#down foul for him fr fr

[mystycalypso]

Despite the fact he gets some screen time in the game, what are you two thoughts on quentin?

Also how wild would been if Aaron was adopted by him, instead of what we got in the end of HN2.

Oh my god I'm so sorry Anon I totally forgot I didn't answer this

Which is dumb because every time I saw your ask I remember going "oh this poor fool has no idea"

For context, I (Jack)...have... uh- a non hatred for Quentin

These posts have been buried in- more Hello Neighbor shitposting, but for context, here are some non hatred posts I made about him

Quentin art I made (that's my phone homescreen rn)

And general Quentin stupidity

For context, Anon, when Hello Guest released, it was not the guest that made me interested enough to take look-sies at Hello Neighbor again, it was being drawn to this cowardly beautiful man that I wanted to both kiss and be

I love Quentin. I would kill for this coffee addicted bastard.

But anyway, I think going the adoption route might be interesting for season 2 if for no reason other than A. The best boy and Aaron get screen time, and B. It gives us an ending to Hello Neighbor 2 basically (which is something I don't even know if we have in the current patch)

Also if it means after Aaron gets dragged away from Ravenbrooks to the big city Quentin works in, it explains why him and Nicky never got to- heal per say

Plus I'm not against Quentin taking a fatherly role as uh- as seen in my Quentin Roth theory (which Tinybuild shut down very thoroughly with the "Mr. Peterson's Guest" clip lol)

The only thing I'd say would be holding me back on it is- a reason why. I'd need to see Quentin's side of things in universe rather than just get told he had this deep need to help Aaron and adopt him after it all, yknow? Like, don't expect viewers to have played hn2 and understand Quentin's investigation, yknow?

I don't think the adoption thing is the route they'll take because of that, I mean, they'd basically have to tell the events of s1 and beforehand again just from Quentin's perspective for that.

Alternative thought, it'd be kind of funny if Nicky sees Aaron again, and he's with Quentin, and Nicky's like "who tf is this" and Aaron is like "He saved me from the basement! :D" and Nicky dies because he basically got traumatized for nothing and gets no credit for saving his bff

[satorena]

: ̗̀➛ TRAPPED WITH U !?

featuring. g. satoru x fem!reader

warnings. explicit content, foul language, intern!reader, businessman!gojo, satoru’s a bit of a pervert in this one, and also really fucking annoying but he’s just in love fr, oral, slight breath play, unprotected sex, breeding. they fuck in an elevator, and i use a lot of italics here, oops!

rena’s note. he’s so fucking insufferable i want him so bad. also this 4.3k words. i’m so sorry.

oh but of course, since the odds were always against your favour, had you found yourself stuck in this incredulous predicament.

it’d been a long day of enduring misogynistic, narcissistic higher ups and pricks, and you wanted nothing more than to hop in your car and drive off home, hop in bed and sleep.

sounded like an ideal and realistic plan, until the sole purpose of your life’s oppression waltzed in seconds before the elevator’s doors shut, pearly white teeth flashing through a smug grin and icy blues shimmering through dark shades that rested atop his nose bridge.

you huffed, almost at your wit’s end as the elevator’s door automatically reopened at the unwanted presence detected in its sensory, and the tall frame steps in with slow strides and a stupid fucking smile on his lips, hands in the pockets of his slacks, striding as if he stepped out of vogue’s magazine.

“see somethin’ you like, wifey?” satoru chuckled, stepping side to side by your posed frame. why he chose to stand beside in this very unoccupied elevator, you’d never understand but you did know you weren’t going to entertain his bullshit today.

you bit back the insult that rested at the tip of your tongue, “floor?” your index finger hovered over the panel, waiting for him to tell you.

“same as yours,” gojo shrugged, to which you decided on closing the doors instead.

“what business you got on the 2nd floor?” you muttered, suspicions growing at the fact that he coincidentally had shit to do on the same floor as yours.

the boyish smirk he flashed you sent chills down your spine, “whatever business you got on that floor.”

you sighed exasperatedly, soon piecing together that gojo was certainly not going to the second floor to pack his belongings to head home, seeing as he was one of the higher ups that spent longer hours in the office when the interns’ shifts would end.

you pinch the bridge of your nose; “gojo.” you say his name, tone clipped and full of fatigue.

“y/n.” he answers back with your name, a flashy grin baring on thirty two teeth.

you breathe in deeply, reminding yourself to count to ten before you lost your shit. you step near the control panel and press on the main lobby floor, the first, where you decide to send him off. chances were he was heading down there to do his daily flirting with the new secretary hired anyway.

“did ya change your mind?” his voice spawns from right at your ear, and you still in shock at his proximity, noting he’s much closer to you than earlier. “we goin’ to the first floor instead?”

