#and oddly (badly?) paced

[gudansoo]

aaaaahhhhhhh he's convinced no one wants him cause his parents neglected and abandoned him as a kid and she's like 'i want to be selfish with you, you should be loved by many people but i want you all for myself,' and she says this while holding him!!!!! he must be so fucking high off of her jeeeesussssssssss, like being wanted is his deepest desire she's hitting him right in the gut

[sombrashe]

first time ∿ nam-gyu & thanos x reader

smut

content readers vagina is referred to with feminine pronouns, reader is called pretty girl & sweet girl, virginity loss, chubby!reader (like fr finally)

having namgyu take your virginity is terrifying. at least at first it is. this man has a tendency to be "brutally honest" no matter how badly that honesty hurts.

you make sure everything is perfect before he gets home. roses on the floor, brand new lingerie set, fresh flowers in the vase on your cardboard coffee table that type of stuff. when he comes home he's confused as fuck to say the least and spends no time trying to find you to "clean up your mess."

when he finally finds you your sitting on the edge of the bed. your tummy folded over and thighs squished together? oh he's salivating now. he wastes no time getting to work.

"I'm home, did you miss me."

"A bit, yeah."

"What about her? She miss me?"

he'll start with getting you wet enough to take him. not actually caring about forplay, only doing it because thanos drilled it into his head that it's important if he wants to keep on pounding. your pussy is absolutely getting talked to the entire time.

"She's so wet for me."

"Think she can take one more finger?"

"She ready for my cock yet?"

when he finally gets to slip it in he nearly cums right then and there. it's not that he hasn't fucked before. hell with working at a nightclub he practically has the pick of the litter. but you're different and it lowkey pisses him off. he'll start out slow purely for his own benefit. wanting to take his time and feel every curve and clench you have to offer before he's slamming his hips into your.

he watches as your tits bounce wildly in your little lace bra while your face screws up as pain and pleasure flood your veins. his skin will be laced in nail marks. blood stains the underside of your nails as you squeeze tighter and tighter as your orgasm approaches. when you finally cum he's not to far behind you and only holds on to be able to see you crack and crumble.

your first time with thanos is oddly sweet. he makes sure you're fully taken care of before you even realize you're ready. obviously you grinding against him during a make out session gives him some inkling of a clue.

he'll have his hands on your hips. panting into your mouth as you drag your sopping wet pussy alongside his hardening cock. gripping the fat there he'll massage your skin while he nips at your bottom lip.

when you've finally had enough you drag him into the bedroom. placing his hands on either tit he gets to work ridding you of his shirt. it's not like he couldn't tell but it's a pleasant surprise when he finds you have no bra one.

his fingers pump in and out of you at an antagonizely slow pace. huffing, you arch your back. his lips were wrapped around your clit and sucking gently. his tongue occasionally darts out to lap at your bundle of nerves before going back to sucking.

you cum with his tongue shoved so deep in your, you swear you can feel it in your throat. laying there soaking a spot into the sheets he jumps on the opportunity to pepper your skin in kisses. neck, shoulders, cheeks, it doesn't matter if it's exposed skin it's getting kissed.

when he finally slips into you it's all praise. he doesn't shut up actually. he talks and talks while sloppily thrusting. the sounds of his low voice and the slick sounds of your pussy being absolutely destroyed make your ears burn.

"My pretty girl, taking me so well."

"You like that? When it hits your cervix?"

"Your pussy is squeezing around me so good."

when you finally cum it's a few minutes after him. his mouth on yours to swallow every moan and little sound you make during your orgasm. he definitely fucks you with his soft cock until you're able to cum. he loves cuddles and will happily have you cling onto him as your body relieves itself of all the endorphins that flooded it during your orgasm.

your first time with both the boys is filled with bruises and bite marks. your flesh is littered in ugly yellow marks under your skin and bloody bites still bleeding even when they get you into bed. namgyu prefers to stay behind you and let thanos do all the emotional heavy lifting. and heavy lifting he does, he makes you feel so secure your only option is to immediately start fucking him with your mind.

both of them love shoving multiple fingers in you. doesn't matter if it's your mouth or pussy you're being stuffed full. low groans muffled by ringed fingers as manicured ones go to town stretching you out. you nearly take his whole hand you're so turned on which merely excites them until they're twitching in their pants.

eagerly they escort you into the bedroom and onto the bed. you're understandably nervous and can't stop looking between them with shifting eyes. they'll talk amongst themselves on how best to take your virginity without ripping you in half. not a very fun conversation to overhear you gotta be honest.

they both agree to fuck you at the same time and take turns making you cum until you're pliant. tongues and fingers are shoved into your pussy until you eventually squirt twice, once for each of them. when they finally slip in it's painful but euphoric. you end up having to play with your own clit as they get lost in the feeling.

definitely boykissers. they make out in front of you while thrusting and it takes everything in you not to cum right there. thanos hand is placed on the back of namgyus neck while his hand is tangled in purple hair. both are breathtaking as they moan into the others mouth.

cumming is easy but it's not simple. both of them take a while to cum and keep on fucking you into orgasm after orgasm as they practically ignore you for each other. you feel weak by the time they cum. your body is jelly and all you can do is lay there and take it. they cover your stomach and thighs in their cum as your sore pussy flutters against the emptiness.

thanos does nothing but praise you while namgyu rips into you

"Took us perfectly, huh, sweet girl."

"Look at you, squeezing around nothing. Pathetic."

"Don't listen to him. You did so well."

"I'm so proud of you."

"Could have moaned more. Barely got to hear anything over Thanos the Great here."

[bg3daydream]

Gingerwort truffle tea (Lucanis x Rook fanfiction)

Lucanis x Female Rook one-shot.

Summary: Lucanis can't help but feel jealous when Davrin takes Rook out for a picnic. He's not expecting Rook to come back high on an odd tea. Fluff and mutual pining but specially Lucanis, who's wrestling with his feelings and with Spite.

Lucanis pretended not to pay attention while Davrin and Rook got everything ready for their picnic in Arlathan. He’d learned about his plans when Davrin had come into the pantry to get some food for it, and Lucanis had been in a sour mood since then.

He had no reason or right to be upset and angry, but he couldn’t be logical about it. He was jealous, he knew it and he could admit it, but he also knew he had no right to feel that way. Rook wasn’t his partner. Sure, there’d been some flirting, he’d thought she might be interested in him, but they weren’t in a relationship.

And whose fault was that?

He’d cut short all of her attempts to get closer to him. Maybe he’d made her think he was not interested in her that way. Far from the truth, but it was for the best. He had too much going on and so did Rook, she had enough to deal with without adding the hazard that was Lucanis now. 

He had nothing to offer her, nothing but trouble, death and darkness.

He was an abomination and the shame of it burned bright. He had a demon inside him, that he couldn’t control, what if Spite took control of him when he was with Rook. The demon seemed to like Rook, oddly enough, to trust her even, or at least he was usually more at ease when she was around, but Lucanis didn’t want to risk it.

Spite was now far from calm, he too seemed upset at seeing Rook and Davrin. The shimmering anger of the demon was growing and growing to the point that Lucanis had to walk away, afraid that the Spite would take control over him.

“Rook. Is. Ours,” Spite yelled inside his head as he made his way back to the pantry, and Lucanis was glad to have walked away, in case Spite might have made him say something like that in front of Rook.

“She isn’t,” he replied to the upset demon.

And whose fault was that. 

That was his own voice and thought, not Spite’s. 

“She’s her own person and she can go out with whoever she wants, she has more friends.”

That wouldn’t change even if they were romantically involved, but still, Lucanis couldn’t shake the feeling that Davrin might think of the picnic as some sort of date, not a friendly hangout. 

Spite brisked at the thought…how could a demon be jealous? Maybe it wasn’t jealousy but something else, some odd demon ownership thing, or maybe the demon was just picking up on Lucanis’ feelings. Whatever it was, it was annoying and hard to control.

Lucanis set on making a big pot of coffee. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Spite’s upset emotions, on top of his own, with their barely controlled anger and stupid jealousy. At least he could try to drown Spite’s voice in his head and his own feelings with black coffee.

As time passed, Lucanis tried not to think about what Rook and Davrin might be doing on their perhaps-date. He drank coffee. Exercised and trained. Cleaned his gear. Drank more coffee.

He couldn’t even blame Davrin for setting up a date with Rook, if that’s what it was. She was brave, smart, courageous, kind… of course Davrin would want to date her. What was a wonder was why Rook’d seemed to be interested in Lucanis instead, but perhaps he’d ruined it.

He couldn’t blame Rook for maybe turning to Davrin now, for being interested in him. Lucanis had his differences and problems with him, but he could admit the warden was brave, charming, and attractive, like a damn romance novel character. No, he couldn’t blame Rook if she wanted Davrin instead.

His wings popped out, eyes flashing purple, at his and Spite’s combined and badly controlled jealousy. Lucanis rushed to make more coffee.

*

Later, Lucanis was pacing the hall of the Lighthouse's main building, a cup of black coffee in his hand, lying to himself saying he was not waiting to see if Davrin and Rook walked up from the Eluvian room.

Eventually, he heard their steps walking up the stairs, followed by Assan’s squeaks and Rook’s laughter. He usually loved that sound but it now sent a pang of dread to his belly. So, she’d enjoyed the maybe date…of course she had.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

Davrin’s words turned the dread into angry jealousy. He had no right to be jealous and yet… Lucanis turned around to leave, trying to ignore the sight he caught of Davrin walking with his arm around a grinning Rook.

“Something. Is. Wrong,” Spite said in his head. “She smells…Funny.”

“Shut up.” Lucanis had no wish to hear how Rook smelt or if she might smell like Davrin.

“Hey, Lucanis, wait,” Davrin called after him when he opened the door, but Lucanis was decided to ignore him. “You know about poisons, right?” The odd question combined with Spite saying something was wrong made Lucanis stop and turn around to face them. “I might need you with Rook.”

Alarm bells began sounding in Lucanis’ mind, drowning even Spite’s agitation, as he rushed to them, looking at Rook. She was staring intently at Assan, before turning to grin at Lucanis with bright eyes…eyes too bright. She seemed unharmed, but also, Spite was right, something was off with her.

“She was poisoned?!” 

“I don’t think so?” Rook answered and…yes, something was off.

“She was not.” Davrin alternated between looking at Rook and Lucanis. “But I made gingerwort truffle tea with Emmrich’s recipe and I think it didn't sit well with Rook.”

Rook herself just booped Assan and giggled.

“You drugged her with mushroom tea?!” Lucanis snapped. He knew his reaction was ungranted, he knew Davrin would never do that, yet he couldn’t help it.

“I didn’t.” Davrin rolled his eyes, unimpressed by his reaction and his purple flashing eyes. “It’s just tea, an old recipe. Emmrich said it might have some magical properties…but I think Rook’s just high.” 

Davring had the gall to chuckle as he looked at Rook, and Lucanis felt more aggravated by it.

“I’m not high!” Rook protested. “I just can understand Assan’s language now, I don’t know why you can’t, you had the tea too.”

Davrin chuckled again while Lucanis looked at Rook, trying to wrap his head around what was going on, while trying to ignore and turn down Spite’s onslaught of questions regarding Rook, the tea, and if Lucanis could drink it too.

“Yeah? What’s Assan saying now?” Davrin asked.

“Nothing, but you just wait. Assan. Assan.” Rook called his name until Assan squawked and then she gasped. “See!” 

Davrin snorted and Lucanis glared at him, but at least Rook didn’t seem hurt or in danger.

“She’s high, not poisoned. Your fault, by the way,” Lucanis accused him. “What do you want of me?”

“I don’t know, some kind of crow remedy?” Davrin shrugged at Lucanis glaring. “I think she just needs to sleep it off.”

“Possibly,” Lucanis replied icily.

“Hear that, Rook, the poisoner crow agrees,” Davrin said as he turned to Rook, and Lucans tried to control his and Spite’s wish to stab him. Poison wasn’t even his specialty. Stabbing, though… “Why don’t you go get a nap?”

“Can I take Assan?” Rook answered.

“Sure, if he wants to.”

“Assan, come on!”

Rook walked upstairs and to her room, slightly uncoordinated, with Assan at her heels.

“You got her high,” Lucanis huffed when the door of Rook’s room closed.

“I didn’t plan to.” Davrin rolled his eyes. “It was just gingerwort tea, it’s safe, but Rook seems to be sensitive to it.”

“Who would even want to drink tea,” Lucanis retorted. He knew he was being silly yet he couldn’t help it.

“Me. And Rook. She likes tea, she told me so when we were drinking it,” Davrin said. “But she has mostly coffee because that’s what you make all the time.”

“Oh…”

So, Rook liked tea and he didn’t know it. He’d prided himself on knowing Rook’s favorite drink. He’d thought she enjoyed coffee too. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe she’d just been drinking it for his sake…

“Man, stop with the puppy eyes, it’s just coffee, you’re too attached to it.” Davrin laughed and Lucanis’ allegedly puppy-eyes turned purple and murderous as he glared at him, but Davrin seemed unimpressed. “Rook likes coffee too. Especially if you make it, she says it’s better then.”

“Rook…told you that?” Lucanis asked quietly, looking down.

“Yeah. She can’t shut up about you for more than an hour.” Davrin chuckled, but Lucanis thought he’d sounded just ever so slightly annoyed. 

Lucanis couldn’t blame him. If he planned a date with Rook and she would spend it talking about Davrin, he knew he’d be annoyed. Still, he couldn’t help how pleased he felt at Davrin’s words. When he looked at Davrin, though, he was smirking.

“I think it’s bullshit, though, I don’t think your coffee is anything special,” Davrin teased.

“Oh? Have Neve’s coffee and then come tell me,” Lucanis joked back.

“No, thanks.” Davrin chuckled. “I’m going to tell Emmrich about the tea, just in case.”

Lucanis nodded. “I’ll check on Rook.”

*

Lucanis walked into Rook’s room, carrying a tall glass of water, and he was greeted by the big, odd aquarium. It made him feel uneasy, reminded him of the Ossuary, and he tried to ignore it, looking at the couch. Rook sat down there, holding Assan’s head gently as she looked intently into the griffon’s eyes.

