#but I need to point this out even though it's obvious

[bemorch]

Tags by @vaguely-concerned

I’ve had a lot of people point out the easter eggs in these (the andraste’s grace, the portraits, the books, etc.), but this is the first time someone actually gets the more abstract messaging 100% right wow

I’ll take this chance to elaborate on the ideas in this a bit because I think the differences between their politics, the ways they view the chant, and their relationships, shape the way (I think) they would choose to depict themselves in a portrait.

Long text under the cut:

Starting with Cassandra, she's a character driven by duty and purpose, which extends to her interpretation of the chant. She views the Chantry as a means to a righteous, just and devoted society (although her interpretation of “justice” might not align with everyone else's). She is more than willing to go against the tide if she sees a violation of what she deems a fair system, even if that turns the world against her. 

These traits are self-evident in the letter Leliana “Nightingale” sends her after the death of Divine Beatrix III:

«“I know that the Most Holy has spoken to you, Cassandra” the letter stated. “She wishes you to be her Right Hand, to serve her as you did the Divine before. What she considers is necessary, yet dangerous. (...) My own agents have watched as you perform your duties. You pursue your own missions for the Seekers with less vigor than you once did. You question more often, show compassion that would get you in trouble if they knew of it, and you rage at injustice that has become more and more obvious to those of us with eyes. I welcome the opportunity for us to work together in what shall surely be our most trying hours”». (The World of Thedas II, p. 223)

This, though, also reveals the differences between the way she and Leliana served as Divine Justinia V’s right and left hand respectively, and most importantly, their relationships to her (which I’ll get to later).

Cassandra is, above all, a soldier. This does not diminish her faithfulness, on the contrary, her belief in the chant is what fuels her morals and principles, and what she sees as her duty as a warrior. This is what made her rise to the position of Right Hand of Divine Beatrix III, it wasn’t only her feats -overthrowing the assassination plot against the Divine, slaying the magically controlled dragons (a feat that she herself insists doesn’t belong exclusively to her) - but her resolve to do so. As she herself puts it in a report to her Seeker superiors: “Yes, I was indeed there when the Grand Cathedral was attacked, and I fought with every ounce of my strength to protect the Divine. (...) I was willing to die to protect Most Holy, it’s true, and I almost did die. But fighting against such evil is my sworn duty.” (World of Thedas II, p. 221) .

This, I believe, would all be reflected in her Official Divine portrait: 

Full armor, of course, not only as an expression of her history as a soldier (which, although lessened, doesn’t end with her appointment as Divine), but also as an extension of her metaphorical armor. Cassandra, although incredibly genuine and honest, is a woman who’s surrounded herself with emotional walls.

A powerful pose, as a way to show authority, strength and discipline, but within eye-level as to not show an arrogant sense of superiority.

Little to no personal decoration. She’s a blunt, no-nonsense person, she doesn’t see the point in displaying her own life in an official portrait where everyone can see it. With the exception of a small portrait of divine Justinia, of course, and “The tale of the Champion” (whether the last one was left "in-frame" on purpose or not, I’ll leave to your interpretation).

Strong Chantry imagery: the drapes, the banner… She does not play the Game or care much for it, so subtle messaging through objects, composition, colors, etc. would not be much of a concern for her (she would probably see the need of a portrait at all as vain). When asked how she’d like to be painted, she’d probably give an exasperated “I do not care, just get this over with” kind of response. By relegating the task to her advisors though, subtle class imagery would sneak in the painting: the orlesian, purple cloth, representing a superior wealth/social status. This would also symbolize how one of her best attributes can be one of her worst: her straightforwardness, and lack of tolerance for nonsense (in this case, noble’s machinations), would make her vulnerable to camouflaged manipulation/influence.

Her portrait heavily contrasts with both Leliana’s and Vivienne’s, because, although each does so from the other side of the political spectrum, both of them skillfully play the Game, even through their portraits. Cassandra’s, on the other hand, has an either boring or refreshing (depending on who you ask) sincerity in her plain depiction of herself.

Continuing with the Left Hand of the Divine; Leliana, despite fulfilling her role next to Cassandra for many years, plays her cards in a completely different way. Shamelessly quoting the Thedas Revolutions wiki: “If the Right Hand of the Divine is her blade in hand, then the Divine’s Left Hand is the one concealed in her sleeve”.

(I’ll be talking exclusively about a softened Leliana here, so as not to overextend this analysis).

Where Cassandra is blunt and inflexible, Leliana is sly and open-minded. While Cassandra does not give nobles the time of day, Leliana, as a former bard, revels in playing their game. Cassandra will rush to the direct and short path, even if more dangerous, while Leliana will take her time finding a roundabout (literally).

Leliana’s devotion to the Maker is, in my opinion, no greater or lesser than Cassandra’s, but it is more unconventional. Even ignoring her “vision” during the events of Origins, her interpretation of the chant of light is not one shared by many. As she explains in Inquisition, when asked about her plans if she were to become Divine: «The Chantry dictated where it should have inspired. It spoke of judgement instead of acceptance. It should encourage the good in everyone, rather than rebuke us for our sins. No one should be turned away from our doors. No one is without worth. Whoever you are, whatever your mistakes, you are loved. Unconditionally. “In your heart shall burn an unquenchable flame.”». She is, to some degree, something of a heretic.  And yet, her devotion to her faith is undeniable.

Her portrait shows these same characteristics:

An approachable look: as @/vaguely-concerned eloquently put it, “I am here with you in this private space, you can tell me everything, I will understand”. From her pose, sitting down in a comfortable chair, looking at the viewer in the eyes, to the space she’s in: a simple, homey room.

Personal decorations: the lute, the portraits, the flower, and the amulet. All to portray vulnerability and connect to the viewer. Even the nug, Schmooples II, is an attempt to seem friendly. I mean, a Divine with such a “dirty” and common animal as a pet? Wow, she's just like me! This, although no less genuine, is a very calculated way to depict herself. She won’t reveal any real secrets or weaknesses of course. If Cassandra’s straightforwardness is both a strength and a fault, Leliana’s scheming can be as well. A person like her, so in love with playing the Game, can get lost in her own machinations even in front of a clear-cut solution.

Even though her priority here is to connect with the viewer -the world-, she is still very much a servant of the Maker -of the Chantry- shown through the Grand Cathedral visible through the window. She serves the people through the Chantry, and the Chantry through the people.

This is a new era for the Chantry, one where everyone’s welcome (“elves, dwarves, even qunari.”), one rid of archaic conventions of what means to be faithful. What better way to show this than with a portrait of the Divine’s elven lover displayed on her official portrait? (I am aware this only applies to a very specific worldstate).

A robe made of beautiful materials and textiles. Elegant and ornamental, but not a vulgar display of wealth. A nod to her love for shoes, fashion, and orlesian customs.

And, of course, a portrait of Divine Justina as well. The position, size and context is different from Cassandra’s as a way to highlight the aforementioned differences between their relationships with Dorothea. In Leliana’s case, the portrait is big, hanged in a high, visible place, just above her, as if watching over her. She was, as she herself says, the one who “saved her”, and who motivated her to dedicate herself to the Chantry. Cassandra, on the other hand, even though devoted to Justinia, had a far more superficial connection with her, more by duty than by affection. She even admits it in a series of banters with Sera:

“Sera: You better yet, Cassandra? Can you tell me what she was like? Cassandra: Who? Oh, the Divine? Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not used to such... unorthodox displays of faith. Most Holy was a visionary. I served as her Right Hand, and would have done so as long as she needed me. Sera: But you didn't know her. Cassandra: I just said, I served as her Right Hand. Sera: Fine, whatever. I'll ask Leliana. You can tell there was something with those two. Family pain, there.” “Cassandra: I... You were right, Sera. I find I did not know Justinia at all. Sera: Shame, right? She was pretty.”

This is why, even though she was an equally influential figure in Cassandra’s life, her portrait is smaller, less visible, looking in the opposite direction as her. They worked together, she would’ve sacrificed herself to save her life, but they didn’t really know each other.

And lastly we have Vivienne, equally subversive as she is conservative. The first mage Divine, but also the most traditional out of the three candidates. A deeply complicated woman.

I find that Vivienne is often misrepresented in fandom spaces, oversimplified as just "the conservative mage". She's not afforded the same complexities as her mage peers, for whatever reason (I think we both know the reason). The thing is, Vivienne loves control, loves power plays, but her politics on mage freedom don't come from that, but from a genuine wish to protect her fellow mages. She is, in my opinion, one of the characters most empathetic to mages, even if her ideas of what's best for them are widely different from most. Even if subtle, her reaction to finding the rebel mages left the tranquil behind (and were subsequently used by the venatori to make the ocularum) is one of absolute outrage. Her worry for mages doesn’t end with the “useful” ones, so it’s not about controlling a potential asset, it extends to those most overlooked by the Templars, the Chantry and the rebels.

I’d divide Vivienne's opinionated dialogue in 3 layers:

Her opinion is backed by rational arguments, she’s sincere about what she's saying.

Despite her arguments being factually true, her opinion is motivated by emotional ones. As in, her real reasoning would be indefensible, so she disguises it with a factual argument. The tried and true method used by real life conservatives. (She *is* nicknamed the iron lady, an alias for a real-life certain someone…)

Although at first glance, it might appear that she's using the strategy from the previous point, she genuinely believes what she's saying. So like layer 1, but with the cadence & condescending language she would use for nº2.

The fun part of her portrait is figuring which parts of it belong to which layer:

The mirror: either a representation or her arrogance/narcissism, or a symbol of watching one's back. She is in fact in a very delicate position. Not to repeat myself too much, but Vivienne's greater strength, her ability to take the bourgeois’ wants and desires and twist them into power for herself, is a double-edged sword; her loyalties are fragile, she has to align herself with their interests lest she lose influence. She has (almost) no truly loyal allies.

Reading the chants of light, a so on the nose depiction of her faithfulness, you wouldn't be wrong to think she's making fun of you. I also wonder to what extent she is religious, this could be a facade just to gain power in a world where religion is at the top of the pyramid. (I strongly doubt that is the case, but I do think she’s not as religious as she would make herself seem). Again, she's in a very very difficult situation as the first mage divine, so she has to do everything perfectly. Any slip, no matter how small, could be fatal.

Three colors: blue, red and green. The blue is a symbol of class, and her life among the orlesian nobility (she does love their decor). The red, a symbol of the chantry, this one's pretty straightforward. And then, almost hidden, the green circle tomes. Both a throwback to her first personal quest, and her dedication to the circle.

Gold everywhere. Fully undisguised ostentatiousness. From the purple stool (class symbol), to the mirror, her wand and her clothes. This one is a vulgar display of wealth, but a very intentional one. If Leliana appeals to the farmer, Vivienne does to the noble.

Anyways, that's about it, I don't really have a big conclusion here beyond the fact that all three Divines are different enough to be interesting on their own, and similar enough to complement each other. This is even further driven home by their canon portraits clothes colors: Cassandra has red and black, Leliana has white and red, and Vivienne has white and black. All of them share one color with each of the other two candidates, with gold as the unifying color.

Thanks for reading if you got this far, and thanks to everyone's tags on this post (and every post I make), I rarely reply, but I read them all :)

The three Divines

Prints available here

[gay-dorito-dust]

‘You’re hurt.’ Bob points out and you froze, you didn’t mean to be so obvious but the pervious mission with the Thunderbolts had went array in some places, smooth sailing in others, but that didn’t change the fact that you had walked away with a bruise near your ribs.

‘It’s just a bruise Bob I’ll live.’ You told him, not wanting him to worry over something so small and harmless, but unfortunately for you, that’s exactly what bob did as he gingerly rests his hands upon your waist to get a good look at the blossoming bruise and frowns.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that you were hurt?’ He looks at you as though he was about to cry with how worried and frightened he looked for a man of his power, and all you wanted to do was cradle him close and kiss his worries away, to put his mind at ease that you were going to be okay even if the thing he was dreading was a small bruise.

‘It’s not that big of a deal sweetheart,’ you tried telling him as you held his face in your hands, caressing his cheeks in hopes that his eyes would loose that watery look within them for it was only breaking your heart, like having to leave behind a puppy for work and they start pulling out the waterworks in hopes their owners won’t go. ‘It’s a bruise and I didn’t want you to worry over something so harmless.’ You finished as you watched Bob furrow his brows as though deeply in thought.

‘But I still don’t like the thought of you being hurt.’ Bob replies, his fingers barely the bruise but the action made your breath hitch in your throat regardless, soft and gentle as though he was scared of applying more pressure and causing you more harm then he believed you were under. ‘But the thought of you hiding your hurt from me hurts even more, what if you were seriously injured?’ He asks, the worst case scenario already swarming his head.

‘Then I’d find help.’ You said calmly, this wasn’t the first time Bob had gotten like this when you were hurt from a mission, so you knew that you needed to stay calm in order to get through to him and bring him back to reality. ‘I know you worry but trust me where I say that I’m okay.’ You continued as you saw his eyes flicker to your own, looking deeply into them as though he was trying to determine what you were saying is the truth or not. ‘I’m okay.’ You echoed before kissing his nose. ‘I’m okay.’ You then kiss his forehead for good measure.

