#and the fact that he's thinking about tea pots at all

[thcmcnstcr-a]

Breaking news, guy who just did a dab can't stop thinking about tea pots

[moonstruckme]

would you write a part two to whimsy!reader totally knowing remus’ secret? i feel like r would be so sweet and casual about it that remus would cry

Thanks for requesting!

cw: post-moon werewolf Remus, mention of blood and wounds (no description)

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.4k words

The boys usually send you away this time of month. They try to be subtle about it, encouraging you to go visit your family or sleep over at a friend’s house, but you’re not one to let the full moon pass you by without notice. It didn’t take long for the pattern to reveal itself. 

Still, you don’t argue when James gifts you tickets for you and a friend to see a band you like out of town. You know they’re all most comfortable doing things the way they always have, and you worry that letting slip what you know would do more harm than good; Remus would be anxious and upset, and the other boys would only be doing more damage control than they’re used to with you around. So, you let the full moon pass you by without complaint. 

The next day, however, when you know James and Sirius will have gone to work and left Remus to rest and heal, you sneak into your apartment. 

The fact of Remus’ ailing is immediately obvious; the boys’ things are strewn all over the place, evidence of James’ and Sirius’ running about without Remus to pick up after them. There’s a pot of half-eaten stew that’s been left to cool and congeal on the stove, an abandoned roll of bandages on the coffee table, and the entire apartment smells like disinfectant and heartache. 

When you find Remus in the bedroom, your heart aches, too. He’s sleeping, but even in rest his face is pinched with discomfort, and there are several bandages visible above where the bedsheets rest halfway up his torso. It’s about what you expected, but it still makes your eyes burn. 

You try to let him sleep as long as possible, working with the environment first. You open a few windows to get out the smell and let in the new day, clean the common spaces, start your lavender incense burning in the bedroom. You’re brewing tea when Remus pads into the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Oh.” He startles to see you. “You’re back.” 

You’re startled, too. “Hi, I’m sorry,” you say, hurrying over to the windows to shut them. “Did I wake you? Is it too cold in here?” 

“No.” Remus looks wary, watching you flit about the living room like he’s not sure he’s actually woken up. “It’s nice. When did you get home?” 

“Just this morning. I didn’t see the sense in staying another night, and anyway I wanted to be with you.” You make your way back around the room to him, taking his jaw gently in your hand. His skin is warm to the touch. “How are you feeling, lovely?” 

You feel more than see Remus’ face tighten. “I’m alright. How are you?” 

You let him go, giving him a small smile. “Better now that I’m back with you, thanks for asking.” You go back to the stove to stir your pot. “If you’re warm, you don’t need to keep that blanket on for me. I’ve already seen the bandages.” 

You hear his quiet intake of breath, and then a few moments later the sound of the blanket dropping to the floor. 

“Are you in the mood for some tea?” you ask without turning around. “If you want to get back in bed, I could bring it to you there. I don’t imagine standing is very kind to your legs right now.” 

You’ve been reading up on wolf versus human anatomy. If Remus’ transformations work the way you think they do, the bones in his heels and legs would have to either break or otherwise shorten and elongate to create the legs a wolf needs; you can’t imagine it’s a painless process, or that he’s not still feeling the effects of it now, so soon after the moon.

For a dense handful of moments, Remus lingers on the edge of the kitchen. But soon you hear his footsteps, heavier than usual in a way that makes your stomach hurt, go back towards the bedroom. You finish making his tea and bring it to him with a few pieces of his chocolate. 

He’s sitting up at the edge of the bed, propped up on pillows and watching the smoke curl up from your incense with a haunted look in his eyes. 

“Hi,” you say softly. He accepts the tea and chocolate with a quiet thanks. “Do you think it might help things if I opened the curtains? Some sunlight might be good for you.” 

Remus hums his assent. Everything becomes crisper once you let the light in. Remus’ dark circles and the blood visible through his bandages, but also the healthy flush to his cheeks and the strength of his body beneath the dressings. 

“What is this?” Remus asks you, sipping his tea. 

“Bay leaves. It’s for pain relief. It helps more if you put it directly on the wounds, but I didn’t think you’d want to mess with your dressings any more.” 

He nods. Sighs. “Come here, dove. Come sit.” 

You’re eager to comply. You round the bed to avoid crawling over him, settling against the pillows beside your boyfriend with your shoulder touching his. A support, if he needs it. 

“What’s the incense for?” he asks. 

“It’s lavender. It’s also good for pain, but I thought it might help you sleep as well.” 

Remus nods again. He turns to you, his eyes some mixture of distressed and resigned. “Why are you doing all of this?” he asks. “Why did you come home?” 

“Remus,” you say gently, “we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.” 

His brows hook in the middle, a small crumbling. “But you know already.” 

You cradle his face in your hand. Your voice is soft. “Yeah.” 

You pull Remus towards your chest when he starts weeping. He dampens your shirt while you comb your fingers through the hair at his nape, saying nothing. Steam wafts up from his tea until it doesn’t, but that’s okay; you’ll make him another cup when he’s ready. 

James and Sirius are surprised to find you when they come home. 

“Angel—” 

“Shh.” You cover one of Remus’ ears with your hand, his head in your lap. “He’s hardly slept all day.” 

James lowers his voice, setting his bag down on the floor. “When did you get here?” 

“This morning.” 

“But you were supposed to be away until tomorrow afternoon.” Sirius climbs up onto the bed. His expression goes tender as he looks down upon Remus’ sleeping face, and the kiss he presses to your lips is gentle.

You card your hand through Remus’ hair. “I didn’t want to be away from him,” you admit softly. “I understand why you want to do things without me on the night it happens, but I’d like to help before and afterwards at least.” 

Sirius’ brow pinches, his eyes narrowing cautiously. 

“When what happens?” James asks you. 

You speak softly, not wanting the words to potentially agitate Remus in his sleep. “The transformation.” 

There’s a thick pause. 

“Who told you?” Sirius asks. 

“No one had to tell me.” 

There’s a quiet chuckle from the end of the bed. James kicks his shoes off, crawling up the covers to meet you. “I told you she knew.” He gives you a kiss, soft and syrupy sweet. “Thanks for looking after him for us, sweetheart.” 

Remus grunts, coming awake. “James,” he groans. “Your knee is on my leg.” 

“Oh. Sorry, love.” James moves, then bends down to give Remus a kiss of his own. “Did our angel take good care of you today?” 

“Better than this.” 

“That’s the moon talking,” Sirius says flippantly, though the hand he uses to rub Remus’ shoulder is exceedingly gentle. “That’s something you’ll learn as we go along, gorgeous. He loves us, really.” 

You feel your brows pinch. “I thought he was as nice as always today.” 

“Wonder why,” Remus mutters, but the look he gives Sirius is teasing. 

James gives Remus another kiss, standing. “I’ll get you some of your soup.” 

“Oh, I…” You give him a sheepish look. “I washed that down the sink. It got left out, the meat was bad. There’s tea on the stove that should help him heal faster, though, if you want to get some of that.” 

James and Sirius stare at you. 

“Seems like we should’ve brought you in on this a lot sooner,” Sirius says after a moment. 

You shrug. Remus mumbles something that sounds like agreement.

[cottonlemonade]

Marriage Of Convenience [Part 1]

word count: 1705 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, slice of life

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: Marriage is not a big deal, right? Anyone can do it and it comes with a whole lot of benefits! That’s why your friend proposes to you one morning with all the elegance and romance of an empty pudding cup.

The honey drizzled in deep golden ribbons onto the still warm buttered toast. The first signs of spring were in the air and the thickly plumed sparrows chattering on your balcony outside the kitchen window, hopping from railing to empty plant pots, almost drowned out the noise from the busy road down below. In typical Monday morning fashion, you only half-paid attention to your breakfast while you scrolled through your emails, picking out the important from the irrelevant and barely took note of the front door opening. Shuffling footsteps hurried along the short hallway. A few moments later, Tetsuro plopped down across from you, snatching a grape from your plate.

You looked up from your phone with a cocked brow when he took a second one, and he held your eyes questioningly, the grapes still bulging out his cheeks like a hamster, “What? You want them back?”

With pursed lips, you pushed your plate to the middle of the table and bit off a corner of toast, still scrolling.

“Did you see the email from Mr Maeda?”

Testuro nodded, “That guy really has nothing better to do on a Sunday than count coffee filters and complain about the office’s excessive caffeine consumption.”

You got up to quickly reheat the kettle for a second cup of tea, “I’ll have to go to the downtown office this morning, but I should be done by lunch. Wanna meet up at that new sushi place?”

“Sure thing. - Oh! Also, I went down quite the rabbit hole last night and I wanted to run something by you.”

“Is this a “I can’t believe pandas ever made it this far” or more a “we should totally start our own quilting business” kind of rabbit hole?”

Steam rose from the spout of the kettle, and you began pouring it over the loose green tea you knew was his favorite.

“How would you feel about getting married?”

You almost broke your neck, snapping your head around to look at him, “What?”

“It’s not weird, I promise. I saw this video of a couple yesterday who talked about how they were tired of dating and annoyed that they were getting overlooked on apartment hunts, perks at work, always being hounded by their families about when they’d finally find someone etc. and so just decided to marry their best friend. And I looked into it, they’re completely right! The amount of benefits married couples get is insane! And don’t even get me started on taxes.”

The cup was by now overflowing, and hot water trickled steadily from your kitchen counter onto your house slipper. You didn’t notice it because you were still staring at him.

“You’re dripping.”, he informed you, helpfully.

With a little shake of your head, you returned to reality in which Kuroo Tetsuro, local office dork, just casually suggested marrying him over a half-eaten slice of toast and remnants of grape stalks.

He went and grabbed the dish towel from the hook by your sink and crouched down to wipe up the small puddle. As he did, he looked up at you, continuing, “Anyway, I figured since I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re also nowhere near close to marriage-”

“Hey!”

“I thought I’d ask.”

“Are you gonna randomly propose to other people if I don’t say yes?”

“I dunno, actually. - Don’t think so. Why?”

You took a deep breath and accepted the wet towel he held out to mop up the rest from the counter.

“Alright. I’m not saying yes, yet!”, you clarified quickly as he was about to raise his hand for a high five, “I’m saying: bring me some actual facts about this, not just social media hearsay, and then I’ll decide.”

“You got it. I’ll present my findings to you by tomorrow night.” He ended with his most professional nod, then smiled and began clearing your table so you could head to work together.

After the morning meeting, you heavily neglected your tasks to sort your thoughts. A spreadsheet was made and pros and cons began slowly filling in either side of the neat list.

Pros:

> Tax deductions (!)

> he knows how to do laundry and picks up after himself

> Respectful, most of the time

> fun and comfortable to be around

> I’d not be offended if people assumed we’re married

You paused and looked at a small plant pot on your desk, deep in further consideration. Then you took to your keyboard again.

Cons:

> might have to pretend like all of his jokes are suddenly funny

> having to explain the situation to everyone

Your fingers stopped typing and after a heartbeat or two you deleted the last line, writing instead:

> having to pretend to be married in front of everyone

Much to your surprise, he didn‘t address the elephant in the room over lunch right away. Instead, you talked as per usual about this, that and everything, pulling small plates with bites of sushi from the conveyor belt in front of you. He had his tie flipped over his shoulder and the JVA lanyard was safely tucked in the breast pocket of his shirt to not accidentally dunk it in the little dish of wasabi and soy sauce in front of you. In your mind, you quietly added “good table manners” to the pro list.

“What’s up?”, he asked as he stacked an empty plate onto the ever-growing dish tower.

“Nothing.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Nope.”

“Come on, I might be your husband soon, we should be able to tell each other everything.”, he grinned.

“You’re very on board with this whole idea.”, you noted after a short pause.

Tetsuro made that smile he always did when he was about to deliver an awful pun, “One could say I’m pretty married to it, yes.”