“Rook, are you alright?”

“I wish he said something besides worms,” Rook sighed longingly, letting go of Assan’s head.

“Here, drink this.” Lucanis handed her the glass of water.

“Not coffee?” Rook asked, and Lucanis felt a pleasant warmth as he remembered Davrin saying Rook liked the coffee more if Lucanis made it.

“Later. Now drink that.”

Rook nodded, drinking the water.

“The tea made me understand Assan…do you think it made me understand Manfred and Spite too?!” Rook looked at him wide-eyed and if Lucanis hadn’t been as worried as he was, he’d have snorted. She really was high, more than he’d thought at first.

“Rook. You already understand Spite,” he told her calmly. “You have spoken with him.”

“Oh…right…I can understand him.” Rook nodded. “Right, Spite?” 

Before Lucanis knew what was happening, Rook had reached to hold his head like she’d been doing with Assan, looking into his eyes, and Lucanis felt his cheeks burning. He tried controlling how his heart picked up, the odd twirling in his belly, a wave of feelings that allowed Spite to wrest control over him.

“Lucanis. Never. Lets me. Speak!”

“Lucanis…that’s not very nice,” Rook chastised and Lucanis huffed, trying to push Spite back. “Let him speak sometimes.”

“I let him speak enough.”

“You. Don’t!” Spite’s took control again, out of…spite, probably. “Rook. Smells like…Assan.”

“See, this is what happens when he speaks,” Lucanis said, mortified, but Rook seemed amused.

She was still holding his head, her hands gentle on his warm cheeks, and she looked at him intently. Lucanis swallowed hard, feeling his mouth going dry at the way she was looking at him, at how close she was.

You. Want that. Again. Spite’s annoyed voice said in his head. Lucanis didn’t need to ask what he was talking about, he knew what he was feeling, not for the first time or the second…

He wanted to kiss Rook. And she was so close, he’d barely need to lean in to kiss her…he wanted to. But she was high, it wasn’t right, not to mention the demon kicking in his head, Rook didn’t need that burden…

“Lucanis…” Rook called his name quietly.

“Yes?” He could barely whisper it.

“What if Spite possessed Manfred?”

Lucanis blinked at Rook, too stunned to talk for a second. “What?”

“Would they take turns controlling the skeleton?”

Spite took control of Lucanis to speak before he could. “Curiosity. Has. Hands! I want. That!”

“You deserve hands!” Rook agreed, letting go of Lucanis’s head…she really was way higher than either he or Davrin had thought.

“He doesn’t,” Lucanis said, trying to wrestle down Spite. “Don’t encourage him, Rook.” She just giggled. “We have enough hands already.” And he had enough with Spite trying to control his.

“Then you wouldn’t have to share…I’m trying to be helpful for both of you,” Rook sighed dramatically.

“I know,” Lucanis conceded. He couldn’t help half a smile at her. “I let him stab enemies with my hands sometimes.” Not. Enough. Spite complained in his head but Lucanis ignored him. “Why don’t you take a nap? Come on, now that you still have time.”

“Alright…” Rook agreed and Lucanis was glad he didn’t have to try to convince her. “I’m not tired but I have a headache,” she sighed as she lay down on the couch and Lucanis had to fight the urge to caress her hair. “Assan, come.”

Rook patted the couch and grinned when Assan jumped onto it, and, at Rook’s grabby hands, the griffon lay down almost on top of her, curling up with Rook. “Oof, you’re heavy for a baby,” Rook said as she wiggled, but despite her words, she held Assan to her, looking quite happy to snuggle with him.

Another half-smile tugged at Lucanis mouth as he looked at them. The sight stirred some feelings, warmth, fondness…longing?

You. Want. That? Spite’s voice asked in his head, sounding puzzled and confused. Like. Assan?

“Shut up,” Lucanis muttered.

Did he want that? To lie down there with Rook like Assan, in her arms? Of course. But he didn’t want Spite catching on it, asking about it, or making his wishes and thoughts worse.

“What?” Rook asked, already sounding drowsy.

“Nothing. Get some sleep, Rook.”

Lucanis walked away before his and Spite’s combined thoughts could get out of hand.

*

A couple of hours later, Lucanis was in the pantry when he heard someone fumbling in the kitchen, and he walked out to find Rook there, holding a piece of hard cheese. He’d gotten that one for grating it but she seemed about to eat it just like that.

“Hey,” Rook greeted, seeming a bit awkward. “I was hungry but I didn’t feel like cooking.”

“I’ll cook you something,” Lucanis offered, heading to the kitchen space.

“You don’t have to…”

“I don’t mind.” Lucanis shrugged. He liked to cook and he liked it even more if it was for Rook.

“It’s fine, I think there are leftovers from the picnic.” Rook nodded towards a basket. “We barely got to eat before I…” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry you saw me like that before.”

“It’s okay, Rook,” Lucanis told her softly, trying to be comforting.

“I mean, I’m sorry for myself, it’s embarrassing to know that both you and Davrin saw me like that…” She shook her head, seeming mortified. “At least nobody else did.”

“It wasn’t your fault, it was the tea,” Lucanis reassured her, grimacing at the thought of the drink. It was Davrin’s fault for feeding it to her, but he didn’t say it aloud, he didn’t think Rook’d agree.

“A tea that also Davrin and Emmrich had and nothing happened to them,” Rook remarked and Lucanis tried to ignore Spite’s voice asking him repeatedly to try the tea himself and see what happened.

“It’s not your fault that you’re sensitive to it,” Lucanis tried to reason, he didn’t like to see Rook chastising herself like that.

Rook just shrugged with a non-committal humm and Lucanis watched as she took a sandwich from the picnic basket. He decided he’d cook something anyway, he didn’t trust Davrin’s cooking. Frittata with the grating cheese that Rook’d been about to eat.

As he began to get everything ready, it seemed Rook was going to say something, maybe to tell him again that he didn’t have to, but she didn’t, she just smiled softly and looked at him cooking in silence for a little bit.

“That smells so good,” she said as the frittata cooked and Lucanis couldn’t help how pleased it made him feel. It was a simple dish, truly, only eggs, cheese, and some vegetables mixed together, but he thought it was good nonetheless.

When the frittata was finished, Lucanis served it on a plate and handed it to Rook along with a glass of water. With a thanks, Rook took it and instead of going to the dining table, she sat down on the sofa around the small coffee table.

Rook looked at him as if wondering if he’d join her, and so Lucanis poured himself a cup of coffee and went to sit with her, not next to her on the couch but on the armchair near it. He noticed Rook eyeing his coffee while she sipped her water.

“I can make you a tea,” Lucanis offered, even if his nose scrunched in disgust at the thought of such a beverage, and he wasn’t even sure he could brew it properly, but Davrin had said Rook liked tea so at least he could try.

“I…I think I’ve had enough tea for a while…” Rook grimaced. “Besides, I love your coffee, it’s really good.”

A warm, pleased feeling spread through Lucanis at that, while a smile tugged at his lips. Davrin’d already told him Rook enjoyed his coffee more, but it was not the same than hearing her saying that she loved it.

Rook cut into the still steaming frittata and brought a piece to her mouth, closing her eyes with a delighted hmm, making something stir in Lucanis belly at it. “This is so good, really.”  That warm, pleasant feeling grew even more.

Rook didn’t say anything else, just enjoyed the frittata, and Lucanis watched her enjoying the food in silence. Lucanis had rarely cooked for anyone besides himself, and he liked cooking for his friends at the Lighthouse and having them enjoy the food, but when it was Rook, it felt even better.

Once Rook finished her frittata, Lucanis already had a cup of coffee ready for her.

“What would we do without you, Lucanis, you spoil us,” she half-teased, smiling as he nursed the cup in her hands.

“I saw how you all ate before hiring me,” Lucanis tried to joke, trying to control the wave of feelings as Rook kept complimenting him. “You needed a cook, not an assassin.”

“And we were so lucky we got both,” Rook chuckled.

She lifted her legs onto the couch and leaned on the armrest closer to Lucanis, and he fought the impulse urging him to lean closer too, to touch her, maybe stroke her hair. For a moment, they both sipped their coffee in silence.

“I think maybe I should get ready another picnic with Davrin, one in which I don’t get…indispose…” Rook commented after a little while.

Lucanis’ warm, content and pleasant feelings were gone, replaced by hot jealousy at hearing Rook speaking about arranging a date with Davrin. He grimaced as he tried to control Spite’s onslaught of upset feelings as the demon caught Lucanis’ own emotions and what seemed to also be his own kind of feelings regarding Rook. 

“Rook, I told you, it’s not your fault you’re sensitive to the tea…” Lucanis tried to keep his voice calm and even when he spoke. “It’s Davrin’s fault for bringing an unchecked recipe to a date,” he scoffed.

Rook looked at him wide-eyed. “A date? Do you think Davrin thought of that as a date?”

“I…don’t know…” Had he assumed things? He’d been pretty sure Davrin wanted a date with Rook. He tried to hide how upset he was at the idea “I thought so…”

“Oh…” Rook sighed, seeming worried. “Oh, I hope not…I just thought we were going to hang out in the forest, decompress, play with Assan…not a date, date.”

Lucanis didn’t know what to think of Rook’s words, there were too many emotions shimmering inside him, both his and Spite’s, and luckily Rook just kept talking without expecting him to say anything else.

“I mean, Davrin’s great and I really like him,” she began and Lucanis had to wrestle Spite down when he tried to take control of him. “Everyone’d be lucky to date him, but…turns out I don’t want to…”

Lucanis knew he shouldn’t smile at those words, but he couldn’t help how pleased he felt. What mattered if Rook didn’t want to date Davrin, though? It wasn’t like Lucanis could date her…he wanted to, he’d not lie to himself saying he didn’t, but he knew what a bad idea it was, how unfair it’d be for Rook, to get dragged into his mess, tangled with someone who could barely offer anything but death and trouble.

“It’d have been a nice date, though, a picnic in the beautiful woods,” Rook kept going, as if Lucanis didn’t have enough thoughts and feelings fighting inside him already. “But I think my perfect date would be different, I think maybe going to someone’s favorite café in his beautiful city.”

Rook wasn’t looking at him as she spoke, her eyes were on her coffee mug, and Lucanis was glad for it because, even though he tried to keep his expression neutral, he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. His heart had picked up his pace and some twirls were dancing in his belly.

He knew Rook was talking about when he’d taken her to Café Pietra. It’d been nice, even if it’d been for crow business, Lucanis had enjoyed being able to go back to his favorite café, and he’d been pleased to take Rook with him. It hadn’t been a date, yet he’d caught himself wishing it’d been, wondering about perhaps having a real one there, with Rook.

He’d tried to stop those thoughts and wishes but there he was anyway, they had just grown stronger as he spent more time with Rook.

“But I know that wouldn’t be everyone’s kind of date…” Rook said at his silence, moving back from the armrest and sitting straighter, perhaps taking his silence for rejection.

Lucanis knew he shouldn’t entertain his feelings or Rook’s and yet…he couldn’t help it… “It’d be my perfect date too,” he said quietly.

Rook looked at him with a smile that sent dancing twirls to Lucanis’ stomach again, before she looked back at her coffee, taking a sip, as if shyly trying to hide her growing smile.

“I think…” Lucanis began even if he didn’t really know what he thought anymore. “Once I’ve fixed everything, I’d like to go to Café Pietra again.” 

For fixing everything, he didn’t mean only saving the world and stopping the gods, as if that were a small task already, but also taking care of the crow’s businesses and loose ends, and especially, fixing whatever was going on with and Spite, if that was even something he could fix. He didn’t want to put Rook in danger, and it felt like that was all he could offer her at that moment…she deserved something more, something better, but Lucanis couldn’t stop his feelings.

“I’d like it if you wanted to come,” he finished, his voice low and husky.

“I’d love to.” Rook gave him another of those smiles that had Lucanis’ heart dancing.

“It’ll take me a while to fix everything.” That if it was even possible…Lucanis felt pessimistic about it yet whenever he looked at Rook, he couldn’t help but feel something close to hope.

“That’s alright, Café Pietra will still be there,” Rook said nonchalantly. “And so will I.” Her tone was softer now yet reassuring, just like her smile, and Lucanis couldn’t help his own.

This was a bad idea, probably, but the twirls in his belly and the beating of his heart didn’t seem to care. In moments like that, Lucanis had to wonder if Rook was real, or if maybe he had finally break in the Ossuary prison and he was making her and everything else up in his mind.

Lucanis didn’t know what to say, he was feeling overwhelmed by everything, by all his emotions, but Rook didn’t seem to mind his silence.

Slowly, she placed her open hand on the armrest, palm up. An invitation.

Lucanis looked at it for just a moment, before bringing his hand to hers. Rook gave him another of those warm smiles that had his heart dancing, and she closed her hand around his, intertwining their fingers.

Her touch was soft, comforting, grounding…safe, even.

She was real, she was there for him, and she was willing to wait until he could offer her something more than what he could then, something better.

It wouldn’t be easy, there was much to do, but with Rook at his side, her and on his, Lucanis felt more hopeful than he’d ever felt.

*

NA:

Both me and my Rook have fallen in love with this gentle, caring assassin and we want to hold him and protect him, but sometimes Rook needs to be taken care of too.

I think I want to write more for them.

If you liked the fic, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

[after-the-end-times]

A Big, Huge Deal

@steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Family Dinner 🫂Words: 978 🫂Tags: Secret relationship, Best friends forever Stobin, mild Steve angst, comfort

Family Video at midday, midweek is empty of customers and warm from the sun streaming through the big front windows, despite the frigid air and snow piled up outside the doors. Steve and Robin stand against the counter, using the lull to sort returns.

“So how many dinners do you have this year?”

“Four. Mrs. Henderson’s, yours, my parents, and Eddie and Wayne’s. Plus, Nancy said her mom invited me to go caroling, but since it’d be her parents, Mike, her and Jonathon, and a bunch of their church friends I bowed out ‘cause yeah, no to all of that.”

Robin reaches over Steve to grab a cassette that goes in her genre pile.

