#and once you stop doing any of this for even a second. you cannot ever go back to doing it. even the lower-prestige bits that don't totally

[unopenablebox]

new sources of guilt for today:

fell asleep on the couch last night, could not be woken up enough to move, slept on couch for most of night before eventually regaining consciousness and going to bed

because set alarm in context of above, did not remember that i was going to need to get up with or before 🌸 in order to buy milk; accordingly 🌸 bought milk

allowed my dad’s insane thing about vacations to actually come out of my stupid mouth, have probably defused but will maybe have to re-defuse again later, 🌸 took it gracefully but jesus fucking christ

it’s not like i needed another reason to add to the list of reasons that it’s intrinsically impossible for me to stop doing this job but i’m pretty sure i’m hanging on to 🌸’s parents’ tolerance primarily through an adequate display of aspiration to upward mobility and quitting my phd would really bring my, um, solidly middle-class doesn’t-know-about-financial-instruments uncouth jewish executive dysfunction qualities back into the foreground

[yesornopolls]

The article is under the cut because paywalls suck

This is an edited transcript of an audio essay on “The Ezra Klein Show.” You can listen to the conversation by following or subscribing to the show on the NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts.

If you want to understand the first few weeks of the second Trump administration, you should listen to what Steve Bannon told PBS’s “Frontline” in 2019:

Steve Bannon: The opposition party is the media. And the media can only, because they’re dumb and they’re lazy, they can only focus on one thing at a time. … All we have to do is flood the zone. Every day we hit them with three things. They’ll bite on one, and we’ll get all of our stuff done. Bang, bang, bang. These guys will never — will never be able to recover. But we’ve got to start with muzzle velocity. So it’s got to start, and it’s got to hammer, and it’s got to — Michael Kirk: What was the word? Bannon: Muzzle velocity.

Muzzle velocity. Bannon’s insight here is real. Focus is the fundamental substance of democracy. It is particularly the substance of opposition. People largely learn of what the government is doing through the media — be it mainstream media or social media. If you overwhelm the media — if you give it too many places it needs to look, all at once, if you keep it moving from one thing to the next — no coherent opposition can emerge. It is hard to even think coherently.

Donald Trump’s first two weeks in the White House have followed Bannon’s strategy like a script. The flood is the point. The overwhelm is the point. The message wasn’t in any one executive order or announcement. It was in the cumulative effect of all of them. The sense that this is Trump’s country now. This is his government now. It follows his will. It does what he wants. If Trump tells the state to stop spending money, the money stops. If he says that birthright citizenship is over, it’s over.

Or so he wants you to think. In Trump’s first term, we were told: Don’t normalize him. In his second, the task is different: Don’t believe him.

Trump knows the power of marketing. If you make people believe something is true, you make it likelier that it becomes true. Trump clawed his way back to great wealth by playing a fearsome billionaire on TV; he remade himself as a winner by refusing to admit he had ever lost. The American presidency is a limited office. But Trump has never wanted to be president, at least not as defined in Article II of the U.S. Constitution. He has always wanted to be king. His plan this time is to first play king on TV. If we believe he is already king, we will be likelier to let him govern as a king.

Don’t believe him. Trump has real powers — but they are the powers of the presidency. The pardon power is vast and unrestricted, and so he could pardon the Jan. 6 rioters. Federal security protection is under the discretion of the executive branch, and so he could remove it from Anthony Fauci and Mike Pompeo and John Bolton and Mark Milley and even Brian Hook, a largely unknown former State Department official under threat from Iran who donated time to Trump’s transition team. It was an act of astonishing cruelty and callousness from a man who nearly died by an assassin’s bullet — as much as anything ever has been, this, to me, was an X-ray of the smallness of Trump’s soul — but it was an act that was within his power.

But the president cannot rewrite the Constitution. Within days, the birthright citizenship order was frozen by a judge — a Reagan appointee — who told Trump’s lawyers, “I have difficulty understanding how a member of the bar would state unequivocally that this is a constitutional order. It just boggles my mind.” A judge froze the spending freeze before it was even scheduled to go into effect, and shortly thereafter, the Trump administration rescinded the order, in part to avoid the court case.

What Bannon wanted — what the Trump administration wants — is to keep everything moving fast. Muzzle velocity, remember. If you’re always consumed by the next outrage, you can’t look closely at the last one. The impression of Trump’s power remains; the fact that he keeps stepping on rakes is missed. The projection of strength obscures the reality of weakness. Don’t believe him.

You could see this a few ways: Is Trump playing a part, making a bet or triggering a crisis? Those are the options. I am not certain he knows the answer. Trump has always been an improviser. But if you take it as calculated, here is the calculation: Perhaps this Supreme Court, stocked with his appointees, gives him powers no peacetime president has ever possessed. Perhaps all of this becomes legal now that he has asserted its legality. It is not impossible to imagine that bet paying off.

But Trump’s odds are bad. So what if the bet fails and his arrogations of power are soundly rejected by the courts? Then comes the question of constitutional crisis: Does he ignore the court’s ruling? To do that would be to attempt a coup. I wonder if they have the stomach for it. The withdrawal of the Office of Management and Budget’s order to freeze spending suggests they don’t. Bravado aside, Trump’s political capital is thin. Both in his first and second terms, he has entered office with approval ratings below that of any president in the modern era. Gallup has Trump’s approval rating at 47 percent — about 10 points beneath Joe Biden’s in January 2021.

There is a reason Trump is doing all of this through executive orders rather than submitting these same directives as legislation to pass through Congress. A more powerful executive could persuade Congress to eliminate the spending he opposes or reform the civil service to give himself the powers of hiring and firing that he seeks. To write these changes into legislation would make them more durable and allow him to argue their merits in a more strategic way. Even if Trump’s aim is to bring the civil service to heel — to rid it of his opponents and turn it to his own ends — he would be better off arguing that he is simply trying to bring the high-performance management culture of Silicon Valley to the federal government. You never want a power grab to look like a power grab.

But Republicans have a three-seat edge in the House and a 53-seat majority in the Senate. Trump has done nothing to reach out to Democrats. If Trump tried to pass this agenda as legislation, it would most likely fail in the House, and it would certainly die before the filibuster in the Senate. And that would make Trump look weak. Trump does not want to look weak. He remembers John McCain humiliating him in his first term by casting the deciding vote against Obamacare repeal.

That is the tension at the heart of Trump’s whole strategy: Trump is acting like a king because he is too weak to govern like a president. He is trying to substitute perception for reality. He is hoping that perception then becomes reality. That can only happen if we believe him.

The flurry of activity is meant to suggest the existence of a plan. The Trump team wants it known that they’re ready this time. They will control events rather than be controlled by them. The closer you look, the less true that seems. They are scrambling and flailing already. They are leaking against one another already. We’ve learned, already, that the O.M.B. directive was drafted, reportedly, without the input or oversight of key Trump officials — “it didn’t go through the proper approval process,” an administration official told The Washington Post. For this to be the process and product of a signature initiative in the second week of a president’s second term is embarrassing.

But it’s not just the O.M.B. directive. The Trump administration is waging an immediate war on the bureaucracy, trying to replace the “deep state” it believes hampered it in the first term. A big part of this project seems to have been outsourced to Elon Musk, who is bringing the tactics he used at Twitter to the federal government. He has longtime aides at the Office of Personnel Management, and the email sent to nearly all federal employees even reused the subject line of the email he sent to Twitter employees: “Fork in the Road.” Musk wants you to know it was him.

The email offers millions of civil servants a backdoor buyout: Agree to resign and in theory, at least, you can collect your paycheck and benefits until the end of September without doing any work. The Department of Government Efficiency account on X described it this way: “Take the vacation you always wanted, or just watch movies and chill, while receiving your full government pay and benefits.” The Washington Post reported that the email “blindsided” many in the Trump administration who would normally have consulted on a notice like that.

I suspect Musk thinks of the federal work force as a huge mass of woke ideologues. But most federal workers have very little to do with politics. About 16 percent of the federal work force is in health care. These are, for instance, nurses and doctors who work for the Veterans Affairs department. How many of them does Musk want to lose? What plans does the V.A. have for attracting and training their replacements? How quickly can he do it?

The Social Security Administration has more than 59,000 employees. Does Musk know which ones are essential to operations and unusually difficult to replace? One likely outcome of this scheme is that a lot of talented people who work in nonpolitical jobs and could make more elsewhere take the lengthy vacation and leave government services in tatters. Twitter worked poorly after Musk’s takeover, with more frequent outages and bugs, but its outages are not a national scandal. When V.A. health care degrades, it is. To have sprung this attack on the civil service so loudly and publicly and brazenly is to be assured of the blame if anything goes wrong.

What Trump wants you to see in all this activity is command. What is really in all this activity is chaos. They do not have some secret reservoir of focus and attention the rest of us do not. They have convinced themselves that speed and force is a strategy unto itself — that it is, in a sense, a replacement for a real strategy. Don’t believe them.

I had a conversation a couple months ago with someone who knows how the federal government works about as well as anyone alive. I asked him what would worry him most if he saw Trump doing it. What he told me is that he would worry most if Trump went slowly. If he began his term by doing things that made him more popular and made his opposition weaker and more confused. If he tried to build strength for the midterms while slowly expanding his powers and chipping away at the deep state where it was weakest.

But he didn’t. And so the opposition to Trump, which seemed so listless after the election, is beginning to rouse itself.

There is a subreddit for federal employees where one of the top posts reads: “This non ‘buyout’ really seems to have backfired. I’ll be honest, before that email went out, I was looking for any way to get out of this fresh hell. But now I am fired up to make these goons as frustrated as possible.” As I write this, it’s been upvoted more than 39,000 times and civil servant after civil servant is echoing the initial sentiment.

In Iowa this week, Democrats flipped a State Senate seat in a district that Trump won easily in 2024. The attempted spending freeze gave Democrats their voice back, as they zeroed in on the popular programs Trump had imperiled. Trump isn’t building support; he’s losing it. Trump isn’t fracturing his opposition; he’s uniting it.

This is the weakness of the strategy that Bannon proposed and Trump is following. It is a strategy that forces you into overreach. To keep the zone flooded, you have to keep acting, keep moving, keep creating new cycles of outrage or fear. You overwhelm yourself. And there’s only so much you can do through executive orders. Soon enough, you have to go beyond what you can actually do. And when you do that, you either trigger a constitutional crisis or you reveal your own weakness.

Trump may not see his own fork in the road coming. He may believe he has the power he is claiming. That would be a mistake on his part — a self-deception that could doom his presidency. But the real threat is if he persuades the rest of us to believe he has power he does not have.

The first two weeks of Trump’s presidency have not shown his strength. He is trying to overwhelm you. He is trying to keep you off-balance. He is trying to persuade you of something that isn’t true. Don’t believe him.

You can listen to this conversation by following “The Ezra Klein Show” on NYT Audio App, Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, YouTube, iHeartRadio or wherever you get your podcasts. View a list of book recommendations from our guests here.

[clovernoir]

I am gonna be mad about that for a long while

[saetiate]

FORSAKEN BY ALL THE GODS.

info: prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, fantasy au, arranged marriage, eventual smut. afab reader w she/her pronouns. reader has an established backstory and is not weak, reader’s appearance is nondescript. reader calls him “mihya” as they get closer. oliver and karasu are bffs in this lol. maybe some angst if you squint. happy ending!! plot is balanced with comedic moments. 

synopsis: You will be killed by the one you love most. That line from his prophecy has haunted Kaiser his whole life. Against it all, you stand before him. Will you be the one to rewrite fate itself?

word count: 14k (please don’t let this scare you, i promise my writing is efficient) 

a/n: this might be my magnum opus, i promise i poured my best dialogue and writing into this and it shows. if you consider reading like so seriously i will love you forever. also the smut is huge just like his cock <3 or my heart. ao3 link

Kaiser has been forsaken thrice fold. First, by his parents. His mother is said to be a beautiful woman that captured the hearts of all. His father could not bear her ultimate betrayal: leaving, causing him to wither away to nothing.

Kaiser guesses that this aspect of her runs in his blood after all.

The second and third time he is forsaken happen at once.

On the night that Kaiser is, by royal decree, anointed successor to the throne, he does as tradition dictates. He approaches the golden temple at the top of a mountain and mirrors the prophet within, sitting cross-legged in front of them.

The prophet gazes into the distance. And then, like a man possessed, they speak.

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will be killed by the one you love most.

Kaiser swears he feels even his heart stop at that. Cold rushes through him, the chill of it colder than anything he had felt at the front lines of war.

Forsaken by all the Gods —

The prophet stops, staring into the distance with a frown.

The silence is deafening. Noa, despite tradition, interrupts the ceremony and approaches the prophet, clicking his fingers in front of their face.

“The prophecy?”

The prophet’s eyes widen with fear. “I- I cannot.”

“What, are you afraid?” Kaiser scoffs. “The prophecy is bad as it is, it can’t get much worse than that.”

“No, I mean I cannot. The — the Fates! They’ve stopped speaking to me!”

“Excuse me?” Kaiser’s scowl is evident, and Noa swears that in any other situation, Kaiser would’ve moved for his sword and set his blade ablaze.

It speaks volumes that all he does is stare right at the prophet, fear barely contained in his eyes.

The prophet grips at Noa’s hand, forcing his gaze. “My lord, please believe me. This — in the history... it has never happened before. I swear it.”

Noa whistles, and the guards outside come rushing in. “Seize them,” he commands, and they stare at each other for a moment.

To seize and capture that  which is considered holy? Is that not blasphemy?

Noa cares little, almost removing his sword from his sheath to do it himself. “What are you all waiting for?”

“My lord! I swear to you!” The prophet grapples towards Noa in spite of their hands being held behind their back, the guards barely catching them from falling to their knees. “The fact that I would admit this at all shows my loyalty to you!” The prophet gasps, breath coming fast.” I could have pretended, could have given a false prophecy. I did not. That’s the choice I made. That is all the proof you need.”

It’s convincing enough that Noa hesitates, taking a deep breath in. But he sees in the corner of his eye Kaiser’s state, sitting in the kind of stillness that you see before a battle, bent over at the bottom of the altar. 

At that sight, Noa makes a single motion with his hand for the prophet to be taken away.

The room clears.

“Kaiser, I —” 

Whatever comforting remark Noa might have made dies in his throat, because Kaiser laughs, a bitter and broken sound, that he would in the future rarely have his walls down to ever reveal again. He hides his eyes behind his hand and he laughs.

“Of course, my prophecy would come to something like this.” He drags his hand down across his face. “Forsaken by all the Gods.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Noa says it with conviction, and it’s enough for Kaiser to face him.

“Master?”

“You will still be the successor to the throne. As is your destiny.”

“My destiny?” Kaiser jabs a thumb to the now-empty seating. “We just heard my destiny.”

“What the gods have declared has nothing to do with me. I declare you the next to rule. That is all.”

Noa presses a hand to the crown of Kaiser’s head. “No one will know what transpired here. A tragic prophecy is a given. It is meant to be a trial of sorts, after all. Mine, too, was unpleasant. Though not nearly as dire.”

“What was yours?”

Noa breathes in deeply. “A twisted rivalry with a twisted man. One that was to be all-consuming to me.”

Kaiser scoffs. “A rivalry. Just train and win.”

Noa lets the comment pass, staring out of the temple and past the mountains. “The rivalry came and went. At the time, I felt it was the worst. I could not eat, sleep, or breathe without the thought of what he would do next on my mind. But I was lucky, that it passed.”

He motions for Kaiser to take his arm, bringing him back up to standing. “Yours will pass too, I’m sure of it.”

Kaiser waves his hand, gesturing at Noa to let go of him. It’s easy to say, easy to have faith when it is not your life that balances on the precipice.

Forsaken thrice: once, by his parents. Another, by the Gods. And third, by his own future lover. Kaiser curses the Gods and the Weaver for such a fate, for something possibly worse than death is looming over him.

You will be killed by the one you love most. That line has haunted his very being to this day.

~

The people do not know what causes their successor to turn so cold, as biting and harsh as winter itself. His quicksilver smile rattles bones, his sword is cutting like blood in snow.

The prophecy is on a need-to-know basis, and Kaiser has never been crueler. He trains, harder than ever. Enough that when an unmovable sword is found at the rocks of the ocean, he trains until he is able to pull it from the bank, wield it with one hand. Rumor has said it might take three men to carry, or that the night sky that shimmers across it is strong enough to kill even a god. His sole retrieval of it is proof to the people of his strength and stature, but compassion and love are rarely a topic of conversation with his name.  

He focuses on his work. He does not take lovers. He barely sees others as friends. And he most certainly does not take a bride.

~

You appear before the throne and you do not bow. The scowl on Kaiser’s face at this says enough.

“You dare-”

“You have the sword.” You ignore Kaiser entirely, setting your sights completely on Noa.

The silence that follows is as large and wide as the ocean, but your gaze is sharp and keen, never faltering once until Noa speaks.

“Water sorceress,” Noa addresses you coldly, “or that’s what you told our people.”

“Yes.”

“You are not the only sorceress of water. Yet your power is second to none.” Noa stands, stepping down the stairs with heavy, thumping footfalls until he’s standing right in front of you. “They call you the water’s mistress, in the neighboring lands.”

“They do.”

He begins to circle you, like a hunter might before striking a deer. Standing next to you, his deep voice clear right next to your ear, he eyes you curiously. “They’re all wrong, aren’t they?”

You don’t answer. Noa takes that as answer enough.

“A power like that. Do you think me stupid?” He observes you, checks you visually for weapons, watches your hands to ensure you don’t call magic forth.

“Demigod.” He about spits the word from behind you, and yet all you do is tilt your head to catch him in your eye’s view.

“You are as well-informed as they say.”

“I am as logical as they come.”

“We are the same in that regard, then. So let’s get straight to the point.” 

Noa returns back to the throne, seemingly satisfied with his observing, gesturing at you to continue. 

“You have something belonging to me. A sword, heavier than most. Ancient, yet sharp. It is said to look like it contains a night sky.”

“The blade you’re speaking of was found by us, it is ours to keep.”

In the short silence that follows, Kaiser swears there must be irritation on your end, but you don’t show it. Instead, you take a deep breath in.

“The blade was thrown out of the heavens and spat out into this realm during a war between Gods.”

“Is that so? And how can you prove it’s yours?”

“I can wield it, unlike your people, who do not have the means to wield a sword as such.” You state simply.

Like rose grown blue, the impossible becomes possible. You can feel the divinity and the power that comes off the sword in waves the minute it’s unsheathed, your eyes widening. The ring of it is as familiar to you as your own skin, how could you not have felt its presence sooner? But Kaiser is fast, much faster than you expected, faster than he should be with a sword of that weight, that magnitude. Before you can turn your head, cold silver kisses your neck.

“This blade, sorceress?” He comes around from behind you, stalks around you just like his Master had, sword pointed like it may just draw blood from you at any moment. When you finally see his face, his sneer is wicked.

He takes pride in your wide-eyed gaze, your sharpened attention, but the lack of fear on your part grates at him. God-killing, they had called the blade. Yet you don’t shy away at all.

“Say we return the sword to its rightful owner,” Noa calls back your attention, “what would you offer us in return?”

“Offer in return? This sword does not belong to you. It is returned, as it should be.”

“This sword, with its divinity, could harm even a god.” Kaiser presses the blade closer to your neck, gleaming metal against your skin. “It protects this nation. What if the gods forsake us? If we return it to you, what would protect us against them then?”

“For what reason would they do such a thing?”

Kaiser barks a laugh. “Of course, there would be no criticisms from one of them. Water sorceress, demigod. Tell us, who are you, truly? What do your people call you, up there? No matter.” He lowers the sword, but leaves it unsheathed, its heavy weight balanced in his palm. A threat that at any moment, he may change his mind. “Those titles mean nothing to me. I have been forsaken, demigod. So know, I trust not even the gods.”

You sigh. Foreseeing a troublesome future has its cons, you suppose. Your queen would smile if you told her such.

“You ask for something with power in equal to or more than the blade. You asked me for my titles. I shall give you both.” The sleeves of your dress shimmer as you move them, and it’s in this moment that Kaiser notices they are not sleeves but water itself, cradled around your wrists like armor. “The Gods had bestowed on me the title Sword Maiden, and I offer myself and my services to you until the end of your line.”

That shocks the room like a bucket of cold water.

You turn to Kaiser, who stands beside the throne. You step forward once, and water rushes underneath that step, descending in waves over the floor as if it goes through it, a magic they have never witnessed prior. “You say the Gods have forsaken you? Let my presence be proof to you that they still watch over you.”

Kaiser scowls, “What sort of cheap trick is this?”

“My domain is truth. I cannot lie.”

“Oh, please.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “Would it help for you to press your sword against my neck once more?”

A goddess who cannot lie. Noa’s faith lies in logic, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His gaze flits between Kaiser and you before he seems to settle a decision in his mind.

“Until the end of Kaiser’s line.” Noa negotiates.

Kaiser’s gaze snaps to Noa. “You’re taking her up on this?”

You almost frown. “Fine.”

Noa quirks an eyebrow at you. “That simple?”

“Human lives move quickly.”

Kaiser eyes you curiously. “What happens when you lie?”

You blink at him. Once. Twice. Is that… almost a flustered look you have on?

He readjusts his grip on the blade. “Speak, sorceress.”

“Wh-What do you want me to say?!” You grip at your dress nervously, and that has him even more curious.

