#do not resist change in favor of comfort

[novemberheart]

{overview} Your pack comes home

{warnings} fem reader, cursing, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, chapter story, short chapter, fighting, slight angst

Chapter 36 <- Chapter 37 -> Chapter 38

“John I”-

“Get in now,” he growled lowly. You swallowed, holding Vernie closer in comfort. Kyle stayed by the car opening the door for you. Both of them were being pelted by rain. You swore you could see steam coming off of them.

“Kyle,” you started. He nodded his head towards the car, urging you along. You crawled in, already shedding your backpack off. The car was warm, infested with the putrid smell of an angry alpha. The door shut behind you, Kyle and John getting in the front.

This wasn't the reunion you had expected.

You could probably say the same for them.

Your eyes locked on the rearview mirror, hoping to catch John’s gaze. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel, the only sound being some labored breathing and rain snapping against the military-grade vehicle. You chewed your bottom lip, angling yourself towards Kyle.

You wanted to touch him.

You refrained.

The car came to another screeching halt, both men getting out. John opened the door for you this time. He refused to look at you. It was in the elevator when you started to crack. You resisted the urge to throw yourself at John, instead curling against the elevator wall.

“Go take a shower and get warm,” John commanded, opening the front door. Johnny and Simon were at the counter. You whimpered low in your throat, Johnny’s face curling At the sound. Simon was looking at you.

His eyes were completely unreadable beside the glimmer of dissatisfaction. He didn’t even seem angry. Maybe John was angry enough for the both of them.

You couldn’t bear it.

You latched onto Simon first, loud sobs wracking your body. He was stiff under you for a moment, before melting against you. It was biological.

“Stupid girl,” he grumbled, lips rough against your raw cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, your claws tearing the thick layers covering his shoulder. He pulled away, his hand resting against your stomach to keep distance between the two of you.

“Go shower. We’ll talk then,” he commanded. You sniffled, nodding in agreement. You picked Vernie off the floor heading towards the bathroom to get her dried off. You shedded your clothes, opening the bathroom door just enough for Vernie to slip back through. She immediately paddled over to Johnny who hoisted her up, his nose resting against her scruff.

She smelled like you.

The bathroom door opened while you were in the shower, Kyle’s arm darting in to drop off a few clothes before closing.

They couldn’t be that mad.

Maybe the fact you had been separated so long was working in your favor.

They were sitting on the couch when you came out. It was eerily quiet, all of them sitting up straight upon your arrival.

“I want you to start with your visit to the medical center,” John spoke, leading as always. You decided to settle on the floor, the carpet plush under your knees.

“You were looking at my chip?” You questioned.

“Of course. That’s why we got it,” He replied instantly.

You had them right where you wanted.

“You had time to do that but none to call me?” You shot back. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve been marked. No effort is needed anymore,” you grumbled.

They didn’t like that.

Well, neither did you.

The hairs on your neck stood up at the sound of their low growls. It was like they did it unintentionally, immediately cutting themselves off as you shrunk back.

“Laswell had access to it,” Kyle spoke. “She’d keep us updated. We weren’t in a position to contact you,” Kyle explained. It felt condescending. Like all of them were confused as to the point you were trying to make.

“I don’t believe you,” you replied bluntly. “Before you were able to contact me every few days at least then all of a sudden that changed?” You questioned.

“Yes,” Simon interjected. “Calling you would lead to risks and put you in danger.”

“You could’ve sent a message through Laswell,” you argued.

“We couldn't,” Simon affirmed. “You're just going to have to understand that,” Simon barked, moving to a stand. Your face curled, your body following close behind. You rested your chin against your knees. John sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Why’d you go to the medical center?” John pressed. His voice was softer, resembling your alpha.

“I fell earlier this week. I thought it was okay but it started to look infected. I got it taken care of.”

They hated how monotone you sounded.

“Went by yourself?” Johnny spoke up. You knew he would have the biggest problem with you going through something like that alone.

“No one was here,” you spat back.

John stood up and Simon spun on his heels. Both of them opened their mouths to speak. John was able to get the words out faster.

“Stop actin’ like you weren't taken care of,” he growled. “Yes, you were alone, and I did everything in my power to make sure that didn't happen, but you were safe here. We made sure you had enough to last you for three times the amount of time we were supposed to be gone. It may not feel like it sometimes but everything we do is for you, even things you don't quite see,” he finished with a shaky breath.

“Really? So sitting in a hospital room alone, absolutely terrified of what's wrong with me is you taking care of me?”

“Course not,” he shot back. “I hate that you had to go through that and were without the people that are supposed to make things alright for you. But you understood what would happen if you joined this pack. I’ll put you first- no matter what- but it can't always be instant,” he spoke through a clenched jaw.

You could feel yourself softening by the minute.

You hated it.

You weren't ready to just get over it.

They had cut you off like it was nothing. Even now they sat before you showing very little signs of actually missing you. Maybe they were still angry at you for leaving the base.

“Can I go to bed now?” you asked quietly.

“No,” Simon responded. “The hell were you thinking leaving base?”

“Self sabotage?” you shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to get back at all of you for leaving me for so long. Maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do something. Maybe I wanted to see if it would make you come home,” you choked, turning your head over your shoulder.

They remained silent.

This was unbearable. Your eyes red and swollen. The sting of lemons in the air. Your knotted hair.

All because of them.

And their fucking jobs.

“Should bloody ‘retire’ after this,” John growled, taking a large puff of his cigar. Nothing sounded better at the moment. Two weeks away from you hitting him like a truck. He could retire from the field and resign himself to paperwork. He’d get the two of you a house with some land for you and Vernie to run around. Take you into town for dates. Take you out on the lake and teach you how to fish. He’d grill every night and the two of you would end each night looking at the stars.

His radio going off snapped him out of his thoughts.

Simon groaned at his headache, popping another pill in his mouth. They were some form of suppressants. It was supposed to make being away from you easier. Those who had insisted they worked obviously didn't have an omega like you.

“Right behind you,” Simon nearly chuckled.

He wasn't quite ready to retire yet. He still had some fight in him. But he had underestimated just how much you had domesticated him. The thought of stretching out in a recliner with you propped on his lap was far more compelling than this.

The betas had been worse off. Johnny had been acting like a zombie since day four. His fingers are constantly rolling the bracelet you had made him between his fingers. Kyle was just prick. Growing more and more frustrated each time he was denied access to you, whether by phone or through tracking. At least they had Laswell.

They had to persevere.

The enemy was lurking around. Waiting for one slip up. One thing to hold over their head.

What better thing than you?

“Don’t do it again,” John chided coldly. You wiped your eyes against your shoulder, nodding.

“Can I go to bed now?” You repeated, even softer than before. “All of you are tired too,” you added, already moving to a stand.

Their brows furrowed as you made your way towards your door.

Your mattress was still in John’s room from your heat. There had been no reason to move it back.

Had you moved it back?

“Fat fucking chance,” Johnny growled, connecting the distance. “Just got back from a month of hell and I’d rather die than sleep alone,” he gruffed. “That’s the only way you could get me to sleep alone,” he added. His hands found your waist, easily lifting you up. A small moan escaped you at the contact, your body begrudgingly aching for his touch. He purred roughly, his nose buried in your neck. His hand twisted the knob to your room. You hadn’t moved anything back. John breathed a sigh of relief.

“What were you going to do? Sleep on the floor?” John questioned.

“I want to be by myself,” you breathed, your legs trying to touch the ground.

“You’ve been by yourself enough,” Kyle piqued up. “In that head of yours,” he murmured the last part. You were tossed on the bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. The pit in your stomach only grew, your face hiding itself in the pillows. Johnny flopped down next to you, Kyle following suit. John and Simon remained in the doorway, Simon disappearing towards his room.

You were sandwiched between the two betas, which was all you had wanted the past few weeks. Now you wanted anything else.

“Some forced proximity will do you good,” Kyle sighed, his arm tossed over you and Johnny. You remained silent and still, breathing in the familiar scent of your nest. It smelt like you. No traces of your pack embedded within its fibers. It wasn’t theirs anymore. It was yours.

It was yours.

They were infringing on your territory.

A nasty snarl escaped you, causing both betas to take a scoot back.

“Bonbon?” Johnny breathed. The sound could’ve rivaled an alphas. Their stomach churned, John shifting on his feet. The noise echoing in his brain, his alpha on fight mode. Something had frightened you. His eyes shrunk, looking for a threat.

The air escaping his lungs when he realized.

They were the threats.

He bit the inside of his cheek, his mouth tangy from copper.

“Give ‘er space you two,” he commanded. “Now,” his voice urgent. The betas crawled out slowly, their eyes pleading- their eyes waiting. Waiting for you to whine and usher them back into bed. Pleading for you to seek comfort in them. Instead they got your back, your scent increasing in the air to drown out theirs. John grabbed them both by the arm, pulling them towards the door.

They felt a wave of relief when you stood up, face downcast as you headed towards the door. Johnny extended his arm, ready to meet you in the middle. That was quickly replaced with dread when it shut in their faces.

Hi friends! 👋See you in four days for chapter 38! As always lots of love 🧡

[luminnara]

Traditions | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: As Feyd-Rautha's wife-to-be, you have moved to the Harkonnen homeworld to await your wedding. You're doing your best to adhere to their customs, but when a supposed doctor examines your 'purity,' Feyd-Rautha's reaction is anything but calm.

MASTERLIST

Requests are open! This was one of the first I received for Feyd-Rautha, I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: SA in a medical setting (not graphic but also more than just implied), canon typical violence (also not graphic)

Harkonnen customs were strange.

Harkonnens were strange.

Everything about Giedi Prime felt alien to you—its black sun, bathing the world in infrared; its barren landscape, polluted and abused by years of unbridled industry; and, perhaps most of all, its nobility, the Baron and his his nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“A Harkonnen?” You had choked out when your parents informed had you of the decision. You had been in disbelief, as if reality had come to slap you in the face. All you had ever known was your homeworld and the comforts of the family palace, on a planet that was lush and beautiful. Everything you had ever heard of the Harkonnen homeworld was the opposite—harsh and inhospitable, its people even more so. You had resisted the information initially, refusing to believe that your life was changing so suddenly and so dramatically.

But, ever the dutiful daughter, you stood and met the na-Baron when he arrived, openly staring at his appearance while another Harkonnen introduced him. Feyd-Rautha was extremely pale, his skin nearly white, and, like the rest of the delegation from Giedi Prime, he was hairless. He did not even have eyebrows, and as your father welcomed him to your world, you wondered if he was truly hairless, everywhere.

As your thoughts wandered, the na-Baron’s eyes slid to you, meeting yours. You suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something naughty, the way he looked at you, drinking you in, tilting his head slightly as he appraised you.

“Is the na-Baron pleased with what he sees?” You spoke up in a moment of bravery.

His eyes raked over your body and he smirked, making a rough sound you assumed might be a laugh.

“Oh yes, princess.” His voice was just as harsh as you’d expected. “Very.”

Feyd-Rautha spent a week on your planet, courting you in the ways of your House. He presented you with gifts of refined spice and Harkonnen riches, knives and strangely austere jewelry. He walked with you in the evenings, where you spoke of mundane things, unsure of what you were meant to do in his presence exactly, and he watched you like a hawk hunting a field mouse. When the week was up, you accompanied him back to Giedi Prime to prepare for the wedding, leaving your homeworld behind.

Feyd-Rautha was less well behaved when not surrounded by the members of another House. He was an unsettling, panther-like man, always on the hunt for something to kill…and when you arrived on his planet, you saw that he sometimes killed without abandon, fighting drugged prisoners in a public arena to satisfy his own ego.

You were not sure that you wanted him as your husband—he seemed somewhat disinterested in you, leaving you to the guest chambers you would eventually be moving out of in favor for his bed. Your first week on Giedi Prime was another of courtship, though this time in the ways of his people, and you were honored to witness his fighting prowess in that arena beneath that strange sun. You dined with him and his uncle the Baron Vladimir, a large and unpleasant man, one you could tell your husband-to-be felt no real love towards. Feyd-Rautha simply enjoyed that he would one day take the Baron’s place, and when Vladimir commented on your figure one evening, you saw the way Feyd’s jaw tensed. Perhaps he did want you as his wife, after all.

Another strange Harkonnen custom revealed itself to you toward the end of that week, when a doctor entered your chambers and informed you that your purity was to be inspected.

“My apologies, but…what?” You asked, confused. You had never heard of such a thing. Surely he couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant��?

“We must ensure that none other than the na-Baron have had you, milady.” The man explained. You noticed he sported a gray sash around his middle, and you assumed it was some sort of uniform. “It must be guaranteed that you are untouched, and that the heir you provide will be the na-Baron’s and no one else’s.”

You felt your face grow warm with anger and embarrassment. “Is my word not enough?”

“I’m afraid this is tradition, milady.” He stared at you with intense, beady eyes. “The na-Baron was eager to honor the customs of your House. You do not want him to think you are refusing those of House Harkonnen, do you?”

No, you did not. The last thing you wanted was to anger Feyd-Rautha and potentially drive your future husband even further away from you. You did not want to seem rude, nor did you want to cause a fuss…and you had been examined by doctors before, though perhaps not for this exact reason. You could withstand a few moments of awkward discomfort, you reasoned, if it meant avoiding an unhappy marriage.

“You do not have any instruments,” you noted.

The doctor smiled, revealing the black teeth of the Harkonnens. “Medical instruments are not necessary for this, milady. Please, move to the bed so that I may examine you.”

You rose from your place at the simple table in the center of the room, abandoning your half-eaten breakfast. As you turned, you felt the doctor’s eyes watching you a chill prickled the back of your neck. You needed to relax, you told yourself; if you were expected to produce an heir, there would be many more invasive check ups far stranger than this. You had seen your mother pregnant with your younger siblings, and had heard her speaking with the midwives and Bene Gesserit woman who stalked the halls of the palace back home. Perhaps this was how you could ease yourself into all of that.

When you turned to face the doctor once more, you were relieved to see him standing just as you had left him. His smile unsettled you, but then so did most Harkonnen features, you realized as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Lay back and relax, milady.” He said, approaching you. “This won’t take but a moment.”

-0-

To your surprise, Feyd-Rautha joined you for lunch that day. A servant had been sent ahead to inform you that the na-Baron would be arriving to your chambers shortly, but when he did, you insisted on eating elsewhere. The encounter with the doctor had done more than simply unsettle you—it had rattled your nerves, leaving you feeling angry and confused. Though the man was long gone, you had no desire to remain in that room any longer than you absolutely had to, and lunch could not come early enough.

The na-Baron led you to his own chambers and food was served for you there, at a well-sized table just as austere as the rest of the building’s furniture and decor. He watched as you picked at your food, pushing it around on your plate but hardly eating any, and he took the opportunity to attempt conversation.

“We will be wed soon,” he said.

You wanted to roll your eyes. You were in no mood for small talk, but remembered who exactly you were dealing with and stifled a sigh. “Yes, na-Baron, we will.”

He smirked. “I look forward to the consummation, milady.”

You felt bile rising in your throat. The thought of anyone touching you again at the moment made you sick and angry, and you hated him for his people’s customs.

Feyd-Rautha tilted his head as he looked at you. “Do you not?”

“I am sure it will be everything we hope for and more,” you grumbled, looking down at your plate.

“It is unavoidable,” he growled. “We must produce an heir.”

“And we will!” You snapped, glaring up at him. “And you will be happy to hear that your doctor’s examination went as expected, my lord.”

The venom in your words stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. If Feyd weren’t so busy working through what exactly you had just said, he may have been tempted to bend you over that table just to show you how hard you made him, wedding night be damned…but there were other matters at hand now.

“Doctor?” He asked, eye twitching as his brow furrowed in thought.

“Yes, the one who confirmed that I am, in fact, pure,” you spat, voice laced with pure malice now.

You saw what could only be anger bubbling inside of him as he straightened his shoulders. “How exactly was this achieved?”

“By—by the usual means, I presume,” you said, quickly growing afraid of Feyd-Rautha’s infamous temper should it make an appearance. “He…confirmed that I am…that I have never…”

The na-Baron stood suddenly, knocking in the table in his haste. “Describe him to me.”

“I-I don’t know, he was a doctor!” You stammered. “He looked like every other Harkonnen, I don’t know—“

“What did he wear?”

“A-all black, like everyone here…a sash, a gray sash, around his waist, and he had no instruments—“

“What?” Feyd-Rautha roared, fists slamming down onto the table.

You jumped at the sudden outburst, staring in confusion as he stood. "I apologize if I've upset you, I don't understand why you--"

"Come." he hissed, grabbing your arm roughly and hauling you out of your seat.

You shrieked in surprise, stumbling to keep up as he dragged you out of the room and down the corridor. "Na-Baron, what is the meaning of this?!"

You received no answer. Feyd-Rautha was too angry to speak, shoulders hunched and full of violent tension as he stomped down the halls. Servants and Harkonnen nobles alike scattered upon seeing him, and as you twisted your head to look back at them, you saw them whispering and looking after you with pity on their faces.

"Feyd-Rautha, this is absurd!" you protested.

He came to a halt in front of a door. Though the wait for it to slide open only took a few moments, it felt like agony, and you had nowhere to look aside from the na-Baron's heaving form. You had never seen a person so angry before, so utterly enraged that he was practically incoherent. His silence was frightening, as when the door finally opened, you felt relieved...until he grabbed you once more and brought you inside with him.

The room was full of Harkonnen men, and as they looked to the door in surprise, you realized that you had entered some sort of lounge. You recognized their uniforms as military, and at the sight of their na-Baron, they all immediately stood, saluting him and bowing their heads.

"Which one?" Feyd-Rautha hissed, pulling you to stand at his side.

"What?" you asked, still confused by this entire operation.

"Which man?" he asked, voice strained as if he were holding himself back.

As you looked around at the Harkonnens, whose faces were stoic but whose eyes were frightened, you realized what your almost-husband was asking of you. It was difficult to tell them apart--their pale faces blended into one, their uniforms all nearly identical save for subtle distinctions of rank. Then, an idea; the gray sash you remembered, surely the doctor still wore it? If he were there in the room with you, perhaps you could--

Yes.

There he was.

You recognized his face and your lips pressed into a thin line. Feyd-Rautha, whose eyes had been glued to you, watching your every tiny, minute move, noticed the way your eyes lingered. His lip curled into a sneer as he turned to look at the man, whose comrades had all immediately stepped away, leaving him alone and exposed.

"Captain." the na-Baron's voice was dangerous. It was terrifying. You had never heard another human make a sound so guttural, so animalistic, and yet still manage to form it into a recognizable word.