“OooOoo you’re going to Eddie’s, hmmm? That’s sweet.”

He side eyes her for that and grabs a video from her side of the pile and adds it his side.

“Um, no, it’s not sweet. We’re having dinner. Just like at yours and Dustin’s. It’s nothing more than that.”

“Uuuuh huh.” Her lips pull into a frown as she turns to lean her hip against the counter, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He gathers up one pile of tapes in his arms and turns away, heading toward the back wall showing off New Arrivals.

“Like what?” She says, following behind with her own pile of tapes. “Like I know you’re either lying to me or lying to yourself? Like I know for a fact that Christmas dinner has always been a Family Only night for Eddie and Wayne, ever since Eddie showed up at Wayne’s on Christmas Eve?”

“It’s not-” He walks along the wall tucking the tapes behind their matching display cases. He doesn’t normally feel this far off kilter with Robin, but when it comes to Eddie he just doesn’t know how to address the thing with them. “They’re just being nice.”

“Nice? Ugh!” She stomps over to the Romance section and aggressively, one by one, puts her movies back. “Everyone knows you have a day full of dinners! Nice would be inviting you there if you had nowhere else to be, but you do! He wants you there. At Christmas dinner. Because he likes you. And I have no idea why you don’t believe that!”

Steve is still facing the wall of movies, one last cassette in his hand. He looks down at it and then gently places it in its spot.

Quietly he says, “I do believe it.”

Silence rings behind him. Robin’s never quiet, it’s mildly worrying, what if she became one with the dust particles floating in the sunlight? He turns and leans back casually, uncomfortably against the wall of shallow shelves. Robin is on the other side of the rack and looks, honestly, really surprised, eyes wide, jaw slack. He’s not sure why she’s so surprised when this is what she wanted so badly.

“Oh.” She’s blinking oddly fast and then suddenly turns away to pace the aisle, hands coming up to wave around, punctuating her thoughts. “Ok. So. You know he likes you. You know it’s a big deal that he invited you to his family dinner. You accepted the invitation to his family dinner. You- So- Does this mean you’re finally going to do something about all the eyes you guys keep making at each other? Oh! Are you gonna-”

“Robin.” He takes a breath and knows she’s gonna be so mad at him. “We’re dating.”

“What?”

“Since Thanksgiving. It kind of just- No. It didn’t just happen. We were talking after everyone left ‘cause he stayed to help clean up. And there was this moment. I knew it was then or never. And I really didn’t want it to be never. So, well, that’s the making eyes you’ve noticed more lately. It’s been really hard not saying anything, but then the longer I went not saying something, the more angry I knew you’d b-”

Robin’s arms are suddenly around him, her face against his shoulder. He hadn’t even realized he was talking to the carpet the whole time. But Robin’s hugging him, not yelling at him, not mad at him. She squeezes harder around his neck and he brings his hands up and hugs her back, tight.

“I could never be mad at you for being happy.” With her face still smooshed against him, it comes out squished sounding, but he’ll always understand her. “I’m just so happy for you. And Eddie, of course, but mostly because he makes you happy. And I know you make Eddie happy, I can tell he’s been-”

Steve uses his grip around her to lift her up as he laughs, the sound getting trapped in her hair. As her feet hit the ground, he pulls back to put his hands on her shoulders.

“Yes, he’s happy.” Huh! It’s surprisingly hard to talk when he can’t stop grinning, a laugh sitting in his chest, threatening to burst out again. “We both are.”

“Ok, you’re starting at the beginning. I want to know everything!” She starts walking back to the counter to collect more videos, Steve following behind her feeling lighter than he has in weeks. “Ok, maybe not everything everything, but everything else! And, ok, maybe a little bit of the other everything. Oh my god!”

She stops suddenly, turning fast, and pats a hand against his chest. “So, you’re going to family dinner with Eddie and Wayne! Like, as part of the family! How are you feeling about this? This is big! Huge!”

Steve smiles, he just loves her so much.

He pats her shoulder as he walks past her to grab more returns.

“Well, how ‘bout this. You can tell me what it feels like when, one day, we invite you to our family Christmas dinner.” He sends her a grin. “Cause it’s gonna be a pretty big deal then, too.”

[surielstea]

Comfort by Candlelight

Based on this request.

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lucien comforts Reader during her torturous cycle.

Warnings: Mentions of menstrual periods | descriptions of throwing up | heart wrenching fluff (I need this man badly)

2.5k words.

The ache in my body came in relentless waves, crashing harder into me after the last. I'd barely made it into my room before collapsing onto my bed, curling into a ball and burrowing into the cold pillows, seeking reprieve from the sharp twists in my abdomen as I tucked my legs to my chest and let out pitiful, quiet sniffles.

The knock on the door makes me groan, half of me wishes whoever it was would just go away. Of course, the door creaked open and I was met with a concerned-faced Lucien taking up the doorway with a steaming mug in his hands.

He paced to my bedside, setting the hot tea down on my nightstand. "I made your favorite blend— it's not as good as your brew but, I tried." He mumbles and I smile softly at my mate. His amber eye looks me over, his brows creasing as his concern grows for me.

"Also—" He fishes a small vial from his breast pocket, the clear liquid inside already making me grimace. His eyes softened at my reaction to the pain tonic. "I know you hate the taste but it'll take the edge off." He reassures, placing the vial beside my steaming tea. "So let's sit you up and you can wash it down with some tea yeah?" He says, standing upright and peering down at me.

Slowly, I nod and he moves to help guide me up, putting a pillow behind me as I lean back against the headboard. "Alright?" He asks cautiously and I nod again.

"You don't have to baby me, you know," I remark as he hands me the vial after unscrewing its cap.

"I know I don't have to," He says, grabbing my tea, keeping it warm with the fire at his fingertips. "But I want to." His gaze doesn't falter as he brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. "Now drink, and then you can have the tea." He croons, keeping my mug captive.

I huff a sigh as I bring the vial up to my lips, trying not to breathe in as I downed the oddly thick, syrupy medicine. I groan as I swallow it down and he was quick to bring the rim of the mug to my lips. I drank deeply, the perfectly tempered beverage spreading warmth throughout my entire body. I hum delightfully and take another sip, pulling my legs up to my chest.

"Good?" He asks tentatively and I nod, pulling the drink away.

"You might have to start making my tea all the time," I chirp as if it were a warning. He smiles softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of my head.

"Fine by me, just say the word and I'll do anything to make you feel better alright?" He murmurs into my hair, his calloused hand cupping my cheek gently.

He pulls away and I look up at him, tears brimming my eyes. His brows crease. "No, no baby what's wrong?" His hand on my cheek moves along my jaw, wiping the invisible tears beneath my eyes. "Nothing— you're just, so kind to me," I sniffle. He knew full well I was only acting like this because of the imbalance and swing of my hormones but it was still endearing to see me so torn up about his affection. "I don't deserve this," I murmur and his smile shifts into a frown, that, that he had a problem with.

"No." He said sternly. "No, my love you deserve everything good that there is." He reassures. "Now I'm going to draw you a bath, you stay here alright?" He said and I nodded, still sniffing.

Only a minute later he was returning to my side and guiding me into his arms, carrying me bridal style into our bathing chambers. He gave me the dignity of undressing myself while he poured my favorite oils and salts into the bath, stirring it with his hand, simultaneously warming it with the fire in his veins.

Once I was bare he guided me into the warm water, my muscles immediately soothing over at the change of temperature. I let out a soft sigh as I relaxed into the tub, leaning back and allowing the heat of the water to sink into my very bones.

"Are you trying to make me love you more?" I ask through a groan as he moves to lather an expensive-smelling soap along my bare skin.

"Is it working?" He asks with a sly tone, and there was that bantering, foxlike Lucien I loved.

"Maybe, keep going, and then I'll decide," I murmur, leaning into his touch, the familiar sensation of his rough, large hands being so delicate with me. "You know, I could get used to all this pampering," I add, voicing my every thought without any hesitation.

"Mm, good. I'm not going anywhere." He says as he finishes up washing me, not missing an inch.

I craned my neck back to look at him, peeking one eye open and finding his button-up white shirt rolled up at the forearms, but still damp at the edges nonetheless, yet he stared at me like he had no intention of changing until I was asleep.

"Go change, I want to soak for a few more minutes," I shoo him away, waving a dismissive hand.

"I'll be back to dry you off," He says, his tone falling back into that comforting, warm voice.

He shuffles out of the room, leaving the door cracked in case I need to call for him. I released a soft sigh, closed my eyes, and relaxed into the bath. Wincing slightly as a wave of pain shoots up my side. The pain tonic should kick in soon, and then hopefully I'll be able to sleep.

I rub at my eyes, exhaustion from my own body being at war with itself weighing on me with ceaseless pain. If the pain wasn't so intense I think I'd just sleep through the rest of the week.

Lucien came back in, as quiet as a cat on his feet, now changed and styled in only a pair of pajama pants. I admired the view of his bare torso in the candlelight— when I noticed the stack of clothes in his hands, as well as a towel draped over his broad, bare shoulder and a stack of more feminine products in his other hand.

"You want to dress yourself or do you need my help?" He asks as he places everything on the counter. I cringe slightly at the idea of him watching me secure my pad in my undergarments.

"I'll do it," I utter, standing from the tub and he rushes over to hand me the towel.

"Okay, I'll be just outside," He whispers, silently communicating that he didn't care what I asked him to do, and only wanted to help. I nod and take the towel from him, beginning to dry off as he leaves the bathing chamber yet again.

I move to where he had placed my clothes, noticing he had somehow selected my softest nightgown. I smiled and slipped the silky dress over my head, then put on a fresh pair of lined underwear. Once I was done I let my hair down and nearly laughed at the image of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous, utterly terrifying. I combed my hands through my hair, attempting to create some semblance of being put together.

All the movement was beginning to make me queasy. My breath hitched as nausea began working its way up my stomach. I gripped the edge of the counter, taking a deep breath and hoping it'd fade but my body refused to lose this fight— and suddenly I was rushing towards the toilet with bile rising in my throat.

I hurled, the feeling burning my throat as tears sprang to my eyes. I didn't even hear the door open, or the rushed footsteps before Lucien's warm hand was guiding my hair away from my face and his other was rubbing soothing circles on my back.

I whimpered once the worst of it was over, my body aching as I gasped for air, wiping at my mouth and sniveling.

"I'm disgusting." I huff. "Why aren't you running for the hills by now?" I murmur, looking at my mate lazily.

"I've seen worse. Trust me, this doesn't crack the top thousand." He reassured and I let out a breathless laugh.

"Top thousand, hm? You must've led a very interesting life before you met me." I drawl, my voice weak due to the rawness of my throat.

"I don't remember much of a life before I met you." He said cheekily and I rolled my eyes.

"How can you tell me that when I've just puked half my lunch up?" I scowl.

"Because you're beautiful." He replies without missing a beat.

"Liar." I retort.

"Maybe, but it hasn't stopped me from sharing has it?" His smirk deepens.

"Pervert." I huff.

"I prefer 'Devoted Mate', but whatever you say." He continues and I frown at his insistence on being the best male I have ever met.

"I'm going to bite your face off," I warn, deciding my nausea was done wreaking havoc on my body and stumbling to my feet— which Lucien had guided me to.

"As long as you're not biting any other parts off, we're doing just fine." He jokes as I walk over to the sink, cupping my hands beneath the cool water and rinsing my mouth thoroughly.

"Careful," I cautioned while wiping my mouth. "Or I might reconsider." I smile, wrapping an arm around his bare torso and leaning on him for support as he takes us back over to the bed.

I flopped down onto the warm mattress, curling into the excessive amount of decorative pillows that I was too exhausted to throw off the side of the bed. "Oh, love," Lucien tuts, guiding me to readjust into a more comfortable position, then taking the time to remove the useless pillows from the bed. "Better?" He asks as he sits on the edge of the mattress, helping me pull the blankets higher up my body.

I nod softly. "Much better," I murmur and he smiles, his eyes flicking over to the spot he usually slept in.

"Do you want your own space tonight? I can sleep on the couch— or even the floor if you want me to." He offered after a moment of silence.

I nearly laughed. "I don't want you anywhere but right next to me," I say with a shake of my head and his shoulders slumped in relief.

"Oh good, I really did not want to sleep on the floor," He sighed while slipping into his side of the bed. I giggle, the sound turning into a groan as a piercing pain twists in my abdomen. The corners of his lips tug downward at my clear discomfort. The tonic should've begun working by now, but something told me I hurled that back up only moments ago.

"I wish there was more I could do for you." My mate said with a reassuring kiss to my temple while gathering me into his arms, pulling me into his chest, and encasing me in the scent of a crackling fire and sandalwood, the smell reminding me of being wrapped in a well wore leather coat on a crisp autumn morning.

"There is one thing you could do," I suggest slowly and he looked at me curiously, and even in the dim light I could see the devotion in his eye— the willingness to do anything I asked, silently pleading with me to just say the word.

I reach around to grab his hand that was resting on my ribs. I brought it around, guiding his palm and long fingers to cup over my lower stomach. "Mmkay, now warm it up," I mumble, his brows crease in confusion but he does as I say— and his hand feels like the first rays of the sun after a long winter.

I smile as my sharp pains ebb away from the heat, my muscles relaxing under his loving touch. "Am I just your personal heater?" He asks in a quiet voice, rubbing his thumb over the area of bare skin.

"A damned good one at that," I murmur while burrowing into his neck, craving the warmth there too. I kiss his bare collarbone, delighting in the sensation of his heated skin beneath my fingertips.

He pressed kisses to my hairline, so subtle I wouldn't have felt it if he were anyone else— but Lucien's kisses were different like each one was a piece of himself he was offering to me, heavy with the weight of his love. I pulled back from his shoulder to look up at him curiously.

"Thank you, Lucien," I whispered, my lips ghosting over his.

"Don't thank me." He shakes his head, his nose grazing mine slightly at the action. "Don't you ever thank me." He leaned closer, closing the distance between us. I melted into the feeling of his lips on mine, his hand on my abdomen growing slightly hotter as he got lost in my lips. I hum in amusement, pulling back and for a second I thought he might chase me back onto his mouth, but he remained still, staring at me with only reverence.

