#but I love the trope your honor
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frownyalfred · 2 years ago
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random girl at a party: *describing how some guys harassed her on the street last night*
Jason, listening casually secretly seething: oh wow that’s wild
also Jason: you, uh, remember what they look like?
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anniilaugh · 3 months ago
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Too many beds? Build a love nest💕
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oobbbear · 5 months ago
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A comic about the fallens
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Please read deadendia I need people to suffer w me
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ambeauty · 6 months ago
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The most obvious and consistent issue with Sydney and Carmy is their inability to communicate honestly about what they are feeling when they feel it. Instead of telling Sydney that he needs her and that he doesn’t ever want to lose her or for her to leave him.. he drafts up a marriage contract partnership agreement. And to apologize for dumping the entire opening of their restaurant on her and to let her know that she’s all he ever thinks about… he gifts her a custom made designer chef coat🤣😩😭
This man is so fucking stupid! I CAN NOT!
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13ag21k · 1 year ago
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Ah yes the good old "I can't remove my boyfriend's mask" trope.
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myromanempiree · 5 months ago
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Enchanting; act two
(previously titled: Dreamers with no stars)
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thank you for 222+ notes on act one!!
Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader
Warnings: Rhysand sucks, angst, brief description of Eris' legs.
Summary: Will you accept this proposal?
word count: 1.2k
listening to: silver springs by fleetwood mac
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“People empty me,
 I have to get away to refill”
-Charles Bukowski 
Recap, or read act one here
The walk back to the dais was as silent as the rest of their interaction. She felt guilty for not being able to seduce the man, but regardless, was glad she was even able to waltz without falling and crashing into something or someone. 
She moved swiftly up to her sisters as shocking words ring in her ears. 
“I will offer you support, in exchange for her hand.”
...
A voice suddenly exclaimed, “Over my wrinkled, dead body!” 
She turned to find Mor, her face flushed and eyes ablaze with anger. Her heels clicked against the marble as she walked towards Eris, her lithe hands crumpled into fists. 
“Morrigan.” Rhysand said,his eyes speaking more words than what came from his mouth. Mor looked up at her High Lord, staring stubbornly at him, before gradually bowing her head and moving away.
Rhysand inhaled and exhaled, steadying himself, before turning to the Archeron sister, seaking her input. She stood there with her eyes averted to the ground, her hand finding the sleeve of her velvet dress. Her mouth opened ever so softly before she closed it, lifting her head to look from Eris to Rhysand, Mor to her sisters. Searching for someone– anyone– to speak on her behalf, to remove her from the room's gaze, to get her out. 
Thankfully, Eris clears his throat, saving her from saying something unacceptable or stupid. “If that is what the lady wants, anyhow,” he adds, with his ever charming smile adorning his features. “I will give you a week to decide.”
… 
The rest of the evening was infinitely more unbearable than the beginning. It was silent, awkwardly so. Not the comforting silence that wraps you in a warm blanket. No attempts at conversation being made, other than Mor encouraging her to stay far from Eris. 
Upon finally returning home, she excused herself quickly. No longer wanting to suffocate in the silence that drowns the family. 
She had quickly paced down the hall, one hand tracing along the lightly patterned cream walls, needing something familiar to keep her steady. Needing the feeling beneath her finger tips to distract from the hurricane of thoughts in her mind.
The other hand balls into a fist, tightening and loosening along with the drum of her heartbeat. She went up the stairs rather quickly, opening her door and going to her room, knocking over the pile of books she'd recently gotten from the library. 
She grabbed the nearest novel and threw it onto her bed, a sound of anguish escaping her throat as she raked a quivering hand through her hair, gripping the strands. She quickly moved to the bedside table, where a decanter was expected to be, yet found it empty. 
A breath slowly left her lips, her hand loosening its grip on the strands of hair, leaving a soothing ache behind. She sat on the bed, running a hand along the tasseled fabric, pulling at one. 
She braced herself for further awkwardness as she dragged herself down the stairs to get more water, slowly moving to peek into the kitchen as she heard shouting. 
“Are you psychotic? She wouldn't last a day in Autumn!” Cassian– presumably– yelled. 
Rhysand countered, “We need her to, Cassian. We can get her out after, but we need this advantage.” 
Amren stepped forward, arms crossed as he sighed. “She's not like any of her sisters, Rhysand. She wouldn't be able to do what we need her to, she's not that type of female..” 
“But with Beron potentially supporting Koschei, we need insider knowledge,” Azriel said slowly, before Mor said, “What the Hel, Azriel! You saw what they did to me!” 
“Trust me, I hate Eris as much as the next, but this could potentially save us,” he told Mor. 
“She couldn't even do it if we sent her.” Feyre said, standing next to Rhysand. 
Her eyes widened as she stood behind the alcove, Eris long forgotten as she heard the distasteful words spoken about her. She slowly stepped forward, then back, her feet dragging along like the lurch of her heart.
As much as she hated the idea of a political marriage, she hated the idea of being dead weight more than anything. Everyone had previously played a role in the safety of her sister's Court. It was high time for her turn. 
Her feet moved quickly past the alcove as she stepped into the kitchen, a set of eyes looking at her. 
“I'll do it.” 
Rhysand had quickly gotten in contact with Beron and informed him of her acceptance, before Mor could talk her out of it. Much to most of the Inner Circles displeasure.
She was told not to pack any articles of clothing, and that all would be provided, including the wedding gown. The mere thought had her face immediately scrunching in disgust. 
Feyre had tried to coax her to cancel the engagement as she was putting her things in boxes. Though that hadn't worked, seeing as she now found herself in a new room.
Crisp Autumn air coming in through the cracked window as she put her things away, some maids had offered to help, yet ahe refused. There was a certain way she had wanted it done, and ordering people around felt odd to her. 
So she found herself straightening a series of clay sea creatures Feyre had made her, smiling softly as she moved the sea lion into its place. Gently patting its head with her finger tip, before turning to hang up a map. 
“You are aware that this shall only be your room until the wedding, yes?” A smooth voice said, causing her to almost drop from the odd position of on the chair and on her writing desk that she was in– which, admittedly, wasn't a good idea regardless.