“we are not going anywhere.” you tilt your head to the side, glaring at him through your falsies. he shifts his own head, still fucking smiling, feigning ignorance. “you are going to the first floor, and i’m going to the fifth.”

his smile drops, finally, but at what cost? “why would i do that?” he has the nerve to genuinely sound confused, as if you were the one not making any sense out of this situation.

“why wouldn’t you?” you counter back, lifting an index finger to place atop his forehead, before pushing his head back, “don’t you got better shit to do? like harass a newbie and disguise it as flirting or somethin’?”

“is that not what i’m doing right now?” he jokes, grabbing the finger that pushed him back. you scowl, a bit upset at the fact you walked right into that one.

“besides,” he speaks up, directing your finger towards the control panel once more. “what if i had business on the… seventh floor?”

you furrow your brows, your own eyes watching as he uses your nail to press on the seventh floor button. you try to ignore how warm and soft his hands feel against your, in contrast to the coolness of his rings.

“orrrr,” he drags out, tightening the hold on your hand once more and raising your hand higher on the panel. “what if i had business on the thirteenth floor? maybe the ninth too?”

“gojo.” you warn him, clicking your tongue when realizing what game he’s starting to play at. you definitely don’t feel goosebumps form at your skin hearing his chuckle resonate right in your ear.

“that german intern’s a babe, ain’t she?” he hums pensively, his thumb rubbing circles at the center of your palm. “i might wanna see her too.” he brings your hand to the eight floor and applies enough pressure to see it illuminate.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you get annoyed, attempting to rip your hand away from his hold but fail, when you feel him creep even closer in your bubble, your ass undoubtedly pressing into his crotch.

your eyes widen, half shock half disbelief, a sudden appearance of what seems to be gojo junior stirring awake poking at your short skirt. oh fuck.

“or,” he whispers, minty breath sending jolts of electricity up your back. he drags your hand messily over the panel, about three fourths of the floors illuminating and you know you’re fucked. “maybe i wanna stay stuck in here with you…”

you blink back to reality, dismissing whatever possible emotion you were beginning to feel emerge in your core. with a sharp tug, you manage to free yourself from his grasp and turned on your heel to face the tall bastard.

“i’m gonna need you to back off and instantly—you fuckin’ creep.” you snarl, pointer finger pointing at him accusingly, hoping it sets an exemplary distance between you both.

gojo breaks into laughter, the kind that has his shoulders shaking and has him doubling over as if you’d just told him the world’s greatest joke. you watch him dumbfoundedly, your left eye twitching as he continued to ridicule you.

“fine, fine. sorry princess, i was just teasing.” he pushes his frames up to his hairline, messy strands of hair pushed out the way as he wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eyes.

you roll your eyes, pushing past him to make your way back to where you’d been prior to these stupid events. if you were gonna be stuck on this elevator ride longer than necessary because of the pit stops, you’d simply ignore him and hope he catches the hint.

you stare straight ahead at the elevator door, feeling the ride descend from the twentieth floor downwards. fuck that tall, stupid and rich bastard for dragging this elevator ride past its needed time limit.

from your peripheral, you make out his form leaning forward to catch your straight gaze. you were ignoring him and he knew, “you mad at me?”

you remain quiet, silently praying that at one of these next stops another worker would step in and ease the situation more.

gojo frowns, eyebrows pinched to the center his forehead, “c’mon, i was joking! honest! i really am sorry.”

the silence, safe for the elevator music, answered him everything he needed to know. you were always such difficult nut to crack, but what you failed to acknowledge was the more you pushed him away the more he grew attracted to you.

he sighs, before slinging his arm over your shoulders, dropping most of his body weight onto you. he watches as you nearly stumble from the sudden imbalance, before looking up to him with that adorable pout of yours that he wants to fuck out of you.

oops.

“what now, gojo?” you ask him with so much attitude, your expression bored. “can’t leave me alone for a single fucking elevator ride? you that obsessed with bothering me?”

“you got it all wrong,” gojo shakes his head, snow white tresses shaking with him and his shades falling right back to place on his nose. “i’m not obsessed with bothering you— i’m obsessed with you period. been obsessed since that time you chucked piping hot coffee on my givenchy button down.”

you frown deeply at that, reflecting at how long ago that had been. you knew what kind of guy he was. after all, who hadn’t heard of gojo satoru in this forsaken company? he dipped his dick in anything with a pulse and moved onto the next big thing whenever he got bored—

or so you’ve heard.

you stare at him for a minute, processing his words. he shamelessly stares back at you, now looping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“see something you like, wifey?” he repeats himself, his favorite nickname for you making another appearance. you ignore how his hands stroke your bare arms.

you stifle a laugh, snorting incredulously at him before breaking into a full blown laughter. maybe you now understood why gojo had done the same just a little while ago, because the look of offence on his face had made the situation funnier than it was initially.