You continued, unperturbed, “What about your dad? What would you tell him?”

“He likes you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“He’s gonna be fine as long as I am.” Tetsuro dipped the salmon of a nigiri in soy sauce and held it out to feed you - a poor attempt to distract.

“Don’t worry so much about it.”, he said to his very worried friend with a reassuring shrug when you took the bite, “He knows you make me happy. And that’s all there is to it.”

“I make you happy, do I?”

“Yeah, of course. What - don’t I make you happy?”, he grinned.

“Well.” With a raised brow, you pulled out your phone and, after a bit of tapping, turned the screen to show him your list.

Squinting a little, he produced his glasses from his pocket and put your phone on the table to scroll through the bullet points.

“Okay, first of all, I can’t see anything on here about my looks. That should be a major pro. Just look at these glasses.”, he gestured to the dark frames, “Don’t they scream office siren? That should definitely go into the pro column. You should write that not only am I gonna be an amazing husband but also some real eye candy”, under his breath he added, “which one might argue is the healthiest kind of candy.” He smirked at his own joke.

“That’s not relevant, though.”, you countered.

He disagreed, “It’s very relevant for bragging rights. I know, I’ll brag about you non-stop. Just look at how you did this Excel spreadsheet. Dream girl right there.”

“I know you’re joking, but I’m actually very proud of my skills, thank you very much.” You snatched the phone away again and answered his smile with your own. Maybe it really wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The following night, you settled in on his couch waiting for him to make his case, although, if you were honest, in your mind you were already picturing what life with him as a glorified roommate would be like. Tetsuro tipped on his laptop for about a minute, then rolled up his sleeves and turned on the TV. It showed the title card to a PowerPoint presentation by the name of Why You Should Marry Me. The next slide, reached by the click of a button from the little black remote in his hand, let you know that it was sub-sectioned into Perks, More Perks, Possible Issues and Even More Perks.

“Do you have any questions?”, he asked once the final slide read Thank you for your attention.

You took a deep, quiet breath, looking down at the empty notepad in your lap and back up at him.

“Nope. Let’s do it.”

He beamed and clicked the remote again. It jumped to a new title card: Guidelines For Our Happy Marriage.

Thanks to Tetsuro’s extensive research you had a list of needed paperwork ready to go and after a quick trip to your country’s embassy you soon stood in line at City Hall on Friday afternoon, both still in your office clothes, to get married. It felt much more like an errand than anything else, like popping into a convenience store on your way home from work because you forgot the milk on your last trip to the supermarket. Stacks of documents were signed and stamped, and once you were done, you received a coupon for a nearby restaurant as a gift. When you stepped out of the tall unassuming building, the last slivers of sunbeams peeked through the alleys and the streets were bathed in a subtle golden-gray glow. You came to a halt at the bottom of the steps.

“How do you feel?”, you asked.

He stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders as if looking for a crank somewhere. “No different. You?”

You shook out your body as well, more so to make fun of him than anything else, and shrugged, “Nope. All good.”

On your walk to the restaurant for your discount wedding dinner, you simply carried on your usual conversations about a book you were currently reading and thought out loud about what you would pick off the menu.

The only indication that anything had changed was that when you reached your table, he pulled up the chair with a slight bow saying, “Mrs Tax Deduction.” and you played coy and did a small curtsy before sitting down with the reply of, “Too kind, Mr Tax Deduction.”

art: @freaka_loonyz on Instagram, X, Pinterest and TikTok

a/n: sooo, here we are. I really hope you’ll enjoy this one ✨

Huge thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for listening to me ramble about this incessantly and for brainstorming and for helping me edit.

[Part 2]

[angelqueef]

mmmfgggh can’t stop thinking about yandere!price babying the fuck out of you

cw: drugging, hand feeding, stalking if you squint, daddy kink, coddling, infantilzation (kinda) oral f!receiving, lotsa pet names, somno, cnc, spit mention, john is creepy and sickeningly sweet, creampie, cockwarming, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, not proofread

he’s just so doting, an almost smothering cloud of sweetness. he loves taking care of you. you’re his baby and he never fails to remind you at every chance he gets.

before he swallows you whole and keeps you on his hip at all times, he lets you go out on your own (ofc he has your location). you come home to him, particularly tired from running errands.

you drag your legs to the kitchen, your nose doing most of the work to bring you when you smell your favorite meal simmering on the stove. and there he is, your big bear of a man stirring the pot, like he doesn’t know you’re right behind him.

he turns to you, all crinkly eyed and smiling, “welcome home, angel,” he walks to you, arms wide as he takes your belongings from your hands and puts them on the bar chair. he swaddles you in his big arms.

“mm. hi,”

he takes a good look at your pretty face, bringing a hand to squeeze your cheeks and turn your head back and forth, inspecting. “what’s wrong with my baby, hm?”

he tilts down and leaves the softest and gentlest of kisses ln your squished, pouted lips. you almost don’t feel it. you whine, wanting more.

“‘m so tired. don’ know why. was only gone for a couple hours,” you lean into him and he digs his fingertips in your hair to massage your scalp.

“you’re just not used to going out without me there to help. had to make so many big decisions on your own, didn’t you?” he tuts and coos, his gruff voice only this cottony around you.

of course your tired. you hadn’t noticed john grind half of a sleeping pill up and slip it in your afternoon tea. not enough to knock you out, but enough to make you drowsy.

you nod into his chest, melting against him. for some reason, your eyes well with tears. your heart aches, you thought you had fared fine on your own until you came home. maybe you really did need him there. you wanted to do something on your own for once, have some you time. but it’s hard to feel under control when he’s not there towering over you, palm on the small of your back to guide you.

he hears you sniff, “shh, shhh. i know, honey,” and suddenly, you’re lifted up and brought to the couch. he wraps a blanket around you.

“be right back. dinner’s ready, you need food in your belly.”

your hand hesitantly leaves his, “m’kay.”

in a flash he comes back with a steaming bowl and a mug in hand.

“made your favorite. and i heated up some honey milk. it’ll relax you,” he places them on the coffee table, bringing your legs into his lap.

“thank you,” your lips wobble.

“you’re welcome, girlie. come on, sit up. time to eat.”

with all your strength you sit upright and reach for the bowl. john’s hand halts you, grabbing your wrist firmly, “no, no. i’m feeding you. my sweet little girl can’t do it on her own right now.”

“what? j-john, it’s really okay. i ca-“

“open.”

you follow his command without question. shocking yourself at your automatic obedience. humiliation runs hot through you and your cheeks warm at the fact he’s treating you like a child.

he blows on your bite of food and pushes it into your mouth. he hums, pleased.

“atta girl. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

you chew, the flavors melting on your tastebuds and the food breaking tenderly against your teeth. your eyes are close and you shake your head. after that bite he could do whatever he wants.

“good, hm?” he smiles, bringing the mug of sweet milk to your lips after you swallow your bite. you sip and he jerks the cup up slightly (an accident, he swears), causing milk to dribble on your chin and the sides of your mouth. a lewd sight for him.

“oops. sorry, angel,” he licks and kisses the liquid from your face, a little too rough. you wince.

“my messy girl.”

———————————————————————————

in bed it’s even worse. he’s leaving warm, tender kisses up the whole length of your body, admiring you. you’re on the edge of sleep. his beard tickles and make you squirm. you reach for him.

“y’feeling needy?” he brings himself up to your face so he’s hovering over you, studying your expression with those pacific blue eyes, “silly thing. this tired but you still need your daddy.”

your drowsy eyes snap open at the name, he’d never referred to himself as that before. you don’t know what to say. he huffs a laugh at your bewilderment.

he dips down, light kisses turning wet and hot as he makes his way up your neck. he suckles on your earlobe. “that’s right, angel. i’m your daddy, aren’t i?”

that one move alone makes you a puddle in his hands. you’d never called anyone daddy before, not even your own father, but john doesn’t give you a chance to protest when he’s staring intensely into your eyes, wordlessly demanding an answer. his fingers trace oh so lightly down your side, making you whine and shiver.

arousal and fear shoot through you, “yes, you’re my…d-daddy.”

“good girl. did such a good job. i know it’s new. but daddy’s gonna take care of you, understand?”

you nod, “please, want you.”

“and where do you want me, sweet thing?”

you squeak, covering your face with your hands. asking for what you want is still so hard for you.

john nips the skin on the back of your hand, breath fanning, “c’mon. look at me and use your words.”

you slowly take your hands down and look at him with drowsy eyes. tears of embarrassment well up.

“want you..in my pussy, please..”

john groans and kisses between your eyebrows, “knew you could do it. such a brave baby.”

he spreads your legs and dives down to nose at your clothed cunt, wetness darkening the fabric.

“look at you, so wet for me. i’ve barely done anything, angel,” he licks and sucks the fabric, reveling in your taste.

you moan and twitch at his ministrations, breath hitching when he pulls your panties off to suck on your slit, tongue pushing inside you.

your mind is foggy and all you can think about is john, john, john. you gasp and dig your hands through his cropped hair, “f-fuck, feels s’good,”

“language,” he commands, spanking your inner thigh.

you squeak, “m’sorry, sorry, daddy,”

“sweet girl,” he licks, “so apologetic,” he sucks, “s’okay. you just don’t know any better, do you?” he spits on your folds.

you’re an absolute mess, his condescending tone makes you arch up against his mouth, mustache and nose rubbing your swollen clit.

“yeah, ride my face, there you go.”

he stills and lets your sleepy body do the work. you feel your orgasm building, white and hot in your belly.

“gonna c-,” you whine.

john interrupts you, eager. “yeah? you almost there? go ahead, cum on me angel, let this pretty cunt make a mess f’me,” he shoves his fingers in you with a quickness, palming himself through his slacks. he too might cum at the sight of you.

you gasp and sob and moan, shaking against him. he pumps his fingers in and out of you, riding out your orgasm.

you sink back into the bed, panting.

“fuck, baby, y’did so good. gonna keep you,” he leans up and kisses you deeply, tongue shoving in your mouth. you taste yourself on him.

“you want that? want me to keep you? take care of you forever?”

you’re in a daze and you don’t really know what he means, but his saccharine tone makes whatever he’s saying sounds delicious. so you nod furiously before slumber takes you, shallow breaths turning deep and slow.

he takes his fingers out of your sensitive cunt.

“poor girl,” he nibbles at your neck and collarbone, sweet tone shifting, “gonna fuck you now, okay? i’ll be gentle, you won’t even notice.”

you don’t respond of course, your jaw is already slack and drool pools on the pillow. he collects it on the pad of his fingers and shoves it back into your mouth, you suck instinctively, even in sleep.

“fuck, keep sucking, there you go. you’re so beautiful,” he keeps his fingers in your mouth like a pacifier as he grabs his stiff cock from the fabric of his underwear, shuddering at the cool air hitting his tip.

he lines himself up with your entrance, dragging the tip up and down your wet folds, pressing against your clit. you let out a sleepy squeak.

he shushes you, “it’s just me, sweetheart,” he finally pushes inside you, his promise of being gentle leaving his mind as your gummy walls swallow him in.

he fucks you hard, pumping in and out, making your tits bounce. he loves it, eyes rolling back as he lets go inside you right then and there.

he pulls out to watch his spend spill out of you, just to collect it with his tip and shove it back in. he turns you on your side and plops next to you, cock buried inside you.

you wake up ten hours later to him sleepily rutting into you. your whole body aches. you don’t remember having sex last night.

“good morning, angel. sleep well?”

———————————————————————————

uggghhhb i need him.

[zephyrchama]

Make barbatos fanfics pls

The memory of your recent mishap kept playing in your mind. It was a complete mistake - you hadn't intended to drench Barbatos in tea. Despite him being more than capable of protecting himself, you foolishly attempted to shield him from whatever toxic concoction Solomon was cooking up. One thing led to another, a massive pot fell over, there was an ear-deafening clang, and Barbatos was on the ground. Sopping wet.