She stepped down to find Eris, an eyebrow raised as he leaned against the door frame. A confident and easy grin on his face, eyes darting to look up at her. “I… when is the wedding? I was never informed.” She said, tilting her head. 
“Three weeks, Beron and Rhysand both want this to be quick.” 
“So you can't back out”, are the words implied. She nods, fidgeting with her fingers, pulling on the appendages to hear a satisfying pop. She awkwardly looks at his feet, the calf-high riding boots that grip his muscled yet lean legs. 
She was never one for idle chatter, small talk was dumb to her. What was the point of it if it was something simple? However, she had no clue what to say to the statuesque man in front of her, so she asked; “Do you have a horse?” 
His eyes flickered with confusion, an eyebrow raised. “Pardon?” he questioned, tilting his head at her in a way that strangely reminded her of a dog. “Riding riding boots, I think those are what you're wearing. Do you have a horse?”
“Ah, yes. Maybe one-day I'll take you on a ride. After our marriage, of course.” Genesis nodded, thanking him and watching as he left. Burying her face into her hands after realizing the innuendo of his words, she now knew that ‘Thank you’ was not a proper way to address his words. 
This further reminds her of their future marital duties, and in three weeks time, she would be in bed with Eris Vanserra
Three weeks couldn't come slow enough.
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Taglist: @babypeapoddd @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @impossibelle @thestartitaness @thecraziestcrayon @minnieoo @nebarious @rcarbo1 @anyzandy @starsidesigh @wolvesnravens @96jnie 
Taglist is open! Dm or comment if you want to join
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supertrxshwrites · 1 year ago
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Thinking about how Jason only comes over as Red Hood so through your window/ up your fire escape so he doesn’t have to buzz in. When your ex finds out you’ve been seeing a guy named “Jason” he decides to come over one day screaming and banging on your door Jay takes it into his own hands and opens the door in full gear holding a gun pointed at said ex threatening to shoot him.
“Are you sure you want to do that” he says tilting his head pointing the gun at your ex
‘Y-you’re the r-‘
“ don’t come back here or I’m afraid I’ll have to shoot you” Jason says smugly
‘Youre bluffing’
“Okay” Jason shoots a near by pillar causing your ex to basically piss himself
“-fuck outta here”
Your ex just tripping over himself to leave
Jay acting like nothing happened and when you ask about hearing a gunshot he acts like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about with a smirk omg aaa
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floreatfoxes · 1 year ago
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my favourite trope will always be when someone believes they're hard to love because they have scars and are so human that it feels unreal and someone who loves them like it's breathing, natural, easily, devoted and just. it's lovely. they're just too consumed with love and don't want to stop being half of the other's soul.
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allstarsallign3d · 17 days ago
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Sebpainter/Waterpaint enthusiasts I have fed you
Didn't think it went with my youtubes vibe but I know someone here will appreciate it
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seung-mong · 1 year ago
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shoot to kill - bangchan
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includes: ex (?) bf! chan x fem reader, ANGST idk im in the mood to break hearts ig, fluff at the end, soft smut, mostly chan reassuring and praising reader
"alright fuck, then maybe we should just take a break."
the words leave chan before he can really think about it, hanging in the air like a knife that's been thrown and stops midair, your gaze ice cold and freezing it in it's track.
"really. thats your solution? a fucking break?" you scoff, your (chan's) shirt that usually hangs loosely suddenly suffocating you, wrapping you in a snake-like grip and making your head feel like you're going to explode.
"yea, i just dont think us being together is good for us anymore."
chan has a bad habit. he says shit he doesnt mean, blames the anger that builds in his chest and spits out words he knows will hurt. because thats what he wants to do. he knows its wrong, fucked even. the way he wants you to hurt the way he hurts.
"christopher."
its a plea. take it back, please. you stand there in front of him, defenseless. the way his full name falls off your tongue sounds wrong. it's devoid of all the emotions you'd usually call him with. where's the gentleness, the softness you usually regard him with?
"maybe we just.. need to stay away from each other right now." chan's voice is steady, betraying the way his insides seem to shake, he's not sure if he's shivering from the cold, or the way your eyes seem to look at him as if you're seeing him for the first time.
"you can't be serious." it hurts to speak, your words squeezing out of you as you struggle to breathe, tears freely flowing.
he should turn this around. surrender. no, he isn't serious. he's so stupid and he loves you and he's just so hurt by what you said a while ago and he's tired and- "i'll sleep at changbin's tonight."
your chest hurts, physically feels like its being ripped apart as you stare at your lover with empty eyes. "thats your solution? to run away? over such a stupid-"
"stupid?" chan laughs hollowly, running a hand through his hair, feeling all the anger rise in him again. "it isn't stupid, y/n. you're the one who keeps running away. you're the one who keeps pushing away this conversation every single time i bring it up." he's raising his voice now, can see how tense his body is from the reflection on the glass window.
"you're asking me to pick up my whole life and move to seoul with you. this isn't some silly request like asking me to pick where to eat for dinner, it's my whole fucking life, chris!" you raise yours in response, taking a step closer to him.
"that's what i did for you! i dont understand it, y/n. i moved to chicago. for you. picked up my whole fucking life and moved because i loved you. so why can't you fucking do that for me? this is my work, y/n." he takes a step, towering over you.
"no, don't twist it like that. we made plans, chan. we talked about it for months. it wasn't some spontaneous decision. we both wanted this-"
"well maybe i dont want this anymore."
oh.
...
"you don't mean that."
...
"channie? please. you don't mean that." your voice is breaks, shaky as you step away from him, clutching at your chest.
he can feel guilt eat at his stomach as he watches you, whole body shaking as sobs rack through your frame. he needs to apologize, he knows it. but you've hurt him too.
"i just... i need a break, y/n."
you sink into the couch behind you, shaking your head when chan hesitantly approaches you, kneeling on the floor in front of you. he places a hand on your knee, and his chest tightens when you flinch away from him.
"love-"
"don't." you spit the word out, refusing to even look at him.