“I’m waiting here,” he sing-songs playfully.

“Before the lie can leave my voice, my neck swells up like a balloon, and chokes me.”

He smiles wickedly. “Demonstrate.”

Gods, if it wasn’t immoral, you could wring his neck right now.

You think, for even a moment, a simple lie. And in seconds, you’re almost suffocating on nothing, and Kaiser laughs. Laughs. A full laugh, bending at his knees.

“Oh gods, you’re like a pufferfish!”

You let go of the lie, taking heaving breaths. “Just because I have water capabilities does not mean I am a fish.”

In the midst of the conversation, Isagi leans against Noa’s side, a soft conversation full of worry.

“You’ll have to explain her presence to the council,” Isagi tells him, blue eyes wide with hesitation.

“Right, and your suggestion?”

“I have thought about it, considerably. If you say you hired her, with a force as powerful as her, the other nations may think you are to wage war. So… Given the heir’s… reputation,” Isagi’s gaze flits nervously between you and Kaiser. “If he is willing, she may be a good fit.”

Noa sighs. This, this exact theory, has been a conversation with the other members of his team for months. That a wife by his side would make him seem less chilling, make the transition to a new heir easier on the public, prevent outroar. It is one thing to feel that Kaiser keeps a nation safe, and another to love him as a ruler.

It’s an easy decision, but a hard conversation.

“Kaiser.”

He whips around, ceasing his antics quickly. “Master.”

Noa looks like he is about to say something to him, but hesitates, turning to you instead. Isagi nervously steps away from the dais, returning to his position.

“Goddess,” this time, there is no malice behind Noa’s words. “I accept your offer. However, your presence in this nation and in this castle must be explained appropriately. Should I bear you the title of my successor’s betrothed, would that be a title you’re willing to bear?”

Kaiser’s back straightens. “Excuse me?” he utters low.

“You do not have to bear children,” he specifies. “And you do not have to truly be wed.”

A goddess, to be betrothed to a mortal, as princely as he is, is a serious affair. Kaiser slides his gaze to Isagi, with the audacity to even suggest such. And yet, you seem to ponder it like a simple question.

“I see. As long as the sword is in my presence and protection, how you communicate with your nation is none of my concern.”

“So be it, then,” Noa agrees quickly. “I’ll have our people show you to a room.”

You nod, and are whisked away. The throne room, as if knowingly, empties quickly, guards rushing out to leave Kaiser alone with Noa.

“You made this decision for me,” Kaiser spins to face Noa, spits his words through gritted teeth. “I have been clear. I will take no brides.”

“You believe the prophecy made a choice for you.”       

“The prophecy bears no mercy. Or do you wish for my death so eagerly? If so, take your sword out and do it your damn self.”

Noa lets him speak, heave his words out until there’s silence once more.

“She cannot lie,” Noa says softly. “She cannot lie to you, Kaiser. And she is a goddess, a divine being.”

“Demigod,” Kaiser corrects.

“She is divine, and she cannot lie. She is correct, to this end – that as long as she is here, the prophecy cannot come to be. For she has not forsaken us.” Forsaken you, goes unspoken. “She could be good for you, if you allowed her to be.”

Kaiser lets out a canned laugh. “Ha. How can the divine ever understand us?”

Noa stands. “You’ll have plenty of time to find out.”

Kaiser taps his hand against his sword hilt. “You really will not move on this?”

Noa shakes his head. “She is too valuable to lose, and you have a reputation for cruelty. The solution is nothing short of perfect.”

The logical comes above his feelings. Kaiser knows this, even if he hates to come face to face with it.

Noa walks out of the throne room, leaving Kaiser to his bitterness.

“Shitty master,” he mumbles under his breath to no one.

~

It’s jarring to all the guards, the way you don’t even stand let alone bow when Noa knocks to enter your room. But Noa cares little for things like that, if you’re truly offering what you’ve said.

“Perhaps I was too hasty, in presenting the solution before giving you the facts.” He hesitates before you in the reflection of your vanity. You don’t respond, barely even look at him as you unclasp your jewelry, laying it on the table.

“He will not love you.” Noa tells you after a breath, his surefire eyes finally meeting yours.

You give him a curious gaze. “That is likely for the best. I would outlive him, after all.”

“It is, truly, on a need-to-know basis. To tell you this-”

“The prophecy, I presume you’re referring to,” you interrupt, turning to face him.

The shock rolls quickly off him. Divinity does have its mysteries, he supposes. “You already know.”

“I asked the water, why he is so quick to believe he is forsaken. They told me that he lives under the burden of a prophetic trial. That is all I know.” You stand, moving to unzip your dress only for Noa to hastily pull a partition screen across the room and turn around.

“The water, it speaks to you?”

“It does. Though it’s worth noting that it does not make me all-seeing.” Your voice carries over the partition with the ruffle of clothing. “The queen of the Gods, who sees all fates – she is the only one who is truly all-seeing.”

You come out in a nightgown, folding the partition back. He chucks you a robe that you catch easily.

“You should learn the ways of this world if you want to pass as a simple water sorceress, especially before the banquet.”

You frown. “The prince is my betrothed, is he not? Will he not handle it all?”

The idea you present sparks in Noa’s mind. “Brilliant. I’ll have Kaiser and some of the other members of our team show you the ropes. Good night, sorceress.”

You nod to him, and the door clicks shut.

~

“She’s a what?”

Oliver slams his metal cup of beer down, rolling the dice once more.

“A demigod, Oliver. Gods, are you that drunk already? Keep up.” Karasu grabs at the dice as Oliver moves his pieces.

“Can you all shut the fuck up? What happened to need-to-know basis?” Chigiri slinks himself over to their table.

“We’re need-to-know.” Karasu jabs a thumb at himself and Oliver.

“They are, actually, need-to-know.” Isagi puts a gentle hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, settling down next to him. “Because she’s never been human in her life.”

“And now we’re supposed to, what, teach her to be human? Is that a thing we can do?” Chigiri twirls a strand of hair between his fingers, tapping the end against Isagi’s cheek.

Oliver snorts. “What, like a class? Some of us have never sat in one of those, you prissy little shits.”

“She can’t dance, for one.”

“Get Kaiser to teach her. Isn’t he her betrothed?”

That has Oliver almost spitting out his drink, choking on it in coughs. “He's her what?”

Chigiri scowls in his direction. “Dude, are you listening at all?”

“If she’s really his betrothed, none of us should be teaching her.” Oliver warns genuinely. “He’ll cut down everyone here, before he lets us touch her.”

“It’s just an excuse,” Isagi waves his hand, pulling out a leather-bound bind of notes. “They’re not actually together.”

“Oh, you actually got that motion to pass. Shit.” Karasu remarks admirably.

“It must be so tiring,” Bachira sighs happily, falling into place next to Isagi, “to have to actually care about what other people think.”

“The optics, Bachira,” Isagi smacks the end of his pen across Bachira’s nose, and he makes an oh! sound in response.

When Kaiser walks in, the room almost goes silent. He’s used to it, of course. Hearing only the way his footfalls come heavy, boots thumping into the stone floor as a drink is placed right in front of him immediately.

The room slowly fills back with noise as he shoulders off his coat, wrapping it around the chair before sitting. But only his table is still strangely silent.

He flits his gaze over the group. Usually, they’re the first to kill the silence in the room, yelling about the game or a duel. He looks at Isagi, specifically, who seems the most nervous. “Something you wanna say to me?”

“Uh…”

Chigiri sighs, killing the tension. “We’re deciding who gets to teach her how to dance.”

Kaiser quirks an eyebrow. “The demigod?”

Chigiri nods, and Kaiser takes a long gulp of his drink, popping it back down and twirling the top of it with his fingers. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” It’s Isagi’s turn to be shocked, sitting up straight.

Kaiser exhales audibly. “None of you could handle her. She could cut you with water the moment you accidentally step on her.”

It’s not an insult, really. They know this too. That this is Kaiser’s brand of protection, to add insult to injury just to keep others out of harm’s way. But they play his game.

“Think we can’t dodge fast enough? A bit demeaning, don’t you think?” Oliver’s grin is wicked, making straight eye contact with Kaiser, who only draws his eyebrows in at his direction.

“You think that god-killing sword is gonna save you?” Karasu asks.

“I don’t have the sword anymore.”

“What?”

It stings more than it should, he thinks. The sword that he thought chose only him, so quickly released from his grasp. But his strength is his own, he holds fast to that. 

Kaiser glances at Karasu. “Those are the terms. She marries me, she gets the sword.”

Ness rests his cheek on his hand. “Man, that sounds like she wins twice.”

Chigiri scoffs at that. “She’s a demigod. Being down here is probably like being in the sewers to her.”

Kaiser stands abruptly, pushing his drink aside, his coat billowing as he wraps it over himself once more.

“Where are you going?” Isagi yells, but he doesn’t answer.

“He gone for real?” Oliver elbows Karasu. “I’m too drunk to tell.”

“Yeah, man. He’s gone”  

“Great.” Oliver slaps a piece down. “I’ll bet 50 bucks right now they get married for real.”

“What the fuck?” Chigiri tilts his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it might give him some reprieve.

Karasu laughs, “Okay, I’ll play. I’ll bet 20 that they try to kill each other.”

“You’re just a hater.”

“Nah, I agree,” Reo leans back in the booth. “Kaiser’s a lot of things, but a loving husband is a bit much.”

“She’s a goddess. He’s literally already betrothed to her.” Oliver takes another swig. “Y’all ain’t gonna marry a goddess if she was given to you? Damn, put me in his place, I’ll do it right now.”

~

Kaiser trains, every morning, from sunrise to noon.

You only know because most of the rooms in the palace outlook to a self-contained field. You see him, often, because of this, even if he doesn’t speak to you. As you walk down the corridor, in your classes with Isagi about the current climate of the nations.

“It is useless for me to learn this,” you tell him. “In a few short millennia, the border of the nations will undoubtedly change. And we will have to relearn it all again. What is the use? Why war at all over something so insignificant? Just have a conversation about it.”

Isagi makes a pointed, bored expression at you for this, and then pretends like you didn’t say anything at all.  

At the end of class today, you press your elbows to the open windowsill.

Kaiser is there, sparring with Ness. Ness is quick, agile, fleet-footed and runs circles around Kaiser so much so that it almost makes it difficult to keep up.  

Kaiser approaches him at bone-breaking momentum, launches strike after hardened strike. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around the bottom of his torso, and his body is streaked with sweat. He’s strong, clearly. Broad shoulders clear now from when they were hidden under layers of clothing the first time you met him, the muscles in his arms flexing and relaxing with each step of the friendly duel, hair dipped in saltwater blue.

You know what he looks like, now. You get a sense why Fate brings you here.

He looks like a hero.

The kind that Gods covet, watch from their merry clouds. It’s no wonder that he’s burdened by a prophetic trial, with a face as cutting as his sword, his hair framing his face and flowing. 

He takes one look to the side of him and his eyes find yours immediately. It must be some sort of fighter’s sense, you think. For him to have done it so easily.

You give him the space you think he might be asking for. You turn away.

~

He approaches you one night, just before sunset. Karasu had just finished an etiquette lesson with you, setting away forks and knives. Whatever he sees on Kaiser’s face makes him move quicker. He nods once to Kaiser, and then hastily leaves.

“You’ve been making yourself quite at home here, demigod.” Kaiser traces the lace outline of the tablemat, every ridge under his calloused finger.

“I vowed myself to your kingdom to the end of your life. I’m simply doing what is asked of me.”

“And you’re all ready for the banquet, I’m guessing?” The sentence is almost mocking as he approaches you.

“It’s just a ball, is it not? I’ve been told I’m just to stand there and make pleasantries.”  

Kaiser chuckles, more bared teeth than sweet. “It is, arguably, the worst part of being so-called royalty.”

“You’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

"To say no to a goddess' proposal would be the greatest blasphemy, no?" 

"From what I've seen, you have not minded sacrilege much at all."

“Marriage means little to me. Disillusioned, perhaps, with the prophecy.” He waves his hand like he speaks of something meaningless. But you see it clearly. Before he had even allowed himself the thought of love, it was taken from him. “Your power is great, your presence ensures the continuation of myself as an heir and successor. Even I can reason with that.”

He's right in front of you now, so close you can feel his body warmth.

“Does it bother me?” He shrugs. “Sure. As far as I’m aware, you are no wife of mine. But a protector of this nation? For that, you are an indispensable ally.”

He looks out the window, towards a coming sunset. Something indescribable on his face, like grief and guilt all in one. He takes a deep breath in and out, inhaling the peace and exhaling the heaviness of his heart, before facing you again. “A war is coming. No one believes me, but I can feel it, as steady as a river’s current. Until then, I’ll make my peace with you.”

You nod. “So be it, your highness.”

That has him stepping back, more incredulous than you’ve ever seen him, body tensed and frowning. Maybe he should’ve expected it, given the way he’s just dismissed you. “Your highness? You hadn’t questioned my lineage before, but now you dare to do so?”

You stare at him blankly. “You are a prince, are you not? Isagi says that’s what princes are called.”

One side of his mouth upturns in relief, and he bursts out a bright laugh. “Is that what they teach you in those lessons Isagi gives? Oh,” a hand runs through the front of his hair, “I thought my own wife-to-be would dare insult me.” 

You scoff. “I have no need for that.” 

“The title ‘your highness’ doesn’t apply to this nation because strength is valued most. I am heir to the throne not because of the blood running through my veins, but because Noa deemed I the strongest — not just in body but in mind, not just in physical strength but in adaptability.” He says it proudly, like fact, like a knowing so deep within him that it turns pride into faith. “A title like that is something used by the Itoshi brothers, let’s say,” he comments airily. “Their throne is carried by a bloodline.” 

He turns on his heel, only looking back when he realizes you don’t follow.

“You don’t know how to dance yet, do you?”

You lean your hip against the table. “I can dance.”

“Come, then. If you’re to be my wife, it’ll be an embarrassment if you don’t at least act like it.”

You follow him to a ballroom – a stunning, wide area with a looping chandelier, curtains that weigh down in arches over each floor-to-ceiling window.

He swoops you from your distraction with a hand around your waist, and the physical contact shocks you so greatly that orbs of water swirl in your hands.

Kaiser only raises an eyebrow at you. “This is a dance, not a duel. Or do the gods do it differently?”

For a man who was so passive to you, he holds you so close that your chest to chest, you can feel each breath he takes against you. When he steps with you, his movements are slow and deliberate, never inefficient. He moves not with fluidity, but with each sure step. Pulls you forward, then pushes you back. Circles you, spins you around.

It’s exactly like when you see him train. Like steps to a kata.

“I thought you said this was not a duel.”

“These are steps to a classic waltz, demigod.”

“You have no fluidity to you.”

Kaiser scoffs. “Should I apologize? With the prophetic curse hanging above me, I haven’t taken a dancing class.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Hm?”

“The prophecy. It doesn’t have to be a curse.”

He stops, separating himself from you, scowling.

“This session is over.”

“Kaiser-,”

“What?” He snaps. “You, of divine nature. You want to tell me how to view my prophecy?”

“I do not say this out of pity, or out of some sort of higher knowing.” You say it with conviction. “As heir to the throne, a throne that is currently being held by Fate itself, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this at all.”

“And yet?”

“To know your fate is to be able to defy it.” And maybe it’s just an effect of your divinity, but it rings like a bell, like truth itself. “Your prophecy may have made a wound, but you are the one who cuts it open. You are a man who wields a sword that cannot, should not be able to be wielded by anyone but the divine. Does that not say something? About you, about your capabilities?”

“And yet you took it from me.” 

The silence that follows is thick with indecision. Kaiser lets the uncomfortableness sit, rejects every heartwarmed statement you make with a roll of his shoulders, like water off a smoothened rock, replaced with only his anger. “I trained for weeks before I could lift that sword out of the riverbank. Yet it is yours, now, simply because you are supposedly its rightful owner.” 

Conflict runs through your face so clearly, he wonders that even if you could lie, whether it would mean anything at all. He watches as your hand reaches into a conjured puddle of water that floats in the air, and out comes the divine sword.

You hold it in your hand with an ease that he has spent months capturing. It strikes envy in him like a branded sear. 

“My role here is technically to secure the sword. I have no need to wield it.” You hold it at the bottom of its handle, directing the top of it to him. “If you swear you won’t lose her, I can set a compromise of sorts.” 

“You think I’d agree to a compromise?” 

You open up your palm, and a bracelet appears. “This will help you keep the sword in a pocket dimension we can both access. If you’re willing to place it there to secure it when you’re not using it, I’ll return her to you until the end of your line.” 

Huh. A safe-keeping place is a more neutral proposition than he had thought you’d come up with. To have her back kills the fight in him, and he accepts begrudgingly, testing the magic in his hands until it becomes natural. 

“For the record, Kaiser, I have not always been worthy of it.”

Something about the way his name slips off your lips has him keening. “Worthy?”

“I stayed true to my course. I was given a title. And then I could wield the sword, presented to me by my queen.”

“Your queen. Heir to the throne.” He laughs bitterly, knowingly. “You’re a princess.”

“Despite your mocking tone, I’ll have you know that title of mine is of the highest regard. I don’t take it nearly as lightly as you do with yours.”

“That’s why you didn’t bow or kneel. You take what’s meant to be yours without a second thought. Not because you’re unknowing, or because of some godly pride, but because you have never been lesser.” He flicks a finger between your eyebrows. “What a spoiled thing you are. Can you even fight?”

Something in Kaiser takes pride in the way you frown more deeply, it’s almost like a pout. It’s almost… 

“Well, I definitely wasn’t sitting idly in the war between Gods.” 

“I’ve never seen you train.” 

“That’s because you’re always on the training grounds.” 

“Oh? You won’t show me?” 

“I’m giving you space. I’m no wife of yours, no?” There’s a sting to it when you say it, having his words thrown back at him. 

“Duel with me. Tomorrow.” He spins you, lets you out of his hold before bringing you back in. 

~

He begins to meet you, day after day. A duel first, and then a dance. The dichotomy would be distasteful to any other, but you of divine blood do not even flinch at his request.

He may be displeased to have you, but his mouth cracked as wide and wicked as a cat’s at the prospect of a fight.

“Go on, then.” He takes a blunt, wooden sword, throwing it in your direction. “Or do you only fight with magic?” He teases. 

You swing the sword, rotating your wrist with ease. “Do you forget yourself, prince? I am half divine, you will surely lose. Are you sure you want to go through with this anyways?” 

His mouth widens, more teeth than smile. “Bring it.” 

You know, the moment you defend against his first strike, that a singular hit from him on the battlefield must be deadly. He is surefooted, his whole weight bears down in every move. He doesn’t let you breathe once, much faster than you would’ve thought with someone of his size and height. 

Kaiser was almost right about one thing, that the divine adds to your magic more than your physical strength. With enough training, in just simple hand-to-hand combat… He might have the potential to beat you. 

But not today. Today, you have him pinned to the ground, makeshift blade to his throat. 

“You’re awfully close,” he gasps out slyly. And it’s in this moment that you notice, too, how right he is about that, how you can feel his heartbeat underneath yours, his chest against yours with each exhale. 

“What?” He grins wide, “afraid you’ll miss?” 

By all the Gods, you want to knock the living daylights out of him. He notices your anger in that hesitation, your conflict between doing what is right and what you want, and flips you over, swapping your positions until his hips are pressed against yours. 

Something about your shell-shocked face makes him stir. 

“First rule of fighting, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair before planting it next to your head, leaning into you close. “Never get distracted by your opponent.”

He’s closer than he was before, admiring the way you look under him, your hair splayed along the ground and the sweet fire of irritation in your eyes. Is the heaving of your chest from your anger towards him, or from something else entirely? 

“When Gods fight, there is not nearly as much prattling.” You grit at him. He smells like the grass of the field and the winter air and the heavy musk of sweat, and when you shove him off, it feels like your hand meets the hard rock of an unruly ocean. 

~

It is during dances that he speaks to you. Not at first, but slowly, like a river that streams into the ocean. You tell him tales about the Gods, about your friends, about wars and petty arguments. And he starts to answer you, more often than not, with every question you might have. 

“I have wondered about something.” 

“Hm?”

“The sheathing. It prevents even me from detecting the sword’s divinity.” 

“Huh, so Nagi really wasn’t lying.” 

“Nagi, who is always with Reo?” 

Kaiser nods. “They say Nagi was once sought upon by a god for his talents, a god who was constantly sending him dreams. But he grew tired of it, so he found a material that prevents even the gods from finding him so he can sleep in peace.” 

The conversation often leads to the prophecy, a bitterness like licorice on his tongue. Even if he skates around the topic, you don’t let him hide from it, cutting straight to the heart of the truth.

“You can live in the cold bitterness you’ve put yourself in, Kaiser,” you tell him, one of these nights. “Or you can live, and maybe even possibly die, warmed by a life you truly felt was worth living. Your own choices. Not because of a prophecy, or because of Noa, or even in spite of me.”

But despite it, he doesn’t move away. Because it is the only time he has you to himself. He sees you, always, with Isagi and Oliver and Karasu and Chigiri. How you have molded into their lives with simplicity, sit with them at meals and have easy conversation despite knowing nothing, in a way that he has never once allowed himself to enjoy. What does it say about Kaiser? That he can't stand your presence but he can't stand your absence even more? That he would rather have a biting argument with you than leave you to your own devices? 