He wasted no time in excusing himself to clean off, leaving you to bear the weight of your sins. Anyone could have easily cleaned the mess with magic, but Barbatos instead opted for a shower for some peace and quiet to calm down. Solomon was left to scrub the floor by hand since he started this issue in the first place.

As all of the castle's linens had been conveniently gathered in the laundry room to be inventoried, you took it upon yourself to grab a clean towel and deliver it to Barbatos.

You could hear the water running from down the hall. It was so loud, you weren't sure Barbatos could hear you. Wisps of steam escaped from the cracks around the bathroom door. You knocked. There was no answer.

"Barbatos?" you called, knocking again. There was no answer. Only the running of water. He was probably already in the shower. You could take this opportunity to grab his soiled uniform and clean it before the stains permanently set in.

With that plan of action, you opened the door. Barbatos was not in the shower, despite the running faucet. In fact, Barbatos was stark naked in the middle of the room. A washcloth in his hand indicated he had already obtained his own towels. He had his back to the door, as if he was just about to enter the tub. He made eye contact with you over his shoulder, eyes wide.

That one second felt like an hour.

His posture was superb. A mix of tea and condensation from the muggy bathroom air trailed down the curve of his spine, fine enough to be in a medical textbook. Your eyes followed, down to the base of his tail and the derriere behind it. Two fabulous, firm full moons. A sight rarer than anything else in all the three realms.

"Did you need something?"

Barbatos' usual polite tone was punctuated with umbrage. He placed a hand on his chest, as though shielding his visage.

"I'm sorry!" were the first words you spat out, on reflex. Coherent thinking failed you in the face of such art. Sentences started falling out of your mouth and you hoped they made sense. "I thought you might need a towel, so I got one from the laundry and came to give it to you. I knocked! I did, I knocked, but you didn't answer so I came in to leave this."

You held the towel forward with both hands as an offering. "And I was gonna collect your clothes so I could wash them. As an apology for, ah, that other thing I did. Sorry."

You stared at the ground. Even Barbatos' ankles were pristine. A little bony, tapering down at the sides that led to his slender feet. You watched his weight shift as his tail curled closer to his body.

"How thoughtful. I'd appreciate if you could hang it on the towel bar. I will handle my clothes myself, later."

"Right, of course." You swiveled and diligently hung the towel up. The dirty clothes in question were on the ground, still soaking wet, neatly folded in a square. You looked from them back to Barbatos. He was rooted in place, not budging in the slightest. One wrong move, and who knew how much you'd see?

More than the current eyeful, that's for sure. More than the slope of his shoulders. More than the rise and fall of his upper body with each fresh breath. More than the sight of his wet hair clinging to the curve of his jawbone and the tenseness in his arm when his painted fingernails wrapped around the tiny washcloth.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. An obvious cue for you to leave.

"I'm good," you said. It was hard not to ogle at the size of his waist fully unobscured by clothing, and its ratio to his hips. "Do you... need any help?"

"I am fine. I will be taking my shower now." His voice echoed around the bathroom as you finally left. It echoed around your head, too, when he said, "be good and wait for me."

[pastryfication]

Can you please do Oscar x reader, who's birthday is coming up but she doesn't want to celebrate or acknowledge it?

I'm that way. My birthday is on the 30th. 🥺

happy birthday!!! i hope you have an amazing day, love xx

this is my gift to you ❤️🥳

birthday celebrations | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

content warnings: oscar being the perfect boyfriend.

you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of your blanket cocooning you against the world outside.

you snuggle deeper into the bed, just wanting to hide. today is your birthday, a day you’ve dreaded for as long as you can remember. birthdays have never been your thing—too much fuss, too many expectations. you’d rather it pass like any other day, quiet and unremarkable. but your boyfriend has other plans.

you hear the faint clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. curiosity piques, and you pull yourself out of bed, padding softly to the source of the noise.

and there he is, oscar, standing by the stove, a look of concentration on his face as he prepares your favorite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with strawberries and jam. he turns, catching sight of you, and his face lights up with a smile that melts your reluctance just a little.

“happy birthday, love,” he says, coming over to kiss your forehead. you try to protest, to remind him that you don’t want a big deal made out of today, but he hushes you gently.

“just a simple breakfast,” he insists, guiding you to the table.

breakfast is a cozy affair, the two of you sitting close together at the small kitchen table. the pancakes are perfect, made exactly like you love them, and the berries are sweet and fresh. oscar keeps the conversation light, steering clear of any mention of birthdays or celebrations. he knows you too well, and it makes your heart swell with gratitude.

after breakfast, oscar insists on a lazy morning. he pulls you back to bed, rewrapping you in a cocoon of blankets and his arms. the two of you spend hours cuddling, watching your favorite shows, and simply enjoying each other's company. his constant attention and gentle touches make you feel cherished, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren't so bad when spent like this.

the day slowly unfolds in a series of small, thoughtful gestures. oscar dotes on you, bringing you tea while you read and stealing kisses when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. he suggests a walk in the park, knowing how much you love the feel of the sun on your face and the rustle of leaves underfoot, and you walk hand in hand through your favourite park.

as the evening approaches, you start to worry about what he might have planned. you’ve made it clear you don’t want a party, and oscar has always respected your wishes, but birthdays make you wary. he sees the tension in your shoulders and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“i know you don’t want a big celebration,” he murmurs into your ear, “but i thought a quiet dinner with a few of your closest friends might be nice. just us, no fuss.”

you turn to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. all you see is his genuine desire to make you happy, and it softens your resolve. you nod, agreeing to the dinner, trusting that he’ll keep it simple.

when your friends arrive, the atmosphere is warm and intimate, just as oscar promised. there’s no grand entrance nor any loud singing, just the comfort of familiar faces and easy conversation. you find yourself relaxing, enjoying the evening more than you expected. the dinner is delicious, the laughter infectious. you catch oscar’s eye across the table, and he gives you a wink that makes your heart flutter.

as the night winds down, and your friends start to leave, you realize that today hasn’t been so bad. in fact, it’s been kind of wonderful. oscar walks you to bed, his hand in yours, and you snuggle into his side, feeling a contentment you hadn’t anticipated.

“thank you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“for what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“for making today special,” you reply, “without making it too much.”

he smiles, pulling you closer. “anything for you, my love.”

and as you drift off to sleep, you think that maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t so terrible after all.

[panravenc]

i am tired and in need of some cheering up, so here are some domestic headcanons of codywan living together:

living together is different from merely spending time with each other, even if said time is the majority of every day

however, cody and obi-wan find it fairly easy to mesh their routines. that includes work-out and bathroom schedules

obi-wan is a morning person. when he needs not to be, cody prefers to lounge in bed until he's hungry enough for breakfast

that means obi-wan gets the living room for meditation first thing in the morning until cody deigns to make breakfast and snaps him out of it

talking about cooking, cody finds a hobby in trying out new recipes and in learning how to cook. obi-wan, although he can manage basic recipes, has never bothered with cuisine beyond the mess hall of the jedi temple or outside diplomatic missions

he does know how to brew five hundred types of tea and the perfect cup of coffee for cody, but that's different, apparently

cody also takes up baking. he ends up liking it more than cooking, and they settle for taking turns cooking lunch and dinner whenever possible

they have three tookas that followed cody home one day. neither knows where they came from

the tookas live mainly in the temple but if cody is out for longer than a day they cry like devilish creatures from the beyond

there is never a day in which they skip napping. since cody and obi-wan discovered napping together, neither has looked back. if they are busy, that's fine, but otherwise both expect a nap every day

it's the fantasy of every medic that has ever worked with them

they spar a lot. they keep up their training and like getting on each other's nerves by teasing and taunting the other while sparring

on that note, they enjoy playing games against one another, specially scrabble, monopoly, and card games, and try to cheat their way to victory

the rules are that if you get caught cheating, you lose immediately. also you owe the winner a massage

thinking about this, they like solving puzzles together! and doing crosswords (obi-wan) and sudoku (cody) side by side while cuddling on the couch is a preferred activity of the household

tookas might also appropriate their laps during said cuddling but no one's going to get mad at them for that, no sir

on the topic of cuddling! they keep their pda private, but inside their home, they tend to cuddle quite a lot. backhugs, couch cuddles, nap cuddles, meditation-turned-cuddles cuddles...

curiously, they don't sleep cuddling. neither can, except on days when both of them collapse on the bed. usually, they sleep back to back

this is a habit from sharing a tent in war campaigns that has simply not gone away. they also keep it up on missions after the war

also! if obi-wan goes out on a mission, cody follows. while sometimes duty takes them away from each other, cody feels better being obi-wan's back-up and obi-wan's missions go to hell so often that he reluctantly appreciates it too

going back to domesticity, cody likes melodramatic holoseries and obi-wan prefers sober holobooks

since living together, cody has acquired a library of holobooks full of facts and interesting stories and obi-wan is hooked on the worst holoseries ever

they have weekly family/lineage dinners in which cody's closest brothers and obi-wan's lineage (sometimes including master yoda) get together for a meal and a good time

sometimes the number of cody's brothers grow and suddenly they need to move to bigger quarters because the rooms they share certainly aren't big enough for fifty people

they live happily ever after and nothing goes wrong ever and they kiss each other good morning and good night every single day of their lives thereafter. thank you

that is all folks! i hope you guys enjoyed this. i mismashed a lot of my headcanons of codywan living together and threw them in this pot lol. i can't muster the energy to write a full fic, please be content with this ;;

tagging @codywancomfort because i think fluff comforts everyone in their time of need :)

love y'all,

―pau.

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SW Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose

[dreadsuitsamus]

Cute Aggression With Your Bleach Man Headcanons

author's note: this all started bc i wanted to bite kensei. also all of the banners you see in this post were created by the wonderful @actuallysaiyan!!! please give bacon lots of love, as she deserves every bit of it 🩷🩷🩷

pairings: kensei muguruma x gn!reader, grimmjow jeagerjaquez x gn!reader, renji abarai x gn!reader, byakuya kuchiki x gn!reader, kūgo ginjō x gn!reader

warnings: biting, grimmjow, mentions of alcohol, overall it's just fluff

Kensei is no stranger to receiving bites from partners. His big, muscled, veiny arms are just about the perfect target for anybody’s cute aggression!

So, surprisingly, it doesn't really bother him

This doesn't mean he understands, however

“Why are you like this?” He murmurs as you bite his bicep, having come up out of nowhere as he innocently reads in his armchair

It's not like you can be blamed!! He's the one wearing a compression tank top that makes him look a thousand times more delicious than he already is!!!

“‘ike ‘at?” Your teeth are still firmly latched into his flesh, but he does find the fact you're trying to still make conversation with him cute, and he kisses your temple before resuming his reading

Kensei Muguruma is soft and it's all your fault

And what's all his fault is being sleeveless all the time, thus provoking you!

He won't admit it, but he actually really loves when you bite him

You think he's cute :3

Admittedly, you don't often get cute aggression when you're with Grimmjow

Biting is often reserved for… Different feelings

But sometimes he's just the most adorable thing in this entire world, particularly when he's minding his own business, the demon on his shoulder having a nap and your teeth just itch for him

He's watching a movie, twirling a toothpick between his lips and is fully invested in the plot

You, however, are fully tuned into just how good his forearms look

You pounce right on him, your sharp teeth catching right onto one of those leanly muscled forearms

Your bite is rather strong, though it isn't as if Grimm doesn't deserve it

“Oi!” Grimm leaves the toothpick between his teeth as he uses his strong fingers to push your lower jaw together and release the bite. “Take me to dinner first!”

You're forced off of him quickly, and your boyfriend quickly tackles you to the floor

His bites can't exactly be chalked up to ‘cute’ aggression, though they’re certainly belligerent

Not that you mind these different feelings from him

As much as Renji tries to be cool and collected, he fails at it

The man is a bit of a klutz, and when he gets embarrassed he turns an adorable shade of pink!