"love, please-"
"a break's what you want? you fucking have it. tell changbin to expect you." you push his arm away when he makes a move to reach for you. you unfurl yourself from the couch, stepping aside from the man who holds your heart, ignoring his calls of your name as you walk into your shared bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.
sleep comes quickly when you cry yourself to sleep, curled into a ball in your bed, heart empty as the overwhelming scent of chan sticks to his pillows. you faintly hear the soft click of the front door, and then complete silence.
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it's hard to remember how you fell asleep, almost as if there was a smooth transition from sobbing heavily into your pillow and breathing into a deep sleep. your head is pounding when your eyes open, puffy and sore from your tears. your throat is dry, stomach aching, and heart heavy.
there's a chance chan will never sleep beside you again.
you push aside the bitter feeling, letting out a painful groan when you stretch your limbs, swinging your feet off your bed. the floor is cold, and you have to tiptoe to the bathroom to freshen up.
you look as horrible as you feel. you try not to spend too much time looking at yourself.
the thought of spending your whole day alone in your big apartment makes you uneasy, part of you wishing you could stay cooped up in your room forever. but you know deep down that's not what's truly bothering you, not when the uncertainty eats at you from the inside.
how is he?
is he thinking about you?
why hasn't he messaged you?
...... is it really the end?
you walk to the door, taking a deep breath as tears brim just below your waterline, promising to be productive today, and not to wallow in self pity all day. your scream leaves you before you can register what exactly is sitting by front of your door, large frame leaning against the door toppling over in his sleep.
"what the hell!" you scream, heart suddenly beating too fast at your liking as you finally take the scene in.
"baby?" chan's voice is croaky, as if his throat had been scratched raw. he's still wearing the clothes from last night, shoulder leaning against the doorframe before you swung the door open, causing him to lose balance.
"what the fuck are you doing here?" you sigh, guilt tugging at your heart when chan stands up, groaning and rubbing at his back.
"i- i didn't...."
you stare at him in silence, unable to control the way your brows furrow in anger. he stares back at you, lips suddenly going dry when he sees the way that you look at him, as if he was a bother.
"i thought you went to bin's." you push past him, heading straight to the kitchen as if you had no worry in the world, pretending to busy yourself with dishes despite there not being a single dish in the sink.
"i..... i couldn't leave you." his voice cracks as he takes another step toward you. you turn your back to him, denying him of your attention as you pretend to busy yourself with breakfast, pulling open drawers and taking out pots.
"wow. that's rich." your voice is laced with pure venom when you bite back, sinking deep into chan's heart as he shuffles awkwardly to stand by the kitchen counter.
"you locked the door."
you only hum in response.
"i.... i tried to go in, thought i'd apologize to you but.... it was locked."
"yea. you don't really expect anyone to go in your room when you're on a break."
the silence is heavy on your shoulders, but you know if you say any more the tears will start pouring. you're too mad at chan to break down in front of him, pride and ego wrestling as you maintain your unbothered facade, working your way around him as if his presence meant nothing to you.
"i turned down the job offer last night."
you drop the spatula you were holding in your hand, letting it clank against the metal pot.
"you what?" you finally turn to face him, disbelief etched onto your face.
you finally soften when you see chris mere feet away from you, eyes red and puffy a sign that he had been crying too. his hair is a mess, and his clothes from last night look rumpled, as if he had been restless all night.
"i- you have to know, my love. i will always choose you, nothing else. i was stupid and-"
"christopher, i never said no." you feel irritation rise in you again, but you take another step closer to your lover. "i never said i didnt want to go. i needed time to think, chris. time. to process. and now you've turned down your dream job and i-"
"i know, i know." chris reaches out to you, letting out what you think is a breath of relief when you dont push him away as he wraps his fingers around your wrists. "but i.... this job, it's going to be demanding and i'm constantly going to have to move and.... look, chicago is your home." he raises a hand to cup your face, wiping away the stray tear that had slipped down your cheek.
"and seoul is yours." you argue back.
"no, you are."
you let out a sob at that, allowing yourself to fully melt into chan's warm embrace. he immediately scoops you into his arms, pressing your face into his chest as he kisses the top of your head repeatedly, patting your hair down.
"it doesnt matter what im doing or where i am, as long as you're there." chan starts to choke up, pulling your face away to properly look you in the eyes. "i dont know what the future holds for me, love. all i know is that i want you by my side. in ten, twenty, thirty years." he plants soft kisses all over your face as you sniffle.
"but i- i feel so bad. i dont want to stop you from doing what you want." you groan, but chan simply giggles lovingly at you.
"i dont want you to think that, i dont even think that. its just a job, y/n. its not even a job i really want. it pays well yea, but it's not something id drop everything for. especially not you." he wipes away the tears that are still falling, cooing at you when you hiccup.
"i love you, chan. i'm so sorry." you sob, pushing your face into his shirt.
"don't apologize. i should be the one saying sorry. i was such a dick last night, i-" he sighs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "you know i dont mean what i say, right?"
god he hopes you say yes, he prays to any god, even those he doesnt believe in that you know he never means those things. he doesnt think theres anything worse than the possibility that you could actually think he doesnt want you or a life with you.
"i- i know. but... still hurts when you say it." you sniif, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand.
chan pulls away to look down at you. "i know, my love. im sorry. i'll work on that, i promise. can't stand it when you're sad. i hate knowing im the one who hurts you." he leans down to kiss you, the salty taste of your tears making his chest hurt.
"let me love on you, yea? let me take care of you baby, please."
you nod, jumping up when chan taps at your thighs. he catches you, wrapping his hands around your thighs as he carries you to your bedroom. "need to feel you," you sigh when chan gently places you on the bed.
he stands in between your spread legs, quickly throwing off his hoodie and letting it fall to the floor, leaving him half naked. he leans down to hover over you, lips instantly finding yours in a messy, heated kiss. his hands find their way under your shirt, tips of his fingers grazing your underboob.
"wanna fuck you in my shirt." chan hums against your cheek, squeezing your sides when you squirm against him.