As the man took a panicked step backwards, Feyd-Rautha stalked toward him. Your future husband smoothly pulled a long knife from a hilt on someone's hip as he passed them by, and you could only stare as the captain was brutalized.

You had never seen such agony.

When Feyd-Rautha was finished with him and the room had finally quieted after the screams died out, he stood from the fresh corpse and turned to you, holding a weapon now dripping with dark blood as he faced you.

"For you," he said simply, sincerely, bowing his head yet never breaking eye contact.

You stared. You had no idea how to react upon witnessing such a barbaric act, one that was sure to play out in your nightmares for weeks to come. When you felt panic rising in your chest you forced it down, and mustered all of the courage you possibly could to say, "Thank you, my lord," and bow your head in return.

He seemed satisfied with this as the knife clattered to the floor and he strode forward to you. "Let us leave."

You agreed wholeheartedly, following him and leaving the other soldiers to collect the pieces of their captain, now strewn across the lounge. Feyd-Rautha held your arm once more as he led you down the corridor, though this time, he was far more gentle. Something had been released from within him, his bloodlust sated and his anger quelled for the moment, and as the reality of what you had just witnessed him do crashed down around you, you stumbled to a halt and doubled over.

"Milady?" he asked, confused, before he turned to see you holding a hand over your mouth as you desperately tried not to be sick. His hands gripped your elbows as he faced you, undeterred by your retching. "What is this? He is dead, there is nothing to--"

"You killed him!" you choked out as you gasped for air, the bile in your throat still threatening to come up.

"Yes," he said, head tilted as he looked at you. "Of course I did. For you, as a gift." Then he paused, thinking. "...Was there another? An assistant?"

"No!" you managed to swallow down the last of the bile, throat burning as you grasped your sweat-slick forehead with your palm. "No, there was only him, but--why would you do such a thing?"

Now he was truly bewildered. "Why wouldn't I kill the animal whose hands touched you before mine?"

"Because...I..." you huffed, glaring at him. "What is going on? What is all of this, over a custom of your people? I did not enjoy his examination by any means, but I am doing everything in my power to accept the customs of House Harkonnen with grace and dignity no matter how awful they are and this entire spectacle has now made that very difficult, na-Baron!"

"House Harkonnen does not practice such a thing," he sneered, eyes angry once more.

Your shoulders dropped in horror. "...Excuse me?"

"That man should never have been within a thousand lengths of you."

"...Oh..." the panic had returned, but now, it felt much worse, and your voice sounded impossibly small. You lowered your hand to your lips, chewing your nail in agitation.

"Do you understand?" Feyd-Rautha asked, still holding your elbows.

"...Yes, I'm afraid I do..."

He leaned in, his forehead meeting yours as he still stared at your eyes. You found his to be a deep, dark blue, an abyss that threatened to swallow you up. But right now, you wouldn't mind such a thing, if it meant you could hide away from the world forever.

"No one will every lay a hand on you." he growled. "No one but me."

"...You killed him for me," you whispered.

"I did."

"You avenged me...yet you did not proclaim your reason in front of those other men?"

"I do not need a reason to take a life," he barked a laugh.

You just nodded.

"And I would not humiliate my wife in such a manner." he straightened once more, letting go of your elbows and offering you his arm once more.

"Thank you," you said as you took it and began walking.

"It does not matter to me if you another man has had you before." he said, staring forward. "I know the children you will bear will be mine."

He said it with an arrogance that may have annoyed you had the situation been different. Now, it was a comfort that he had such a big ego.

"That is correct, na-Baron," you said, sighing in relief. At least the whole ordeal was over now, and you doubted anyone would be foolish enough to cross your path now that one man had already been publicly eviscerated.

"Call me Feyd."

"Thank you," you glanced up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Feyd."

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive

A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.

The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.

-

The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.

"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"

"I'd like to go home, please."

"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"

"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."

"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."

The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

1: PRIYA & JAMIE

MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You love your best friend but you can't find the courage to tell him. It doesn't matter because things are perfect between you... until they aren't. Everything changes the day Bucky introduces you to his new girlfriend.

Word count: 3.1k

Warning: angsty feelings, jealousy, feelings of betrayal, Bucky... Barnes is a warning

Sticks and Stones was your favorite place. Not because of the amazing meals, or the roaring fireplace that made the winter evenings warmer, or even the stone oven that produced the most scrumptious pizzas. No, it was because once a month, you shared a meal with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. You jovially referred to it as date night, the one night you were guaranteed a time alone with your best pal.

Normally when you arrived, you'd find Bucky waiting patiently for you, having ordered his and your favorite drinks. But today, you'd been out in town, enjoying some time off from work and you'd arrived early. You were pleased that for once, you'd be able to return the favor.

"Darling!" Victor, your usual waiter greeted you. "You're here early! Beat Mr Bucky to the punch today! Want me to bring the usual?"

"Yes please, Victor! Thanks!"

You glanced around, making yourself comfortable as you waited for Bucky to arrive. Victor brought your drinks and you couldn't resist taking a sip of the fruity house wine that you always enjoyed. You savored the taste and tingly feeling of it slipping down your throat. There was an instant feel of comfort and familiarity in the setting and you smiled dreamily, lost in the moment.

The time you spent with Bucky was very special to you. When you weren't out risking your lives and watching each other's backs for S.H.I.E.L.D., the two of you tried to spend your free time together. Truth be told, you were harboring feelings of more than simple friendship for the super soldier. The bond you shared was tighter than any other relationship you'd had in the past. But you longed for more and during these ‘dates’ you could imagine that your feelings were reciprocated. It was a tap on your shoulder that brought you back to reality.

"Hey!" Bucky's smiling face popped into your visual field.

"Buck!" You smiled from ear to ear. It was always a comfort to see him. Jumping out of your seat, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Bucky's strong arms wound their way around your waist and your chin snuggled into the nook between his shoulder and neck. As he squeezed you tightly, you noticed someone standing awkwardly behind him.

Gently, you pulled out of your best friend's embrace, smiling at the gorgeous stranger in tight fitting jeans and a perfectly tailored red halter neck blouse. You were slightly star struck by her beauty, she was in appearance, everything you wished you were.

"Hi," you smiled at her. Even though you were impressed by her appearance, something about her presence didn't sit right with you.

"Oh Cricket, this is Priya. Doll, this is Y/N, but we call her Cricket."

Did he just call her Doll? You frowned slightly. That was his nickname for you. The discomfort you had felt intensified.

"Hey, Cricket. It's nice to meet you." Priya offered her hand, which you shook, more as a reflex. "Jamie here has told me so much about you."

"Jamie?" You frowned again, looking at Bucky.

He scratched the back of his head bashfully, chuckling slightly at her pet name for him. "Priya!" Bucky admonished jokingly.

Breathlessly, you watched as he pulled out a chair for this woman to sit down. He was a perfect gentleman. He waved Victor over and grabbed a chair from the table adjacent to you and sat down. "Why’re you still standing?" he asked you.

Wordlessly, you lowered yourself back into your chair, reaching out to your glass of wine and taking a larger than necessary mouthful. This time though there was a searing burning in your chest that was probably nothing to do with the alcohol trickling down your esophagus. 

"So, how do you two know each other?" The words were coming out of your mouth but you had no idea who was controlling it. You also knew that you didn't want to hear the answer.

"Priya’s my girlfriend." Bucky beamed, looking at Priya. He never smiled like this at anyone other than you.

"Jamie and I met four months ago. Right here! I saw him sitting here on his own and I just couldn't let such a handsome man be lonely." Priya ran her fingers through Bucky's hair.

Your mind was reeling at the information that had just been dropped on you and your world felt like it was spinning. You felt a pang of jealousy and sadness as you listened to Priya gush about how she met Bucky. How much alcohol had you drunk? Your mouth felt dry but your eyes burned. Your ears were ringing and everyone suddenly seemed very far away. You tried to smile and act happy for them, but it was hard to hide your true feelings. You wondered how Bucky could have kept this a secret from you for four months. Was he ashamed of you? Did he not trust you? Did he not care about you?

"I… I don't understand. What do you mean you met here?" You stuttered.

"Remember that time you were forced to cancel on me, ‘cause of the last minute mission Steve dragged you on?"

"Yea-" you whispered in answer.

"It was that day." Bucky looked at you.

"So what? You just found an instant replacement?" The words slipped out of your mouth with a lot more spite than you'd intended.

"Of course not, Cricket." Bucky frowned, he wasn't sure what he had expected but this was not the reaction he had imagined from you. "You're my best friend."

"Yeah," you sighed.

Under the table, you found yourself gripping the sides of your chair so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Maybe if you had been given time to emotionally prepare yourself for this introduction, you would have reacted more gracefully than you were doing at this very moment. But the shock of being face to face with Bucky’s girlfriend was so far down on your list of expectations, that you didn’t seem to have any control over your brain or your mouth.

"Aww, Jamie, I thought I was your best friend now," Priya smiled at Bucky, batting her eyelids at him. She slipped her arms around his beefy bicep and leaned in for a kiss.

To your surprise, Bucky laughed and leaned in, engaging in a slow and gag-worthy kiss. You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, you wanted someone to pinch you, to shake you awake from the nightmare you seemed to be stuck in. A dream, that’s what it was, just a bad dream. If you played along, you’d wake up in your bed having fallen asleep beside your best friend watching bad movies all night because he had a nightmare. You didn’t want to be rude or cause a scene either. You also didn’t want to lose Bucky, even if he had already chosen someone else. You loved him too much to let him go.

You plastered a smile across your face, deciding to stay, enduring the torture of watching them be happy together. "Congratulations, Bucky. It’s good that you’ve found someone special." The words sounded forced, at least they did in your mind. Emotionless. You meant what you said, it was good that Bucky had found someone. You just wished that someone was you. He deserved happiness, you just wanted to be the one to give it to him.

You had known all along that you wouldn’t be that person. Every time he had put his arms around you, every time he came to you for comfort after a nightmare, every time you shared a meal, every time those brilliant blue eyes gazed into yours, he had had the opportunity to take things one step further. And as much as you longed for it, that step never came.

Bucky gave you a scrutinizing stare for what felt like an eternity before accepting your words. "Thank you," he smiled, breaking your heart all over again.

"So, Cricket! I assume that's not really your name. How did it come about?"

Bucky laughed, recalling the memory. "Cricket had only been with the team for two months, but she was immediately everyone's conscience. It was almost kinda annoying."

You scowled.

"Come on, Cricket, don't be like that." Bucky smiled at you and it melted the scowl off your face. "Natasha used to call her Jiminy Cricket and it's just stuck."

"And how long have you and James known each other?" Priya asked you.

"It’s been two years," you smiled, the first genuine one since you had seen them together. "But we've been partners for 18 months."

You felt the need to emphasize your closeness with Bucky.

"Wow, James said the two of you were close." She turned to Bucky, directing her question at him. "How come you never mentioned us to her?

Bucky had the decency to look uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between you and Priya but never maintaining eye contact with either of you. Your immediate instinct was to help him out, to ease his discomfort. But the little person inside your brain that often sat on your shoulder with horns on its head asked you why he deserved it. Why had he lied to you for the past four months? What was he trying to hide from you? He was really putting your little crickets through their paces. 

"I just wasn’t ready to share you with anyone else," Bucky answered in his most charming manner.

Priya giggled and you closed your eyes in an effort to keep them from seeing your exasperated eye roll.

"We should order before they close the kitchen. It’s getting late. What do you want?" Bucky asked Priya.

It almost felt like you didn’t exist.

"Want to share a pizza?" she responded.

"Sounds great, Doll!" He smiled at her. "What do you want, Cricket?" 

"Umm, I-" You had no idea what you wanted. Pizza with Bucky was your go to. It had been a while since you’d sampled anything from the menu. "I need to look." You picked up the faux-leather bound booklet with meal options, grateful to be able to hide your face behind it. The last thing you wanted was for Priya or Bucky to see your quivering lip or tear filled eyes.

You only emerged when Victor approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Miss Y/L/N. Would you and Mr Bucky like your usual?"

"No Victor, could I have the cajun pasta please?"

Priya gave hers and Bucky’s orders to Victor who walked away promising only a short wait for your meals. A silence settled over the tablet as you contemplated how Priya took charge of their order. It had taken you a long time to get Bucky to understand that he had autonomy and was allowed to voice his opinions. You always did your best to give Bucky the time to process his decisions and articulate them. You worried that he would lose that. However, Priya used silence as an opportunity to ask you a few more questions.

"So, Cricket. How did you end up joining S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

You shrugged. "Just kinda happened. Sometimes life has a way of pushing you into something unexpected, you just have to make the most of it." You had no desire to share the most painful events in your life with a complete stranger. "And what do you do, Priya?"

"My job isn’t as exciting as yours, I’m afraid. I’m a surgeon."

"She is being modest," Bucky interjected proudly, "She is a kid’s surgeon."

You felt like you were being punched in the gut. You had gone to medical school before you’d joined S.H.I.E.L.D., but life had different plans for you and you’d ended up being recruited to S.H.I.E.L.D. soon after your internship. 

You plastered a smile across your face and delivered the socially acceptable response. "Wow, pediatrics. That’s hard work." 

"Worth it though, when you see the smiles on the kids' faces when they walk out of the hospital."

"I’m impressed that you find the time to date. I can barely find time for myself. Feels like too much hard work!" You forced a laugh from your lips.

"Well, being with James isn’t work at all. In fact, he gives me a reason to leave the hospital."

Bucky blushed. "Thanks, Doll."

Luckily you were spared further awkward conversation by the arrival of your dinner.

"Eat up kids, we’re closing up soon!" Victor boomed.

The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence, Bucky and Priya exchanging some small talk as you poked and prodded at the food on your plate. Their honeymoon phase was sickening and all you wanted was to leave.

Closing time came around eventually, although not as soon as you would have liked.

"Darling, what's the matter? You didn't like pasta?" Victor came to clear your plates and usher you out of the establishment.

"It was really good, just a bit spicy." You blushed while telling the lie, your inner cricket screaming at you. 

"Next time we'll make sure you can eat it all then." Victor smiled at you kindly. 

You felt terrible, but you didn't want anyone to see how upset you really were, especially Bucky. Not that he would notice, he was too busy draping his jacket over Priya’s shoulders. It didn’t mean very much to you at that moment, but the second you stepped outside, you realized that your evening wasn’t going to get any better. Bucky’s bike was parked right outside and you understood what that meant.

"Cricket, we’ll see you back at the compound!" Bucky smiled, leading his girlfriend to the bike with his hand at her back. "Don’t want to get caught in the rain."

You nodded mutely, watching them speed away. When you had asked Nat to drop you off in town, it had been with the intention that you would catch a ride back with Bucky, as you always did. You were left standing on the curb in a sundress and a light jacket. It had been a warm day for late October, but as the sun had set, thunder clouds had rolled in and Thor’s distant cousins were making a ruckus in the distance and seemed to be heading in your direction. The notion that you could walk home was something you entertained for a total of two seconds, as your heel got stuck in a grate on the sidewalk. You sighed heavily as a couple of raindrops splashed on your shoulder.

Pulling out your phone, you tapped on the local transportation apps, but there were no cabs to be seen. Not that anyone would be willing to drive you out into the country at this time in the evening. There was only one choice left, you needed to call one of your friends to pick you up. Resigned to an awkward conversation, you scrolled through your phone for someone to contact.

Nat… no, she wasn’t around. Sam… no answer. Steve… the phone rang a couple of times, before a sleepy voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Steve, were you sleeping?" you asked, anxiously.

"No," came his dishonest answer.

"I’m sorry, go back to sleep." You hated imposing on people and knowing that you had woken Steve from what was probably much needed slumber, made you felt terrible.

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, it’s okay, Steve." What were you thinking? Why were you not asking for a lift?

"Cricket."

"Could you please pick me up from town?" you asked, in a small voice.

Steve sat up in bed, your voice drowned out by a loud crack of thunder. "Wait, aren’t you with Bucky?"

"No, Buck-" you weren’t sure how much Steve knew about Bucky’s girlfriend. "I’m not with Bucky. He’s busy."

"With Priya?"

So Steve knew. Naturally. Steve was Bucky’s family, of course he would tell him before he told you. A tear dropped down from your eye as you nodded. "Yeah," you whispered, realizing that Steve couldn’t actually see you.

"I’m sorry. Give me half an hour, I’m coming."

"Thanks, Steve."

You hung up the phone and looked around. The street was deserted and everything felt so much darker than before. The rain, which had been falling lightly, started coming down more heavily, seeping into your thin clothes and making you shiver. The tears that were now pouring down your face were practically indistinguishable from the raindrops. This felt like the perfect ending for how you felt about your day.

True to his word, Steve arrived in twenty eight minutes. And you sunk into the passenger seat of his car looking like a bedraggled rat. He didn’t ask you any more questions, for which you were grateful. Wordlessly, he slipped off his hoodie and offered it to you. You took it, pulling the soft material over your head, thankful for the warmth it provided. The hood covered your eyes and you did nothing to move the wet strands of hair that were plastered across your face. It took all your self control to not start sobbing in the car with Steve. Luckily for you, Steve turned up the seat warmer on your seat and focused solely on the road as he started the journey back to the compound.

When he eventually pulled into the garage, Steve yanked up the parking brake, turned off the ignition and jumped out before you had the chance to unfasten your seat belt. He opened the door for you and you got out reluctantly. A feeling of dread washed over you. What if Bucky and Priya saw you like this? They were already here, you had immediately spotted Bucky's bike in the corner. You knew he had brought Priya back to the compound because Bucky hadn’t bothered to store his spare helmet, and he would have secured it if he had ridden home alone. A horrifying image of them having sex invaded your mind for a moment, but Steve’s voice distracted you.

"Come on, I'll walk you back to your room." Steve offered you a hand to help you out of the car.

"I'm sorry for making you come out to get me. I should have taken my car. I just thought-"

"It's okay. Let's go." Steve said kindly, wrapping his arm around you, offering his support and warmth. He stopped right outside your bedroom door. "Do you need anything?" he asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you," you muttered in his ear.

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Good night."

Neither of you noticed Bucky returning from the kitchen with two glasses in his hands, watching you and Steve from the shadows.