"I love you," I profess quietly, my hand coming up to cup his jaw, my thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "So much," I add, leaning in once more, chastely peppering kisses over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, where sun-kissed, freckled skin was.

He smiles beneath my soft kisses, his eyes shimmering with warmth and affection. "I love you too, more than words can ever express," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. The sincerity in his gaze makes my heart swell, the ache in my body momentarily forgotten in the presence of his love.

As I pull back, I rest my forehead against his, letting the moment linger. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of us cocooned in our little sanctuary. "You're so good to me," I whisper, brushing my fingers through his tousled hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," He retorts, guiding my head back into the crook of his neck. “Rest now, you need it.” His hand soothed through my hair, detangling the ends silently, the quiet intimacy of it all making my stomach twist— this time, in a good way, similar to butterflies soaring.

“Goodnight Lu,” I murmur into his warm skin, pressing one last kiss to his neck. He didn’t reply, just continued to stroke my hair as I succumbed to the warmth of his affection, the darkness of night slowly wrapping around me— and he was the flickering candlelight that lulled me to sleep, my body finally finding rest as I meet a peaceful slumber.

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[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 22: “Wait, you love me?” “I always have”

(alternative to Heirloom from last year’s favorites list)

A/N: apologies if this is shit, post con ghost is sad and drained today. Also, I watched a very specific episode of X-Men ‘97 that made me want to write happy Gambit so here that is. - mod ghost

Ship: Remy LeBeau x Mutant GN!Reader

Summary: After a particularly nasty fight, Remy lands in the Mansion’s Medical Lab on painkillers

You and Remy usually weren’t on separate missions, but on this occasion, you were and he had gotten hurt. So, like any person who cared about their boyfriend as deeply as you do, you rushed back to the Mansion to make sure he was okay.

He was asleep when you got there, a thick bandage wrapped around his forehead and the blanket tucked up to his chin. You stepped closer to him until you were at his bedside, the steady beeping of the EKG oddly comforting in this situation.

“He’ll be fine, dear, just needs some rest.” Hank assured you, patting your shoulder before leaving the two of you alone. He seemed to be able to tell that you needed it, to just be with Remy.

You sat with him for hours, one of your hands holding his and the other slowly rubbing back and forth on his chest while being careful of the bandage that was strapped there.

“Petite, my partner’s gonna have a word or two wit’ you if they see you rubbin’ up on me like dat.” Gambit spoke up suddenly, looking up at you from where he lay with his dark eyes.

You pause to chuckle as you realize what he said, shaking your head at him, “I am your partner.” There was a brief moment of silence as he looked you over, his EKG suddenly getting much faster and louder then slowing back to its normal pace as he calmed back down with a quiet utterance of “Oh…”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You couldn’t contain your laughter, your hand moving from his chest to his hair to gently card through it.

“Wait, you love me?” He emphasized your words, realizing the gravity of what you’d said before even you. Which was somewhat incredible, given his current state. It was the first time you’d ever said that to him.

You didn’t want to freak him out right now, though, so you nodded as your hand continued its trek through his long red hair, “Damn straight, I always have.” You confirmed, leaning forward to gently kiss his forehead, “but go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up. Beast’s orders that you get rest.”

“Forget the ol’ coot right now, chère, I have more important matters on my mind.” He grabbed your shoulder before you could fully pull back from kissing his forehead, tugging you back down to press your lips to his. It was soft and sweet, a contrast to how he usually kissed you when he’d arrive home from a mission, though it was brief since he was still aching. “Gambit loves you very much, chère. Remember it.”

“I will, swamp rat. But only if you get some sleep.” You teased him, covering his eyes with your hand to make him laugh.

“Alright, okay, fine. C’mere, though.” Remy tugged on your arm until you were laying down beside him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he adjusted the blanket to compensate both of you.

“Remy—“ You tried to stop him, but eventually gave in as he cut off any protests you were about to give him.

“Don’ worry about Hank, I’ll take it up wit him. I missed my chère and he’ll have to deal wit dat.” Gambit tutted, pressing a kiss to your forehead just like you had his and kept you held close to his side as the pain meds eventually won out. Pushing him back to sleep and getting the rest he so badly needed. You didn’t disturb him, letting him rest and slowly falling asleep yourself as you rested your head against his chest.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

I know your probably not going to see this since you have so many asks but I’m going to try anyway

Could you do relationship headcanons with the Elden ring girls?

(Whatever ones is up to you since I want to see which ones you will pick)

Oh ye of little Faith Anon!

Also, I decided to go the angst route for Marika and Melina so fair warning for that.

Now, since you gave me free rein to choose… My Wish Is My Command!

Malenia was not much of a talker.

She liked her alone time.

That said, she did like listening to others talk on occasion.

She especially liked listening to people talking about normal, everyday life.

It was a guilty pleasure of hers.

To hear about the simple things.

Hugging those they care for close.

Kissing the ones they love.

All the things she rarely ever felt.

But then, one day, she met you.

It was a complete accident, something that, if she had stepped on a different piece of the cobble path, never would’ve happened.

While she was walking the path, her head in the clouds, she caught her still flesh and bone foot on a broken piece of stone.

She, of course, was able to return herself to being upright near instantly.

Though… not without accidentally smacking you in the nose with her prosthetic.

Her unalloyed golden metal prosthetic.

Needless to say, you were bleeding.

Badly.

And Malenia, for all her grace and strength on the battlefield, was absolutely horrible when it came to people.

So, Malenia being the expert in Diplomacy she is, grabbed you by the back of your collar, and dragged you off without a word, nose still absolutely pouring blood.

And that is how you got here.

Sitting on a chair in THE Malenia’s room, pieces of cotton stuck up your nose as the red headed woman paced the room, not saying a single word.

This was an absolutely surreal experience.

An actual Demi-God, someone who could cut down an army with ease, had just accidentally wacked you in the face, dragged you into her room, and was pacing the floor like she had just committed some grand, unforgivable crime.

It was just a bloody nose, not even broken.

She looked like she was about to collapse from stress.

You were pretty sure she was about to wear a hole into the ground with how fast she was pacing.

“U-uh Lady Malenia?” you tentatively asked.

The red head went rigid and turned to you in a manner more akin to an automaton from the Academy Of Raya Lucaria than a humanoid creature.

“I am Malenia, Blade Of Miquella.” Malenia declared without room for response or retort, leaving the room in complete and utter silence as you looked directly into the helm she wore.

It was now that a knock on the door rang through the room, and a wave of relief ran through both parties.

“Malenia! I heard you dragged someone into your room! Did you get a Consort and not tell your favorite sibling!?” a joyous and booming voice cried through the door.

“Consort? Me?” you muttered in confusion.

“Miquella is my favorite sibling.” Malenia stated bluntly, seemingly causing a physical impact to the person on the other side.

“Then your biggest Sibling!” the voice declared joyously.

“Radahn is my biggest sibling.” Malenia stated in the same tone of voice, causing direct harm to the speaker.

“I am going to smite you with lightning.” the voice declared in an oddly happy voice despite the very real threat.

“You can try, Godwyn. I will simply cut the lightning.” Malenia declared.

The door was promptly thrown open and the giant blonde man in the doorway shouted.

“YOU CAN’T CUT LIGHTNING!!!”

“Has anyone tried it before?” Malenia asked.

“No-” Godwyn began before getting cut off.

“Then I shall be the first, and I shall succeed.” Maleina declared in her eternally even tone of voice.

Godwyn moved to advise against this ill fated endeavor but then, he noticed the guest in the room.

He looked at you for a few moments, perplexed, before walking over to Malenia and dragging her out of the room by her ear.

A few moments later, a young Blonde poked his head into the room.

“Excuse me, but have you seen my sister Malenia?” the blonde asked.

“Uhm… you just missed her. Lord Godwyn dragged her off somewhere.” you responded.

“Hmm… I see. Thank you.” the blonde muttered before walking off.

Then, you heard the stomping of running feet and the blonde shot into the room, shouting.

“WHO IN THE ERDTREE ARE YOU!?”

This was how you met the children of Queen Marika The Eternal.

The Demi-Gods that are feared and respected by all.

Malenia, The Blade Of Miquella, a woman of impossible strength, grace, and to you, beauty. She was also pathetically inept when it came to social interaction.

Godwyn The Golden, a man of immense power and lauded as one of the greatest diplomats in history. He had a habit of saying terrifying things with a happy voice and a smile.

Miquella The Unalloyed, a being of unparalleled intelligence and magical power. He tended to have his head stuck in the clouds.

It was such an odd thing to see.

Especially considering your new job that you received as an apology for Maleina accidentally striking you.

You were now the official “Cultural Examiner”.

Also known as, the person who Malenia pays to hear talk about the day to day life of those who lived normal lives.

If there is one thing Marika needs in her life, it is a singular fixed point, an unmoving and unbreaking rock in a rough sea.

That was all she asked you to be, and the only thing she would ever request of you.

To be someone to lean on when she needed it.

She wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for you.

She wasn’t supposed to spend her nights thinking about you.

She wasn’t supposed to start to see you as more than an advisor.

But, she did.

And for years, she suffered for it.

She said she would only ever ask one thing of you, and that is an oath she intended to keep.

No matter how much she wished to ask you what you thought of her as only you had ever truly seen.

A person.

No matter how much she wished to ask you who if anyone you liked.

She occasionally caught herself thinking of you telling her that she was the one you liked.

She wanted to ask you if she was a fool for acting like a young love sick maiden in her private moments.

She knew she was.

But… she still liked to have her dreams.

Even if the nightmares were far more numerous.

Still, even if you felt the same feelings for her… could she even reciprocate them?

The blood on her hands… Her chains to the Golden Order… Her own innumerable sins… she couldn’t force that on you.

And yet… the want to simply sit with you and mumble and grumble about whatever minor inconveniences came to mind overpowered her again and again and again.

She knew she needed to stop on the off chance you reciprocate her feelings since she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from saying yes.

But she couldn’t.

And that was the only thing related to you she didn’t know how to feel about.

Melina The Kindling Maiden

Melina was born to burn.

She knew that from the moment she could comprehend the world.

Her existence was to find a Tarnished without a maiden, serve that role, and then when they reached the mountaintops, use herself as the match to burn the Erdtree.

Not once had this ever bothered her.

But now, as she stood on the edge of the forge with you, her Tarnished, on the ground behind her…

She wished she had a little bit more time with you.

To watch the person who charmed her with their strange antics and many eccentricities.

To eat Prawn with you and Boggart.

To sit by a grace and wait out the rain.

To spend the night under the stars.

To simply spend the day as the two of you always did.

But… Now that was but a sweet dream.

There was only one thing to do before she burned.

She knew better than to turn and face you.

But, that did nothing to stop the tears pricking at her eyes.

“Torrent, please, I beg of thee. Watch over My Tarnished as best you can.”

“Beloved Ranni, you know all someone would have to do to ruin that oh so perfect persona you have cultivated is to knock your books out from under you.” You told the witch with a cheshire grin.

“I have no idea what you mean, I have no mask to wea- FATHERS BALLSACK!!!” Ranni squealed as a single book was removed from the stack, sending her tumbling right into your arms.

“There she is! Ranni, the one whose mouth your mother had to wash out with soap more than anyone can ever hope to count.” you told the doll-like woman with a teasing grin as you twirled around with her.

“Wh- You son of a-” Ranni began to say, preparing to go on a tirade before stopping.

That was exactly what you wanted out of her.

For her to prove your point.

Instead-

“Ack! Cold! Cold!” you began to cry as Ranni wrapped her arms around you.

Ranni was never the type to be above pettily pranking someone.

Especially not you.

After all, if you were to be her Consort you had to know what you were getting into.

[miyaagis]

 ெ˚❀ no shame in greed. geto suguru

all men are evil and will act upon their vicious nature if given the chance—and a man in love is not the exception.

explicit content‐mdni. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ phantom of the opera au, fem!reader, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, agalmatophilia, feminine pet names, unprotected sex, mentions of violence/injury

word c. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 642

kinktober m.list

it's surprisingly tender how his lips touched the juncture of your neck and shoulder, considering the coldness that met his mouth. he was used to the silence, to the lack of reactions from you, and yet it never deterred him from his goal—to make love to you.

"darling," his usually gentle voice carried a hint of desperation, breaking slightly to give room to a breathless moan. "fuck– they don't deserve you."

a string of small kisses were peppered from your collarbone to the swell of your breast, jolts of arousal pulsing through his body like heartbeats. you were so beautiful.

his shaft, placed between your thighs, moved back and forth, gliding effortlessly thanks to the streams of cum from his previous release. the engorged tip glistened with beads of pre, weeping translucent pearls onto your skin. suguru found himself gripping your waist as he came with a broken groan, rutting his hips desperately as he sloppily kissed your lips, dragging out his orgasm.

"i love you..."

he clung onto you as the last tremors subsided, his touch gentle as he gazed at your eyes lovingly.

if only the lifeless mannequin could say it back.

—

your eyes were glued to his face—wondering what hid behind the mask. his promises sounded sincere and very appealing, the gentle timbre of his voice soothing out your apprehension.

"and how will you do that?"

he smiled. it wasn't eerie nor unsettling, quite the opposite.

"you're already so talented... so beautiful," he took a pause loaded with admiration. "leave it all to me."

suguru seemed pretty harmless from what you had seen, he obviously had a crush on you. it was cute, even. so it really came as a surprise when the main ballerina got badly injured before your very eyes.

your eyes frantically looked for him amidst the chaos, the screams of pain and horror successfully concealing his shadow lurking behind the stage.

with your heart pounding rapidly in your chest, you stared at him as he placed a single rose on the floor and ran away.

he actually did it.

—

suguru found it ironic that now that he could hear you, cotton seemed to plug his ears and concealed the delicious moans you were gifting him.

"suguru... ohhh that's good," you licked your lips, your throat parched after several rounds of intense sex.

the look in his eyes was crazed, and you found his little obsession with you oddly arousing.

his heavy sack smacked lewdly against the curve of your ass, his position on top of you allowing him to be close to your face as it contorted in bliss. after a while, his pace quickened significantly, signaling his impeding release. with a thumb on your swollen clit, he circled it tenderly at the same time his lips attached to your nipple.

