#but i love my books damnit

[goeswiththeflo]

I love that @seananmcguire is basically taking an entire moving box all on her own 😁

[feelo-fick]

it can't be too hard right?

it's easy not to think about things, he tells me i don't think all the time! wait...

—

a scene from a fic that i have no clue if ill finish, let alone post, but look i made fanart of my own thing that doesnt even exist :D

[egophiliac]

CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS

there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head

I don't know why I decided to draw it this way

[thebiffmethod]

i think i’ll never forgive tiktok for oversaturating the howls moving castle market with fans who only give a shit about the romantic undertones of the movie and literally nothin else

[greenteaandtattoos]

There needs to be more novels with dragon POVs instead of them just being the pets/friends/partners of humans

[ectoplasmer]

in the middle of reading the new wind excerpt and god. oh my god. someone sedate me

[kay-emm-gee]

Me, if any harm comes to Yan Mi this season:

[nervocat]

Also rooks pj groovy or whatever I needed I need to bite him SOMETHING

[upsidedowneye]

oh how the turn tables

Unaffected a teaching in humbling oneself

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Dr. Ratio x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Ratio is quite aware of his dashing looks and intellect. If he so wanted, he could use it to his advantage whenever he pleased. That was until he met you, who seemed to be entirely unaffected by it.

Tags: Pining, Crack, unreciprocated feelings towards Ratio, someone give him a clown nose - he's making a fool of himself, written pre-release of character, short one-shot

A/N: L+Ratio to Dr. Ratio himself.

Consider how the renowned Veritas Ratio would act if he had a crush on you.

No doubt, he was aware of his attractive appearance and masterful intellect. Why else would he only teach while wearing that accursed marble head? He's experienced it all too often that people stop paying attention to his teaching because they only get distracted by appearances. While conveying knowledge about science, it was nothing more than a nuisance to him.

He didn't want nor need hordes of students fawn over him. This still hadn't changed.

However, when you started working as his colleague at the same university one day, it was as if he had lost his composure for the first time in forever. Judging by your appearance, the Aeons themselves must have carved and sent you to smite him down. Let alone your wit and intellect. He was gone the minute he had first laid his eyes on you.

He absolutely wanted to get to know you better and make you fall for him how he fell for you when you first graced him with your presence.

There was just one problem - due to the boundaries he had set for himself, you had never seen his face. He never took the marble head off when he was at work. However, he was almost certain that, once he did so, you would fall for him the same way his students always did before he hid his face.

There was no way you wouldn't fall for a man of his caliber.

Self-assured and while putting on the most attractive smile he could muster he decided to take the mask off as casually as possible in front of you one day. He leaned against the wall beside you, eyeing you confidently. He was certain to see the stars of the galaxy sparkling back at him in your eyes. Your jaw would drop and you'd inch closer to him and then-

"You have something stuck between your teeth." You remarked unaffectedly as you motioned him to remove it.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee and sipped from it with an unwavering expression of apathy before lifting your eyebrows at him.

Why were you so unimpressed? Why didn't you fall for him yet? He was here. His handsome face exposed right in front of you in broad daylight. Were you not attracted to men, perhaps? No, that couldn't be. He happened to catch a conversation between you and another coworker about it. But why weren't you worshipping the ground he walked on yet?

"Is something the matter?" You poked quizically, noticing how his smile and his entire attitude and confidence had faltered and crumbled into dust in an instant.

"Huh? I j-just..." He stammered before hurriedly picking the piece of food out from in between his teeth.

This should've worked. His plan was flawless. Why did you not care about his dashing looks at all.

"Nothing." He said curtly, straightening himself up again to regain his composure.

"Alright." You nodded confusedly, forcing a smile and eyeing him as if he was completely insane.

The following weeks looked about the same. He tried to appear in front of you without the mask more and more often. He would try to initiate in talks and scientific discussions with you but you always seemed to end up annoyed by him. It was doing his head in what he could possibly be doing wrong - No. Surely, it wasn't his fault. It couldn't be.

That was until he overheard a conversation between you and another coworker.

"I have never seen him behave like that - let alone see him take his stone head off so often..." The coworker said puzzledly. "But I have to admit he is quite attractive."

"Pff, no way. Not with a character like that. Either way, I have no idea what his deal is." You sighed. "All I know is that he is grinding my gears with his big-headed attitude, ugh."

His heart dropped at your words. He had never heard that someone had perceived him this way.

Him? Big-headed? And you also don't find him attractive?

Maybe a change of plan was in order. Just... what was he doing wrong?

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about HSR or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[codenamehazard]

Does anyone ever want to draw something in a particular style you really like, but when you see it your brain goes "Yeeeeeeah no," yet the urge is still there???

[myvoiddreams]

Fragments of Starlight (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Finally saved, there is nowhere else to turn other than the impending war.

Word Count: 4,666

Warnings: ANGST, violence, torture, dark themes

A/N: First, I am SO sorry that this took me ages to get together. Second, I am SO grateful for all the amazing feedback and sweet messages I’ve received from everyone. This is a hobby of mine that I love and love to share.  Third, please don’t be mad at me after this.

Part 1, Part 2

---

Before

It had been a long night, full of unsettling dreams. Not that that wasn’t normal. A yawn escaped my lips as I rolled over to the morning light peeking through the curtains, the haze of night still lingering on me. Morning, that meant training. Stretching off the daze and the dreams, I sat up in bed and an herbal smell crossed my senses. With furrowed brows I looked to the nightstand next to my bed.

There sat a steaming cup of tea. Tea? Where the hell would that have come from? I reached for it, pulling it from the nightstand. Under the mug was a folded-up parchment. Placing the mug back down, I reached for the note and unfolded it. Azriel’s neat handwriting adored it.

“No training today. Cass and I are off to meet Eris. Drink up in the meantime. – Azriel.”

A smile spread across my face as I sat the note back down and took the mug into my hands. Blowing some steam away, I brought it to my lips. Peppermint. My favorite. My heart fluttered at the hot drink. Azriel must have caught on that it was always peppermint tea I would drink when staying up to finish work, a book, or whatever it may be.

After a few more sips, I set the mug back down on its place on the nightstand. I picked up the parchment once more and flipped it to the empty side and with a pen adorning my nightstand drawer wrote, “Don’t forget to breathe between brooding sessions. Stay safe out there, Az. – Y/N.”

Settling the parchment back onto the nightstand I knew the house would have it delivered for me. By the time I had reached for another sip, the note was gone.

---

The exchanging of notes had become a normal thing for me and Azriel after the first one I found placed on my nightstand. It was sweet really. They went from anywhere about having a good day, to meeting up later, or even just teasing one another. Teasing one another was my favorite.

Azriel, with his slinking shadows, was always sneaking up on me. Whether that be in the training ring, or in the library. So, I had left a note on his desk for him. Trying to get the house to understand that I wanted to deliver this one myself before it could simply just take it from under my fingers. The house had also grown accustomed to mine and Azriel’s note sharing.

Upon his desk in his room, I left a note that read, “If you keep sneaking up on me, I might have to start carrying a bell for you. -  Y/N.”

Satisfied with leaving it on his desk, I left his room and made for my own. I walked down the hallway, and as I was turning the knob to reach my own room, a hand clasped around my shoulder, “A bell won’t help you, but nice try.” Azriel’s voice made me jump out of my skin.

I swirled around and all but smacked his hand off my shoulder out of instinct. He chuckled at my response. His stupidly beautiful smile was something I still found myself grateful for being able to see. His usually stone-cold appearance would fade away when you knew him well enough. When you knew him the way I do.

“Damnit! How the hell are you that quiet and that fast!” I was smiling now, but still flustered with his surprise appearance. I was just in his bedroom after all. A blush crept up my cheeks at the thought.

“I have shadows in my room at all times, they just whispered to me about a certain someone sneaking around there. Then, they told me what your note said. I couldn’t just pass up on the opportunity to tease you a little.” His voice was warm. Azriel was always warm to me. He lifted his hand to my face and brushed some of the hair that had fallen into it from his surprise, behind my ear.

I’m sure my cheeks burnt bright now, at the touch, but I couldn’t help but just smile and shake my head. I pushed him away playfully and turned to my bedroom to enter.

As I entered, I heard his chuckle dancing in the hallway again and my heart felt like it was going to leap out of its chest as I shut my door.