MASTERLIST > Next chapter

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.7k wc. ﾉ suggestive ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ fwb!suna ﾉ miya twins appearance :3

there’s no way you could miss that annoyingly familiar pattern of knocks at your door—you only know because you tried. it was foolish to think they’d go away on their own, after all, the one behind them can be just as irritating.

with a heavy, dramatic groan that you hope is audible from the hallway of your apartment complex, you toss your phone on the coffee table and begrudgingly pad over to the door. pulling it open is the only way to put a stop to the rhythmic banging. an equally annoying smirk painted on suna’s face greets you at the threshold.

“if i didn’t know any better,” he sticks his hands in his pockets, a sparkle of mischief shining in his eyes, “i’d think you were ignoring me.”`

you send him a smile, one that you’d use on a coworker you don’t like but have to be civil with. “believe me, i tried.”

“yet you opened the door anyway,” he retorts, squeezing past you and into your apartment. for someone you barely consider a friend, he sure is comfortable barging in. you can’t find it in you to care, so you simply close the door and turn to face him. he’s looking at you with that same smug expression. “sounds like you can’t resist my charm.”

you snort. charming isn’t the first word that comes to mind when you think of suna, hell, it’s not even very far up on the list. you suppose you have to give him some credit, though. even if you can’t put your finger on what it is, you can admit that there’s something about him that you find appealing. otherwise, you would have called that first night with him a one-time deal. “why are you back so soon? is your sex drive really that high?”

he raises his brows at your thinly veiled suggestion. “i’m actually here to get my hoodie but if you had other ideas, i wouldn’t be op-”

“just get your jacket and go.” you shove his chest with both of your hands before you slap the palms to your cheeks that are quickly warming in embarrassment. suna chuckles but holds back from teasing you any further, instead making his way down the hall to retrieve his forgotten garment. it’s a little ridiculous how acquainted he is with your apartment, you think as you watch him push open the door to your bedroom.

maybe you should start meeting at his place more often.

no, that would be weird. having one designated meeting area is the only thing keeping your relationship so casual. he’d definitely take it the wrong way if you asked for a change of scenery and as much as you give him shit, you don’t want to part ways with suna so soon.

another set of knocks, one much more calm and expected, breaks you from your reverie. you spin on your heel and pull your thumb nail from between your teeth in favor of answering the door. on the other side stand the twins.

“hey,” osamu greets you with the raise of his hand.

you return the greeting with a silent wave.

“what are you doing here?” atsumu asks.

your eyes flit over to the blonde. “funny thing, ‘tsumu, i actually live here.”

“not you, smartass.” he fights the urge to roll his eyes, instead choosing to tip his chin up in a silent gesture. “him.”

you turn to look over your shoulder where atsumu’s gaze falls to find suna standing behind you, hoodie in hand. your eyes widen and your shoulders jerk up in surprise. it’s not that you had forgotten he was here, rather, you didn’t anticipate the three men crossing paths.

as far as the twins knew, you only ever came in contact with suna through them. to see the two of you together—alone—surely must have presented as suspicious. the last thing you want right now is to explain your relationship with him.

you angle your head to face the twins with what you hope is a composed and convincing expression. “oh, we have the same psychology class.” that much is true. “he came over so we could work on an assignment together.” that? not so much.

it seemed to be enough to appease the twins but you can hear suna’s terribly concealed laughter from behind you. it takes everything in you not to jab your elbow into his ribs. to stop yourself from doing so, you announce his leave. “anyways, we’re finished and he was just on his way out.”

a few seconds pass but suna makes no move to leave.

you meet his eye with a sickly sweet smile. “aren’t you leaving?”

“i was,” he starts, and you can tell that the rest of his statement won’t be doing you any favors,“ but it looks like you guys are hanging out. can i stay?”

the two of you haven’t done anything with the twins since you started shacking up and you aren’t confident in suna’s ability to keep that bit to himself. he needs to go. “we’re just watching a movie. and it’s atsumu’s turn to choose so it’ll probably be awful.”

“hey!” the blonde shouts and you’re sure you can hear osamu snort.

you ignore atsumu’s petulant display, staring down suna in hopes that your unyielding gaze is enough to get your message across. he shrugs. “i don’t mind.”

there’s no way he’s this slow-witted; he’s got to be toying with you. pushing any further would only be more suspicious, so you cave and agree. “fine.”

an hour and a half—two hours, max, you think as you watch the bag of microwave popcorn rotate in the appliance. and you’ll be focused on the movie. it’s not like your catching up over lunch or anything. you doubt there’ll even be an opportunity for either of you to drop the ball. yeah, it’ll be fine.

at least, that’s what you think before you see how the three have decided to seat themselves on the couch. you’re used to sitting in between the twins—they both insist that they can’t sit next to each other. as strange as it is, you’ve never questioned it. though, you did think that suna would be enough of a buffer between the two.

apparently, they’d be using both of you to widen the gap. you bite your cheek to hold back a sigh as you situate yourself between suna and osamu, setting the movie snack on your lap.

atsumu says something about you eating your words before starting the film but all you can focus on is how suna scoots closer to you. you stick your hand in the bowl of popcorn, hoping the movement makes the way you gravitate toward osamu more discreet. your eyes are glued to the screen but you can feel suna’s on you.

there’s half of the movie left when you let your guard down. suna’s been awfully quiet and the twins’ periodic bickering lightens the once tense atmosphere. you’re almost back to your completely relaxed state when you feel a weight on your right shoulder—the side suna’s sitting on.

you (thankfully) can’t turn your head to face him so you settle for looking at him out of the corner of your eye. you can’t see much, but you’re sure that his eyelids are drifting closed. through a whisper, you ask, “what are you doing?”

“this movie’s boring,” he mumbles, the whisper of his words distorted because of the way his cheek is pressed to your shoulder. you can practically feel his pout against you and if you weren’t in the company of others, you might have considered bringing your hand up to stroke his hair.

“i told you it wouldn’t be good,” you murmur, turning your gaze back to the tv. if you looked at him any longer, you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself and the heat radiating from him isn’t helping either. you chew the inside of your cheek as you think up a way to get out of your current position. “just say you’re tired and head out early.”

without paying your suggestion any mind, suna shamelessly asks, “can’t we just go to your room?”

“what?” you struggle to keep your voice low at the nonchalance of his question. “have you lost your mind?”

“god, your mind is so dirty today.” you can hear the humor in his voice despite how quiet it is. if you could see him, you’re sure he’d be eyeing you with that dumb, annoying smirk. “i just meant to sleep.”

the combination of his initial proposal and his explanation light your cheeks and the tips of your ears on fire. it’s frustrating that he’s able to fluster you so easily. although, a little part of you, one that you’re trying and failing to bury deep down, actually likes it. once the embarrassment lingering behind the warmth fades, you’re left with a feeling you have trouble putting a name to.

if you had to guess, it was something like yearning.

you shake away the thought from your head. your mind shouldn’t be wandering there—not here, not now. you quietly clear your throat before whispering, “we’re not going anywhere together. just hush and watch the movie.”

to your surprise, the man only hums.

by the time the movie comes to an end, suna is sound asleep on your shoulder. you should just nudge him awake, walk him out the door with the twins, but you can’t seem to move. it’s a bad idea, staying put, but you can’t help but think this is the least you could do after trying to run him out all night.

“you guys can go,” you tell the two of them. “i’ll wake him up in a bit.”

they take their leave, no questions asked.

the two only make it five steps from your door before osamu blurts, “they’re totally fucking.”

a grimace overtakes atsumu’s expression. “gross.”

thanks for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment :) much love from me 2 u &lt;3

[endieinwonderland]

Let The Light In: Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Words: 1,598

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so in the wrong, angst no comfort.

“Is that Paige Bueckers?” The guy sitting next to you nudges your elbow, his eyes glued to your computer screen. 

He didn’t need to ask you to confirm that it was her, given the massive ‘5’ on her jersey and those unmistakable blonde braids. But you indulge him anyways, turning back to the screen of your laptop as if you need to double check who’s picture you’re editing, before giving him an affirmative hum and re-focusing your attention on the exposure curve that’s been giving you trouble all morning. 

Seemingly unbothered by your lackluster reply, he leans closer, letting out a sharp whistle as he gets a better view. “Damn, that’s good. You take it?” 

“All mine.” You reply hastily, reaching over to pat the camera bag next to you.

“Are you on the media team or something then?”

You just nod, casting a quick glance in his direction while his eyes stays fixated on the image of the girl on your screen until you swear you can see drool forming in the corners of his mouth. 

“You know this should go up on the posters they have around campus” he says, finally leaning back into his chair. 

It’s almost like he knows that stroking your ego is surefire way to get you to soften up. 

You turn to him, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “If you think that you should go check them out next week. There might be a few changes you'll like.”

An impressed look passes briefly over his face before returning to a cocky smirk. “You know, you’re doing her a favor. She looks way hotter in this than the ones that are up right now.”  

Guard all the way back up, you turn to him, doing very little to hide your disgust. Without a word, you scoop up your belongings and move to another spot, eager to distance yourself far, far away from him.

Your new spot is near a window, which you’d normally avoid since you need to see your computer screen clearly while editing, and sunlight wouldn’t help with that. However, when a blonde woman walked by, hand in hand with her toddler who was clearly fighting off sleep with a blankie draped over her shoulders, you couldn't resist the urge to get as closer to the all-too-familiar scene.

----

"Hey, you awake?” Paige's voice is barely audible over the soothing hum of the air conditioner. You’re half asleep, nestled comfortably beneath the blankets, and all you can manage is a low, affirmative hum in response.

"I can't sleep," she whispers again, this time poking your cheek to ensure you’re paying attention. 

"Count sheep.” 

A loud groan echoes through the bedroom as Paige turns over to face you. 

“We should do something." 

You pretend not to hear her, keeping your eyes shut. 

“Wake up, wake up, wake up” she intones, pulling the covers off your chest as she sits up in the bed. 

"Let's go for a drive."

You peek one eye open, glaring at her. "Paige I love you but, please, for the love of God, just let me sleep." She keeps her mouth shut, but you can feel her gaze on you as you pull the covers back over yourself. 

After two blissful minutes of silence, a soft "please" brings you back to consciousness. Opening your eyes fully now, you stare at her.

"Paige, I'm really tired." 

"I'll let you have the aux, and you can bring your blanket," she offers, nudging your shoulder gently, trying to coax you out of bed.

With narrowed eyes, you meet her gaze, her face is illuminated by the moonlight streaming through your open blinds. With just that one glance, any remaining sibilance of a resolve is shattered.

"An hour tops, and if I fall asleep again, you can't wake me up until we're home." 

A soft smile crosses her face. "Deal." 

Before you really know what’s happening Paige has an arm wrapped around you, practically skipping as she drags you, half asleep and wrapped in a quilt, through the parking lot to her car. She turns your seat heater on, connects your phone to the speakers, and lets you choose a playlist before pulling out onto the main road, interlocking your fingers, and letting your hands rest on the center console.

"Dude, come on, really?" she groans as your sleep playlist begins and the sounds of an artificial rainstorm flood the car. 

"I'm going back to sleep," Is all you can manage to say in your fatigued state, leaning your head against the window and shutting your eyes once again. 

You don’t wake up again until sunlight has begun to shine through the trees lining highway, urging you to peek your eyes open. The gentle shake of the car almost lulling you back to sleep before you realize where you are. 

"Paige, you've got to be kidding me," you groan out after catching a glance at the 6:45 A.M. flashing on the car’s dashboard. She looks at you briefly, a sheepish expression passing over her face. "You're awake." 

“I am.” You respond, not hiding your irritation.  “Where the hell are we, Bueckers?" You ask turning to look at her, but as your eyes briefly meet hers, a soft “Oh” escapes your lips, and suddenly, where you are doesn't matter anymore. 

With your camera, you could have captured every detail—the way the morning light seemed to dance across her blonde hair, the delicate shadows her eyelashes threw across her under-eyes, mingling with the dark circles from a restless night. She looks beautiful.

It could be the best picture you'd ever taken of her. - And if you hadn’t been so clueless and absorbed in your art, you’d probably be paying a lot more attention to the miserable expression across your best friends face instead of the light that was hitting her perfectly.

"Wait, hold still," you whisper, your tone softening as you reach for your phone and point the camera at her. “Just let me get this shot.”

____

It takes a few seconds for you to dig your phone out of the bottom of your backpack where it had been left it in a now futile effort to prevent distractions. Once you find it you waste no time, opening the favorites album in your camera roll, holding up the image from that morning next to the one on your laptop. 

‘Oh’

Side by side, the pictures are nearly identical. 

Without realizing it, the two of you had recreated on of the last pictures you had taken of her before the two of you stopped talking, before she stopped talking to you. 

In this new version, a stark black backdrop replaced blurry trees seen through a car window, and artificial orange and pink lights substituted the natural sunlight. In each image, her expression remained unchanged—those firm glares and pursed lips staring back at you from both screens. A heaviness settled in your chest as you set the phone aside and shut down Lightroom.

‘I’m not doing this right now.’

It was undeniable that you still missed her, even though the two of you had barely spoken in the past year. And despite all of your friends telling you that you should be furious at her for essentially ghosting you, your feelings hadn't changed. 

Pure, unbridled misery. That’s the only way to really describe it.

The day you realized your best friend wasn’t ever going to respond to the 20+ ‘read’ texts and missed calls from your attempts to reach her was one of the worst days of your life. 

----

Paige had just gotten the OK to return to campus after her ACL surgery, you had been on your way to try and visit her when Azzi had knocked on your dorm room door. 

“Oh, were you on your way out?” She had questioned, seeing your outfit and the purse in your hands. 

“I was gonna go check up on Paige I heard she was back.” Pausing before you add, “actually I’ve been meaning to ask if you had heard from her? She hasn’t gotten back to me yet and I’ve called like a million times.” You ask, forcing a chuckle to mask the stress bubbling beneath your words.

Azzi's expression hardens, her eyes avoiding yours. "Listen," she begins, her voice heavy, "that's actually what I came to talk to you about."

"Oh?" Your voice rises slightly, a mix of confusion and apprehension.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "Paige doesn’t want you reaching out to her right now. She just needs to focus on getting healthy again."

"Oh." The word escapes your lips softly, tinged with hurt and disbelief, as the weight of her words settles in your chest.

----

The memory fades but the unmistakable hurt is still coursing through you as you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself breathe.

It had been a mistake to let your guard down.

“You good?”

The voice you’ve been longing to hear for the past year interrupts your thoughts, sending a familiar pang through your chest as you look up, locking eyes with the blonde, her brows raised as she looks down on you with an unreadable expression. 

[mossyvil]

Bestie you are SO right about vil and him being a caring bf. And I'm not being biased as a vil yume or anything, even when I first got introduced to him and his character during book 5, I saw literally nothing wrong with the advice Nad critique he gave to epel and everyone else— he's always very reasonable and makes a point, blunt and without sugarcoating sure, but sometimes people need to have that sort of bluntness to realize that something is lacking or that they have potential that they're wasting!!

Vil is attentive but he's also able to be understanding! He never imposed a lifestyle on anyone unless they truly needed it or unless it would help with something that requires it (eg: during the VDC when he made a more healthy diet plan when they camped in Ramshackle. Petty teenage resistance aside, they did need less sugar and such so that they wouldn't be lethargic or even exhausted because of too much blood sugar!!)

And goodness dare I say he would be very delighted and amused if his lover returns the favor? Doting on him as well, making his favorite meals, memorizing what he likes and doesn't like when it came to food or skincare or media or anything, having the same attention being directed at him, basically. I just think that it would be very reassuring for him to know that his partner appreciated his doting as much as he cared about giving it. Vil my beloved......

i absolutely agree with u bestie!! vil is blunt but i think he just doesn’t know how else to phrase what he’s thinking tbh. like i doubt anyone in the film or beauty industry was being very conscious of his feelings growing up so it’s all he knows but it really does come from a place of genuine care!! and he never says anything he knows can’t be changed easily, he never wants to hurt anyone he just wants to help them better themselves.

he isn’t too worried about accidentally upsetting his partner with his words, he really does think through what he says before he says it and he also expects you to be comfortable telling him if it bothers you (whether you actually are comfortable doing that is another thing), but he does feel reassured when you do the same for him. he’s had managers and people to look out for him before, but it’s not out of actual care for him like it is with you. it warms his heart knowing that you show your care for him in a way he really understands. soft vil is everything to me

[meowzfordayz]

"fake" date — mitsuri, kyojuro, sanemi, giyuu

Author’s Note: initially planned to write a Giyuu x Reader one shot for this trope, but enough ppl voted for Hashira preferences that my plans changed. 😉 Pls and ty enjoy ~shorter snippets for Mitsuri, Kyojuro, and Sanemi + something a lil more fleshed out for Giyuu. 🤗 Varying degrees of angst ahead!

“fake” date — mitsuri, kyojuro, sanemi, giyuu

Kanroji Mitsuri x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~1,900

CW: explicit language, mild sexual content

~faqs~

“You look amazing!” Mitsuri gushes, eyes wide with their usual shimmer.

You step sheepishly through your bedroom doorway into the hall where she waits, stare fixed firmly on your sock clad feet.

“Aren’t you going to be cold though?” her voice dips with concern, “I’m sure they’d understand if you wore thicker socks. They’ll be covered by your shoes anyway.”

“I mean,” you shrug, finally glancing up at the warmth in her face that you’ve felt since the day you met, “The ceremony and reception are inside. I can survive in these from the Uber to the entrance.”

Grinning teasingly, she strides over to you, tugging on your overcoat with familiar care, “I don’t know, someone’s feet are always freezing when we watch movies together.”

“And someone else is a blanket hog,” you huff, mesmerized by the delicate imprint of her fingertips — that you know are just as capable of grabbing and tossing you over her shoulder.

Well I like when you snuggle closer to me she almost declares, cheeks reddening as she ducks her head aside, feigning an itchy nose.

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to come?”

The quiver of fear restricting her words coaxes you in, hand mindlessly grabbing hers as you nod reassuringly.

“Of course! They gave me a plus one. I guarantee I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I showed up alone.”

“So I’m doing you a favor?”

Her question tremors with the faintest of insincerity. You ignore it. It’s understandable, after all. Weddings are cumbersome and awkward and often far too fanciful.

“Absolutely, Mitsuri! I owe you one. And you look beautiful too!”

You’re still holding her hand, clammy and comforting as ever.

—

Her heart aches as she watches you stand in line, tiny buffet plate balanced lazily on your palm, overhead lights bathing you in a soft, unbearable glow.

And you look beautiful too!

She licks her lips, wishing she could ask you to dance.

I owe you one.

Wishing she could ask you to dance, and that you would finally realize what she was really promising.

“So… you’re asking me to go to your family’s Thanksgiving as your date, but not actually your date?”