So he sees more than his fair share of cute aggression from you

And goodness he doesn't get it. Which only spurs you on further!

It's movie night, and Renji’s decided to get fancy and make the popcorn on the stovetop rather than do the usual microwave popcorn

He's humming to himself, the kernels popping as if to his beat and he can't help but shimmy his hips a bit

He has got to spend less time on TikTok; he's had the same song in his head for days!

“Twin? Where have you been?” He sings, swinging his hips like they don't lie

There's a giggle from the doorway and Renji swings around, eyes wide and he knocks the lid from the pot in his haste

Popcorn begins to fly everywhere, and Renji’s socked foot slips on a bit of oil he spilled and subsequently forgot about, slamming right onto the floor

Your chest fills with love and you curl your fists before jumping on him, squeezing his face into your chest as hard as you can while layering kiss after kiss on him

The sore butt isn't very nice, but he decides he can make peace with it!

Cute isn't the first thing that comes to mind when you see your darling husband. Handsome, certainly. Refined, even. A big dork, absolutely!

Though it's during an evening tea time on the terrace when you first look at him and feel such… positive emotions that it makes your teeth clench and hands ache to pinch and squish his cheeks

He's beside you on the swing, having a sip from his teacup as the warm sun sets. His hair is silky and long, his lashes practically kissing his pale skin as he enjoys the warm tea

Your hands are already clasped together, fingers laced tightly. Byakuya can't help but run his thumb over your wedding band; it's a Kuchiki family heirloom and it's never looked better than right on your finger

And you'll swear on your life that when you brought his hand to your lips, it was just for a kiss to his knuckles

But your jaw had other plans, and that's when you oh so gently bite his hand. It isn't for long, and you do place an apologetic kiss after!

And then you realize yourself right after, and look up to find steel blue eyes staring at you with quizzical undertones

“What on earth are you doing?”

Laughing nervously, heat flushes the back of your neck. “I… I don't know. You looked so… so cute and sweet that I couldn't help myself.”

“Hm. Consider yourself, should this urge rise again. Such behavior is unbecoming of a Kuchiki, as you are aware.”

An attempt to hide how flustered and perhaps even pleased he is behind his next draw of tea is fruitless versus the pastel pink on the bridge of his nose

Despite living in a constant state of bastard, you find that Kūgo is often quite adorable!

He pouts rather habitually, though he doesn't always mean to

Whether he's rolling out pasta dough or working on his latest charcoal drawing, his lips press together in his bout of concentration, and sometimes the little pink tip of his tongue peeks out too

He loves to be on the receiving end of your overwhelming positive feelings so much that you almost think he does these things intentionally

But he's a bad actor, so it can't ever be anything but genuine

You hear some rustling downstairs and check the time: Kūgo must be home from his night out with his friends

You round the corner to see him sitting halfway up the stairs, his long body stretching out as he reaches towards you with a dopey smile on his face; he's plastered

And you want to be angry! He promised not to get drunk; you're set to have brunch with your parents tomorrow, and he's quite the bitch when he's hungover!

But then he makes the grabby hands and that pout comes to his lips, and his big brown eyes are so sad now too

“You're so cute, I wanna die.” You hop down to his level and crush him in a hug, swaying side to side as you coo, blowing a raspberry on his cheek too

Kūgo giggles at that, his cheeks turning red as he begs you to stop!

Which, of course, only continues the cycle! It takes ten minutes before you can finally get up to bed!

He's not quite as cute when he's hungover, but there's still enough of something precious in the man's pathetic, self-inflicted misery to earn him a kiss on the cheek

[hambiichu]

LOVE FOR HIS FAMILY

------

With a pink skirt, a tiara on his head, hello kitty hair pins and false butterfly wings on his back, Levi sat with his three daughters. His face was smudged with makeup that his girls tried to make him more... amiable to their tea party.

You already go to work early, and the station's cases are becoming more and more difficult to solve without your clever thinking and diligent efforts to apprehend these criminals and put them behind bars. Levi, your sweet, gentle, and stoic husband, must stay with the girls today. Fortunately, you and he have a flexible schedule that allows you to alternate watching over them.

Being the strongest man and the nation's alleged rescuer of humanity police, Levi was extremely appreciative of the flexible schedule. He doesn't want it to happen again, as both of your schedule before wasn't flexible enough throughout your pregnancy, you and him would frequently argue, toss things, and use harsh language against one another. Days and weeks would pass without neither of you break the ice.

It was a mistake, in his opinion, to have a family immediately after marriage without any planning and under the strain of his job. He still feels regret for those things, despite the fact that everything is now stable and tranquil. He constantly makes reparations for you—not because he regrets anything, but rather because he loves and cares about you. You are his wife, his passion in life, and the person who softens his cold heart.

You claimed that it's all in the past, that it's okay, and that not all relationships are ideal. In addition to being more critical of his words and behaviour, he should have greater empathy for the circumstances.

He abruptly stopped thinking and turned to face his daughter, who shares your eyes, yet she has pale skin and black hair like Levi, "Papa, would you like another tea?" she asked.

With a nod, he extended his hand and gently grasped the teacup. She poured his teacup into a fictitious pot of hot water while humming proudly and creating a whooshing motion with her arms. Levi puts it to his lips and pretends to sample the flavour of the so-called honey his girls created by making slurping sounds with his pinky finger extended and licking his lips.

"Mmm. Delicious." He smiles as he watches his girls laugh and giggle with joy. As he looks at them, he muses that perhaps he should concentrate more on the present since he thinks about the past too frequently.

Ultimately, he has the family he always desired, and your unwavering support is what he had always wanted as a partner and a husband. He promised himself he would learn from the past and move on, not dwell on it any longer.

He had all he desired at this moment, and he asked himself why he still holds onto the past. Even though he is aware of his sins, he understands that he has changed for you and the girls and is no more the same man he was before.

Not a moment long, you came home and stopped as you almost let out a snort to see Levi dressed up.

"Dont laugh." Levi's eye twitch.

"I'm not! Did they really use that much makeup?" you ask, grinning, shaking your head as you kneel down to your girls approaching you as soon as they notice you've returned home.

"Mama!" They say in unison.

Levi's face warm at the sight, the past may hurt but he's happy where he is now.

-----

This had been in my draft last month so Id been thinking of writing father Levi.

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: According to Baghra, there is only one person who can save her son. You—his first love and a witch who can control the powers of the Darkling. Aleksander becomes a prisoner of the Sun Summoner and King Nikolai, and you are to control and watch over him as he works for his redemption... but does he have the strength and will to continue fighting? And while everyone is busy saving Ravka from Fjerda and Shu Han, you're busy saving Aleksander from himself. Even though he doesn't want you around anymore... Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~

"I don't like this," Nikolai grumbles as he, Baghra, and Alina walk deeper into the forest near Ulensk. "Wouldn't it be easier for us to just kill him?"

Alina tenses as she hears the howling of wolves nearby. She weakens her ball of light slightly and instinctively approaches Baghr. Ever since they destroyed the fold, Fjerda and Shu Han have become... more daring in their travels near the border. Something Aleksander had warned her about. She didn't want to risk running into one of the Fjerdan's stray troops.

"We are not like him. He deserves one last chance before we get rid of him." Nikolai sighs and nods. They walk in silence for a few more minutes until they finally reach a small clearing. Baghra stands, staring at one spot.

"Shine more brightly." She orders Alina and kneels down.

Baghra takes out a dagger and cuts her hand. She smears her blood across the leaves, mumbling words under her breath in old Ravkan. Alina and Nikolai look at each other uncertainly when suddenly the branches of the surrounding trees grow. They connect with each other, creating an impenetrable wall around the three of them. Nikolai reaches for his sword, and Alina instinctively reaches into her pocket for her amplifier. The fog thickens around them and the ground shakes slightly as a small wooden hut rises from beneath it.

"I'll go first." Baghra announces and stands up.

"No. We're all going together."

"She's probably not a big fan of yours, Sankta Alina." Baghra sneers, sending the girl a mocking look. "I better get her ready for you."

Alina stubbornly follows Baghra, ignoring her words and disapproving look. Nikolai reluctantly joins the two women, and so the three of them cross the threshold of the small hut.

They enter a living room full of bookshelves and various crystals. A fire burns in the fireplace, and the air smells of lavender from the incense burning on a table covered with various pots, magnifying glasses, and metal tools. The candles burn a little brighter when the door behind them suddenly closes with a loud bang.

"Millennium, and you haven't learnt to knock? Besides, I thought you hated draught." Baghra rolls her eyes at your mocking voice.

You push past the uninvited guests and sit down at the table. You sip your tea and throw the crystal into the cauldron, then set it over the fire burning in your fireplace.

"You probably know what my son has been up to lately?"

"Aleksander has always been an ambitious man. I thought we were all aware of that fact." Alina feels an unpleasant pang in her chest when you use the Darkling's true name when you refer to him. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the unwanted feelings.

"You call the creation and expansion of the fold ambitious?" Alina asks you, irritated. Baghra elbows her in the ribs, but she ignores it completely, giving you a stern, appraising look.

"And you probably think that destroying it was ambitious, right, little sunbeam?" You mock her without even looking at her. Alina doesn't like it at all.

"That was the right thing to do. That was needed to be done."

"Anything that helps you sleep better at night, sunshine. But you realise that now the Fjerdans and the rest will be entering Ravka as if it were their own land, right? If you think the fold was a problem for Grisha, just wait until all the kidnapping, rape, and experimentation on your people begins. I'd love to see what desperate move you will make next when you realise that your problems are only beginning, oh holy Sankta Alina of the Fold."

"I'm not here to discuss Ravka's future with you."

"You shouldn't be here at all." You state, and yawn boredly. You go to the fireplace and take your pot. You put it on the table and stir the dissolved crystal. You prepare a form to pour the mass, but first you add a few leaves and flowers to the substance.

"We need your help. With maintaining control over Aleksander."

"Oh really? Do you remember that time you told me to fuck off because I was of no use to you or your son?" You remind her, smirking as she clenches her teeth and fists, barely controlling her anger. "Besides, Aleksander has never been the submissive type... did it stay that way, Sankta Alina?" You almost laugh as you see the girl blush madly as she can't find her tongue at your comment.

"I… we never…"

"Oh really? Well, my mistake. And your loss." You say, winking at her and giving her a wolfish grin. Baghra clears her throat, drawing your attention for a moment.

"If you don't help us, they will kill him." You frown, setting down all your tools and turning to face the trio. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you carefully choose your next words.

“And remind me, why should I care?”

"I thought you liked your immortality." Baghra nods at your necklace. You wrap your hand around the small heart and swallow, examining her carefully.

"He told you?" You ask in shock, looking at the old woman.

"Of course not. It's Aleksander. I found out on my own." You roll your eyes and fold your arms at her accusatory tone of voice.

"Don't blame him for something you taught him yourself." You respond calmly, giving her a pointed, hard look. Baghra tenses and looks away from you to the crystals hanging above your table. The tension in the room is palpable as you both reminisce about old times.

Maybe centuries ago you managed to break through the wall Aleksander had placed around his heart and see the real him, but just as long ago as you gained access to the deepest and darkest part of him, you lost it long ago and quickly.

"Will you go with us?" Baghra growls, not meeting your eyes. You swallow hardly, thinking about it. You knew that there would come a time to right the wrongs of your past; you just didn't think it would happen so soon. Although, was 500 years a short time?

"And do I have another choice in this situation?" You sigh, knowing full well that it was time for you to join this great war the Summoners were leading.

Ravka needed you.

Aleksander needed you.

“What are you thinking about?” You whisper, placing small kisses on his neck—everywhere you can reach without taking your head off his shoulder.

You and Aleksander lie in the tent, listening to the crickets play their nightly tunes around you. You curl up against him, taking in his warmth as you both catch your breath after completing some... quite enjoyable and pleasant activities.