"they're all idiots," his grunts against your breasts were desperate, breathless chants laced with disgust directed at those who were blind to your talent. "...with peas instead of brains. you're special, gifted with so much talent, my dear. my darling girl..."

his body shivered with pleasure pulsing through his nerves, bursts of warmth spreading from his loins as he pumped his seed inside of you.

in the throes of passion and climax, his mask allowed a sliver of the tainted skin to be shown under the candlelight. the mix of horror and pleasure made your pussy flutter deliciously around his girth, squeezing every drop of semen out of him while your own orgasm took over your body.

"I will give you the world, my love." he promised in between kisses, his dark gaze heavy with love and lust. "that's your rightful stage, and this is your home. you'll be the star of every show."

after what he had already done for you, you knew you had no reason to doubt him.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumptober 2024 No.18 & No. 20

Prompt 18: Survivor’s guilt (Alt)

Prompt 20: “It’s not your fault.”

Warnings: Mentions of canonical character death

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

There was no answer when you knocked, the silence as thick as the tension, making the door heavier and harder to open. The single candle had burned down to an oddly shaped sculpture, its curves and dips dimming the flame’s reach. The dinner tray you had brought earlier remained untouched, the soup cold and sandwich soggy.

Your heart ached just as much as it burned, scorched with rage that simmered just below your ribs. Daryl was on the edge of the mattress, staring blankly at the floor. It was as if he’d turned to stone, frozen within a nightmare. And you feared he had forever become trapped in a place you couldn’t reach.

“Daryl.” You tried, keeping your distance. He was a wounded animal, fearful and dangerous at the same time. He remained as he was. He had clung to you so tightly when he had clambered off the back of the bike, his legs giving and his tears flowing. It had been the only reaction you had seen from him in his day and a half back at Hilltop. “Daryl.”

You still didn’t approach, but finally he blinked, his bruised and bloodshot eyes sliding over to finally acknowledge you. The attention didn’t last. He was back to staring at the floor within seconds.

You risked two deliberate steps toward him before crouching, making yourself smaller in hope that it would not arouse the terror held at bay within him.

“You need to eat, sleep.”

Nothing.

Sighing, you slowly stood and stepped back before turning away, bending over the candle in preparation to blow it out, a new one beside it so as to keep the darkness away from your partner. The least you could do was stay, give him a measure of comfort that he wasn’t alone.

“Should’a been me.”

His voice was raspy, tired, and so unexpected that you gasped. When you spun to regard him, he hadn’t moved. “What?”

Daryl cleared his throat after an agonizing period of silence. “Was ready. Deserved it. Should’a been me.”

A flash of red, Glenn’s final words. Your lip quivered and your eyes closed as you gathered your bearings. “No.” You whispered, reassuming the earlier position a few feet from him. “Daryl, it’s not your fault.”

“Was. Is.” He muttered, a tear breaking free to cascade down his cheek. You wanted so badly to wipe it away and hold him.

“Negan was going to do what he was going to do. You had no influence over him.” You attempted, dropping to your knees and shuffling forward a few inches at a slow pace.

“F’I hadn’t—” The words dried up on the tip of his tongue, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh, Daryl.” You knew he would carry this forever, a guilt on his shoulders that he’d never shed. He still carried Beth after all this time. The weight had lessened, finally splintering off to allow you to carry a portion for him, a burden you were more than willing to bear for him. “You couldn’t stop him.”

His eyes slowly peeled open, wet and shining, and you could no longer stay away.

“Please.” You began. “Let me help you.” When his head turned, even with the heavy pain his expression bore, you had never been more relieved. No, that wasn’t true. The relief came when he nodded, a simple dip of his head that had you carefully climbing to your feet and approaching.

When your hand touched his shoulder, the dam broke. His hands found your waist and pulled you toward him, his face finding shelter against your stomach as his shoulders shook in silent sobs. Gentle fingers carded through his hair, hushed syllables making an effort to soak up even a portion of his suffering.

Each tear, each jerk of his body was gasoline on the inferno raging within you.

And Negan would burn.

[sl-vega]

⍣ ೋ STUCK WITH YOU

Pairing: Michael Kaiser x [FEM!] Reader

Genre: professional figure skater au, rivals to lovers (?), can be platonic if you squint, oneshot/drabble

Synopsis: In which you're stuck sharing the rink with your insufferable rival.

CW: swearing, ooc kaiser (?)

You laced up your skates and stepped into the rink, the cold frigid air was a familiar feeling to you. You glided across the ice, the sound of your skates was music to your ears.

"Oh, it's you."

You heard a voice that was all too familiar to you. A sound that was worse than nails on a chalkboard. You turned around to see a young man step into the rink.

"Kaiser."

"(L/N)."

He smiled, sickening and fake. "What are you doing here?" You asked with disgust. Your manager rented it for you, and you alone. Didn't she?

"It's a public rink, schatz." He explained, using the pet name he always opted for whenever he wanted to get under your skin.

"We just happened to schedule at the same time and some fools didn't tell you that it was already booked." He gestured to the exit of the rink.

"So if you'd just make your way out, I'd be ever so grateful." He smirked skating right by you.

You could've left, in all honesty you should've left. But leaving would be admitting defeat to Kaiser, and to you, that was a fate worse than death.

Were you being petty?

Yes.

Did you care?

Nope.

You skated in his direction, passing right by him. "No, I'm perfectly fine with staying." You attempted to sound nonchalant.

"Didn't know you were this desperate to have some alone time with me, meine liebe. Obsessive much?"

He smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. The media had taken a liking to you and Kaiser's rivalry and they adored spinning the story into some rivals to lovers situation-ship.

It didn't help that everyone thought that Kaiser teasing you was some kind of love-language.

"Shut up." You muttered, picking up your pace to match his. The two of you were skating laps around the rink.

"You're not denying anything~"

"Shut up!"

"Make me."

His face was inches away from yours, you could feel his warm breath against your lips. He smirked, pulling away.

"You're gonna have to try harder if you really want me that badly, prinzessin." He teased you again. You swatted his shoulder.

"Well, as much as I love messing with you, don't you need to get some practice in?"

Huh, oddly thoughtful of him, maybe he isn't so bad?

"You really need it." He added, soaking up your agitated expression.

Never mind. Once a bastard, always a bastard.

You sighed making you way to the other side of the ring. Why must I always entertain his antics?

Maybe you have a crush on him~

You recalled your manager's words from a few weeks ago. You quickly dismissed the thought, there was no way you'd have feelings for Michael Kaiser of all people. Right?

You looked back at him, still gliding around his half of the rink.

Well I do need a partner for this routine...

You were probably going to regret this later, but practice was practice, regardless of who it was with.

"Kaiser!"

He looked up at you, and you beckoned for him to come over.

"Yes schatz?"

You held out your hand, making direct eye contact with him. "Practice with me."

He took your hand in his. "Knew you couldn't resist me."

You rolled your eyes.

Maybe being stuck with you isn't the worst thing after all.

Gift for the lovely @latay7 srry that this is so short but hey, I tried <3

Idea from @eggosforbreakfast on wattpad

[boraswan]

close your eyes

pairing: yoongi x gn! reader

words: 1k

warnings: none? first kiss. a lot of fluff. yoongi calls reader “honey” several times.

♡

You lay in his bed cuddled up together, your head on his chest and his right hand tangled in your hair. He listened contently to your rambling about your current obsession.

“I mean seriously, can you even believe that yoongi?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I believe it, honey.” He looked into your eyes, and then down to your lips, licking his softly. You two have had a few moments like this now. Everything was totally perfect, you were comfortable, even being so close to him like you were now. But every time the energy shifted, you couldn’t help but get nervous. You didn’t mean to shut him down. But just like every other time, nothing could stop the subconscious tensing of your body.

“Hey, is everything alright, honey?”

His hand had stopped moving in your hair now.

“Yes, sorry. I don’t mean to be so jumpy.” you said looking back down at the foot of the bed. You started rubbing his chest with your free hand. A failed distraction.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay. It’s just…”

He paused for a moment, obviously thinking carefully about how to phrase what he wanted to say.

“Do you feel like we are moving too fast? I don’t want to rush you. I notice that every time I try to kiss you, it seems like you…shy away?”

You quickly shook your head no.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think we are moving too fast. I want to kiss you Yoongi, I just…get really nervous when it’s about to happen.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay.” he said softly, smiling down at you.

“Oh…okay?” you said while letting out an awkward laugh.

Not the reaction you were expecting.

“Yes, of course honey. We shouldn’t do anything you aren’t ready for.”

It was your turn to be quiet in thought now. You wanted to kiss him. So badly. But how could you tell him the real reason why you were nervous? Maybe it would be better if you just kinda went for it. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him right?

“Honey, look at me.”

You struggled to meet his gaze, but forced yourself to anyway. You felt so exposed for some reason. You hadn’t even told him yet. There was no way this was going to work. You definitely couldn’t kiss him if you struggled to just make eye contact.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

He was making you too flustered. You already felt overwhelmed by the situation, really not expecting to have been called out like you were.

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. Not if it’s got you worked up like this.”

He really wasn’t going to drop it. You were silent for a few more moments.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s just me.” he said, much softer this time.

“Tell you what, I’ll close my eyes while you tell me, will that help?” A little thing you guys did when you had something overwhelming to share.

Yoongi had suggested he close his eyes when you told him you had a crush on him. Oddly enough, it worked.

“Yes, please.”

He shut them.

Here goes nothing.

“I haven’t kissed anyone before. I really do want to do it with you. I promise. It just, makes me so nervous because… I don’t know how. And I don’t wanna mess up, or mess us up.” you said, looking at the ceiling.

Yoongi took your silence as a sign that you were done, opening his eyes.

But you were still looking at the ceiling, dim lighting in the room barely allowing you to see the whole thing. But you didn’t need to be looking at him to feel his eyes on you.

“You won’t.” he said seriously.

“W-What?”

“You won’t mess us up. I like everything about you, no matter how you kiss me. No matter if you kiss me. We’ll go at your pace, honey.”

He was so good to you.

“I like everything about you too.” you said sheepishly.

“I’m glad sweetheart.” he said chuckling softly.

He used the arm you were laying on to pull you into a tight hug, and brought the other one to rub your back up and down in soothing circles.

“Yoongi?”

He loosened his grip to look down at you.

“Yes, honey?”

He looked at you so lovingly. You thought you were going to melt.

“Would it be okay if … I kissed you now?”

You fiddled with the neckline of his shirt nervously. Smiling, he gently nudged your face to look at him.

“Of course, honey.”

“Can you … close your eyes?”

His chest shook with laughter.

“Yes, love.”

He looked at you lovingly, rubbing up and down your arms. Shifting the two of you to be laying down facing each other, he made sure you could lean in easily.

“Are you okay? Do you still want to do this?” he asked softly.

“Yes. And I’m okay.” You smiled up at him.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.” you breathed out.

“Okay pretty girl.”

He sent you one last smile, before slowly letting his eyes fall shut.

You looked down at his lips, and back up to his closed eyes. You didn’t feel like running away. You felt completely calm. It was perfect.

You scooted in a little bit, tentatively resting your hand on the side of his neck. Taking one last deep breath, you leaned in slowly. Placing a chaste kiss on your boyfriend’s lips. He brought his hand up to the side of your face as soon as your mouths met. Not trapping you, but a comforting embrace. Remind you that it was just him, and it was okay. You allowed yourself to relax fully, closing your eyes at last.

When you pulled away and looked at him, his eyes were still closed. His face was expressionless, completely relaxed. You started moving your thumb on his throat back and forth, causing him to slowly open his eyes. His silence unnerved you.

“W-Was it okay?”

He looked at you with a dazed, far away look in his eyes, one you couldn’t read.

“Can I give you another one?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out.

♡

plz I love him so much

thx for reading <3

[sixosix]

BUT THEY ALL LEAD BACK TO YOU | S. HEIZOU

he said, “it’s a shame, then, that it’s against my ideals to commit a crime.” you couldn’t think too hard about what he said because he distracted you quickly with a kiss, even forgetting your name for a moment.

tags implied…Ahem yk, getting together, heizou is pining BAD but so are u (carnally now too ig), sweet sweet fluff

a/n 2700 words, holy shit this was longer than i planned T__T

previous part

"why does this shikanoin heizou want to meet me that badly? how does he even know me?"

kazuha smiles lightly, content with watching you make a mess of your temporary room like a cyclone. “i’m not so certain. heizou has a habit of prying into the lives of people he hears mentioned. i was reminiscing about the day i met you while catching up with him, and he insisted i introduce him before i could talk about anyone else.”

seriously, who does that?

kazuha had mentioned shikanoin heizou before, as with his other close friends. you were listening but not paying attention enough to have him as your surprise not-in-a-romantic-way-date like a pop quiz. it was as though you didn’t have enough time to prepare for heizou’s inevitable “what time and date did i meet kaedehara kazuha and what’s the name of my distant cousin?” but that’s not the case right now, which means what else could doushin shikanoin want from you? a good first impression and a far-from-suspicious job, obviously.

“there’s nothing about me—my hair’s a mess, why didn’t you tell me?— that could possibly warrant a tenryou commission detective’s interest in that way.”

you pick an unruly strand of hair off, then belatedly realize that walking outside would lead to more of them, and there is no point in doing so. you’re deeply stressed.

“clearly he disagrees,” your friend says in return, amused. you do not share his delight, back to pacing across and around your room.

“kazuha,” you groan, “he’s your friend, isn’t he? can’t you just ask what he wants from me? get this over with.” you abhor first introductions. can’t kazuha just tell you if you should ship your ass back to liyue right this instant?

“are you truly this nervous?”

“he’s a detective, kazuha. and no one can know what i do for a living—yelan will kick me out!”