Bob visibly relaxed as he pushed his head to your shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief, but his grip on your waist never changed from its protective hold. ‘You’re okay, you’re okay.’ He chants to himself as you moved your hands to rub his back, holding him close to you as he brings himself back to the reality of your arms.

‘I’m okay, we’re okay.’ You told him as you both stayed there, glad to know that you were both going to be okay, even if things right now weren’t because as long as you and Bob were okay that’s all that mattered.

[a99jazzybean]

hi! i was wondering if you could write a spring related fic since it’s spring! i was thinking a picnic, it could be with jayvik x reader or viktor x reader or jayce x reader, or it could be viktor and the reader like each other and jayce and mel plan a picnic to set them up together. can be fluff or smut, i don’t mind! i love your writing <33

Ahhh this request was so cute, I hope you enjoy this anon!

The Spring Set-Up

synop: Viktor meets you when you're running your family bakery and is immediately smitten. With each passing visit you grow closer and closer and have grown deep affections for the man. However, both you and Viktor are too nervous to ask the other out. Jayce and Mel take it upon themselves to get you to finally admit your feelings for each other.

words: 7K

includes: viktorxfem!reader, jaymel, baker!reader, fluff, smut, public sex, exhibitionism, first date, springtime fun

a/n: This contains smut!!! No minors!

Again, love this request. Please send me more ideas you guys have, I love love love them!

Tinkling from the bell on the front door grabs your attention. Wiping your hands off on your apron, you turn to the counter and smile as a familiar face enters the bakery. This time she’s followed by two companions you have never met before. 

“I know you’re going to absolutely love it, Viktor. Remember those tarts I brought you a few weeks ago?” Councilor Medarda speaks over her shoulder to a slim man leaned against a crutch. 

“I do recall the tarts. They were quite delicious.” He seems unamused, as if there is something else on his mind at the moment.

“Oh! Those lemon ones were really good!” A taller man beside her exclaims with a bright smile.

Your smile wavers as you realize that the man is none other than Piltover’s golden boy, Jayce Talis. A celebrity if you’ve ever seen one. While Mel was certainly well known in the city, Jayce was a rising star at the moment. All eyes were on him, and if he was enjoying the treats from your bakery… Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have some more star power influencing the business. Even though the prospect was quite intimidating. 

Mel had noticed you behind the counter and strode up, elegant as ever. A polite smile on her lips as she approached. 

“Councilor Medarda, it’s great to see you!” You greeted her with a cheery smile. 

“Oh please,” she waves you off, “you know you can just call me Mel.”

You blush, and rub the back of your neck, slightly embarrassed. That’s right, Mel had told you to drop the formalities awhile ago. Seeing that she was with others though had made you revert back to your original greeting.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to you bringing guests.” Mel quirked a brow at you, then understood why you were so flustered.

“Oh dear, there’s no need for that. Jayce is very friendly. Not someone to be intimidated by.” Well, you didn’t need to point that out. 

“That obvious, huh?” You chuckled nervously, then cleared your throat. “Anyways… what would you like? The usual for you, I suppose?” You asked Mel and her guests.

With that polite smile, Mel nodded. Amused that you had remembered her order. A medium iced latte with just a dash of vanilla syrup and sugar, along with one of your father’s famous lemon poppy seed muffins. 

“Of course, you and your father know me too well.” Mel turned back to the men behind her. “And for you gentleman?” 

Jayce tapped his fingers on his chin and leaned over the glass display. The interior was filled with various delicacies that had one’s mouth watering upon its sight. Audible grumbling came from the man’s stomach as he gazed over the various pastries. Sheepishly, he turned to you behind the counter with a blush dusting his cheeks. An amused huff came from Mel as she watched the man.

“Um, I guess I’m a bit hungry.” He chuckled.

“Take your pick, I’m not busy.” You smiled softly, as you gestured to the empty shop. 

“Uh, I’ll take the double chocolate muffin then.” He pushed himself up.

“Anything to drink?” 

“Just a regular black coffee. No sugar, or cream.” 

After you took note of his order, you turned to the remaining man. A jolt shot through you as you made eye contact. Dark amber eyes stared right into yours, making your mouth go dry. How had you not noticed him earlier? His presence had sent your mind reeling. Something about him had you deeply intrigued. Your eyes trailed over his face, but kept returning to that golden gaze. Noticing he had raised a brow, you realized that you had been staring without saying anything. 

Clearing your throat again, you spoke.

“Uh, and for you, sir?” You couldn’t recall if had given his name.

“It’s Viktor. And I’ll take a plain black coffee as well.” 

“No treats?” You asked, slightly offended. No one shied away from your bakery’s goodies. Based on Mel’s conversation, he had tried some of the treats before.

“Do I need to?” A coy smirk played on his lips as he noticed the shift in your demeanor.

Taken aback, you stuttered.

“W-well, no, but almost no one leaves without one.” You did your best to return a challenging look.

“Maybe I’m no one.” He said coolly, an unfamiliar accent flowing through the vowels of his speech. 

“I doubt it.” Okay, this was… fun. 

“Is that so?” The question had you almost shivering with the way his tone shifted lower. 

Both Mel and Jayce looked at each other. Mel had a knowing sparkle in her eye, while Jayce was amused at this newfound dynamic. Viktor wasn’t known to hold back his opinions, but he had never been this playful with a stranger before. Though, the man was very good at getting a read on others. Perhaps he had just stumbled upon someone that had piqued his interest. Jayce would take note of that. 

Viktor hadn’t been one to really “put himself out there” so to speak. Maybe, just maybe, you could be the one to change that. Especially considering how amused Viktor appeared to be as he flustered you. 

“Yes,” you puffed out your chest in confidence. No one questioned the quality of your family business. “I think you need to try something. What did Mel give you last time?”

“Hmm, fair enough. I’ll give you a second chance.” He smirked at your offended gasp. “I had some mediocre tarts.” He pointed to where a stack sat in the display case. 

“Second chance? Ridiculous, those are some of our best sellers.” It was just teasing, he had to be.

“Like I said, maybe I’m not like the others.” It was bullshit, Mel and Jayce knew it. 

In fact, it was through Viktor’s praise of the treats that inspired Mel to bring the men to the bakery. 

After a long week of toiling away on new hexgems, Mel decided to pop by to treat the men hard at work. She made quite the large order from you and surprisingly picked it up herself. Though you didn’t mind, chatting with the councilor had become quite an enjoyable pastime as she attended your bakery. The woman had ordered a variety of treats, including your famous tarts. As she set the box of goodies down, the men had swarmed her. Jayce giddily opened the gift, thanking the woman profusely. The two had never been the best at feeding themselves, it was the least she could do. Viktor curiously peeked over Jayce into the box, his eyes landing on a blueberry tart that seemed to be calling his name. 

Quickly, he plucked it from the box and took a large bite out of it. Jayce and Mel practically snapped their necks to look at Viktor after he made the most lewd sounding moan created by man. The dessert was absolute perfection. A beautiful blend of sweet and tart mixed with a lovely crumbly crust. Heaven in a tart. He had finished the treat in no time flat, immediately reaching for another. 

He kept going on and on about how whoever had made the tarts had to have such a vast knowledge on proper baking skills. How the puff pastry was perfectly layered, taking amazing skill. How the tart filling had such balanced flavors. Another tart in his hands, half eaten, as he pointed out to each part that had him in awe. A perfect tart. 

Jayce was surprised at how knowledgeable Viktor was on the ins-and-outs of baking, but didn’t question it. Viktor had quite the vast amount of knowledge, it wasn’t surprising to discover yet another niche subject of his. 

Mel decided she had to take the men to the bakery. Perhaps Viktor would find some other camaraderie outside of Jayce. 

“You must tell me where you found these?” Viktor practically pleaded with Mel.

“It’s a little bakery on the West side, called The Auburn Fox. I’ll take you there sometime.”

Back in the bakery, Mel and Jayce were watching your interaction with Viktor with heightened amusement. It was clear Viktor was just messing with you, but this was the most outgoing the two had ever seen the man before. Clearly, you had quite the unique pull on him..

“I don’t believe you,” you crossed your arms and pouted. The action drawing Viktor’s eyes to your lips. They looked soft… Quickly they flitted back to you. He hoped you hadn’t noticed. 

“You told Mel they were delicious.” You stated bluntly.

“So you were eavesdropping on us?” He hummed with amusement, making you scoff.

“Don’t try to change the subject. I heard what you said.” With that you walked over to the display case. 

Pulling out some tongs, you grabbed a tart from the stack in the case and placed it on a plate. Viktor followed your movements feeling his mouth water. Surely, he would be caught if he tried one of those delicious tarts. Though with how much he was enjoying your smug look, he didn’t think he would mind you winning this faux feud. 

Placing the plate in front of Viktor, you motioned for him to take it.

“On the house. Just so I can prove you wrong.” 

“If you insist,” he picked up the treat, inspecting it. This one had a deep red filling, a lovely fruity smell wafting from it. “What flavor is it?” His gaze returned to yours. Those gold eyes sending a shiver through you.

“Rhubarb. We just picked some from our garden yesterday. It’s one of the most in season produce.” 

He hummed in thought, then brought the tart to his mouth. Tongue licking his lips in anticipation, catching your eye. The movement had you studying his face again, now spotting the mole right on the corner of his lips. He smirked as he caught you staring, then took a bite. 

As soon as the tart’s flavor hit his tongue, he was done for. The beautiful flavor washing over his tastebuds made him give out a content moan. The sound made a large smile grow on your face.

“Aha! I was right! You do like the tarts.” You stood prouder. 

“I suppose I must concede.” He nodded at you after swallowing. “You do make delicious treats.” 

“Oh, you should’ve heard him when he first tried them!” Jayce interjected, fully ready to embarrass his partner.

“T-t-there's no need for that Jayce.” Viktor attempted to stop the man.

“Oh c’mon, V, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m sure she’d love to hear how loudly you moaned when eating the blueberry tart.” 

Red bloomed on Viktor’s face and neck, making you chuckle.

“Is that true?” You asked, a glimmer in your eye.

“It isn’t not true.” Viktor mumbled.

You gave the man a soft smile. The tender action made his heart jolt. 

“Well I’ll take that as a great compliment. Thank you.” The sincerity in your voice made his chest tighten. 

He didn’t even know your name, yet you already had this effect on him. Beautiful, witty, and clearly talented in your field. Oh, he was smitten. And that revelation had definitely been spotted by his compatriots. The two seemingly plotting something. 

Taking your win, you decided to get the other orders ready. Pouring out the black coffees and making Mel’s latte. You warmed up the muffins and plated them. When you were done, you placed the order on the counter.

“Your order is ready!” You chirped. 

The trio gratefully took their orders. Viktor gave you a nod as he grabbed his coffee. A smirk playing on his lips as his eyes locked with yours. 

“Care to join us?” Mel invited, a glimmer of mischief dancing in her eyes. 

Waving them off, you give another smile. Shrugging off the way she looked at you, you turned back to your work. As you returned to preparing loaves of bread for the afternoon, you felt eyes on your back. Specifically amber eyes, ones that you couldn’t get out of your head. Though you were not alone, Viktor too couldn’t stop thinking about you. 

“So…” Mel brought Viktor out of his thoughts. 

The trio had decided to sit outside taking advantage of the warmer weather. Sunlight streamed through leaves overhead, sending dancing patterns of shadows around the area. A light breeze still kept the weather relatively cool. 

“So?” Viktor questioned Mel.

“What did you think of her?” She asked Viktor, nodding to the inside of the bakery.

Viktor turned his attention inside. Watching your back as you worked. Then he turned back to Mel, his brows raised with curious suspicion. 

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you were flirting with her.” Jayce interjected, taking a swig of his coffee.

Viktor’s mouth dropped in surprise, eyes widening at Jayce’s blatantness. 

“I, what?” He couldn’t come up with a retort. His face blooming red.

“You were flirting, it was obvious. Right?” Jayce turned to an amused Mel.

“It did appear that Viktor was interested in her. So what did you think?” Mel leaned on her hands, cocking her head curiously.

Viktor’s face flushed even more red. 

“She seemed interesting is all.”

“That’s all? It looked like you were more involved than that? Turning your conversation into a challenge and all…” Jayce gave Viktor a cheeky smirk. 

“You can be insufferable, Talis.”  Viktor spat.

To keep himself from speaking further into a hole, Viktor shoved more of his tart into his mouth. The flavor making him hum with content, but he couldn’t help but think of you again. Knowing that you had managed to make something so delicious had him wondering what else you were capable of. From just your conversation alone he could tell you were witty, seemingly able to match his speed. A very refreshing change of pace for the man, one that he would be thinking about for a while. 

Though that wouldn’t be the only thing he thought about when it came to you. In his mind his thoughts trailed to your smile. The bright twinkle in your eyes as he challenged you. Your airy laughter as you had caught him in his lie. The thoughts making him grow more and more fond, despite the fact that he didn’t even know you. So, he decided he would. 

Two days later, Viktor made an appearance in your store again. This time your father happened to be manning the front of house while you were cleaning up after the morning rush. Viktor slowly made his way to the counter, his eyes catching your form bent over a table. You were cleaning off the remnants of crumbs and any rings left by glasses and mugs. He did his best to stare respectfully, but his eyes managed to wander to the lovely curve of your ass. 