---

Now

The pain that decorated my body was nothing compared to what was soaring through my hands and my heart. After being rescued I was taken directly to a camp where some of Rhys’ armies were. Instead of being put in the infirmary, they put me in a tent of my own, where Madja could tend to me personally.

I had asked Madja to tell the rest of the Inner Circle to leave me be while healing. I wanted to be alone. I wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

Madja was there, unwrapping my hands again. It has been a few days since I was saved, but my hands were not healing at the same rate the rest of me did. At the site of my hands, I became nauseous. Fresh, pink skin was covering the back of them, but the palms. The palms were still blistered. Still sloughing off with old skin and trying their best to cover it with the same granulated tissue of the backs of my hands.

“Listen Y/N,” Madja sighed, “I cannot express to you how important it is for you to keep resting. You need to keep these hands bandaged at all times for the foreseeable future. This war is something you may need to take a step back from. You have been through enough.”

I respect Madja, I respect everything she had to say to me, but there was no way. “I can’t simply sit out Madja. Not after what they did to me.” I said back quietly, not letting my gaze meet her’s.

“I was afraid you would say that,” sighed the older female.

“Madja, can I ask you something, personal?” I winced as she applied a balm to the palms of my hands.

“Let me guess, it has to do with that silly Shadowsinger?” She didn’t look up from what she was doing, but I took the invitation anyways.

“How the hell do I put this behind me? This entire Inner Circle has changed since those Acheron sisters entered it. I want to be able to know my friends, my court, is there for me as I am for them.” The words were getting harder and harder to get out of my mouth, but I ventured on, “They left me there, grabbed Elain, and left me there to die.” Tears started flowing then, “I have known them for centuries, and yet, they still chose her over me.” I was slightly embarrassed at my vulnerability with Madja.

She simply continued to wrap my hands after finishing applying the balm and hummed. She let some silence slip on as she thought of a response.

“Y/N, you are right, you have known them for centuries, and Elain not even a cusping a year. You have to understand that that’s why they left you there. They were under duress, either save her, who does not know how to defend herself, or you, who has proved time and time again you can withstand so much.” Madja looked up into my watery eyes and continued, “They were terrified out of their minds when you were up and missing. Cassian did nothing but blame himself. Azriel sent his shadows to all corners of Prythian searching for you.”

I calmed my crying and was only sniffling now as she went on, “They love you Y/N. Even if their misplaced actions are not great at showing it. They may not deserve it right now but consider finding some forgiveness to show them. They are your family.”

I let her words fumble around my mind as she got up and left the tent. As much I want to forgive, I just couldn’t.

---

Before

I was exhausted, truly exhausted. There was a meeting earlier in the day, about strategizing when it came to getting more information on Hybern. I had offered to become an inside agent. To follow Hybern, become one of his soldiers, and send the information back to the Night Court. Rhysand on the other hand had gawked at my offer, and utterly refused it. He then decided to reprimand me, in front of everyone, on how reckless I had been even suggesting such a thing. It was embarrassing.

My mind had been reeling since. I was no use just sitting around, waiting for shit to hit the fan. I wanted to be helpful, I wanted to do something. I was a warrior to this court, an emissary to Dawn. I was no stupid child, like Rhysand had diminished me to during that meeting.

After a day of sulking and my mind reeling, I needed out of the House of Wind. So, I went to one of my favorite places. It was one Azriel had flown me too once. But, I wanted to be alone. Without him to fly me, I’d have to hike there.

A high hill on the outskirts of the city, where the Sidra had broken off into many little streams and creeks. The hill was plush with fresh beautiful grass and a cool evening breeze made the grass sway. Night had fallen by the time I had made it there, to my favorite spot.

Right on time. I told myself as I laid directly into the grass, looking up into the expanse of stars above. It was here I was usually able to find some solace when my mind would wander. Everyone had their burdens to bear, but this place made it seem a little easier. Everything I loved was slipping away from me, I could feel it. That impending feeling of pure dread.

I tried to push it away as I looked up into the stars.

A few hours had gone by when I heard the beating of wings. I sat up in the grass to see Azriel landing on the same long grass, only a few feet from me. I gave Azriel a half smile as I sat up to meet his eyes.

“I was starting to worry about you.” Azriel sighed, playing with his hair as he walked over to me.

“I just needed to get my mind off everything. I didn’t mean to worry you.” Azriel sat down next to me, our knees touching now. “Remember when you brought me here for the first time?” A smile spread across my face for the first time that day.

“Of course I remember it.” Azriel smiled as he reached to take off his jacket. My brows furrowed as he handed it to me.

“What’s this for?” I took the jacket from him. His comforting smell immediately filled my nose. Cedar and the night mist itself.

“Please, I can see your goosebumps from here.” He chuckled as I looked myself over. I had hiked up here during the warm of the evening, only sporting shorts and a short-sleeved leather top I usually dedicated to training. I hadn’t paid much attention to the cold that had slithered its way to my skin while I was trying to sort out my mind.

“Thank you,” I smiled at Azriel. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he knew me well. I placed the jacket over my own shoulders and placed my gaze on the sky again.

Azriel had joined me, our knees still touching, his wing behind me now. We looked up into the night sky until dawn neared. We didn’t speak, but Azriel’s presence made everything feel lighter somehow.

---

Now

I had made it clear to Madja that I didn’t want any visitors while I was healing. I knew that that would only last so long. I had just finished getting dressed when I heard my tent flap open. Those were not the light steps of Madja. I looked up to see Azriel entering. His wing cramped in the small space.

“Y/N,” his eyes widened at my appearance. While the bandages on my body were covered with clothing, my hands were wrapped out in the open for him to see and my face still held some of the fading bruises. He winced at the sight of my hands.

I looked down, away from him. I went to work on getting my boots on to the best of my capabilities. “I told Madja I wanted no visitors.” I said coldly, still not meeting his eyes.

“It’s been days, I needed to see you. To check on you, myself” Azriel cautiously walked toward me.

I began to fumble with my boots, becoming frustrated at the laces. My healing hands did not have the dexterity they once did, and the bandages were not helping. I began to shake as Azriel’s form got closer. Tears were burning at the back of my eyes. It was evident to both of us that I wasn’t going to get my boots laced up by myself. His stupid, comforting, beautiful scent made its way to me. It was only making me lose whatever composure I was forcing on myself.

“Let me help you,” Azriel all but whispered as he reached to gently grab my hands in his.

My hands.

“Do not touch me.” I breathed out, ripping his closeness away.

He stumbled back, looking shocked. He pulled his wings in closer to himself at my outburst. I could feel him, feel his regret and agony through the bond. Through that annoying, patronizing, tug in the deepest part of my chest.

“Y/N, I care about you, let me help.” His hazel eyes were pleading now. I could almost see a silver rim aligning them. He looked helpless. I hated seeing him this way, it hurt me to know that I was causing such helplessness. But, how could I just let him in? Not after everything.

I all but laughed at his statement, huffing hair out of my face, I met his eyes, “You don’t care about me,” my voice wavered, “you showed me that when you left me there to die.”  I couldn’t help but let my lip quiver.

“Y/N, you have to understand-“ Azriel began to plead, but I would not hear it. I would not silence myself on his account.

“I’ve made my mind up Azriel. If I make it out of this, I’m not going back to the Night Court. I’m leaving.” The statement truly shut him up then. I almost couldn’t believe myself either. But this pain, the pain of knowing I would never be good enough in his eyes. I would never be good enough in the Inner Courts eyes. I had gotten myself taken into Hybern’s clutches, after preaching to Rhysand to let me do more. It was mortifying, I couldn’t even get myself out. I still relied on them even after they left me.

Pathetic.

“You don’t mean that, do you, Y/N?” His face completely fell. His hazel eyes wide, his hair pushed away from his face.

“I do. I can’t stay.” I started to shake my head now, tears finding their way into my face, “You lost me when you left me there. Hell, I fucking lost me in that tent. I lost me.”

“No, Y/N, you haven’t lost anything, please.” Azriel was pleading now, I turned from him. I couldn’t stomach the sight of him on top of his emotions flowing through the bond. “Please, listen to me. I lost it when you were missing. Cassian did too. Even Rhysand.” He took slow steps toward me. “I was ordered into that camp by Rhysand to get Elain, I had no idea that you would be there too.” He swallowed before nervously continuing, “We couldn’t grab you both, it was going to be impossible. I know you, I knew you could handle another day, and then we’d be back to get you, better prepared that time.”