“what’s funny?! i’m here professing my feelings for you and you’re laughing?!” gojo complains like the manchild he is, dragging syllables and all, rosy lips falling into a pout.

“fuck— i’m sorry, did you think i was gonna believe that?” your laughter dies down, sighing deeply in attempts to catch your breath. “no, seriously, do you take me for an idiot?”

“believe it or not, it’s the truth,” he mumbles, leaning his chin at the top of your skull. “even ask nanamin. been treating him as my walking diary since suguru left.”

you don’t want to think about if that holds any truth or not. you tilt your head up, enforcing eye contact with him, “i think you’re confused. it’s definitely not love, or anything in between. you’re just horny and want to fuck me.”

“well,” he looks down, mouth salivating at the point of view presented of your breast, sitting up in all their glory in your blouse. “i won’t lie and say that isn’t true. but why is it so hard to believe i have feelings for you? i literally am obsessed with you, why else would i deliberately wast time and sit through all twenty floors here with you?”

speaking of, you look at the indicator and notice you’re only at the seventeenth floor. how slow was this damn ride? there’s absolutely no way you’d only been through less three floors this whole time? was time still in this elevator or what?

wait—

“oh shit.” you hear the man cuss. you fear that’s all the confirmation you needed, as your eyes pan towards the control panel and notice all the buttons are illuminating on and off.

silence fills the air, and you’re just realizing the elevator music had stopped playing. your luck bites, you decide, as you reevaluate all you wanted to do; grab your shit from the second floor and go the fuck home.

you try not to freak out, the fear of being trapped in an elevator period catching up to you mixed with anger rising in your blood at the blue eyed freak who’s the sole cause for this unfortunate situation.

“don’t freak out, but like,” he begins to speak, corner of his lips tugging into a sympathetic smile, “we’re definitely stuck here.”

he deserves the punch to the guts he gets.

“you sit your ass on that end of the room,” you push him to one extremity of the elevator. he’s doubled over, groaning in agony at the blow he received. “and i’ll be sitting here. do not, and i cannot stress this enough, talk to me.”

time flies really fucking slowly, you notice as you check your dying phone every five minutes, waiting for the damn maintenance of this place to do their job and get you out of this elevator.

gojo had complied to your demand and hasn’t said a word to you in about twenty minutes. his long legs sprawled across the floor, one leg raised as he rested his arm atop his knee.

you didn’t want to admit it, but you were getting bored. and hungry. very hungry, and uncomfortably hot. did the air conditioning in here cut off too? most likely, damn your life.

you sat as gracefully as you could in your tight skirt and heels, tucking your legs into chest in hopes your shins were covering your inner thighs. though, you weren’t certain if you were doing a good job, judging by the way you could feel gojo’s stare at you behind the shades and the way he shifted in his seat.

he tilts his head to the side, index finger swiping over his nose and he sniffs, “figures you’re the lace type.”

you feel all the fight flee your body, all but exhausted as you bite into whatever he chews. you needs entertainment, even if it came in form of a 6’3 imbecile with an outfit the cost of your rent.

“figures you’ve been staring at my panties this whole time, when else are you ever this quiet?” you clap back, making no motion to switch positions. besides, he was manspreading with his whole boner poking through his slacks and he remained shameless. why couldn’t you?

he smirks, lifting his hand and leaning his cheek in his palm, “i’ve spent the last twenty minutes thinking about the things i’d do to you if you’d let me.”

gojo was so fucking shameless, you hated how it turned you on at times. you must’ve been truly out of it, lack of food in your system or something, because your answer flies out of you almost too naturally, “show me your worst then.”

in the blink of an eye, you both find yourselves back on your feet, your back pressed against the wall of the elevator as your lips mold feverishly with his. gojo kisses you like he’s been wanting to do so for years, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pushing your body tighter against him.

you’re no better, hands flying to the back of his neck and your nails tugging at messy locks. he moans against your lips at a particular tug, one hand slipping past your waist and slides up your thigh. he lifts your leg and wraps it around his hip, applying pressure into the middle of your legs.

“fuck,” you moan softly against pink lips, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. he hums, your bottom lip tucked in his teeth as he pushes up into you once more.

“feel good?” he mumbles against your lips, sneaking a few kisses while awaiting for your response. his hold on your thigh is firm, wanting to hold you in place to keep grinding into you and drawing these pretty sounds out of you.

you nod your head before throwing it back against the wall, to which his lips leave yours to attack at your neck. he’s kissing and licking and nipping at your sensitive skin, leaving dark love bites.

“you fuckin’ teenager,” you complain, knowing he was intentionally marking you in visible areas, so you’d be the next talk of the week. “just had to be there, didn’t it?”