Cracking your back, you stood back up. When you turned, you were met with amber eyes that sent another jolt through you. Pushing out a short breath, you straightened up and smiled. 

“Good afternoon Viktor. Back for more mediocre tarts?” You teased.

Your voice caught the attention of your father. He gave a hearty laugh at your comment.

“So this is the guy that called your tarts mediocre?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head at Viktor. “I don’t let anyone disrespect my girl like that, young man.” 

Viktor was taken aback at how friendly your father was. He assumed you had told him about your encounter with him. Hopefully your father wasn’t actually disappointed in him. From the cheery grin on his face, he was obviously teasing him like you had been.

Rubbing his neck in embarrassment, Viktor walked up to the counter to order.

“I suppose it was a bit rude of me. Your desserts are lovely.” He spoke to your father. 

“Oh, don’t tell me. My lovely girl has to take the credit for the tarts, learned it from her mama.” 

“Oh, do you not bake as well?” Viktor thought the shop was an effort for both you and your father. Though he didn’t know all too much about you really.

“Sometimes, though the arthritis causes my fingers to lock up sometimes.” Your father shrugged. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Don’t be, my girl takes care of all things baking. I’m just the one who makes sure the lights stay on and the water keeps running.” He gave another hearty chuckle. “Now, enough about our little shop. What can I getcha?”

“Oh. Uh.” He hadn’t even thought about what to order. 

Before your father could interject, you slid in front of him at the register. A coy smile on your lips. One that had Viktor’s heart stuttering. 

“He’ll take a tart and a black coffee, plain. Right?” 

“Right.” Viktor’s throat went dry. 

Here you were again, having this awestriking effect on him. It was something he could get used to. Something that greatly enticed him. 

“Great! We’ve got apricot tarts in this time! I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Your father pet your head before you went to grab his order. Viktor watched you, memorizing how you freely moved around your working space. 

In no time, you had his order ready. A plate with an apricot tart, and a fresh mug of coffee greeting him, along with your bright smile. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.” You chirped.

“Would you like to join me?” He hoped this time you would accept the invite.

Your eyes brightened, and smile grew wider. Turning to your father, he nodded with a knowing smile. Waving you off, he spoke.

“Go on, take a break. Don’t recall the last time you’ve done that.” 

“Thanks dad.” You gave him a quick peck on a stubbled cheek, then moved to join Viktor.

From the display case, you pulled a slice of cake out for yourself. On cue, your father handed you a mug of coffee, then you joined Viktor at a table by the front window. 

As he waited, Viktor took in the interior of the bakery. It was rustic with exposed brick walls and wooden accents. Along one wall was a hand painted mural or a fox pouncing around various baked goods. Hanging lights cast a warm glow around the place. It was very cozy, somewhere he could easily find himself spending more time at. Especially if you would be making an appearance. 

You sat in front of him, then looked over the man. While you had taken in his appearance before, you didn’t get this close of a look at him. The mole by his lips that you had noticed before was accompanied by another under his right eye. Brown locks were messily brushed through with what you assumed were his long fingers. Slender appendages that were lazily tapping on the table, slightly stained with ink and oil. Recalling a previous conversation with Mel, you remembered she had mentioned the scientists that she sponsored. Now the pieces were clicking for you.

“So you’re a scientist.” You spoke first.

“I am.” He smiled softly. “What gave it away?” 

“Mel has told me about you, though not by name.” You took a bite of cake, enjoying the sweetness of the frosting. “Hextech, right?”

“Correct.” He wasn’t really sure how to continue the conversation. Though it didn’t seem like he needed to. Your curious nature asking him more.

“So you must be loaded then?” Your question was a joke, but you were still genuinely wondering.

“Already asking a man about his money?” He gave an airy chuckle.

“I like to know what I’m working with.” You teased. 

“That’s quite bold of you,” he sipped on some of his coffee. Letting the pause hang in the air. “I would say I live very comfortably.”

“I would hope so, considering you’ve literally changed the entirety of the world’s commerce.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. Hextech wasn’t something he had worked on to promote capitalistic ventures, but he and Jayce needed funding. Therefore, it was a bit of a necessary evil. 

“It wasn’t our first choice of invention. But the Hexgates did grant us a great understanding of the arcane.” He hummed in thought. 

“What would be your first choice?” This wasn’t just small talk, you genuinely wished to know. 

“I want to help people. Both Jayce and I do.” Viktor was finding himself greatly enjoying your presence. Outside of Jayce, no one ever really asked about his wants. 

Sure, Mel knew about them, but that was merely pragmatism. The woman was able to act with tact when necessary, and managed to deal with Viktor in such a manner. 

However, there was you. A woman he had barely met, already asking about his wishes with unadulterated sincerity. Refreshing, yes, and something that had him feeling fulfilled. Even if he had yet to reach those goals, you wanted to hear about them.

“That’s a noble cause.” You said, that soft smile playing on your lips. A sight that Viktor could get used to. 

“It’s a necessary cause.” His gaze grew serious.

Briefly, your eyes flitted to the crutch leaning against the wall, then back to Viktor. He caught the minute action, and huffed out. Though, you weren’t looking at him with pity. You sat patiently, waiting for him to continue. Not as though you were afraid of offending him, more so that you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. 

“It is a necessary cause for me personally, yes. However, there are others I wish to help.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Eyes scrunched shut as he thought how to continue. Would you take offense to his selfishness? Looking back up at you, he realized you were still waiting for him to speak. Nodding your head, you encouraged him to continue.

“In order for me to help others, I do need to help myself.” 

“I think your cause is both noble and necessary.” You said confidently, smile wider. An infectious one that had Viktor returning a smile back at you. “I don’t think you should worry about whether or not your aspirations are selfish. In the end, they will aid those in need, no?”

He nodded at your query.

“So it’s a win-win in my eyes.” With that, you reached for his now empty plate and mug. 

Before you could walk off with the items, a slender hand lightly reached for your wrist. Shivers crawled up your spine at his touch. From his seat, those amber eyes sent a jolt into your stomach. Sparkling with a sincerity you had the rare pleasure of witnessing. 

“Thank you.” He paused, chewing his tongue as he thought about his next words carefully. “It feels good to talk like that.” 

Again, you gave him a bright smile. 

“Of course, Viktor. I’ll lend an ear any time.” You meant it, and he knew it. 

Viktor had begun to make a regular appearance at your bakery. Now your father knew the man by name and had his order memorized. However, he always had you preparing it for the scientist. Your father also had developed a new habit of making himself scarce and telling you to take a break when Viktor happened to visit. While it was an odd change, you didn’t mind it. Seeing Viktor had now become a highlight of your day. 

When he wasn’t able to make it in, he always apologized the next day. Every time you told him not to worry about it, but it did feel nice knowing he was thinking about you. 

By now the man had managed to try every flavor of tart you offered during the season. You told him new ones would come with summer and fall, but he didn’t mind having the same flavors repeatedly. As long as you joined him, he enjoyed the treats. Plus, admittedly, he seemed to be addicted to the pastries. He didn’t know if he should tell you that though, considering how smug you had been the first time. He didn’t know if his heart would fare another playful fight with you.

Repeatedly, you had tugged away at his heartstrings. Always listening to him so intently and actively participating in conversation. Then there were your own aspirations. Growing your family business and working on a program to help feed those in need. The bakery was fairly well off, but most of what you earned went straight into maintaining the business. Ever so slowly you were working your way to completing your philanthropic goals. 

“I could help, you know.” Viktor said after you had laid out your plan for a soup kitchen on the border of the undercity and Piltover. 

“Viktor, I could never ask you to do that.” You didn’t want him to feel like he had to aid you just because you were friends. 

“I want to help you.” He emphasized, reaching for your hand across the table. “Just as much as you wish for me to accomplish my dreams, I wish the same for you.” 

Your chest tightened at his words. Viktor had found himself opening up more and more to you with each meeting. This tenderness was unnatural for him, yet felt right when it came to you. A person like you deserved this sweetness, and he would smother you in it. That is… if you would have him. 

However, he could never ask that of you. Both of you were so deeply entrenched in your own business. He would feel as if he was distracting you from your aspirations. Even if he so deeply wished that you would look at him the same. 

Little did the man know, you did. It was honestly surprising to you that he hadn’t caught on. You were never good at hiding your true feelings. Something your father would tease you about. 

You felt the same as Viktor though, not wanting to pull him away from his work. Both of you continued to dance around your true feelings. It was much to your friends’ detriment. Jayce and Mel held back their groans as you spoke about each other. Jayce wished to knock some sense into his partner, and Mel wanted to shake your shoulders hoping you would figure it out after some tough love. It seemed that those ways wouldn’t work though. 

Instead, the two began plotting. If they couldn’t get you to that conclusion on your own, then they needed to intervene. It would be simple. Jayce pretending to find an excuse for Viktor to go outside. Mel would nonchalantly order some of your famous tarts to be delivered to a nearby park, with a secret warning to your father that you would be out. Him and Mel shared a knowing wink as she placed the order. 

While you might be his baby girl, your father had hoped you would get out more. Always holed up in the shop was not doing well for your social life. Plus, he was getting older. The fear of aging making him concerned that he wouldn’t be able to take care of you. Yes, you were a confident and independent woman, but what good father wished to see his daughter alone? Viktor was a lovely gentleman, never making your father worry once. His polite first impression made him a major contender in your non-existent line-up of suitors. 

Together, this unlikely trio managed to set up the perfect spring time date. A lovely picnic that Jayce would ditch Viktor on, just for you to show up. An absolutely perfect opportunity for the two of you to confess your affections for each other. 

You didn’t bat an eye when your father sent you off with the basket of goodies. Mel wasn’t a stranger to ordering delivery, so the task was simple enough. Plus, you got to enjoy the wonderful weather outside. 

After a few dreary days of thunderstorms, the clouds had parted into a wonderful sunny day. A cool breeze flowed through your hair as you made your way through town. You were heading to a secluded park next to a little-known pond. A very intimate setting. You wondered if Mel and Jayce were going on a date. Perhaps it would be odd of you to intrude, though you were on the job. You doubted they would mind your brief presence.

Viktor begrudgingly allowed Jayce to drag him to the park. He bribed him with feeding ducks with the old frozen peas pushed deep in the lab freezer. It was a lovely day, and after the amount of work the two had been doing, a break was much needed. With the air pressure back down, Viktor’s leg was feeling significantly better. While dreary weather tended to appeal to his mood most days, the changes in the atmosphere could be quite the bane of his existence. The reprieve from the storms was something he wouldn’t take for granted. 

Jayce had made a big display for their outing. Laying out a large picnic blanket on a slightly shaded hill. It had the perfect view of the pond. Dotting the water were mother ducks with their yellow ducklings. Viktor spotted a swan couple on one end as well, along with their babies. He would be sure to give them a good fill of peas later. 

As Jayce continued to set up the picnic, he paused peering into the basket. With a bit too much force, he slapped his forehead. 

“Oh! I’m sorry V, I forgot something.” He couldn’t help but smile, knowing what was coming next. “I’ll go grab it real quick, gimme like ten minutes.” 

Rolling his eyes, Viktor paid no mind to the man’s over enthusiastic antics. He was just enjoying the short amount of rest he was able to get during this break. Sighing with content, the man laid back on the blanket and closed his eyes. 

After a few minutes he heard the shuffling of grass nearby. Peeking open an eye, he was blinded by the sun. He put his arm over his head, and watched as a figure above him came into view. His heart jolted as he realized you were peering down at him curiously. 

“Good afternoon.” You said cheerily, that sweet smile on your lips. 

“Good afternoon.” He said, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

Viktor sat up and looked around the park. There was no sign of Jayce. A realization dawned on him. Slowly, he turned back to you, eyes wide. 

“Is everything alright?” Your brows were furrowed with concern at the shift in his demeanor. 

He shook off the nerves, and cleared his throat.

“Uh, yes. Of course.” He chuckled awkwardly. “What brings you here?”

“Mel had me deliver some tarts to a picnic at this park. Which I’m assuming is here.” You gazed around the park. “Is she joining you?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” 

You placed the basket beside him and noticed a letter inside. 

“Oh! There’s a letter for you in here.” 

Viktor’s name was written in cursive on the envelope, unmistakably Mel’s penmanship. Swallowing thickly, he reached for the letter and opened it. Eyes widening as he read through it.

Viktor, 

Since you appear to be inept at making any romantic advances to someone you clearly hold affections for. Jayce and I have taken it upon ourselves to set up a lovely picnic for the two of you. Enjoy the treats and wine! You may thank us at a later date. 

Beneath Mel’s letter, Jayce had written a note as well.

P.S. Tell her how you feel! Seriously, V, it’s getting really irritating that you won’t. If you don’t I will! That is a threat and a promise! Love, Jayce 

A small heart was drawn next to his note. Viktor rolled his eyes and huffed. Looking back at you, he realized you were patiently waiting for him.

“It appears we have been set up, miláčku.” You didn’t understand the petname, but with the soft way he said it, you could tell it was sweet. 

“Set up?” You asked as you sat beside him. 

You couldn’t recall being this close to him before. Sure, he had occasionally reached for your hand, but that was always across a table. Now you were practically shoulder to shoulder, legs sliding against each other. With the closeness you could smell the sweet musk of his cologne along with the remnants of oil and metal from his time in the lab. 