It made sense, really, but it didn’t cut it. “That’s not good enough.” I finally met his eyes again. Mad, this time. “I was strung up. Beaten. Cut up. With no powers whatsoever thanks to their Fae Bane knives. I was dying, and you left me there. So, no Azriel, those words are not good enough.”

He opened his mouth to retort something, but a noise of the tent opening behind him cut him off. Peering over his broad shoulders and wings, Cassian was at the entrance of the tent. He was fully armored, weapons in tow, and concern was etched in all corners of his face.

“I hate to break up the reunion, but we have to go. Now. Hybern is moving in.” Cassian was on edge with his words, unknowing of the conversation that was at hand. I hated that seeing him gave me some ounce of relief as well.

With his words, I grabbed for my weapons. A sword, sheathed at my hip, and my bow and quivers strapped to my back. The set that Az had gifted me all that time ago.

Azriel grabbed my arm as I tried to move past him, “Madja told you to sit this out.” His eyes now were full of passion, his touch was unmoving, but light. At the contact my heart fluttered again. That bond sung between us, but only I could feel it.

I ripped my arm from his touch, no matter how badly I wanted to give into it.

“I’ll see you on the battlefield, Azriel.”

---

Before

Starfall was always one of my favorite times of the year. To just spend time with my family, to share gifts, drinks, and even dances. It had gotten late, the festivities finally winding down, and everyone going to their rooms.

I wanted a final look off the balcony before fully retiring. The present giving and gifting had gone great, everyone enjoying the gifts that had been gifted. I also loved the pieces of jewelry, the books, and even the apron, that Feyre, had gifted me, knowing how much I like to cook.

The midnight blue gown followed my footsteps out. It truly was beautiful. Backless, long, shimmering, Mor had gotten it for me, and of course dolled me up to go along with it. It wasn’t often that I got this way. Only when we had to take trips to the Hewn City or other Court business to attend to. My hair was curled and draped across my back. Light makeup littered my face as well.

I was leaning against the balcony railing when I heard those tall tale footsteps. I knew that if I was hearing them then he would want me to know he was there. I turned around and met Azriel’s gaze. He was stunning. In an all-black suit, but still sporting his blue syphons. I tried to hold back my blush at his appearance.

He walked towards me, a large, wrapped box in hand. I had already given Azriel his gift. I wrapped a leather journal, and a custom-made dagger, with a necklace that had Ramiel engraved on its pendant. He had thanked me, and did not give me one in return.

I guess he is now.

Azriel approached and handed me the large, slim box.

“What is this Az?” I took the wrapped package from him.

“Open it,” he nodded his head to it, “I wanted to give this to you privately.”

I smiled up at him and reached for the wrapping. Carefully, I unwrapped the box. Once completely unwrapped, I opened the box itself. Inside adored the most magnificent bow and quiver I had ever set my eyes on. I lit up at the sight of it.

“Az, this is amazing. Was this made in Dawn?” I took the bow and quiver from inside the box and admired it. Felt them in my hands, the beautifully intricate wooden long bow, with engravings from top to bottom. The quiver made of a light leather material, fashioned with some kind of fur on the strap.

  “Yes, Thesan helped me find it himself.” Azriel put his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish.

“Thesan himself, thank you,” I gathered the bow and quiver and gently set them down. Then, I reached for Az, my arms stretching around his neck. I buried my head into his collarbone. His arms found their way around my waist, and his head on top of mine. “You remember when I first came to Night? Nothing but my old bow strapped to my back?” I smiled into his chest.

“And it broke, on one of our first missions together. You hit that poor male right over the head with it,” he quipped, bringing one of his hands to the back of my head, patting down my hair.

“Thank you, Azriel, thank you.” I told him again. That bow meant so much to me. It reminded me so much of who I used to be.

---

Now

My hands were in no shape to be in a battle. It was nothing like I had ever seen before. Carnage was raining down everywhere. When I wasn’t striking with a sword, I was shooting with my bow. I was going to bring down anyone in my way.

Pain or not.

Sweat was beading down my forehead, and my back. The bandages on my hands were in ribbons, blood staining what remained. My hands made it difficult. I had to adjust to the sloughing skin and ignore what pain I felt jarring up from them to my arms and shoulders.

Rage fueled me as I made my way around the battlefield. Rage for myself not being good enough to save that first night. Rage for my family, who was scattered across the grounds. Rage for falling in love with Azriel. Rage for my unreturned bond screaming in my chest.

Screaming. It was screaming in my chest. A punch to the chest made me stagger back. I grimaced and looked up to my attacker, but no one was there.

Something was wrong. I scanned the skies.

Where are you?

There. Falling.

He was falling from the sky. A scream pierced my throat as the sight. He hit the ground on a hill above the main field being fought in. All my instincts were shouting at me to go to him. The bond was crying at me to go to him. So that’s what I did. Whether I was pissed or not, I could not lose him. Not like this.

I ran, taking out everyone in my way. My body was close to giving in, not fully recovered from my time with Hybern. The pain in my hands continued to radiate through me with every swing of my sword and draw of my bow.

I crested the hill to see Azriel had propped himself up against a tree. His head was lying back, and he gripped the side of his abdomen. I could see the blood from here. A naga was closing in on him.

The bond in my chest thrummed and hurt. It was pain, Azriel’s pain that I was feeling. Panic surged in my bones.

I pulled my bow from my back, skin ripping on my fingers as I drew. I aimed at the fast-moving creature and with a yell released my arrow. I was moving on instinct. No different than hunting for a meal.

It hit its mark. The naga slumped over not more than 10 feet from him.

Ignoring the blood dripping from me, I rushed to him.

He had blood running down his brow. His hair was strewn everywhere. His wings were limp at his sides. Limp. His breathing was ragged. His hazel eyes were shut, pain corroded his face. Even the gold of his skin was damped. I reached for his cheek, feeling his clammy skin. My other hand found his shirt and lifted to see his wound.

It was gaping, there was so much blood. Muscle was torn, ripped open.

“Az, Az, tell me what happened,” I begged him. He only lulled his head further against the tree in response.

The bond, it was fading.

Pure fear burned through me. If that bond was fading, that meant…

I gripped him by his shoulders and shook as hard as I could, “You cannot do this to me! You cannot leave me!” My voice was raw from the hours of battle, my entire being felt like it was being ripped in two.

“Cassian! Rhysand!” I belted at the top of my lungs, praying that someone would hear me over the carnage.

I again reached for his abdomen, placing as much pressure as I possibly could on his wound. He winced in response. Good, that’s good.

“Az, Az listen to me.” The bond was flickering now. “Get up. Get your ass up!” I reached for his end, tugged at it as hard as I possibly could, but I was met with a wall. Terror, true terror overcame me.

The Night Court might have been where I lived, but Azriel was my home. I was losing my home.

There was so much blood. Blood.

That’s when it hit me. I reached for a blade that was fastened to his belt. I didn’t hesitate when I sliced into my arm, deep enough to get good blood flow.

“I’m so sorry Azriel.” I cried as I put my arm to his lips, forcing his mouth open, and the warm sticky liquid into it. “I wish I loved you less,” I sobbed, forcing more into his mouth, “I wish you weren’t my stupid, fucking, mate.”

Saying it out loud, even if he wasn’t in a state to understand, made my heart stand still. Lightheaded, I moved from in front of him. I sat next to him, holding a hand on his abdomen, and a hand on my still bleeding arm.

I couldn’t scream for help anymore, not with the dizziness that clouded me.

So, I sat, holding our bleeding wounds together.

Slowly, I began to feel his end of the bond knit itself back together. Breathing was a little easier when I realized this. He was healing then. It worked.

I looked up from our battered state to see a red blur moving toward us.

Cassian, thank the gods.

He landed on the hilltop and ran to us, taking in our current predicament. Azriel started to stir at the sound of his brother approaching.

Cassian kneeled down, taking my arm in his hand, and staring between Az and I.

“I leave you two alone for an hour and you guys decide it’s a good time to die?!” His voice was rough.

“I don’t know that now is the time to joke around, Cass.” I winced as I sat up toward him. “I’m okay, but Az..”

“Where did all this blood come from?” Cassian said gazing over Azriel’s entire form, panic lacing his voice.