"wanna feel your skin on mine though, please baby?" you beg, holding onto chan's shoulders as he kisses down your chest. he hums in agreement, rolling his shirt off so it sits on top of your breast.
"i'll give you whatever you want, baby. just ask me. promise i'll give it to you, i'll take care of you." he presses soft kisses across your stomach and chest all the while, only pulling away to lift the fabric off you. chan eyes you hungrily, only dressed in your underwear.
"you're the most beautiful girl ive ever seen, my love. so perfect for me." he sighs, fingers tangling in your hair as he kisses you deeply.
"want your pants off, need to feel all of you." you whine, fingers already flying to undo his pants.
"such a good girl, using your voice. you know id do anything you asked." he hums, kicking everything off until he lays bare against you, cock already hard as it rubs against your thigh.
"enough with the teasing, channie. need you in me."
"there's no rush, baby." chan hums, fingers dipping down to see how wet you are, surprised to find you already soaking.
"huh. guess she was crying for me too, hmm?"
you lightly slap at his shoulder, fighting the scolding smile that threatens to paint your face. "just put it in already, please."
"hmm. since you asked so nicely." he kisses your cheek, lips still against your skin as he pushes in you, holding your legs as par apart as he can. your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of him stretching you, fingers digging onto his broad back as he settles deep within you.
"feel good?" he asks, pillowy lips trailing across your face.
"so deep- love you, channie." you babble, and chan can't help but giggle. he presses his bare chest against yours, feeling satisfied when every inch of his skin is met with your own. his hands find yours, interlocking them before he dips down to kiss you on the lips.
"lets go slow, kay baby? need to feel all of you. every inch." he coos, hips slowly pulling back before he sinks back in, keeping the same torturously slow pace.
you whin when it starts to get too much and yet not enough at the same time, heels digging into his lower back to push him in quicker everytime he pulls out. "please, channie. need it faster."
"greedy," chan tuts, rubbing his nose against your jawline. "but, what my love wants, she gets."
his pace starts to pick up, lewd sounds of skin against skin filling up the room aside from the occassional moan you let out. chan grunts against your ear, letting out deep sighs and high pitched whimpers everytime you clench around him or reach up to kiss at his neck.
"m close," you whine, throwing yoru arm around your lover's neck to pull him closer. he easily complies, keeping the same rhythm as you press yourself against him.
"wanna feel you cum, baby. wanna feel that pretty pussy clench around me." he groans, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles on the bud.
you let out a silent scream when you cum, legs shaking against chan's waist as he fucks you through your high, letting out a breathy whimper when he feels how tight you've become.
"fuck! love you so much, channie." you sob.
that's what pushes him over the edge, shooting his load deep inside you as his hips stutter, groaning lowly with every thrust. he buries his face into the crook of your neck as you hold him, back sweaty from all the movement.
your breathing seems to sync as you both calm down, chan's hands rubbing up and down your sides as yours curl into his hair, holding him snuggly against you.
"i love you more than anything, y/n." chan suddenly breathes against your neck. he pulls away to look at you, and your breath catches in your throat when you see his eyes are brimming with tears.
"channie?" you pout, gently carressing his cheeks with your thumb. he leans into your touch, quickly kissing the palm of your hand before he nuzzles into it.
"don't wanna lose you. hurts so fucking much just thinking about it."
you're caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability, but you coo at him all the same. "you won't lose me, baby. we'll get through everything." you promise, heart squeezing when his tears start to fall.
"almost did. hate myself so much for hurting you." he sniffs, quickly wiping away his tears.
"baby, listen to me, okay?" you sigh. you try to sit up to look at him better, but chan whines, resting his head in between your chest and tightening his hold around your body. you giggle at him, hands quickly finding its way to his hair as you play with it. "you won't lose me. we just gotta... talk through everything, okay?"
"but i hurt you.... i dont think when i get mad. say things i dont mean."
"and you said you'd work on it. i trust you." he lifts his head up so he looks up at you, chin resting on your stomach.
"i love you. i hope you believe me when i say that. honestly, i dont think those three words can even begin to describe how i feel for you." he sighs, pinching at your side.
you giggle at him, thinking back to how he called you his home.
you push away the curls that cover his eyes, smiling down sweetly at him. "i know what you feel for me channie." you reassure him, pulling him up by the shoulders so he hovers directly above you.
"'s exactly what i feel for you, my beautiful boy." you coo, pulling him down for a kiss.
taglist: @abcdefgiwsmcty@n034sy@148-seungmin
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jhuzen · 2 years ago
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could u write kaveh diluc or kaeya with an obsessive m reader? like yandere type (or just obsessive whatever u want) I love the way u write them ur my fav blog
following elysium [m.reader]
maaaaan i haven’t written anything yandere in a good while now. but i can’t say i don’t miss it. this takes me back to my obsession with yandere character arc (*coughs in yan asogi that i still obsess over in my drafts*) so this request will let me know if i’ve lost my touch. also, why pick between three when you can have all lolololll
𖦹 dark themes, yandere male reader (ranging from manipulative, to overprotective, to soft), manipulation everywhere (like a lot, i swear i’m not good at it irl or am i jkjk), obsessive themes, some mentions and allusions of death, some isolation, scare tactics, love bombing
𐂂 obsession is a lethal poison, and yet you’ve survived a gallon of doses.
Kaveh
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Your sweet naïve little Kaveh was quite the adorable one, always so considerate, so willing to please and so eager to do what he can in order to satisfy you, a mere admiring client of his. A man that he knew that personally sought him out to the ends of Sumeru just to meet him and commission him. Just because for some reason, you had heard of him from the outskirts of this vast nation.
Oh truly what an honor it is.
If only he knew it took one smile from him and a small greeting from exactly just a year ago when he officially met you, that sent you spiraling into a mad obsession that longed to pursue him; if only he insisted to look inside the office you’ve kept him off of, he would have seen the altar that could rival any other archons out there; if only he had a lick of awareness in him, he would’ve seen that your devilishly charming smiles were indeed the work of something far more sinister.