Beside you, Viktor was taking you in as well. The smell of vanilla and butter wafting off you deliciously. How soft your exposed skin looked. The sun sparkling in your windswept hair. Instinctively, he reached for a piece curling around your cheek. Pushing it behind your ear gently, the tender action made your face burn. 

He smirked at the flustered state he had put you in. 

“You didn’t answer me.” You said softly.

“You’re a smart woman, I’m sure you were able to reach the same conclusion I have.” He smirked at you. Enjoying the way your eyes sparkled when you made the realization. 

“Did they set us up on a date?” You asked. 

He nodded, smiling softly. 

“Yes, they have.” 

You could feel your heart thudding in your chest as your face grew redder. Was your attraction to the man that obvious? You thought you had been doing a good job at hiding how you felt. Oh how wrong you were. 

“I think we’ve been dancing around this conversation for quite some time now.” He said, reaching for your hand.

You allowed him to slip his fingers between yours, his touch made you shiver. With shaky fingers, you curled your hand with his. 

“I suppose we have.” You nodded, staring down at your conjoined hands. 

Looking back up, you realized Viktor had been watching you. His gold eyes desperately reading your face, hoping that you felt the same. Worry filled those amber pools. Worry that you wished to dissipate. 

Impulsively, you leaned in. Lightly pressing your lips to him, he gave a shocked huff. His eyes widening, then fluttering shut. Viktor leaned into the kiss, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek. The other holding your hand tightened, grounding him. Allowing him to recognize this moment as reality and not another one of his dreams. 

Sighing with content, you pulled back. Viktor’s mouth hung open slightly, his breathing grew a bit labored. He wasn’t done yet. With the hand still on your cheek, he pulled you back in. 

Opening his mouth, his tongue prodded at your lips. You parted them, meeting your tongue with his. Your taste had him groaning, just as sweet as your desserts. You gave a soft moan as he pressed against you. Soft hands tangled in his chestnut locks, lightly tugging. The action earning you another groan against your lips. 

He pulled away from you, touching his forehead against yours. His lips kissed all over your face and neck making you giggle. 

“Viktor!” You squeaked, as he pinned you underneath him. 

Looking up at him, you were mesmerized. His amber gaze searched your face for any flicker of doubt. When he didn’t find any he leaned back down to kiss you. His hand caressed down your side, then reached under your dress. You froze up at the movement, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Viktor, anyone could see!” You whispered, eyes wide. 

He remained composed, his hand tracing circles on your exposed thigh. He gave you a toothy grin, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he returned back to his previous movement. 

“Let them see.” He said lowly, sending a shiver through you. 

It didn’t matter to him. He needed you now. For so long he had gone without affections from another. Now here you were, so beautiful and willing. Wanting him of all people. It was something fueled by desperation, but he would follow it. Follow whatever would lead him to having you completely. 

His fingers reached your panties and he groaned. The slender appendages traced over the damp fabric.

“Already so wet.” He groaned, hot breath against your ear. “I need to feel you, lásko.” He breathed out. 

Nodding, you gave him permission. 

“Please.” 

His fingers slipped your panties down your legs, then he pushed a long finger inside of your wet heat. A loud moan escaping you, you clamped your hand over your mouth after hearing the sound. Viktor practically growled as he ripped his hand off of your face. Eyes darkening as he stared into yours. 

“No, I want to, I need to hear you.” He lifted himself over you.

A smirk dancing on his lips as he played with your drenched pussy. Fingers tracing over your folds, and circling your clit. Your thighs clenched and lifted up, begging for more from the man. This time he plunged two fingers inside you. The action making you cry out. He licked his lips as he watched you come undone beneath him. Your thighs were shaking with each press to the spongy spot on your inner walls. Each pump of his fingers making a knot form in your belly. Something was getting closer and closer to snapping. He groaned as he watched your eyes roll back. The walls of your pussy tightening around his fingers. Closer, and closer, he took in all of you as his fingers worked you to the edge. 

“Viktor… ah… Vikor…” You were babbling now. Pleasure made tears prick at the corner of your eyes. 

One final thrust into your heat had you convulsing. Your release drenching Viktor’s fingers, making him stare at you in awe. Gold eyes roaming over your spent body, taking in your trembling form. Your mouth letting out soft moans as you came down from the high of your climax.  But he wasn’t done yet. 

Looking around, he didn’t spot any people. Carefully, he slid off his belt and pushed down his pants and boxers to his thighs. Just enough to expose himself to you. With wide eyes, you watched as he gripped his cock. Long, slender, with a delicious curve. It had your legs shaking with anticipation. 

You couldn’t recall the last time you had sex, and now the man you had been harboring affections for was about to take you. In a public park no less. The idea had you buzzing. Your pussy was begging to be filled. 

The head of his cock slid against your folds teasingly. While Viktor would love to take his time with you. There was a desperate need to just thrust into you and fill you. So that’s what he did. His cock sheathing inside quickly, the movement making your hips jolt. You cried out as he began to move inside you. The tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly. Again, you found yourself babbling. Your hands clawed at Viktor’s back for purchase. Locking your legs around his hips, you found yourself subconsciously meeting each of his thrusts. Your clit rubbing deliciously against his pelvis. 

Your next orgasm was on the horizon. Each press against you building up that intense pressure within you. Viktor wasn’t far behind. 

When your warmth sucked him in, he felt like he could have released in that moment. Tight, wet heat surrounded him, making him groan with each thrust. He was thankful for the cool breeze as he continued to pound into you. 

“Viktor… I-I’m…” You couldn’t finish your sentence. 

Pure pleasure washed over you as you came. Pussy clenching against Viktor making him curse out. More of your release splashed against his pelvis, drenching the picnic blanket beneath you. 

“Fuck, yes. Oh. Fuck.” He cried out as you squeezed him.

Quickly, his release came. Hot ropes of cum flooding inside you, providing a comforting warmth. Your pussy fluttered around him as his cock twitched inside, releasing as much as he could. 

Your hands wrapped around the man’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. His tongue danced with yours as his hands caressed your body. He watched as he pulled himself out of you with a groan. Enjoying the way his cum slid down your thighs. A sight he could get used to.

After pulling his pants up, Viktor laid down next to you. A content smile on his face. 

“I would love to do that again.” He reached for your hand and pressed it to his lips. “If you will have me.”

“The impromptu date? Or the public sex?” You teased with an airy chuckle, still catching your breath.  

“Hmm… why not both? Though perhaps the sex could be somewhere a bit more private.” He turned to you, eyes glimmering.

You realized you hadn’t actually confessed anything to the man. Your impulsive kiss had led you to making love in public, yet you hadn’t even said how you felt. 

“I really like you Viktor. I like you a lot.” You said as you turned to face him.

“I sure would hope so.” 

“I would like to continue this.” You said.

“As would I.” 

He leaned in placing a soft kiss against your forehead, then nose, then lips. The tender action had you smiling against his mouth as you kissed him back. 

Shuffling from behind you, had you both jolting up. Coming over a hill was Jayce and Mel. The large man was bright red in the face, while the woman had a coy smile playing on her lips. As they approached, you and Viktor attempted to make yourselves presentable. Mel waved you off. 

“I was expecting our little setup to be entertaining… However, I wasn’t expecting a full show like that.” She teased. 

Your face burned red.

“Y-you were watching?” You squeaked. 

“Of course, we set this date up. We wanted to witness the fruits of our labor. Though we might have gotten more than we had bargained for. Isn’t that right Jayce?” Mel hummed, amused at how flustered the man was.

“Mhmm.” Jayce couldn’t make eye contact with you. Your eyes darted to the hand that was attempting to nonchalantly cover a very prominent bulge in his pants. 

“Well as entertaining as that was, I suggest you two leave that in the bedroom next time.”  

“Oh, don’t worry.” Viktor reached for your hand. A teasing smirk played on his lips. “We will.” 

[leviruthan]

they find out your yaoi

characters : idia shroud, kalim al asim, malleus draconia, riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, lilia vanrogue

note : I've never played the game (unfortunately) feel free to point out mistakes, also first post

IDIA SHROUD

idia hacked into your computer to help you fix a technical issue and accidentally opened a folder labeled with a vague name, or obvious name

you can imagine his hair turns pink as soon as he processes the contents

what is wrong with you?! he can't believe you're into...that kind of stuff! it's so...lewd!

if he told you that you'd say "yeah like you haven't watched any hent-" don't say anymore he's dying

he needs to cleanse his eyeballs with holy water

he'd be mortified and probably avoid eye contact with you for weeks

KALIM AL ASIM

in his usual boundless enthusiasm, kalim was helping you decorate your room for a party

he accidentally pulled down a shelf, and several of your books tumbled out, revealing their covers

kalim would blink, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity

"woah! [Name], these stories look amazing! all these guys are so close! are they, like, best friends? is this a story about really strong friendships? can we read them together sometime? it looks super fun!"

he'd be completely oblivious to the romantic/erotic subtext and just see it as a tale of close camaraderie

he might not immediately grasp the romantic implications, seeing it more as a story about close bonds

he's too innocent for this please be careful and keep the 18+ ones away

MALLEUS DRACONIA

malleus found a volume of your manga that had fallen out of your bag while you were walking in the gardens

he picked it up, curious about the artwork

malleus would tilt his head, his expression unreadable

"...fascinating. these...bonds between individuals are quite...intense. is this a common form of...human connection? it seems to inspire great passion. i must admit, i find myself...intrigued. perhaps you could enlighten me further on the nuances of this...genre, y/n?"

he'd be genuinely curious and surprisingly open-minded, though maybe a little clueless

I fear you'll have to teach him about something lilia didn't either

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

he was tidying your desk because you weren't doing it properly, of course

and a manga slipped out from under a textbook. the cover had two rather handsome gentlemen looking… quite close

he picked it up, brow furrowed, and flipped through a few pages before his cheeks flushed crimson like his hair

a very quiet and scandalized "good heavens" can be heard

he'd quickly place the manga back exactly where he found it, pretending he never saw it

later he might subtly inquire about your reading preferences, perhaps suggesting some "proper" literature

he'd be internally conflicted – on one hand, it's probably against the rules for a student to be reading.... such things

but on the other, it's your personal interest, if it brings you happiness then...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

he was napping in his usual spot, happened to lean against your backpack and a book with suspicious cover slipped out

a low chuckle would escape him, he'd raise an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face

"herbivore's got some interesting tastes"

he wouldn't be particularly surprised or bothered. in fact, he might find it slightly amusing

will definitely tease you about it later though

LILIA VANROUGE

he was simply being his usual mischievous self, scaring you with his presence out of the blue

and well you were reading, you would try to hide it

being the curious creature (and nosy) he is, of course he wouldn't let you!

after taking it from you, he decided to take a closer look. the content made his eyes twinkle with amusement

a soft, delighted chuckle

"oh my"

a wide, knowing smile would be gracing his lips

he'd find it rather endearing and perhaps even a little bit funny

he'd see it as another interesting facet of your personality

might share some real stories too who knows

[awionetka]

𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞! ♯

3, 2, 1, go! love and deepspace boys become street racers (while possibly romancing you in the process)...

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫: fluff (?), drabble. street racer!Sylus x street racer!reader. could be treated as a preview for a (possible) longer fic.

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 / 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 / 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 / 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 / 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠…

♯ million dollar man; lana del rey

♯ don't go insane; dpr ian

♯ i was never there; the weeknd

For Sylus, street racing was nothing more than a means to an end.

He had his reasons, some less morally acceptable than others, but nonetheless the rationality of his decision making could never be questioned. Nor anybody had ever tried to do so, certainly not with the amount of sheer authority Sylus emanated, enveloping all that was around him in a thick, sticky layer of awe and fear. Or perhaps, those two were just simply synonymous in their own, twisted way. Not like it mattered in the very end. Too much of either would inevitably result in him being left alone and unbothered, which was something Sylus longed for dearly.

Before he instructed his henchmen to purchase his car of choice, an impressively well kept Dodge Challenger, and made his very own tweaks to it in the quiet of his garages, Sylus had spent countless hours riding through the city on a vintage motorcycle. In a way, it helped him out when it came to street racing. Although the feeling of it was vastly different, he knew his way around the emptied streets and openly used that to his advantage. Ever the inventor, he kept surprising his rivals with the most peculiar of improvements, all of which he thought of, and constructed, entirely by himself.

The time Sylus made an appearance in the bustling nightlife spots of Linkon City was similarly particular. He was the right person at the right moment, in a place as good as any. And though he didn't exactly long for all the recognition he'd been receiving since he started racing, it certainly did earn him plenty of useful, more or less extorted, connections he was oh, so excited to put to use.

It was true, however, that after a while of getting everything he could ever wish for and more, even competing in such adrenaline boosting activities inevitably began to bore him.

That was, of course, until he heard a certain rumour one night. Sylus spotted it in passing; it was obvious that no one would dare to tell him that straight to his face. It'd been weeks since he moved all his endeavours to Linkon and staying on top proved to be less of a challenge than solving a crossword from the morning paper.