Kyojuro hopes he doesn’t sound too disappointed, well acquainted with masking his simmering feelings beneath an exterior of exuberance and forwardness.

“Mhm,” you nod, resisting the urge to bite down on your tongue.

You’d love if not-actually-your-date was actually-your-date, but you’d hate even more to ruin your years of ease and friendship.

“But they know we’re friends?”

His head cocks with faux confusion, and you nearly coo at his cuteness. To you, his confusion isn’t pretend — you yourself aren’t entirely sure how you’re going to convince your nosy family members.

“Friends can get close,” you wink playfully, nudging his bicep as if to prove your point.

“How close are we talking?” Kyojuro quips, nudging you back harder.

He relishes in getting to steady you, warm hands wrapping large and protective around your shoulders, righting you before you keel too far off balance.

“Are you going to help your friend out or what?” you scowl jokingly, dramatically brushing your shoulders, knowing you’re going to feel the heat and strength of his touch for hours.

“Of course I’m going to help you! I just-”

His eyes widen involuntarily, and you notice that they stir a peaceful longing in you more deeply than any sunset ever has.

“You just?” you prod, pulse quickening at the prospect of something else.

What else, you have no idea. But sunlight slips through the crack nonetheless.

“Nothing,” Kyojuro grunts, “I forgot!”

You exhale slowly, emotions unfurling as you return to your soft, sunsetless reality.

“Alrighty then.”

“We’re not gonna fool anyone into thinking we’re dating,” Sanemi grimaces, brow furrowed as you take in his reaction.

“And why not?” you retort, arms crossed as you glare back, “The only person who knows you better than me is Genya. Maybe.”

And nobody knows me better than you.

Eyes darting from your lips to your glare, he sighs, jaw tight as he mutters, “Because we’ve never even kissed. What kind of couple, what kind of chemistry, would we have?”

You’re grateful he rambles on, because you almost quip So let’s kiss dumbass.

“Terrible chemistry,” he answers himself, “We would have terrible chemistry. If you really need a date to that holiday party, then you should ask Obanai.”

“OBANAI?!” you screech, too fixated on his horrible plan B to notice his pre emptive wince, a beat before you’d actually processed his suggestion, “You mean a man who’s already in a relationship?!!!”

“Yeah,” Sanemi deadpans, “Low risk.”

He hopes you can’t see how deeply his foot is inserted into his mouth.

“What the hell does that mean?” you hiss, “I sure as fuck haven’t kissed him!”

“Mitsuri would probably be amendable.”

He hopes you can’t hear him choking on his foot, gasping for air.

“To me kissing her boyfriend?!”

Ah shit.

“I’ll do it!”

That shuts you up. You blink, mind blank as you stare at him staring at you staring at him. His hair looks nicer than usual, fluffy with a light scent of dampness as though he’d showered prior to coming over. And his gaze, so strikingly mellow — drenched in lavender and longing. No you correct yourself, the longing is in your own unwavering expression, reflected in the glassiness of his pupils, mirroring the tension in your shoulders.

“Do what?” you murmur Kiss me?

And he nearly does, feet planted firmly on the worn tile of your kitchen, chest heaving as the weight of your question clings to his lungs. He nearly does. Nearly kisses your sarcastic tongue, the hazy drop of your eyelids, the way your body seems to lean toward him as he teeters toward you. Nearly.

“I’ll be your stupid date,” he mumbles.

“You are stupid,” you smile weakly, abruptly shifting your attention to your now lukewarm mug of tea Takes one to know one.

“I don’t understand,” Giyuu says, spine stiffening as he sits on your couch, “You want us to… fake, date?”

Of all the favors you could ask him for, why did it have to be a fake date? He would happily give you a real date, thank you very much.

“Not like! More than once! Just once! For my family reunion! They’re awful and boring and everyone older than like, fifty, asks me if I’m seeing anyone. My answer is always no and their response is always harassment and I…” you trail off, suddenly conscious of your rambling, cheeks hot as you mumble, “I care about my family and I want to attend, but I don’t want to be alone.”

I don’t want to be lonely.

“Have you ever thought that you could be the problem?”

You gape at your best friend, well accustomed to his poorly worded concern, but flabbergasted by his lack of tact regardless.

“GIYUU!”

He winces at your exclamation, quickly backtracking when he notices just how shiny your eyes are getting.

“I’m sorry, I know, that’s not what I meant,” he swallows thickly, fingers in knots in his lap as his mouth twists, “Will we need a backstory? A photo album of our entanglement thus far? Or will it be our first date?”

“Well,” you chew on your bottom lip, struck by his thoughtfulness, clammy at the realization that you wouldn’t need to create a fake photo album because your camera roll is mostly you and him anyway, “Most people don’t take their partner to a family reunion as their first date.”

“Unless they don’t like them and are trying to scare them away,’ Giyuu deadpans, wry glint in his gaze.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just not date them?” you drawl, apprehension subsiding as amusement bubbles.

“Are you trying to scare me away?” he quips, legs crossing and then uncrossing as his posture slowly relaxes, “Because I’ll play the part,” gut roiling even as his heart urges him forward, “In the name of our friendship, I shall gladly date you,” releasing the tip of his tongue from the clench of his teeth, “Just once.”

You cheer exaggeratedly, hands clapping together loudly, foot bumping against his thigh from your end of the couch. He doesn’t seem to register your touch, distracted by your palpable relief, the disappearance of the stress crinkles at your temples, drowning in the sensation of What have I done?

—

If there’s one thing he’s grateful for, it’s the fact that you invited him to an arguably lackadaisical event. Not because Giyuu loathes wearing a suit and tie, but because he’d likely lose the ability to articulate himself reasonably were you to be dressed up. He’s seen you in nice attire, sure, but never as your fake date; never under circumstances so close to the sun — positively burning in its radiance.

“Your parents,” he stops mid stride, front door to your aunt’s house looming despite its normal dimensions, “Won’t they-”

“They know, they know,” you interrupt, practically shushing him, pushing your impending panic to the bottom of your stomach as you nudge him along, “They won’t tell on us.”

Tell on us the wording sits sour in his mouth, eager to lessen your burden and lonesome, yet resentful of its restrictions and underlying truth of the matter.

“Hey,” he murmurs, puffing out a wisp of hesitation before swiveling to face you, “You’re going to be fine, I won’t let you down.”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, the gesture more intimate than he intended, your heartbeat bumbling frantic and stunned in your throat.

“O-okay,” you manage to croak, rooted in place until he carefully tugs you back into action  I know that.

Or maybe he meant to steal your breath away?

—

Giyuu is awkward. So awkward that your overwhelming anxiety gradually fades to the background as you watch him interact with your family. You can’t tell whether it’s accidental or on purpose, but he’s doing a great job at simultaneously alarming and charming your aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, once-removed-s, etc. His stubborn decorum and distaste for small talk make for an interesting clash of bound-by-honor and get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here, his introversion rearing its head every time he abruptly walks away mid sentence.

“What are you doing?” you giggle, poking his shoulder with mirthful fondness.

“I got bored, so I moved on,” he shrugs, nagging discomfort spurning him on to clarify, “But I only do that with conversations! Not with relationships!”

Not with you.

You snort, endeared by the flustered pink of his ears, “I know babe, not with relationships.”

He supposes your suggestive eyebrow waggle is meant to be teasing—a playful nod to the fakeness of it all—but he’s stuck on Babe, jaw twitching as you intertwine your fingers with his in an electrifying, wonderful, horribly casual manner.

“How about we check out the charcuterie board?” you grin, pecking his earlobe so softly that he wonders if you’d practiced the night before.

Perhaps on your wrist or your pillow, or the fogginess of your mirror after showering.

—

He follows you to the spread of food and beverages, unable to discern the excited, acheful, longing quiver in your step, too caught up in the same tremor of his own.

—

If the night ends with a bittersweet, we-would-never-dare, okay-well-I-guess-we-dared, This was fun, Fuck I hate this kiss… then that’s nobody’s business.

[sollis-occasum]

there is a light that never goes out - anakin x queen!reader x sith!obi-wan (part 1 of 5)

summary: When your first love, Obi-Wan Kenobi, gave in to the temptations of the dark side and joined the Sith Order, you thought there was no hope for your people. However, a message from a friend you thought was dead would reignite the fire of rebellion in your heart.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, unrequited love, blood, mentions of execution, mentions of death, mentions of biological weapons, reader is a corrupt politician (actually this is a little bit complicated)

word count: 4.2k

a/n: My story takes place in an alternative universe where Obi-Wan has turned to the dark side and Anakin has formed a resistance with the Jedi who survived Order 66 (I know Obi is a comfort character for most of us but sith!obi-wan is too attractive to not write about. What can i do? I'm just a girl) He will be in story in part 2. Also, as i said before, English is not my first language. I'm sure i made many mistakes. I hope you don't mind guys. I love you ♡

If there was one thing your people and your friends in the Imperial Senate knew for sure about you, it was that you had no intention of wasting your precious time rebelling against Lord Sidious, perhaps the most evil being the galaxy had seen in thousands of years.

Of course, it wasn’t because you had sympathy for the ugly old man or supported his fascist ideas that favored the human race. In fact, even during those unfortunate times when thousands of senators from all over the galaxy were ready to worship the Chancellor and the Separatists were on the rise, you were secretly proud of yourself for not falling under his influence—something you would rather attribute to your own intelligence than to the other senators being fools blinded by their lust for power.

Yes, deep down you didn’t recognize Palpatine’s empire and still held onto your loyalty to the Republic, but in your situation it didn’t matter. As a queen, you were one of the best at understanding how dangerous a game politics is, and you played by the rules for the good of your people. Up until that day, you had given the Emperor everything he asked of you without even bargaining. You had allowed him to change your government and install his own men, accepting the heavy taxes he demanded, and allowing him to build the weapons factories and experimental laboratories he wanted, even if it meant destroying the entire ecosystem of your planet. You had made all the sacrifices expected of you, until there was nothing left to sacrifice.

You knew that when your people looked at you, they saw not their beloved queen but one of Palpatine's puppets. To them, you were nothing more than a traitor who had betrayed the great royal family and the glorious history of your planet for thousands of years. You ignored the misery of your people in order to protect your crown and continued your luxurious life in your palace.

If only they knew how wrong they were...

You never had the courage to oppose the emperor until that day because you knew what fate awaited the people who opposed Palpatine's rule. You had seen systems falling apart, planets being invaded, and senators being executed mercilessly in front of their people. You couldn't let the people under your protection face this fate! The Emperor might have carelessly destroyed everything beautiful on your planet, but he wouldn't be able to destroy your people.

For this purpose, you would play the role of the corrupted politician your people had assigned to you in the most professional way, and you would make all the sacrifices you had to make to protect your people from Lord Sidioud's wrath until the end of your life. You didn't have the luxury of playing revolutionist. At least, that was what you believed to be right at the time.

However, in dark times, people change, and so do beliefs. A message sent to you by someone you least expected, at a time you least expected, had also initiated this change.

Using the information in the message secretly delivered to you by an old and neglected droid, whichg you had no idea how he had entered your palace, you managed to open a communication channel, allowing a hologram very close to a human size to appear in front of you.

The man had wavy hair that almost reached his shoulders, and his shoulders were slumped as if he were crushed under the weight of carrying the responsibility of the entire galaxy. He was wearing an old cloak with blood stains on it. The parts of his body that you could see were also covered in blood and wounds. He stood determined and upright, but there were traces in his eyes that even the static hologram image could not hide. Traces of sadness and despair. The owner of this hologram was someone you knew very well: The man in front of you was your old friend Anakin Skywalker.

Thank God, the droid resisted opening the message on the holoprojector in your throne room. Otherwise, you had no idea how you would explain this reaction to those around you. You started to walk back slowly, as if there was an assassin ready to kill you, not a hologram in front of you, and eventually you tripped and fell in your seat. Even though you covered your mouth with your hand in terror, your eyes could not hide your fear and surprise. You took deep breaths as if they could comfort you, but no matter what you did, you could not slow down your rapidly beating heart.

"But how is that possible?" you muttered in a voice you could barely hear. "That's impossible! You-you were dead, Anakin. Obi-Wan killed you."

Anakin, who somehow managed to hear you, smiled sadly and protested, "No, your majesty." "As you can see, I'm still alive. I would love to tell you about my experiences, but..."

"Shut up!" you shouted with a deep anger that came from deep within you to stop the man in front of you. Deep down you knew you were being irrational, but wasn't this situation you were in already irrational enough? Besides, the fact that an old friend you had been mourning for years suddenly appeared before you as if nothing had happened should have given you the right to act however you wanted, at least for a short while.

"Shut up! You can't be real. I know that the real Anakin Skywalker was killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. Padme Amidala couldn't have lied to me! Who are you and how dare you use Ani to play such a vile trick on me?"

Anakin opened his mouth to explain himself to you again, but you raised your hand to stop him. A light flickered in your eyes as if you had solved a great mystery.

“Of course,” you said sarcastically. “Who else but Palpatine would dare do such a thing? You are one of his men. This droid must belong to the Empire. How could I not have thought of that?”

You ignored the desperate sounds of the ambassador droid and Anakin’s objections as you walked towards your desk to grab the small blaster from the drawer.

“That old man knew I would accept the agreement he wanted anyway. Did he really need to play such a dirty trick on me? Besides, what did he think he was going to achieve by doing this? That I would give him everything he wanted without even holding a meeting? Couldn’t he have sent one of his incompetent ambassadors who is just as ugly as he is?”

You quickly turned the gun on the droid. The small, metal astromech tried to move back and forth in fear, but it couldn’t get very far from where it was, partly because of the hologram’s loyalty to its owner and partly because the metal parts that made it move had rusted.

You turned to the hologram one last time and said in a language unbecoming of a queen, “Now fuck off and tell your owner that I will accept the deal he is offering and that he doesn’t need to play such cheap games because when I am done with him, your stupid droid will not be able to do it.”

The astromech started to make hissing sounds of protest again, and Anakin’s voice joined his. He raised his hand as if he could stop you from where he was and shouted, “Don’t you dare do that.” There was no trace of the respect in his voice when you first started talking. “This is my only chance to talk to you. If you shoot the droid, it’s all over. And for God’s sake, are you so blind that you can’t even recognize Artoo?”

You looked at the astromech again with a jerk. You hadn't lowered your weapon yet, but it was a fact that the hologram's mention of Artoo aroused suspicion in your mind. Yes, you could tell with a single glance that the droid in front of you belonged to one of the older models of the R series, and its advanced intelligence, the sounds it made, and its hasty attitude were also the same as Artoo's. But how could you be sure that this droid, whose paint had peeled off, was not oiled, and was damaged in many places, belonged to your old friend? You turned your gaze to Anakin with an irritated expression.

"I have no reason to believe that this droid is Artoo. It could be any model of the R series. And let me tell you right now that you know about Artoo's existence doesn't mean anything to me. Your owner's pet Obi-Wan Kenobi may have also told you about Anakin's astromech."

Artoo let out a sad hiss as Anakin began to angrily ruffle his hair with his non-mechanical hand. "Is he my owner?" he asked, disgust evident in his voice. "Is Palpatine my owner? Don't you dare say that again. That scumbag is nothing to me. How can you think I'm working for him when I've lost everything and everyone I care about because of him!"

"Then prove it!" you cried. You could feel the anger and pain beginning to consume you. "I beg you," you muttered quietly as you sank to the ground in front of the holoprojector. "I'm not asking for you to give me a reason, I'm begging you to give me a reason." Maybe you needed to believe more than he needed to be believed.

"Convince me that Anakin Skywalker is still alive."

You could see Anakin smiling at you, though it was blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. It was a warm, affectionate smile that he rarely showed to anyone, perhaps even a little embarrassed.

He moved slowly and cautiously, as if you were a wounded convor who would run away if he frightened her. He reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out a delicate bracelet with a round, shiny stone in the center. Even the fact that it was reflected in a poorly-made hologram didn’t stop you from recognizing it at first sight.

“Do you remember this?” Anakin asked softly. “You gave me this bracelet ten years ago, on the edge of the Nara swamp. It was my last day before i left your planet, and we got into a fight over some stupid reason I can’t remember now. I think it was something about Aiwha rights. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Aiwha rights are stupid, I’m just saying it was stupid that we got into a fight over this on our last day.”

Even though you were in a crappy situation, you couldn’t help but curl your lips. You had always been very sensitive about the rights of non-sapient species (Tusken raiders were not among them, of course; they were a whole other story), and you found it funny that the man who was talking was afraid to upset you even after all these years. The times when you fought with all your might to defend the rights of other living beings seemed so distant to you. Especially now that you can barely protect the rights of your own people.

"You were so angry with me that I thought you wouldn't come to say goodbye before I returned to Crouscant, but you sent a note to me with help of Artoo asking us to meet at the edge of the Nara Swamp. You didn't want anyone to know about this meeting."

Artoo made a noise of agreement, glad that his part in the story hadn't been left out. Everything the man who claimed to be Anakin had told you so far was true, and the bracelet he showed was a great proof. You knew that your heart was starting to believe him, even if your brain resisted it, but you didn't let your guard down. Because if the man in front of you was really a liar, you knew that your heart would be shattered again and this time, unlike what you did in the past, you wouldn't be able to put the broken pieces back together. "Go ahead," you said coldly.

"We met at the place you wanted just before sunrise. At first, you were very quiet, no matter what I said, I couldn't convince you to talk. Then you suddenly started crying. In fact, I gave you the nickname softy back then. To be honest, even today, when the entire galaxy calls you queen and bows down to you, I'm proud to be the only one who can mock you like that. Anyway... Even though it had been a month since we met, that was the first time you told me about your past. You told me that you weren't very close with your family, that you were always taken care of by the maids and nannies in the palace, that you didn't have any friends growing up. You told me that I was your first and only friend, that no one could understand you like I did, and you asked me not to go, that I should stay on your planet with you."

"But you still left." you said in a low voice. While Anakin was verbally explaining, you were so immersed in replaying that memory in your mind that you hadn’t realized that by addressing him as “you,” you were indirectly acknowledging that he was Anakin Skywalker. “You knew I had to go,” he said with a sad smile, thinking of both of you, those two innocent children who were unaware of their unfortunate and painful future at the time.

"When I told you that I belonged in the Jedi Temple, and that I had to go, you asked me for a favor."

He took the bracelet in his hand and squeezed it as if he were drawing strength from it. "You asked me to come find you and give you this bracelet if you ever ascended to the throne and become one of those stupid, self-centered, incompetent politicians. You said it meant a lot to you and would bring you back to your senses."