It's during duel and dance that he comes as close as he can to touching you. If he did anymore, it would become something he doesn't have the heart to name without unease settling in his gut.

~

On the day of the banquet, Chigiri sits you down in your vanity, braiding your hair back in his hands.

“The queen of the Gods, her lover, a friend of mine… He used to do this for me too.”

Chigiri silently appreciates that you don’t ask him why it is him that helps you with this. That divinity doesn’t hold the same notions this world does.

“He would-,” you laugh softly to yourself. You’re stunning like this, Chigiri can’t help but notice. A goddess, most casual as can be. “He would say that I was useless at it, actually. You two might’ve been good friends.”

“Me? Friends with a god?” Chigiri finishes the braid, tilting your head in his hands to admire the way the braid crowns around each side.

“Of the Fae, actually. A beautiful man he is. You would fit right in.”

That stops Chigiri, has him taking a sharp intake of breath, smiling at you through the vanity’s reflection. “Thank you, princess. Though you would do good to be more careful during this banquet to compliment anyone.”

You smile softly back. “Ah, yes, my betrothed who will not love me might get jealous. Gods are not so different than people, in this regard.”

“Is that so…”

~

It’s when you meet the Itoshi brothers at the banquet that you begin to understand why Isagi gave you all these lessons.

Where Kaiser is muscle and sword first, more fighter than prince, Sae and Rin are the opposite. They have a grace befitting of royalty. Instead of heavy footfalls that you can hear even in the blanket of snow, they are light-footed, conscious of it in the echoed ballroom.

Though you suspect, from the way Sae grips Kaiser’s forearm as they shake hands, from the way Kaiser regards Sae, that he is somehow just as strong of a fighter. That royalty is an illusion Sae and Rin put on, for peace’s sake.

Something indescribable flits over Sae’s face as you curtsy in front of him, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced with his nonchalance.

“The betrothed of the banquet. We are most pleased to make your acquaintance.” Sae bows his head to you, and Rin follows in his stead.

You smile, something beaming and sweet. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Would you mind, Kaiser?” Sae’s eyes only leave yours for a glance, to check in at Kaiser’s now furrowed look. “I’d like to take your wife-to-be for a dance.”

Kaiser’s back straightens, a hardened gaze with gritted teeth. But he says nothing. You swear Sae almost grins.

“I’ll return her back to you.” He says it like a favor, and Kaiser is only held back by Karasu’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just one dance, Kai,” Kaiser looks at Karasu, then to you, and then back to Sae. He barely nods once.

“Are you sure?” You ask him.

He scowls. “What do I have to be worried about?”

Well, it’s not like you want to anger him further. You let Sae take your hand, leading you to the floor.

“I almost didn't think you were who you said you were, when I saw you,” Sae tells you, breaking the quiet of the dance. 

You lean back so you can see his whole face, your confusion clear. “Your highness?”

“When I had heard of you, they told me that waves flowed off your dress like water itself holds you sacred. Yet here you are, as regular as can be.”

Sae twirls you away from him, then brings you back into his arms. “They say you shook the earth with a single step. Where is all that power you were said to hold?” He holds you close, watching your every reaction with his crystal gaze. “This place. They’ve placated you, tamed you.”

He brings his mouth to your ear, the body warmth of his entire chest seeping into yours. “If you were mine, I would never force you into a box you didn’t belong. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of Kaiser, even with his god-killing sword.” He spins you again, capturing your waist. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t be afraid to demonstrate your power to the world.”

“Sae.” He looks at you in a way that feels meaningful. You don’t know the pleasantries of this nation or his in-depth, but you know, somehow, that this feels like this is something you should shield from. 

“Oh? No honorifics already? We’re that intimate, are we?”

To fight is one thing, but this is something entirely different. Being able to hurt others with a play instead of a sword, you’re not sure if you can shield others from something like that.

As the song ends, Sae takes your hand, brings it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “Consider my proposition, princess. Before your marriage solidifies, and becomes something you can’t escape from.”

With his hand on the small of your waist, he brings you back to Kaiser dutifully. Kaiser links his arm with yours immediately, before any of you can spare a goodbye.

“What did he say to you?”

You hum. You get the sense that maybe…

“Nothing of importance,” you tell him instead.

“Hm?” He tilts your chin up to meet you eye to eye. “Is my own betrothed keeping secrets from me?”

“He said I don’t seem all that powerful.”

That makes Kaiser smile, not something sweet but with teeth bared, like a wolf. “He hasn’t seen you in action.” He pulls you in, hand wrapping to the back of your neck, a slow and deep whisper. “Do you want to show them?”

“Weren’t we both told that’s inappropriate? Isagi said the optics could make your allies scared.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Isagi this, optics that. Our country has always been about the brawl and brave. Let the nations fear us, then. I, with my cruelty and a god-killing sword. You, a sorceress second to none. It’s a pretty picture, is it not?”

He straps his sword to his back and brings you to the middle of the room, and as the guests of honor, the crowd gives you both a wide berth. He circles you, just like you practiced. Makes you center stage.

“Go on then, princess.” He lets go of your hand and bows, sweeping his arm out. “Show us who you really are.”

“Kaiser,” you whisper. “We have very clear orders-”

“I make the orders, not follow them. So make your choice, princess. Wasn’t it you who said that it is worth living a life warmed by your own choices? Tell me, then. Do you want to show them? Or do you want to play nice?”

This play, to have ego and pride dive head-first into a situation, is so very human. And yet-

You let water overcast your body from your waist, let it roll off in layers like waves into the floor. Anyone who has had experience with magic can see your ultimate control over it, how the floor isn’t wet at all, how the water was conjured from nothing. Your hair is silken with dampness, framing your face like gloss. Gasps and awes from the audience makes Kaiser grin even wider.

“There we go.” Kaiser reaches behind him to unsheath his blade, and the galaxy within swirls. He spins it in his hand, and it’s almost like he’s never been happier.

In seconds, he strikes at you. Your hands move up instinctively, blocking the blade with a stream of water. The sound it makes, divinity against divinity, is like a low bell. The floor beneath you shakes with the strength of the strike, water dispersing around your feet in cascades to cushion the impact. You hear screams of shock, a glass breaking.

“Kaiser,” you grit, but all he does is widen that wicked, quicksilver grin.

And then he laughs, stepping away and sheathing the blade back. He holds one hand out to you instead.

“Next time, I want a duel in front of everyone. But this time, I guess a dance will suffice.”

You exhale gratefully, taking his hand in yours and retracting your water. “Let us dance, then.”

And with none of a prince’s grace, with movements that feel more fight than dance, he drifts along the floor with you.

~

Isagi collapses into the booth, a palm pressed to his eyebrows. “Our allies thought they were about to fight each other.”

“Can I cash in on my bet now?” Karasu rolls a skewer stick between his fingers. “Because they might’ve almost killed each other.” 

“Nah,” Oliver leans back. “I think that’s just foreplay.” 

Isagi opens his eyes to find Chigiri and Bachira standing before the booth. Chigiri’s not meeting his eyes, his mouth perching to one side in a way that squishes one of his cheeks. 

“What happened?” 

“They’re gone.” 

“Ha?” 

“We had one drink. One.” 

Oliver has the audacity to laugh, hand over his mouth. “Don’t worry, Isagi,” he pats him on the back. “I’m sure they’re just fucking around.” 

In another corner of the hall, royals speak in low tones. 

“We can just take her if you like her,” Shidou tells Sae with the sweetest smile a man like that can muster. “No need to ask poor little Kai-Kai.” 

Sae says nothing, eyeing you quietly as you step out of the hall. 

~

You are sitting at the edge of the ocean, letting the slate-crested waves wash over you, when he finds you. 

“You can dry me in a moment’s notice if I am to sit with you, right?” He says it almost reluctantly, even though he’s here anyways. He’s dropped his off coat somewhere along the way, and there’s something so naked about seeing him in just a shirt. He almost seems softer, without the harsh lines of battle-ready clothing or the fur that drapes around him, relaxed in a way he wasn’t in the banquet hall. 

You smile. “I can keep you dry whilst you're sitting.” 

He relents, then. Allowing the strangeness of sitting on wet sand without getting wet. 

“Was the banquet up to your expectations, then, Kaiser?” 

Expectations. He’s had none of a party like this. Being allowed to dream is a privilege, and privileges were not granted to him.

“You are officially my wife-to-be,” he says instead. “Shouldn’t you call me something a little more intimate?”

You gaze out into the horizon for a moment, and something in your eyes unfocuses, like you’ve gone somewhere else and then returned. “Very well. I shall call you Mihya.”

It strikes a chord in him, like a teaspoon hitting a glass. “Mihya? Where did that come from?”

“The water.”

“She speaks to you?” 

“She says in another life, you are given a nickname like that.”

“Another life…” He lies down in the sand, watches the streaks of sunset in the blueing sky. 

“Ask then, Mihya,” you lean over him slightly, until all he can see is the sky and the way your features soften. “The question we both know is on your mind.”

He almost wants to reach out, hold your cheek in his hand. It’s a foreign feeling to him, so foreign it almost feels like unease – to want to extend a gentleness like that to another person. “Won’t you just tell me?”

You breathe in the sea-salt air, and breathe out a heart-warmed truth. “The prophecy does not hold you captive in another life.”

Kaiser, for once, lets himself dream. Of a different life, where he is unburdened by a prophecy, and burns brightly.

~

“It would seem strange if you weren’t together, with all the other guests in the palace.” That’s what Oliver tells you as he gestures for you to take his arm, leading you to Kaiser’s room. 

It’s both plainer and more furnished than you thought, like someone who isn’t him had chosen the furniture and the color of the walls. But the items in the bookshelves seem well-loved, items taken out and put back haphazardly, scrolls and books placed back half-way. The bathroom door opens with a flood of light.  

“You’re here.” It’s rare to shock Kaiser in a way that doesn’t make him immediately reach for his sword.

You turn to look at him, taking in his half-dressed state. “Were you expecting some other woman?” 

“Oh, so you’re the jealous type?” 

He almost wants to laugh at the clear discomfort on your face. Gods don’t tease, he’s guessing? 

The bed gives way to you as you take your place. “I hear it’s common for princes to take many lovers.” 

The moonlight spills over the bedsheets as the room darkens, and you summon the sword to float right above you, looking into it. He joins you, wanting to see exactly what you’re seeing. 

“It’s not a night sky.” Your voice is so soft in the blanket of night between you both. 

“Hm?” 

“Inside the sword. Your people say it looks like the night sky. It’s not. It’s a galaxy.” 

He reaches his hand out, tracing over the glass along the middle of the weapon, a silent remark for you to continue. 

“At the beginning of all worlds, the first-ever contract was made between the first-ever forces, and with it, this sword was said to be conjured out of the galaxy. And so, a part of the galaxy at the beginning of all worlds was contained in this sword.” 

The stars in the sword move within like they’re responding to your words, borne witness to all the events. But instead of watching them, you turn to him. 

“You have held and wielded a primordial piece of this world. It has allowed you to hold it, granted you its blessing.” 

Blessed. That is not a phrase Kaiser would have ever used to describe himself. But coming from you, he can almost believe it. Almost hope to have a little more than he’s ever had. 

The sword disappears with a movement of his hand, and he rolls to lean over you. Silence drops like a curtain. The only sound he knows is your breath and his. 

During a fight, his feelings can almost be mistaken for adrenaline. But even under the shadow of the moon, with the cushioned silence between you both, the way you cut straight to the truth rings like a silver bell.

He can’t hide from you. Or maybe. Maybe he’s tired of hiding at all.

He is a man who has only known war and battle, was born and bred into it. War-forged, is what they call men like him. His hands know weapons, know how to kill.

He does not know if they know how to love. And yet-

He cups your face, and drinks you in.

He kisses you with caution, like you might melt from his grasp if he held too tightly. Presses his lips against yours slowly. He runs his hand gently over your hairline as he parts from you. 

Is this okay? He wants to ask. But instead, he says: “Tell me what you want.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against yours when you answer: “You.” 

And then he kisses you like a man starved, never known by this feeling that gets caught up in his throat with every noise of yours he swallows. 

“Is this… is this what you want?” You try to ask as you part from him for air, but he presses his mouth to the space behind your ear instead, laying kisses down your neck. “Is this a decision that you are making for yourself, by your own hands? That is entirely for you?” 

That makes him stop. But when he looks at you with a surefire gaze… 

He knows it, undoubtedly. That this, for once, is his. 

“There are no lovers,” he tells you between kisses, to your shoulder, down your collarbone, to your breastbone. 

“What?” 

“I take no lovers.” He unclasps your bra, lets the material fall from his hands to cup your supple flesh. “I’ve never been princely, after all.” 

“You- Kai-” 

He runs his thumbs across both your nipples, admires how they perk up at his administrations, flitting his gaze between them and your face as he brings his mouth down over one of them. 

He presses kisses down your body, cups your heat in his hand like he’s begging you to respond, like he’s saying let me have this. The inside of your thighs is soft as cream under his calloused hands. His thumb moves along the outside of your underwear, from your slit up to your clit with his fingers pressing tentatively against the fabric until you’re grabbing at his wrist. 

“You’re so tense,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want me to take care of that for you?” He runs the knuckles of his hand over your clothed slit, bumping into your clit with his thumb until your breathing gets heavy, your hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Kaiser,” you breathe, and he clicks his tongue. 

“That’s not what you call me, baby. Not anymore.” 

“Mihya.” 

“Mm,” he slides his fingers into your panties from the side, a huff of breath leaves him at the wetness he finds. “Good girls get rewarded, you know?” 

Heat coils hot deep in your stomach. He can’t take the restriction, pulling your panties down and revealing your core to the cold air. He lets his slickness pool on his fingers, collects it before bringing it to your clit. It’s like a drug, watching the way your face gives way to pleasure, how your body arches into him. 

“Mihya,” you gasp again, like a chant, a prayer. Is this what the gods feel like, to be asked of? 

“Let me watch,” he says it like a demand but it aches with desperation, a thing he won’t admit outside these four walls. He presses with more confidence now, slides one finger into you, then two. There’s little resistance with the way he’s riled you up, long fingers pressing into you until he reaches something that has you making a broken moan so pretty he can’t help but tilt into it again. 

“I want to see it,” he tells you. This is something he makes happen to you, with his own hands, his own words, his own body that shares its heat with yours. That notion alone runs arousal straight through him. Your panting breath, the way your body shakes with each swipe against your clit. 

“I want to see you fall apart in my arms.” He whispers, and you respond in kind. You always do to him, don’t you? He’s been seen too surely by you, now it’s his turn. Your body tenses entirely, tightly, gripping him as he grants you reprieve. A soft whine leaves your mouth along with something like his name, and the rough pad of his thumb circles over your clit until you crash, coming around his fingers. 

He swipes a thumb over your cheek, allows himself the gentleness that he’s held back for so long with you. 

“One more, okay?”

Your eyes widen. “Mihya,” this time it’s like a warning, but the way you say his name is so breathy it has him pressing a hand over his pants. 

“Yeah, say my name just like that.” He shuffles down until his mouth is pressing to your stomach, just above your mound. Then again to the inside of your knee, trailing up until the inside of your thigh, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there. 

“You’re-, wait, we just- I just” 

“Mm, and you’re gonna give me one more.” He kisses your clit first, like a promise, and then he laps at your core generously, from the bottom of your slit all the way to your clit, his flat tongue against the whole of you. Every drop of slick from your previous orgasm is taken in by him with each moan he makes against your core. If he had known this feeling was going to enter his life, that it would’ve felt like this, maybe he would’ve readied himself better for it. Instead, he finds himself starving at the table where it’s served. The taste of you on his tongue wraps him in a heady pleasure, but it’s every sound he takes out of you that has him pressing a little more insistently, tongue laving over you. 

“Pl-please,” your words break between gasps, and it has him lapping into your clit with more pressure. 

“I can never say no to you, can I?” he mumbles between your legs. And then he’s flipping you over, hoisting you onto your knees and skimming his hands over your rear and thighs before diving in again. Your face is pressed into the pillow, hands grabbing the sheets. Kaiser almost seems dazed as he moans into your cunt, swollen and wet like a siren’s call, hands wrapped so tightly around your plush thighs that it feels like it might bruise. 

“Let me taste,” he mutters, mouth still lodged into your cunt, like that isn’t what he’s already doing. “Come on baby, give it to me. Let me taste it on my tongue.” 

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing as another orgasm rocks through you, your breath coming short as you break apart on his tongue with a whine. 

He flips you over again, and the look on his face takes your breath away. Your slick shimmers on his mouth as he trails his tongue over his lips, like he’s addicted, like he can’t get enough. He tilts his head with a grin so cocky that if you weren’t so blissed out you might just punch him. 

“There something you want, pretty?” He leans over you, hand to the bedpost, and how broad and tall he is becomes that much more obvious. You let yourself look, at the way his tattoo drapes over his arm, run your hands over the muscle of his torso down to his v-line. You hear a sharp intake of breath as your hand moves lower, running under his loose sleep pants to the base of his cock. 

He grabs your hand in his, bringing it over your head and circling both your wrists. “Ask.” 

“You-,” your eyes narrow and you huff at him, but it only makes him smile. “Won’t you just-” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“I could cut you down here.” 

He drops his pants, pumping his cock once and then sliding it along your slit. “You could. And then who’ll give you what you want?” 

You want to roll your eyes, but then he has one hand tapping against your clit, the other gripping either side of your cheeks. 

“You begged so pretty for me earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he rasps. “What happened to that?” 

The harsh look you give him under those fluttering lashes of yours makes something stir in his gut, arousal shot through his veins, pupils wide. He plays with you, warm hands against your skin and between your legs, the soft skin of his cock sliding between your thighs until you’re gasping in his hold again, grinning like a battle won. 

“Please, Mihya,” you sigh. 

“Mhmm. Please what?” 

“Please- please fuck me.” 

He gets off on it, watching you yield to him, spreading your legs, dripping your hot slick onto his cock. He presses the head against you, petaled folds opening up to receive him as he slides into you slowly. Just the first few inches is so thick inside of you that your hands wrap around the muscles of his arms, nails digging in. 

“Shh, baby, you can take it,” he hushes your little whines, tracing your hairline with such gentleness it contradicts the way he pulls out of you just slightly only to push in again. 

“You’re- oh,” your body gives into him, even more so when he brings his hand down to tap on your clit, his mouth over your neck, to the side of your mouth, until he’s kissing you and taking in every noise you make. It’s almost a distraction, helps your body to relax so he can press into you deeper. You think you feel every inch as it enters you, all the way until the hilt, until the head is pressing deep inside of you and his hips meet yours.  

He lets out a rough, deep moan against the expanse of your neck, breath coming short as your walls tighten around him. 

“Fuck, baby. You gotta let me move.” Your arms wrap around him tighter, a whimper falling from your lips as he tilts his hips up to plunge into you again. It’s hard and slow and deep and if it wasn’t for his grip on you, you might’ve hit the headboard. But he’s careful about it – more than you might’ve thought he’d be. Pressing your body into the bed as his hips meet yours again and again. 

“It feels so good,” you tell him, and it has him pressing a kiss to your cheek in return. Makes every moan you make that much sweeter, to know it’s out of your pleasure, to know it’s because of him. 

“Good girl. Tell me again.” 

“Feels- you’re so big, so- please, I need-” Your walls can barely clench down onto him with how he feels inside of you. Chest to chest with him, the contact of skin on skin-

“You drive me insane,” he grumbles it into your skin; a confession, exacerbated with each thrust of his hips as he picks up the speed, until he’s slamming into you with a kind of strength that has you seeing constellations behind your eyes. He wants you- needs you to feel the way he feels. Needs to have you lying in his bed, thinking only of him and how he makes you feel. Heat pools in your core until you’re arching your back, and he knows it now – knows it like the back of his hand. 

“Give it to me.” It’s a command, a need, if you listen closely enough. “Come around my cock. Show me.” 

“Mihya, it’s so much, it’s so so much.” It’s treacherous, the way it works through your body, being on the brink. 

His thumb is slick over your clit, pressing just a little more, until your thighs are tightening under his unrelenting body. “Come for me.” 

You chant his name until the words start to become nothing in your mouth, until you’re breathless, until your whole body tenses under him and his hold against you gets that much rougher and your walls clamp down and then your body shakes as you come. You almost scream, only silenced by his lips on yours. He comes quickly after that, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in how you look underneath him as his cock gets more sensitive and paints the inside of your walls. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow until he feels your body start to relax under his. 

You can barely process coming down as he’s kissing you again, deeply and with force, like he’s etching the memory of you into his mind and onto your lips. 

For once, he lets himself recognize – how tiring the emptiness has been, to be devoid of this feeling and instead be filled with the fear that it’ll be turned against him. For once, he lets himself feel – to have something that is wholly his. to know and be known. To give and know you will receive. Not an offering at an altar but a hand in his, not a prayer but a soft word spoken in return. Kaiser does not want something as untouching as approval or attention from the divine. But he does want your waist in his arms, your forehead against his.

“Just like this,” he whispers it, a kiss placed to your forehead. You don’t know what he means, too tired to ask. 

This is exactly what he’s always wanted. Just like this. 

~

Not unlike a parent, Noa notices the closeness of your relationship. In touch, in stolen glances, in longing. A private conversation with him over afternoon tea is not unique, but the heaviness that weighs on him is. 