Apparently there was a reason his rivals were severely lacking in skill and experience – Sylus managed to kickstart his underground career mere days after the previous champion, sporting a name eerily similar to his own, almost kicked the bucket during a race. And now, having been brought back to a useful state once again, you were about to reclaim your number one spot.

And as soon as you were fully ready to take on that challenge, Sylus would be waiting, with a worn out leather jacket thrown over his shoulder and that one, specific quirk of his lips that didn't make him look any less intimidating whatsoever.

Oh, how enraged you were at that moment.

"That is just absurd!" Your arms spun in the air with fervour. "I need that done by tonight. Am I speaking gibberish?"

The woman in front of you shrugged, apparently not very moved by your display of force. "Yeah, well, and I need some utter peace and quiet. What do you have to say about that?"

"This is fucking insane. Insane! I cannot go back like that!"

You pointed at your beloved Mazda, now situated on a car jack in an almost compromising position. It looked positively miserable, with its mismatched rims and bits of chipped paint here and there. An image of utter and complete despair. Much like you, it had been through hell and back, and somehow made it out okay. You weren't just going to let her go as though it was all nothing.

The mechanic sighed audibly, wiping her hands off with a questionably dirty cloth, then sat down next to you.

"If you were to ask me," she began cautiously, much like one would approach a bomb of unknown origin. "I'd say that people will love that shit. Rose from the ashes and whatnot. It sells."

"I don't care what 'sells'. The only thing I need is to show that poor excuse of a racer where his place is – below me."

She scoffed, apparently deciding to give up on your case and therefore leaving you with your own problems.

"You know, Ruby..." She glanced at you above her shoulder before stepping out. "A skilful driver will never blame their ride. It's a shame, though. I really thought that you'd be among them."

You would make them all swallow their words back up. Onyx included. Him especially.

Only him.

[ciel-phantomhives-world]

I don't think that he's the worst kind of devil cuz we don't have any other devils in the manga that we could compare him with. But I think he's perhaps somewhat good compared to devil standards ? (I mean he could betray OCiel in one way or another, just like the "low class devils" he mentioned during the time when the contract was being established but he actually didn't do such and even though he said that OCiel was asking for 4 wishes, still he decided to listen and carry out all of them, right?). That's because he didn't need to take this Butler job so seriously, he didn't need to perfect his ways when it comes to making food (that he can't even taste or enjoy as humans), he didn't need to do everything around the house and could simply enjoy Mey Rin, Finny and baldo destroying everything around the house (even they didn't take the time to improve their ways of cooking/cleaning/gardening that much, but I know I know, they r mere humans and aren't as passionate/perfectionist towards the normal job as him), he didn't need to stop (domestic) violence towards Lizzie, OCiel, Soma. He also didn't need to be that much respectful towards Tanaka, or Francis. Like at one point, you can definitely see that he's trying too hard and it just doesn't feel like it's only pretense but that he's TOTALLY enjoying what he's doing and that he cares (about his job as a Butler which would automatically include caring for OCiel, at least as his master, as well). He's enjoying this so much that he even saw Agni as a muse. Maybe his life was a bore before but now being a Phantomhive butler bought him many joys, challenges and drama ✨, I must say. Sure, he's doing it for an obvious reason (or a payment), like anybody else but it's not just for the payment (AKA OCiel's soul) but it seems more like he's doing it cuz he finally found his dream job (and cats) and he's totally living in the moment or living the dream.

I know the whole point of Kuroshitsuji is to remember that Sebastian is playing the hella long game and is really the worst kind of devil because he's just excitedly waiting to eat people's soul this whole time. But you CANNOT tell me he doesn't enjoy being Ciel's butler. Like... it can't ALL be fake just to get his soul in the end. I refuse to believe.

[diedraechin]

It's been a while since there's been a sneak peek...

I actually thought I had posted this months ago and felt bad about not putting the chapter out, but no, I never did, so...

Remember back during the Skate America chapters how Viktor got all bent out of shape about Yuuri's fashion sense?

Well.........

“Yuuri! Come here!” 

Halfway down the hall that led to the banquet hall—sorry, the ‘Big Top,’ because the organizers had decided to do something a little less traditional and opted for a circus-themed banquet—Matthew Smith, ice dancer and Scythecapades drama instigator, was frantically waving his arms. His partner, Carolyn Jones, covered her mouth with one impeccably manicured hand while gripping a drink. The pair seemed in high spirits even though they'd only taken silver instead of the hoped-for gold, having lost out to their Canadian rivals.

With a sigh, Yuuri shoved his hands into his pockets and headed toward the ice dancers. He didn’t know them well by any means, but supposed they were familiar enough at this point for more than just an exchange of pleasantries. After all, they did start the game with the suit—the one he was currently wearing—at the Four Continents banquet. Viktor had complained about the lack of decent pictures from the event for almost a week after the fact, which had honestly thrilled Yuuri a little bit. If he was going to be in love with his best friend who did not love him back, he deserved to find enjoyment in “teasing” and “torturing” and “being mean” to Viktor, and his myriad of mixed and confusing signals.

Matt’s eyes settled on Yuuri’s neck. The American skater’s lips instantly turned up into a knowing smile, the kind that looked ready to explode into a laugh at any moment. “Nice tie. What happened to the one you were wearing at Four Continents with this suit?” 

“It’s a funny story, actually–” 

Matt put a finger up to cut him off.  “If it really is, we should put a pin in you telling it until your friend who just arrived finishes glad-handing with the ISU brass and makes his way over here.” He nodded meaningfully toward the other end of the hallway. Yuuri didn’t even bother turning around because it was obvious that Matt meant Viktor. After all, who else but Viktor would care about Yuuri’s neckwear? 

Caro leaned forward into Yuuri’s space, giving the cheap tie an inspection of her own. The ice dancer had left her box braids down today, except for a handful that had been twisted up into a crown. The overall effect, paired with her pale pink dress against her rich brown skin, was incredibly beautiful. “Please tell me you did this on purpose,” she snickered as she ran her fingers over the material. “I need you to have done this on purpose.”

“Not exactly,” Yuuri replied, pulling away from Caro’s grasp. “I just seized an opportunity, I guess.”

“Yuuri! Have Matt and Caro cornered you?” Viktor chimed in from behind, his voice getting closer and closer. “They aren’t trying to proposition you, are they?” 

What? Why was Viktor being weird? No one was going to proposition him. Only Viktor (and of course Steph, even though she knew the answer was no) had ever shown an interest in taking him to bed. “No, not at all.” Yuuri turned around to look at Viktor. “I don’t even know why you’d ask that.”

Viktor instantly stopped dead and was just staring at him now. His brow was creased, his mouth slightly opened, and his eyes wide, whatever weird teasing mood he’d been in a moment prior well gone now. Next to him, Chris grinned broadly, looking as close to breaking out in laughter as Matt had been. “Is this the tie you were wearing at the Four Continents banquet?”

[polyphemusboo]

ghost fic to Nails by Call Me Karizma if possible? I linked the music video from YouTube to make it easier :p, have a good day/night!!!

cw: brief? smut. cannibalism as a metaphor for an 0rgy. a human s-crifice, sort of. a hearth and witches. the underworld (not Hell). the devil wears prada, but literally. simon’s a simp. established relationship. they’re freaks. reader spikes simon’s brownies (he’s aware). that mv + peek a boo by red velvet cuz yes.

simon ghost riley x gn!reader.

Death Becomes You

If your partner tells you they’re part of a coven and you don’t immediately think they’re the coolest, you’re lame. At least, that’s how Simon sees it.

Truly, he never really questioned it. If you have places to be, Simon’s nobody to ask you about it, because you’re capable of taking care of yourself. He doesn’t really mind the blood stains —that he ends up cleaning because you usually pass out pretty soon after arriving—, nor the weird scratches he can see on your arms when you sleep next to him. He knows that if you needed his help, you would just ask him. The scratches make him squint, however. Cheating’s never been in his mind, up until that point.

Simon decided to ask once, the morning after he saw those scratches the first time, but the deadpan look in your eyes, the arch of your eyebrow, made him apologize, cheeks warm. That night, he made sure to make you come as many times as possible, three fingers deep inside, mouth all over you until he could taste your forgiveness for the slip of his tongue. He knelt for hours, flipping you onto your back and stomach until you pushed him away, sensitive. He got a really nice, warm meal after that.

It’s not like it comes as an actual surprise, looking back.

Not a single bug in sight except for spiders you would refuse to let him kill, jars filled with sparkling, crystal water you would not let him touch, all those weird things that would happen around the house, and your baking. Your brownies make him so sleepy he often finds himself waking up on the table with half a bite still in his mouth, with you nowhere to be seen for hours. Simon just gulps down the bite of brownie and lays on the couch, watching a show until you’re back.

He’s surprised, though, when you suddenly stop baking. No cooking, no touching. Simon keeps himself busy, trying not to think of the inevitable; you’re losing feelings. It’s so painfully obvious, with you being extra nice, coming home directly after work and spending less time out, talking to him, but there’s… nothing. You barely even kiss him anymore.

And then, after a whole month, you sit him down on the bed. A month without your food, a month without you letting him go down on you —a month of misery. A month of nothing. Simon’s mind fills with desperate screams, thinking you’re leaving him. That’s it, he thinks as he sits in front of you, you’re finally leaving him and he’s back to being alone and without you. He probably did something wrong, and you don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to hurt him. 

Simon’s already begging in his mind, because you look so sad, so nervous, and he really can’t believe you’re gonna leave him just like—

“I’m a witch.”

He stares, waiting. 

For a hot moment, neither of you say anything. Simon’s lips purse, body shaking, and he can’t hold it back any longer when your shoulders slump further. “What… does that have to do with anything?”

“Huh?”

“You’re leaving me, and you’re telling me you’re a witch… Why, exactly?”

“I’m- leaving you?”

Simon springs up from the bed, pacing in front of you. He waves a hand around the room, choking down his tears of desperation. The walls seem ready to swallow him, to drown him. “Yes, of course you are. You don’t want to look at me, won’t let me hold you at night, and you even refused to hug me for the past few days. I don’t even understand why!”

He doesn’t realize you’re standing as well, lips trembling as you look at him, bright eyes warming at his reaction. Your lips curl up, amused. Simon’s too busy panicking to see the smile he’s missed oh so much, however.

“No brownies, even though those have been my favorite for the past three years, no cuddling, no kissing, no ‘good morning, sweetheart’. What did I do wrong?” 

“Simon.”

“No! You know what, I don’t even wanna hear it. It’s fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll just grab my stuff and I’ll leave.”

Simon’s not expecting you to push him to the bed, lungs collapsing when your mouth finds his. Deep in his mind, he’s sure you’re just giving him this one more time so he doesn’t leave with his heart entirely broken, but there’s no way he’s gonna stop you. He can taste the way you’re calling him an idiot, brainless and stupid. Simon eats it up, slurping your tongue, making sure you can feel him through your clothes when he grips your hips tightly. He doesn’t care. If this is his last chance, he’ll prove you he can stay. He’s worth it. He really is.

“I tell you I’m a witch, and you don’t even blink,” you grunt, fingers scratching on his skin when you remove his t-shirt. It’s hot, and he’s sweating buckets, but he doesn’t make a single move to pin you down. It you want it like this, you can have it. “Ridiculous. Did you even listen to me?”

“Why would I care?” Simon pants, fingers tugging on the soft fabric of your clothes. The skin to skin contact nearly makes him faint, and he’s not even inside of you yet.

“I’ve been spiking your brownies,” you confess in a hiss, leaning down to bite down on his neck. “It’s easier to leave when you’re asleep”. Your skin is burning, smooth yet sticky, and it keeps him in a trance. It’s clear you’re trying to warn him, maybe make him understand, but honestly…

“They’re good. Worth it.”

“You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Mhm.”

The thing is, of course he knows. Brownies shouldn’t make people so dizzy, so sleepy they pass out for hours; but you never hurt him, and he didn’t question it because why would he? He gets to eat good brownies, and gets to muffle his complaints when he’s fucking you with his tongue, so really, Simon wins.

He keeps winning when you’re still babbling against the bedsheets, cheek shiny with spit as your words mix with your whimpers, telling him all the things you’ve done behind his back, all the things you’ve done with the coven deep in the night. Simon’s cock is pounding so deep inside of you that he’s almost sure you’re fucking with him when you mention his boss, and that delicious meatloaf you made last year.

“What?” He grunts anyway, one of his hands pressing down on your back, making sure you’re bending just the way he knows you like. The reaction is immediate, if the way your toes curl is anything to go by.

“Mhm. Baked.”

Simon doesn’t even bother asking, accepting his fate, and leans down forward, his strong arm wrapping around your neck to keep you in place as picks up the pace. The slapping of skin against skin is loud and overwhelming enough that he can’t hear your confessions anymore, and Simon couldn’t care less, not when you’re falling apart under him. Your babbling becomes only that, mindless words and whimpers, eyes rolling back into your skull when Simon only pins you harder on the bed. 

It goes on, and on, and on.

The birds chirping outside remind Simon that neither of you slept tonight, but he’s too busy holding your legs on his shoulders to care. Your eyes are half-lidded, expression cock-drunk, and he wouldn’t have it any other way; you’ve come apart so many times tonight that he’s sure you’re never leaving. That’s really all he cares about, not losing you —and making sure you’re satisfied, really.