“I saw him fall, when I got to him, he was down, bleeding from his abdomen.” I lifted Az’s shirt to show Cass. The wound had started to close together thanks to his quickened state of healing.

“What about the blood on his face?” Cassian was looking him over for injuries.

My heart hammered. How do I just admit it? Out loud, for anyone to hear this time. It was a fact that I had held so close to myself for so long. I had pinned after Azriel for years now, in silence. I was nothing more than a friend to him, while I fell in love with him.

“Y/N?” He looked over at me again, panic danced around me. “What happened?” His face turned stone cold.

“I.. he’s..” I trailed off, swallowing my fear. I looked into Cassian eyes, more tears somehow finding their way onto mine, “he’s my mate. It was the only way I could save him.” It was almost a whisper as the words left my tongue.

---

Taglist: (sorry if I missed anyone)

@saltedcoffeescotch @thirstyroses-world @kingshitonly @spidersfrommars15 @mariahoedt @missromantasy @breadsticks2004 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @vhjlucky13 @helo1281917 @i-am-infinite @emptyporsche @quiet-loser @watermelomsuger @anxious-cactus @rcarbo1 @latinxbipride @chelsiemp @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @marina468 @kennedy-brooke @myromanempiree @craftytrashprincess @fairydustblossom @st4r-girl-official @darkbloodsly @kitsunetori @historygeekqueen @ivy-34 @optimisticbabydreamer @fightmedraco @maruiin @thefandomplace @bxtchopolis @annamariereads16 @whosmys @toobsessedsstuff

[suiana]

Can I see ur take on a miserable Yan baby daddy (+miserable reader too)

(yandere! baby daddy x gn! afab reader) (sorry.. idk how to make reader miserable... mayb in another life... dies...)

"please please please please just one chance-"

he whines, hugging your feet as you try to leave his apartment. you merely grimace at him, trying to kick him away but to no avail.

you and him were once friends with benefits but unfortunately he had gotten you pregnant, leading you to ending things with him. you didn't want anything serious after all.

you told him you didn't want to see him anymore and that he should piss off. why would you want to remain in contact with someone who had a weak pullout game? that's just so stupid.

but he wasn't one to take no for an answer.

"please please please.... you can't just leave me! i sold everything to be with you!"

he cries, wetting your pants with snot and tears as he presses his face against the fabric of your jeans. you let out an annoyed 'tsk' trying to push his head away. god damnit, if he didn't let go you'd miss your flight!

"let go! i need to go to my flight!"

"no don't leave me!"

"shut up! i can't believe i even entertained you for so long! your flat is empty except for a bed and pictures of me!"

you hiss at the male, eyebrows furrowed as you hold your baby in your arms. damn it, you should've left him way earlier. he's not even rich! ugh, at least he's pretty. you've always had a thing for pretty boys.

your baby daddy sniffles, sobbing hysterically as he tries to beg you to stay with him. his eyes were glossed over, lower lip trembling as his cheeks flush a beautiful red hue.

damn it, damn him and his pretty face!

"please... i'll work 3 jobs if that's what you want! i'll win the lottery and give you a life of luxury! just don't leave me!"

his words were sincere, that much you knew. after all, he was so madly in love with you that he'd even accept being your friends with benefits just so he could feel like he was yours.

but it was just too much for someone that didn't want anything serious.

"ah!"

he whimpers as you kick him off and stomp out of his apartment. you still had a flight to head to. you couldn't be held up by him any longer. and your baby was starting to get annoyed by her dad.

"guh!"

"ah ah... okay baby, we're going now."

you coo at your baby as you drag your luggage out. aw, she's so pretty. must be because her daddy is pretty, she looks just like him after all.

leaving behind your pathetic baby daddy, you got into the cab you booked and didn't even as much as look behind.

"shit... shit they left... they actually..."

your baby daddy sobs into his hands again, sniffling and curling up into a ball on the floor of his barren apartment. no more you to brighten his life anymore, or his baby girl either.

the man sobs quietly, tears falling and wetting his eyelashes before he glares at your picture on the wall.

"just you wait... i'll get you back."

[voidsuites]

ARTRICK BOT RELEASE !!! (11/13/24) ⌢⠀ 🎾 .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．coach's orders. you’re art’s newest player— an up-and-coming name in the tennis world— but you’re stubborn and prone to working yourself to the bone in the name of the game. tashi would’ve loved you if she’d gotten her hands on you first, but you’re here with him, on his private backyard court, listening to his advice about your game and ultimately, your career. and damnit, art’s not going to take that for granted (even if it means pushing the delicate boundaries between an athlete and their coach). you’ve got to learn how to relax, and art’s not opposed to bending you over the net if that’ll fix things.

art donaldson ・゜゜・．lesson planning. it’s your first year having a hands-on role in building out and finalizing the curriculum for the middle school english department, but your focus has been equally split between what books your kids are going to read and the head of the english department himself, mr. donaldson. you’d been wary to accept such a high responsibility in the first place, but he’d insisted that you help him review the materials during prep week, and you'd never say no to art… even if it means awkwardly dancing around the fact that you’re both clearly into one another— oh, and that he’s finally taken off his wedding ring.

art and patrick ・゜゜・．night of the living frat! it really should be sacrilegious that sigma chi’s hosting a costume party just a week after halloween, but none of the brothers had been able to resist yet another party before finals overtook the rest of the semester. besides— who passes up a chance to dress up and drink? the music’s loud, the drinks are a-flowin’, and you’d never be able to tell that tonight isn’t halloween. no one’s the wiser… which only makes it harder for art and patrick to keep their hands to themselves and their heads out of the gutter when you eventually materialize. hopefully they can convince you to stay the night… if they can remember how to share first.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．mr. z. everyone loves mr. zweig— or “mr. z” as the students like to call him— and as the newest teacher amongst the faculty ranks, he’s quick to make nice and befriend everyone, including you. normally, you’d normally be skeptical of a washed-up pro tennis player coming to fill in the vacant gym teacher position, but you instead find yourself spending more time with patrick and enjoying yourself. it’s only a matter of time before you realize that lines are blurring and that whatever is going on between you both is way more than a friendship between fellow teachers coworkers.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．shopping spree. frequent trips to the high-end side of the city had never been your sort of thing thing, but now that you’re dating patrick they’ve become a weekly occurrence. you never leave empty-handed, and it’s always on his dime (at his insistence, of course, it’s all chump change to him anyway). who cares about the staring you two get when he totes you and your purchases of the day around the city?— he’s the one that gets to go about his business with you on his arm. everyone else is just lucky he just can’t help showing you off while he does.

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 5.2K AND 2 MIL+ CHATS! this is actually insanity i don't even know what to say or how to feel but thank you thank you 😭😭😭😭😭😭 challengers brainrot has struck again (big surprise) these are all mostly aus— the art and pat teacher bots (lesson planning + mr. z) are based off of headcanons by dearest mars (the lovely @saintzweig) and the shopping spree pat bot is based off of the moodboard by my true love @diyasgarden !!! please please please please please give my lovely moots a follow bc without them (and everyone else) i would not have any ideas and you all would just be subjected to the whistling wind that blows in my head when nothing is going on in there (which happens often!) love love LOVE you guys for real i am so grateful for all of the support and giggles that we all have <33333333333

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 7-Aphrodisiac-Chrollo/Reader

notes: Chrollo is hard to write. Sry if this is ooc lol

title is from 'Stop' by Sam Brown

...

You're in the middle of curling your hair, when your phone rings. You curse, dropping the strand of hair you were preparing to curl, carefully placing the curling iron on the stone beneath your feet, and grab your phone. 

“Hisoka, where the actual fuck are you? We’ve gotta go soon!” You say angrily, your voice echoing against the stone of the stupid church the troupe had decided to hide out in. You're wearing pajama pants and a large oversized t-shirt, bending awkwardly in front of a small mirror you have propped up against the wall, frantically pinning your hair into rollers. You and Hisoka are supposed to leave for the mission in about ten minutes, and the damn clown is nowhere to be seen. Most of the other people have left for their missions already, leaving just you, Chrollo, and Machi in the large caverness room. 

Hisoka chuckles. “I'm sorry dear, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave you on your own!” He says. You almost dropped your phone.