The bracelet in Anakin's hands was truly precious to you because, ironically, there was nothing else that made it valuable. When expressed this way, it might seem contradictory, even a little absurd, but it had a very meaningful story for you. When you were only 15, when your people saw you not as a traitor but as their beautiful and elegant princess, you had left the palace to greet your people and tried to blend in with them as if you were a common citizen and not a member of the royal family. While you were deep in conversation with a little boy about his favorite snack, an old and poor woman had timidly approached you and tentatively handed you the bracelet. According to what she told you, the woman made her living by selling jewelry in her small shop, and the bracelet was the most expensive and valuable thing in that dilapidated shop.

"Even if it's not worthy of you, please take this, my noble princess," the woman said with an embarrassed face as if she had said something very rude. "I don't mean to disrespect you by giving you such a cheap bracelet, but it is the most valuable thing I have. I am a person who is devoted to the royal family with all my heart. You have no idea how honored i would be if you accept this little gift of mine and wear it."

To be honest, even the barrette in your poorest maid's hair was more expensive than that bracelet. It was not your style at all, and it didn't even match your clothes.

But that day, in front of that old shop, you had taken that bracelet from her wrinkled hands, put it on, and never taken it off until the day you gave it to Anakin. That bracelet was more than just a piece of chain and a small stone to you. That was a symbol of your loyalty to your people. One day, when you inherited the throne from your father, you would protect everyone who was disadvantaged, find a way to end income inequality. Now, those dreams you had as a little girl made you laugh.

You may not have been able to bring justice to your people, but you had managed to become the most hated member of the royal family in the thousands of years of your planet's history. Well, that was something, wasn't it? At least you knew that one day your name would not be buried in the dusty pages of history, but would continue to be in the history books for years to come. Even if you were to be remembered as a failed leader and a traitor...

You were so lost in memories of the distant past and self-criticism that it took Anakin's cough to bring you back to your senses. You didn't have to be a Jedi to know that he was getting impatient.

"From what I've heard, it's time to return this bracelet to you, but that's beside the point. Now, if I've convinced you that I'm Anakin Skywalker, can I get to the point?"

How could he dare to come back after all these years and criticize how you governed your people as if nothing had happened? On the other hand, speaking without thinking was so typical of Anakin that you couldn't even get angry. You shrugged your shoulders irritably.

"I can't say I believe it, but I decided to at least listen to what you have to say before I smash your droid. If you want to convince me, you have to explain where have you been and what have you been doing all these years. Padme told me before she was executed that you were killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. If you were alive, why didn't you come to me all these years? Why didn't you let me help you?"

Actually, there were hundreds of things you wanted to ask. You wanted to know where he has been all this time, how he escaped from the Imperial soldiers, what did he do in order to survive? But you couldn’t do it because your voice had started to tremble. It was like that whenever you mentioned him. Your throat would tighten and your voice would shake. Obi-Wan Kenobi, the once Jedi Master and the ruthless Sith Lord of your time, or Darth Whatever. You couldn’t bear to say that dirty name given to him by the Emperor, or even think about it. The years had taught you to get used to everything, but you couldn’t get used to his new identity. He was the man who had once taught you love, mercy, and compassion. He was your first love and your first heartbreak. How could he have turned into such a hateful, savage beast? How could that wise man accept being Palpatine’s puppet?

After a few seconds of silence, Anakin spoke up again. “It’s actually a little hard to explain.” You could see he was having a hard time remembering and recounting the past. But you didn’t stop him. You wanted answers to your questions, and you were going to get them. Right away.

“It’s true that Obi-Wan and I fought a duel at Musatafar, and I lost. But contrary to what my former master thought, I didn’t die there. Padme saved me shortly before she was executed.” He pulled up the pants under his cloak to reveal his mechanical leg. “Here’s a souvenir from that duel. After being treated by Senator Organa’s personal doctors on Alderaan, I traveled to a planet I won’t name for security reasons, and met up with some allies I won’t name.”

“You’re turning into a droid, huh?” you asked, pointing to his leg. Even though there was sarcasm in your voice, your expression couldn't hide your true feelings. “You’ve always loved them.” You knew what he was talking about was extremely serious and traumatic, but you had to say something right then, and that was the first thing that came to mind, no matter how meaningless. And Artoo had made a more lively sound than he had since he had come to you. You had no idea what the little astromech had understood from what you had said, but he was clearly excited to imagine his master as a droid.

Anakin rolled his eyes, "How funny," he said, but you noticed that he was smiling.

"So why did you reach out to me now, Anakin, after all these years of disappearing? What do you want from me?"

"I haven't reached out to you all this time because I've seen the sacrifices you've made to protect your people. I know what Obi-Wan did to those he thought were organizing against Palpatine. And I learned from Senator Organa back then that the emperor was watching your every move. Knowing I was alive would bring nothing but destruction to you and your people. Frankly, I wouldn't be reaching out to you today if I didn't need your help so badly. One of our friends who has managed to infiltrate the Imperial engineers recently gave us some information that Palpatine is making moves to build a new weapon."

"A weapon? Is he trying to build a new one, as if he doesn't already have every weapon in the galaxy?"

"This is a different kind of weapon. Palpatine plans to use a parasite that lives on your planet and secretes its toxic substances to create a bioweapon. It's also much more deadly than any other bioweapon he has. By our calculations, just 10 grams of it released into the air would be enough to kill 2 million people, and up to 5 million for some life forms."

You put your hands to your mouth in horror. You could imagine what it would mean for Palpatine to have such a deadly weapon of mass destruction. And was he going to do it on your planet, using your resources? "B-but how is that possible?" you asked Anakin. "If something like that happened, i would definitely hear about it..."

Your words were cut short by the sudden realization. "Of course..." you mumbled to yourself. "How could I not have figured this out until now?" You were just beginning to understand why Palpatine was so insistent on setting up a lab on your planet. You were already aware that you didn't have the most reliable intelligence team in the galaxy, but you were trying very hard not to go and punch them all. How could they not have known about this beforehand and warned you? And you were angry with yourself. After being deceived and betrayed by Palpatine so many times, how could you have believed that the lab he had set up was for medical purposes? “Good God,” you said, as if seeking strength. Because only divine power could make you endure the horror of what you were hearing.

You turned to the droid next to you with a sudden decision. You would have plenty of time to be angry with yourself and the people under your command later. But right now, you had to be strong and find a solution as soon as possible. Just like a queen. "You have the coordinates to Anakin's location, don't you, Artoo?"

The astromech confirmed you with you. "Give them to me right away. I have to go to Anakin."

Your old friend raised his hand and reached for you as if he could stop you, but the hologram passed through your body. "Don't do something stupid like that," he objected. "If you get caught, they'll kill you."

"Then I won't get caught." you said with great determination. "I can't leave you there like that, Anakin. Besides, I don't think you're in a position to object to me. Your whole body is covered in blood."

"It's not my blood, actually."

"If you think that makes me feel better, Anakin, I'm sorry, but you're very wrong."

You slowly reached out to Anakin's face. This move had done nothing but scatter the hologram, but your emotions were so intense that you wanted to reach even his reflection.

"Wait for me, Anakin."

After you turned off the holoprojector, you called one of your loyal servants over and asked her to prepare your ship. "Make sure to oil this droid," you added as you lovingly patted Artoo's head. "You have no idea how smart and special this little one is."

This was the message that lit a light in your heart 3 years ago, giving you hope that everything would change. Your old friend might have reached out to you for help. But he was the one who helped you by putting the broken pieces of your heart back together. Fate had brought you and Anakin Skywalker together once more, never to be separated again..

tags: @circe143 @snowtargaryen

[ezekiel-krishna]

🔢 Your 2024 Prediction (Numerology) Part 2

To Calculate Your Personal Year > Refer here

Personal Year 5

Get ready for some exciting changes in your life! Things are about to shake up and nothing will stay the same. From unexpected travel opportunities to new romantic relationships, there will be plenty of chances for you to break free from the monotony of your routine. In your personal year, Mercury will lead the way, bringing forth endless possibilities and even the chance to start your own business. When the Universal year (Saturn) combines with your Personal year (Mercury), get ready for a thrilling ride. This combination will bring excitement and fun moments into your life. However, don't forget that Saturn also brings a sense of seriousness and responsibility, which may lead to some conflicts.

You may find yourself yearning for something different in your job, business, or even your relationship. If you're in a relationship, this is the perfect time to travel together, do things your way, and have a blast. You might feel a bit bored and stuck, but Saturn is here to push you out of your comfort zone. This year, you'll be resistant to anyone telling you what to do. You just want to do things your way. However, Saturn reminds you that compromise is necessary. Learn to cooperate, have open discussions with others, and avoid being too selfish. If you can do that, everything will turn out just fine.

The good news is that Saturn is associated with power and success, while this personal year is all about money. So, get ready for some fantastic moneymaking opportunities. If you're a businessperson, expect growth or even the chance to start a brand new venture. Exciting times are ahead!

This is a fantastic time to shake things up in your business or find a new business partner to bring fresh ideas to the table. By expanding your business boundaries, you'll open up new money-making opportunities. Even if you're currently employed, you can make your job more exciting by consulting with authority figures and trying something different. And if you're looking for a new job, this is the perfect year to explore different options, especially in the finance sector. It's a great year for business all around!

Not only will your business thrive, but your friendships and social network will also expand. You'll meet new people who will bring excitement and stimulation into your life. This is the year to communicate and promote yourself, so get out there and make connections. And for students, this is a favorable time to make changes in your education and pursue new opportunities. In your personal relationships, this year will be more about having fun together rather than making serious commitments.

Next year will be more focused on commitment, so take it easy and enjoy the present. If you're a creative person, whether you're a musician, writer, journalist, artist, actor, or actress, this year will be filled with amazing creative possibilities. You'll be inspired and stimulated like never before. Overall, this year holds immense potential for growth and success in various aspects of your life. Embrace the opportunities that come your way and make the most of this exciting time.

Personal Year 6

If you find yourself in a personal year 6 in 2024, get ready for a year filled with romance and love! With Venus as your ruler this year, love will bloom and take center stage in your life.During a six personal year, you will experience many domestic changes and decisions. However, it's important to remember that 2024 is also a Saturn universal year. This combination of Venus and Saturn signifies that your romantic relationships should be long-lasting and serious. Flirtation is not what you're after; you desire a committed and permanent relationship.

This year is particularly favorable for starting a family, having children, or getting married. Venus rules pregnancy, so the possibility of having children is high for many people in 2024. In a six personal year, decision-making becomes crucial. You will often find yourself faced with choices, whether it's related to work or relationships. When it comes to relationships, commitment is key. In a Venus year, everything thrives on mutual cooperation, so you will need to make decisions about commitment in your relationships. It's a joint decision that you have to make, which is why many people choose to get married or even divorced during a year six.

The same goes for domestic matters. Should you move, stay, rent, sell, or buy a property? There are so many major decisions to be made. Who you live with and how your home environment functions will also require careful consideration. Do you need to make repairs, changes, or simply do something different? The choices you make in your domestic life will have a significant impact on your overall well-being.

This year, it's important to address any lingering family issues head-on. Decisions need to be made, but ultimately things will settle down. Venus encourages cooperation, so involving others in your choices will be beneficial. If you have children, your relationship with them will improve, and friendships will flourish. Harmony is in the air, creating a positive year ahead for many. Remember to watch out for overindulgence in food or spending. Generosity is key, so giving to others will bring rewards. Make the most of this year!

Personal Year 7

This year holds a special significance as the number seven transports you beyond the ordinary and into a realm of higher vibrations. It is a time for self-exploration, meditation, delving into spirituality, astrology, and the study of the occult. Not only is it a fruitful year for students engaged in research and studies, but it also encourages questioning and introspection.

During your personal year seven, you may find yourself becoming more introverted, seeking solitude and personal space. However, this does not mean you will disconnect from others entirely. Instead, you will require some time alone to reflect and recharge. This personal year will also bring forth connections to your past, whether it be through places you have visited or passed by in a previous life. As you embark on spiritual journeys, whether to foreign lands or unexplored territories, you may feel a mysterious pull, as if you are rediscovering hidden aspects of your soul.

For everyone, this is a Saturn universal year, which means you may face challenging decisions, tough business deals, and potentially stressful relationships. Your spouse or partner may struggle to understand you, perceiving you as somewhat withdrawn. However, when it comes to important aspects of your material life, such as finances, business, and employment, things will naturally fall into place. Trust that these matters will resolve themselves in due course.

Spend some time in nature to connect with yourself and possibly meet a new animal companion. The healing energy from trees and wildlife is powerful this year. You might also explore various breathing techniques, yoga, or physical exercise, but remember not to overexert yourself. Moderation is key in moving forward this year.

Personal Year 8

In 2024, if it's your eighth personal year, get ready for a double eight vibration that will bring about a significant turning point in your life. This is the perfect time to make a major change and embrace the opportunities that come your way. Success is within reach, and you have the chance to experience significant material gains, career advancements, or find a more fulfilling workplace where you can truly thrive.

Not only will this year bring positive changes in your business, work life, or serious relationships, but it also presents an opportunity for you to make important decisions for yourself. The power to shape your future lies in your hands. Remember, this year is not just about power, progress, and success, but it also holds the potential for retirement. If you choose to retire, you can expect a generous pension package or the freedom to retire on your own terms. Embrace the possibilities that lie ahead and make the most of this transformative year.

This year, what you truly desire is stability. Feeling secure and safe is your top priority. If your business or job is stagnant, it might be time to consider letting go. The number eight personal year signifies fruition and material success. Many people reach the pinnacle of their success during this year. When it comes to relationships, remember to put in effort. Consider doing charity work and sharing with others, as giving back is crucial. The symbol of eight reminds us that what we give comes back to us, so being generous and selfless this year will set you up for a positive future.

Personal Year 9

In 2024, if you find yourself in your ninth personal year, you've reached the end of the numerological cycle. It's a time of culmination, where success and promotion are possible, but overall, things are winding down and coming to a close. Embrace the endings this year brings, as some things are not meant to continue. While this doesn't necessarily indicate major life changes like divorce or job loss, shifts in relationships and career paths may be necessary in a nine personal year.

The ninth personal year is influenced by Mars, while the universal year is ruled by Saturn, making it a karmic period with malefic planets at play. Despite this, Mars brings immense power and energy - mentally, emotionally, and physically. However, this abundance of energy can sometimes lead to chaos. In a nine personal year, it feels like everyone around you needs something from you, leaving little time for yourself. This can result in feeling like you're spinning in circles without a clear direction.

My suggestion to you is to focus on what truly brings you purpose. The key to feeling rejuvenated is to declutter your surroundings - be it your home, desk, workplace, or even your body and health. Let go of unnecessary baggage and people. Take it easy and avoid extremes to prevent conflicts with others. Traveling, whether locally or abroad, can provide a refreshing break from your routine.

It may require energy, but the revitalization you gain from it is worth it, especially in a nine personal year. Considering this year is a heavy karmic number eight (Saturn) and you are in a number nine ruled by Mars, it's crucial to avoid contentious situations with your boss, spouse, kids, or anyone else. The more you steer clear of conflicts, the happier you'll be.

This combination of Mars and Saturn can really leave you feeling frustrated and stuck. It's like you're trying to push forward, but everything just seems to be going against you. But here's the thing - maybe what you're trying to start isn't meant to start right now. That's what I'm trying to tell you.

Instead of banging your head against the wall, why not try a different approach? Declutter your mind and your surroundings, go on a little adventure, get your body moving with some exercise. Trust me, these simple actions can help release that frustration and inner anger you're feeling.

The main idea here is to sort out the things in your life that you've left unsorted. But remember, this isn't about starting all over again. It's about preparing yourself for the fresh start that's coming next year. Whether it's starting a new business, a new relationship, or simply getting to know someone, it's best to hold off until the very end of this year. That's when the new energy will come in and set the stage for a successful beginning. So, don't worry, you can still make plans and set goals. Just make sure to formalize them next year. That's the best way forward for you.

Remember This is a General Analysis

For Paid Personalized Analysis & Reviews ➤Check Here Masterlist ➤ Check Here

[macabr3-barbi3]

dream a little dream (of me)- chapter 2 [Alastor/Reader]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54459367/chapters/138625708

Chapter 1 is here! And Chapter 3 is here! (psst chapter 4 is here!)

Same tags as chapter 1: Dream Sex, Dreamsharing, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Rough Sex, Dreamwalking, Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor

It’s truly amazing what a regular sleep schedule can do for someone. Within days of starting to sleep in Alastor’s room, life in Hell just felt… better.

And Alastor was tolerable, in his own way. There was no mention of the deal that you had made, and if anyone noticed you spending the evenings in his bedroom they didn’t question it. It was the same every night- you would knock, he would invite you in, and you would engage in the tiniest of small talk before he shepherded you to the bed he had set up for you in the bayou dimension. It was always made, the sheets comfortable and soft and warm as you laid your head down and fell into dreamless sleep. You were keeping to your end of the deal, unable to resist the siren call of actual rest in favor of sneaking to Alastor’s side of the room to see what he dreamt of these days. 

You wondered about his end, and what he had promised if you stayed out of his dreams like you agreed- like you were doing. “Whenever you would like,” he had said, but you didn’t want to just- proposition him. That felt improper and scandalous. For the time being you were content to just accept the peaceful relaxation that the bayou realm offered you.

You quit the retail job that you held after about a week and accepted Charlie’s offer to find something to do in the hotel- you were designated to the Resident Events Coordinator, which basically meant that when Charlie got it in her head that everyone needed to go on a field trip somewhere, you were in charge of booking, paying invoices from the Hotel budget, and making sure everyone was accounted for and following the rules when you got there. In theory, anyway- you’re pretty sure Charlie came up with the job on the spot but you hadn’t actually gone anywhere yet, no field trips taken or tasks for you for a couple weeks now. 

That seemed like it was going to change as Charlie squealed your name from the front office and asked you to join her. Poking your head tentatively into the room, she has a bunch of papers spread across the desk, Vaggie in the chair next to it with a hand to her temple. She shoots you a smile before her eyes return to the carpet, muttering something in Spanish under her breath.

“What’s-”

Charlie is bouncing with excitement as she sings, “I have a resident event for you to coordinate!” She gestures to the papers on the desk with wiggling fingers. “I’ve been doing some research and while it's been found that just regular stuff in a familiar setting is all well and good and helpful, doing things like trust exercises or just hanging out in an un familiar setting can also be really great! So Vaggie and I looked into some stuff and we decided ooonnnnnn….” She trails off and gestures grandly to Vaggie, who looks up from her dead stare at the floor.