“you don’t have to worry too much. he bears no ill intentions towards you. if he did,” kazuha pauses to meet your eyes intently, turning serious, “i wouldn’t have offered to introduce you to him in the first place.”

you throw your hands in the air, exasperated.

that answers absolutely nothing and only brings more questions. what does he want from you if not your occupation? surely a detective with a renowned reputation such as himself taking an interest in you means that he wants you to spill truths you’ve sworn to lie about.

maybe it’s not too late to ask if beidou wants a trip back home at this very moment.

“y/n,” kazuha says, with a hint of a fond smile, “let fate take the lead for today. you’ll find that it’s nothing like you’re agonizing over.”

your first memory of inazuma city is when kazuha was hauled away by a few people and left you stranded in the crowd, the same one who had seen you tailing kazuha like a lost puppy—the same one who treated your friend as something sort of a celebrity because of his famous block.

in the few days you’ve been wandering around here, you’ve learned that people everywhere, no matter the region, are always too curious. and somehow prepared to bargain for information.

you’re breezing through everyone in hopes they can sense you don’t want to talk with any of them at the moment. the last time you were lenient, new rumors sprung in the air the first few hours you arrived at inazuma, saying that you’re their ticket to meeting kaedahara kazuha himself.

you’d been deeply affronted. you’re not a scammer; even you’re incapable of tying kazuha to one place, much less holding a meet-and-greet for his fans.

“sorry, sorry, hey—wait up! you!” someone calls out from behind, sounding oddly familiar.

irritation spikes.

“i don’t know who kaedehara kazuha is, sorry,” you say, speeding past stalls and apologizing in advance for people who swerve out of your way.

but this person is determined, somehow swift enough to seize your wrist. there was a second where you forgot where you were for a moment and jerked your arm back in favor of a very, very violent self-defense— even so, this person’s grip was surprisingly strong.

he smiles when you meet his eyes. “i was looking for you, actually.”

there is no mistaking it. his face had been hard to tell in dim lighting, but even then, you could make out the soft features and the distinct twin moles illuminated by blue.

you couldn’t confuse him for someone else even if you tried. the moment you stared a little too long when he was being dragged away, you set it upon yourself for today—as if he was never unfamiliar.

“i know you,” you say, “you’re the drunk guy.”

and then it hits you harder than yelan’s kick on a good day.

this is the same guy kazuha said is a tenryou commission detective—their best one, people say, renowned for his commendable skills and intuition. you were expecting someone older, taller, who fit that description, and definitely, someone who didn’t look like…this.

“yes, that’s me,” he grins brightly. “hi.”

seeing him up close on a bright, sunny day was not the best idea. only here can you see the startlingly compelling shade of green on his eyes and the softness of his burgundy hair. only here can you realize that this man is exactly your type.

“hello,” you say pleasantly and hope you aren’t gaping.

shikanoin heizou looks around, taking in the number of people passing by. he looks back at you, and leans in close to whisper, “let’s go somewhere else.”

you follow him into a food stall, with only one person on the far edge eating. you take a seat on the two chairs laid out on the far right with him. this is starting to feel less like an interrogation and more like something you’re not willing to get into at the moment.

heizou leans against the wooden counter, announcing his order. he suggests food for you upon seeing the conflict on your face.

“you’re from liyue, right? you live in liyue?” is the first thing heizou asks, his arm still resting on the counter with his chin on his palm.

he looks enticing in the gold glow of the lanterns on both sides of the stall. you let your eyes stray, pretending you’re entranced by the ramen and not his arms. “i’m not here on any official business. i’m just here because kazuha begged me to accompany him to inazuma.”

“from what i heard, you jumped at the boat the moment kazuha offered inazuma for you.”

your brow twitches, caught. “details, details.”

the distinct scents of different foods sold in other stalls along with this fills your senses. your stomach rumbles, a gentle reminder. an embarrassing one, at that.

heizou smiles, and it’s almost sweet if you weren’t so suspicious. “my treat.”

“...shikanoin-san,” you begin, “is there a reason why you were so adamant about meeting me?”

his gaze drifts then, ears darkening. “do you remember that night we met? i dragged myself to work the next day, head pounding, my desk a mess from stumbling around it the night before. my mind was elsewhere. my peers ushered me when they caught me snea—ahem, doing patrols.”

“did they belittle you once again or something?”

“i’m pleased you still remember that.” your face burns, intently staring at the ramen the stall owner is preparing. “they told me all about how i was blabbing their ears off about someone. someone i insisted must be a youkai with how uncharacteristically enamored i was. they told me i kept asking to get myself drunk again to trace myself back to you—and i almost considered it sober.”

“that’s stupid,” you say, pretending you aren’t flustered by this.

“isn’t it?” he doesn’t look embarrassed at all. “but then i saw kazuha. we caught up, and he told me about this friend who is a stranger in inazuma; my intuition honed in on your name the moment he mentioned it.”

“and what do you know—” heizou glances at you, “—my intuition still hasn’t failed me.”

this could’ve been the moment you realized that shikanoin heizou is a dangerous, dangerous man, but really, it was on that night when he had been an ungraceful mess, letting you pin him against the tree with a gleam in his eye.

finally, food is served, and you don’t have to answer that. you can only hope that heizou won’t hone in your face the same way, and you can excuse the steam of the ramen as the culprit of its heat.

“so,” heizou begins, and you dread how it’s going, “you come here often?”

you hide a laugh. “you shouldn’t be so curious about me, for your own sake.”

“why? are you hiding something?”

he is no threat at all, you realize. you’re almost desperate, because whatever is happening right now is far from your expertise. with a glimpse of honesty: “i have no obligation to give you information about myself or my field of work. if i spill anything, the commission will never hear from you again.”

“is that so?” he looks excited.

shikanoin heizou is strange. so why are you fighting off a smile?

is it also so strange you realize his body is completely facing you? he speaks again, “well, i heard from kaedehara about a case here in inazuma that i would’ve been thrilled solving, and you were the one to bring it to a close before anyone else caught wind of it. before i caught wind of it.”

you remember that. it was practically nothing. the bandits were just unfortunate enough to do their crimes in front of your face, trained and armed for these very moments.

but where is he going with this? “i have committed no crimes myself, detective.”

“that’s not what i said,” heizou grins, resting his chin on the center of his palm. “i just want to say i appreciate you for helping in your own way. even if that meant we had to deal with interrogating dazed, thoroughly beaten-up nobushi. i want you to tell me about what went down in excruciating detail some other time.”

“you’re welcome. are you going to arrest me for interfering?”

he hums. “why do you want me to arrest you so much? want my handcuffs on you that badly?”

you’re glad you’ve already swallowed the noodles before he opened his mouth. “that’s not what i mean and you know it.”

heizou giggles, the bastard. “cute,” he murmurs as he sips on his drink, smiling to himself.

are you the one with alcohol in your system this time? because the tension is suffocating and you want him bad. “you’re too forward, shikanoin-san.”

“heizou,” he corrects. “and what’s the point in beating around the bush? we both know what i want at the end of the day. you think i meet you again and i’ll let you slip from my fingers again?”

it’s hard not to want the same. it’s itching under your fingertips, begging to be closer, to feel his laugh against your skin. “let’s pray kazuha doesn’t find out.”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” or makes things extremely awkward for him.

that night is also the same night you last see shikanoin heizou for a while. you told him about how you were leaving the next day, and getting attached would be a bad idea.

he had been hovering over you when he said, “it’s a shame, then, that it’s against my ideals to commit a crime.” you couldn’t think too hard about what he said because he distracted you quickly with a kiss, even forgetting your name for a moment.

with inazuma added to your to-do list for next year (ASAP!!! written beside it), you and the crux sail back to liyue. you were already starting to miss it, but homesickness washed over soon enough at the sight of the familiar wharf. people wave at you, saying they missed you, asking if you enjoyed your vacation.

“hey, you.”

you don’t have to look to know who it is. “yelan.” you crane your neck. “i haven’t seen you since i got back.”

“there wasn’t much you missed out on; i was dead to the world,” yelan says with a cunning smile, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “how was your trip? had fun? bring home anything good?”

you smile to yourself, “i had fun.”

“oh,” yelan smirks. “i see. what did they call it? summer fling.”

“no, nothing like that.”

she flicks your forehead. “you’re still a lousy liar as ever.”

the days pass, and it’s almost easy to forget you even went to inazuma. everything falls back into place, as routine dictated—if it weren’t for the way you keep thinking about bare sides, olive eyes, and unending playful banter.

although you weren’t slacking off, it was easy to tell that your mind was far away when you walked past couples whispering to themselves, tucked into some dark corner.

“hey, y/n! kazuha is calling for you in the wharf.”

“coming! hold on!”

the crux fleet’s grand ship looms over other boats. curiously, you note that the crew has only begun to disembark. beidou waves at you when she spots you, and you wave back with a wide smile.

she gestures at the side. you follow her gaze.

if you didn’t know who he was, you’d think—with the way he walks around and smiles at curious onlookers as if he knows them personally—that he belongs here. but you do, you do know him, madly so. he’s been in your mind for far too much that you convinced yourself he’s just a fragment of your imagination until he catches sight of you and brightens.

“y/n!” he says, enthusiastically making his way towards you.

“heizou…?” you let him tackle you into a hug, too stunned to do anything else. “wait, heizou!?” you pull away, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “what are you doing here… in—in liyue? who…”

heizou sighs, looking away despite all the confidence he’s bragged about. his face is very, very red. “it’s a long story.”

kazuha appears behind him, startling the both of you bad enough to have you freezing in sync. “he jumped at the boat the moment i offered. it was starting to get disheartening seeing the longing looks.”

he definitely knows something between you two went down.

“thanks again, kazuha, i owe you one!”

“two, heizou.”

“two,” heizou amends. “you’re the best.”

kazuha quirks a brow, amused. “flattery won’t make me lessen it, doushin shikanoin.”

“dammit,” heizou curses, smiling when you laugh.

“i’ll leave you two to it,” kazuha says, and despite all this, he looks genuinely happy. maybe because he’s rubbing on your face that he’s right—this was far from what you were agonizing over.

“ah, so you work for…the ministry of civil affairs.” heizou definitely doesn’t believe this, and he doesn’t even bother trying to hide it on his face. “the youngest, too, i heard on the way here. very good with a sword.”

“don’t underestimate me,” you instinctively say. deep inside, you’re pleased with the way your friends are giving him a good impression of you. “i do more than issue bounties on wanted criminals.”

“i knew that. though most of them don’t need to carry around a weapon as sharp as that.” you try not to react too strongly, but based on the way heizou smiles, you know that he can see straight through you. damn intuition or whatever. “and you don’t have to explain to me, i’m not underestimating you. i’m the youngest in the commission, too, you see?”

“oh…” you do remember him repeatedly mentioning how extraordinary and young he is.

“look at that,” he coos, his arms snaking around your waist, “we have so much in common already. what are you gonna do about it? shikanoin heizou, in the flesh, all for you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “is that all you think about?”

“you’re all i think about.”

you learn that it’s difficult to keep heizou’s hands away from you.

( “do you like him?”

“huh? who? shikanoin heizou? he’s annoying. the flowers in chinju forest are taller than him.”

kazuha looks thoughtful. “are they?”

“yes. they were taller than me, too, but that’s not the point.”

“and so was the answer to my question,” kazuha says, “you didn’t outright say no.”

your face burns, caught.

kazuha grins. “i’m glad to have someone accompany my every visit to inazuma from now on.” )

a/n thank u for reading!!!!! i feel like i didn't do heizou enough justice </3 but i wasn't expecting the first part to get attention at all so thank u to the people who commented and reblogged <333

[en-geneisaxx]

Case: L̶O̶V̶3A̶N̶D̶R̶3V̶3N̶63

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝖒𝖆𝖋𝖎𝖆, 𝖌𝖚𝖓𝖘, 𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊, 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉, 𝖒𝖉𝖓𝖎 (𝖒𝖙𝖇𝖆)

𝚂𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝙹𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜. 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙰 𝚝𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚏𝚒𝚊 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐. 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘏𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴!! 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘤. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 '𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯-𝘵𝘩𝘦-𝘨𝘰' 𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐'𝘮 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 :(

Likes, reblogs and/or following me will be much appreciated!!

Preview:

Something had to go wrong. Nothing, and I repeat, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ever goes perfect, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫.

That thought never left my mind, but, why waste such a perfect day with doubts and worries? No, I would regret that.

Turns out, it was going to be regretful either way.

I allowed myself to live in the blissful hours, alone, forgetting about my loving family. The levitating feeling, one that I was desperate for, was a curse. Forget about the sunshine, it was always at home, always with my family.

As the sun gave its goodbyes for the day, I rush over to my house, bringing along the foods and toys I, out of pitiful luck, managed to acquire without a coin to pay; I was grateful mother nature gave me the treasures on my outing in the woods today.

I didn't walk, I skipped instead, with such joy to be able to provide the family and, I have to admit, to hear the praises with such pride in their voice, all accompanied by their heart-warming smiles. My young sister would be preoccupied with the stuffed teddy bear, something that must've been lost by its owner. I thanked the universe for this gift, but felt bad for whoever lost such a prize. I had to, mentally, thank them too.

It's strange, how a nine-year-old could be so mature yet so youthful, especially someone with a heart of an angel. God's child they say, but would it be even if she took the wrong turn? What would happen to her once Satan interfered with her bubbly life, turning it into a nightmare that will be engraved in her memories?

Each skip to the house was a step closer to the dreaded ending, one that'll make her turn into a 'monster'.

No one is a monster, it's just that we can be hurt so badly it affects our morals, and it dims our pure light.

The sky has dressed in its black attire, mourning the lifeless bodies that lay in a house with foundations of love.

It starts to rain, for the clouds know what to expect when an innocent child has to face hell instead of the welcoming arms of care and comfort. It'll be scary, how quickly a baby must mature, and survive with an overwhelming feeling of agony, hatred, and vengeance.

"Eomma, Appa, sister!" You announced your arrival, yet it felt oddly strange. The lights are off, and the door is slightly open. You slow down, taking cautious steps towards the front door, with one thought in mind: 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

It's terrifying you, you're unprepared, and it's so late at night, a chance for young minds to bring its fears into reality.

Who would come into your house, let alone leave it in such a state...unless they never left.

You're petrified at this moment, heart beating in such an abnormal pace, your body is so stiff it's like you need to run away. But what about your family? You can't abandon them.