“How soft your skin is... just as if I were wearing the finest silk.” You snort at his words and prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. You stroke his cheek with your hand, ignoring the prickly two-day stubble on his face, and lean down to whisper in his ear.

"Not that I don't appreciate your ability to fire off compliments so quickly, but I really want to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours."

Aleksander sighs heavily and pulls you to him. He kisses you full of passion and ardour, as if you hadn't just given yourself over to each other's desires a few minutes ago. You sigh quietly, allowing him to distract you for a moment with a heated kiss as he climbs on top of you again, trapping you in the cage of his arms.

You place your hands on his chest and reluctantly pull away from his kiss. You pull him closer to you so he rests his forehead against yours, and you inhale his scent, enjoying his closeness.

"I still remember my question, how about you?"

He sighs, playing with your hair. He closes his eyes and gives you one last, short kiss before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You sigh, lying pressed against his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. Aleksander plays with your hair, drawing patterns on your scalp with his fingers. He gathers his thoughts, pulling you closer to him and swallows hard before finally speaking again.

"I saw Ulla." You frown, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. You gently trace patterns on his arm with your fingertips, watching him closely as he mentions his sister.

"How is she?"

"Besides the fact that that idiot broke her heart? Very… lonely from what she told me." You sigh and press a kiss on his shoulder. He gives you a small half-smile and runs a hand through your hair.

"She needs time to heal. You'll see, you'll complain again that she and I spend too much time at the fairs and by the lakes and that she's stealing me from you." You joke, hoping to hear him chuckle, but he just sighs deeply, still haunted by thoughts of his sister.

"I asked her to return. To me. To us." He says thoughtfully and unconsciously tightens his grip on you, as if he were afraid that you might slip out of his arms at any moment.

"She didn't agree, I assume?" You ask quietly, cupping his cheek in your hand and stroking it tenderly with your thumb.

You want to give him all the physical closeness he needs. Give him every little reassurance that for now you're staying and you're not going anywhere. Or at least you hope to stay with him a little longer...

"Every person close to me, whether from my family or not, eventually leaves me. And never comes back. I'm afraid it'll be the same with her. I've buried a lot of brothers and sisters... but Ulla... it's different with her. I've taken care of her since she was a child. From the very beginning. I know she won't live as long as I, but... I'm sick of everyone leaving me."

"Ulla loves you. She won't leave you for long… I hope so."

"And would you come back to me? If we somehow got separated... would you return if I asked you to?" He asks, looking at you carefully.

In a heartbeat. You think about it, but you don't tell him. You don't want to give him false hope. Instead, you press lazy kisses along the column of his neck and jaw.

"Depends on how passionately you would ask me to…" You whisper seductively against his ear. A smirk appears on his face, and he raises an eyebrow, giving you a wicked, suggestive look.

“Greedy little thing.” He mumbles, nuzzling your cheek. His lips descend to your neck, where he sucks a hickey. You moan, exposing more of your neck to him and grinding against him.

“That’s why you love me.” You whine as he pushes you onto your back and presses his chest against yours. He cups your cheek in his hand, staring at you as if he’s trying to memorise and engrave every little detail of your face into his memory.

"I love you for more than that, little witch…" He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

A shiver of desire courses through you again. You pull him to you and kiss him passionately, digging your fingers into his shoulder as his hand wanders below your collarbone and cups your breast. He massages and kneads your body, plays with your nipple, and all you can think about is how good you feel under him, how he makes you experience pleasure so intense that you doubt you'll find it with anyone else.

You don't want to look for anything else. You want to be under him forever, intoxicated by the touch of his soft lips and rough hands as he takes you apart into tiny pieces, showing you the secrets of unimaginable and immense pleasure that makes you feel like you can't breathe anymore.

And you find yourself wanting to stop breathing if it meant that you would stay with him forever.

"From where exactly did you get your powers? Grisha are born that way, what about you? Has your family been witches for generations?" The young king of Ravka's question tears you from your thoughts.

"Why this curiosity, Your Highness?" You reply teasingly, watching him closely as you all rode horses to the capital.

You had been on the road for a few days now, and you were now leading them to one special place. Alina and Baghra, when they weren't giving you suspicious glances, were whispering to each other. Meanwhile Nikolai was trying to keep you occupied with conversation. He turned out to be a pleasant traveling companion. Not like certain women.

"A good king should take an interest in his subjects and know what kind of people live within the walls of his kingdom." His simple answer surprises you a little. The kings of his dynasty had a... completely different approach to this. Your years had taught you to distrust all monarchs, but this young king really did seem different from them all. You wondered how quickly he would fall.

"I am not your subject. I may live in Ravka, but neither I nor my family have ever sworn allegiance to the kings frim your dynasty. And we don't intend to."

"I see… so a free spirit? A woman of the world, as they call it?" You chuckle at this, shaking your head gently.

"You could say that. We sleep where we have comfortable moss under our heads, under the open sky with the stars as our guardians. I and the witches of my tribe are one with nature, with the earth, with what grows and dies on it. We are the guardians of the circle of life."

"However, not all of them decide to be in this cycle of life and follow it." Baghra points this out scathingly. You turn in your saddle to look at her for a moment.

"My immortality is no problem for Mother Nature, Baghra. Neither is yours. Nor is Aleksander's, or your little saint's. But it is in my care that the whole world does not suddenly become immortal. There is a worse evil in your shadows than you, volcra or nichevo'ya. And if I could go back in time, I would do the exact same thing… maybe just in a different way."

You shift your gaze from the old woman to the lakes before you, leading your horse onto a side path. You were not far from your destination place. You close your eyes and sigh, trying not to bring up any more memories of your past... any memories of HIM.

Yet, no matter how many years you have lived, you have never been able to contain your burning feeling of regret whenever you remembered what happened between you and Shadow Summoner.

"So? From where did you get your powers?" Nikolai pursues the topic, wanting to know the answer to his question. You run a hand through your hair and pull the hood over your head, realizing you won't get far without an answer. Autumn was coming. Cold autumn.

"The witches' coven I belong to accepts a new member every 100 years. In exchange for the powers the new witch receives from Mother Nature, she must sacrifice something."

"So what did you sacrifice? Your mortality?"

"No. She has sacrificed her ability to lie. She can only tell the truth. But do not be deceived. Even without that, she can conceal part of the truth and mislead you." Baghra answers for you. You roll your eyes at her, scanning the area. You smile when you see a familiar pine tree.

"I had a reason to do that. It was not an act of cunning on my part. I had to unless... that's not important now. Besides, I am far from a master like you, Baghra." You hear Nikolai chucklea softly as you speed up your horse. You reach the tree and dismount, sighing in relief as your feet touch the ground.

You walk to the tree and lean your hand against it. You grab one of the crystals you keep in your pocket and the dagger. You make a hole in the tree's bark and insert the crystal. You whisper a few words under your breath and sigh, feeling the wind on your skin. The water in the lake splits in half. You turn around with a small smile on your lips.

"Hello Ulla." You greet Aleksander's sister with a smile, watching Baghra turning pale from the corner of your eye as she faces the daughter she abandoned ages ago.

Best day of your life.

"How is he?" You ask Aleksander's sister when she returns from the cell they're keeping him in. The brown-haired one snorts, jumping onto your bed and taking your glass of whisky from you.

Today, your little group finally made it to the capital. The first thing Ulla did was visit her brother. She looked older than the last time you saw her. Streaks of grey hair were starting to appear on her head, and you swear you saw a few wrinkles on her face. Time had done its thing to her. Your heart ached at the thought that in 300 years, she might not be here anymore...

"Angry, frustrated, resigned. At first, I didn't recognise him at all. Those scars... and he... he doesn't have that twinkle in his eyes like he used to. Like... like he doesn't care anymore. He was excited to see me, but this... this isn't the same Aleksander he was before. I felt like a stranger was standing before me, not Sasha. Baghra was right. Something's wrong with him."

"I'll kill their little saint. And your mother." You growl completely mad at them both because of the state they brought Aleksander to and get out of your bed. You go to the closet and put on one of your grey coats, ignoring the mischievous look Ulla gives you.

"You still love him, don't you?" You roll your eyes at her and shove your hands into your pockets, making sure you have a few crystals there in case you need to use your magic.

"I forgot how much you love coming up with your conspiracy theories. Which by the way are very annoying."

"You're not answering my question." She replies with a smirk. She walks over to you and gently smooths your hair. You snort, pushing her hands away, knowing full well that she's getting you ready to meet her brother.

"It's no secret that I care about him. We spent a good few years together, almost a century if I remember correctly. Is it possible to just forget about someone like that?"

"I don't think so. You should have seen his reaction when I told him you came here with me. I thought he had a heart attack." You groan at her words, disbelieving that she was actually playing matchmaker between you and her brother right now.

"You told him?!"

"You go to him anyway. What's the problem?" She replies indignantly, walking back to your bed and laying down on it. You roll your eyes at her, and with a wave of your hand, the pillow she had under her head disappears. Ulla shouts at you angrily, and you quickly materialise the pillow in your hands and throw it at the woman.

"Because of you, I lost all the element of surprise that I could have used on him to get some information!" You growl at her angrily, grabbing and throwing away the pillow she threw at you. You jump on the bed and pin her to the mattress, laughing at her as she growls, trying to get out from under you.

"Wait! Wait! I'll tell you how he reacted to that!!" She screams from under the pillow you've started to smother her with. You lift the pillow enough to look at her face.

"How? He made those big, puppy eyes of his and asked you to free him from his cell so he could run to me and give in to his long-held passion and feelings?" You mock her as you climb off of her. You lean against the wooden bedpost, watching her try to catch her breath.

"More or less… he asked what you looked like, how you were, if we had met before… if you were with someone." She says maliciously, giving you a big, sly, wolfish smile.

"You're joking, right?" You ask her, trying to hide your surprise under a neutral, bored tone.

"No. Our Sasha wanted to know if you had someone for his place."

"Is that exactly how he put it in words?"

"Well… maybe not." She replies after a moment, running a hand through her hair. You sigh, shaking your head at her in disbelief. So many years, and sometimes she still behaved like a child.

"Ulla." You growl at her and reach for the pillow again.

"Okay, okay. No need to be violent. He asked if Baghra had also sent for you, so that you could fly in on your magic broom and stab him in the heart once and for all, or if you had found yourself a new more intersting toy, but hey, at least he was interested and asked!"

"Poor consolation."

"You know how Sasha is." You sigh in resignation at this. You bite your lip so hard that you taste your own blood on your tongue. You promised yourself that you wouldn't get your hopes up… Aleksander and you were a long-finished affair. No matter what his sister thought.

"I know him too good to have any illusion that he sees me as anything more than an enemy and a traitor." You answer and get out of bed, mentally preparing yourself to meet him.

"Where are you going?!"

"To him! A day without tormenting him is a wasted day!" You shout over your shoulder and close the door behind you.

You walk lazily through the corridors of the Grand Palace, as if deliberately prolonging the moment of seeing Aleksander, and head towards the second building in the royal courtyard. You sigh again as the majestic panorama of the Little Palace unfolds before you.

Looking at the beautiful, imposing building, you reluctantly recall the plans your Shadow Summoner made centuries ago.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming up behind him as he sits at one of the tables in the library of the town you’re staying in for a few nights.

Aleksander bounces slightly in his chair and quickly shoves his sketchbook and art supplies into his bag. You frown, wondering what he's hiding from you, when he turns to you with that damn distracting smirk on his face.

"Nothing important, milaya. Were you looking for me? Do you need anything?" He asks and walks over to you, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead tenderly before he wraps his arm around your waist and starts leading you out of the library.

"Your mother was looking for you. She needs babysitters for Ulla again." You say, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his scent. You wrinkle your nose at the familiar scent of burning metal and sweat from his work at the forge. He laughs at your reaction and pulls you closer to him, making sure you don't pull away from him despite everything.

"I know, I need to take a bath. But I hope you will help me?"