“You’ve got to be joking,” You say, deadpan in your delivery. Maybe this is one of his stupid jokes. You tilt your phone, propping it up against your ear and picking up your curling iron again. Might as well finish setting your hair while Hisoka goes on.

“I'm not,” Hisoka says, sounding much too pleased for your liking. “As much as I would love to accompany you, I got caught up in something.”

A beat of silence fills the speakers, as you absorb what he had just told you. Then, the anger starts the flow. 

“You got caught up in something?” You hiss, annoyance clear in your voice. Machi looks up from her own mission preparations. Of course she got the easy one, while you were stuck at a stuffy high class event, with Hisoka to entertain. You pin your roller into place, moving onto the next strand of hair, yelling as you go.

You hear Chrollo shut his book with a snap. 

“You can't just, like, abandon me!” You yell into the speaker. “I literally can't do this mission by myself, you know that!”

“I'm afraid it's out of my hands,” Hisoka says. You can hear his smile through the phone, and you almost pop a blood vessel. “I wish you luck!”

“Hey, you can't just—” Hisoka disconnects with a beep. You stair at your phone in shock for a moment, and then raise your arm to chuck it across the room in frustration.

“Fucking damnit!” You shriek, then hiss as you burn your finger on your curler. Machi chuckles in sympathy.

“Hisoka?” She asks, shooting a wry smile in your direction. You nod.

“The fucker says he cant come,” You groan, pinning your last hot curl into a roller, away from your tender neck and put away your curling iron. “He says he's caught up in something or whatever.”

Machi stiffles a giggle, and you shoot her a look of betrayal. 

“Maaaachi,” You whine, sinking against the rock floor with a groan, your hair still in rollers. No sense to take them out, after it took you so long. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You could go by yourself,” She says.

“I caaaant, I'm a noncombatant,” You whine, “And besides their expecting husband and wife, they'd totally suspect me if I showed up alone.”

“You could say your ‘husband’ flaked on you.” Machi says, “it isn't technically a lie.”

“If Hisoka was my husband I just might throw myself off a cliff,” You groan, rolling over onto your stomach, careful not to jog your rollers. 

“He's hot though,” Machi says, gathering up her things.

“True,” You say, “that's literally the only thing he has going for him.”

Machi hums contentedly, as you stew in annoyance on the cold ground, rolling carefully back and forth, keeping your neck at an awkward angle so you don't jog the rollers in your hair. 

“So what's the plan, Boss?” Machi asks, packing her supplies in her go back. You frown, and then swiftly remember that Chrollo is here as well. You tend to forget, he doesn't talk that much. 

Chrollo gently sets the book he was reading next to him, stacking it neatly on top of the other books that sit beside him. 

“I guess it can't be helped,” He says, standing up from his position on the big boss rock, and jumping down to the ground floor where the mortals sit. “I'll take his place.”

You stare at him in surprise.

“Really?” You ask, genuinely a bit confused. You didn't really know Chrollo all that well, even though he was technically your boss. He didn't really interact with you much, and he never went on missions. 

“Yes, if I must.” Chrollo says, standing a few feet away from you as you start mindlessly on your makeup. 

“Oh,” You say, a bit thrown off and confused. Machi chuckles

“You sound so surprised and confused,” She says, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and shooting you a small smile. “Chrollo does do missions occasionally.”

“Not with me,” You mutter, then cover it up with a nervous giggle. “I mean I'm just not used to doing missions with anyone but you, Machi. And Hisoka.”

“My condolences,” Machi grins, slipping her sandals onto her feet. “You work so hard for us, Name.”

“I know,” You whine, carefully contouring your nose. Chrollo coughs, and you jostle in surprise. 

“Oh! I forgot you were still here.” You laugh, whipping away the excess contour you had accidentally smudged, and shooting a smile over your shoulder. Chrollo makes an odd face, tilting his head slightly.

“You forgot I was here?” He asks, sounding a bit offended. You shrug.

“You don't really talk that much,” You chuckle, highlighting your nose. “Do you have a suite?”

“I can find one,” he says, still standing a bit back from you. You try not to be too conscious of his eyes on you as you finish your makeup, spraying it generously with setting spray. This shit better not budge all night, or you're officially losing it.

Machi giggles, tossing you a wink as she heads towards the door. “Good luck, name.” She says, and you wave in her direction as she steps out of the shelter and into the rain. Thunder booms and lightning cuts through the sky, and when it recedes you can't make out her figure anymore. You sigh. Tonight is going to be awkward. 

♱♱♱

The taxi ride is dead silent. You sit in the back, Chrollo sitting a foot away, a book sitting open on his crossed legs. You stare out the window, hair pillowing softly over your shoulders, dress pooling over your crossed legs. The Taxi driver is unbothered, airpods sitting firm in his ears as he drives on, not a care in the world that the people he's driving are sitting in awkward silence in the back of his car. You heave a deep sigh, and catch yourself wishing Hisoka were here instead. At least he never shut up. 

Hurriedly, you kick yourself, and try to make conversation.

“What are you reading?” You ask, desperately trying to fill the awkward silence. Chrollo looks up, closing his book with a snap.

“Simply cataloging my abilities,” he says, slipping the book into his pocket. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing interesting,”

“I thought you read actual books,” You say, one of your heels scraping your ankle as you cross your legs. “Is that all you read?”

Chrolllo coughs, muffling what you think might be a laugh. 

“No, my dear.” He says, turning to look at you fully. “Are you feeling prepared for the mission?”

“I guess,” You sigh, restlessly uncrossing your legs again. “We practiced and stuff, but…”

“You practiced?” Chrollo asks curiously, and you turn to face him fully. He has his hair down for once, and a piece of fabric covering his forehead marking. You catch yourself thinking he looks handsome. He should wear his hair down more often.

“Yeah, Hisoka and I,” You say, “We mostly just memorized our characters' names and stuff like that.”

Chrollo nods. 

“I see,” He says, reaching into his coat jacket for the wedding invitation. “You didn't practice being newlyweds?”

You laugh, tilting your head back and pulling your freshly curled hair over your shoulders so it doesn't get smushed. 

“We didn't really need to,” You say, watching the driver's screen through the plastic window separating the driver from the back seats. His map says you’ll arrive at your destination in fifteen minutes. “We’ve done a lot of missions together, and besides, Hisoka can be pretty charming when he wants to be.”

“Ah, I see.” Chrollo says, flipping the invitation open and reading it carefully. “So we are Mr and Ms Benton, then?”

You nod, recalling the information along with him in your mind.

“We’ve been married for two weeks, and we're so in love everyone is annoyed and disgusted with us.” You say, watching the blue dot that symbolizes the car your riding in move closer and closer to your destination. 

“Right, and our mission?”

“Get in, steal the necklace and get out without causing a fuss.” You reply, sighing. “It's this a lot of hassle for one necklace?”

Chrollo chuckles, slipping the invitation back into his suit jacket with a small smile.

“Maybe,” He says, “But we all have our part to play.”

♱♱♱

The part is a boring one. You nod, smiling through your teeth as this man talks on and on, throwing in the occasional ‘Uh Huh’ to be safe. Chrollo, hand wrapped around your waist, smiles widely, his eyes glazed over. 

You shift closer to him, leaning over to whisper through your teeth.

“Can we go now?” You ask, ignoring the butterflies that flutter in your stomach as he squeezes your waist comfortingly. 

“We haven't done what we’ve come here for yet,” He whispers back quietly, barely moving his lips. 

You roll your eyes, and tune back into the conversation. One man has cornered the two of you in the corner and is talking at you about his money and how many cars he has and how his last wife was a model and blah blah blah. You aren't paying attention at all. 

“And i have just added a new Bugatti to my collection,” The man says, pausing like you should clap or something.

“Oh cool,” You say, deadpan. The man chuckles, seeming to not at all get the sarcasm in your tone. 

“If you want to see them, pretty lady, you can come over to my place after—”

“You have some impressive cars,” Chrollo says, squeezing your waist twice. The signal. You take a swig of your champain, then set it gently on the table beside you. You want to come back to that. 

“Oh hubby, I think I'm feeling a bit faint!” You whine dramatically, bring a hand up to your forehead, closing your eyes and tilting your head dramatically. Chrollo gasps, abruptly sweeping you off your feet and into his arms.