Alas, he was your sweet little architect, unaware of your leering stares, gazes so predatory it could leave any prey scampering off, ready to pounce at him and just break him.
But you are a man of class, you knew your way around people’s hearts, and Kaveh’s weakness was the positive feedback he gets from his clients. He’s helping out of the goodness of his heart, after all, mora is not so much of an issue (to the point of him even incurring a debt), and he was even just as generous with you, refusing the pounds of mora that you were willing to lay at his feet (though you send him away with heaps still).
And as your gaze flitted from the blueprints of your master’s bedroom renovation to the man currently in charge of it, a small smile wormed its way to your face. Truly your esteemed genius architect is a lovely one, how lucky were you that you met him on that particular day.
“Hm… I don’t think with the way we’ve recently renovated your hallways, your bedroom pans out at all,” his bottom lip stuck out into an adorable pout, and it took every cell in your body to control the maddening urge to kiss them, to bite them until you even get a taste of him.
“Is that so?” You casually leaned over, drawing yourself nearer than normal. And heaven swallowed you whole when you got a whiff of that familiar honey scented shampoo that Kaveh often used (you’ve made a note of buying more in stock once you’ve enacted the final steps in your little plan).
However, even that lovely scent wasn’t enough to keep your attention away from the way Kaveh stiffened, from the way his grip around the parchment of your blueprint significantly tightened to the point of ripping it apart, from the way his breath hitched.
“I— A-Ah! Um! Yes—!”
From the way his voice cracked — those red eyes peered up at you — to the way those gazes of his became increasingly fonder and more frenzied, much like yours, but less subtle. Kaveh was always bad at hiding how he truly feels, and it made it easier for you to trap him in your little cage, to snip away his wings until he’s fully tied down to you.
You tilted your head, cocking an eyebrow as you put him in his place, rendering him almost speechless when he briskly turned back to the blueprint, wide-eyed and flustered. How adorable.
“Well, I trust that you know how our transactions are, my dear,” your tone was suave and smooth, practiced to perfection, and the same way with your movements that were calculated for precision, ensnaring your poor unsuspecting Kaveh. You took a lock of his hair in your hand, twirling it around as you attempted to find his averted gaze. “Go all out. Mora is not an issue.”
Kaveh’s head stuttered as he nodded, his trembling hands barely able to release the poor blueprint from his vice grip. He somehow didn’t know why, but there were recent changes about you in the few and far between times that he sees you for your personal consultation. Kaveh thought it sweet really, that you would go out of your way to contact a grand and comfortable enough transportation to take him to your home instead of making him walk a hundred miles just to do so (despite his initial insistence to do it instead).
You were the first client that has been so generous with praises and mora when it comes to your payment, and while the architect can afford to be modest about accepting your financial payment, even he couldn’t hide the metaphorical wagging of his tail should you even grace him one compliment for his efforts. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows he’s good, how else could he have graduated with honors if not?
Nevertheless, your approval was something Kaveh continuously sought, until every letter of commission you sent him suddenly had him mistaking it for a letter of something more… intimate, something that held a rather romantic connotation.
He took your kindness for something more, unknowing of your ulterior motives, blissfully unaware about the obsession that gets you high, and absolutely clueless about the fact that ten of your men — the ones that greeted him so jovially as they gave him a ride to your grand home — had their eyes on his every move on the days he would be off back home, acting as your eyes, all perfectly ready to execute someone should they harm a hair on his head.
Thoughts of you became even more intrusive the more he met with you, Kaveh found you addicting, and he even felt ashamed of the fact that he did so. You’re his client! He shouldn’t be so emotionally involved in the first place. He was there to do his job that you commissioned him for.
But a moment of clarity soon encompassed him when he realized that he has previous engagements to this. That he shouldn’t be staying the night at your home once more to work on renovating your bedroom.
“Ah… I just remembered…” Kaveh’s frown was unmistakable, and suddenly the feeling of eagerness of him meeting up with his friends at the usual tavern was replaced with blatant hesitance at the thought of leaving you. But he quickly shook it off, turning back to you, “Hey… I hope you don’t mind if I can postpone our work for now…”
Where did you get that wine?
Your gaze lifted from the swirling burgundy in your glass, “Oh? How come? Need some inspiration?”
“I just remembered I promised to meet with my friends tonight. It’s only once a month.”
Your lips almost turned down into a disdainful scowl but opted for a small, reserved disappointed frown, “Ah. I see. How disappointing that is,” you murmured, but it was enough for Kaveh to hear. Deceitfully disheartened, like practiced and the way Kaveh’s eyebrows furrowed in concern was enough of a reaction.
“It wouldn’t be for too long though! I’ll be back tomorrow!” The hesitation crept up on him and it showed in the tone of his voice. Desperation soon followed when his body turned to face yours, a sign of vulnerability and submission in this situation. “It’s not… it’s not as if I’m leaving or anything.”
You heaved a sigh, “But that would be too much on you, making you come all the way back and even after spending some time with your friends too.” You can only thank the lucky stars that you were a son of a theatre actor from Fontaine, it sure came in handy.
“No, I can definitely make it! You’re my best client, I can’t afford to—”
Kaveh’s frantic saving was quickly interrupted when you decided to go in for the kill, “Like I said, I don’t wish to run you ragged… and my family will come and visit soon.” You snapped your fingers, looking at Kaveh with feigned curiosity, “Ah, yes. Might you know any other capable architects? Surely I can’t expect the same work like yours, but someone who would not disappoint would be enough.”
His red eyes immediately went wide, completely baffled at your suggestion. You were willing to replace him? Just like that?
“I…” Kaveh looked down, suddenly meek. “I don’t know anyone who can do that much,” he muttered despite knowing otherwise. He was kind to his fellow architects, but surely he can afford to be selfish about you just this once?
He failed to see the way your eyes shone with satisfaction, contrasting you disheartened tone, “Hm… pity that is…”
Well. Missing one night wouldn’t hurt, right?