"Taking a bath?" You ask suggestively, laughing as he blushes all shyly and looks at you nervously.

"No!" He almost screams and buryes his face in your hair with a groan as you continue to laugh at him. "Taking care of Ulla."

"Always. But first…" you start and reach into his bag. You pick out his sketchbook and run forward, looking for the page he was working on so furiously in the library before you spoke.

“Y/N, no!” Aleksander shouts and runs after you. A few long strides of his, and you’re pinned to the ground by him. You laugh and struggle under him, but your struggle is futile. He quickly rips the sketchbook out of your hands and puts it somewhere safe before he pins your wrists to the ground. "You can't look into it without my permission. It is... personal."

"Sorry, handsome." You say and kiss his blushing cheek. You giggle as he lets go and climbs off of you. Before he can stand up, you snuggle into his back and wrap your arms around him. Your nose brushes his ear as you whisper quietly. "But you're so secretive lately… you know I don't like to not know what's in that pretty little head of yours. If you don't want to talk, then don't, but I just want to know if everything's okay and if there's nothing steaming up under your skull."

"I'm fine… I just... I will tell you in our room in tavern." You nod at his words and grab his hand. He gives you a small smile as you both walk through town, ignoring the looks you get from passersby who witness your little skirmish.

Once you're there, Ulla runs straight to Aleksander, wrapping her little arms tightly around his legs. The little one cries into his pants, sobbing that she thought you had abandoned her. The sight breaks your heart and makes you want to cut Baghra up and roast him into little pieces.

Aleksander abandons his bag and embraces the girl in a tight embrace. He goes to one of the single beds and tries to calm her down, whispering soft words of reassurance into her ear that he will never leave her. You sigh and pick up Aleksander's bag. You put it back on the hanger and briefly consider peeking in.

You abandon the idea and head back to the two of them to join in the group hug. You silently worry about what your "boyfriend" might have come up with. You're afraid it'll be something for your ring finger.

A moment later, as Ulla falls asleep with her head on your lap, Aleksander returns with dinner for the three of you. His sketchbook is tucked under his arm.

"I want to show you something." He whispers and sets the food on the nightstand next to your double bed. He crouches down next to the sinle bed where the two of you are and opens the book. Your heart is beating like crazy, your hands shaking as you take the leather-bound book from him.

"What is this?" You ask, looking closely at the outline of a grand building. It looked almost like a palace.

"I... I know this life isn't one of the best we could have... but it's still one of the best I've ever had. Of course it's all thanks to you and Ulla. I... I have a proposition before me. A very serious one. If I play my cards right, I'd like to build a place for the three of us. And for the other Grisha who are in need of their own safe place. Can you imagine? No more working in some shitty places, no more hiding our identity... it could be really nice, right?"

You sigh, gently placing Ulla's head on the pillow. You take Aleksander's hand and lead him to your bed. You both sit up slowly as you think about everything he's just told you.

"That... would be nice. But... Aleksander, this is a palace. The king would never agree; you know how he feels about us. Tell me you're not getting involved in anything dangerous." You sigh and place your hand on his cheek. He buries his face in your palm and closes his eyes. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses a kiss to your temple before burying his nose in your hair.

"I'll be fine… but I'm tired of hiding. It's time to come out of the shadows… start using my powers and do something good not only for us, but for the other Grisha. Too many of us have died because of their stupidity."

"And I don't want your name added to that long list. Ulla needs you, and I'd rather have you alive with me, too." You mumble into his neck, holding on to him tighter.

"Is this your way of saying that you love me?" He asks teasingly, drawing patterns on your back with his fingers.

"That's my way of telling you that if you die, I'll find some damn spell or some other way to bring you back to life just so I can skin you for being such an idiot to get yourself killed."You growl quietly so as not to wake up Ulla and pull away from him to look into his eyes. Aleksander swallows, realising how true your words are.

"I'm not leaving you… not on purpose. I will always do everything in my power to come back to you. I promise." He whispers and kisses you sweetly, softly, thus sealing his promise.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to you. You fall onto the mattress on your back with him above you and surrender to the blissful feeling of his arms around you.

You try to enjoy this as long as you can.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the door to his cell. Sankta Alina and her king Nikolai have taken pity on him enough to set up cells for him in his former general's quarters. Of course, only after they've thoroughly searched the room. Such a petty act of malice.

You take one deep breath and enter the chamber.

It's dark there. Terribly dark. You can barely see your fingers as you close the door behind you. You reach for the crystal in your pocket and pull it out, holding it like a torch. You mutter the appropriate spell under your breath, and suddenly light emanates from the gem. You sigh as you see Aleksander standing just outside the bars, already staring at you intently.

"Aleksander." You whisper, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling you get from looking at the scars on his face and the fact that he hasn't spoken or made a fucking move yet. Not even for an inch. You doubt if he even blinks once since you entered. The son of a bitch was trying to intimidate you and scare you away. "Did they cut out your tongue?" You scoff, walking up to him and giving him an equally crazy, psychopathic look.

"Will you ever learn how to knock?"

"You seem to be very aware of my presence even before I open this door. Unless you have so many guests here that you simply cannot tear yourself away from these bars?"

"Too much lately." He hisses in irritation through clenched teeth, at which you roll your eyes.

"Hmm… good thing I'm not your guest." You say sarcastically and wave your hand, teleporting one of the chairs from his cell/chamber to the other side of the bars. You sit comfortably in front of him with the light-emitting crystals in your lap and just look at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I guess if I don't do this, you'll never get out of here, so there you go. Why are you here?" He asks after a long moment of silence, sighing as he finally gives up.

"I have been given a task by Their Royal Highnesses." You scoff, watching as the frown on his forehead deepens as he ponders the hidden meaning behind your words. "Aren't you curious what it might be?"

"With their brains? No big deal, I suppose." He mocks them and steps away from the bars. He pours himself a glass of whisky and sits down at a table with maps spread out on it. You raise an eyebrow at how... convenient he is. You don't remember the guest room they assigned you having such comforts.

"Yet they have locked you up here… without powers I suppose? I cannot feel your shadows." You see his fingers tighten angrily around the glass. You make a mental note that this is clearly not a pleasant topic for him.

"Still have that pendant?" He asks, nodding at you when he spots your heart-shaped pendant. You tense up and pull your knees to your chest, blocking his view of the necklace.

"Apparently. Would I be here if I didn't have it?" You answer carefully, fully aware of the game you're playing with Aleksander now. Everything you said was meant to hurt the other, to prove that you weren't impressed at all by being in the other's presence again. Even if you both had some... strong feelings at the sight of the other, you wouldn't admit it.

All that mattered now was who would win and hit the hardest, breaking the mask of indifference that you both tried so hard to keep on your faces... although his eyes tell you a little that your presence here isn't so irritating and indifferent to him at all.

"Of course not. After all you don't have a heart of your own."

You smile, trying not to show how his words really affected you. You internally regret that he went from being the person you trusted with all your worries to someone you wouldn't let see even a glimmer of pain in your eyes.

"Ouch. That hurt. And here I tried to be nice and inform you that for now on I am your guard and I oversee your resocialization process."

"I beg you pardon?" He asks in shock as you casually play with the gem in your hands. Aleksander watches closely as the light from it reflects off your fingers, face, chin, cheeks, lips…

"Just like you heard, honey. We'll be spending more time together again, aren't you happy?" You reply with a mocking smile and watch him carefully, gauging how he reacts to this new message.

"Resocialization? Does the fact that I wanted to help Grisha make me some kind of criminal from Ketterdam?"

"Words of Sankta Alina, not mine. Your ex probably doesn't like you very much. And from what I heard, you started destroying villages. You know who used such practices, right?" At the reference to his mother, he becomes even more gloomy. You get the feeling that if he could still control his shadows, he would at that very moment engulf the room in total darkness.

"Alina is not my ex." He merely comments as he adjusts the fastenings of his all-black kefta.

"My bad."

He stares at you for a long moment. You feel your skin burn where his eyes linger a little longer. You take advantage of that time to watch him too, searching for any slight changes in him since you last saw him.

"You, of all people, are supposed to lead me to the good, righteous path? This is ridiculous." You snort, also amused by the absurdity of this situation. Out of the two of you, N had always been the more... righteous one. Ironically, you were the one who was supposed to dig up the last remnants of his morality.

"Well, for some reason they want you alive. And they want you to cooperate. I'm supposed to be… a go-between in all of this mess."

"More like an infernal messenger of the devil." You smile, shaking your head. Aleksander tries to ignore the slight flutter in his heart and the pleasant warmth spreading through him as he witnesses your smile again.

"You always knew how to give me such beautiful compliments."

"They are desperate, aren't they? Destroying the fold didn't help and now they don't know what to do and want my advice? Tell your masters it's too late now." He says, returning to the main topic. He stands up from the war table, and you see him heading deeper into his chambers, probably his bedroom. With a wave of your hand, you close the door in his face before he has a chance to leave the room.

"You know very well that I have no master over me." You tell him, standing up from the chair as he slowly turns to face you.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you Y/N?" He asks, slowly approaching you. You shiver when you hear your name on his tongue. You clench your hands behind you as he slowly approaches you. The tension in the room is immense as you both stand as close to the bars as you can.

"Well, apparently neither do you." You whisper, trying to ignore the way he smelled so wonderful, how in an instant his closeness and the warmth he radiated made you feel at home again. How much you wanted to sink back into his arms and his sheets…

"Why are you here?" He asks, but is met only by your silence and a cold gaze that almost makes him tremble. "Don't you have other things on your mind? You're not going to tell me that this is only for my sake? I know perfectly well that you wouldn't return if I asked you. So why did you listen to my mother and also bring Ulla?"

"You don't know if I would come back. You never asked." You respond, your voice barely above a quiet purr. There’s a long silence after your words. He lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the bars—dangerously close to your cheek.

"And are you surprised?"

"No. Actually, I am not."

You examine the scars on his face and barely manage to stop yourself from slipping your fingers between the bars and tracing them with your fingertips. Aleksander holds his breath, his lips twitching as he resists any movement under your watchful gaze.

He fights with himself not to reach for you and brush his fingers against your soft, velvety skin, or check that you're actually here in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, reminding him how dangerous you are and that he can't trust you like he did. Which doesn't change the fact that he wants it so much.

"Gently, Ivan." You frown, not understanding what he means.

"What..." You're not allowed to finish. You feel your heartbeat slow down, and you slip into unconsciousness, only noticing the red and black kefta of one of his heartrenders out of the corner of your eye.

Your vision blurs, you slowly fall asleep, and all you can see before you collapse into the heartrender's arms are Aleksander's black eyes.

The son of a bitch ordered one of his men to put you to sleep and carry you out of his cell. Bastard.

[sl-newsie]

I Have A Bad Feeling About This (Dr. Spencer Reid x Girlfriend OC) *Star Wars Day Special!*

Summary: Spencer's girlfriend comes into the office and he's worried about what reaction her stunning Star Wars attire will bring.

Morgan groans and takes a long sip of coffee. “Listen, pretty boy, can you please give us some peace and quiet for ten minutes?”

It’s been a usual day of office work. The BAU team has been graced with a day without a case so everyone’s been cooped up doing paperwork. Of course Spencer, being the chatterbox he is, had to go into lecture mode the second Garcia commented on his Star Wars pin on account of the occasion of Star Wars Day. She herself is wearing a new shirt with a cute Grogu on the front holding a tea mug. That sparked a whole talk about culture stereotypes.

“The Star Wars fans’ battle with Trekkies is similar to ethnocentrism. Our country’s form of ethnocentrism is a lot more open to other cultures and practicing multiculturalism compared to other countries due to the fact that the U.S. is supposed to be a melting pot for all cultures, however we sometimes tend to lean towards more broad-minded and influenced decisions rather than traditional and fair values.”