“If you’ll excuse us, I'll be taking my wife to lie down for a bit,” Chrollo says to the man in front of you guys. Your eyes still closed, you peek out of the corner of one eye to find the man eyeing you with disappointment. Quickly, you close your eyes again.

“Hurry Baby,” You whimper dramatically. “I feel faint!”

Chrollo's hands tighten against your body and you feel his chest vibrate against your side. He must be laughing. But he speeds away at your instruction, moving towards the powder room, which just happens to be in a long hallway off the main room the party was situated in. the perfect place for the two of you to disappear to for about two minutes. Just enough time to get your hands on the necklace. 

“How did it go?” Chrollo asks as you return to his guard position, situated a few feet away from the door of the women's bathroom. You grin, flashing him a thumbs up.

“A brief scrap with a security guard, but i hide in a closet,” You say, taking off your plastic gloves and dumping them into your small clutch purse. It was almost laughably how easy stealing the necklace had been. After Chrollo had let you down from his arms all you did was walk the ten feet to the storage room and hide from the lone security guard in the nearby closet. Then you just swiped the necklace and placed it in the plastic bag you had prepared, and dropped it out the window. Now all that was left was to go around the house and retrieve it. 

“Now we just need to get out of here,” You say, wiping the sweat off your hands and onto your dress. “You think we can escape without car guy yelling at us again?”

Chrollo chuckles. “Not likely, I'm afraid.” He says, grabbing your waist as the two of you walk back towards the brightly lit entrance room. 

“Oh well,” You sigh, “I wanted to finish my champain anyway.”

Sure enough, it takes you all of five minutes for the car guy to find the two of you again, walking with you as you beeline for your champain. You're going to need all of it to survive even five minutes of this guy talking.

“...and just yesterday, I added to my new Rolex collection…”

“Oh really.” You say, downing your champain. It tastes a little weird. Maybe it's gone a little flat in the short amount of time you were gone. You place the empty cup down on the table beside with a clank. The man looks at it, his brown eyes sliding to you in a way that makes your skin crawl, and you shiver. Chrollo squeezes your waist gently, hand sending butterflies frolicking around your stomach. 

A beat of silence passes. Then the man speaks.

“Do you feel alright, miss?”

You raise and eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. 

“I'm fine?” you question, and then after a beat an escape plan starts to form. “You know what, I'm tired. Can we go home now baby?”

Chrollo springs into action, gripping your waist and spinning you towards the exit with a grin. 

“Of course dear, whatever you want.” He says, voice fakely sweet as the two of you march towards the exit at a brisk pace. You wind through the small circles of people, about seven to five people in each round, talking of this and that. They spare the two of you a passing glance before returning to their conversations. You catch snippets of them as you wind by, nothing of any interest or note. You feel a bit hot, longing for the cold air of the night. You can't wait to go home and take a shower. 

Finally, the two of you escape into the night, the cold air enveloping you. You still feel a bit hot. Chrollo leans in, whispering in your air as the two of you stop a few feet away from the front doors of the manor. 

“I'll get the necklace.” he whispers, pulling away from you with a brief kiss to your forehead. Then louder he continues, “Stay right here baby, I'll be right back.”

You nod, hand tracing the spot he had kissed as you watch him disappear into the night. Your skin tingles where his lips had touched it, and your heart pounds a bit fast in your chest. You still feel hot, even though you’ve escaped into the cold air. You sit down on a small bench, feeling a bit out of breath, and stair at the manor you had just exited. It's really a lovely building, the gothic architecture hiding in the shadows of the night. Light pours out from most of the windows of the multi story building, casting panes of yellow light onto the cobblestone driveway. The manor is on the main road, but set back to give the illusion of exclusivity. You yawn, sinking back against the small bench.

“There you are, pretty lady.”

You jump, opening your eyes abruptly. The car guy from earlier is standing over you, his legs only a few inches from your crossed legs. You glare up at him, much too tired to deal with his nonsense. 

“Can I help you?” You ask, your annoyance leaking out in your tone. Where the hell is Chrollo?

The man scoffs. 

“Why so rude, girly,” He simpers, “you should be loosening up to me soon.”

“You're bothering me,” You mutter, rolling your eyes. You feel a bit weak for some reason, muscles refusing to cooperate as you force yourself to stand. You totter a bit and the man catches you. His hands feel unpleasant, and you recoil quickly. 

The man considers, tilting his head to the side in confusion. 

“It should be kicking in about now,” He mutters to himself, hand on his chin as he eyes you up and down. His eyes feel slimy, goosebumps run against your skin as he grips your biceps, holding your arms against your side. “No matter, I'll just have to start early.”

He licks his lips, and your skin runs cold as what he intends to do to you becomes clear. You struggle, but feel strangely sluggish. Your body feels like jelly, hot and cold at the same time, and your limbs feel weak. The man laughs unpleasantly, grinning down at you, his eyes focused on your boobs.

“Not so tough now, aren't you?” He simpers. 

You try to struggle, trying desperately to pull your arms from his grip, to twist away, to escape. But you can't. You should be able to, this man is not more physically fit than you, but for some reason your body feels so weak. You bite back a whimper of fear, desperate not to show any emotion. It's been a while since you were afraid. 

“Your husband left you all alone, did he? Don't worry, i'll take good care of yo—”

He stills, his body going straight and tight. And then his eyes roll back and you watch him topple sideways, his hands leaving your arms as he crumples to the ground. You bite back a sob of relief as Chrollo grins at you, patting his hands of any free dust. 

“I've got the necklace, so let's head out.” He says, and then as he takes you in, trembling slightly like a leaf in the wind he continues, “are you alright?”

You shake yourself, forcing a grin as you fight through the liquid in your brain and the jelly in your limbs. You shoot him a smile.

“Just lovely!” you say, trying to convince yourself as you force your legs to move, propelling yourself towards the gate. “Let's head home.”

You assume Chrollo is following you, but you can't be sure. You can barely focus on anything, only propelling your legs forward, and ignoring the searing heat that is boiling in your blood, under your skin, in your gut. You feel like you're going to dissolve, melt into a puddle onto the ground. You can smell Chrollo behind you, a mix of citrus cologne and sweat, and a heavy musk that you can't place. You bite back a whimper, suppressing the urge to move closer to that scent, to curl into his body. You stumble a bit, quickly regaining your balance as you move out of the gate and back onto the street. Chrollo catches up, shooting you glances as he walks beside you.

“You sure you're alright, name?” he asks. The streets are empty at this time of night, but light streams down around you, from windows overhead to the pools of light below the street lamps. You no longer have any trouble walking, strowing confidently across the pavement, your hips swaying. You feel hungry.

“Oh, I'm doing just fine~” You sing-song, feeling a bit giddy with happiness. A singular man walks by and you have the sudden urge to chase after him, and make him kiss you. It's gone as soon as it has come, but it makes you snap out of your fearver, coming to a sudden stop on the concrete. 

“Ok wait, maybe something is wrong,” You say, bringing a hand up to your forehead. You feel no fever, but your hand shakes as you bring it away. Your body is still pulsing with heat, thrumming from your toes to the tips of your fingers and back down. And then the pain strikes. Blinding white pain running in tandem with the pleasure, mixing into a terrible cocktail of agony. You suppress a whimper, as your knees buckle, sending you tumbling towards the hard concrete.

Chrollo catches you before you can fall, reaching out to grip your waist, catching you a few feet from the ground. You bit back another whimper, this one threatening to rise from your throat as you feel his warm hand around your waist. You feel like crying.

“Name?” Chrollo says, gently bring his hand up to your chin and turn your face to look at him. “Can you tell me what's going on?

You whimper, unconsciously nuzzling into his hand as the burning pain recedes a bit to the edges of your body, and your consciousness returns slightly.

“I don't know,” You whimper, fully relaxing against him. He's the only thing between you and the cold hard concrete. “Why are you asking me like it's my fault?”

“Ok,” Chrollo says, grabbing your waist tightly and pulling the both of you to your feet. “Let's get you inside.”

“Mhm,” You murmur, nuzzling into his shoulder and breathing in his lovely scent. “Whatever you say.”

♱♱♱

The receptionist of the hotel sends him a scornful look as he walks up to the front desk, helping you walk.

It's a rather gaudy hotel, clearly a love hotel but it was the first one Chrollo spotted so it would have to do. It was better to get you into a hotel as soon as possible, you're clearly on some type of drugs.