Only when you mumble at him to give you a break, does he gently shift away. Simon gives you some time to breathe as he grabs a warm, damp pillow to wipe you down with it, humming contently. A smirk slowly curls his lips up, making sure to press kisses down your heated skin, a happy feeling blooming in his chest.

“Come with me.” Your voice is soft and dreamy, and he’s once again reminded of how long he went without hearing you sound like that.

“Where?”

“Home.”

When the sun comes down again, Simon’s finally allowed to come with you. For three years, he never once thought of asking you where you went, didn’t even wonder if he could know, and now, you guide him deep into the forest, with only a candle in your hands. You’re wearing a deep purple cloak over thin, white clothes, but he’s wearing his usual hoodie and trousers. It makes him feel out of place, but you had insisted. “Trust the process”, you told him.

Simon’s not expecting the group of people smiling at him when you two finally reach a big hearth in the middle of a clearing. There are seven people, all of them standing around the fire with their backs against big trees; two of them are empty. It takes him a moment, but when his eyes focus he realizes they’re all naked. Lips parted, slightly confused, he turns to you, only to see that your cloak and clothes are also gone. He frowns, not fond of people looking at you this way, but your smile has him sighing.

They all introduce themselves, names that Simon somehow already knew just looking at their faces, but nobody really talks, their lips unmoving. He doesn’t blink when their soft hands get rid of his clothes, voices filling his mind as they tug on him, pulling him closer to the hearth. Your eyes find his whenever he feels a spark of doubt, giving him a cheeky smile.

Simon’s eyes fall shut when your lips find his, but it doesn’t stop there. Hands grip on him, tugging on his skin, feeling as it’s ripped from his body but it doesn’t hurt. It’s pleasant, and it’s warm. 

It’s hot.

He’s not sure he’s even been touched by so many people, let alone at the same time, but he can’t think. Wet lips and soft hands, teeth and warm skin burn on him. It burns, and burns. When his eyes blink open, they’re all in the middle of the hearth, teeth sinking deep in his skin as they bite, as they rip him apart. They leave nothing but his bones behind.

There’s no real pain, he realizes, and the pride in your face is enough to convince him he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

The fire roars, and the flames grow, eating all the trees away, eating the dark sky until there’s nothing but yellow light all around. It’s warm, and he feels at home, especially now that he can focus only on you.

A moment later, he’s himself again, bones and skin, and very much bare, but he’s not in the forest anymore. 

Everything is bright, and it feels like he should be melting, but the warmth it’s welcoming, comforting. A man is smiling at everyone, all the seven people around and at the two of you. He’s wearing a beautiful suit, slicked back blonde hair, and Simon swears he has a brooch with horns right above his heart.

“Welcome.”

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

im so sorry it took me so long. writing isn’t coming easy to me at all since last month but i got inspired again because of this! I had a lot of fun writing it, and the song is amazing so thank you. also, i promise i tried to keep it close to the actual mv, but i ended up taking inspiration from some of the scenes and the concept instead of the actual mv. I hope you didn't mind sm 🙏🏻

buy me a coffee

tags: @kittygonap @silas-aeiou

[freuleinanna]

Right, so I'm hearing a lot of negativity toward changing Abby's physique in the series, and while I understand where it's coming from, I think it should be explored further?? For the sake of this post, I won't praise neither version, game nor tv, but literally, every change makes sense imo because one drags another forward

So, first, let's rewind. It's pretty obvious at this point, where season 2 is going to end, right? So. By that point in the original narrative, we know literally NOTHING of Abby. The game wears us out, allows us to bombard our personal grief and pain out of our chest, and comes to a more mellow point, where we're exhausted emotionally. And with that, slightly more open toward learning something new. And then we learn A WHOLE FUCKING LOT about Abby.

BUT. This narrative only works if we don't have to wait 2 years to see her story. With the TV series, they have to keep thinking about the new-watchers, and how to hook them in for season 3.

So it makes sense to reveal the least important thing about Abby, the one we also learn first while playing the game: her motivation. So we have to see her. And we have to be at least teensy bit interested when she comes back. But again, her motivation is the least important thing about her, her story unravels in a different way, and it's brilliant. So I'll let it be, okay.

Then! We see her, and the actress, while having gravity of presense, is not the muscled killing machine. BECAUSE WE ARE GIVEN ABBY'S MOTIVATION, WE LOSE THE 100% NECESSITY FOR HER TO LOOK EXTRA FORMIDABLE. She is a monster that comes from nowhere and leaves for nowhere – in the game. Here, we know she's been obsessed with Joel ever since the hospital, but the drive behind creating a scary, animalistic figure that makes you shit your pants with her sheer force, is lost. Instead, another representation is found, which plays nicely into the new visual.

Abby's obsession is that of mind. Where game Abby was mostly pushing it aside in favor of building physique, TV Abby is overanalyzing every single deranged bit of her trauma. She remembers, word for word, how Joel was described. She doesn't think he's handsome, but that's how the monster, who came from nowhere and left for nowhere after raging massacre on her world, was described. And it gets to her. Claws at her. Hooks her. She is conscious within her own dreams. Game Abby was following the corridor into the unknown. Tv Abby knows full well what's there, and still can't stop herself from doing it.

She's obsessed in a way more unhealthy manner than her game counterpart, I think.

And! It plays really fucking well into the discourse of "OH SHE COULDN'T HAVE BROKEN THE CLUB SHE'S NOT EVEN BUFF". No, she's not. It makes her even more dangerous/scary.

Because can you imagine what kind of horrors she is on the inside, when this twiglet of a woman BREAKS THE FUCKING GOLF CLUB, AND THEN CONTINUES BEATING JOEL WITH HER BARE HANDS, SCREAMING?

Can you imagine the sheer force required from a person to break a golf club? With game Abby, it wouldn't have been unexpected. She is, after all, really strong. But TV Abby? Can you imagine how tortured and burned and fueled she is by her emotions, that it makes her do that?

So it all comes well together. Little derangements. Obsessions. She scares you not because she's merciless and you have no idea who she is, but because (and that's what you're only supposed to learn after the first part of the game) you get a glimpse of what state she's in, and it's terrifying. And Kaitlyn Dever has done a bloody murderous job portraying that.

So, in conclusion, I guess my take is this: Abby Anderson is still the same character you love. All of her drive remains. However, the game being split into 2 seasons required certain narrative changes, and that caused presentation restructurization, and that altered how the characters needed to be perceived and built.

Underneath, though, it's definitely Abby. Why don't you love her? Everything about TV Abby already falls brilliantly into place, just like it did with game Abby. If you look an inch deeper, it's obvious. I don't fucking know what else people need.

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

CHAPTER 1: GIVE ME BACK MY PLUSHIE

WC: 2704

mira

he's late. even to his own break up. this is so embarrassing.

my mocha. ive been in this cafe too long, the dent in my seat starting to feel deeper. even though the doors are closed, the cold winter air keeps seeping in and the wind keeps rattling the windows. i dont even want to be outside right now.

i would have met up with him at my apartment, but i didnt want to give him a chance to talk my head all crazy. i thought about this long enough. I WONT let him talk me out of it. fuck jung wooyoung, honestly.

i stare into my mocha pathetically. if he wont show up, i'll just cry into this cup. and he'll probably send me a lame text about how he got caught up in traffic or work and just make me regret ever meeting him again.

my heart burns thinking about it. all the time wasted. nine months. it wasnt that long but i only ever dated people i really liked. even when i just date, when its over, i feel like im getting divorced. its just so...dramatic.

its going in for an hour now. i guess "we need to talk" wasnt urgent enough. maybe i should have said "im dying" and sent the address, but i dont even know if he would have been on time for that.

its simple, really. today is the day that i dump wooyoung. and its not because i want to. its just gotten to that point.

the cafe door swings open abruptly with a harsh ding of the bell. wooyoung barges in with his long black coat and grey beanie, looking around the place frantically, his eyes zeroing in on me when he finds me in the furthest booth away. somehow his walk over is slow, kind of shameless even though hes just wasting more of my time. theres a conflicted look on his face.

"hey, cupcake," he greets me with a smile that doesnt reach his eyes and slides into the booth. "sorry im late i–"

i just wave my hand to show that i dont care. "just listen," i tell him, not wanting to hear all that.

he frowns. "somethings wrong."

i feign a smile. "well arent you observant. anyway, i cant do this anymore. i'd like if we never saw each other again." i bend down to pick up a plastic bag full of all of his things and put it on the table. "this is all your clothes and jewelry that you left behind at my apartment."

"what?" woo gasps. "youre breaking up with me? why?"

i cock my head at him. "surely you're not asking me that. isnt it obvious?"

"no, this is coming out of nowhere!"

men.

"you don't respect my time, wooyoung," i say with a shrug. suddenly im the best performer ever. i cried while practicing my speech and now that he was infront of me, it was just coming out like any other debate. "i dont think i fit in your life anymore. your priorities dont include me so i'll do myself that favour and just phase out of existence."

"sweetheart, i was late like five times," he says in disbelief. "and you know why all of those times, you cant possibly think i dont respect your time. you know how busy i am."

he says five times like its so little. i dont actually know why hes so busy. he always attributes it to work but i dont even know what the fuck hes doing over there. maybe i tuned it out every single time because i was just excited to see him. but right now, i really didnt care.

"you missed my grandmother's funeral, woo," i say emptily. "you know how badly i needed you there."

"i stayed with you after, didnt i?" he asks me, his tone getting angrier. "cmon, i was with you the whole night!"

"right, and my grief just disappeared by morning."

"i told you im really busy at wo–"

"wooyoung, im a fucking law student and doing an internship for the UN, i GUARANTEE you're not more busy than me!" i finally snap.

he looks at me with fired up eyes. "so what, you're the only one allowed to be busy?"

his tone makes my calmness wither like a bone in the desert. "no, im the only one clearly MAKING TIME. i dont fucking care what your reason is. i got a B in my Advanced Criminal Procedure exam, im not going to let this eat me up and make my grades worse. so sorry, im not breaking my back to see you anymore."

he clenches his jaw, looking down at his hands. i dont know why hes fighting it. i thought he'd jump to be rid of me because of how clingy i was getting.

"so all this time together...just meant nothing," he scoffs. "its so easy for you to throw it away."

wooyoung was only my third boyfriend. which isnt a lot, but ive heard that line many a lifetime. i just sit there and stare at him.

"why couldnt we talk about this back at your apartment?" he questions me. i knew he would.

the fact that i wanted to do this many times, but everytime i couldnt even get the words out because wooyoung, against my better judgment, would seduce me out of it till i forgot i even wanted to break up with him. then he'd be the perfect boyfriend for like 2 weeks before he just went back to his bullshit again.

"because you wouldnt give me the chance," i tell him firmly. "and you know it."

"damn straight," he looks at me with an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. "and thats too bad. because you forgot chopper."

i frown, opening the plastic bag myself. fucking hell, hes right. i forgot his stupid tony chopper plushie that took up half the space on my bed.

"i can mail it to you," i say with a shrug.

"not happening," wooyoung says and stands up. "cmon, i'll drive us."

"woo, no–"

"im not letting you give chopper away to whatever university frat boy scum comes after me."

i look at him incredulously. i dont even get the chance to object. he throws money on the table for my bill and picks up the plastic bag with his clothes, then walks away carrying my bag to his car.

oh my god, i cant stand him.

***

the silence on the road is more mine than his. hes loud in his actions, looking back on the road for any other cars, sighing and rubbing his head like the world is on his shoulders, turning to look at me like its all my fault.

and here i am, and i dont know what i feel.

i cant say he was always a shit boyfriend. even when he wasnt there, he sort of...was? he made up every bad thing with something even better. but i cant look past time lost. time is all we have.

i remember when we met. and it felt like we had all the time in the world.

i was late to a practical, and he rearended me in the street. it completely fucked up my day. i got out of my car ready to fight and tell him off like the asshole he was, but when i saw him for the first time, its like i forgot my words.

"you fucking rear ended me," i snapped at him. "can you even afford to fix this car?"

"honestly, no. but keep looking at me like that, and i'll find every way in the world to make sure you smile again."

i didnt know what to say when i heard it. his first lines of what i didnt know would be our whole relationship. me pointing a gun and getting disarmed by him immediately. he could never tell what would come out of his mouth next. i always stayed longer than i should have to find out.

until i didnt care to know anymore. i guess in the end, you start thinking about the beginning.

"you're just gonna sit there and say nothing," he suddenly speaks, ripping me out of my inconvenient nostalgia. "i just wanna know...is there someone else."

my irritation spikes immediately. i can barely stand him and he thinks i'd rebound another man.

"i should ask you that, actually," i smile pettily. "working late all the time, seeing me at odd hours. finding me at strange places. you're the one who was moving weird, not fucking me."

he brakes the car on a dark road, making me jump. he turns his whole body and leans into me, giving me a bewildered look.

"you think i'd ever do that to you?" he says, shaking his head. "i gave you all of my one piece merch even after i know you havent caught up with the manga. my parents only call me to ask about you. my fucking wall is full of pictures of you. my life revolves around you, and you think i'd do that to you?"

i feel tears pressing behind my eyes, but i blink them away quickly, clearing my throat and looking away from his intense gaze.