Just then a young woman walks in and stands to wait at the edge of the room. But not any normal-looking woman. This one is wearing a tan long-sleeved tunic with a matching sash and brown belt, in addition to brown trousers, boots, and an easily-noticeable cloak. What else is unsubtle about her appearance are the strange white markings on her face. It appears to be makeup but nothing like any normal trends.

Spencer doesn’t notice her yet but Prentiss keeps looking between her and the picture of Spencer’s girlfriend on his desk. Her hair is the same shade and without the makeup she almost looks the same…

“You must be Amelia!” Prentiss calls out and the lady nods shyly. 

The rest of the team looks over and is surprised to see the costumed woman waving at them. Spencer’s eyes widen. He must have lost track of the time. Amelia was going to meet him after work and then they were going to watch Star Wars films. How long has he kept her waiting? A quick glance at his phone shows a few texts from her asking about him. The team hasn’t met her yet- And it has to be when she’s dressed up. What are they going to think about this introduction? The concern leads Spencer to have a bad feeling about this.

Prentiss smiles and beckons the costumed woman closer. “Spencer’s mentioned you a few times. We were beginning to wonder if you really existed.”

Amelia strides over and Morgan eyes her strange makeup. “Did you join a cult?”

Her eyebrows rise and she does a double-take to remember what she looks like. Amelia never planned on coming into Spencer’s workplace today but it’s been over an hour since their planned meeting time. After he never answered her texts she began to worry. He always tells her if there’s an unexpected case- She thought something might have happened. But there’s no cause for alarm. She overreacted and instead found her boyfriend and his team working after hours. 

If this were any other day she would be wearing “normal” clothes and no unusual makeup. She reminds herself that not everyone dresses up on Star Wars Day. Amelia, however, doesn’t feel flustered. The team’s reaction is no different from any other glance she’s received all day.

“Oh, no! This is part of my Star Wars attire,” Amelia explains awkwardly, looking down at her costume. “It’s the one time a year I can get away with it without looking like, well, a cultist.”

Garcia looks out from her office and her eyes light up at the sight of the newcomer. She hurries out and approaches Amelia with a wide smile.

“I love it! How long did it take to do your hair?”

Amelia reaches up to touch her multiple braids that are twisted into a bun. “Almost an hour. You must be Penelope! Good to finally meet you!”

At that time, Spencer looks up to see Rossi walking down the stairs. The Italian notices the gathering around Amelia and decides to investigate. The closer he gets the more he recognizes the familiar outfit.

“I’m Agent Rossi,” he greets and offers a handshake. “I see that you aren’t letting societal standards stop you from dressing up.”

There it is. The elephant in the room. Of course Rossi is the one to address it. But he does so in a professional way. Amelia doesn’t feel uneasy about the attention. Meanwhile Spencer is holding his breath as Morgan gets a teasing smirk.

“And I thought Reid was the nerd- ouch!”

Prentiss elbows him in the rib and Morgan shuts up. She steps in front of him and gives Amelia another smile.

“Who are you supposed to be?”

“Oh, I’m just a standard Jedi Knight,” Amelia shrugs. “That’s what I love about Star Wars. You can dress up as any usual Jedi, bounty hunter, or civilian and still fit in with the lore.”

“I remember seeing those films when they came out,” Rossi comments. “Lots of good memories.”

“What’s your favorite trilogy?” Prentiss asks Amelia.

“Originals, by far!”

“Oh, c’mon! The prequels have great lightsaber fights!” Penelope debates.

Uh-oh, Spencer thinks. Here we go.

Amelia rolls her eyes. “Half of their content is memes. The originals are more nostalgic.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Rossi agrees. “Are you up to join us for a trip to the bar?”

Any other time Amelia would have agreed. But today is a special day for her and Spencer. Not only is it a day celebrating one of their favorite franchises but it’s their 5-month anniversary. She locks eyes with Spencer and sees that he’s itching to leave as well.

“That sounds fun but we’re going back to Spencer’s apartment to binge watch.”

“Is the party in here?” Another voice calls.

Hotch walks out of his office and smiles at Amelia. He’s the only team member she’s met before all on account of encountering him and his son during a walk in the park. The sight of the acquainted leader brings a sense of ease to Amelia’s mind and she begins to relax.

“Hey, Hotch! How’s Jack?”

“Today is one of his favorite days. He asked me if he could wear his Darth Vader costume to school but I had to say no.” Hotch gives her a nod. “Nice outfit!”

“Thanks! Um, how much longer are you all-?”

Hotch checks his watch and hums. “Is that the time? Sorry, everyone. You’re all cleared for today.”

The team gives a silent cheer and begins to disperse. Spencer makes a beeline for Amelia and she can’t help but notice his pink cheeks. 

“May the force be with you!” She waves to the team members and takes his hand to lead him outside. “Ready for action and adventure in a galaxy far, far away?”

Spencer takes a look around to be sure that they’re alone before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Definitely.”

Amelia frowns at his hesitation. “Is something wrong?”

“I- I’m sorry I kept you waiting and you had to meet the team like, um, this.”

Spencer doesn’t gesture to the outfit but Amelia knows what he’s talking about. She looks down at herself and then back at him. He’s worried that I’d be embarrassed. The thought makes Amelia’s heart flutter. 

“Did I embarrass you?” She asks lightly, reaching up to play with his hair.

“No! No!” Spencer blurts and starts rambling. “I mean- Did you feel uncomfortable? I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable when you met them- I think you always look adorable in your Jedi cosplay but if you-”

He cuts himself off when Amelia wraps her arms around him for a tight hug. 

“Spencer, I’m perfectly fine with walking around in my Jedi robes in public. If anything, it’s more modest than half the trends nowadays. I don’t mind if people think it’s strange. Do you?”

“N- Not at all,” he murmurs and runs a hand over her braids. “I love your fandom enthusiasm.”

“Then let’s put your concerns to an end and get to watching some awesome space adventures!”

Amelia gives his arm a tug and they begin walking. Spencer’s whirring brain begins to slow down now that he knows. She’s right. Today isn’t about trying to fit in. It’s about enjoying a creative franchise and addressing the special commemoration. 

“In which order?” He asks with a smile, all fears put away.

Amelia tilts her head in consideration. “Good question…”

Three hours later and the couple is cuddled up on Spencer’s couch. Half-finished takeout pizza sits on the counter. Amelia’s cloak is draped over the lounge chair. The sun has set and the only light comes from the glare of the TV screen. Their hands lay interwoven between them as they gaze at the flash of lightsabers. Amelia’s white makeup appears smudged from all the kisses Spencer has given.

Spencer leans in and presses another kiss to the top of her head. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” Amelia murmurs and presses herself closer.

“I know.”

May the force be with you!

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen greet their s/o after a long tour

requested by anon: "I have a request for you : How would Seventeen react seeing you after a long time (like them being on tour, they come back and have a moment with you) ?"

notes: i liked this one a lot haha. might make an entire oneshot for one or two members if you guys end up liking it too....?

masterlist

seungcheol:

won't touch you until he's washed off the sweat and the exhaustion n the airport smell. his phone keeps vibrating with messages from members and managers and staff but he ignores all of it in favour of curling up in bed with you, asking you to tell him about everything you've done while he was away, despite you having told him everything through facetimes throughout the tour, purely bc he loves hearing your voice in person after so long

jeonghan:

collapses into your arms like all the tension is leaving his limbs all at once. cries into your shirt, tells you that he's missed you so much and he felt like he was going to positively disintegrate. whines if you laugh and call him out bc you've seen videos of him having the time of his life during tour. you have to carry him around for the rest of the day bc he will Not let go of you 

joshua:

greets you with the cheesiest grin and a "i'm home, sweetheart", fully expecting you to say "welcome home" all romance novel-style back to him. always asks for you to set up a bubble bath for him, accidentally falls asleep in it 80% of the time bc it's so warm n relaxing and has to be woken up before he disappears under the bubbles. kisses you long and soft and sweet because God, he's missed you so much

junhui:

meets up with you the day after coming back from tour bc he was basically knocked out the minute he went home n his head touched the pillow. holds your hand over the table of the coffee shop you've found yourself in, staring at you with heart eyes the entire time bc it's been so long since he's seen you in real life and he thinks you're even more beautiful than the last time he saw you

hoshi:

texts you the minute!!! the plane!!! lands!!! to let you know he's home. opens the door noisily and stands in the hallway with his arms open wide for you to just run into him and engulf him in a hug. cups your cheeks and kisses you long and hard, before pulling away to tell you he's missed you so much before leaning in to kiss you again. and again. and again and again and the door is still open but he's home and that's all that matters

wonwoo:

asks you all teasingly if you've missed him when you meet up on the agreed date three days after he's landed as you bound up to him all giddy in the park. but of course, he's missed you too, so much, and he can't take his eyes away from you as you walk hand in hand through the trees, smiling at the sound of your laugh and the warmth of your hand in his and the incredible fact that he's with you, in person, once more

woozi:

you're knocking on the door of his studio two days after he came back, bc of course he was still going to be working after coming back from an exhausting tour. lets you pull up a chair beside him to watch him work on his compositions, your hand resting on his knee, his eyes occasionally flicking to yours and giving you a smile. it's a quiet, non-dramatic thing, but it suits you well, and by his silence you can tell how glad he is to be back home to you

minghao:

you're brewing a pot of his favourite tea when he opens the door, and there's incense burning somewhere in the apartment and it's the most calm he's seen in ages. wants to wash up first so he doesn't smell so icky to you but you pull him into a chair and hand him the freshly brewed tea, insisting that he takes a moment to just sit and let time flow past him. he's smiling, softly, lovingly, because wow, he's missed you so much. 

mingyu:

does this whole dramatic fake-crying display with you the moment you open the door of your apartment after he's come back to korea as he wails rlly loudly and collapses into you while you pat his back and make equally loud sobbing sounds. tells you all the new ways the members bullied him on tour (even tho you've heard all of them already through his outraged texts) and falls asleep on your shoulder on the sofa, exhausted, but so, so comforted to be by your side again

dokyeom:

comes home with a loud clatter of keys and a joyous shout, running to find where you are. accidentally has a game of hide and seek w you bc he thinks you're in the kitchen and the bathroom and the bedroom and anywhere but the living room. finds you eventually, cries out "catch me!" before running to you and throwing his arms around you, making you fall back down onto the sofa you'd just stood up from. keeps his head in the crook of your shoulder for a solid five minutes, glad to be home to you

seungkwan:

the minute he's back in korea, he's booked a date in the next week to meet up with you bc he is just too exhausted and looks way too dishevelled to see you fresh off the plane. talks with you over coffee one fresh morning, eyes bright, hands waving animatedly, because he loves carats and he loves you. and getting to share one of his loves with his other?? for him, nothing in the world can beat that. 

vernon:

wakes up the night after he's landed to you blowing up his phone w texts bc he fell asleep right after coming home and completely forgot to tell you he'd landed. you're (jokingly) mad bc you had to find out through the news, but he makes up for it by knocking on your door not even an hour later, smiling like an idiot, asking if you'll forgive him if he cuddles you for the rest of the night. which you do, falling asleep in his arms with his fingers massaging your scalp soothingly. 

chan:

as soon as he gets home, he meets eyes with you as you're standing at the end of the hallway and suddenly you're both dropping whatever you're holding and running towards each other before colliding and falling together, arms wrapped tight around each other. he tried to lift you up and spin you around, but you crashed into him so forcefully that his knees buckled and he just held you on the floor, laughing, crying, so happy to be with you again. 

request guidelines

[da-man-si]

Everyone has a knife or sword or whip in their hand except Zhuang Shiyang with a damn tea pot in his hand which may lead you to think that he's a wholesome dude but in fact he is one of the worst fathers to have ever fathered in cdramas. In the novel, he did not care about anyone at all except climbing up position and status. You are his illegitimate kid? He hates you. You are his legitimate kid? He hates you. You are his main wife? He hates you. You are his concubine? He hates you. He was hateful, pathetic and phoney in the novel and from the four episodes of the drama I see they have kept his two-faced, selfish ass the same.