The receptionist seems to agree, with the way she glares tiredly at him. 

“I switch jobs and it's always the same, huh.” She mutters, hitting the keys loudly. “Name, sir?”

“Benton,” Chrollo says, sliding the fake identification card across the counter. “This is my wife, Name Benton.”

“Uh huh,” The receptionist, Fumiko, sighs deeply through her teeth. “What kind of room do you want?” 

“Ah, I'll take the cheapest option please.” Chrollo says.

Fumiko raises an eyebrow, pinning him to the spot with her stare and letting silence fill the mostly empty lobby. Slowly, she slides her eyes to you, clearly drugged on his shoulder, and back to him. Chrollo feels more ashamed than he's ever felt before. 

“Cheapass,” Fumiko whispers, returning to the keyboard loudly. “Id?”

“Oh it–”

“Yeah,” Fumiko says, swiping it from the countertop. She looks at it for too long, holding it up to the light. Chrollo fears for a moment that she'll kick them out. He really doesn't want to find another love hotel, and you're getting more and more limp by the moment. Thankfully, she just sighs, going back to the computer with a sigh.

“Why do I even bother?” She mutters to herself, sliding the id back across the counter at him. “It's always worse, every time I ask. From barely legal to barely conscious…”

She continues muttering to herself, tapping away at the keys of the computer as Chrollo stands there, your body draped ungracefully against his side, breath coming in uneven little bursts. There's definitely something wrong with you.

“Cash or card?” Fumiko says. Chrollo slides the money over the counter. For some reason, he feels like this was the wrong move as Fumiko regards him with more suspicion as she hands over the room key.

“Enjoy your stay,” She bites out. 

“Thank you.” Chrollo says, moving towards the elevator of the pink and red lobby. He feels her hard stare on his back until the elevator doors close behind them. He hoists you up, cradling you in his arms for the second time tonight as your head lolls back, faint little pants exiting your mouth. Your eyes are hazy, your pretty curled hair tangling with his arms, hanging towards the ground in a waterfall of color. You look very pretty, but then again you always do.

It's a bit of a struggle to get you into the room, but he manages it, juggling you and the door as it shuts behind him with a solid heavy thud. He places you gently on the bed, sighing in relief and turning away to shed his own coat. When he turns around, you blink slowly at him. 

“Ah, you're awake?” he says, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. “How are you feeling?”

You dont reply, blinking slowly at him, eyes hazy. Chrollo feels a bit more worried. You're not really conscious, you’ve barely spoken full sentences since that man put his dirty hands all over your arms. He had assumed your lack of fighting had been to avoid a scene, but maybe it was something else. 

“Name, I need you to tell me what's wrong.” Chrollo begs you, more worry than strictly necessary leaking into his voice. Finally, your pink lips part.

“Hot,” You mutter, jumping to your fighting with the top of your dress. “Help me out of this.”

Chrollo obeys, turning you around and undoing the zipper of your black dress with a sigh. He ignores the swaths of skin on display from him, pointing his eyes strictly over your shoulder. You sigh, slipping out of your dress. Chrollo watches it pool below you on the floor, black slinky material sitting in a pile. You smile up at him for a moment, a twinkle of innocence in your hazy eyes, your hair sitting messily upon your shoulders, the straps of your bra tempting his eyes to look a little further. 

“Are you feeling better?” He asks instead, keeping his eyes strictly above your collarbones. You do have nice collarbones. He'd like to kiss them, if you would let him. You don't seem to like him much. Chrollo acknowledges that you must consider him boring, compared to the louder and more eccentric mission partner you were assigned. But he could be interesting. If you’d let him.  

“Mm,” You humm, turning away to crawl onto the bed. Chrollo's eyes take in your body as you crawl back, your ass on display for him to view. You're wearing matching black underwear. Heat runs through his body, and Chrollo feels his dick jump against his thigh. It's probably been too long. 

You’ve propped yourself up on your knees, your face pressed against the white bedsheets, your ass still high in the air, presented like a present. Chrollo is beginning to understand what exactly that man had slipped you. It must have been an Aphrodisiac of some sort. It's clear as you wind your hand down, and Chrollo watches you stroke your pussy through your panties. He clears his throat.

“What are you doing, Name?” He asks, undoing another button on his shirt. It's too hot here. 

“I feel so hot,” You whimper, and Chrollo watches as you push your panties aside, slipping a finger into yourself with a squelch. Chrollo bites his lip, hard. 

“Do you need my help?” He asks. You need to say yes. What will he do if you don't. He might lose his mind.

“Yeah,” You whimper, the white sheets stark against your pink lips. “Hurry.”

Chrollo moves embarrassingly fast, tossing his belt and shoes onto the floor with his jacket, and thrusting himself inside of you.

Your back arches, your toes curling in the white fabric as you clench deliciously around him. Chrollo bites back a groan, embarrassed of his eager behavior. He would have linked to work you up normally, maybe eat your pretty pussy. But that would have to wait for another day. And it seems you don't mind as you buck against him, urging him to move. 

“Ugh, you're big.” You whimper, hands knotting prettily in the white sheets. You look so pretty like this, turned on your back and grinning hazily up at him. He wonders how long this will last. He wonders if when you awaken tomorrow, you’ll regard him with the same cautious contempt you always do. 

Chrollo grips your waist with his hands, thrusting himself deep inside your clenching walls, setting a slow deep pace. You move with each thrust, pretty pink mouth letting out breathy pants and groans. If he's lucky, a pant of his name. The world around you is hazy, the gap of window shown by the curtains is fogged up, condensation and sweat muddling the world beyond. Your back arches, your body trembling as you grow closer to your orgasms.

“I'm close,” You whimper, muffled against the sheets. Chrollo presses his body against yours, pressing the two of you deep into the bed. You're laying flat now, your but reaching up to meet his short, deep thrusts. Your walls are clenching around him, driving him giddy.

Chrollo doesn't know how to feel. And so he focuses all of his energy on pleasing you. On watching the shudders and shivers of your shoulders, the clenching of your fingers, the gasping breaths spilling from your pink lips. He presses little kisses to your neck, leaving a pretty scatters of hickeys across your shoulders. The red spots make him swell with pride as you clench around him. 

“I'm cumming.” You groan, body tensing and walls suctioning him deep inside you. Chrollo obeys your body's command, thrusting himself deep inside of you one more time and letting himself go. Your moans are pretty as you come, and Chrollo muffles his own sounds in your shoulders, as stars the color of your eyes spill across his eyelids. 

He doesn't know what's going to happen after this. But at least for now, as he pulls himself out of you and curls up beside you, the world is content.

...

Endnotes: sry this ones kinda short i had a lot going on today lol

[woso-dreamzzz]

Escape III

Bruna Vilamala x Eriksson!Reader

Summary: You visit Barcelona

"Looking good," Frido whistled as she slumped next to you in the stands," Looking to trade Germany for Spain?" She wiggled her brows.

"Everyone's abandoning ship," You shrugged," Jill's gone to City, Obi's running off to Bayern. Who knows?"

"Wait, seriously?" Frido looked at you in shock. "I was only joking but you're actually thinking about it?"

You shrugged again. "I'm only looking, getting a lay of the land and stuff. But it's warm here."

"And it's got Bruna."

You grinned. "And it's got Bruna."

"You're so in love with her, you make me sick. You're just like Magda."

"Take it back!" You pretended to gag. "I never want to hear those words again!"

Frido flashed you a grin. "Why don't you go to Bayern like Obi? Nice little sister reunion."

"There's better chance of me going back to Sweden."

"You're going back to Sweden?"

You looked over at the barrier and stood, shaking your head. "No, baby." You cupped Bruna's face. "I was just telling Frido that I'd rather play in Sweden again then join the same club as Magda."

Bruna laughed. "You could use Pernille as a buffer?"

"Magda would get me while I was sleeping. No, it would be much safer is I just came to Barca with you."

You leaned over the barrier to peck her lips. When you pulled away, she was blushing and reached up to keep your hands on her cheeks.

"Really?"

"We're already in talks. I thought about following Jill but I don't think I want to stay that far from you, baby. I told you, I want to be mushy with you like Magda and Pernille are...just...as far from them as possible."

"I'd like that," Bruna said," Are you still coming to the afterparty?"

"Yes. Go, baby, you've only got so long to rest before the second half. Score a goal for me, okay?"