Kaveh looked back up at you, “I… I suppose I can afford to just show up next time. We do these hangouts all the time anyway,” his words completely contrasted his claim of scarce meets earlier, but it was more than enough for you to know how quickly he gave in. “Ah, whatever. I’m sure those guys can handle themselves.”
“Are you certain?” You asked, tilting his head up with a hand on his chin, almost getting lost into those ruby reds of his. “I’d hate for you to miss such an important engagement.”
And before he knew it, he willingly embraced the shadows, engulfing every part of him, leaving none untouched. It swallowed him whole, like a limitless void, with no one left to even save him, forgetting anyone else but you and only you.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind staying with you.”
You tapped the rim of your glass on his lip, pouring that familiar wine in the small gap of his lips that you’ve graced him on the many nights he would stay to work on your home renovations. You watched with pure delight as Kaveh’s eyes grew hazy and unfocused — left with nothing but with the manipulated admiration for you.
“Good. Let’s enjoy the night, shall we?”
𐂂
Kaeya
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The infamous Cavalry Captain has no one to blame but himself, really. Even as your superior, he knew no bounds when it comes to reserving himself. He always flaunted himself at you, like a fashionable bird that that preened its wings on the daily just to show off. He was flashy, mouthy, and unbearably attractive.
Being placed under him was hell for all the different reasons. You were constantly in his presence — and you had to shoulder the patience of the kindest archon in existence to resist anything remotely impulsive. You had to be near him in proximity, always around him, accompanying him from the most mundane errands to the most hectic missions.
And while Captain Kaeya was he shining beacon between you and him, you were the dark shadow that walked behind him. It wasn’t your fault, he asked you so himself.
“This guy’s going to shadow me, hope you have no objections to that, Acting Grandmaster,” was what you heard on that one fateful day, before finding your pristine uniform getting remotely crinkled as he dragged you away without breaking a sweat.
Since that day, no person in Monstadt can claim that they’ve seen Kaeya without you, or you without him. It was almost like fate, except it was a fate that forged a bond from the depths of abyss — a bond that embodied nothing but a push and pull relationship, the distance and proximity, the obsession and submission.
You had to watch him put himself out there, when you can just as easily drag that information from someone if you asked with a blade on their throat; that usually gets people talking. But he dismissed you easily, and let you stew in the cesspool of madness that his actions slowly created.
And you were none the wiser, you cleaned up the messes he made, you made sure to silence the people once they came into their senses that they’ve been bested by yet again the sniveling calvary captain of the order.
All of his commands, you obeyed without complaint.
And oddly enough, it brought you a sense of comfort. That he trusts you this much, that he’s willing to let you go rampant in exchange for his safety — one that you never failed on doing. All of it, to keep him safe.
Until recently, you found it inconvenient to let him off without a leash. Seeing him come home from an excursion with scratches that decorated his poor body — adding further into those battle scars that you’ve once had the displeasure of seeing when he asked you to aid him into wrapping himself with a handful of bandages — and it wasn’t the greatest sight. You fussed over him like a mother hen, never once letting him out of your sight.
You were rewarded with a grateful side-hug from the captain, and it was enough to fuel your mission in protecting him.
“Ah! Captain! Should I accompany you today?” You asked as you approached him with a blinding grin — in fact so blinding, he had to squint his one good eye. For a shadow, you sure are bright. Perhaps Kaeya was mistaken when he said you were going to be his behind-the-scenes guy.
Kaeya found you adorable, in all honesty. You had an exuberant energy within you that went unparalleled, and on days that he personally needed someone to pick him up when everything weighed down on him, it seemed like you almost had a sixth sense for it and was almost always by his side. Not that he minded — he was grateful above all else. And on days when the drunkard bard or Rosaria weren’t around to keep him company, he trusts that you have some reserved liquor in your home so he can drink away his problems and still be fine in his sleep.
If only he knew how hard you stared at him, obsessively looking him over while you slowly drowned in your fantasies — one of which him finally being chained to you, devoted and stuck waiting at home while you defend his honor without him having to harm himself in the process.
“There you are, missed me already?” He asked with a cheeky grin.
You did. You couldn’t sleep a wink, knowing that you weren’t around to protect him.
You scratched your head and laughed, “Aw, don’t be so mean captain. I only care about your wellbeing!”
“Hm~? How sweet… sure wouldn’t hurt to have you around every now and then.”
You have been. You prowled around his remote home, kicking stones and staring longingly in the window, ready to pounce at anyone who seemed vaguely threatening.
Kaeya thought how endearing you might be if you were to be his, but with the mission he carries on his back, he wonders if it’s even worth it having you, only to betray you in the end. He wonders if you can betray your own homeland for him.
You would, without question. You will lay a hundred corpses of the Order’s knights at his feet should he ask.
“Don’t tease me so much, captain,” your pout was enough to lift his spirits from that asinine thought. “Now, where are you going? I’ll go prepare my things.”
“Just heading up to Dragonspine to meet with the chief investigator. It shouldn’t be too hard, so you can just stay here and enjoy a bit of downtime, yeah? Go bother my brother if you want, you have my full permission.”
You frowned and Kaeya suddenly felt a chill crawl through his spine. You never did expressed such a disappointment even on the most difficult situations, and it suddenly feels like he made a mistake in refusing you. Perhaps it was because you towered over him so easily, perhaps it was because you could catch him without even trying that Kaeya suddenly felt so small in comparison to you.
The tension lasted for a good minute, silence engulfed the both of you and Kaeya has never felt so uncomfortable in his own skin. Should he have taken his answer back? But really, there was no need for you to escort him in the first place.
You then broke the silence with a quiet, dispirited sigh.
“Okay, but please keep safe, alright?” You patted the captain’s cheeks, sending him a small smile before heading off.
Kaeya didn’t like the way the guilt gnawed in his chest.
And while you also didn’t like an act of betrayal, you found it necessary at times — times when lessons had to be taught. The Acting Grandmaster said so herself, that experience is the best teacher.
Kaeya trudged through the coldness of Dragonspine, completely hating the fact that he had no company now. Maybe he should’ve just agreed to your proposition, and you looked so sad too! Like a kicked puppy that was told to sleep outside in the cold night. He couldn’t bear the thought of you looking so sad — you were his partner, of course you should’ve come!