One step...two...three. There, lies the sinful acts displayed in the living room. One, two, three bodies who looked exactly like the people you love covered in blood when they shouldn't have. And a mysterious figure in the darkness, presenting a disgusting smile, as if killing was nothing.

Tagging: @pockettwinzz @potatohoon @diorsyun @heeslomll @hoonieshoneymain @rinbowaman @sungvrhs @emi-en @jaylaxies @velvetkisscs @dollywons

[waterfallofspace]

Actually Adorable

The one in which Jon and Martin both discover something new about each other.

feat. martin with kitten allergies, and snzs~ not actually one of my main t/ma snz bois, but he's absolutely precious to me, and i got a request, so I hope this is enjoyable!

(warning: there is talk of wheezing in this, it's pretty light and nothing super heavy, but just be aware of that incase you don't like that sort of thing)

Characters: Martin, Jon, Tim Word Count: 4k (so much for 'small drabbles')

He’d normally avoid the alley, but being as late as he is, Martin finds himself with no choice. It’s not as if it’s a particularly bad part of town. In fact, while the institute doesn’t get much respect, everything around it always seemed to be well kept. At least, everything outside of the archive, that is. Still, ducking through the alleys of London isn’t exactly Martin’s idea of a safe commute. 

The city’s background ambience dulls in the quiet street, Martin finding himself humming slightly just to fill the gap. It’s a fast walk, cutting nearly ten minutes off his commute. Again, normally that wouldn’t be worth much, but being already nearly twenty minutes late, he’ll take what he can get. 

“Jon’s going to kill me…” he hums to himself. It’s not as if anyone’s around to hear him singing about his death in an alley behind the institute. It’s okay to lighten the mood a bit before his imminent demise. 

A sudden, yet oddly soft noise knocks him from this spiral of thought. He barely manages to catch the scream that starts, smothering it into a strangled noise of pure panic. Martin scans the alley, heart beating into his throat. It takes him a minute to locate the source of the sound, and the sight that greets him is enough to leave him speechless. 

There, in the corner of the alley, crouching beside a few abandoned boxes, is Jon. As in Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the magnus institute, his boss. In an alley. Crouching. 

“J- Jon..?” Martin whispers, almost hoping he isn’t heard. The wish is, albeit self-fullingly, granted. Jon doesn’t look up, still entirely focused on whatever task has brought him here. His hand is reaching out behind the boxes, and Martin can’t seem to make out what he’s doing. 

Martin finds himself standing there for almost too long, debating what to do. Okay, there’s a few ways this could go. Option one; he can go back the way he came and take the extra nearly twenty minutes it’ll take to get all the way back, and just hope Jon’s too busy to notice. No, Jon will definitely be back inside by then and he’ll be screwed. 

Okay so option two; shuffle past Jon as fast as humanly possible, and hope Jon doesn’t see him. Except what if he does, and Martin didn’t announce himself, and then Jon thinks he’s a creepy stalker, prowling the back alleys and looking for- no, that won’t do. 

So option three it is; announce himself and make sure Jon knows he’s there, and try to explain that he was running late (and that he’s so sorry for that) and hope that whatever Jon’s doing isn’t any form of criminal activity that would lead to getting fired-

Another soft noise cuts through these thoughts, Martin realizing it’s the same one as earlier. He manages to focus his gaze on Jon, watching as Jon kneels down closer to the floor, reaching out his hand again. This time a small form crawls out from behind the box, and rubs up against the hand. Oh. 

Martin finds himself nearly fainting with relief, the million ways this situation could end badly starting to fade as he watches the scene unfold. Jon has sunk fully to a sitting position by now, coaxing the kitten closer with a mixture of soft cooing and gentle tongue clicks. The kitten seems enraptured, beginning to let out a purr as it sinks into Jon’s lap. 

They stay like this for a few minutes, Martin unable to draw his eyes away as Jon strokes the kitten behind the ears, continuing to speak softly to it. The kitten, for its part, purrs loudly enough that even standing a few paces away, Martin can hear it clearly. Jon has a look on his face Martin’s never seen him have. It’s mesmerizing, and Martin has to fight to keep the warmth from flooding to his cheeks. He’d never known Jon was such a cat person, but he seems a natural at it. 

There’s something so… open about Jon’s posture. It’s an unfamiliar sight on the normally politely restrained boss. His voice, which would usually carry a tight air about it, is soft. Warm. He’s… almost adorable like this. It’s a tone Martin didn’t even know Jon could produce, though he feels a bit bad thinking that. Of course Jon can be soft, he’s just always at work when they see each other. Not the place for such things. 

There’s a slight pang in his chest as Martin starts to drift into imagining Jon speaking to him with the same- No. Don’t be creepy, that’s a completely unreasonable train of thought. This is your boss, and you are watching him in an alley. Okay, line definitely crossed. 

“Jon?” Martin speaks up, clearing his throat first, hoping that’ll be a touch less startling. 

Jon nearly jumps out of his skin, eyes snapping to face Martin. The kitten, however, barely stirs. It seems far too content in Jon’s lap to worry about anything else. It purrs deeply, melting into Jon’s chest, dozing lightly. 

“Martin? What the hell are you doing here?” Jon asks, all softness drained from his tone. Martin feels another pang, but pushes it down. He’s just surprised Jon in a back alley, of course his tone is tense. 

“S- sorry! I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you, I promise, I was just running late- which I know I should have been more prepared for, but it was that kind of morning- which isn’t an excuse! But the point is I was trying to save some time, and-” Martin feels the words start pouring out before he can really stop them. It always seems to happen when he’s nervous, and around Jon? That’s almost always. 

The look on Jon’s face is hard to read, and Martin manages to cut himself off abruptly as Jon holds up a hand.

“S-sorry,” He stammers out again, meeting Jon’s eyes carefully. 

“It’s of no matter,” Jon sighs, glancing down at the kitten before tracing back up to Martin.

“He’s cute!” Martin says, hoping desperately to break the tension. He reaches down and gives the kitten a light pet, smiling as it leans against his touch. “I didn’t know you were a cat person! What’s his name?” 

“Doesn’t have one,” Jon replies, looking almost tenderly at the mass of fur. “Found her out here. At least I think it’s a girl. Not exactly an expert.” 

“Oh, r- right! She’s cute then!”

Jon clears his throat, “Indeed.” There’s a pause, then he continues with, “I was just…” 

Martin waits for the end, but it doesn’t come. Jon’s mouth sort of just… closes. He won’t meet Martin’s eye, and for a second it seems like… embarrassment? But for what? Finding a kitten? Petting it? 

Martin doesn’t have the time to linger on these thoughts, however, as a new one presents itself with urgency. He has to sneeze. And badly. 

He pulls away from Jon, taking a few steps back and managing to get an arm over his face before the first breaks through; a tiny stifle that’s barely audible over the kitten’s still pronounced purring. “hh’nxt!” 

Jon doesn’t reply, simply watching Martin with… another unreadable expression. Martin stutters out a few apologies, before turning on his heel and ducking back into his arm for another tight, “ih’nxt! hh’ngt!” 

This time Jon does reply, or at least… Martin thinks he does? Whatever it is comes out hushed, barely a whisper, the only trace it was even there is Jon’s lips seeming to form some sort of words. He does, however, stand up. The kitten gives a disgruntled mew as it’s jostled from its position, sluggishly crawling back onto the ground.  

“Well,” Jon says, lightly brushing off his legs. “Shall we go inside then?” 

Martin blinks a few times from behind his arm. He was expecting some form of lecture about being late, but… gift horses and all. He decides to just take this mercy. He drops his arm and nods silently, falling into step behind Jon as they walk, not quite together, but both in the same direction. 

“What about the kitten?” Martin finds himself asking, regretting it instantly as Jon’s entire back goes tense. “Or, I- well, I was just… I don’t want to leave it to die out there… N- not that I’m saying you’d- I didn’t mean you-” 

“I’m sure that Sasha or Tim can find it a nice place to stay,” Jon replies, voice tight and contained. “Tim’s always looking for an excuse to dip out of work. As for right now, we are late, and I know I have a lot of work to be doing. I’m sure you do too.” 

Martin curses himself internally, that was of course a stupid thing to ask. Jon’s obviously a bit on edge about being seen like that, and it’s not really like he can blame him! He’d certainly not want anyone at the archives to catch him unawares. If someone walked in on him recording his poetry… Martin feels a shudder at the thought. And then another one, as his nose begins to burn again. 

He manages to stifle these too, a quick triple that he’s almost certain Jon doesn’t hear. It’s a short walk to the institute, of which Martin is deeply grateful. The itch in his nose is rapidly growing, and it’s beginning to spread to his eyes. He’d really thought just a single small pet would be alright. They were outside, it wasn’t like he was holding the kitten to his face or anything like that. 

Yet it was becoming rapidly apparent that it was not alright. Thankfully, Jon still seemed oblivious. Or perhaps was just giving him the courtesy of pretending he didn’t notice the increasing amount of sniffling. 

“hk’gt! eh’nxt! nxgt!” 

Or the small bouts of sneezing that kept breaking free. Martin had always been quite allergic to cats, but could never quite find it in himself to dislike them. They’re such intelligent animals, and so cute, and fluffy, and… well, they always seemed to like him back. He’d been told more than once by their owners that cats can always spot the allergic one, and seem to gravitate towards them. In his experience at least, this had been true. 

“Martin!” Jon called, snapping him back into focus. Turns out he was so focused on his own thoughts he’d nearly walked right past the institute entirely. “Planning on coming into work?” 

It was heavily sarcastic, and Martin felt the blush sink deeper into his ears as he gave a light nod and muttered apology. He hurried through the door Jon was holding open, ducking his head a bit to avoid Jon’s glare. 

Just walking past him, Martin could see the fur coating Jon’s entire lap, and spreading up over his vest. The sight of it reflexively brought his hand to his nose, pinching it shut as his eyes crashed close against another round of- “h’kngt! nngt! hk’ngxt!” 

This time Jon did offer a blessing, to which Martin replied with thanks, apologizing again. Jon’s face is unreadable, and Martin chokes back the urge to apologize. Again.  It seems it’s the only thing he’s capable of doing anymore. Though, with Jon… that was starting to feel like the norm. With him, it always felt like no matter what Martin did, it was always wrong. 

Before he can get too lost in that trainwreck of thoughts, Martin pulls himself together, and gives Jon a polite excuse, attempting to move to the kitchen. 

“Martin, wait-” Jon starts, before awkwardly pausing. There’s a beat of silence, both of them staring at each other. Martin blinks slowly, feeling a bit worried as the seconds seem to tick on forever. The more time passes, the harder Martin finds it to ignore the tingling spreading throughout his sinuses. Finally, Jon manages to offer a weak, “I’ll forgive the lateness this once, but don’t let it happen again.” 

“Th- thank you…” Martin stutters out in reply. They drift into another awkward pause, before Martin ends it with a rapid “hh’ngxt–nngt–k’nngdt! ngt’shiiew!” 

The last one breaks free, and Martin blushes hard, more apologies tumbling out over each other. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I was trying to catch it but they were a bit fast and it just slipped out-” 

Jon interrupts by clearing his throat again, and looking distinctly not at Martin as he offers, “Nothing to apologize for.” 

Tense silence settles over them again, and Martin’s starting to think maybe being berated isn’t actually all that bad. It certainly beats the hell out of whatever this new dynamic is. 

“So,” Jon starts, Martin nearly jumping out of his skin at the sudden noise. “Back to work then.” 

“Yes, of course,” Martin begins to turn around, before pausing as Jon speaks up again.

“Unless you… need anything?” 

It sounds oddly sincere, and Martin feels confusion spreading across his face. “S- sorry? I don’t… I don’t think so, I’ve got a fair number of cases already to investigate, and I’m sure Tim and Sasha will have some things for me to do too.” 

Jon looks a bit taken aback at this, and Martin feels the panic swell again. Was that the wrong answer? What else could he possibly have meant- 

Before he can spiral too far, Jon seems to collect himself, that unreadable expression settling back over his features. “Indeed, yes. Back to work then, lot to get done, and we’re already behind. Lord knows everyone’s overworked as it is, and Tim will surely complain about our absence.” 

Martin nods cautiously, biting back the urge to apologize again. He’s not even sure what for, there’s just… that sinking feeling that he’s said something wrong. He absentmindedly rubs at his eye, but nearly lets out a groan at the sensation. It’s equal parts relieving and unsatisfying, the itch far too deep to actually scratch. What it does do is spread the tickle back through his nose. 

“Oh-” Martin lets out involuntarily. He barely catches a glimpse of Jon turning back from where he’d begun to walk away through his rapidly watering eyes. Seems they both keep getting pulled back into this interaction, and Martin curses internally. If he’d just kept quiet and rushed away before the fit broke loose- Well, too late now, and he attempts to stutter out, “Sorry I think… thinkI’mgonna– hh’nxt! eh’gnxt! nngt–ed’gnxt–ngt’iew! hihhiieshh’iew!” 

“Good lord, Martin,” Jon says, and Martin suddenly wishes he could sink through the floor. 

He tries to stutter out more apologies, but his breath is stolen by the ever-increasing fit. Rapid, yet tiny, sneezes continue to pile over each other, though the stifling is long forgotten for lieu of being able to get a breath. 

“hh’ieshhiew! ishhhiew! ishhiew! tshhh’iew! ishhh–eshhh–eshhh–eshh’iiew!” 

Jon’s standing in stunned silence, seeming unable to pull his eyes away. Martin can only stand, arm against his face, gasping into his sleeve, waiting for the end of this humiliating display. It, mercifully, comes fairly quickly, a final “heh’iSHHHiew!” seeming to clear out the remainder of the burn. 

The absent tickle still lingers, his eyes watering as the itch still buzzes through them too. At least the fit seems to be over. Jon’s still staring, mouth pulled tight as he surveys the scene. Martin wishes, again, that he could sink through the floor. There’s another silence, Jon seeming to just… watch. 

“I’b so-” Martin starts, before hearing his own congested voice and blushing deeper. Jon seems to notice it too, wincing slightly as Martin attempts to sniff, the noise coming out strained and heavy. There’s another pause before Jon suddenly turns on his heel and hurries away. 