Bruna did.

Half an hour into the second half, she scored from the edge of the box and celebrated by pointing up to where you were sitting and blew a kiss.

"Gross," Frido said," God, you and Magda are definitely sisters. You're always so lovey-dovey with your girlfriends."

"Stop comparing me to Magda!"

Frido must have been getting tips from your sister on how to annoy because she didn't let up until Ingrid dragged her off to the bar at the afterparty.

You nursed your own drink as Bruna sat in your lap, resting her head on your shoulder. You weren't that familiar with her teammates bar Jana so you were happy to let the conversation wash over you.

"I heard you're in talks with Barca?" Keira asked.

You shrugged. "Yeah, looking for something a bit different. Wolfsburg isn't going to be the same next year so I'm going to get out now."

"I heard that City was interested."

"They were. Jill's trying to vouch for them but Barcelona's got good weather and Bruna. It's a no-brainer really."

You felt Bruna grin against your shoulder, leaving soft featherlight kisses to the exposed skin.

"Well, if she keeps scoring like she did earlier then you need to transfer now because, wow, that was class."

You grinned. "I'll keep that in mind. We'll see what your club says."

"You're staying," Bruna whispered with certainty as the conversation moved on," I know you are."

"You're so certain, baby," You tutted," What makes you so sure?"

Bruna fixed you with a pointed look but only really managed to look like a disgruntled kitten. You'd seen angrier looks from Pernille, whose good books you perpetually lived in.

"One of the trainers broke the news that you'd already signed. He thought that I knew."

"Damnit," You said with an eye roll," There goes my surprise. Do I still get points for it?" You winked at her and Bruna laughed, pulling you into a soft kiss even though you were surrounded by her teammates.

"I guess so. When do you start?"

"After the summer," You replied," I'm going to finish off my last season at Wolfsburg and then fly over for preseason with you."

"You could start sending your stuff over now."

You laughed. "Slow your roll there, babe. I still need stuff at my place in Germany. Besides, Magda and Pernille are coming over next week. I didn't want them to be suspicious."

"Are you going to tell your sister?" Bruna asked as she relaxed more on your lap, stealing kisses whenever she could.

"She didn't let me know about her move to Bayern. I found out through Twitter."

"You could be the bigger person."

"Eww, no, gross! I want to stoop to her level! Hell, I want to get lower than her level! In fact, I want to play limbo with her level!"

Bruna giggled. "I think I understand why you and Magda fight as much as you do."

[hughjackmansbicep]

The Seamstress

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: Youre a seamstress and he seems to have an endless supply of holey clothes....

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: None :D

a/n: haiiiiii ive always loved this trope in fics !!! tehe!! srry for not writing much recently i got fired from my job LOL anywayssss... i was listening to the smiths writing this unrelated but related.

Most days bled together, the same mundane routine playing out in front of you each day. Wake up, go to work, go home, eat takeout, and pass out to some soap opera. Currently, the highlight of your life was finding out what was going to happen next on The Days of Our Lives. You were a seamstress in the middle of Manhattan; you owned a small shop off 64th, and although you were living out your dream, nothing excited you anymore. Every task felt exhausting; you couldn't even find passion in sewing anymore. That was until he stumbled into your shop.

“Hi, yeah, I was wondering if you'd be able to sew this up for me.” He grumbled, holding up what appeared to be some yellow and blue jumpsuit. You'd almost forgotten to respond, completely captivated by his sheer beauty. His gorgeous face, chiseled body, kitty-like hair, and you can't forget the unusual yet totally working for him mutton chops. “U-um, ahem, yeah, I totally could.” You manage to choke out, reaching for the clothing item. “How long do you reckon it'll take?” You examine the clothing carefully; it's decorated with rips and holes everywhere. He's lucky if I can get this finished by the end of the week, “Tomorrow.” Your mouth moves quicker than your brain can. “Cool, I'll come by at 10? Is that alright?” He asks, slowly backing out of the shop, his eyes never leaving you. ‘10am? I can't begin to do that either; I mean, I wouldn't get to sleep tonight’. “Yep! See you at 10!” Cure that mouth of yours; you give him a smile and an awkward wave as he makes his way out the door.

You blow your breath out as if you'd been holding it the entire time, sinking down into your chair. You silently cursed at yourself for agreeing to such a stupid timeframe, but this meant you could binge Days of Our Lives tonight, so maybe it wasn't half bad.

The rest of the day went just as you expected. A couple hems, a few cinches—nothing out of the ordinary apart from the comic book cosplay you agreed to revive back to life. It was currently 3 o’clock in the morning; you'd been sitting there sewing the garment for 7 hours. Honestly, you'd been making great time; you were so close to finishing, maybe 20 stitches left total. Somewhere between the last stitch and a doctor getting slapped, you'd passed out on your living room floor.

You'd awoken to the feeling of your feline licking your cheek, causing you to immediately shoot up off the floor. Your eyes frantically searching for a clock, the power Must’ve gone out sometime around 5 in the morning because that's all you saw flashing back at you on the stove. In a frenzy, you started throwing random clothes on, praying they'd match, shoving the costume in a garment bag, and running out the door. Thats when you finally looked down at your phone, seeing the time read 10:03, “God damnit.” You whined under your breath. Your shop was only a couple blocks away, but that was still a 15-minute walk, so you sprinted. You probably looked like a complete lunatic, but you couldn't care less right now. The incredibly hot customer probably waiting outside your doors was the utmost important thing on your mind.

Dripping in sweat and hyperventilating as you turned the corner to where your shop was, you saw him just as you thought you would. Leaning up against the door, one arm crossed over his torso as he took a drag from his cigar with his other. God, he looked heavenly, and you... Well, maybe not your best day, but definitely not your worst. “Hey, sorry I'm late.” You breathed out, hands resting on your knees as you caught your breath. “But I've got your thingy.” You hold the garment bag up; he just furrows his eyebrows at you, cocking his head to the side. His silence makes you feel more embarrassed than you already do. You get up to unlock your doors, ushering him to follow you inside.

You check him out at the register; the only words being exchanged were the cost of the repairs and where he can tap his card. He walked out with a smile and a nod, a soft ‘Thanks’ escaping his lips before the door shut. You throw your head in your hands, feeling shame wash over you. You were hoping and praying he was going to leave his number on the receipt, but obviously he did not. I mean, why would you have had him waiting and showed up looking like a complete mess? Not very good looks. You simply had to chop it up as a loss and return back to the mundaneness of your life.

The very next morning, though, he was here again, this time holding an old brown jacket. He'd said there was a small hole in the pocket he wanted fixed. This time it only took you all 20 minutes. You asked him to wait upfront as you brought the jacket to the back to repair it. When you returned, you checked him out the same as before, and he left exactly the same as before. This became an everyday routine for the two of you. Every day he'd walk in with some worn-out article of clothing asking you to stitch it up; you always obliged, even if the clothes looked and smelled like they came from 1987. You always did wonder how this guy had so many ripped-up clothes just lying around, and why wouldn't he just bring them in all at once?

This charade had been going on for 2 weeks now when you finally decided to break from your usual script of ‘thank you, come again’. “Why is everything you own torn apart? Is everything okay back home?” You asked as he slipped his card into the machine. You could see the heat rising to his cheeks as he tried to hide a smirk creeping its way on his face. “You want me to be honest with you?” He looked up at you, pursing his lips together in a thin line. You nodded your head, waiting for him to continue, “I honestly thought you were gorgeous when I first walked into your shop.” Now your cheeks started burning red as your eyes went wide. “So every day since then I head into Goodwill and find anything I can with a hole in it so I can find an excuse to come see you.” This was the first time you'd ever seen this man avoid eye contact with you. You couldn't find your words as your throat had gone dry. He was into you??? And here you were this whole time thinking you ruined your shot (and that he was homeless, but you weren't going to tell him that). 

"Well, say something.” He exasperated, snapping you out of your daze. “I honestly don't know what to say; I’m shocked. I get off at 6 if y’know... You wanted to grab something to eat?” You offer awkwardly, smiling through the pain of how anxious you sounded. He looks up to you finally meeting your gaze, a soft smile painted on his lips. “Ill be here to pick you up at 6 doll.” He grabs your hand, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckle. He walked out the door, leaving you in utter shock and denial for the rest of your shift.

hi ps u can always request me shtuff to write! :3