Alas, the feelings of being attached to someone burdened him so, and while he sought your brightest and warmest of smiles, he couldn’t muster the courage to see it fall on the day that he fulfills what he knows would be his inevitable fate in the long run.
However all his rumination came into a halt the moment he heard a roar that thundered quite literally just beside him.
Kaeya had little time to think the moment the beast emerged from the towering trees of the mountains, his head blanking as he watched it lunge towards him with great speed. His hand that went up to the hilt of his sword suddenly froze the very moment he realized he was a little too late.
Closing his eye shut, he braced for the impact until suddenly, the beast roared and he could hear the familiar sickening sound of a blade piercing through the flesh.
Mere seconds were all it took for him to regain his breathing, his ears ringing as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. He now wonders if he really should’ve taken you up on your offer on escorting him in the first place, sure would’ve eased the guilt he felt inside and maybe he wouldn’t have to space out in the middle of his trail.
“Captain! Are you okay?!”
His eye flew open, seeing your angelic face that held nothing but pure concern for him. He glanced back at the slain beast and back to you, pupils dilated — you were here. Here. And you protected him.
He stayed still, watching in bated breath as you dropped your bloodied greatsword that stained the thick coat of snow. You smiled a little, brushing away a few strands of hair from his face, “There’s my captain. Are you alright? Did it hurt you?”
“Y…You’re here…?”
You blinked before laughing, bashful and what Kaeya can consider as remotely adorable in any other day, “Ah… yeah. I know you said I can’t come… but I can’t help it! What if you were in trouble and I wasn’t there to protect you? So I came and good thing I did!”
Kaeya’s lips trembled, before lunging in to hug you tight, almost sending you tumbling into the snow. You quickly returned the gesture, wrapping your arms around him tight. You patted his back, rubbing circles to soothe your poor little captain.
“There, there. From now on, let’s stick together, okay?”
The captain nodded into your shoulder, looking up to look at the unmoving beast that laid in the snow.
He does wonder though… since when were wild beasts in this mountain leashed?
𐂂
Diluc
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To the citizens of Mondstadt, their uncrowned king remains as cold and as untouchable as he can be. He rarely interacted with anyone, and was almost always either cooped up in his manor, or out in other nations to further propagate his empirical business in the wine industry. He was always on the move, and people admired him for that.
And you were willing to bet your entire life that their admiration would grow tenfold when they realized that Diluc was the unsung Darknight Hero that terrorized every monsters that hoped to wreak havoc in the lives of the citizens.
Alas, the situation remains as it were, with him completely aloof to the people, leaving either a terrifying impression, or one that could leave someone seething at his unwelcoming tendencies.
But you would be remiss to blindly agree to that. In fact, you vehemently denied those claims as you remained by his side, like a loyal watchdog for him to command as he so pleases.
He was your savior first before your now superior. Diluc was your beacon of hope on the very day he rescued you from the cold rain, ostracized from your nation that you once loved and now left with a gaping void on your chest. You could still remember the feeling of that cold rain while you trudged within the Dawn Winery’s vicinity, when suddenly the rain stopped pelting harshly on you as a pair of shoes entered your field of vision.
You could still remember his words echo within your ears.
“You’re going to get sick. Come inside and let the rain pass at least.”
The rest was history after that, and now you sat as the elusive and capable butler of the famed prolific young man of the Ragnvindr clan. Though in fairness, you weren’t particularly elusive, and Adelinde can attest to that.
She has never seen someone handle their Master Diluc so delicately. She could sing her praises to you endlessly, with your attentive nature, and you willingness to serve Diluc without even an ounce of hesitation. You’ve certainly earned your keep in their eyes, and even the pyro vision wielder can see your dedication towards him.
There was always something with the way you carried yourself the moment you started working under the Ragnvindr house, you first started off as a mere novice in caring for the house, until you rapidly climbed up the ranks as Diluc’s personal attendant, aiding him in his home as well as his monthly international trips to ensure his safety.
Really, it wasn’t much to be praised for. You were only doing your job, and it’s a job that you found yourself intensely passionate for. To be with Diluc was an honor, to serve the man that saved you from your untimely demise, returning his actions with so much more than what was on offer.
Your service was something that toed between your gratefulness and a borderline obsession.
You gave what you can and Diluc was nothing but completely enamored with you, from your lofty smiles that felt like heaven, to your assisting hands that traced against his shoulders on mornings where you helped him get dressed for the day. All of it was slowly drawing him in. You were perfect, too perfect in fact, and it haunted poor Diluc that knew nothing but pain and betrayal.
“Master Diluc, I believe there is merit to getting some sleep after working so hard,” your smile was light and airy, and it was already a breath of fresh air from the contrasting suffocating environment that was filled to the brim with mindless drunks.
Diluc made a quiet noise of agreement (his mouth barely had the strength to move after talking to so many patrons of his), yet his feet begged to differ as it led him up to his office without skipping a beat.
You folded his coat in your arms and trailed after him, “So then why am I seeing you opening the door to what I believe is not your bedroom door?” You inquire with a croon, lovingly watching the way his hand hesitated to find the doorknob. It was a sign that he heeded your little advice and your little heart that was filled to the brim with love for your master couldn’t help but swell with pride and increase in rate, almost spilling over.
“I have… some reports to attend to. If I can finish it tonight, it would be less burden on me tomorrow,” Diluc reasoned, but it was clear that he was slowly caving into your whims, just the way you like it.
He was inexplicably weak towards you for some reason — something not a lot of people could achieve despite working for him or with him for a good while.
“Would it be wise to tend to them while completely exhausted?”
Once again, you’ve put him in a difficult place. You’re a cunning man, unfortunately for him, able to wriggle in some moments of logic into his brain that prioritized his duties over his own wellbeing. And for some reason, concerning as it is, his brain feels intoxicated as it sways to your will, completely subservient and willing to abide despite the fact that you were his servant and he was the commanding authority in your relationship.