“As the goddess who cannot lie, I have to ask you.” The hardened look on his face makes you straighten your back, putting down your teacup. “You know, that I have to ask.”

Silence sits between you both like a shoe about to drop. 

Noa yields. “Has he truly been forsaken by all the gods?”

You are strangely silent as you look at him, then away, then back. 

“Answer me, demigod.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I. Don’t. Know. I have told you before, that I am not a seer, or an oracle. Water holds memory. I can see the past, I can even see other lives parallel to ours, but I cannot see the future. This is the limit of my power.”

“You are of divine nature.” 

“I had said what I said at our first meeting, and that has not changed. As long as I am here, the Gods have not forsaken him. For I have not forsaken him. Is that not enough? How many Gods would travel to your realm, vow themselves to a human kingdom? Even if it is I alone that stands before you, is that not enough?”

Noa sighs, more exasperated than you’ve ever seen a serious man like him. “He deserves more, that boy. For what he has been put through.”

“All greatness comes with a price. All heroes face tragedy. He, no matter how much you may care for him, is not the exception to that.” You tilt your head, like a cat with curiosity. But unlike that sweetness, your words are cutting. “You made him a ruler. You made him a hero. So, stand by that. Or does it make you uncomfortable? To consider the role you, too, have played in his life?”

Noa, of course, has thought about this too. Had he not chosen Kaiser to rule, would he have had the prophecy weighing on him like a second shadow? 

“If the prophecy holds true, you will inevitably leave him.” Noa swallows, hand flat against the table. “He will inevitably be forsaken, even by you.”

“Then why,” you ask, genuinely, “did you ask me to stay?”

~

In the weeks that follow, you learn exactly why. Like Kaiser had predicted, talk of battle comes. 

“We suspect a neighboring nation wishes to wage war with us.” Noa looks out to the slate-blue ocean from the window of the war room. 

“A man who wants control of this whole world,” Karasu huffs. “There’s never a lack of them, is there?”

“He thinks himself a god. Or that’s what Sae has told us.” 

“You’re sure Sae’s information checks out?” 

“Shidou and Otoya like to visit neighboring nations for uh… fun, let’s say,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, then plants his face in his hands. “He said something along the lines of “you don’t wanna know how they found out” and “Shidou sleeps with both men and women, so it’s been cross-checked too.”” 

“And then we asked him about war,” Isagi throws his notes down on the table. “He said, and I quote, ‘I already have more land than I know what to do with. What could another few acres give me? What a hassle.’” 

“The enemy are bold to come for us first.” Kaiser frowns considerably. They are possibly the one nation blasphemous enough that would not blink at the thought of fighting a god. “There’s something we’re not seeing.”

Isagi nods in agreement. “We still don’t know the reason they’re coming here first. It could be the sword, or the goddess.” Isagi frowns. “I told you not to make a scene at the banquet.”

Kaiser gives him a curious look with a smile he fails to hide. “The point of a banquet is to wow the people. The people were wowed, were they not?” 

“It could be, it could not be,” Noa kills the conflict there. “That information would have been made public regardless of the spectacle. It could even simply be the throne itself they seek. An army like ours could parade into the neighboring nations and lay waste, our people are used to much harsher weathers.” 

“Or maybe he means to make a statement,” Karasu shrugs. “If he wants to be a god, maybe he means to punish the disrespect we’ve shown.” 

“What do we actually know?” Chigiri taps the map of this nation splayed across the table.

“We know he wants to take control of this world, and we know his plan includes something from us.” 

“He knows once he controls the world, he has to take care of it, right?” Oliver rests his jaw in his hand. “As in, it’s not just about buying the house, it’s about cleaning it too. The plan – it has to be bigger than this, no?” 

“Won’t happen once we kill him here. So as far as we know, there are three things we have that he could want: the sword, the goddess, the army.” Chigiri holds up his fingers as he counts. 

“So we’ll meet him with all three at the front lines. Fear does not wield us, after all. Only strength.” Kaiser says it like a mantra. You suspect it might be exactly that. 

~

“What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, princess.” 

As an ally, Sae arrived on the day of battle without question. He is much different from the first time you saw him, chainmail armor wraps tight and sleek around his body, clearly of a weight underneath his clothing. He stands straighter, shoulders broader, badges clipped to his outer jacket. It’s clear to anyone who looks at him, that it’s almost like he was born into them – meant for them. 

“You’re both on the front lines then?” 

“Idle hands,” Kaiser starts.

“Devil’s workshop.” You finish. You hear a horse galloping, then a voice. 

“There’s something wrong.” The people give a wide berth as Oliver arrives, with a sleek black mare that’s obedient as can be. “The majority of the enemies’ troops are not in front of us.” 

All of you turn to look, but it’s on the front lines that makes it most difficult to tell where the crowd begins and ends. 

“I did a rough head count from the tower. This isn’t the count we had observed just the other day. They’ll die easily, like this, against us. And I don’t mean that from an egotistical standpoint. I think these men are here to die, meant to die. It serves to mean –” 

“This is a distraction.” 

Karasu appears at your side, with an utmost silence only he is capable of. “They’re headed for the main castle, from around the edge of the border.” 

You and Kaiser look to each other with a whole silent conversation, and Sae sighs. 

“Go on, then.” 

You turn to Sae immediately, with a seriousness he doesn’t expect. “You’ll be unprotected.” 

“We chopped liver to you, girl?” Shidou sneers. 

Oliver drops down from his horse. “I’ll take over here.” 

“Your care for me is truly touching, princess,” Sae’s voice lilts touchingly, almost revealing how much he likes it. “But you swore a vow to this kingdom, so go fulfill it.” 

Even in the middle of a war, it gets Kaiser all worked up, his chin jutting as you both run back to the palace. But Sae understands duty, stands by it. It’s what makes him worthy of his own title in his own kingdom. 

Oliver waits until you’re both out of sight before turning to Sae. “Did you really plan to steal her?” 

“Well,” Sae shrugs. “Did you plan on letting her go so easily?” 

~

Your water runs in cascading waves through the whole of the palace, like the ocean itself comes rushing through the walls. It knocks all the soldiers down as you and Kaiser run through, and he picks up any stragglers with ease.  

“The throne room?” Kaiser slams the hilt of his sword into the guy behind him, and he collapses instantly. 

“It is the safest room.” 

“That makes no sense. If you knew anything about our people, you’d know we never hide ourselves there in a battle.” 

“Go anyways,” you tell him, as another man gets thrown off his feet. “Go, Kaiser!” 

He takes one final look at you, at the strength that you hold in your hands, and then he runs. 

The man he finds sitting on the throne has black hair cut blunt to his chin, a white mask over one side of his face. Kaiser unsheathes his sword, pointed straight and true. 

“That throne doesn’t belong to you.” 

“It will. Along with that sword you’re holding.” 

Kaiser chuckles, the kind that has madness interlaced in it. “If you wanted the sword so bad, you could’ve asked for a one-on-one combat duel. I haven’t had a satisfying fight in a long time, I’d be happy to lay the sword as a winning prize.” 

What must be the man’s most elite fighters drop down from the ceiling, crowding in on all sides. 

“Ah, I see,” Kaiser stands straighter, reaching behind him to unsheath his second sword. “It is your capabilities that do not match mine.”

When they come for him, it’s clear to even the heavens that he is exactly as he is fated – a force to be reckoned with. He moves like a spider-spun silken web, capturing each of them blow by blow. His swords cut like butter through them with impressive speed and strength. His breath comes fast and hard when he finishes, sweat dripping down his back. 

“I see now, prince,” the man approaches him, and it’s closer up that he realizes he’s simply in a suit, no armor. “Why they praise you, despite your blasphemy. You, a prince famous for cursing divinity at a whim’s notice, are a powerful ally. Kneel before me, then, and I’ll cease this all – let you join our cause in a war against the gods, in stealing their divinity from them. I’ll even forgive this transgression of bedding one.” 

“Me? Kneel?” The canned laugh that Kaiser lets out echoes. “I kneel to no god, let alone a man who wants to become one.” 

“So be it, then.” 

Kaiser hears something above him. By the gods, what’s with this guy and ceilings? Is that why he wants to fight here? A dust of something shimmers down, he pulls his cloak over himself- 

From the doorway, you throw your water across the room, shielding Kaiser from whatever it may have been. And in the same moment, a poof of shimmer bursts over your own head and tumbles down around you. 

“That’s the problem with you gods, isn’t it? You always think you’re infallible.” 

You cough, falling to one of your knees. Dread fills inside of you, like a faucet you can’t turn off. You can’t move. How is that possible? 

The man taps two fingers to the top of your head, and your world goes dark.

~

When you blink your eyes open, the first thing you’re aware of is the way your vision swims. Your mind feels clouded, stuffed with cotton. You press your palm to your head, and even that feels muted. 

“I’ve made her mine now. She’ll do exactly what I say. Does that make you upset?” Is what you think you hear, through the ringing of your ears. “Let’s see you put that god-killing sword to good use then, shall we?” 

“It’s. Magic.” You spit out the words as your hands press into the ground. Your legs cramp from the way you’re forcing them to stay down. “Mihya. Run, please.” 

“Awh, worried about me?” Kaiser teases as he logs the odds. There is no water that swirls around you, so it begs to reason – you can’t call it. The only weapon you have is a dagger. 

Kaiser tilts his head until his neck cracks. “Have some faith in me, princess. I’m not afraid, even against you.”

He breathes, in and out, until the calmness of battle seeps into him, raises his sword pointed right at you. “I’ll win, even against you.” 

And then he reveals that cocky, surefire smirk. “You should worry more about not dying yourself.” 

When you launch at him, it is without mercy, makes him realize how your kindness seeps into the way you fight. His weapon is bigger, larger, and he uses it to keep you at arm’s length, to wrap around towards the enemy. But he sees his problem almost immediately. Like a puppet on strings, you’re protecting the enemy. 

He knows it, the moment the prophecy solidifies into place in his mind. That feeling of being lost on a path, gone with the reigning down a light. The final puzzle piece in the picture. 

You will die by the hands of the one you love most. So, it truly was this feeling, after all. Love. An aching thing, something so undoing. An open wound that can only be tendered by you. 

For once, the prophecy is not a curse but a guiding starlight. He corners you with strike after strike, until you’re as close as can be to the enemy. And then he approaches you with no defense, lets you strike at him. In the same breath, his sword lands behind you and takes off the enemy’s head. 

None of the fight felt as clear as this moment, when your blade presses into his heart. 

He collapses, right in front of the throne with you on top of him. The throne that should be undoubtedly his, belonging to him as heir. Tears fall from your face before your mind can clear. Like you know, soul to soul, as his lifeform slips through your fingers. He brings his hand to cup your cheek, as he had wanted to do when you laid like this above him in the sand. 

“I did not expect a death so gentle for myself.” 

His smile is so bittersweet that it aches all the way to the bottom of your heart. His hand slips down from your face as you finally come to. 

“You will not die on me.” You gasp out, a statement said with so much conviction that the silver bell of truth rings in return. You call to your water immediately, a stream so fast it cuts into your skin but you don’t care. 

A magic that can only be done once. You take the divine sword from the ground, aim the blade carefully at yourself – your own soul. Only this sword can make a cut like this, with the hand of the divine. You slice your wrist, and instead of blood, pure golden lifeforce pours out. 

You separate your divinity from yourself, and you feed it to him. It will not turn him divine. You are only half-divine yourself, after all. What you can give is not nearly enough to turn a man into a God. But it will hold his soul in this world, let you do an unspeakable magic: an exchange of divine power for life, a process long enough for the water to heal his heart back together again. The hand you lay against his mouth shakes more and more with each second that your golden blood pours into him, but your other hand lays steady as ever over his heart, until you feel it beat once, twice. Hear him spurt out a breath. 

You collapse on top of him before you can see him open his eyes. 

~

“I see the prophecy has been completed.” 

When Kaiser wakes, there’s a split second where he thinks he might’ve just ended up wherever souls go at the end of their line. There’s what must be a full-fledged goddess standing right over him. It’s only your warm body splayed across his chest that tells him otherwise. His hands are lightning quick, sitting up and moving to your neck to check your pulse, only exhaling and relaxing once he feels it. 

Golden threads extend down the sleeves of the goddess’ arms. He’s seen the paintings. Fate itself stands before him. 

“How could you do this?” He makes his disdain clear, lacking any respect one might give to the queen of the gods herself. 

“I am sorry.” She answers immediately, and that makes Kaiser’s eyes widen just slightly. “Your grievances, you may relay them to me, if you wish. There is a bigger picture at play here, bigger than you or the water sorceress or even myself. The threads of fate are not woven selfishly.” 

“You gods up in your clouds play with the lives of mortals. That has always been written in history. But to her? To one of your own?”

“She is more one of mine than most. The heir to the throne of the Gods, I would’ve entrusted her with my life. It’s why she complies with Fate in every life, without complaint.”

“So she lends you her loyalty, and you take advantage of her. And you dare put yourselves above us?” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heavy too, are my hands, that weave the golden threads. You and her are one of many that have suffered by my hand. For that, there is no apology I can give. What I can give, well… Would you like to hear your full prophecy, prince?”

Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will die by the hands of the one you love most. Forsaken by all the Gods but one, Re-emerge, awaken, as the ruler you are meant to become.

In any other circumstance, he would be eager as ever to finally hear the full prophecy. But his eyes are only on you, your slumbering state as he holds you in his arms. 

“What will become of her?” He asks quietly. 

“She will be a water sorceress, as she had initially been.” 

“She will die, then? Like a human does?”

“All things die, hero.” Hero. That’s what he is now, having been trial-passed. The title burns like bourbon down his throat. “Even the divine dies. But yes, she will die as a human, and be reborn again as the cycle permits.” 

“A life of such simplicity is not befitting of a woman like her.” 

“Who says it would be simple? Besides, she has gone through the trial of the divine once before. Don’t you have faith she could do it again?” 

The trial of the divine. He had not known such a thing prior to you. But if anyone could pass it, it would be you. 

“I will make her my wife. I care little for the words or respect of the gods, even a queen like yourself. But it is my duty to inform you. If she will have me, I will wed her as has been planned.” 

“The prophecy is complete. What happens now is too inconsequential for me to put effort into. However…” she watches you, teartracks streaked down your cheeks. “I’m quite fond of her. I hope for her an easy life.” 

In a blink, her form disappears. 

“Kaiser!” Oliver’s voice echoes through the halls, taking big leaps with Noa to his side, skidding to a halt when he finally finds you both. 

“The goddess-” 

“She lives,” Kaiser cups your head into his chest. “Though she is goddess no more. A trade. Not a fair one by any means.” His thumb traces across your cheek, a state of his so vulnerable it renders Oliver speechless. 

Noa approaches the threshold where Oliver does not dare. He rests his hand on the crown of Kaiser’s head. “Another chance at life is the greatest gift, and she has granted you as such. That is a debt you��ll never be able to repay her for..” 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, then.” 

~

It’s only in the aftermath, that you find out how deep in you truly were.

Kaiser takes a big inhale of the winter air. It’s fresh and cold. And with him, the nation breathed a breath anew, and the trial laid in ashes under his feet.

You’re facing the horizon of the sea when he finds you. 

In the catch of the light, sometimes he swears he sees the divinity that had shimmered off of you before. It’s almost hard to believe, with the ring of water that floats around you, that it had ever left you at all. 

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, as it always is with you now. 

“Relearning the water.”

“What does it say?”

“That I am still its mistress. Still a sorceress,” the water around you drops into the wet sand. “That its loyalty with me is not dependent on divinity.”

He places a hand to the back of your neck, easing out the tensions there. “But?”

You smile weakly. “I have to strain to hear her now.”

“Guess we can’t do that spectacle again for our wedding.” He cracks a smile, something to ease the ache. “Water holds memory, right?” 

“That, it does.” 

He grabs your hand, pulling you up and towards the waves. You yell for him, but the ocean crashes loudly around you both, and he drags you into the water anyways. Once you’re deep in enough that the waves drape over your knees, he pulls you in close. 

“Let her bear witness, then.” He whispers it against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face. He kisses you, deep and with so much heart you might burst from it. 

A prophecy unfolded, a fate changed, a life saved. 

There’s a part of you that can feel an oncoming future. A sheathing that can block even the eyes of Gods. God-killing weapons that have descended from the heavens themselves. A potion that can cause madness in the minds of the divine. A war between mortals and Gods is coming, you’re sure of it. 

But not in this life. In this life, you are a water sorceress, and he is a trial-passed hero. And like in every life, you find your way back to each other, every time. 

author's note: ohmygod THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE tell me what you think!!! this is my longest fic ever so i really hope you enjoyed

extended author's note -- know that this is an incredibly realistic note about the perception of love that will take you out of the fantasy lovey-dovey space. it's a disclaimer for the parts of the fic i romanticize and how u should not romanticize them in real life, as well as some notes about kaiser's characterization if you're interested

[bartonomy]

SWIFT HOPPER

PAIRING James Potter x animagus rabbit! reader

SYNOPSIS James Potter can catch a Snitch- but not a rabbit much to a group of little gremlins' dismay .

CONTENT WARNING I know that James wasn't a seeker in canon but it just fits, fluff!!!

WORD COUNT 0.8k

library.

If James Potter had a Galleon for every time you slipped through his fingers, he’d be wealthier than the entire Black family ever.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t being paid for this endeavour, nor was he being particularly successful at it.

“Come on, darling, stop making this harder than it has to be!”

His voice rang through the Grand Staircase, bouncing off the walls in a way that made you want to laugh, except you currently didn’t have the vocal cords to do so. You had, however, very effective legs. And you put them to good use, launching yourself up the next set of stairs before James could lunge for you.

“You’ve got to be bloody joking,” James muttered under his breath, hands on his knees, breath coming out in sharp bursts. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose, and his tie was crooked from where he’d nearly strangled himself with it in an earlier attempt to grab you.

You, in your very cute rabbit form, twitched your little nose at him from the top of the staircase, entirely unaffected by the physical exertion that had James sweating.

You were mocking him. You had to be mocking him.

The castle made an unhelpful groaning sound beneath you, and the staircase immediately shuddered, beginning to move.

Ah. Well. That complicated things.

You saw James curse under his breath as the shifting staircases separated you. He stood across the the lower stairs, one foot braced against the railing, hazel eyes locked onto you with the intensity of a Seeker tracking the snitch.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, as if he could somehow read your mind.

You wiggled your little nose. Oh, I dare.

“Alright, bun, fun’s over,” James announced, straightening and swiping a hand through his already-messy hair. “Be a good little bunny and come here before I—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the staircase shuddered once again.

His eyes widened as he watched, horrified, while the stairs started swinging away from the landing you were standing on.

“Oh, Godric's-”

You had been mid hop when the ground beneath you quite literally disappeared.

Which meant you were falling.

A startled squeak left your throat, your stomach flipping as the staircases spun around you. Your brain scrambled for a plan, but your current form didn't have the capacity to make any logical decisions.

James, however, didn’t think a second before he reacted. Years of Quidditch training had his body moving before his mind could fully catch up. He lunged forward, arms outstretched, diving for you before you could plummet into the gaping free space between staircases.

For one terrifying second, he thought he’d missed.

Then-

Warm fur and a tiny, panicked heartbeat in his palm.

James landed hard, knees slamming into the stone floor (luckily only one floor lower) as he clutched you to his chest, his breath ragged. He felt you wiggle in his grasp, probably about to scurry away again, and he tightened his hold.

“Oh no, don't even think about hopping off again,” he rasped, voice hoarse from the burst of adrenaline. “You almost died, and I, merlin’s soggy balls, I cannot believe I’m saying this- I refuse to let you humiliate me any further, bun.”

He barely had time to process what had just happened before a small cluster of very concerned (entertained) first years came into view at the top of the stairs, staring down at him with wide, fascinated eyes.

One of them hesitantly raised a hand. “Um… you are James Potter, yeah?”

James, still half sprawled on the ground, one arm wrapped securely around a very disgruntled rabbit, groaned. “Yeah?”

The first year blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be really fast?”

James closed his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Count to ten.

A second one, with quite ugly glasses if he might add, nodded solemnly. “You are the best Seeker at Hogwarts....”

Another one agreed (how many bloody children are there?!) “That rabbit was so much faster than you.”

James exhaled sharply. “Holy balls, I hate this day.”

You, nestled in his arms, flicked your ears, entirely pleased with yourself.

He looked down at you, scowling. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

You wiggled your nose. Obviously.

James muttered something about bloody rabbits before shifting you so he could get back on his feet.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” he grumbled and kissed your little furry head fondly, holding you a little closer as he turned to leave, ignoring the quiet snickers of the overgrown babes behind him.

This had not been his proudest moment.

And if Sirius ever found out about it?

James was never going to hear the end of it.

[owuwi]

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

NSFW ALPHABET.ᐟ

pairings: switch!caitlyn kiramman x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw, usage of strap, mentions of free use, sex positions, mentions pussy eating, mentions of overstimulating, mentions of sex toys, mentions of knife play and anal as a turn off

2.5k words

── requested ──

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

sosososo caring!

even if she's tired, she'll always get you whatever you need. she's the type of girl to place soft, slow kisses along every inch of your burning skin, not caring about the thin layer of sweat covering your body. her hands roam all over you in the gentlest manner, wanting you to feel as relaxed as possible. after doing all of this, she'll carry you bridal style and give you a bath — if you're too tired, she'll simply clean you up with a warm towel —.