Martin feels the shame begin to sink into him, and he curses again, this time a little more externally. Of course Jon would leave, that was a humiliating display, he can only imagine how disgusted Jon must be with him. It’s so unprofessional, to have a fit like that in front of your boss, Jon would never succumb like that in front of Elias. 

His self loathing is interrupted by a clearing of the throat, Jon standing in front of him almost- nervously? But that doesn’t make any sense, why would he be nervous? Surely it’s gotta be something else, maybe it’s- 

“Here,” Jon says, cutting through the silence. As Martin glances down, he realizes Jon is holding out a box of tissues. He accepts them, a bit hesitantly, utterly speechless. 

Jon seems to notice this, and gives him a slight nod, an attempt at being reassuring. “You seemed to need them. Bless you, by the way.” 

The words seem to be a bit foreign to him, he doesn’t stutter over them or anything of the sort, but they seem to be a conscious effort. Come to think of it, Martin can’t recall ever hearing Jon bless someone. Unlike himself, where it’s a habit so deeply engrained it’s more of a reflex than anything else. 

It does make sense, Jon’s always seemed more the polite yet tightly wound sort. Whenever Martin’s heard him sneeze, which has been quite rare, it’s been obvious he wants no attention drawn to it. Perhaps he assumes others feel the same..? 

Either way it hardly seems to matter, and with a start, Martin realizes he’s been standing here silently for almost a full minute. He gives Jon an appreciative look, pulling out a tissue, folding it, and turning around to lightly blow his nose. For his part, Jon turns away, most likely to give him a bit of privacy. 

After cleaning himself up, Martin throws the tissues in the wastebasket nearby before turning back to Jon. “Thank you, for the uh- tissues and all.” 

Jon stares a bit, before clearing his throat. “Right. Well, again you, uh, seemed to need them.” 

“Yeah,” Martin gives a sheepish smile, “Sorry about that. Just a bit of allergies.” 

“Seems an understatement,” Jon replies, seemingly without thinking. Martin chuckles a bit at the candor.

“I suppose you’re right,” he says with a laugh. That was apparently a bad idea, the vibrations from the laughter leaving him gasping. Jon looks on in what appears to be sympathy as Martin grabs a few more tissues. He just manages to bring them up in time. 

“hh’ishhh! ishhhiew! t’shhhew! tshhh–tshhh–tshhh’ieeww!” 

“Bless you,” Jon says, this time without much hesitation. Martin nods his thanks, grabbing another tissue, and folding it nicely before attending to his nose with it. These he also deposits in the wastebin. 

“Thank you, sorry again,” Martin starts, breaking off with a light cough. It’s not chesty, but it does come with a slight wheeze to his breath. Jon definitely takes notice of this, his face going a bit pale. 

“Are you- are you wheezing?” Jon asks, almost a touch accusatory in his tone. 

Martin blushes slightly, but draws in a deep breath to test it. There’s an audible wheeze, and he finds himself getting caught in another cough. 

“S- sorry,” He sputters out between light coughs, glancing down at the cat hair covering Jon. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry, it happens quite often, I’m just uh… a bit allergic to…” 

Jon follows his gaze, looking over his clothes. A moment passes, then realization dawns across his face and Jon pales a bit further. He gives Martin a look that’s quite clearly concern, before it’s quickly replaced by a glare. 

“Good lord Martin, why didn’t you say something?!” Jon snaps, taking several steps back. 

Martin feels a shiver run through him at the harsh tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-” 

“No, you didn’t,” Jon interrupts, his tone still firm, but with something that still sounds a lot like concern flowing through it. And maybe… guilt? “If I’d known, I’d not have made you stand here, suffocating yourself with an allergen.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Martin tries, his body betraying him with another “ishhh’iew! ishhh–ishhh–t’shhheeww!” 

Jon gives another blessing, his displeasure palpable. Feeling another twinge of guilt, Martin attempts to apologize again, but finds his words stolen by another set of sneezes. “ieshew! tshhiew! hihheshhiew!” 

“Bless you,” Jon says yet again, taking a few more steps back. Even through his slight wheeze, Martin thinks he hears Jon mutter something. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was something about ‘actually being quite adorable’. A smile begins to slip over Martin’s face before he even has time to process the words. 

It’s quickly countered by Jon calling out for Tim. Martin nearly jumps at the volume, coughing again as the jostle brings another light wheeze. 

Turning back to Martin, Jon begins to give instructions. “I’m going to go to my office, I have a change of clothes in there, I’ll switch over to them. Tim will help you, he always has some meds around for his own struggles, I’m sure he can lend you some. You are to sit down, and under no circumstances are you to go back near the kitten. Sasha can find it somewhere nice to stay.”  

Before Martin has a chance to respond, Jon’s rushing down the hall, taking a turn towards Sasha’s desk. Tim comes around the corner at the same time, just barely managing to avoid crashing into Jon. He utters an expletive, but Jon pays it no mind whatsoever, just pointing towards Martin, and saying something Martin can’t make out. 

“Jeez,” Tim calls out as he gets closer. “What’s his deal?” 

“There was a ki-” Martin starts, before stopping himself. Jon hadn’t exactly been advertising that he was in the alley with the kitten, and… much as Tim was a nice guy, he’s not entirely above taunting. Especially if he knows this isn’t something Jon wants people to know about. 

Thankfully he doesn’t have to come up with a new excuse, as the tickle returns with a passion. He simply ducks into another handful of tissues for another set of “hhshhhiew! ishhhieww! t’shhh! kshhhiew!” 

“Woah, bless you,” Tim says, giving Martin a quick once over. “What happened to you?” 

“Nothing,” Martin sighs, with a bit of a wheeze. He attempts to give Tim a reassuring smile. “I’m alright.” 

“Clearly not,” Tim replies. “You’re wheezing and sneezing all over the place. Plus the boss sent me to help, figure that’s not for nothin’.” 

“Just… a bit of a run in with an allergen,” Martin says, coughing against his sleeve. Tim looks sympathetic, they both know he’s had a few of those himself. Even in the time he’d been here, Martin had witnessed a couple of situations when someone brought a bouquet into the archives. 

“Sounds bad,” Tim says, a bit more gently. 

Martin nods, bringing another group of tissues up to his nose. “ishhh! eshhh! kshhh! hhieESHhiew!” 

“Bless you!” 

“Thagk you,” Martin replies, giving Tim a soft smile. He’s interrupted by another fit, this one breaking out rapidly, piling over each other until he feels Tim’s hand on his arm steadying him. 

Tim lets out a low whistle as Martin blows his nose again. “That’s quite the attack. You’re nearly on my level! Right-o, let’s get you medicated, shall we?” 

Martin nods, putting up no resistance as Tim begins to guide (drag) him back to his desk. 

“You know, you have quite the kitten sneeze going on there,” Tim says, looking a bit confused as Martin begins to laugh. “Something funny?” 

“No, no,” Martin replies. “It’s nothing. Thank you for the help.” 

Tim nods at this, giving a wide grin, and going on some tangent about his own allergies, and the last time he had an attack like this. Martin nods along, but finds his thoughts drifting back to Jon, and the words he could almost swear he heard. ‘That was actually adorable’. 

Sasha will surely be told about the kitten by now, but… the details of how Jon found it… well, Martin has a good feeling that’s something only he gets to know. He feels oddly warm at this thought. Even if it wasn’t exactly Jon’s choice to tell him, it’s something they get to share. 

A memory just for them.

[cozzzynook]

the elite trine x bee pls 🙏🫶

- Thundercracker is the easiest to talk to casually. He’s also the first one to pick Bee up after they botnap him and hold him to his chassis while reading old Vosian novels.

-Skywarp is by far the funniest and helped Bee get comfortable by pranking him and enjoying the pranks Bee could pull right back.

- out of them all Bee complained the least about being warped though he had the harshest reaction. His tanks would churn and he’d purge after doing it more than once. So Skywarp only does it during emergencies.

- Starscream is the one who got Bee to open up. It was in private just the two of them gazing at the stars when Bee told him he missed his sire most. That he doesn’t remember his original carrier or sire, far too fresh from emerging to etch their plates to core bitlet memory. That Optimus is the only sire and creator he’s ever known.

- Starscream reveals pieces of his difficult and complicated relationship with his own carrier and that he took care of Skywarp and Thundercracker when they were all younglings.

- Skywarp and Thundercracker get a little jealous seeing how close the two become after their time alone and want in on being close to Bee’s spark like Star. They’re surprised when Star tells them as trine leader to let Bee open up at his own pace. Let it be natural.

- oddly Skywarp is next and its Skywarp getting comfort from Bee after an injury do they connect a little deeper. Skywarp doesn’t want to be separated from his family again and Bee tells him other than Optimus he doesn’t really have a family, not above the surface anyway. He’s friends with the bots on the ark, everyone - even Prowl, but he’s not close with them. They may tell him things but he doesn’t share anything of himself. Skywarp wants to ask so badly of Bee to tell him something, anything. But he wills himself quiet and Bee reveals he finds he likes holding Skywarp like this.

- skywarp flutters his wings as he buries his helm further in Bee’s lap. For the rest of seven cycles he flutters his wings happily.

-thundercracker is all but feel left out and ready to share his feelings with Bee when the mini comes and sets himself upon Thundercrackers lap with a warm blanket. Curling himself into a small ball and falling asleep like he owned the spot. He may not have gotten words of the past or tender touches like Star and Sky but he was Bee’s safe spot to rest and for that he was happy.

Just them all healing in every cycle ways they didn’t know they needed.

When Bee is found he isn’t in a hurry to go back just yet and makes up a story on them being able to set up neutral ground. The trine goes along with it because, hey they want peace believe it or not and it means more time with their future conjunx so they don’t complain.

They just fear for their sparks when Optimus comes after them with the spark fire of a sire missing their bitlet.

Bee is so oblivious to how terrifying Optimus looks as he hugs him.

As always free 🇸🇩🇵🇸🇨🇩🇭🇹🇾🇪

[deyisacherry]

3 steps for a love confession — DCA x Y/N

First step, analyze their feelings for you. Done.

Second step, accept them. Done. Hardly.

Third step…

Confess.

There you were, sitting behind the desk. The kids had recently left, the Pizzaplex hadn't closed yet.

Good, great, wonderful. They have time.

Sun had excused himself to you, saying that he had to tidy up some things in his room. Of course… walking around the site, accustomed to nimbly dodging the pile of things lying on the floor, was the complete opposite of that.

Thank the stars that he and Moon can communicate internally, or his incessant nervous chatter would have been noticed by you a long time ago.

"How is someone supposed to confess their feelings? What are we supposed to do? You know how bad I am at telling the truth, I'll just say something stupid to avoid it and ruin it, I'm sure. Very sure!" Sun paced back and forth, his beams spinning as he tried to think. Poor thing, anyone who saw him from the outside could tell that he had gone crazy. He even moved his hands in expressive gestures as he communicated with Moon.

"Staying up here, not talking to them, probably not much will happen if we keep doing this."

"Moon! I'm serious! I'm not good at this, and you- neither are you!"

"Rude."

"You know what I mean."

"So cruel."

"Moon."

"I know, I'm just playing."

Sun sighs, stopping his pacing. "Maybe a letter? They're nice, and personal, and… oh, no, no, I'm going to get carried away and probably make them feel uncomfortable, plus I don't have self-control with details, and drawings, and glitter glue-" Sun he lets out an exasperated groan in his mind space, causing Moon to growl. "Why is this so difficult?!"

"Noisy."

"Please be of more help, you also want them to know how we feel." Sun says, with a tired expression.

"Flirt until they find out?"

"Oh, please…" Sun says annoyed, placing a hand on his forehead in disappointment.

"Hey, it's not even that terrible." Moon defends himself against his reaction. "You don't have to be too obvious… just play around."

"It's easy for you to say, you always do…"

"Not like this…"

Sun is silent for a few seconds, and then groans softly knowing that he is accepting his proposal.

"I guess we can try." He crosses his arms, looking down at the Daycare through his balcony.

"I have an idea."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"… Should I trust you?"

"Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn't." Moon responds, with a very soft laugh.

Sun has a feeling that he's going to regret it.

———

When the crepe paper rose is ready, Sun holds it in one hand, while the other one holds a piece of sticky tape.

"… This is goofy… even for me."

"If you don't try, you'll never know."

"Don't apply my sayings to me!"

"Just do it."

Sun complains silently, and begins with the last step of Moon's idea. Best scenario, it really works. Worst scenario… he'll resign himself to letting you see him and will stay in his room forever.

"… I'll blame you if anything happens."

———

There's at least an hour left before the Pizzaplex closes its doors. You are reviewing some messages that you forgot to reply to. Yep… it was definitely a good idea to have disabled the option to show when you read a message. It saves you from the idea that they will hate you for losing social energy mid-conversation and leaving them on seen.

You're in the middle of drinking some coffee you ordered, when you feel Sun approaching. You usually let him talk or do something, so you don't turn to look at him. But he doesn't do anything, so oddly enough, you look away from the screen to where you know he is.

And you're immediately greeted by the sight of Sun, with a paper rose taped to his smile. His eyes narrow with excitement as he leans across the desk. "Hello, Sunshine~"

A wink from him, and- Oop.

You just choked on your coffee from how badly that caught you off guard, coughing and covering your mouth as you look away in panic.

"Oh no, no, no! Sunshine! Sorry! Sorry! Bad timing for that! I'm really sorry!" Sun tries to get his hands closer to you but he doesn't know how to help, and seeing him with the rose still stuck to his mouth doesn't help your coughing stop.

———

"I knew it was a bad idea! I knew it! I knew it! And you knew it! You wanted to make fun of me!" Sun yells into his headspace, pressing a Freddy stuffed plushie against his face.

"But the flirting worked, they were blushing and embarrassed."

"They weren't blushing nor embarrassed! They were choking!"

"… Isn't that how embarrassed people react to something like that?"

"Moon!"

… The third step will have to be postponed.

---

edit: god dang it i just realized i made some mistakes with the font color AAA