"you did all of that, but you couldnt do the one thing i wanted from you. which was be there."

"do you think i wouldnt be there if i had a choice?"

his question hangs in the air. and i feel my throat getting thicker.

"i dont know, wooyoung. i think this has just been a lot. we dont know each other anymore. please just drive."

he scoffs again, adjusting the gear too hard. "utter bullshit. i didnt know you were the type to give up so easily."

i clench my fist. he knows i hate when he challenges me. hes just doing this to make it feel like one. that was our whole relationship. a challenge that felt good until it didnt.

wooyoung was so carefree and managed to do everything he wanted, despite real life responsibilities. it made me jealous. outside of my work, i struggled to keep friends, and having wooyoung felt like an accomplishment. it felt like there was so much i learnt from him. we were like sponges, taking everything from each other. but if his interest is gone, then i dont wanna waste my time giving anymore.

i lay my head against the window to sleep till we get home, praying he wouldnt drive shit this time around. he wakes me when we're out front, and getting my keys and unlocking the door feels like the biggest challenge in the world.

it immediately starts pouring from the sky. the rain sounds like hail. i wonder if he'll be able to drive home like this, he can barely see when its clear out. when we get into the apartment i slip off my trenchcoat and its taken from me before im even able to put it on the rack.

i turn around, seeing wooyoung putting it on the rack.

"thanks," i mutter. he doesnt say anything back.

i feel like my head is swimming. he needs to leave now.

i immediately rush off into my room, seeing the chopper plushie leaning off the bed. i meant to pack him in.

while im getting him, my eyes betray me and find all our polaroids on my nightstand.  the zoro figurine he gave me holding my stationary.

wooyoung flicks on the lamp, making me jump. i sweep my hair out of my neck, suddenly feeling nervous.

im not used to him being quiet. hes always loud, present. hard to miss.

"you're not wearing the necklace i got you," i hear him say. hes disappointed.

"it didnt match my outfit," i answer him without turning around. why am i still explaining myself?

"it goes perfectly with your earrings, actually," he tells me. hes leaned against my door frame, just watching. im frozen, chopper warming my skin against my will, indirectly comforting me. i wish i could actually keep him.

one memory wouldnt hurt, right?

wooyoung suddenly walks to my drawer, opening it and pulling my necklace out. its gold with a tear-shaped emerald pendant, because green's my favourite colour. he plants himself infront of me, putting it on for me. its slow, and agonizing. i should have known he wouldnt go out easy.

i make the mistake of looking up at him. and hes already looking at me.

his eyes are dark and telling. hes not going to make this easy. im holding my breath.

"dont do this, sweetheart," he says in a low voice. his hand cups the side of my neck, and he has the nerve to rub it tenderly. his skin is warm. "you're so cold."

his lips drift closer to mine, the space between us forming a dimension on its own. his breath is about to be shared with mine until i realize what hes doing. he kisses me before i can pull away, and once he does, its like im swallowed all over again. chopper falls out of my hands.

he doesnt just kiss me. he absorbs me. his lips are harsh and demanding–even desperate. hes taking again. im almost leaned over into the bed when his arm comes around my waist, the only thing holding me from folding over. i cant do this again. it always ends like this.

i put my hand against his chest, pushing him back. its like he wont let go of my lips. "dont start, wooyoung," i say breathlessly. "you always do this."

"you still want me," he says, not even listening to me. "you're still mine."

"shut up!" i say frustratedly. i elbow him and bend down to pick chopper up. "get the fuck out. im keeping this. you dont deserve him."

"no," he says stubbornly, holding out his hand. "give me back my plushie."

the anger rises to my head and i toss the thing at his head. "give me back my fucking nine months!"

"it was ten," he corrects me, forcing a smile.

"no it wasnt."

"im counting since the day i met you."

i look at him incredulously.

"you havent said sorry even once," i explode. "for any of the inconveniences, for being late. you fucking late TODAY. and i still dont get an explanation, what do you take me for?"

"its shit you wouldnt care about!" he says back with the same tone, like HE has something to be angry about. "im here now, mira. im sorry, i really am. i didnt realize how bad its gotten. but i'll try harder, i promise. havent i always made it up to you?"

"i dont want you to make it up to me, i want you to GET IT RIGHT. listen to me, listen to what im telling you."

"FINE THEN I WILL," he snaps. "i'll get it right. we can break up, but we're getting back together. because im not a quitter. this is just a phase, and it'll pass. i'll suffocate you like a fungus, i'll figure this shit out, i promise. and you know i dont break my promises."

now he's promising. why couldnt he do that before.

"im supposed to believe that now?" i scoff. "you're suddenly going to be perfect NOW? why does it have to get this bad before you realize how much you're fucking up."

he frowns and wipes his face in frustration. "i thought i had time to fix my shit. i didnt realize i was on a timer."

i look at him, not even knowing what to say. thats his fucking problem. he doesnt think hard enough.

"you're suffocating me," i admit, my chest feeling heavy. "everything youre doing now, its just...i just think you should go."

"but we can figure this out right?" he almost begs. "im sorry, cupcake. i really am. i hate seeing you like this."

"wooyoung, just go, please."

he picks chopper up, resigning. i wipe my tears fast so he doesnt see them, speedwalking to the door so i can let him out before i make any more mistakes. but when i go to open the door, it doesnt budge.

"what the fuck," i grunt and pull on it. wooyung comes up behind me, and i move out of the way so he can open it. but even then, it only rattles.

he goes to the window and sighs.

"its snowing outside."

"what?"

i check for myself. my cars tyres are almost halfway sunken into a white blanket, and i realize the door has to have been frozen shut. the rain pours harder by the second.

just my fucking luck.

he turns to me and i can tell he wants to be smug. hes just barely choking it down. "i guess you're stuck with me."

NEXT CHAPTER

***

A/N: pleaaase dm me if you want to be part of the taglist thank you love you lovelies <3

[razorblade180-heated]

Experience

Stelle:*walks into room* Hello, harlot.

Caelus:Wow that’s crazy. You act like you haven’t slept with people. Multiple in fact.

Stelle:Your number is higher. Six people is crazy.

Caelus:Hold on, those numbers aren’t fair. I didn’t plan to sleep with Dan Heng or March. March planned to sleep with me and Dan Heng!

Stelle:Multiple times?

Caelus:Proximity attraction is a real thing. You know this! You’re one of five.

Stelle:Who aren’t you counting?

Caelus:Sparkle, and you that’s valid.

Stelle:So you say. In my eyes it’s six to four.

Caelus:Five people. You have one less than me.

Stelle:No, it’s four. I would know.

Caelus:Me.

Stelle:Okay.

Caelus:Tingyun and Firefly.

Stelle:That’s three, and the last is Aventurine. Don’t bring that up near Topaz though. I think she might be mildly upset.

Caelus:Don’t bring up Sparkle around Sunday.

Stelle:Wait is he- noooo. *eyes widen* Is that why I saw him exit the same room twice one time!?

Caelus:Your list isn’t done.

Stelle:Who the heck do you think I’ve slept with?

Caelus:Gepard.

Stelle:….Who snitched?

Caelus:Ah ha!

Stelle:It was one time a long time ago. It just sorta happened! Doesn’t count.

Caelus:So Sparkle doesn’t count either!

Stelle:…You’re still up by one.

Caelus:I’m not denying that. I’m just not gonna be called a harlot by you.

Stelle: Fine, you win this round. *crosses arms*

Caelus:….

Stelle:What?

Caelus:Who would you say was the best?

Stelle:Seriously?

Caelus:You already hurt my feelings. Might as well deal me the final blow.

Stelle:Pfft, you’re so dramatic. If I really had to pick…it’s Tingyun.

Caelus:Understandable. The wrong answer was Aventurine.

Stelle:Oh my god.

Caelus:What!? He’s so good at everything! It’s kinda dumb.

Stelle:*red* Well…you’re still the most memorable; also the most often. So no more pouting.

Caelus:I wouldn’t have been surprised if you chucked me at the bottom to be petty.

Stelle:It’s not like I could make a ranking list!

She lied as easily as she breathed. Given five minutes, Stelle could probably make a list.

Stelle:Soooo who’s your best experience.

Caelus:I’d rather not say.

Stelle:If it’s Sparkle she goes back on the list!

Caelus:No, it’s not her!

Stelle:Well you’ve already proven it’s not me. Just say March and get it over with.

Caelus:It’s actually Silver Wolf.

Stelle&March: What!?

Stelle:*looks at door* Wait…

March:*walks right in* I’m lost to a Stelleron Hunter!?

Caelus:So you were just being nosy?

March:Always am. It’s the essence of Trailblazing.

Stelle:Ummm so about what you heard earlier-

March:Stelle, it’s obvious you two have a thing going on. I’m not blind. Also Dan Heng may have clued me in but not the point! It’s not really my business so I respect your space!

Caelus&Stelle: You were just eavesdropping.

March:Focus! Silver Wolf!? I can understand Stelle, and maybe even Firefly if I’m being generous, but Silver Wolf!? I like to think the two of us have had some pretty great moments.

Stelle:I knew it wasn’t me. I know my faults. Could’ve bet money on March though given her vast wealth of experience.

March:Hey. I don’t think I like “vast wealth” being used here. Unlike the two of you, I don’t need a full hand to count my partners. Just two fingers.

Stelle:Yeah but the frequency is easily on both hands. Sometimes at once, that’s like double the experience.

March:Not how that works!

Caelus:I mean it’s not like having one or two better moments with someone negates the others. I also don’t think much about it in comparison.

He lied as easily as he breathed. Given five minutes, he could probably make a ranking list.

March:I’m stunned is all. I like to think I’m no slouch. I do my best! What makes her different?

Caelus:She’s objectively lighter so I don’t get tired as quickly.

Stelle&March:…

Caelus:Okay, so that was the wrong answer. That’s my bad. I did say objectively.

March:You really think that helps?

Stelle:Helped me a little if I’m being honest. Although you’re clearly avoiding something. Out with it for March’s sake. You know she’s not gonna leave otherwise.

Caelus:*red* Well…I guess if there’s one thing she has over everyone…

xxxxxxx

Silver Wolf:*playing frogger*

knock knock knock

Silver Wolf:It’s open.

Firefly:*walks in* Hey. Blade and Kafka came back. They brought some type of treat even Blade likes. *holds skewers* Hehe, they’re a little too flavorful for me though. Can you take one off my hands.

Silver Wolf:Wow. Beats your sweet tooth and Blade likes it. Will wonders never cease. *takes one* What flavor?

Firefly:Berry. The sauce is actually a little tart and a little tough so be-

Without much thought or looking away from the screen, Silver Wolf puts well more than half of the skewer in her mouth before closing it to slide the actual food off the stick. A couple of bites and it was already done here throat.

Silver Wolf:Oh wow, that is pretty good.

Firefly:H-How did you do that?

Silver Wolf:Do what?

Firefly:Swallow it all! Easily at that!

Silver Wolf:What, like it was supposed to be hard?

Firefly:…

Silver Wolf:Can I have another?

[frankenjoly]

road to a surprise

for @shinsoukoku-week's atsushi's birthday celebration: surprise party (ft. sskk + the ada)

i

“This is getting ridiculous.” Atsushi said, trying to change his walking course and comically failing when a Rashômon tendril circled his waist. Sure, he could try to break free using his own ability, but that would be too much. He didn’t want to start arguing, less of all with his boyfriend, less of all on his own birthday. Besides since there was a blindfold covering his eyes, said boyfriend was the main reason Atsushi hadn’t tripped during their walk yet.

(Sure, the tiger senses were useful for moving around without seeing, but he had yet to get used to doing so comfortably. Not to mention how neither smell nor hearing would help when it came to changes on the ground under his feet.

And he was enjoying the closeness, obviously.)

“What is getting ridiculous?” Akutagawa replied, and if the topic were less obvious he might have bought in the feigned innocence of his tone.

“We’ve been moving in circles for at least five minutes, maybe more.”

“This was by no means part of the plan, I can at least tell you this much.” Because, of course, Akutagawa had been adamant in not spilling any single detail of whatever surprise was coming. Legit; Atsushi hadn’t questioned anything until that point, for it didn’t take a genius to realize he was stalling.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t mind, though. But they had supposedly gone out for breakfast, which meant he was incredibly hungry, which consequently also meant his patience was being affected.

“Can’t you at least add why is this happening, please?” There was probably no need to use his best pleading kitten attitude, but he tried anyway.

“I can,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi could sense the ‘but’ already. “When we get there, though.” He opened his mouth to protest, but was instantly appeased by what came next. “It will be soon, since I don’t need to buy time anymore.” 

ii

Atsushi had already recognized the Agency’s office, proving how he could walk that path even with his eyes closed (or covered, like right then), when the blindfold was removed from his face.

And laughter quickly escaped from his throat after taking in the scene receiving both him and Akutagawa.

That wasn’t his first birthday with the Agency, so strictly speaking seeing it all decorated for his birthday wasn’t exactly a surprise. Still, that didn’t mean he wasn’t overcome with joy by such a sight; quite the opposite, actually. Not only that, but a smile appeared on Atsushi’s face and he also managed to get teary-eyed.