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

in her, it's her waist. have you seen it? you can basically grab it with only one hand! she knows it amplifies her good looks and will always wear certain clothes that emphasizes her curves.

on you, it's any plushy part. whether it's your thighs, your ass, your tummy, or your breasts. she loves holding onto your body and she loves feeling your flesh. her love for your body isn't always sexual, she feels pure adoration whenever she looks at you and she can't hide it.

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

she never gets tired of seeing you cum.

no matter how many time's you've done it, seeing how your body reacts to such intense pleasure created by her is something that never fails to amaze her. she loves making you cum more than she can explain and will never get tired of experiencing your reactions, which often leads to her overstimulating you and constantly asking you for one more orgasm.

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

this woman is a freak.

it's something she's not exactly proud of yet can't control. she's even a bit embarrassed because she never thought she'd ever act like this. when she first met you, she wasn't exactly experienced nor knew a lot of sexual stuff — she was quite awkward and let you had control almost every time — ,but that quickly changed once your relationship got more serious and as time passed.

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

she definitely knows what she's doing.

she's a fast learner so it doesn't take her long to get to know your body — to figure out what you like and what you don't —, and she definitely takes advantage of her little skill. she knows how to get you dripping in a couple of seconds, she knows how to have you begging for her touch, and she definitely enjoys seeing you so desperate.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style or you riding her.

she loves the sight doggy style provides and it's a position where she has more control. her hands are always on your ass — constantly groping and slapping it — and she loves leaning down to press slow kisses all over your back — especially when she's fucking you rougher —.

she feels like a teenage boy whenever you're riding her; the most love-struck look plastered on her face as you bounce up and down her strap. she was definitely awkward the first time you did this, her hands basically glued besides her own legs as she watched you. she became more confident over time, soft palms roaming over every single inch of your body — her hips occasionally thrusting up to meet your movements —.

as for sub!cait, she loves when you drape her legs over your shoulders. it's a position which makes her lose all control and she's on your mercy, making her feel vulnerable — in a good way — and under your care.

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

despite everything, she's still a silly little thing.

she cannot stop giggling when you start taking off her clothes or even when you're kissing, soft laughs constantly slipping past her lips. it's a reaction she's always had whenever she gets too excited so she can't really control it, yet she totally tries to be more serious at times — especially when she's the one in control —.

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

her bush grows fast and it's thick — yet soft —.

she trims her bush whenever she can just because she finds it more comfortable, though she'll definitely let it grow a bit more if you ask her nicely. however there are obviously times where she's too busy to trim it.

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

intimacy is always present in your relationship.

during sexual acts, she always wants you to feel and know how much she loves you. after being rough or kinkier on you, she doesn't waste any time to shower you in affection and murmuring how much she cares about you; how you're the best thing that's ever happened to her and how she can't bare the thought of losing you.

intimacy outside of sex is something she cherishes. she loves those warm, quiet little moments with you. she loves brushing her fingers along your body, tracing your curves while listening to your soft breathing. what she loves the most is listening to your heartbeat, especially after a shitty day. you're all she needs in her life and to feel better.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

she only does it when she's really stressed and busy.

on those times where she's not with you and she really needs to blow some steam, she slips her hand inside her pants and allows herself to get carried away. she doesn't do it often because she's grown accustomed to the pleasure only you can provide her, though she always thinks of you on those rare moments when she touches herself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

free use and orgasm control.

she's a busy and stressed woman, often seeking relief after a rough day, and you're always her best solution. she mostly does this when she comes back home and she doesn't want to distract you from what you're doing — which is usually making her some dinner —, so she simply buries her face in the crook of your neck and allows her hands to roam all over your body. 'mhm... don't mind me..' those are the words she always murmurs as her hand slip inside your underwear, sliding up and down your slightly slick folds.

she loves having control over everything she possibly can, and that includes your pleasure. despite loving seeing you fall apart for her, there are other ways she enjoys breaking you. she's sneaky about it at first, not wanting you to see her real intentions, and it would be cute if it wasn't for how mean she gets. she won't let you cum no matter how much you beg or cry, she'll only give you what you crave after she feels she's had enough.

oh but if you try and control her orgasm, she'll immediately understand the torture she puts you through and claims she won't do it again — though that's a lie —.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

she doesn't really have a favorite place. as long as you two are comfortable, she'll fuck you anywhere. though the place she enjoys having sex the most is somewhere more private. she relishes in hearing you moan, in hearing how you scream her name while she makes you see stars, so doing it somewhere more public won't allow you to be loud.

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

your reactions.

the way you react to her will never fail to get her going. she loves the way your body shivers under her fingertips, the way your skin heats up as she kisses her way down, the way you twitch as she makes contact with your drooling pussy, and she obviously can't forget about the way you moan. seeing the effect she has on you brings her such indescribable pleasure, normally resulting in her fucking you for hours — whether it's with her mouth, fingers, or strap —.

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

anything that will hurt you + stuff you aren't into.

she cannot stand even the mere thought of you being in actual pain while being intimate, especially not pain she caused. despite her rough she can be, you're her whole life and she never wants you to be in any discomfort. she's not into hitting you, making you bleed, nor truly making you cry.

for sub!cait, she's not into anal. the idea turns her off and it's not something she's excited — willing — to try.

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

she loves both giving and receiving.

this woman eats pussy like she's starving and never bothers to hide it. she knows how to use her mouth; dragging her tongue up and down your slick folds and toying with your red clit before sucking harshly — a combination of her saliva and your arousal dripping down her chin —. she takes pleasure in making you feel good, though there are times where all she needs is your head between her legs.

on those nights after she came home exhausted, all she needs is you. she's way too tired to pleasure you so she prefers you making her feel good.

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

slow yet rough!

taking her time with you it's something she adores. she always makes sure every single inch of you is kissed and worshipped before finally fucking you. she keeps her pace slow but her thrusts are brutal; driving her strap so deep until it kisses your cervix. she snaps her hips against yours precisely, her moves calculated and made to turn you into a whining mess. if it was up to her, she'll fuck you like that every time, though she eventually increases her speed once you start begging her to do so.

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

only on those moments where she's in a rush or you two don't have enough privacy. she's not a big fan because it doesn't allow her to explore your body but she doesn't hate quickies — she never hates having sex with you —. quickies are something you two mostly do in her office or before attending somewhere.

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

for sure.

caitlyn loves trying new things and she's constantly showing you stuff she'd like to try; it'd be adorable how excited she gets if it weren't for the filthy stuff she shows you. it's not that your sex life is boring or anything like that — on the whole contrary, you two are young and full of energy — but she likes to experiment. her risks are meticulously planned, though. if you're fucking in a more public space and you think you two are going to get caught, you're wrong; she had already this whole meeting and made sure no one was going to be present — yet she would never tell you —.

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

she cums way too fast whenever she's too excited/aroused but her stamina makes up for it. she can go for 4-5 rounds before taking a break, using that time to make sure you're okay and shower you with praises.

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

just some straps and a vibrator.

she uses the vibrator on you but never makes you cum with it, quickly replacing her fingers or her mouth — wanting to feel you releasing under her proper touch —. she has two straps — a thick and long one and a smaller one — and she uses them on you and you use them on her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

just a little bit.

it's usually something she does unconsciously when she makes you wait, soft murmurs of 'be patient', 'let me enjoy your body a bit more, love', 'so needy', leaving her lips as she explores your body and makes sure you're dripping for her. she doesn't do it on purpose because she knows you won't hesitate on giving her a taste of her own medicine the next time you're topping, and this woman can't handle teasing — she tries but she always fails to keep her composure —.

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

she tries to control herself but always ends up failing.

she lets out soft sighs of pleasure at first, bitting down on her bottom lip or placing the back of her hand over her lips as a way of silencing the louder noises that threaten to slip out, though she can't hold back for much longer. eventually, those faint breaths turn into moans, not loud enough to alarm neighbors but louder than her previous sounds. she definitely gets more high-pitched and close to whining when she's about to orgasm, her sounds breathy and broken.

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

doesn't matter how many times you two have done it, she still gets all giddy.

her hands get all shaky and sweaty, her lips formed into a dumb smile as she stares at you — revealing her tooth gap —, and her cheeks flushed with a pink hue. she secretly loves the effect you always have on her and it's something that'll never fail to amaze her; the ability you have to turn her into a mess.

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

7.5 inch dark blue strap, i don't make the rules.

if we're talking about underwear, this woman wears the finest there is. she has the most beautiful, lace matching sets ever — almost all of them dark blue, of course, though she has some black ones — and also robes.

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

high.

she's obsessed with you. one glance at your sweaty, burnt out body and she immediately wants to go for another round. if you're too tired or simply not in the mood for more, she holds onto the little self control she has left and forces herself to stop being a horny little bastard — prioritizing your boundaries —.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it kinda depends on how spent she is.

if she's not so tired, she'll simply wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest; wanting you to fall asleep first before she eventually closes her eyes. if she is tired, she falls asleep pretty quickly. she'll keep you close to her body as she allows herself to relax, enjoying how the warmth of your body envelops her.

[jacaerysgf]

First everything

Summary: in desperate need to pass your upcoming math test you go to your best friend for help, your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with. Sometimes feelings just spill out and theres nothing you can do but embrace it and try to navigate through it.

modern!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

w.c: 4.2k

c.w: college au, nerdy jace, two virgins just trying to figure it out, virginity loss (both), fingering (fem), oral (fem), minor hand-job, p in v, protected sex, love confessions, glasses stay on during sex, theres also fluff guys, not proofread

a.n: for my nerdy jace warriors out there 🫡 pls lmk your thoughts !

perm jace taglist (open!) <3 @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels

you could not afford to fail this upcoming math test with you’re grade already as rocky as it is and if you didn’t nail it your grades were gonna tank.

So you decide to do the only rational thing you can think of and go stop by your best friends house who just so happens to be basically a genius to get him to tutor you. You don’t text him, having a key to his place and checking his location you can see he’s home he definitely won’t mind you just dropping by.

He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, having lived across the street from you the two of you would always stand by the bus stop together and chat and when you got older he started driving you to school. you guys would spend all the time together though you guys didn’t end up in the same college you guys happened to both get into colleges in the same city and lived right near each other.

He was perfect essentially, you try to ignore that gnawing feeling in your stomach every time you speak to him or even think about him. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember but you never tried to do anything out of fear of ruining the relationship you two have built. You also can’t get a read on if he feels the same, everything you two have ever done has been platonic, cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, having sleepovers, but you can shake the feeling of wanting to be more, maybe he was thinking the same way but you had no clue.

The apartment is quiet when you enter, when you call his name and there’s no response you think for a second maybe he went out and left his phone? but that’s not like him at all. until you walk towards his bathroom and you can hear the shower running and let out a sigh of relief as you begin to set up your stuff in the living room and order some take out for the two of you on your phone.

busying yourself on your phone you don’t even hear the shower turn off or the door open until you hear the soft thumps on the floor of his footsteps and when you look up the two of you gasp at one another. With water dripping down his chest and a firm hand places on the towel around his waist, his glasses all fogged up and his face hot red you feel like you might pass out.

“I’m so sorry oh my god i had no clue you were coming i haven't checked my phone um oh god.” You can barely pay attention to his rambling as you can’t take your eyes off him. Since when was he toned? oh and the towel is low enough you can see his v line. NO! You shake your head as you find yourself heating up, “no no its my fault Jace i never texted you i just thought i would show up um.. I’m so sorry i should have texted.”

He scratches the back of his head as he begins to move his way to his room, “no its okay you can show up any time i just, um i uh let me go get dressed.” With that he quickly rushes away without another word his ears and face blaringly red. when the door shuts and you’re alone once again you lean against the couch and take a couple deep breaths. you cannot be thinking about him like this right now. Your thighs press together unconsciously as the memory of him was still so fresh in your mind.

You quickly stand and rush to his bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to snap yourself out of it. he’s your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with and today will fill your fantasies for the next decade. You manage to get yourself back on the couch and run a hand down your face as you try to calm your racing heart and mind. Its fine its cool its just a normal thing people shower and they just so happen to get naked in the shower its not weird to see your best friend shirtless no its not.

he walks back into the room and sits down on the couch next to you, now dressed in a white t-shirt and some sweatpants, his glasses free of fog but his hair drips onto his shoulders and shirt making some parts of it see through. when you look closely you can even still see his ears are a bright red. “is everything good? its not like you to just show up out of the blue.” you are thankful he’s acting like that did not just happen, or maybe you’re just overthinking it and its not a big deal.

“i need to trade brains with you this Friday at 11 am.” his beautiful laugh fills your ears as he raises his brows at you, “you’re finally admitting I'm smarter than you?” You playfully huff and push his shoulder lightly as he smiles at you. “you’re way better at math then me, i need help Jace please.” you press your hands together in a plea and he taps his chin as if he’s in thought. “I don’t know, what do i get in return?” You pout at him and scoot a bit closer, “you get to hang out with your gorgeous smart and talented best friend?” He blows raspberry's and looks up at the ceiling turning himself away from you. “and i bought take out.” “deal.”

He is a great help, though he’s a history major he’s still places in a math level higher than you and he’s able to guide you though everything you’re struggling with ease. Its usually so easy to ignore how you feel about him but tonight is different. You don't know if its hormones or if there's something in the air but you can’t stop staring at him thinking about him. The way he bites on the top of his pen when he’s in thought, when his forehead creases while he’s checking over your work or listening to you, the way he moves his hands while he talks and explains the problems and the solutions you can’t even stop looking at him while he’s eating.

This was bad. very bad. but at least you managed to get the information he’s told you poured into your head and with his notes you’re sure to ace the test. After a couple hours of studying you two decided to put on a movie but you can’t even cuddle up next to him like you normally would instead choosing to lay on the other side of the couching praying he doesn’t ask about you’re odd behavior.

You can’t help but continue to look at him throughout the movie barely even looking at the screen. he has such a nice side profile. At one point he glances at you and catches your eye so you quickly turn away from him but he sits up and pauses the movie, turning to you with concern laced in his eyes. “Okay spit it out what's wrong?” you. you shrug and try to play it off like nothing, you certainly can’t tell him what's really bothering you. “I’m just worried about the test.” “the you i know would have stopped worrying about the test as soon as you closed that textbook.” you let out a shaky sigh and he moves to sit next to you, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes desperately. “you can always tell me anything you know that right?”

not this. you can’t tell him this. as much as you want to. Yet your heart aches at the thought of not being able to kiss him at the thought of not spending yet another day another minute being his and him being yours. he grabs your hands and his voice is hushed laced with care, “please.”

you cave.

“I'm in love with you.”

You watch him freeze and you take a deep breath as you look down at your connected hands. “i know this is really sudden but i cant hide this any longer. i think I've loved you since the second i met you and i cant keep continuing to pretend like I'm not. If you don’t feel the same that's fine we can just move on and pretend like this never happened.” you let out a fake laugh and a couple shaky breaths as you get off your chest your best kept secret. When he doesn’t say anything you look at his face to see his glossy covered eyes and red tinted face. “Please say something.”

You can feel his hands tighten around yours as he lets out a shaky breath. “I'm so in love with you i feel like i'm gonna throw up.” you laugh as a wave of fresh air washes over you, he grins and lets out his own laugh as a lone tear runs down his face. “fuck this is not how i thought tonight would go.” You don’t know how long the two of you were sitting there just laughing and smiling at each other but it was just so peaceful.

You end up cupping his face and he freezes his breath caught in his throat. “Can i kiss you?” “Please.” The kiss is soft and slow but its everything you’ve every dreamed of. His lips are as soft as they've always looked, he’s clearly inexperienced but you are too and you figure it out together. You feel like you’re not close enough to him, so you end up separating from him and he watches with wide eyes as you sit yourself in his lap. His hands quickly move to grasp your waist as he gulps, you can feel his hardness poking at you through your shorts and he lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to its just,” he’s quickly cut off with a moan as you pull him into another kiss.

You can feel yourself aching in your stomach, yet you can’t bring yourself to do more until you pull away from his lips. a long string of salvia that connects you two snaps as you begin to speak. “I want to go further, if only you want to.” His chest moves quickly up and down as he tries to catch his breath, he blinks rapidly as he looks at you with swollen lips, one of his hands moves to readjust his glasses. “I do its just, i don’t know what i'm doing.” the two of you softly laugh as you press your forehead against his and he lightly rubs his nose against yours. “I don’t know what I'm doing either, we’ll figure it out.”

His hands around your waist tighten as he places one last kiss on your lips before he stands, you squeal lightly as he keeps you firmly around his waist walking towards his room. “You could put me down you know?” He places a kiss on your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t want to.”

Once in the bedroom he lightly places you down on the bed and he stays standing up unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “do i like take off my clothes um.” You stand and the two of you look at one another. “Why don’t we both undress? or do you want to undress each other?” At your words his eyes light up and his ears couldn’t get any redder, he clearly likes the idea a lot so you grab his hands and place them on your shirt. “You can take it off.” He nods and lets out a shaky breath as he lifts your shirt over your head.

If you had known this was going to happen you would have chosen a cuter bra but you instead stand in your basic skin tone bra, heat rises on your face lightly with embarrassment but the look of amazement on his face has you feeling confident. You grab his hands once more and slide them to your waist where you help him tug down your pants and you stand in just your underwear in front of him. His mouth opens in amazement as his eyes dart all over you. “you’re so beautiful.” “shut up.” “im serious. you’re the most beautiful women ive ever seen. im the luckiest guy in the world.”

You place your hands on his neck as you place a light kiss on his lips. “you’re so sweet.” He shakes his head and his hands cup your face eyes full of love. “im only telling the truth.” Your hands move to the neck of his shirt and grip it. “Your turn.” His bright red face somehow only gets redder when you slide your hands down his chest to grab the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head. “when did you start working out?” He lets out a light moan as your hands drag down his stomach and rub around his chest. “when i moved here uhh the umm the complex has a gym.” You lightly um as your hands reach the waistband of his pants and you begin to toy with the elastic.

He expects you to take off his pants move back to sit on the bed but instead your hands goes inside the waistband to cup his budge from his briefs. The sound he lets out is not what you had been expecting, it sounds something closer to a whine as he questions you, “what are you doing?” You grin at him as his eyes dart all over your face. “Can i touch you?” He pants lightly as your hands already begins to move slight and he gulps. “shouldn’t i touch you? or umm oh i don’t know fuck please.” his head falls to your neck and he begins pecking light kisses on the skin there as your hand slips into his briefs and wraps around him.

He throbs in your hands, you lightly jerk him to see how he responds and you can hear a pleased moan as you continue to pump him in your hand using the precum that drips out of his tip as a lubricant you find a steady pace. He bites into the side of your neck and you let out a shaky moan as his grip tightens on your waist. you can feel wetness soak your skin whether it be his sweat or tears you have no clue but the only thing you can focus on his whines and moans in your ear. “you’re so good fuck fuck.” he must be getting close because you can feel him shaking but he suddenly grabs your hands and pulls them away from him as he pants.

“did i do something wrong? im sorry.” he quickly shakes his head, “no no of course not i just don’t want to um cum right now.” you tilt your head in confusion, why would he not want to cum? until he turns his head and even his neck has turned red and a light bulb flicks over your head and you let out an sound of understanding and grab his sweatpants to pull them down until they hit the floor.

you both stand face to face in just your underwear, you watch him eye your chest and you reach your hands up to unclip your bra. you slowly unclip it and he watches as it drags down your arms and you toss it lightly on the floor. you sit down on the bed and you motion for him to join you. he does and he warily watches your face for approval which you grant before he cups your breasts with a shuttered breath. You can tell somethings bothering him though, theres a look in his eyes that says somethings wrong but before you can question it he speaks.

“can i touch you?” its the same question you had throw at him but it gives you butterflies, you wonder if it had done the same to him. you spread your legs and he stares at the spot between your legs where you’re soaked. theres a huge spot on your practically ruined panties where you’ve begun to leak, theres even some residual wetness on your inner thighs. “fuck.” he licks his lips and looks up at you and your flushed face. “don’t get cocky jace.” he laughs lightly as his fingers press against your slit from the fabric and you let out a moan. he watches for your reactions as he begins to rub you through the fabric, “Jace, please.”

his fingers shake as they push the fabric aside and he touches your folds. “oh fuck you’re so fucking wet.” he just continues to rub at your skin, it feels nice but you both know you need more. “how many should i,,” he trails off, unsure of how to word the question. “two, just to start, you can add another when i tell you.” he nods and slowly pushes two fingers into you.

his fingers feel a lot better than yours do they're thicker and they're longer reaching a bit more than you can and your hands dig into his shoulders. “good?” you hiss lightly for a second as his hands wiggle lightly before nodding. “yes move please.” he quickly listens, pulling his fingers out before slowly pushing them back in methodically. He feeds off every sound you let out and moves quicker as your face contorts in pleasure. it feels good but its not enough and when you tell him he can add another he finger he looks at you unsure but when you reassure him its fine he does and the burn it adds satisfies the itch that you know can only be scratched once he’s inside of you.

when he pulls his fingers out before you can cum you whine but he just smiles at you “lift your hips for me.” you do and he slides your underwear down your legs exposing you fully to him. He takes a second to admire you before your eyes widen as he gets down on his knees, “i thought guys didn’t like that.” you try to tell him but he just shrugs, “i bet i will.”

he kisses you inner thighs slowly working his way up to your slit where he pauses before he lightly licks at your folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. your hand finds it way to his hair as he warily licks every drop of you he can get. when you tug at his hair he groans, you try your best to avoid his glasses which sit pushed up into his hair. Your face contorts with pleasure as you throw your head back. he’s messy and clearly unsure of what he’s doing but it doesn’t matter to you as he brings you closer to your release. you can feel your stomach burning as he suddenly pulls away and looks at you, he looks gorgeous with his hair a mess and his lips glossy.