“Camping. Yay.” Her enthusiasm is noted, but when Charlie pouts at her she smiles and pulls some jazz hands. “Sorry- camping! Yay!”

You offer your own smile even as your heart drops. “Okay, cool! What do I need to do?”

Camping would mean everyone sleeping in the same area- you had gotten so accustomed to a regular night’s sleep that you weren’t sure if you could stay up an entire night to avoid falling into anyone’s dreams. Alastor probably wouldn’t come with the group- he didn’t seem like camping was his style- so you wouldn’t be able to rely on that. You hoped that going back to the energy drinks for a night or so wouldn’t irreparably damage your new internal clock.

Charlie launches into a spiel about what was needed of you- reserving the campground, making sure that there were plenty of smores ingredients handy, snacks and things to grill and bottled water all in ready supply. You would need to get the list of rules, a map of the area, tents, and did you know how to start a fire? 

“Babe, you’re the Princess of Hell. I’m pretty sure you can start a fire just fine.” Vaggie looked at her girlfriend with an air of amused frustration.

“Well yeah but I want it to be authentic! No magic on the camping trip- not even from me.”

You look up from the notepad Vaggie had handed you before Charlie got too far into it, catching up on everything she had listed off. “No magic- got it! Do you have a particular place in mind?” 

And the demon was off again, listing off nearby wooded areas that offered camping and everything the group might need. Looking at the list of items you had accumulated, you figured that this job would be actual work and not just something Charlie gave you for a title- you wondered if Vaggie had to talk her into letting someone else handle the intricacies of outings so she didn’t burn herself out.

You spent the rest of the week finalizing everything, only being met with a small groan when Charlie informed the group of what would be happening on Friday evening. Niffty seemed excited- “lots of wild bugs,” she said with a crazed look in her eye, and you made a mental note to call the campground again to ask if ‘murder of bugs’ was something that was allowed- and Angel and Husk just seemed to resign themselves to their fate. Alastor had raised an eyebrow and said he would see if his ‘schedule could allow him to attend,’ so he was most likely out.

You had only managed to acquire three tents- one for Charlie and Vaggie, one for Husk and Angel, and one for you and Niffty. You had no intention of sleeping in it- you would wait until the smaller demon fell asleep, which she always did swiftly and deeply, and then spend the night sipping caffeine and manning the fire to keep everyone warm while they slept. When you came home on Saturday you would return to Alastor’s room and catch up on the rest you would be losing.

You arranged for the delivery of everything to the campground ahead of you all, and were pleased to see all of your materials where they should be when you arrived. It felt good to be able to do something for the group, and to help Charlie like this and take some stress off her plate. You started sorting through it all, handing out sleeping bags and designating Husk to management of the food items when you hit the first snag.

“Uhhhh…” The box containing the tents had two that were regular sized- big enough for two people while still remaining in the confines of the campsite as you set them up. The last appeared to be a child’s tent- large enough for Niffty on her own but certainly not for the two of you. That threw a wrench in your plans, as you were sure that no one would go for the idea of you sleeping outside on your own.

“Oh no!” Charlie looked over your shoulder and saw the predicament. “That won’t work for the two of you- wait, you can share with Vaggie and I! There’s enough room in there for three, right?”

Fuck.

“Maybe,” you agree hesitantly, but it wouldn’t be as easy to sneak out of the tent with two of them, one being a former Exorcist Angel with a penchant for nightmares that woke her up. And just laying there pretending to sleep would probably result in you actually falling asleep- and also, it was a little weird to share a tent with a couple, right?

Vaggie frowns as she finishes setting up hers and Charlie’s tent. “I don’t know, hun- there’s not much room in here, I’m not sure if three people will fit.”

Charlie goes to inspect the tent. “Well, we would be pretty close but I think it would be okay!”

You start to wave your hands in denial. “That’s okay guys, really- I still have a sleeping bag, I can stay by the fire-”

The resounding chorus of “NO!” from the group is touching, it really is, but not helpful to your current struggle. Husk is adamantly insisting that if anyone sleeps outside it should be him, Angel is complaining about the possibility of not getting to share a tent with Husk, Niffty is- chasing bugs on the outskirts of the site, completely unconcerned with the issue at hand.

There’s a crackle of static and Alastor emerges from a shadow, casting a glance over the group. “Hello everyone! Are we having trouble already on our little camping trip?”

“Alastor.” Your heart thumps in your chest- maybe he could conjure another tent for you, do some of his magic to put a pocket dimension inside of it like the bayou in his room. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”

“It seems that I was able to free some time up to join you,” he says, then looks at the tents that have been set up. “What seems to be the problem?”

You can’t fight the surge of irritation. “I messed up the order somehow. We got two normal sized tents but the last one is only big enough for Niffty which is who I was supposed to share with- I should have sprung for another one in case you did show up, now that I’m thinking about it.” You bring a palm to your forehead. “God, that was stupid-”

“Nonsense! Why, you can share with me, my dear.” With a wave of his hand the tents are moving, repositioning to make room for a red tent that appears in the middle of the others. It’s larger than the other two, causing Angel to let out a whistle, and the relief that rushes through you is immediate.

Husk doesn’t seem to agree, and Charlie and Vaggie are both looking at you with trepidation. “Now hold on,” Husk starts. “I’ll share with you, Al. There’s no reason the little lady should be stuck in there with you.”

“Why Husker, I’m offended! Do you think I would behave improperly? I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I promise.” He gestures to the tent. “It is more than large enough for the both of us- arguably a better position for her to be in than sharing with one of you, smushed in like sardines.”

Vaggie cuts in. “Why don’t you take mine and Charlie’s tent and we can share the big one with her-”

“Vaggie,” you interrupt her. “It’s fine! I’m okay sharing with Alastor. He’s right- it is a bigger space, there will be plenty of room for us both, and I don’t want to intrude on you and Charlie.” You flash her a smile. “Everything will be okay- it’s just for one night.”

The woman groans but gives in. “If you’re sure you’re okay with it, fine. But!” She adds, pointing at Alastor. “Charlie’s rules. No more magic.” Alastor hums in agreement and the rest of the plans for the evening go without a hitch.

There’s a nice nature walk through a nearby trail, a brief stint of swimming- unplanned and unauthorized, since you specifically told Niffty it wasn’t allowed beforehand- and an easy dinner made by Husk over the fire that Niffty started. Smores are concocted and consumed before you all tell scary stories together, putting an end to it before Alastor could have his turn- no one wanted to open that can of worms, as it were.

Everyone started to turn in, including Alastor, until only you and Husk were left out by the fire. He overturned a bottle of water on the flames to douse them, a flickering ember all that remained as he sat on a log next to you. “You’re really okay sharing with him, kid?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m a fully grown adult, Husk,” you remind him, and he doesn’t even look sheepish. “But yes, I’ll be fine. Besides, I think Angel would throw a tantrum if he was denied being able to sleep so close to you.” You throw him a wink, and with this, at least, he blushes. 

“Yeah yeah,” he mutters, “whatever. Just… you let me know if you wanna switch. Any time. I’ll wake up if you come to our tent.”

“I appreciate it,” you say with a smile, knowing it won’t be necessary. If Alastor had put another pocket dimension in the tent you would sleep soundly, no need to switch with anyone or stay awake. “Have a good night, Husk.” You go your separate ways, waiting for him to duck into his and Angel’s tent before entering the one you would be sharing with Alastor.

There’s no bayou waiting for you- just a large bed in the very center of the space, Alastor tucked under the covers with a book in his hands. “Ah, there you are, dear!”

You enter the tent and close it behind you. “I was just cleaning up a little with Husk. Um- I don’t want to sound, you know, picky but-”

“Hmm, were you expecting the bayou from my room?” He sighs like its a great inconvenience. “Yes, I had planned to bring it to being in the tent or at least getting a second bed but alas- Charlie did insist on no magic!”

God damn this demon and his selective rule following. “Right. Well, at least you know why I’m not sleeping. I won’t have to pretend- do you have another book I could read?”

“Not sleeping? Darling, there’s room here.” He pats the bed next to him, grin wide and amused. “I insist- I promise I’ll behave.” His smile did not give you much hope to that.

“If you’re the closest person to me, then- what about our. Um. The deal?” You can’t stop yourself from entering his dreams if he’s close to you, let alone in the same bed.

He tilts his head. “You have my permission. It is one night only, as you told Vaggie. Sleeping anywhere else would drop you into the dreams of another, and even if I had been able to conjure another bed you would still be closest to myself. You may as well be comfortable.” He pulls down the corner of sheets opposite him, and you have to admit that it looks inviting.

You approach and climb under the covers, careful to keep a reasonable amount of space between yourself and Alastor as he waves a hand and the lights go dim. “I thought you said no magic,” you mutter, only a little bitterly. He chuckles but doesn’t respond, and soon the sound is replaced with light, even breathing as the Radio Demon slips into sleep.

You fight it as long as you can, but you end up joining him, the world going black before you re-materialize in a familiar place.

Alastor’s room. He’s sitting in an armchair near the fire, reading the same book he had been. He looks up at the inquisitive noise you make. “I figured you needn’t feel so guilty about intruding if there was nothing intimate to see,” he says, flipping a page.

“I appreciate that, thank you.” You take the seat opposite him, watching the fire dance before you both. Its quiet, comfortably so, the only sounds the faint breathing of you both and Alastor’s page flipping.

You watch him for a while, since there’s nothing else to do. You lightly trail his body with your eyes as he relaxes into the chair, traveling up the lines of his legs to his chest, the subtle musculature of his arms and flexing of tendons when he turns a page, his fingers dexterous and strong. You think about the last time you had been in his dream- how those fingers had been inside the dream version of you but you never got to experience it yourself, not really. You’d come into it right at the end to be speared on Alastor’s length, wet and ready despite not being part of the preparation yourself. You wanted-

“Something on your mind?” Your eyes snap up from his hands to find Alastor watching you, shit eating smile on his face as he watched you basically ogling him.

“N-no!” You scoot the chair back from him, your face twisting in confusion as it's pulled right back into position and then even further, a shadow racing out of your peripherals after it drops your chair right in front of Alastor’s, knee to knee. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“You know,” he says conversationally, “you’ve not yet taken advantage of your own benefits of the deal, dear. You’ve been quite compliant in staying out of my dreams- I think that warrants a reward, don’t you?”

He’s leaned into your space, inches from your face, eyes darting down to your mouth. “A- a reward?” 

“Indeed.” He closes his book and it vanishes with a twist of his wrist, freeing up the hand to brush under your chin. “You’re free to choose something else if you don’t wish to ‘cash in’ on my end of the deal. Though… you do remember what it was, don’t you?” He trails a clawed finger down your neck, brushing your hair off your shoulders and continuing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Not hard enough to scratch but not so light you couldn’t feel it at all.

“I remember. You said… whenever I wanted.” Your face is red, your brain muddled as you take in the scent of him so close to you- you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“The exact wording, sweetheart, was that I would allow you to cum on my cock whenever you’d like.” His hands dart out to circle your waist and drag you into his chair, grinding up against you as the seat transformed into something more like a chaise, reclined and wider. “Is that what you would like now?”

“Fuck, I- wait, fuck,” you manage to stammer at the feeling of his erection under you, and you find yourself rolling your hips along with him, chasing that feeling. You lose yourself in it, your mouth open while you gasp through the pleasure, and no sooner have you had the brief thought of wishing you didn’t have to remove your body to take your pants off than the article of clothing has disappeared. “What-”

“Magic in dreams doesn’t count, I rather think,” Alastor says, and he shifts you to one side in his lap to get a hand underneath you and slide a long finger into your slick warmth. “It seems that you can do it as well to an extent.”

“Well that’s pretty cool,” you mumble, and when you throw your head back with a moan he latches his teeth onto your neck, a light pinch that he sucks and then soothes with his tongue.

“Indeed; one learns something new every day!” He traces his mouth down your shoulder, over your collarbones and back up to suck at your skin again, his fingers working steadily inside you as he adds another in, to the second knuckle. “For example- I have learned that you taste and feel even better than that figment of dreams that I created.”

You let your head fall forward, press your forehead to Alastor’s. “High praise,” you say, and he laughs at you. “I knew you would- oh fuck- ” He changes his angle, crooking his fingers upwards into the sweet spot inside your body, the pressure unrelenting and causing what little control you had right now to spill out of your grasp like the whimpers that poured from your mouth.

He adjusts, leaning back fully into the chaise. He releases the grip he has on your waist to snap his fingers, and with a clink his belt has removed itself from his pants and curled up neatly on the floor. A second set of fingers slides between your bodies to undo his fly, the thumb of the hand inside you brushing against your clit as he works to remove himself.

You’re panting, the air hot between your mouths as he uses your arousal to slick himself, pushing at your entrance. “Don’t you ever take these clothes off?” You ask irritably, wondering if you could use your newfound ability to vanish at least his shirt as you grip it in your fingers desperately.

“Not here I won’t- we must leave something to be discovered in real life, don’t you think?” His shirt still stubbornly buttoned across his chest, he extracts his fingers from your body and grips your hips to pull you down onto his cock. The whine you let out would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so goddamn good to have him fill you, nowhere to go to escape the pressure and the pleasure of it.

You plant your hands on his shoulders as he slides in to the hilt, and when you look at him his eyes are dark, cheeks flushed despite the smirk on his face. “That’s… that’s no fair,” you say, and you can feel the way you clench down around his length. “You’ve already seen a-all of me.”

He lets his hands run up your sides and under your shirt, claws leaving gooseflesh in their wake as he brings them up to brush against your nipples, drags them across your skin to gently rake down your back in the most delicious way. “That hardly counted,” he murmurs, bucking his hips up and watching the way that he slides in and out of the grip of your cunt. “This is merely a fantasy, dearest. I won’t be truly satisfied until I can say that I have claimed all of you- dream and reality, body and soul. Just to see your naked flesh is nothing to me.”

He digs the claws of one hand into your thigh, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to drag you down closer to his face, the ache of it only sending you towards orgasm faster as he grinds up into you. “I want you flayed open with the ache of needing me,” he groans, and uses his grip on your neck to force you to meet his eyes. “Here and in the real world. I want to fucking own you in every possible dimension, every possible way- tell me I can, darling. Tell me I do-”

Like last time, Alastor demanded verbal confirmation of your submission to him. “Fuck, yes,” you cry out, cutting him off, and as he pulls you in to lick into his mouth you find the strength in your legs finally, rising and sinking back down on his cock as he thrusts into you from below. It’s impossible to feel this good- you can’t possibly survive this, you think, as your cunt grips down tighter every time he glances off that spot inside of you. “Please, Alastor,” you whimper into his mouth. “Please, let me cum- I’m yours, I’m yours-”

He bites down hard on your lip, the skin breaking and blood pooling in the space where your mouths have joined as you hit your peak the same time Alastor does. He releases your lip with a drawn out groan while he fills you, grinding your hips down into his with a force that can only be describe as desperate . It doesn’t end; as you tip over the razor’s edge and drench his lap in your release you moan with the feeling of tightening on him, the sound devolving into a whimper as you clutch weakly at Alastor’s shirt when the wave finally crashes and leaves you limp in his arms.

“Hm.” When you bring you head up to meet his gaze he has a wicked smile on his face, pulling out of you with an embarrassing sound coming form between your bodies. One of his ears flicks to the side before righting itself. “Sounds like you might have some explaining to do to our friends, chérie.”

“What do you-” You don’t get a chance to finish your thought before he pushes you with a finger to your forehead, and instead of hitting the other end of the chaise you slam hard into the bed, covers fluttering around you as you fight them off with the force that you’ve landed with.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Husk is standing at the entrance to the tent with his arms crossed, Angel Dust peering over his shoulder with interest.

You clench your eyes shut, remembering that Alastor had only conjured the one bed- this was going to be awkward. “Fuck, I-”

“Yes, my dear, you’ve even given me quite the startle.” Alastor’s voice comes from across the tent- in a different bed than the one you had both fallen asleep in. A glance down reveals that you are in your own sleeping quarters, tucked under a soft comforter on your own side of the large space.

You glare at him and he keeps his eyes wide, feigning innocence.

Charlie pops her head into the tent as well. “We heard noises,” she said. “It sounded like you were in pain. Is everything okay?”

You were going to fucking kill Alastor. 

“It was… just a dream,” you tell them, and Alastor’s smile splits his face in your peripheral vision. “A nightmare. I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

Vaggie places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder from outside the tent. “We’ve got to get started with breakfast if we’re gonna leave on time, babe,” she says, then stands on her tiptoes to look at you over Charlie’s shoulder. “If you find yourself having nightmares come let me know- I have some stuff that could help.” She vanishes, off to try to start the campfire back up the way Niffty had done accidentally the night before.

Husk is glancing between you and Alastor, and one of his eyebrows raises. “You know what? Not my damn business. Come on, Angel.” He leads the spider away as well, and Charlie gives you a wave with her worried look before the tent is zipped back up and you’re alone with Alastor again.

“You-”

“What an interesting development,” he says, suddenly in the bed with you again- perched on the side of it, having shifted through the shadows in only a moment. He reaches a finger out and brushes it along the side of your neck. You hiss at the feeling, a sharp pain following the feeling, but he’s up and out of the bed before you can say anything else. He waves a hand, and a mirror appears in the space between your beds. “Have a look, dear, then come join the rest of us! What would we do without our event coordinator to lead us back to the hotel?” He doesn’t even use the door, just sinks into the floor and is gone.

You swing your legs out of the bed, only a little irritated to find that once again your legs are shaky. You make your way over to the mirror, and you see what Alastor had seen, probably what Husk had seen as well.

A split lip, and a still weakly bleeding bite mark in the shape of Alastor’s smile.

[lowfunctioningoptimist]

Being a former Schoolteacher in the Van Der Linde Gang

Prompt: {Reader as a Former Teacher in the Van Der Linde Gang}

Fem!Reader x Various

Summary: It’s no secret that the Van Der Linde Gang brought together all sorts of misfits of all sorts of backgrounds. Hosea had been a stage actor, Bill had been a soldier, and Javier was once a revolutionary. However, with all these strange yet vibrant histories, yours always made you stand out. Far to off in the eastern side of the country, you had lived a modest but respectable life as a schoolteacher. 

Note: Reader is written as being in her late twenties to early thirties. I only have Arthur, John, Dutch, Abigail, Mary-Beth, Javier, Molly, and Sean in this post. I do intend to write the others, I just didn't want this to be too long. I can also write specific imagines or romantic hcs if requested!