Diluc feels it sometimes — the unsettling feeling of being squeezed tight, like a python coiling around his body as it suffocated him with love and care. His movements are restricted and he was unable to break free from that tightening grasp.
It was almost hard to breathe, but at the same time there was sick sense of comfort that was lodged into the back of his mind. He liked it. It was the affection that he was deprived of, leaving him writhing in the loneliness that he was forced to soldier through. And when you came to him on that one night, you gave him what he needed but not asked for.
You made him feel like he’s worth something, and it made him want to vie for a life worth something as well. It was a feeling that he could get high off of, and you were willing donor to whatever it was that he lacked.
And before he knew it, he sat at his tub comfortably, completely bare and vulnerable while you continued to wash his hair with such gentle hands. Never has he known a touch so kind like yours and he was ready to get lost within it.
“Feeling better?” Your voice coos at his ear, sickeningly sweet and yet he submits himself into it with reckless abandon. Your hands moved from his hair, leaving the most addicting touches as you traced your fingertips from the nape of his neck right to his shoulders that were filled with tension.
“Much,” Diluc muttered, head turning up as his half-lidded eyes met yours, still filled with that irresistible fondness that he grew to be addictive of. “Thank you, [Name].”
You smiled, succinct yet saccharine while your hands worked away the kinks and knots away from your master’s incredibly tensed muscles.
For him, you would give your all, even if it meant to face death. You would throw away anything else because a world without your endearing master is a world not worth living for. You will serve him until the world falls to your feet, and if given the chance, you will do what you can to protect him even beyond your useless life that long passed.
He was your savior and now you were a devout believer — one that worships his master with little to no hesitation. You can beat any other nun or the beloved deacon of that measly church with how much love and devotion you were willing to show him. Hell, even if you can’t, if it’s what Diluc wants, you would do well with dying as you try and make the impossible completely possible just for him.
Your love through subservience was quick to snuff out the wings your master once embodied to soar freely. He slowly caved into you, in need and constantly hungry for more, unaware of his growing dependence on your presence.
“It’s no problem, my lord. I will serve and tail you until the ends of this world. And even in my death, I am yours to command and to have.”
Diluc mirrored your smile, albeit much more tired than your sweet one.
He was the willing prey and you were the loving predator.
The unmistakably perfect match.
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kana7o · 1 year ago
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Drew some stuff for cvvani's Demon x Hero fic!! I really love it, please have a read!!! TToTT <3<3<3
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killerfrostisme · 3 months ago
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THIS IS SO LOCKLYLE CODED!!!!!!!
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cookiesnpaste · 4 months ago
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tragic yuri,, but yeehaw,,,,,,,,
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theyonlyhadeachother · 10 months ago
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one of the best parts about midam imo, other than yk everything about them, is the potential for outsider povs.
like not only do we have two beings in a single body – that on its own is amazing with the potential of people seeing them and going "what" – but one of them is The archangel Michael, who predates both time and space
like. just imagine other people seeing them. at first adam's normal, just another college kid, if he has a few quirks. but once you get to know him, things start to get a little odd.
he starts talking to someone who isnt there under his breath when he thinks you arent there. sometimes he'll look at something that isn't there or something you cant see.
this is starting to sound like a horror movie. oops. but like think of the potential here, both for horror and comedy
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supernovaa-remnant · 8 months ago
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I am absolutely in love with your accidental courtship au, its a delight.
I dont know what species you're planning for Dream, but I'm imagining he tells Techno after all the cards are on the table, hes had time to process and they're both aware and on board with a courtship so Techno can finally follow the correct customs.
That, or, au of an au, Techno accidentally follows Dreams culture and Dream is absolutely gobsmacked. Like its an obscure culture and something Very strange to do unless you know it, even for Techno.
Dream doesnt, like, really realize Techno is courting him, hes way too busy mad pin board solving How The Hell Techno a) found out what Dream is and b) found the customs, like hes an ender dragon or something who no outsider know jack shit about
Eventually it'll kick him in the head that oh god, Techno is flirting with me. Eventually.
okay, so, here's the thing: dream doesn't know what he is. like, he doesn't remember his very early childhood. he figures he had someone taking care of him at some point, but he doesn't remember anything about them. he was on his own a lot when he was younger, until he befriended sapnap who eventually dragged him to bad, and he'd been with them ever since.
so, he doesn't know what he is. bad's from a very old, practically dead culture; demons just... aren't around anymore. just like how phil comes from the elytrians which also aren't around anymore. sapnap is blazeborn, so bad tried very hard to be mindful and respectful of that and teach him blazeborn culture. but none of them know what dream is. so, dream isn't sure what culture he's from. he (and sapnap, honestly) identifies a lot with demon culture, and he lives according to a lot of their customs because bad had shared his culture with him. but he still doesn't feel that it is wholly his culture, y'know?
he has some customs that he still follows from when he was really little. he doesn't remember who taught it to him, but it feels right.
to be clear: techno did try demon courtship rituals. and blazeborn courting rituals. and human courting rituals. all of which dream does know about, but it just never clicked in his mind that that's what techno was doing. dream just figured techno was misinterpreting the cultures in his attempts to find new ways to expand their rivalry to include cultures dream connects to. a touching gesture, even if it's a bit off (you'll find this is a common thought they have about each other).
as for what dream is... I think he's probably from the end in some way. he's very very humanoid, but his night vision is beyond that of a normal human's, and he's faster and more agile than a normal human, too. he doesn't mention it often, but he also has more of an affinity to magic and enchanting.
bad doesn't know what he is, but bad's also from the nether, and, whatever dream is, it's something that even bad wouldn't know.
but phil. well, phil's elytrian. he's from the end. of course he'd know what dream is. he figures it out around doomsday. he then, of course, tells techno, and techno tries those courtship rituals. how unfortunate that courtship rituals are not one of the things dream remembers about that culture lmao.
(there are some things, though, that kinda trigger memories within dream, and, like you said, he's absolutely baffled at how techno knows these things. except dream doesn't know that these things are a courting ritual, he just recognizes pieces of it. and then he's too preoccupied figuring out how techno knows).
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