“could you show me um where uh,,,” your brows furrow in confusion until you laugh and sit up. “its fine here.” you grab his hand and use his finger to push around inside of you until his finger presses against your clit and your moan. you suddenly fall back once again with your hands playing with your breasts while one of his hand plays with your clit and his other on your knee to keep your legs parted while he tongue works his way inside of you. you can no longer ignore the burning in your stomach as it becomes harder and harder to push down. “Jace I'm gonna oh fuck.” the grip you have on his hair tightens as you hiss when he continues to work you till you shake with pleasure and you essence drips into his mouth down his jaw and neck.

He shakily stands and licks his lips seemingly not caring that he was a mess. “do i-“ you pull him down on top of you and press your lips against him in a feverish kiss which he returns, “i want to be on top.” his eyes widen, “will that be good for you?” you nod rapidly eager to feel him inside of you and your eyes practically turn into hearts when he stands and pulls down his briefs, his hardness slapping his stomach you barely get the chance to admire him before he rummages around in his bedside table pulling out a clearly new box of condoms.

he struggles to open them slight with his shaky hands but manages to open it and grab one. when he looks back at you and your amused expression he looks down at the box with embarrassment. “Aegon got it for me. he was trying to tease me.” you grab him to sit on the bed and get him to lay back against the headboard while you grabbed the packet out of his hands. “then ill have to thank him later.”

you open the condom with your teeth before slowly sliding it down his length causing him to hiss and close his eyes to calm himself. the two of you look at each other as you sit up, “are you good?” he nods and lightly thanks you, “are you?” you also nod and you grab him to position him into your opening while he pulls his glasses back down to his face. with one last look you begin to sink down onto him.

you put your forehead against his and the two of you shudder with pleasure the lower and lower you get. once you get as low as you can go you pause and the two of you take a few moments to readjust. his glasses fog up as he catches your lips in his, when your hips move slightly up then back down he bites at your lip before throwing his head back and whines slightly while your mouth lulls open in pleasure.

You two find a simply rhythm with you moving up and down. sweat covering your bodies as the two of you sing in pleasure, his glasses are basically completely covered now with fog and you take them off his face before shoving your lips messily against his as his hands grip your hips to help you move up and down on him. the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and moans and whines fill the hot room. he throbs inside of you as he hits spots you've never been able to reach, your head falls into the cave of his neck neck as you feel yourself close. “Jace fuck you’re so good fuck.” he whines and bites your shoulder again “please cum please Jace fuck wanna feel it.” he cries into your neck as he nods, “i love you i love you so much.” “i love you too Jace.” when he feels you release around him it pushes him over the edge where he's shooting his load into his condom.

the two of you fall completely on top of each other in a sweaty sticky mess. you catch your breaths unable to think straight. no words are spoken for awhile until you sit up lightly and push the hair away from his sweaty face. “we should have done that sooner.” the two of you laugh as you peck his lips. “i really love you a lot Jace.” he beams and grabs his glasses to fiddle them back onto his face. “i love you too.” you hum and kiss his cheek. “as nice as you being inside me is i really have to pee.” the two of you hiss as you pull away and he sits up to watch you stumble your way towards the bathroom. he tosses the condom away and he stands to get a cup of water not bothering to put on any of his clothes.

he hands you a glass when you walk out of the bathroom and you chug it down before looking at yourself with disgust. “i need a shower.” “you can use it i don't mind.” you roll your eyes and slap his shoulder much to his confusion. “that's when you’re supposed to say then lets take one together dummy.” his face flushes for the millionth time that night as you walk away and sigh as you turn to see him not following you. “come on you’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” he downs his glass and quickly hurries to follow you as you giggle.

[sunflower1experiment]

Poppy (Risks Prequel)

Prev

Offering those poppy flowers as a treaty, it was cruel, but he assumed you wouldn’t do anything naive again…but to have them thrown at his face. Well, he was amused honestly, again…he held no grudges.

Flowers? He actually got you flowers, he seemed so proud of himself too, the irony to him being proud of something for once. "Poppy flowers?"

The scientist nods as if to expect your reaction of overjoy with his gestures of affectionate labors, it honestly made the tension in the room heighten while he still held the flowers. After the argument yesterday?

==

"Harley they are just children! They shouldn't be doing adult stuff! Just grab some criminals or people who could be dying- something!"

It made Harley scoff, for you to even suggest that kind of idea all the while they had such an amazing opportunity to create bigger bodies and more toys accessible or simply create life! Naive, very naive. "Elliot Ludwig was able to save his daughter, we should..."

"No, Elliot created Poppy! We don't know if- the accident...You can't hurt them. Please Harley, you already hurt prototype and Theo." He looks back at your pleading gaze, but you didn't understand the bigger picture here. "Everything I do, I'm doing for Playtime."

"No you're not! You only care for fame, money and proving those other scientists wrong." You look away and hug yourself, backing up when he tries to hold your face. "Please listen when I tell you this, my dear."

"What is there to listen to?"

"You simply don't understand, you're too sentimental. They're just orphans-"

"Sawyer- I was an orphan! You all knew that! Elliot hired me so I can work with the children! Not hurt them!" You push him aside after your outburst, walking away with anger boiling inside you.

==

Such outbursts shouldn't happen again, he gently pushes the poppies in your hand. "I'm sorry my dear, I should have considered your feelings through all of this. That is why I'm sending you-"

You move away and drop the flowers, "Don't try to insult my intelligence, what did you do to them."

"Who...." There was an unbearable moment of silence between you two, Harley wanted to believe that you didn't mean them. "Experiment...1322...?"

"NO! Kevin, Jack and Matthew!" You shove him again, now letting angry tears fall down from your already red puffy eyes. "You told me you wouldn't hurt them! I told you! They were just babies! Why are they working with those bastards who laugh at their pain!?"

Harley hugs your shaken form, listening to you sob against his chest, and he understood why Leith said he shouldn't have gotten so attached to you. "You're too emotional for this project....We have to send you back."

"......Why? Because Pierre said so?"

"My dear, you're simply, a threat to...myself and this project." You move from him after he says that.

"You had the audacity to give me these flowers. Knowing you ruined any chance of us ever clicking."

Harley groans then he starts yelling, "What can I do!? Huh? I loved you! Yet your face shows revulsion! You cannot handle the fact that I wish to play scientist for one second-"

"A scientist wouldn't harm others for his selfish needs! If you really love me, you'd stop hurting the children! Stop being such a damn fool!" The man just slams his hand down, you flinch, and he stares you in the eyes afterwards.

"What I'm doing is something your sentimental mind cannot understand...I've entertained your silly emotions long enough, you are dismissed and forbidden from seeing the children and the bigger toys... I know what you say to them. 'Stay brave' 'Stay strong' 'Don't let revenge be your only way to push forward' or my favorite 'You deserve better'. Do you think I enjoy being cruel?"

At first, you didn't answer his question, yet when he got close and caressed your cheek. His eyes meet yours and he could see the fear in your eyes, the anger that follows after and then the utter despair. "Of course you do, I love you, but you do not hold such regards because you think I'm cruel."

When the discussion ends, you left in silence. Stella walks over and tries to reach out, you simply pull your hand away when she does, not wanting to spare her a glance. "When things go to hell, I won't be here to clean his mess or comfort him.."

CW, slight NSFW// Minors do not interact.

Naked bodies, kissing, small forms of affection, arguments and slight signs of emotional abuse

(It's how I depict Harley Sawyer, he seems like the one who desires affirmation and gratification but will deny such affections when he feels he failed, knows he failed or can sense disappointment from others)

All those years you both spent together, when you first met it was of course a form a normalcy, curt talks, exchanging ideas and then experimenting on ways to help the toys become more marketable.

Then he made the first move and got declined, it was a simple decline that didn't affect him at first but then he asked again when you both became more comfortable. That was about five months later, you accepted. Then explained to him your reasoning for declining him, "I wasn't really sure what dynamic we had so I wasn't planning on risking our jobs."

You get it, and he was well enthralled with the idea of having a better half so you both hit it off well, chattering, talking about dreams. Sometimes you both would spend time over each other's homes, he lived in a nice house, it was obvious he really caters to his work in his spare time.

Meanwhile you enjoyed your comfortable apartment life, housing isn't cheap and at the moment you were comfortable with a couch, two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen lounge room with a tv. Harley didn't mind either, in fact he ended up spending the night.

He was, simply enamored with you, your touches, his hands intertwining with yours the way you'd lean into his touch. Even when all you both did was admire each other's bodies, there was something about it from Harley that made you feel special.

When you made breakfast, he'd hug you with his tall frame looming over your frame even if you both were tall or if you were short, he was somehow finding a way to hug you by the waist. He kisses your cheek, jaw and then neck before leaning on you, it was comfortable.

While at work you both barely showed affection, he did find random ways to be caring, covering the corners of desks for example. Then you'd return the favor by grabbing him coffee, his favorite being a cappuccino latte with cream and brown sugar. Simple work partner stuff, but he had an ego, showing off his works, you'd nod in approval and then show him ways to do better.

While his ego was there, he still listened to you, but you'd tell him to take credit for it because you knew he could repay you later. A single chaste kiss on the lips or more if he was really thankful, it honestly bemused you how this so called "doctor" scientist was so fascinated by anatomy when it came to intimacy.

"Explain this to me, I recently tried to handle prototype, but he simply wouldn't cooperate. So I gave him a shock." Harley watches you freeze, ".....Harley you bought him to life, you...it's amazing but you cannot just hurt him for not bending to your will."

Harley scowls at your warning, "Spare me the sentiments, the prototype is nothing but a machine experiment."

You grab the file and leave to go see this prototype. "I'll talk to him"

When you opened the door and spoke with the prototype you at first thought it'd be terrifying but...this creature was simply scared and confused. Smart too, your gentle voice eased its weary hand. Then you point to the glass, it taps to signal its knowing knowledge of the see through glass. "I'll try to tell him to stop with the electrocution, okay?"

"dO nOt wOrRy mX- you simply want to help your= lOveR coRrect?"

You nod slowly, blinking in shock. "How did you..."

"yOuR eyes dilated when i uSeD h1s vO1ce."

Manipulative, just like Harley in a strange way...

When you leave the room, Harley was leaning against the wall. He then left in silence, "Harley...." You reach but he moves away, "Come on, you know I love your work-"

"Yet you hate how I handle it right?"

you sigh, of course Sawyer is offended. "No, I simply want you to not be cruel to them. You can depict what I mean however you want, you'll just hurt your own feelings that way."

He scoffs out a chuckle, "Of course, to think I actually let my guard down." You pause then hold his hand.

"Hey...." Harly pauses, not looking back to hide his knowing smirk before he turns with a tired sad gaze. "I'm sorry, you can visit mine and we can have some comfort food okay...?"

He nods then caresses your face, "Thanks for taking the risk for me hun, I'm sorry if I upset you.." he nods again, accepting your apology. When it should be him apologizing to you!

Next

[arrowthrewme]

Hello! Once again, I cannot believe that my three characters have been loved by so many people (or that I've already gained 20 something followers!!!) thank you <33

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, male reader intended

Green Green Dress

Yan Jock, who you meet during his practice. You volenteered to bring water to the school's rugby team. He was the team's leader, praising the team for their hard work.

Yan Jock, who stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. He swears he felt his heart stop and start in one second. It was weird...

Yan Jock, who introduces himself soothly ("Stephen at your service, delivery boy ;)") all while his heart beats inside his heart like war drum

Yan Jock, who, from that day on, invites you to his table and sits next to you during lunch (you sadly don't share any classes). He chats to you about practice, his friends and family and whatever else he finds interesting enough

Yan Jock, who you form a friendship with! Well, at least that's how you view it. Stephen views it as a challenge and a punishment. No boy should look so attractive! So why do his eyes wander your body like he does the girls in the school...?

Yan Jock, who is just a dumb little buffed up puppy who is realising that maybe the way he looks at muscular men isn't fully platonic

Yan Jock, who, as you get closer, starts to treat you like he did the past girls he's dated. Giving you his jersey, putting his arm around your shoulders, asking for a good luck hug (it's supposed to be a kiss, but he can't :c)

Yan Jock, who really loves dancing. It's a basically fun exercise. He's not good in the professional sense, but he's still good! (100% asks you to dance when you two start dating, maybe even before)

Yan Jock, who glares dagers at anyone who approaches you with romantic intent (mind you, everything that isn't formal is considered romantic intent by him) before wrapping his arm around you and kindly (threatiningly) tells the other person to fuck off.

Yan Jock, who isn't above punching the person, but doesn't want you to be mad at him

Yan Jock, who melts when you two finally kiss. It wasn't at a big moment. No big game. No party. Just you two walking around your hometown. He leaned down to hear you better and you had enough of the dancing around he's been doing for months and kissed him. Safe to say he will be asking for kisses every day (he's not taking no for an answer)

Yan Jock, who physically holds you back from going somewhere. He's stronger than you. A lot stronger. So when he doesn't want you going somewhere, he will throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and happily skip away to cuddle under the bleachers. Stephen is the type of partner who asks to come with you to the bathroom

Yan Jock, who hates when someone yells at him or expresses their disappointment. He can't handle it. Stephen has been the "Golden boy" for so long. He can't lose that. So, if you ever want him to let go of you just use that! Don't worry, a little kiss on the lips will cheer the jock right up!

Yan Jock, who has the most perfect ass. Some of the girls at your school are jealous. And some guys question their sexualities because of it. And you? Oh, you're enjoying the whole damn bakery every day (not like Stephen minds)

Yan Jock, who, when meeting your parents, acts all anxious and worried, but that doesn't last long. 10 minutes later, he is talking with your dad about all types of sports while complimenting your mother's decor choices. He knocks it out of the park! You knew he would! (Stephen is definitely asking your dad for your hand in marriage. That's not negotiable for him.)

Yan Jock, who daydreams about having the picture-perfect family with you after school. White picket fence, a good home in a friendly neighbourhood with a huge backyard where your two kids and dog can run around in. Oh, it's the dream!

Yan Jock, who will carry you through life. He's trained all his life!...If only that emo nerd you insist on being friends with would just piss off already, then it would all be perfect...

[simpjaes]

how about when the hyung line is just too big for ur little tight cunt? need the mtl please bcs I think it'll be HOT!

hyung line + cock too big, pussy too little syndrome ™

warning: size kink, reader is described as small compared to each member, use of words like: little, tiny, small, tight, kinda dub con. note: this is not an mtl, it's just a drabble for each hyung line hottie.

★ heeseung:

Fuck.

Heeseung knew he was bigger than average but...fuck. When he brought you home from the party he honestly expected you to be able to take it. All of it in one go, really. But no. Barely half of his cock is in you and you're shaking. Clinging to him with a pained look on your face, taking in deep breaths to adjust only to moan out of pain when he tries to push in a little more.

It's kind of driving him fucking wild. Especially in the way he's used to hearing girls moan and groan about how perfectly sized he is, about how big and painful it can be. You though, you can barely fucking take it, unlike those other girls.

Goddamn.

"Yeah." He starts, looking you straight in your teary eyes as he painfully presses in further. "Gonna open that pussy up for me, aren't you?"

You frantically nod, feeling his cock reach so deep inside of you, feeling his girth nearly tear you apart. It's like with each little push, he hits a wall that should tell him to stop, but he only pushes further. Past the block and penetrating your soft and insanely tense walls.

"Tiny." He grits his teeth, pushing, pushing, pushing until he's stuffed his entire length in you. "So fucking tiny."

☆ jay:

"Just a little more," Jay coos at you, rubbing your waist as he slowly presses in. "Hold onto me." He knows well enough that it doesn't feel good for you. Not yet at least. And when he watches you shake your head, trying hard to breathe through the feeling of his thick and darkened head pushing and prodding you open, he can't help but continue to talk you through it. "No?" He whispers in his own half-moan, still pressing in, inch by inch. "I'm already almost in baby, you can take it." He's right about it too, seeing as how you've taken it before. Given, that was only once considering this is only the second time you've hooked up with him. You're not sure why you called him of all people, remembering how difficult it was to get his full cock inside of you last time and the soreness that came after. Then again, maybe it's because of his consistent texting since that night. Not even sexting either. Just gentle conversation, interesting conversation. Like maybe this doesn't need to be a hook-up sooner or later. Who knows? And it continues like this. He presses an inch in, pauses, lets your tight cunt jerk him off, then he tells you to breathe and pushes in another inch. You're so wet too, he's practically obsessed. Never has a pussy so small taken him in full like this, then again, it's not like he's ever been with someone this tight and this fucking tiny. Obsessed is right. No matter how fucking wet you get for him, it doesn't make the slide any easier, even when you're relaxed, you're still so tight around him. Just like now, where he can finally move and fuck you without holding himself back. Which is hard to do, mind you. You cling to him through each painful and bruising thrust, and he lets you. Flexing every muscle in his body so you have something to really hold on to.

And god the way you moan through the pain. He would make you cum in an instant, he thinks, with the way you start moving your own hips to match his rhythm.

The wet sound squelching, like music to his ears especially when paired with your needy whines. "Feels so good, doesn't it baby?"

★ sunghoon:

All day. All fucking day Sunghoon could do this if that's what it takes. Three weeks since you started dating, the first time you had his cock in your hand was also the first time you decided to be afraid to let him fuck you. Something so huge cannot naturally fit inside of you without him blatantly impaling you and probably landing you in the hospital. But god, does he know how to get you horny. With those pretty fingers offering just not enough to be satisfied. With his tongue swiping perfectly but never being filled to full capacity. It's the first time you've even considered letting him stick his dick in you, and arguably, you see why you avoided it until now when he finally does start sliding in. It's not that the thickness hurts, it's just that fact that the fucking slide never stops. You could have sworn he had his whole dick in you ten seconds ago, considering he fucked himself in and out of you a few times before sliding in more. The reach is deeper than you've ever felt. A sharp pain hitting you right in the center of the gut only for him to manage to push in even further. You swear he's breaking something in you and he isn't even actually fucking you just yet. "There you go." Sunghoon coos once he finally bottoms out in you, reaching his hand forward to trace his fingers along your lips. "See? You can take it, love." For just a second, you believed him. But then he started fucking moving. God, you're seeing stars and planets and heaven and hell all in one thrust. He pulls his hips back so far just to slam into you. He knows it hurts too, but he can't be gentle when you're looking like this. So small lying under him, just fucking taking it.

☆ jake:

Jake barely realized you were in pain before he felt your fingernails scratching down his back and you whimpered out a small "take it out." He pulled back to look at you in shock, rutting his hips back and forth into your swollen and glistening hole. It's only been a few seconds since he pushed in, and it's the first time he's ever been asked to take it out?! For you though, you were expecting him to take it slow. Not get between your legs and fucking sink into you without so much as letting you adjust to his size before pounding it into your cervix. He does as he's told though, sliding out just as painfully as he slid in before gripping his cock and holding it just at your entrance. "What? Why?" He asks, not realizing he had knocked the breath out of himself stuffing such a cock in that tight space. "You're...big," You look away from him, feeling embarrassed that you really just told him to fucking pull out. "Too big." Only now does Jake smile, a glint in his eye growing dark and even more aroused than he already was.

"Oh, yeah?" He smiles, teasing your hole with the head of his cock. "You don't think you can take it?" He continues, pressing right back into you and now relishing in that small, tight heat you wish he'd be gentle with. You shake your head frantically, opening your mouth in a silent sob as he uses you, slamming in and out. In, out, in, out. "You already are, babe." He grunts, hunching over to attach his lips to your nipple. "Taking it so fucking well too." You're not sure why that makes you feel proud, but it does.

[aspenmissing]

Hello my dear, I hope you're doing well <3

Could you write the Arcane characters in a alternative AU. Where Reader and they were playing as their Arcane characters?

Maybe they are in an interview, answering questions about the relationship of their and Readers relationship.

And the cherry of the top: Reader and the Arcane character are together in real life. Like beeing married or getting in a relationship during she shot for season 1 / season 2.

If you have any questions, ask me ^-^

ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5142 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴀᴜ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ! ꜱᴏ ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʙᴀᴋᴀɪ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ!! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ! ɪ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴜᴄᴋᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴄᴛᴏʀ!ᴀᴜ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ!!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

JAYCE

The camera light blinks red, signaling that the interview is live. You shift slightly in your seat, crossing one leg over the other as you glance at Jayce beside you. He looks effortlessly handsome, dressed in a sharp, casual blazer with his signature boyish grin already in place. His fingers drum lightly against his knee, a telltale sign that he’s trying to contain his excitement—or nerves.

The interviewer, a cheerful woman in a sleek black dress, leans forward with an excited smile, the energy in the room electric with anticipation.

"Alright! We're here with Jayce Talis himself, and our lovely leading star, Y/N L/N!" she announces, her enthusiasm infectious. "You two have been the heart of Arcane, bringing Jayce and Y/N’s character to life in ways that fans cannot stop talking about. But what they really want to know is—what’s it like working together, especially since you’re a couple in real life?"

You glance at Jayce, raising a brow. He smirks, as if silently daring you to answer first.