[shewhowritessometimes]

Changes

“Keeping the place like this was easy when I lived alone, but now I need to make some changes.” A prompt I saw on tumblr and thought i’d write something about it but in a sweeter tone with Simon “Ghost” Riley.

His apartment is as simple as they come. He spends most of his time away on missions to even think about putting any effort in it. But then he met you.

You, who started staying at his place more often than not. Waiting for him to come home from his missions with your sweet smile and heavenly cooking. You, who welcomes him home every single time with open arms and tightest hugs despite the fact that you can’t even close your arms around him.

“I miss you.” falling from your lips like a prayer every time he enters the door.

Until one day, Simon has finally decided it’s time to ask you to move in. There’s no sense for you to be renting your own apartment when you stay at his house all the time. 

You said yes with no second thought and before he knows it, everything has changed.

He used to only have one couch, now he has different kinds of seats in his living room which you said serve different kinds of purposes. He used to only have one set of utensils, he rarely even used them. Now? He has loads of them, different sizes even. Who even uses those small spoons which you called a “coffee spoon”? He can use any kind of spoon to stir his coffee or tea, doesn’t matter.

And pillows? He used to only have one. Now his bedroom is full of different kinds of pillows which most of the time ends up on the floor in the morning when you wake up. His apartment used to look black and white and now it’s screaming in colors. Your throw pillows on the couch in different colors that you said makes the place look more alive. 

The potted plants and flowers all around the house that you always move to the window facing east every morning because you said it might wither and die if it didn’t get enough sunlight. The walls now adorning pictures of you both together or just you and some pictures of him you have taken without his knowledge, he swears every time he comes home from a mission, there’s a new one hanging in there.

Your pretty dresses and pastel clothes in his wardrobe right next to his almost all black clothes and pants. Simon also ended up buying and assembling a vanity mirror in his room where you can put all your skin care and make up products on and where you can do your make up every time you need to.

There’s a lot of changes… but welcome ones. And you are the biggest change that he loves the most.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Evolution of Passion: Hedonistic Debauchery .

Hmmm...I think..Sangria will do nicely for this sip session. Same ingredients as the booze, just minus the booze and plus some hibiscus tea.

The final chapter of the ask from danmeiljie. "Do you have any specific headcanons about the way Astarion historically had sex and how that effects the sex he has during all three acts of the game and throughout your romance with him (including i think a brothel scene you can have even if you did not romance him)? Meaning, initiation, positioning, control, diassociation versus engaging, one on one sex versus group sex, etc? Thank you!

I know there is a lot of shade being thrown around at players who went down the orgy path. But I am not going to do that. There will be no bell, and no words of "shame" shouted within these sentences. G.O.T. is over there. Go play.

Now, let us get into this hot steaming pot of sexual misadventure. Shall we?

WARNING: Game Spoilers, Topics of Sex, Abuse, and Adult themes/Language. Not underage appropriate.

This is not fact, just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahhhh, there is nothing more rewarding than sex as payment for a job well done (laughs in ridiculous). But, in all fairness, you are in a brothel. What else would they pay you in if not poles and holes.

So, to make sense of the second half, lets look at the first half.

If Tav tries to engage in group activities before Cazador's demise, Astarion is not up for it.

He very clearly, but reluctantly, expresses this after the twins suggest adding him to the mix. His refusal starts out strong, but then disintegrates into a frown.

One thing I have picked up on for this complex Elf, is that he clears his throat when expressing a vulnerable emotion. Such as telling Tav what they are to him or his devotions towards them. "I have the upmost confidence you would do the same for me. Now excuse me while I go and regurgitate the sap rankling in my throat."

And he clears his throat here.

"Ahem. Sorry , pet, I'm not quite comfortable with doing this again yet."

(watching him assert boundaries gives me the same feelings as cute aggression. It makes me want to chew on him. I love it! Grrr rawwr nom nom nom.)

And of course he is not interested. He is not even having sex with Tav at this point in time. And Tav is someone he is in an established relationship with. Sharing intimate thoughts with everyday and trancing skin to skin with every night. Why would he suddenly be interested in having sex when strangers are involved? That would make no sense and be pretty disrespectful to Tav honestly.

To me, the tentativeness is not from a worry that Tav will force him into it, because they can't. He has already regained his ability to say no to situations involving his body and won't be swayed. It's from the subconscious worry that something else negative might happen for saying no.

The word NO was probably banned in Cazador's house and he was more than likely punished severely and often for saying it. It would be expected for him to still have those fears as boundary setting is still very new and difficult for him.

So it makes sense he could be concerned his refusal might create a negative consequence. Such as Tav choosing to sleep with the twins out of spite for withholding.

"You wont sleep with me so I will find someone who will."

Or belittling him for being precious about it.

"The one thing you are good at and you can't even do that? Pathetic."

(pardon me while I go wash my hands after typing that awful shit.)

This is apparent if Tav tries to hire one of the twins on their own.

"Enjoy yourself, of course, but I dearly hope you aren't only having sex because we haven't in awhile. hum? "

Remember, he is counting the days until midnight chimes and it all ends between them. He is still not fully trusting of Tav's feelings for him. (that pout..I can't.)

Also, does the party know that Astarion and Tav are not going bump in the night? If not, they do now. That question would have completely blown his cover as the insatiable hedonistic rake forever in search of top shelf debauchery. Awkward pause anyone?

But, he need not worry because Tav is incredible! And like Moonrise towers, if you did it that way, does not make him do anything he does not want to. Again. In fact, Tav supports his boundary by saying "Don't worry, I wouldn't ask such a thing of you." Which makes him uncomfortable.

Wait.. What?

Oh yeah, but don't fret, he's not disrespecting your respect.

"Eugh, don't be so nice to me! It makes me want to be nice back."

Ah the good ol' shield of sarcastic humor. A piece of armor Astarion wields like a master. Capable of deflecting uncomfortable situations and bashing incoming feelings.

Astarion is very private when it comes to his inner world and Tav has just publicly supported him with kindness and respect after he just admitted to something vulnerable in front of EVERYONE. Could anybody else hear him internally yelling at himself? "Fuck! You just gave up the game you idiot!"

Had they been alone I am sure he would have been a puddle of appreciation, but, there are people around. Quick! You look weak! Do something! Woosh!! Out comes the shield of sarcastic humor.

"Stop it. When you talk like that it makes me want to be nice. Gross!"

Possible looking weak disaster averted.

If Tav chose the "I would have like to, but I understand." he says nothing. Because its not a show of real support. It's very, I'm only not doing it because you have a problem with it. It sounds more like blame then understanding. And it's probably what he expected anyway. Better to be belittled than pitied. Eh?

Meh..

Now, on to the main event! I hope you brought snacks! Oh. Wait. you were the snack. HA!

When Tav suggests group actives after Cazador's well deserved, overdue, satisfying obliteration, the answer is vastly different.

"I'd like to try doing things like this again now that I'm free to find my own desires. And don't worry, Ill dart out if I don't enjoy it faster than I used to run from the sun. Ha ha."

We have already established that he cannot be manipulated into engaging in activities that involve his body when he does not want to. So I really believe he is being honest here. There is no "I'm lying out my fangs" face. No glancing at his nails or attempt to deflect reasonability by trying to put the want on Tav. "Id like to try since YOU want to".

To me, this reads as genuine interest in wanting to try. There is an undercurrent of doubt and anxiety given that the delivery is a bit overdramatized, and his expression shifts a bit. But that is to be expected. People are a bit skittish to get back in the proverbial saddle after being thrown off and trampled.

But why would he agree to it if he didn't feel solid about it?

Why do any of us do that?

Curiosity. Have you met this man?

Perhaps he is curious to see, like the first bite, if it truly is something he can do. He may think that a lot of how he felt about such things was tainted by Cazador's views and feelings and they were not fully his own. Cazador was able to control his body, why not his mind? But now he is truly free he may think that his feelings and reactions towards these activities will be different. Sex with his partner was beyond amazing that first night of freedom. Maybe this will change too? He can finally be the debauched hedonist he always claims he wants to be. Right?

But, as in life, sometimes what we hope happens vs what does happen can be quite different.

He has slipped the old persona back on and is playing the "professional". Putting himself in a position of servicing rather than receiving with them by saying "tell us what YOU want."

"It was easy. Instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in"

A clear indication that he has separated his main consciousness from this event.

And honestly, trying to please three to four people all at once is a lot to process. So many moving parts. Literally.

"That's it! He was a million miles away. That is what makes it an evil choice!"

At first glance it can seem that way. But look again.

He doesn't react negatively afterward. He doesn't break up with Tav like he did when they made him bite the drow or push sex on him. And there is no deduction of approval. He accepts that it was his choice.

One thing to remember is that disassociating is not just a coping mechanism exclusive to extreme trauma. It can be triggered in everyday life. Daydreaming, highway hypnosis, or getting lost in a book or movie are all examples of mild dissociation. Your body is on autopilot. You are relying on muscle memory and the base of your brain to do the processing.

How many times have you been lost in a book for hours only to blink and realize your ten chapters in and its 3 am? You still sipped your tea, still turned the pages, you still lost your socks, but do you really remember doing it?

How many times have you been at your job doing that same repetitive task for the hundredth time just to realize its lunch time and the task is complete without you being fully aware of what you just did?

Right?!

I think it's the same here. Astarion is once again behind the wheel of a sexual situation he has been the star of over and over and over again and is , I think, zoning out out of habit. He did the same thing with Tav in the woods and Tav wasn't hurting him. So its not pain triggered.

Now, a conversation about it afterward would have been nice.

"But, that seems unfair. In his origin run or if you ascend him, there is no mention of him mentally stepping out. It just with Tav and Tav loves him. Why? "

The content of his experience is different.

Ascended Astarion doesn't care about anybody but himself and his consort. So he indulges without reciprocating.

Origin Spawn Astarion initiated the encounter himself. He made the decision to hire the twins for his own pleasure so he is more engaged. (I may or may not have had to pause when he asked Halsin to pin him against the wall. Spicy. )

I think Spawn Astarion is servicing more than participating because then encounter was initiated by Tav. So he sees the encounter as being more for them than for him. His thoughts may have been something like..

"Hmm, Tav wants to try this. Maybe, with them, it will be different for me too. We can be hedonists together! That sounds like fun! I'll need to make sure this is a good experience for them. And I need to keep them safe."

So even though he takes control of the situation by driving it.

"Alright sweethearts, you dare to dance with a professional."

He unintentionally defaulted into old habits due to the familiarity of the situation. He is not receiving here, he is seducing Tav and the twins. He did the same thing in the woods. He is in control, yes, but he is "working".

The take away, for me, is that the experience is neither "good" or "evil". We just learn that he tried something and he is not as ready for it as he had hoped. And that happens! And its OK.

Sometimes we jump into things we think we might be up for only to find out it is not our cup of tea. That's how we learn and that's how we discover who we are. The "good" or "evil" of it is found in what you do with that knowledge.

Do you continue the behavior with its consequences? Or do you accept it is not for the you that you are at this point in time and move forward?

"But that first rush of freedom can be intoxicating. I didn't always make the best decisions when I first tasted it."

The choice is yours.

Now, as living breathing NON NPC's we know, I would hope, that taking your real world partner, who was a known sex slave, to a brothel to engage in an orgy after six months of freedom, is an emotionally unintelligent and objectively stupid thing to do. Unless, it is their desire and for reasons that serve them in an enriching and positive way. There are always exceptions to things. But, for the most part, we all know its wise not to stick our hands in fires we know will burn us, right?

Play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go find my elf and accept my "punishment". He thinks he pulled a muscle from pouting so hard. And since that was somehow my fault, he demands I make it right by letting him lay his head in my lap and massage his cheeks till the "soreness" goes away. * eye roll * delightful repentances are the worst.