“Sorry for taking a bit more than expected, by the way.” Sigma said, leaving a plate of pancakes over the main set of tables, joining tons of more food. “We almost lost the cake in the process of bringing it up here.”

“It’s Dazai’s fault, by the way!” Lucy quickly added, making Kunikida sigh and Yosano snort. Meanwhile, Atsushi…

“Cake?” He would be more than happy to listen and laugh to the shenanigans happening during the set-up, but that would be easier to do with some food inside his stomach; holding onto Akutagwa’s hand as if he might go away otherwise, Atsushi lost no time in approaching the tables.

(also on ao3.)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Whispering Flower (Easter Ending 3) (Bassie x Reader)

Kinda disappointed bassie wasn't last because that'd be a little funny/j/lh

Notes: gn toon reader, potential ooc, bassie is eager and leans into the games general expectations, you both have a serious talk, pre game, jealous bassie, she kind of... is going through it a little- definitely starting to feel the pressure of being a main and thats bleeding into other parts of her life, it gets messy, there is a happy ending here... kinda. you guys do talk it out, cocoa next ending i just cant say when shes going to be posted

Word Count: 2.7k

CWs: i dont think there needs to be one? but theres a slight description of bassie have a small breakdown

You push your hand in deeper… and all eyes are on you…

Your fingers wrap around something, and you pull out…

Something soft- almost delicate. Your fingers retract almost instantly out of fear that whatever it was, you’d crush it in your hold. How it hadn’t already been flattened into a crumbled mass in the bag was a mystery- and quite frankly you were almost a little impressed. After a second or two standing under the expectant gazes of everyone’s eyes you push your hand back forward and carefully wrap your fingers around whatever it was… and almost agonizingly slowly you draw out whatever it was.

Two flowers, dried and preserved. Connected at the stem… you almost felt a twinge of annoyance that someone would put something so delicate into a bag- though you were sure it was far from the worst item choice inside the sack. The chance to scrape your brain for any idea of who could have been the one to put the item in is taken from you as a split second squeal suddenly silences itself. A moment later Bassie, now sheepish, shuffled to your side to mumble something about it being hers. 

Despite the light embarrassment for her obvious display of the eagerness of being chosen- even by coincidence- her eyes still held some glimmer of… well, being picked. Bassie lightly pushed Cocoa- who still had her paw resting comfortingly on your shoulder- to the side. 

Dandy stood quietly and watched the entire near wordless exchange before he recovered enough to clear his throat. 

“Right! Bassie! Bassie and Dewdrop, I’m sure you both know how the game is supposed to go- to the gift shop with you!” Dandy turned to Vee, and fluttered his eyes. The television scoffed, before repeating the importance of getting a move on… she didn’t seem like she was going to wait for much longer to start the time. Bassie looked like she wanted to hold your hand… but settled on holding her own- clasping them together in front of her as you both shuffled out of everyone’s sights. Down the hall, to the right… into the gifthop- and through the open staff door. The smell of flowers from the gift shop was almost nauseating as you shut the door; sealing the scent away from you for the time being. 

Bassie stood not too far away, shuffling her feet together quietly… she didn’t take a space against the wall or on the floor. Instead, she just stood there with nothing to lean her body against. You weren’t sure you blamed her entirely… the storage room looked like it hadn’t gotten a proper cleaning in a long long time… dust caked the floor and the walls didn’t look much better. Tracks carved themselves from the entrance and the second door- you didn’t even notice that there was a third door until you brushed against the cold metal handles of it. Double doors… where they lead… you had no theory. 

One of Bassie’s hands rises to her right handle and readjusts it. 

In the darkness you could tell that her flowers were… different. You swear they were different colors earlier today- there were more pink flowers earlier… they were still there, but light blue ones had joined the pink and purple petals piled into her head. 

You point to your head almost awkwardly. “Did you change your flowers?”

Bassie’s fiddling hand froze mid shift and remained hooked around her handle. Her fingers pinched the woven material gently, before running the skin over the… what were baskets made of, exactly? 

The catlike smile she usually kept on her face shifted slightly, parting barely as her first attempt to respond failed her. “I did-! I did!” She finally managed to get out, her words chirping in a higher note… forced, but there was an undertone of genuine joy in her voice. 

You only nod in response… before realizing it made you come off as disinterested… and in the face of her happiness it made you feel a little bit like a jerk. “It looks nice… something different- fresh, you know?” Your hands swung awkwardly at your sides as you looked around the storage room. So… so much merch of toons- mostly the mains… all of the Easter toons were here, though… as well as some off colored plushies of some non-holiday toons. “Skins” in a weird way… even if some of them… were a little ugly. You decided it was best Looey didn’t know what they did to his likeness… assuming he didn’t come into the room later for his turn. If he got one. 

“I’m really glad you picked me- I know it's only a coincidence, but,” Bassie caught your attention again as she broke through the pause of silence. Her eyes lowered to the floor as her feet shifted around in the dust and disturbed it… the grey matter sticking to her green stocking and staining them a faded color, clumps of it sticking to the faint fuzz. You swear you saw some shedded strands of hair in the mess. The effort it took to keep your face straight and to pry your eyes off of the… not very pleasant sight… it’s not like it was her fault- in hindsight you both probably should have stuck in the gift shop itself. 

“I’m glad?” 

You couldn’t keep the confusion out of your voice as you tried to look anywhere but her stockings. The stacks of plushies looming over you suddenly felt intimidating as they stared down at you with the same intensity of the stare you were under in the lobby- albeit this time it was all lifeless. You never noticed how much Pebble stared until you saw the emphasized bulging eyes of his plush. The back of your would be neck burned under the false stare as you continued to find somewhere to look- but each attempt forced your stare back into motion. The current task preoccupied your mind enough to hide the fact that Bassie had shuffled even closer to you- her hands still clasped in front of her- her own quickened breathing undetected to you until your eyes finally landed on her face- mere inches away. 

“Woah- woah woah woah hey-!” You sputtered as you backed up a foot or two. In an instant Bassie began to backtrack. 

“Sorry- sorry- I just thought-” Her hands flung to her mouth and covered it. “-I just thought that– with the game, you’d…” Her eyes snapped to the floor where your gaze once settled itself on. Your mouth stretched in a slanted line, your mind still reeling from the sudden turn of events.

She wasn’t… wrong. 

The implications of the game were clear, even to you if this was your first time playing… but that didn’t shake the feeling of shock. Now you were shuffling your feet around as you racked your brain for any idea of how to make the situation just a little less awkward. Your mouth felt dry and you were fighting the urge to start coughing as dust clung to the back of your throat- no doubt going into a coughing fit would make things even worse… it certainly didn’t help that you were pretty sure Bassie was absolutely covered in pollen and that was starting to have an effect on you… how cruel it was for God to give you seasonal allergies, and to stick you in a room with a beacon of nature’s means of reproduction. 

“It’s nothing against you- I mean I don’t… you kind of just swooped in, you know? Take a toon out for dinner at least,” You added the joke last minute in an attempt to try to soften the blow of rejection. It's not that you… disliked Bassie… and truth be told if she had asked or given some form of warning you may have leaned into her idea of what to do for the seven minutes. 

“How come you and Cocoa are so… close.. All of a sudden?” She suddenly spoke up. 

The sudden mention of the rabbit caught you completely off guard, more than her advancement a moment ago… and maybe you were wrong but you thought you saw a twinge of jealousy in her eyes as her stare sharpened against the floor. 

A soft huh pushed her to keep going. 

“You never used to let her hang on to you like that- or maybe I’m misremembering?” 

You scrunched your face. What was she… and then you remembered- the paw Cocoa had settled on your shoulder to keep you steady, and the paw that remained as you gathered with everyone else for the game. You didn’t think anyone would notice- and you had tuned out the feel of Cocoa’s hold on you. 

“Oh- that,” You made a weird humming sound. 

It was… weird to bring up Cocoa in specific, you weren’t going to lie. You’ve been close to other toons before in front of Bassie, but… it seemed there was a line that you unknowingly crossed. 

The hostility in the basket’s voice was unmistakable as she dedicated herself to silently stewing in front of you. 

“She was just making sure I didn’t bump into anyone else- you should’ve seen it, hit her and Flyte- she was just worried is all-” 

And she huffed at you.

Your face dropped it’s confused look and morphed into a frown, while Bassie’s turned into a barely contained scowl. 

“Of course she’d jump on the chance to…” She trailed off through clenched teeth as she finally brought her hot gaze up to you… the hostility in them you weren’t sure was aimed at you or the other holiday toon down the hall. Maybe both. She looked at you like you had somehow betrayed her. You did your best to stand your ground under her glare. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, I think it’s sweet that she-” 

“I could have done that, why didn’t you ask me?” She cut you off. You fall quiet. 

This was nothing like the quiet wallflowery toon you had gotten used to being around. There was a certain resentment in her stance that could be seen from a mile away. 

Passing glares shot to the rabbit and the way she fell silent the moment Cocoa had started to speak suddenly became obvious as you rapidly combed through your memories in a desperate search for something to say to calm the toon down. 

“Do you… not like Cocoa?” 

“Yes!” She blurted out. “No!.. No I-” she backtracked for the second time and took a hissing breath through her clenched teeth. 

“I don’t.” She finally drew out as she stepped away from her spot in the middle of the room and leaned against one of the walls- before letting herself slump down into the dust… you don’t immediately say anything as Bassie pulled her knees to her chest and wilted into herself. 

“Everyone fawns over her- followers her lead… that’s supposed to be my job,” She mumbled under her breath as the fire in her rapidly died into something mushy and sopping wet. There was still a hot storm of emotion swirling in her black eyes as her fingers dug into her knees.

You let her statement hang in the air. 

It was a lot to unpack. How could you even start to unpack it? As far as you were concerned the pair were friends- at least that’s how Cocoa made it seem whenever she talked about Bassie… and you had always assumed Bassie was… being herself… when she clammed up around the rabbit. 

A soft sigh escaped your throat as you followed the main to her sitting spot and settled yourself next to her with plenty of space between the two of you. 

“Have you… talked to her about it?” 

Bassie’s fingers sunk deeper into her legs before they forced themselves away to find themselves lightly tugging on her handles. Some hesitation… and you reach your hand to place over hers to stop the yanking. 

“What is there to talk about-” 

Her hands were so tense under yours as they twitched and scraped at the weaved patterns all over her head. At least your touch made the yanking stop. 

“She should know that it's my job- its what I was made for- I’m the one plastered everywhere not her.” 

You frowned. 

This was. Far above your paygrade- and you weren’t being paid at all. Playing therapist for someone in a dark closet was the last thing you thought you were going to be doing tonight. 

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean to step on your toes?” You pulled your hand away and let your sweaty palm rest on the floor. You’d clean later. 

“I mean… it’s… Cocoa… I’m sure if you told her she would underst-”

“You wouldn’t get it, you’re just a.. You’re not a main toon like me- you’re not put under the same standards like I am.” She cut over you again before taking a deep breath. Once more her hands shifted around; one of her hands finds themselves to one of her flowers- which had been slightly jostled out of its secure spot in her basket and hung limply over the edge. The blue petal is pinched between her fingers… and it barely keeps itself attached to the rest of the flower as she rubbed the petal. 

She did have a point. Even if her tone was sharp and her breathing was rapid and shallow. 

You weren’t a main, and you’d probably never know just how much pressure they’re put under. The best you could say was that you saw how the staff held higher expectations for them and they were more likely to be swamped by visitors- but the true extent? 

“Well-”

The door swings open as Dandy announces time was up. In an instant Bassie started to try to regain herself. The flower toon stood in the doorway awkwardly for a few seconds as he surveyed the mess in front of him. 

Horribly he almost looked faintly pleased that the two of you weren’t having that good of a time. 

“Uhm… time’s up..!” He repeated before shuffling out of the doorway- the light flooding in now that he wasn’t blocking it out. You shout after him about knocking next time- your discomfort shoved to the side to make way for pure annoyance. Bassie wasted no time in standing to her feet- and with a half hearted attempt to get the mess off of her she beelined quickly for the door. 

“Hey-” You shoved yourself off of the floor and tried to rush after her… for someone so… short… you didn’t expect her to be so fast. You were almost tempted to make a grab for her but your hand froze before it could wrap around her wrist. 

She didn’t stop for you. In less than a second she was in the doorway of the gift shop and making her escape. 

“I want to understand- can you at least-” You tried to keep up with her. 

She at least slowed down enough to let you catch up. 

“I don’t want to say right off the bat that I get what’s going on, or that I have answers- but…” You loop around her side. Her face still obviously looked distressed as she fought hard to make her expression neutral.

“Why don’t we go up to my room for now? At least until you’re feeling better-” 

You had a sick feeling Cocoa would come ask what was wrong the second she noticed Bassie’s state… and you had a sicker feeling that it would make things so much worse. 

Bassie’s hands balled at her sides. 

…and she didn’t verbally answer as another wave of emotion rolled over her. Just another crack in whatever dam she had built up inside her- you didn’t make too much of a fuss over the tears pin pricking her eyes. 

“Come on,” 

And… at least as best as you could, you tried to sneak Bassie to one of the large elevators in the main lobby to bring her to your room… you could only hope that no one noticed you- as their backs turned to the two of you, focused on the current game.