"It's terrible," you deadpan, leaning toward the interviewer conspiratorially. "He steals my snacks on set. It’s honestly unbearable."

Jayce lets out a deep, hearty laugh, shaking his head as he dramatically throws his hands up. "Okay, okay—first of all, that's not true. I ask before I steal them."

"Do you, though?" You tilt your head, feigning deep thought, as if replaying all the times he’s casually reached into your snack stash without a second thought.

The interviewer bursts into laughter. "Oh, I can tell this is going to be fun!" She composes herself, still smiling. "So, no real set drama between you two?"

Jayce grins, stretching an arm along the back of your chair as he leans in slightly. "Nah, if anything, working together just makes it better. We have this natural rhythm, so even the heavy scenes feel easier to navigate. And, I mean, getting to kiss your real-life partner on screen? Not the worst job perk."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Yeah, except when we have to do, like, fifteen takes of the same kiss scene because somebody keeps messing up his lines."

Jayce places a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Hey, maybe I just wanted an excuse for extra takes!"

The interviewer gasps dramatically, eyes wide with faux shock. "Oh, so it was on purpose?"

Jayce shrugs, sending a cheeky wink toward the camera. "I plead the fifth."

You shake your head with a laugh, nudging him lightly. "This is what I deal with."

The interviewer grins. "Fans love your chemistry on screen, but was it ever hard to separate your characters' relationship from your real one?"

You hum, considering the question. "Not really? Jayce and I, our characters have their own arcs, and we’ve both been acting for years. So when we’re on set, we’re them. But once the cameras stop rolling…" You glance at Jayce, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’re just us."

Jayce nods, his gaze warm as he looks at you. "Yeah, exactly. Though, I won’t lie, there were a few intense scenes where I’d have to check in afterward—make sure we were good, y'know?"

You smile, reaching for his hand under the table and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Always."

The interviewer watches the interaction, smiling softly. "That’s honestly so sweet. Now, I have to ask—what was the most difficult scene for you two to film together?"

Jayce exhales dramatically. "Okay, so there’s this scene—and I swear I still have nightmares about it—where Y/N's character had to slap me."

You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth as you nod. "Oh, yeah. That one."

The interviewer’s eyes light up. "Wait, tell me more!"

Jayce groans, running a hand down his face. "So, we rehearsed it a few times, and Y/N was so good at pulling back and making it look real without actually hurting me. But on the actual take, our director was like, 'Just go for it, make it believable!' and—well, I got decked."

You can’t help but laugh at the memory. "In my defense, it was believable."

"It was too believable!" Jayce exclaims, throwing his hands up while the interviewer cackles. "My cheek was stinging for, like, two hours! And the whole crew was trying so hard not to laugh."

You grin. "But hey, we got the shot in one take."

"At my expense," Jayce mutters, but his smile never falters.

The interviewer wipes at her eyes, still giggling. "That’s amazing. Okay, last question—who's the better actor?"

Without hesitation, you and Jayce both immediately point at each other.

"Her," Jayce says firmly.

"Him," you insist at the same time.

The interviewer gasps, clutching her chest. "A humble couple, I see!"

Jayce smirks, tapping his chin. "Or maybe just equally biased."

You nudge him again, shaking your head with a grin. "Fine, I’ll take that."

The interview wraps up soon after, the crew signalling that the cameras have stopped rolling. As the lights dim slightly, Jayce reaches for your hand again under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"That was fun," he murmurs, voice warm with affection.

You smile, tilting your head toward him. "Yeah. But you do steal my snacks, and we will talk about that later."

Jayce chuckles, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Looking forward to it, sweetheart."

And with that, the two of you walk off set, hand in hand, leaving the audience even more in love with your off-screen romance than ever before.

VIKTOR

The red carpet shimmered under the brilliance of flashing cameras, a sea of photographers, journalists, and excited fans stretching as far as the eye could see. The energy of the Arcane: Season 2 premiere was electric, a pulsating heartbeat of excitement and anticipation.

Y/N stood at the center of it all, draped in an ensemble that had already set social media ablaze. The way the fabric clung and cascaded, the subtle shimmer under the dazzling lights—it was impossible not to feel like royalty. The stylists had outdone themselves, but Y/N carried it effortlessly, exuding a natural elegance that made it seem as if they belonged in the center of all this grandeur.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed journalist from one of the top entertainment networks, smiled warmly as she extended the microphone. “Y/N, it’s such a pleasure to see you tonight! You were incredible in the first season—your performance was breathtaking. And, I have to say, your chemistry with Viktor’s actor was just electric. The world was obsessed. What was it like working with him again for Season 2?”

Y/N laughed softly, eyes instinctively flickering toward the other side of the carpet. Amid the throng of celebrities and flashing bulbs, they easily spotted him—Viktor. He stood slightly hunched, engaged in conversation with another reporter, his cane in hand as always. The crisp lines of his tailored suit hugged his frame in all the right ways, the dark fabric contrasting against the golden hues of the evening.

For a second, Y/N just watched him. The way he subtly adjusted his weight onto his cane. The way his lips curled into an amused smirk as he responded to a question. The way his expressive, golden-brown eyes flickered with an intelligence and warmth that had drawn them in from the very beginning—on-screen and off.

Then they snapped back to reality, offering the interviewer a knowing smile.

“Oh, he’s a dream to work with,” Y/N said smoothly, the warmth in their voice unmistakable. “He’s so incredibly dedicated to his craft—so much so that sometimes, I forget where the acting ends, and he begins. He brings so much depth and emotion to the character. There’s this unspoken trust between us, you know? It makes everything feel natural.”

The interviewer nodded enthusiastically, her grin widening. “That’s amazing to hear! And the fans absolutely loved your interactions last season. Do you feel that trust made the more intense scenes easier?”

Y/N was about to answer when a subtle shift in the energy of the crowd caught their attention. The murmurs grew, the camera flashes intensified—something was happening.

And then they felt him before they even saw him.

That familiar presence at their side. The faintest brush of fabric against their arm. The warm, smooth timbre of a voice they knew better than their own.

“I certainly hope so,” Viktor’s voice cut in smoothly, effortlessly slipping into the conversation as he came to stand beside them.

The crowd reacted instantly. The excited murmurs swelled into a buzz, camera shutters clicking furiously as fans and photographers alike scrambled to capture the moment.

Y/N turned slightly, tilting their head up to meet his gaze.

Viktor was already watching them, his smirk laced with quiet amusement. His tousled auburn hair, always slightly unruly despite his best efforts, caught the light just enough to make the red hues gleam. The sharp angles of his cheekbones were softened by the way his lips curved—subtle, teasing. He exuded a quiet confidence, the kind that was effortlessly disarming.

“Otherwise,” he continued, his golden eyes glinting with mischief, “I may have to reconsider our working relationship.”

The interviewer let out a delighted laugh. “And here he is! Perfect timing.”

Y/N arched a brow, playing along. “Oh? Is that a threat?”

Viktor’s smirk deepened as he shifted closer—just enough to make the cameras go wild.

“Not at all, můj drahý,” he murmured, voice dipping into something softer, something only for them. (My dear)

Then, with practiced ease, he slipped his hand onto their waist. The touch was light—too light, like a secret meant to be shared only between them. But the placement was unmistakable. Intentional. A quiet claim.

The reaction was immediate. The flashes of cameras doubled, the crowd erupting into cheers and scattered shouts.

The interviewer, clearly living for the moment, grinned at the two of them. “Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say your on-screen and off-screen dynamic is one of the best parts of this entire event.”

Viktor exhaled a chuckle, tilting his head slightly toward Y/N. “What do you think, láska?” (Love)

Y/N pretended to consider, eyes glinting as they met his gaze. “I think,” they said, letting the words stretch, “that you’re making me blush on live television.”

Viktor feigned innocence, though the amusement in his golden-brown eyes betrayed him. “Ah, but that is not acting, is it?”

The interviewer let out a dramatic gasp. “Oh, so the chemistry is real?”

Y/N gave a slow, knowing smile, fingers ghosting over Viktor’s where they rested against their waist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The moment hung between them, charged with that same tension that had captivated audiences in Arcane—but this wasn’t scripted. This wasn’t choreographed. This was them.

And then, as if sensing the perfect beat to end on, Viktor smirked and leaned in ever so slightly. Not quite a kiss, but enough for the fans to go feral. Enough to send social media into a meltdown.

With that, he slipped his hand into theirs, subtly guiding them forward as the interviewer let out a giddy laugh.

The cameras followed their every move as they disappeared further down the red carpet, leaving the internet in flames and the entire event abuzz.

And Y/N?

Y/N just squeezed his hand, heart thrumming in time with the chaos around them.

Because, scripted or not, there was no one else they’d rather share this stage with.

JAYVIK

The studio was buzzing with energy, bright lights illuminating the set as the cameras rolled. It was one of the many press junkets for Arcane’s latest season, and the cast had been tirelessly doing interviews all day. This one, however, was different. The interviewer smirked as they looked at the three actors seated together: Viktor’s actor, Jayce’s actor, and Y/N, who played an original character introduced in the show.

“So,” the interviewer started, leaning forward with an eager grin. “There’s been quite a bit of buzz about the three of you lately. Fans have been picking up on some… interesting chemistry.”

Jayce chuckled, leaning back in his chair with that signature confidence he exuded both on and off screen. “Oh? And what kind of chemistry would that be?”

Viktor, ever the picture of quiet amusement, tapped his cane lightly against the floor. “I believe they are referring to the rather rampant speculation regarding our… ‘off-screen dynamics,’” he mused, glancing at Y/N with a knowing look.

Y/N, who had been taking a sip of their water, nearly choked. “Oh, wow. We’re diving right in, huh?” They set their bottle down, laughing softly as they exchanged looks with their co-stars. “You know, this feels like a scene straight out of a rom-com,” they added, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” the interviewer grinned. “I mean, you can’t blame the fans! The three of you have been seen spending a lot of time together outside of filming. Dinners, events… even a certain candid photo of you two”—they gestured between Viktor and Jayce—“holding hands while Y/N was sandwiched between you both.”

Jayce gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, the perils of having affectionate friends.” He turned to Y/N with a teasing grin. “I told you that hiding between us wouldn’t stop the paparazzi. You can’t escape the spotlight, darling.”

“I was cold!” Y/N defended, throwing up their hands in mock frustration. “And both of you are unfairly warm. It’s like you’re living space heaters or something.”

Viktor hummed in agreement, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “They do tend to leech our body heat, don’t they?”

Y/N rolled their eyes playfully. “You two are just trying to make me sound like a helpless stray animal.” They crossed their arms with a smirk, trying to hold back a laugh.

The interviewer, clearly enjoying the banter, leaned forward. “So, no official confirmation on this adorable ‘dynamic,’ then?”

Jayce shot Y/N a playful look, the intensity in his eyes just enough to keep the joke lighthearted. “What do you think, darling? Should we confirm, or let them keep guessing? The suspense could be delicious.”

Y/N pretended to consider for a moment, tapping a finger against their chin in mock seriousness. “Hmm. I don’t know. Viktor, what do you think?” They turned to him, their voice a little more teasing, a hint of warmth in their gaze.

Viktor smirked, his dark eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. He tilted his head slightly, tapping his cane against the floor again. “I do so enjoy a good mystery,” he said, his tone low and smooth.

The interviewer groaned dramatically, throwing their hands up in mock defeat. “You’re killing me here. You’re making this way too complicated!”

The three of them shared a laugh, the kind that came from years of close friendship and camaraderie. There was something undeniable in the way their eyes lingered on one another, an unspoken connection between them that was as clear as the lights above.

“Well,” the interviewer continued, clearly enjoying the tension, “it’s clear the fans are going to have a field day with this one. The speculation is about to go through the roof.”

Y/N smiled, their eyes softening as they glanced between Viktor and Jayce. “Let them,” they said with a wink. “If they want a love triangle, we’ll give them one. But no spoilers.”

The moment lingered, just a little longer than necessary, before the interviewer moved on, but the warmth between the trio wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. And, even if they didn’t say it outright, the truth was clear. Their off-screen dynamics were anything but ordinary—and the fans were going to love every minute of it.

VANDER

The panel room buzzed with excitement as fans filed in, taking their seats and eagerly whispering to each other. You could hear the sound of murmurs grow louder as the lights dimmed, signaling that the panel was about to begin. On the stage, the moderator stood with a microphone in hand, smiling at the crowd. To the left, there was a screen showing various promotional shots from Arcane, with a particular focus on the Zaunite duo—Vander and Y/N.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Arcane panel!" the moderator called out, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Today, we’re lucky enough to have two very special guests—actors who bring to life the heart and soul of Zaun: Vander and Y/N"

The crowd erupted into applause, and you smiled, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You and Vander—your real-life husband, the man you shared everything with—had been asked to participate in the panel together, and you couldn't help but feel a little giddy at the idea of sharing a piece of your relationship with the fans.

Vander leaned over to you, his deep voice low. "You ready for this?" he asked, flashing that signature grin of his that always made you feel like everything would be alright.

You took a deep breath, adjusting the mic at your collar. "I think so. Let’s give them a good show."

The moderator gestured toward both of you, prompting the conversation to begin. "So, Vander and Y/N—your characters have such a powerful, emotional relationship on screen. How do you approach that dynamic, especially considering the heavy weight of Zaun and the struggles the two face?"

Vander chuckled softly, his broad shoulders relaxing as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, Vander and Y/N are like two sides of the same coin. They have different strengths, but they share a lot of the same values. They both want to protect Zaun, their people. They both carry this weight of responsibility, and that means they have to support each other—sometimes in ways that aren't pretty."

You nodded in agreement, your eyes meeting Vander's for a brief moment. "Exactly. And for me, playing Y/N, it’s about finding that balance between strength and vulnerability. She’s tough because she has to be, but there’s always this tenderness with Vander that I think makes their relationship unique."

The fans in the audience were eating up every word. One raised their hand, and the moderator pointed to them. "Yes, you! What's your question?"

A young fan stood up, visibly excited. "I love the dynamic between Vander and Y/N! You two seem so natural together. Are there any moments from behind the scenes where you’ve laughed or had fun, even though your characters go through some pretty tough stuff?"

You grinned, sharing a quick glance with Vander. "Oh, definitely. We spend a lot of time laughing between takes. One of my favorite memories is when Vander had to give me a big, dramatic speech about protecting Zaun, and I... well, I might’ve cracked a joke in the middle of it. He’s all serious, and I just... couldn’t hold it in." You looked at Vander with a playful smile. "He definitely wasn’t expecting that."

Vander’s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Hey, she can’t help it. I’m pretty used to her sense of humor by now, though. But I gotta say, those serious moments are fun to film too. It’s all about the energy between us as actors. We have to trust each other to make it work."

The crowd laughed, and you could feel the warmth of their appreciation. Another fan stood up, holding their hand nervously. "Um, I have a question about the romantic side of Vander and Y/N’s relationship. You two are married in real life, so how does that affect your performances as characters who are also close to each other?"

Vander leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on his face. "We’ve been together for a while now, so our real relationship naturally informs the way we approach the scenes. We already have that chemistry, that trust. It’s a bit easier for us to navigate those intimate moments because we know each other so well."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling at his words. "I think what makes our characters’ relationship so special is that it feels real. Vander and Y/N are partners, both in battle and in life. There’s a deep level of trust between them, and I think that comes across in our portrayal of them, whether we’re acting or not."

The audience responded with appreciative claps, and the moderator smiled, clearly pleased with the answers. "You two clearly have an amazing dynamic. It’s so fun to see the real-life connection between Vander and Y/N. I think we all can agree that your chemistry makes the show so much more powerful."

=

As the panel continued, you and Vander fielded more questions, bouncing off each other effortlessly, occasionally teasing one another or sharing behind-the-scenes stories. One fan raised their hand, and the moderator called on them. "Hi! I have a question about Powder—the dynamic between her and Y/N in the show is so interesting. Do you two ever joke around on set about how close you are, since Powder is portrayed as your adopted daughter, but in real life, she's your... well, real daughter?"

The mention of your daughter—your beloved Powder, played by your real-life child—always brought a smile to your face. You laughed softly, glancing at Vander, who chuckled with you.

"Yes," you said, your voice warm. "It’s funny because, in a way, Powder is both our daughter on screen and off. She’s our biological daughter in real life, so there’s a lot of love and authenticity in those scenes. And while we’re both acting as parents, there are moments where we’re just a family, and I think that natural bond comes through."

Vander's expression softened as he looked at you, his love for both you and your daughter evident in his eyes. "It’s the little things, you know? The way we all laugh together between takes, or how Y/N and I share a look when Powder nails a scene—it feels like we’re a real family. It makes those emotional moments feel even more impactful."

"She’s really growing into a talented actress," you added with pride. "It’s amazing to see how she brings her character to life. On the show, Powder is vulnerable, but also capable of immense strength. And our real-life bond? I think it helps her channel that authenticity in her performance."

Another fan raised their hand, their voice filled with admiration. "How does it feel to work with your daughter? I bet it’s so special, especially considering the nature of Vander and Y/N’s relationship with Powder."

You smiled fondly. "It’s honestly the most rewarding experience. Having her there with us, seeing her grow as an actor and a person—it makes everything feel more real. The love we share as a family, even through the hardships and challenges the characters face, is something we can all relate to."

Vander gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze lingering on you. "It’s one of those things that makes the work even more meaningful. We get to experience it all together."

The audience clapped, and the moderator smiled warmly. "It’s clear how much love and chemistry you all share. It’s so rare to see a family working together so seamlessly, and I think it really enhances the show."

As the panel continued, you both shared more behind-the-scenes moments, occasional jokes, and snippets of life with your daughter, Powder. The fans couldn’t get enough of the heartfelt moments between you three, and by the end of the panel, the applause was deafening.

When the session wrapped up, you both stood, waving to the crowd. "Thank you so much for your support!" Vander called out, his deep voice booming over the mic.

"We’re so grateful for each and every one of you," you added, your smile genuine. "It means the world to us."

As you both walked backstage, the thrill of the panel still hanging in the air, you glanced over at Vander. "I think that went really well."

Vander wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked toward the exit, his touch warm and comforting. "Yeah, we make a pretty good team. But you’re the star, sweetheart."

You laughed softly, resting your head against his shoulder. "Not without you, we’re not."

"Not without all of us," he said, smiling as you both thought of your daughter, who would be joining you soon. "We’re a family."

"Always," you agreed, your heart full.

SILCO

The air outside the theater was buzzing with excitement as photographers clicked away, capturing the dazzling outfits of the actors walking the red carpet. The lights flashed like stars in a never-ending galaxy, and the crowd roared in anticipation of the next big award show. The red carpet shimmered underfoot, its length stretching before Y/N and Silco like an endless path of flashing cameras and curious eyes.

Y/N stood beside their husband, Silco, smiling for the cameras as the press tried to capture every moment. Silco was dressed in a tailored suit, sharp and sleek, his signature patch no longer a symbol of cruel ambition but a subtle accessory to his high-fashion look. His cold, calculating gaze from Arcane was long gone—replaced with a warmth that only his wife saw in private. Today, he was the complete opposite of the manipulative gang lord, his smile genuine, his posture relaxed.

Y/N, on the other hand, was wearing a stunning black gown, adorned with delicate silver embroidery. They felt the usual flutter of excitement in their chest as the cameras zoomed in, though the constant questions from the reporters were starting to wear on them. Despite their calm demeanor, they were a little overwhelmed by the attention.

"So, Y/N, tell us about your relationship with Silco in real life!" one reporter asked, his microphone pointed directly at them. "We know you two share a fiery rivalry in Arcane, but is there any truth to that animosity?"

Y/N smirked, playing along. "Oh, well, I can't say there isn't a little bit of tension, but off-screen, we're pretty... well, chill," they said, glancing over at Silco, who raised an eyebrow in amusement. There was a slight teasing edge to their words, a playful jab at the fierce rivalry their characters shared.

"That's right," Silco chimed in smoothly, his voice warm and friendly. "In fact, if you ever saw the bloopers, you'd see how much Y/N has managed to make me laugh. We’ve been married for three years now, and I can safely say, I'm the lucky one."

The reporters leaned in, intrigued. The shift in Silco's persona was immediately noticeable, his former coldness now replaced with a lighthearted warmth that contrasted sharply with his on-screen portrayal. "Wait, you two are actually married?" one reporter asked, his disbelief evident.

"Yep," Y/N replied, with a teasing smile. "We may have killed each other on-screen, but in real life, it's more about making each other laugh than anything else."

The reporters exchanged surprised glances, clearly shocked at how different their dynamic was in reality. Silco, who had made a name for himself playing the calculating, ruthless leader of Zaun, was now grinning at his wife as if she were the greatest treasure in the world. The contrast to his Arcane persona was striking. His usual menacing aura was replaced with genuine affection, his eyes softening when they looked at Y/N.

Y/N gave him a playful nudge, still basking in the strange delight of being married to someone who, in every other life, would have been their sworn enemy. "Yeah, if anyone needs to apologize for their actions, it's him. He’s the one who killed me in the show."

Silco chuckled darkly, the warmth in his eyes never fading. "I’ll say it again—it was purely professional. The script called for it." He leaned in close to whisper in their ear, his breath warm against their skin. "Though, between you and me, I think I got the better end of the deal."

Y/N laughed, nudging him again. "You just want to play the villain, don’t you?"