ARTHUR

He’s likely to be the first to develop a crush on you. Honestly.

Arthur finds you comforting. You carry yourself with a warmth and a certain air of confidence that makes him feel safe in your presence. He didn’t have much schooling, so he sometimes gets shy about talking about academic subjects. Still, you do manage to coax him into deeper conversations than just “mornin’” and “lovely day, ain’t it?”

Arthur is softer than he seems and sees more than he’s always willing to say. After cracking through the awkward small-talk phase of your friendship, you and Arthur begin to talk more on philosophy. He’s never considered himself all that smart, but you tell him that he’s insightful. Insightful? Him? It's enough to make him blush sometimes.

As he gets to know you better, Arthur starts to do small favors for you. Nothing too big. Just things like bringing back books from town or little trinkets he thought you might like. If you need help with your chores, he might just join you if Miss Grimshaw ain't around. Certain people in the gang have taken to calling him, "teacher's pet."

JOHN

He hardly paid you any mind, at first.

After you spent a few weeks with the gang, he started seeing you with Jack. Thought nothing of it, at first. Then it became a regular occurrence and despite himself, he got just a touch paranoid. You were brand new to the gang. A stranger. Why would Abigail let you near his her son? He confronted her only to find out that Abigail had asked you to teach Jack as his own private tutor. Needless to say, he felt a bit silly.

From what he can tell, you're not half-bad of a teacher. Jack's learning his numbers, writing his name, and is starting to ask for more books. While a part of him wants to be happy... it only vexes him further. Why would such an innocent civilian such as yourself be all the way out here?

John takes a while to warm up to you, but you proved to be less stuffy than you looked. You have a firm yet gentle way about you. And somehow, you can correct someone without ever making them feel stupid or simple for it.

DUTCH

He enjoys your keen mind and education, but he also resents it.

Dutch won't share with the others how he found you or how you became an outlaw. He likes to say that it's your story to tell. Really, he just like to know something no one else does. His reason for recruiting you was just as simple, he hadn't met someone like you before.

It's not everyday he meets an ex-teacher-turned-outlaw. Dutch found your situation interesting, unique. He does so like to collect outcasts. Especially one as educated and clean as you. Dutch starts to linger by you as you do your chores to initiate a playful debate. Unlike most in the gang, you disagree with some of his philosophies and have counterarguments that make him pause. That's not to say you've ever convinced him to change his mind, oh no. His pauses are more for him to steady himself so he doesn't show how bothered your resistance makes him.

As much as Dutch loves to spar with you mentally, he secretly finds offense in your obstinance. What you see as playful debate may just turn into a case against you as a traitor.

JAVIER

Now, this one may seem odd, but Javier is second most likely to develop a strong attraction for you. 

When he first saw you, it wasn’t precisely love at first sight. You were new, having joined just after Charles. Javier agreed with Bill that you wouldn’t last long. Everything about you just screamed, “civilian.” You dressed modestly, wore spectacles, spoke proper English, and seemed clueless as how to survive in the west. The only reason he didn’t outright resent you was because Dutch had been the one to bring you into the gang. 

The crush started around the same time you got more comfortable at camp. Sometimes you let your hair down, literally and figuratively, both of which he found very attractive. You have a mouth on you, and you aren’t scared of much. Seeing you stare down Bill for swearing in front of Jack was enough to prove that. He likes how tough but fair you are. How you’re educated but you’re not stuck up about it, unlike some he’s met. 

MARY-BETH

Is shy about it, but eventually goes to you for help with her writing.

Mary-Beth finds out that you both like “silly romance,” books and she starts to talk about how she writes her own. With it being so hard to find new things to read, you jump at the chance to read her work. Mary-Beth is quite shy about it, but she lets you read a few pages. Much to her surprise, you praise the work and ask for more. She starts to use you as an editor for some of her short stories. You enjoy her writing quite a lot and encourage her to keep going. 

You and Mary-Beth get on very well. You’re both bookworms and not too keen on violence for violence’s sake. Privately, you talk about what you hope your life will be like some day.

SEAN

Finds the fact that you’re an outlaw to be completely hilarious. 

As he gets more used to your presence, Sean starts to come to you with questions about the world. He does this because, as a teacher, he assumes you must know the answer to at least some of these. Questions like, “Why do we call ducks and geese different things when they look alike?” or “How’d we even decide what to name things? Did we see an orange’n on a trre an’ tink, ‘Oh now that’s an orange!’ or did we already have the color all sorted out? How’d they name colors to begin with?”

Sean will sometimes follow you around camp to ask you these questions, and the gang finds it quite funny. You’ll just be doing your chores with Sean slinking behind you as his mouth runs a mile a minute. What surprises most is that you usually at least try to give him an answer. Some folks didn’t believe you were really a teacher when you first joined… They believed you after they saw how patient you can be with Sean. 

ABIGAIL

First, she was suspicious of you. Then, she trusted you more than most.

Once Abigail was certain you weren’t going to sprint back into town to turn everyone in, she had a favor to ask. Jack was getting older and although Hosea and Dutch offered to teach him to read and write, they hadn’t the time to start. She asked you to teach him whatever you could when time allowed. You were excited to help, eager. Jack being as young as he was, took to your lessons fast. In little time, you were helping him sound out sentences and write his name. This started a new problem for Abigail, however. She never learned to read or write herself. Jack would try to show her his work, or ask her to read him a story, and she couldn’t.

Instead of shaming her, you offered to teach her how to read as well. Abigail refused at first, but relented when you said she could teach you how to sew in return. Through her, you start to feel more a part of the gang.

MOLLY

She only started to have a problem with you once she realized you weren’t some old hag.

When you first joined the gang, you were still dressing like a teacher. Your clothes were bulky and formless, hair all pulled back in a bun, and you were quiet. As you got more into the outlaw life, you started to dress a bit more like the other women. Started showing more of your personality. And more importantly, Dutch started to pull you aside more often. 

Molly can’t help but feel paranoid about you and Dutch. When she spies in on you two, all she sees is you both reading or debating. It’s not as if he’s holding your hand or whispering in your ear… but it feels wrong. Dutch talks to you about things he won’t talk to her about. Books, philosophy, world events, the strange and esoteric. It feels like you satisfy him in a way she can’t, and Molly comes unglued thinking about it. 

[delusionalwriter02]

Hello! If you’re not to busy I was wondering if you could write for dazai, chuuya, fyodor, and sigma with a reader that wears like baggy clothing(kind of like skater style) but one day they’re at a special event and are dressed all elegantly😱

You should dress like that more often

Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma x GN Reader / Fluff / Headcanons

a/n : Thank you so much for your request !! I love the idea so let's goo, hope you like it. I kept the same "environment" but change the dialogues and interactions for them, I'm sorry if the beginning is the same, I didn't really know how to correctly do it.

Dazai :

The grand reception hall buzzed with an air of sophistication as the doors opened to welcome the distinguished guests. Dazai, draped in an all-black attire, strolled into the venue with an air of nonchalance. His sharp eyes quickly scanned the room, ever observant.

Amidst the sea of elegantly dressed peoples, Dazai's attention was captivated by a figure weaving through the crowd. You, typically adorned in loose-fitting clothing and a perpetually disgruntled expression, had undergone a remarkable transformation for the evening.

Dazai couldn't help but stop in his tracks, his eyes widening at the sight. The dark fabric accentuated your shoulders and narrow waist, revealing a side of you that had been carefully concealed beneath layers of baggy clothes.

He blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Dazai mused aloud, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

-"Don't act all surprised. Thought I'd try something different for the occasion."

Dazai's smirk widened. "Different is an understatement. I didn't know you had such a figure hiding under those oversized garments. Did you hire a personal stylist, or is this a secret talent of yours?"

You sighed, attempting to maintain composure. "I thought I'd make an effort, that's all. Is it really that surprising?"

Dazai chuckled, circling you as if inspecting the change. "Oh, it is surprising. I never thought I'd see the day when you embraced the concept of form-fitting clothing. It suits you, though."

A faint blush colored your cheeks, and Dazai couldn't help but enjoy the rare sight of you, his partner momentarily flustered. As you both continued into the reception, Dazai couldn't resist teasing you about this new fashion choice. Even if, secretly, he hopes that this won't be the last time you wear these clothes.

Chuuya :

The hall glittered with chandeliers as Chuuya made his entrance. His eyes scanned the room. Amidst the sea of formalwear, his attention was captivated by a figure he recognized immediately.

You, who typically favored loose, comfortable attire, had taken a bold step into the world of formal clothing for the evening. The midnight-blue fabric clung to your frame, accentuating curves and lines that were usually hidden beneath more relaxed clothing.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Well, who are you and what have you done to my partner ?" he remarked, his voice carrying a tone of mild surprise. "Didn't think I'd see you strutting around like a runway model tonight."

You were caught off guard by Chuuya's observation, you shot him a playful glare. "I can dress up when I want to. Not every day I get to attend such fancy events."

Chuuya chuckled, his smirk growing. "I never said you couldn't. Just didn't expect you to go from baggy to body-hugging in one night."

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Thought I'd give the fashion police something to talk about. You know, keep them on their toes."

Chuuya laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Well, you've certainly achieved that. I didn't know you had a hidden fashionista side. Maybe I've been underestimating you all this time."

You rolled yours eyes, but a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips. "Underestimating? Please, Chuuya, I can be full of surprises when I want to be."

"Clearly," Chuuya replied, still grinning. "You're stealing the spotlight tonight. Who knew you could turn heads ?"

The conversation continued at length but Chuuya had a hard time staying focused. One wonders why.

Fyodor :

The grand reception hall exuded an air of sophistication as Fyodor's gaze methodically surveyed the room, searching for you. Amidst the elegant crowd, his attention was drawn to a figure moving gracefully through the gathering.

You, typically draped in loose-fitting garments, had chosen to deviate from your usual style for the evening. The pretty clothes you wore accentuated your form in a way that intrigued Fyodor, in more way than one.

Fyodor maintained his composed demeanor as he went to talk to you, "A departure from the usual, I see. What inspired this sartorial change?"

You, meeting his gaze with a confident expression, replied, "Figured it was time for a subtle transformation. People tend to underestimate the power of appearances."

Fyodor nods, "A strategic choice, then. You understand the impact of perception."

You grinned, "Well, I thought I'd add a touch of intrigue to the evening. Keep things interesting."

Fyodor's lips curved into a faint smile. "An admirable goal. Complexity often begets fascination."

You laughed, “A little dance?” you said, holding out your hand. “I have a partner who will be jealous if they see me in such nice company.” Fyodor said, accepting your outstretched hand.

“You’re really stupid,” you replied, taking him further away, away from the people.

A fascinating evening, indeed.

Sigma :

Sigma in his dark attire entered the hall. Amidst the swirl of activity, his attention was drawn to somebody standing in one of the corner, alone.

You who usually favoring loose-fitting clothes, had opted for something different, very different.

Sigma approached with a genuine smile playing on his lips. "Someone's bringing a whole new vibe tonight. What's the story behind the stylish upgrade?"

You grinned, a spark of confidence in your eyes. "Just felt like trying something out of the ordinary. You know, adding a dash of flair to this boring and stupid party."

Sigma chuckled. "Flair, indeed. It suits you. And here I thought I was the only one allowed to make dramatic entrances."

You teased back, "Oh, there's room for more than one in the spotlight. Care to join me for a dance in the middle of it all?"

Sigma raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, I suppose I could be persuaded. Let's make tonight memorable, shall we?"

Sigma held out his hand, you took it. He lead you to the center of the room, ready to make this evening trully memorable.

Hey! I hope you liked it? I'm sorry for having kept a certain line for all the characters but I must admit that I lacked inspiration to bring about the different situations.

See you <3

[darknights-beloved]

an artist's obsession

cw; implied fem reader , artist! reader, subtle romance subtle mutual pining ,, fluff / comfort ,, hints of affection ,, reader obsessed with drawing Diluc ,, no explicit mention of romantic feelings being involved.

synopsis; as an artist, illustrating the beauty of the world or capturing the surreal vision of your mind's eye is your favored way of appreciating something or even learning from it. so it only made sense why the uncrowned king of mondstadt had consumed your mind. (reposted.)

"How much longer do I have to stand in this position again?"

this was...the third time he asked, and the second time you ignored him. Your fingers working diligently against the sheets of paper, eyes glued to the image you were recreating- only glancing up at him when you needed to refresh your memory.

while you sit underneath the tree of Windrise, a faint smile at your lips, he stood in front of your view. Standing, his legs was slightly apart and his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

it was a simple stroll at first, and...

honestly, he just happened to stand in that specific spot, where the sunshine was beaming upon his red hair, lighting it perfectly. And his facial features, basking in the sunlight, showing off its beauty. You couldn't resist snatching your sketchbook as if your life depended on it and simply capturing this moment.

and that's where...this has got him.

"Y/n." He warned, whilst at the same time trying to lighten his frown a bit though both of you knew that since it was you who was keeping him like this- he would tolerate it.

You lowered your artbook back down onto your lap, pencil hand resting beside it. You looked at the grumpy winery owner. Well....not so grumpy when he sees you smile again.

"hmm.." you mused, looking at him up and down which caused the most subtle blush to adorn his cheeks. Ah, a little detail you can add to your masterpiece..

You sighed dramatically and held your book again, your fingers automatically going back on work mode. "Maybe for the next...several days.."

Diluc shoots you what was supposed to be a death glare, but it has the tiniest hint of playfulness in it, and you didn't miss it when you glanced up at his figure once more.

"oh, just-" you rolled your eyes and spoke in a somewhat mindless manner, your focus mainly being on his portrait. "it's only been like 20 minutes or something."

"No, it has not 'only been like 20 minutes', it's atleast been 3 hours." he corrected, now it was his turn to roll his eyes- but he suppressed to do just that.

"I said 'or something' too, y'know!!' you retorted playfully, pouting a bit as you look up at him once more. And somehow your breath caught in your throat...even when he seemed slightly irritated or annoyed- he was still good looking. Maybe even more, but you couldn't tell for sure.

He huffed in response but seeing you look at him with those innocent, adoring doe eyes never fails to soften his normally stiff and cold expressions. He did not complain about that. If he got to see you happy and appreciative, it made any and every effort worth it.

a slight smile tugged at his lips, he really couldn't help but find it amusing. "i swear.." he paused, taking one good look at you again who was still stuck in your trance "you're so...wrapped up in whatever it is you are planning to do with my portrayal that you haven't even noticed the sun going down."

seeing you didn't respond, he merely raised a brow. "Well?"

you snapped out of it and shook your head apologetically, a small smile forming on your face again.

"...oh it is? My bad." you chuckled as you looked in the direction of the sun, and it was indeed setting. No wonder the lighting changed. You look back at the man, he was still standing.

"alright, alright. I wont keep you like that for any longer." you pat the spot next to you, looking back at your book. Seems like you had no plans of leaving soon...what a troublesome little thing you were.

He let out a heavy sigh, it was good to stretch a bit after all that time. He'd think back a bit as he reluctantly walked towards you. Think how his past self would laugh at how obliging he's being at your silly requests. He was no time waster. He still believed in that fact. But when it comes to you...sigh, at this point he's admitted the same thing too many times.

"...thank you" he muttered softly as he sat next to you, seemingly avoiding any eye contact. well, not like you'd see anyway since you were focused on finalizing the details of the drawing. He took a peek at your drawings. And- how much of him did you manage to fit into one page already? Each one a different art style, and he felt proud of you for finishing so much in a day. Did he truly boost you with this much with inspiration? He hoped so. And with the papers being ever so slightly translucent, he could also tell from the subtle marks that you had also freshly covered the previous pages with....well, him.

as much as he was pleased by the fact that you found him fascinating, he felt a twinge of concern and it showed it his eyes. "Y/n...you need a rest too, doesn't....your hand hurt..?"

Looking at the redhead, you raised a brow at his obvious concern, letting out a faint chuckle- to which he then looks confused by.

But it was the sudden action that made him flinch. It was impulsive-yes -but genuine. You, out of the blue, wrapped an arm around his neck, his head almost bumping clumsily into your shoulder as you made him lean on you slightly. He could also rest better like this, you justified with the rational part of your mind.

"but I'm not done drawing you" was your answer, stubborn as always. "probably never will be."

truthfully though, he couldn't even register your words properly. He was way too painfully aware of the bright blush on his cheeks and ears. Oh, and his neck. He couldn't even bring himself to swallow the lump in his throat and only hoped his bangs would do the little favor of covering a bit of his flushed face for him. You were full of surprises sometimes, and that could be heart fluttering.

your melodic giggles flustered him even more, but only then did he regain a somewhat steady state of mind. "you know.." he mumbled, trying to remain composed. "that doesn't exactly count as a reaso-"

"Hush." you quickly cut him off, gently guiding his head to rest on your shoulder. He grumbled a bit at your persistence, though it only added to your amusement.

Surprisingly, for once, he allowed himself to lay his head on it, albeit hesitantly. And once he did, you smiled to yourself. "now you wanted to rest, remember? so rest....besides, my hand refuses to hurt when it comes to drawing you."

"..."

and with that, you went back to, what was it again?- ah yes! finalizing the details, you reminded yourself. Before he could say anything, your pencil was already steady in one hand while your other hand was resting atop his hand comfortingly. Book, remained in your lap. The most gentle breeze in the air, keeping the moment refreshed.

this was peaceful.

He shook his head, adjusting himself a bit more comfortably for you both. It's the second time he's surprising you when he protectively wraps an arm around your waist, subtly bringing you closer to him. His gaze looked focused, but soon you can detect the revealing sleepiness in it. Because no matter how unrevealing he may or may not seem, he always and always found solace in moments like these.

admitting it deep down to his heart, unaware of the way your heart fluttered and you blushed at his actions, he's able to close his eyes. Finding a sense of relief in the moment. He tightened the grip he's kept on you- gently, tenderly.

and the faintest murmur leaves his lips as he keeps you in his embrace.

"...so this is what they call an artist's obsession."

all rights reserved @eroxotckv @dcrkn1ght

a/n: as an artist, drawing Diluc, is my main inspiration. This little fic originated from my oc {or little self ship} Zephrose, who wouldn't draw any other non-fictional human beings except for Diluc. Maybe she's biased, idk..

dividers @rookthornesartistry

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 1

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, offscreen dubcon, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

She’d chosen the templars.

It seemed the better option. Or at least the less vulnerable one. 

Frankly, she'd barely understood what a templar was a few weeks ago. The mages seemed upset about them, but surely there were more important things than that in a war. Besides, she'd rather hide herself behind a trained militant force than these rogue witches. 