"Not at all," he said, his voice lowering to something more intimate, the playful edge still there. "But I do enjoy playing a good bad guy."

Before they could continue, another reporter asked, "So, tell us, what can fans expect from the upcoming season? Are there more twists in store for your characters?"

Y/N grinned, ready to play their part. "Oh, plenty of twists, but we’re keeping it secret for now," they said, giving the reporter a mysterious look. "Let’s just say there will be some very... unexpected alliances." They winked, giving Silco a subtle nod.

Silco, who had been quietly observing the interview, gave his wife a sly look. His smirk was mischievous, and the playful malice in his voice sent a thrill through Y/N. "Maybe more surprising deaths... or resurrections," he teased, leaning closer to their ear, his words dripping with intrigue.

"Silco!" Y/N gasped, though they couldn't help but laugh at his antics. The playful banter between them felt so natural, a stark contrast to the deadly silence their characters shared in the show. "Don't spoil anything!"

The reporters laughed, clearly enjoying the chemistry between the two. It was evident that their off-screen relationship was nothing like their on-screen personas. Silco's charm was magnetic, his warmth a complete departure from the cold-hearted gangster everyone knew him as. And Y/N? They were a perfect balance to him—unpredictable, witty, and fiercely loyal.

As the interview came to a close, the two posed for a final shot, standing close together, Y/N resting their hand on Silco’s arm. The contrast between their characters in Arcane and the reality of their relationship was impossible to ignore. The rivalry on-screen, the tension, the betrayal—all of it was left behind the moment they left the set.

Silco looked down at his wife, his expression softening for just a moment before the cameras flashed again. There was something in his eyes—a quiet, unspoken bond that spoke volumes. "I don’t think anyone’s ready for the full story," he whispered, just loud enough for Y/N to hear.

Y/N smiled up at him, their eyes sparkling with a shared understanding. "Then let’s keep it that way. Let them keep wondering."

The briefest of moments passed, where everything felt still, as if the world had paused just for them. Then, as if on cue, the reporters called for one more shot, and the two of them effortlessly fell back into their roles. Together, they walked down the red carpet, the world’s expectations for their on-screen rivalry continuing to clash with the reality of their unexpected love.

Their steps were synchronized, their bond clear for all to see. It was a moment where the distinction between Arcane and reality blurred completely, leaving behind only the undeniable truth: the love between Y/N and Silco, though strange to the outside world, was real. And that, they both knew, was the greatest twist of all.

[revivemyreverie]

SKETCH SSR: WISHMASTER’S CONCERT 

CREDITS: Wishmaster's Concert Event : @tixdixl, Cyril Zeman (mentioned in story): @ramshacklerumble. I consider following both of them if you haven't already!!!

This event is crazy fun and I cannot believe I finished in under 3 days. anyhow! A short story is under read more :)

Groovification: Such frivolities–this kind voice, warm smile, and upturned brows– none of it has ever been real.

Set to Home Screen: Would you like to hear a tune?

Home Transition 1: Are we moving stages? I’ll follow as you desire. 

Home Transition 2: My past self would “love” being here, I’m sure. Even if I no longer hold the emotions that came with those memories, the knowledge of how many times he used this violin is logical proof. 

Home Transition: 3: These light choices are quite interesting. You usually expect something more refined when it comes to violin performances, but I suppose the inclusion of guitars and death metal muddles that. 

Home, after Login: Ashengrotto said this event is in the best interest for both of us, but I am very sure I heard him saying he’s finally rid of me the other day… Is that what you refer to as “disdain"?

Tap Home 1: These clothes are not very optimal, since I cannot move much except the sleeves. I do not mind any of it, however, since I can still make quick movements with my bowstring. 

Tap Home 2: I’ve heard it's good to deviate music choices every once in a while for experience, so perhaps adding a few songs into my usual classical music may be good for me. 

Tap Home 3: I try to avoid bumping into my bandmates when on stage, as it would be rather terrible if my magic activated mid-performance... A husk might end up singing on stage instead of a person.

Tap Home 4:  I’m quite shocked by the people who enjoyed my performance, seeing that I had failed to remember to smile. Those in the crowd even said I looked mysterious. Emotions are such an odd thing. 

Tap Home 5: Logically, none of this really matters. All these people do is sit through a bunch of flashy lights while listening to sounds mixed and mashed together through ear-damaging speakers. Still, I partake in it, for I want to understand the past “me”’s love for it. 

🎙️.

“I don’t care if it's to show off the school’s music prowess! My Abyssal Lover will not be working with the jerk that broke the head singer's and his boyfriend up!”

Such is the common complaint Allegra has been facing as of late by the head-singer of a little band made in Night Raven College, who the former had the delight of joining thanks to his dorm leader’s so-called recommendation (it was forced, but Allegra's not allowed to sa a word on it). 

In his eyes, he had done nothing of what he had been accused of. All Allegra Mahalath had done was help a client and pull a little bit of an emotional possession with his magic. How was it his fault if he revealed that someone was having second thoughts about their relationship? Logically speaking, the singer should have just discussed this nonsensical problem from the get-go.

He might get a punch for such words, however, so the man stayed silent with his usual smile. Their manager spoke in his place, “YOU’RE the one who said anyone would do for our sick violinist, and I’m already in good-standing with Azul! I’m just taking advantage of the situation, so how about you get over yourself and move on?! Do you really want to throw away the chance to impress THE Cyril Zeman?!!”

The Octavinelle student watched his new nemesis remain silent.

“Then stop complaining and start rehearsing! And Allegra,I know you’re good at the violin, but our set also has some more... dramatic... parts in it. Please try your best.”

The therapist kept his demeanor the same. “As you wish, manager.”

—-----

The singer wondered if Allegra had a best to begin with, or was just trying to piss him off. He was awful at acting entirely, his motions being so stiff and short that he looked like a robot compared to the whisking twirls and light steps everyone else had managed to do. His only saving grace was his violin, which somehow made Allegra look far more graceful than the mannequin he turned into when he wasn't playing. 

“If you can't bother to dance right, then how about taking off that tacky customer-service smile?” He complained after their 5th rehearsal and failure of an act.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Allegra speaks like one of Ignihyde's new robots. “but if it’s not up to par, I’ll change it.”

“Are you a human? I meant to use your real smile.”

Allegra pokes at his own cheeks, “But this is my real smile? It’s the same one I use everyday, even for my clients. I thought you would understand, seeing as you even had a previous session with me–”

The last sentence seemed to have switched something in the young man. With a aggressive yell, he gets up and grabs the spiral-eyed student's shirt

“Say a thing about my stupid session from that day and I’ll break your nose!" 

The other band members ran between them, splitting the two apart to avoid a big fight. The singer clicked his tongue in return, turning to the classroom's door.

“I need a damn break.”

Allegra watched as he walked out, his temporary band mates surrounding him. A silence filled the room, yet the smile on his face remained sweet as always.

—-------

“Do you have an issue with me?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

The vocalist and violinist sat alone in the makeup room, their group having already departed for set preparations and to avoid the ever-growing storm between the two students.

“You’ve shown a great amount of physical hostility towards me.” Allegra spoke with such niceties, “I would love to know why.” 

“Oh I’m sure you would.” Sarcasm came up like vomit. “You’re an ass who ruined my goddamn love life, and now I’m expected to work with you and your weirdo facade.”

“Facade?”

The vocalist slammed his hands on the table, tired of dealing with him for the past 3 weeks. “Yes! Facade! You think everyone just takes your little goody-two-shoes employee act as fact? Everyone in the band knows it's all either a cover for you being a creep or that you just hate everyone in the world!”

Allegra turned away from him, looking outside the door’s window. “I don’t hate anyone.” 

“Cut the crap! That’s a lie itself!”

“Would you like to hear the truth about me then?” Allegra says, his voice suddenly ice cold.

He turns back to the lead-singer, his face lacking all signs of emotion.

“Such frivolities–this kind voice, warm smile, and upturned brows– none of it has ever been real.” 

This is the true Allegra Mahalath, the one who put no effort into any relationships he was expected to care for. The vocalist looked into those empty, spiraling eyes, which grow closer with every step the brunette takes towards him. 

“You’re correct, as I am simply playing the part of a false me. In my eyes, anything and everything holds no meaning; Allegra Mahalath doesn’t care for this event, nor its people, or its problems. The same can be said for my clients and their relationships, especially yours." He stated it all so matter-of-factly, as if there truly was nothing inside his heart. "It's most fitting to say that I can't seem to care about anything.”

A shiver ran down the singer’s spine. “...Then why are you even here?"

“Because I want to understand why the past ‘me’ did.”

The announcer’s voice could be heard through the loudspeaker, cutting off their confrontation with the calling of their band's name.

"Next up, from the dark corners of Night Raven College itself, is My Abyssal Lover!"

Allegra’s monotone demeanor remained as cheers could be heard echoing from the crowd. “It’s officially stage time, I kindly suggest you hurry up.” 

—-----

“Look! We got put in the event’s article!” The team’s manager exclaimed, showing off his phone to the group. “They even got a photo of you, Mahalath!”

The brunette takes a look at the article presented in front of him, reading the text with a feigned interest.

“Oh. Oops.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“It appears I forgot to smile during the set.”

For the rest of the band, it seemed like a well-timed joke. They laughed at another one of Allegra's supposed oddities. Only the vocalist remained silent in the classroom’s corner, understanding exactly what the Octavinelle student meant.

[shaunamilfman]

Dating Rhiannon Lewis HC's

pairing: Rhiannon Lewis x reader note: she's my pathetic, desperate, clingy gf so get your own.

Throws out an ily on the third date and tries so pathetically hard to play it off. “I love youR SHIRT. It's such a nice shirt.” Before running off to the bathroom to hide. She's so smooth. Pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for ten minutes before she manages to gather enough courage to come back to you and pretend nothing happened.

Keeps score of who’s texting who first and how often. It doesn’t stop her from still texting first, though.

Cannot ever get her hands out of your hair. She's so fucking gentle about it, caressing your hair and gently scratching at your scalp with her nails. Won't go near your hair on her bad days. Running her fingers along the back of your neck instead of your scalp. Fingers flexing like she wants to touch it but won't. Just doesn't trust herself not to hurt you. 

Always makes the house so fucking cold when you sleep over so you're forced to cuddle with her for warmth. Her ass is running around the whole house opening windows and creating drafts in the twenty minutes she has in between your text and when you arrive. Oh, also, all the blankets are in the wash but hers. So sad, guess you'll just have to share. Mysteriously, all of your long-sleeve shirts have disappeared too. Weird. 

Makes you do those stupid couple quizzes in magazines.

Rhiannon “We have food at home” Lewis. Once the initial excitement about having people to go out with dies down, she comes to an important realization: the more the two of you are out, the more you're exposed to dating options that aren't her. That's just not allowed. Doing anything and everything she can to keep you at home short of telling you to get your ass back inside. 

God forbid you try to go out somewhere without her. Why would you need to go see your friends while she's stuck late at work? Who's going to walk with her to the bus station? She starts asking so many questions about it, sounding so hurt that you eventually cave and don’t go. It’s not blatant manipulation, not when it’s you, but it’s usually enough to have you rethinking the whole thing anyway.

So jealous, but won’t directly say anything about it. Just starts holding onto your hand tightly with this strained look on her face.

She always misplaces your things when you're going out, or just if it suits her better. Your car keys? She hasn't seen them. The shirt you were going to wear that she doesn't much care for? You probably lost it. Here, she found her personal favorite of your shirts, though. You’ll find the other shirt mysteriously hung back up neatly in your closet the next day, like nothing ever happened.

Rhiannon wearing your shirts when she knows you're looking for them to entice you to stay home. Laying back on the bed, pouting up at you. Long sleeves that her hands just barely peek out of. “What, are you looking for this?” Making you give her a kiss if you want your shirt back to go to work. Maybe even two if she’s feeling greedy.

Tries to fix all your problems for you the second you mention them to her.

So incredibly clingy. If you're with her, you're with her. Sitting on the counter, talking to you while you cook or while you take a shower. You step out, and she's holding the towel out for you. Makes a show of breathing hot hair on it and pretends she was keeping it warm for you. You wake up every time with all four of her limbs wrapped around you, no matter how the two of you actually fell asleep.

She texts you about the weather all the time just as an excuse to talk to you.

So incredibly sensitive. Bottom lip trembling and tearing up because you said you weren't sure if you'd be able to make drinks with her coworkers tonight. Her ass trying to play it cool all like, “That's fine 🥺.“

Detailed plans for any outing she takes you on.

She plays those like little girlfriend games all the time. The like, "Would you love me if I was x, if I did y, if z happened?” Just hours and hours of it. It starts off so innocent and teasing, but it ends up getting really serious and real specific. “Would you still love me if I, like, killed someone? Accidentally. Hypothetically, of course.”

Gets really drunk one night and starts trying to get a concrete list of breakupable offenses. Pulls out this like color-coded Excel file of info with terms and conditions and shit. She takes this girlfriend stuff seriously, bro. Debating the details of it like she’s making a contract.

Stalks your socials all the time.

I just know Rhiannon pulls those like "ten tricks to keep a man" shit they have in those magazines on you. Goes down it in a list deciding what you react the best to. Tries maintaining eye contact for a freaky long time until you finally call her out on it. Insists that it’s not what she’s doing, but you realize she’s hidden all her magazines from you the next day.

Double, triple, quadruple texter. You better not fall asleep on her, or her ass will be knocking on the door within a few hours.

She likes to surprise you with dates, but she’s so horrifically bad at it. She gets nervous and ends up asking you a billion different questions about things you like, that by the time you get to the date you’ve basically already planned it all for yourself anyway. Rhiannon looks so proud of herself that you can’t bear to say anything about it.

You catch sight of her search history over her shoulder one night, and it’s like twenty variations of “What to do on a date.” / “What to say on a date.” / “Where to go to dinner in…”

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[rene-darling]

Soooo ahem- what if traveller calls Xiao's name while our babygirl is busy moaning in the best part??

GETTING- Interrupted while doing the nasty.

OMG YES!! Love your brain darling, this but with other genshin men as well.

...kazuha...tighnari...itto...Xiao...

Kazuha

You're his first priority doesn't matter if he's the one fully naked.

He's probably more red than before but he'll cover you up first

Glares at whoever walks in but it's more of an embarrassed glare.

After that person leaves he'll just sigh and probably won't be in the mood anymore.

But if you coax him a bit he'll be raring to go soon enough.

It's an embarrassing memory which he wishes he could forget

The next day when he sees that person who walked in he's very chill and acts calm and collected like nothing happened.

Tighnari

Shocked and pissed.

With work it's already hard to find time for each other and now when you finally get the chance someone interrupts

Immediately covers himself with his tail

It's like an instinct, he'll cover you too

He sends the person off with a nasty glare and then refuses to resume your previous activities,

He's ashamed beyond belief and gives you an earful for not locking the door.

Cannot face the person who caught you both for a while..

Itto

Doesn't realise.

Bro keeps going until you have to physically stop him

Once he finally sees that someone has intruded on your private time he just stares..for a moment, before letting out the most shrill scream ever known to man.

You can't believe such a scream can be from a bug muscular man such as itto

He chases intruder out the room..forgetting the part where he's naked.

You have to run after him before he runs into his gang and embarrasses himself further

Xiao

Pretty back arching and hands tightly gripping at the sheets, xiaos trying desperately to last longer. But, you're just not giving him the chance to hold back any longer.

He moans your name like a mantra as if it is the only word he knows. He could feel that he was close, arching his back he looked back leaning into you muttering your name.

He was close, he could feel it..it felt so good. Sweat dripped off of him and he could feel himself becoming closer, and closer, and- "adeptus xiao~ we need your help-"

Immediately the traveler's hands shoot up to cover piamons eyes. It takes Xiao a second to realize that he's no longer in bed with you...

His eyes widen. He stiffens as he's overcome by pure shame and embarrassment, horrified he tries to jumble a sentence together but fails, too stunned to speak.

He immediately teleports back falling onto the floor of your room. "xiao..there you are..where the hell did you go?" your question doesn't get an answer by the panicked adeptus who looks like he saw a ghost.

You have to calm him down, and there is no chance in hell you can continue what you guys were doing beforehand.

After said incident, he refrains from having intimacy for a good while, too traumatized by the prospect of the past repeating itself.

He's also too embarrassed to face the traveller in the coming weeks, running away whenever they get even a little close.

Safe to say you've lost love-making privileges all because of the traveler..damn...you won't get to see that xiaoussy for a while🙏

[moomary]

diluc x subby f!reader

content: nsfw but not explicit/descriptive writing (lots of talk of dynamics and preferences i think diluc would have for intimacy), vanilla diluc and reader at first, ur married, dom/sub dynamics, soft dom/service top diluc, talk of kids at the end, bratty reader, hint of breeding kink at the end as well if you squint and if you want to interpret it that way. diluc is really just an upstanding gentleman i love him very much and want to marry a man like him someday

diluc is one character i feel strongly to be a taker of zero risks with intimacy—neither would he enjoy such risks if he were to partake. to him, the act of sex is reverent, the purest display of love between him and his partner. never should that act be tainted by fear of discovery, discomfort, or shame.

diluc would want his lover to feel completely safe and secure during such vulnerable moments. i think he’s generally very “vanilla”, and that’s not a bad thing at all. he just enjoys making you feel loved in the most intimate way, and to him, that way is in the setting of a bedroom, lights dimmed, without the company of any other save for his beloved. his favorite position is missionary, of course it is—he can see you, see your face, kiss you silly, all while protecting you from the world. he’s the perfect husband for a pillow princess, truly—just lay down and let him do all the work, sweetheart. he’d be happy to indulge in anything new you suggest, but i feel that a relationship with diluc is steady, conservative, and gently paced, as he is so very much a gentleman. should you desire to explore more, he would never stop you, but his own desires tend to remain consistent. if you are content, he is content.

diluc’s honor and gentlemanly nature will always take precedence over any sexual desire he may harbor for you, however much he may feel. he is simply an honorable man. therefore i feel strongly that he cannot even will himself to think of doing anything promiscuous with you in any sort of public setting, no matter how hidden it may be, and no matter how much he may want you, or how much you want him. it’s not comfortable, and it’s not appropriate—it’s just not his jam. i think that is probably his only hard ‘no’ when it comes to things you may ask for. he will take you home swiftly if he is able, or you will both simply endure the yearning until night falls.

i think the furthest he’d stray into kinky territory is dom/sub dynamics (this is surprising to no one). really anything where he gets to be the protector, the guiding hand, the gentle touch with a firm grip—he’s the definition of a soft dom. his demeanor is too gentle, his heart too bleedy, his soul too pure, to do anything other than love you sweetly unless you should explicitly ask for something else.

for example, if you ask him to be meaner, rougher, or crueler, i honestly think he’d be quite perplexed, and it would take him some time to adjust to the idea. that’s definitely not something to spring on him in the moment. it goes against his nature, to be honest, because he could never imagine bringing harm or even risk of harm to someone he loves so much, whether that harm be physical, mental, or emotional. diluc would have to mull over it for a while before he’s able to approach you and say he’s ready if that’s something you would enjoy, because if it’s for you, he’d try anything. once it happens and he gets into it, oh i think he’d be into it—it’s just not something he ever would have known he’d like unless you bring it up, because he is naturally selfless in love.

the diluc soft dom to hard(er) dom pipeline is crazy cause when he gets the okay from you to be firmer, he naturally takes on that role as if it was made for him, and he remains a service top through everything. his pleasure comes second to yours, and that’s how he has always operated (which also makes for very interesting flip dynamics whenever he gets desperate👁️). if you ask for him to be firm, if you tell him you want him to be in control, that you want to submit to him, that you want him to be strong, to guide you, to take what he wants?

he’s putty.

he’d ask you several times if you’re sure. if that’s really what you want. when you say yes, it is, i’m telling you that it is—he’s still rather nervous at first. at first he wonders if he even knows what he wants, because he’s always so focused on what you want.

but truly, what he wants is just to love you in a way that is safe and comfortable for the both of you. if you are pleasured, he is pleasured. that’s honestly the baseline for anything he ever does.

perhaps, though, just once, he can focus on his own pleasure a bit more. you’ve given him the explicit go-ahead, many times, and even asked for him to be rougher, after all.

so he becomes more truly dominant, giving you more directions, and asking for more from you. he even takes, sometimes, and he has never taken anything before. it makes you feel very giddy.

his new firmness opens up the opportunity for you to explore being bratty. you’ve found yourself becoming increasingly playful, while he remains rather stoic and hard-assed as he learns to deal with you, and you love it—you know he does, too, because he has told you. taming you is a nice fun precursor to the intimate and very romantic missionary sex that you two will have.

and if you’ve talked about kids in your marriage before, this is the point where a hidden desire will finally emerge in him.

he really wants kids. more than he let you realize before. and he really wants to get you pregnant. like whenever you’re ready, he is rearing to go. as soon as you give him consent, he is more needy and wanton than you’ve ever seen before. he takes more, manhandles you, and loves you firmly, and it’s literaly awesome sauce : 3

sorry lost my energy to write more and forgot how to be serious : 3 just got inflicted with the diluc brainrot for a solid 45 minutes and got the urge to write about it bc i for some reason was thinking about people having public-ish/risky sex and how i would never be comfortable with that personally for multiple reasons . and then i thought about diluc and i was like oh my glorious king he’s like a mr darcy dreamboat i swear ugh anyways