She still didn’t really understand them if she was being honest. She knew enough to see that people were afraid. No matter how evil the templars may be, at least they were stable. Maybe that was enough. 

She had hoped, assumed even, that Cullen would be doing this part. That she’d point at the templars on the map and he’d set off with his less than stellar army to collect them. That the man who’d been advocating to bring his old comrades into the fold would do the legwork and return with the mage killers and she’d be just that much safer. 

But no. She’d pointed at the map and then been sent off. They hadn’t even given her time to complain. 

Not that she would’ve. It would have ruined her perfectly crafted image of the sweet doe-eyed girl that ensured they wouldn’t throw her to the wolves. The one that changed her from a tool to a manipulable, scared girl. 

She was fine with being manipulated. So long as they thought she was weak-willed, there was no reason to hurt her. She just had to ensure that whatever was best for her was the path of least resistance for them. 

Besides, it wasn’t like she wasn’t returning the favor. The little notebook buried deep under her floorboards ran through the easiest way to get to all of them. Not to endear her to them, just to make her safe. She’d foster pity, camaraderie, desire, whatever would keep her in their good graces for the longest. 

She was always harmless. That was the one thing she had to be. Harmless above all else. Any sign of competency turned to threat under anything but the softest light. 

And yet they’d sent her fragile, bumbling self off to the templars to secure themselves some allies. Josephine had insisted she wouldn’t have to do anything, that she just had to show up while the actual soldiers being sent alongside her would do the heavy lifting. 

Iron Bull had promised much the same, posturing as he normally did. She almost always took him with her these days. He was a beast of a man who threw his weight around like it was nothing, more than happy to take blows for her. And even more importantly, he was growing incredibly fond of her, the kind of ally she needed. 

Their actual leader, the one who made the real decisions, was Cassandra. Cassandra was disinterested in coddling her, more focused on gathering troops than on the strange girl who’d inexplicably been shoved towards leadership because of an ability she’d been given by some higher power. 

Solas, the mage she’d been forced to take with her, was too busy huffing and puffing about prioritizing templars over mages. She thought about snapping at the elf, at insisting that maybe the mages should have been an organized militaristic force if they wanted to be prioritized in this fight. 

Instead, she rolled over like she always did, playing afraid until he stormed off, clearly uncomfortable with the tremor in her voice as she swore she was just trying to get the strongest possible troops so no one else would get hurt. 

Good. Let him be uncomfortable. She had never liked him much anyways. 

But even so, when they arrived at the templar camp she kept herself wedged firmly between Solas and Iron Bull, as far away from the leader of the templars, the Lord Seeker she was pretty sure he was called, as she could. 

She still didn’t fully understand who he was, couldn’t make sense of what he was doing here or why she was meant to care about him. In her defense, she hadn’t expected to be forced to come along. 

Despite her disinterest in him, despite her safe position, despite the way Bull attempted to lead the conflict, when something snapped in the Lord Seeker and he lunged forwards, he lunged at her. 

The world lurched under her feet and it felt like it had the last time, when she'd been pulled through the fade to this awful place and given the strange power that stuck her heading an army. It made her reel in her skin, her muscles and sinews feeling like they were being tugged along faster than she could keep up with, her mind stretching impossibly thin as it did.

And then she was alone. Her warriors and mages were gone, no Bull or Cassandra or Solas to keep her safe. 

Then this Lord Seeker appeared once more, and she suspected that even if she had listened when they’d told her all about the templars and their plight, she would have no better of an idea who this Lord Seeker was. 

This idea was only reinforced when the Lord Seeker began to morph, turning into eerie, hollow puppets of her now absent companions, cycling through her advisors as well. 

She allowed herself the freedom to not perform innocence for these poor mockeries of her cohorts. It seemed probable that this ‘Lord Seeker’ was a demon and as such, unlikely to respond to her usual fawning. 

So instead she got on with things, turning away from the creature that had just decided to morph itself into the face that she tried to avoid seeing in the mirror, and began moving forwards in this strange new space. 

The exploration was slow, the terrain littered with traps. The demon seemed frustrated with her persistent refusal to listen to it menace her. 

The rooms revealed little. Some had puppetted versions of the members of the Inquisition, acting out some situation or another. She decided not to devote her attention to it. It seemed to be intended to display what might happen should she die here and to be frank, she couldn’t care less. She would be dead after all. If Cullen ended up in a jail cell after she died, so be it. It would serve him right for forcing her to come here anyway. 

She explored another room, empty and strange, not sure what she was looking for. It wasn’t like she could just find a way out, she knew she was somewhere incorporeal and beyond things like exit doors. Maybe it was the fade, maybe she was in her own mind, maybe it was this demon’s territory. She didn’t much care, unless figuring it out led her to an exit any faster. 

And then, as she drowned herself in hopelessness and melancholy, a voice sounded from behind her. 

“You.”

The voice didn’t sound harsh nor antagonistic, a far cry from what she’d heard from the demon’s many faces. It was soft, almost curious in its tone. 

She turned around with wide eyes, forcing her face back into the soft façade she’d been free of whilst only under the scrutiny of the demon. 

“Thank god I found someone,” she gasped out, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick. “I thought I was all alone in here.”

A young man stood before her. She tried to take him in but it was difficult to due to the frankly absurd hat he was wearing. It covered most of his face, obscuring him from her, the shaggy ends of blonde hair and a stern looking mouth barely peeking out from under it. 

He also, fairly notably, was hanging from the ceiling, which did not help with the matter of the oversized brim of his well-worn hat blocking her view. 

He spoke once more, in that same gentle, inquisitive tone. It was off putting in a way it shouldn’t have been, its softness not quite managing to shield it from that. “It's not the same. Soft words, hard thoughts. You hate me. People do that but you think I’m human and you hate me anyway. Besides it, because of it. It’s hard to see, hard to understand, covered more and more, shying away from the light. The light brings eyes and the eyes bring hurt.”

“Are you inside my head?” Her tone was laced with a spite she rarely allowed to see the light of day.

He looked around. “We’re both inside your head. You’ve guessed that already.”

She shook her head. “Not here, not this place. You, what you’re saying, those are my thoughts. You’re stealing them from me.”

“Not stealing. Just seeing. Hearing.” He paused for a moment, and then said with a decisiveness she’d yet to hear from him. “You’re a bad person.”

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, brushing right past his statements, desperately searching for a way out of this. As much as she hated it, this weird creature that she’d found lingering in her mind was probably her best chance of escape. At least he didn’t seem intent on killing her.

“I grabbed onto you, when you were pulled through the fade. I wanted to go help, but getting out is hard. You made it easy but part of me is stuck up here now. You could help. If you go back I can follow you then too.”

Great, so she’d picked up some sort of mind-reading monster in the fade. She was tempted for a second to take her chances with the demon but she wasn’t stupid. She couldn’t get out on her own, and he clearly knew something. 

“What are you?” she asked, at least wanting to know what she was dealing with before she threw her life into his hands. 

“I’m Cole. What are you?”

That earned a ghost of a laugh from her, the short huff of air barely noticeable. Not that it mattered, Cole could probably feel it as she did. “I’m Rosemary.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, suddenly behind her, standing on the same floor she was on.

“About what? My name?”

“Wandering, alone, unnamed, searching for something soft on the tongue. Rosemary made people see the ghost, not the person. Rosemary earned gentle hands. What are you?” 

This was spiraling out of control faster than she could figure out how to manage it. “Can we focus on getting out of here?” she asked. “Can’t you interrogate me when there’s no imminent threat on our lives?”

Then he breathed a word out like he couldn’t decide if it was a prayer or a curse, like it was a horrible truth that had just occurred to him. “Britches.”

Her head snapped towards him, a tension she’d long since trained out of herself rearing its ugly head. “Where did you hear that?”

“You told me. It echoes in your head, the closest thing to you that there is. It’s so far, fleeting, fading. But it’s almost you.”

“We need to leave,” she practically pleaded with him. “Can we please just get out of here?”

“I’ve never heard someone who wasn’t a who before. Where did it go?”

“I promise I’ll answer all your questions when we get out. Please, we need to go.” She wasn’t above begging. There was very little she was above, in all honesty. 

His head tilted once more, as if considering asking about that thought, before deciding the promise of honesty in the future was worth more. 

“It wants your face,” he declared. “It would hurt more than you ever could, claw the people apart instead of just holding. You want to leave. I can help.”

“You can get me out of here?”

He didn’t even bother to nod, just continued speaking in his strange little riddles. “You need to make it more. Right now it’s just a few. The further you go, the further it stretches.”

“Why would I want to make it bigger?”

“The smaller it is, the closer together the power. You have to stretch it thin.”

Right, so she just needed to keep moving and eventually something in this seemingly endless demon would snap. 

She didn’t need him for that, she could travel on her own. 

His head tilted as the thought passed through her head. “We’re in you already. If you leave me behind, I stay. You want me to go so you can’t leave me.”

He was right. As much as she didn’t want to travel with this weird creature, leaving him festering inside her head seemed infinitely worse. 

“Alright then Cole, we’d better start walking.”

He nodded but did not move. “We will need to fight.”

“You will need to fight. There’s not much I can do.”

“No. You don’t fight, you move softer. Sneaking, slipping, stealing. You only have to roll over if you get caught.”

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” she said, and her voice was instinctually softer. He paid her no regard. 

“I can be quiet. We can move softly together.”

She hoped the creature actually understood what it was saying, that it could be as stealthy as it promised. Or at least hoped that it could fight. 

He still didn’t move and she wondered if he was waiting for her to go first. 

She turned and took a few steps out the door, hearing no footsteps sound behind her. 

When she turned, Cole was nowhere to be found.

A voice came from right behind her, outside of the doorway. “Should we not leave?”

She whipped around and glared at him. He didn’t seem to react to the look at all. 

To be fair, she wasn’t very intimidating. She had little practice at being menacing and she most certainly was not a natural. 

Emboldened by the fact that he did not seem to need to move to follow her, she set out, walking out the door, blowing right past him.

A scream sounded from her left and Cole said, “Keep going straight. It wants you to wind around and around and around so it doesn’t have to stretch.”

His voice echoed and she wasn’t sure if it was an audible noise or not. She turned to where it felt like it had come from and there he was, walking alongside her. 

The sound of her footsteps remained the only ones in the hall as the two of them walked. 

“We should move quietly,” she said. 

He looked around as he moved. “Envy can’t hear me. It doesn't know I’m here. You wouldn’t have either.”

“If not for safety then maybe you should be quiet for my own sanity.”

“You’re not going insane,” he declared. “You are frustrated.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“No,” he said. “You can be frustrated if you’d like.”

“No,” she informed him, although she imagined he knew already. “I would not like.”

She turned to look at him and saw a glimpse of his eyes under his hat, a little wrinkle formed between them. “Then you should stop.”

“You first,” she huffed. 

“The Iron Bull is out there,” he said, undeterred by her clear irritation. “He isn’t bad but he brings hurt anyway.”

She decided to try a more direct approach. “Can you shut up?”

“If you let them bite, then it doesn’t count. It only hurts if they take it, if you allow it it's still yours.”

She stopped with a jolt, whipping around to scold him. “If you can see everything in my head, why do you keep talking? You know what’s up there and I know what's up there so what exactly are we achieving?”

“I have thoughts too,” he said, almost wistfully.

“Really? I have yet to hear them. You instead seem intent on airing every thought I’ve ever had as obtusely as you can.”

“It’s hard. Your thoughts are so loud. You’re very angry.”

She huffed as she stormed onwards. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“I don’t know. I think the hurt would make me help. It just makes you want to dig your claws in and hold.”

“Fucking irritating little creature, that’s what you are. I’ll be glad when I get out of this and I never have to see you again. Then you can stew on my rotten thoughts as long as you’d like.”

His head cocked to the side. “You’re not convinced we’re inside you. You still hope this could be the fade. You think I may belong here, that I might stay.”

“Frankly, I don’t care where you go. I know you’re not staying with me though.”

“We’re tethered.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You can see in my head, right? Do you really think they’re going to believe a demon over me? You’ll be killed in a heartbeat. Which is fine by me, no skin off my back.”

“A bad person,” he muttered to himself, hands flexing and unflexing slowly, rhythmically as he spoke. She wasn’t sure if he even knew he was doing it. 

He went silent as they heard the shouting of troops. Cole faded away and she took to the shadows. 

If this really was her mind, which she was not ready to wholeheartedly believe on the word of some creature, then she had no idea how stealth worked here. Was it really as simple as being quiet and hiding away? Surely in this space that the demon allegedly created, it could sense where she was. 

And yet she watched soldiers run in front of her, looking desperately for someone to fight as she slunk further into the artificial landscape. 

Cole made himself scarce from there on out, occasionally warning her with that strange, disembodied voice to turn now or to avoid the room ahead, although never in such clear terms. 

Eventually, she realized where she’d ended up. She was where she’d begun, where the Lord Seeker, or perhaps the envy demon, had lunged at her past her several bodyguards, most of which were standing protectively in front of her.

It wanted her. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because of her perceived position of power. Maybe because of whatever this ability was that the fade had given her seemingly at random when she’d been pulled here.

It didn’t really matter, at the end of the day. She just needed to get out. 

And at the top of all those staircases was a dead end where she had been attacked. 

She looked around as the sound of battle-ready troops got louder. 

“Cole,” she hissed. “Where do I go?”

His voice sounded from above and she looked up to find him in the palm of a massive statue. 

“You remember it wrong. The statues don’t have faces here. You didn’t care to look.”

“I still don’t. We have more important things to be worrying about than what some weird statues look like.”

“It should end where it began. You must escape in the center.”

She made the mistake of turning her head, of looking nervously towards the false templars that resided down the stairs. 

When she looked back up, she was alone again. 

Or at least she hoped she was, looking around nervously, checking for any signs of an aggressor. 

But demons didn’t play fair. 

Before she could so much as catch sight of it, the faux Lord Seeker was slamming her back into the wall, hands tight around her throat. 

The face looking back at hers was the half-familiar one from the mirror once more, one she tried to avoid looking at at all costs. 

It was typically unfair, she supposed. To be forced to look at an imitation of herself as she died. 

She kicked and flailed, trying to break from his grasp, to get away by any means possible, but she knew it was a losing fight. She could feel the strength in its hands that far exceeded hers. 

Cole’s voice sounded from right beside her. “He is afraid of you.”

She could see no sign of him out of the corner of her eye as she thrashed in the demon's hold, but she could hear him perfectly. 

The fight began to drain out of her, sinking into herself as her kicks lost all their power. 

And then the hands around her throat went stiff and the world folded in on itself. 

She collapsed to the ground the second she saw Iron Bull in front of her, pulling the Lord Seeker away from her. She heaved in air where she sat, clutching her chest as she did, eyes beginning to water. 

It wasn’t her best performance, a bit overdone. She honestly could have just reacted as she would naturally but the sudden appearance of her companions had thrown her. In her defense, it was a sudden shift and she’d been preoccupied with other things. 

The strange creature with the stupid hat was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t sure if she hoped he was still trapped back wherever they had been or not. She certainly didn’t want him lingering in her head but having a mind-reading creature roaming around would prove an ever greater problem. 

Bull carried her inside as the other two talked about a demon and some transformation she hadn’t been privy to, instead caught up in her own dramatics. 

He tucked her away on a chair in the corner as Solas said something, probably whining about her. Cassandra gave her a firm order to stay put and they left her inside, amidst the templars.

She stayed tucked in her corner, choking down any panic that might want to arise. 

She didn’t like being alone with groups of men, let alone groups of men that she didn’t know and hadn’t built any repertoire with.  

The fight was over fast. She stayed dutifully in her corner, not one to disobey orders. When it was over, Cassandra and Bull returned for her, Solas presumably off worrying about more important things than her. 

Cassandra did not let Bull carry her any longer, insisting she was fine without giving her the chance to speak. She rose to her feet, despite her plan to feign weakness a little longer. She didn’t want to upset Cassandra.

Cassandra dragged her back to their control room to debrief about the mission, where she would inevitably try to pull something approximating leadership out of her once more. 

It wouldn’t work. She knew any attempt to lead would upset more people than it would please.

It was safer to be weak. 

Cullen was upset about something, which didn’t make sense to her considering she’d helped his precious templars first. Josephine was upset too, not that she’d ever admit it. But a liar recognizes a liar and that calm voice was as put on as it could be. Leliana was endlessly practical, so presumably she was telling her something important. She barely listened to any of it, instead focusing on clutching her uninjured stomach in faux pain, hoping that the hands that had been around her neck left bruises, despite having been in that world between worlds. 

And then their typical, predictable chatter turned to something more panicked and she looked up to find Cole sitting on their table.

Her eyes shifted from an impression of someone trying to be brave about their pain to a very real panic, lurching away from him before she could think. 

Swords were being drawn in the blink of an eye and she did her best to position herself behind Cullen. He was already the fastest to the draw and Cole was too dangerous to her. Hopefully, if he felt he had something to protect he would be even more likely to end this creature now, before Cole could become a problem. 

“You left,” Cole said, looking straight at her, the weapons pointing at him not seeming to concern him at all.

All heads turned to her. “Rosemary?” asked Josephine hesitantly, waiting for an explanation. 

“He helped me against the demon,” she said reluctantly. “But I don’t think we can trust him.”

Cole’s head cocked to the side. “Fleeting, fearful, frantic. You need me to be gone, they can’t see what I know. We both will stay.”

She prayed the others didn’t understand that as the threat it was. 

Leliana glanced between the two of them and asked, “A spirit helped you?”

A spirit. It made sense, she’d apparently picked him up in the fade and he hadn’t done anything truly menacing so it was unlikely he was a demon. At least not yet. She wasn’t sure how Leliana had deduced this but she stored the information away. 

She nodded. “He did. And maybe I was unfair. He was nothing but kind to me, and he saved my life. We could give him a chance.”

Cullen scoffed. “Trust him? He’s a demon and you just said we shouldn’t trust him! Now you want to set him free in the camp?”

“Wasn’t it you who said I could stand to be a little braver, Commander Cullen?” she said, sitting up a little straighter. She needed to do this, if Cole was inside her head he could get her killed. “He saved me, and I say we give him a chance.”

Cole was gone before she finished defending him, disappearing with hints of fade green in the air where he’d sat. 

Josephine looked nervous but she seemed the most content with their situation, saying, “He could be a useful resource-” 

Before she could so much as finish her sentence, Rosemary bolted out the door to go find the ticking bomb that had invited itself into her army.