“couldn’t help it,” you feel his smirk against your jugular, to which you roll your eyes. “you smell so fucking good here, shit, i could eat you up— actually…”

you snort as he pulls away from the crook of your neck, and you eye how dishevelled he looks. even with messy hair, saliva streaking his cheeks and swollen lips, he still looked fucking hot.

you don’t have much time to reflect on his beauty because he’s soon kneeling down in front of you, hands creeping up in your skirt and tugging down at your lace undergarment. it slides off your legs with ease, and is soon in his possession, to which he stuffs in his pockets.

“i will.” he finally completes his sentence, lifting your leg over his shoulder.

he holds a firm grip on your thigh as your skirt hikes up, and he feasts. his lips latch onto your lower ones and slurps up your juices. his tongue swipes at your wet folds, moaning at the taste, which drives you to mush.

you throw your head back, hands coming in contact with his tresses, expressing the delight you feel through the tugs at his hair. whenever you’d pull hard at his hair, he’d moan into your cunt, which would result in making you moan louder and pull harder, and the cycle repeats.

“f-fuck, hah—gojo,” you whine when you feel a single digit prod into your pussy. he multitasks with fucking you open with his finger while sucking at your clit and lapping up your juices.

“shit, mhm, keep going,” you push his head deeper into your legs, momentarily forgetting you’re cutting out his breathing circulation.

you then realize he truly doesn’t mind, as his eyes roll to the back of his skull and moans even more sinfully into your dripping pussy.

it didn’t take much more than a few extra fingers to drive you over the edge, and you spray your essence in his mouth as he happily swallows every single drop you offer to him. your thighs quake and you feel yourself lose balance but he makes sure to hold you still.

you ride your high on his face, breathing heavily as you come down from your orgasm. he pulls away from in between your legs, breathing heavily with a smitten smile on his lips. “bon appétit,” he jokes, using the back of his hand to wipe himself clean.

you snort at his childishness, “shut up and gimme a moment to return you the favour.”

and just like that, you find yourself now kneeling and gojo hovered over you. he stretched his arm to hold himself up against the wall while simultaneously watching you swallow his cock whole.

now, all cocky shit aside, gojo was nowhere near small sized. he packed a big one, and the fact that you were so confidently gobbling him up, head bobbing up and down on his length, hands twisting and jerking whatever you failed to reach.

“fuckfuckfuck—shiiit, dammit y/n, your mouth feels fuckin’ amazing,” gojo whines pathetically, leaning his forehead against the cool wall.

it unintentionally forces his tip deeper in your throat and you gag around him, throat constricting around his dick and fuck if his knees hadn’t buckled.

you knew gojo was a spontaneous man, so him suddenly reaching the back of your head and pushing you deeper on his dick shouldn’t have surprised you. you were now deepthroating him as he praised you endlessly, telling you how perfect you were taking him, how warm and tight your mouth felt, how he was going to cum if you kept playing with his balls.

when he does nut, your nose reaches his pubic hairs, curly white hairs ticking you as you inhale his musk in attempt to force yourself to suppress your gag. he cums a riverbank down your throat and naturally you swallow it all, pulling off him when he finishes and seeing a string of cum and saliva connect his blushing pink tip to your lips.

“fuck,” he chuckles breathlessly, hand laying atop of your head and patting your hair gently before sliding down to your jaw. his thumb strokes your skin, “come up here, wanna kiss you again.”

“sap.” you tease but lift yourself, knees wobbly but you manage.

you’re back to standing, and your hands quickly find themselves back to his nape, threading your fingers gently through his hair. he kisses you much less rushed but instead takes his time, savours the taste of him on your tongue as you taste yourself on his.

the kiss is sensual and sloppy, drool pooling at the corner of your lips as he kisses you like his lifeline depends on it. his hands slip at your ass, grabbing the mounds with handfuls.

he pulls away just slightly, wording against your lips “jump.”

you comply, jumping and he catches you gracefully, showing no signs of struggle. you wrap your legs around his waist and proceed to kiss him again, your back coming in contact with the wall. you feel him grind his hardening dick against your bare pussy, and if you had half your regular mind, you’d have been embarrassed by how badly you were dripping over him.

“‘m gonna fuck you now,” gojo mumbles against your lips, lips peppering kisses at the corner of your saliva coated mouth. “that good with you, princess?”

you give him a flat look, fingers still carding through his soft locks. “use your thinking skills and guess.”

he smiles at you, almost too sincere and raw, and you feel your eyes shy away from his gaze, focusing instead at the beauty mark marked at the base of his neck. “hey, consent is sexy, meanie.”

“the sexiest,” you feed into his bite, giggling when you feel him nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck. his crown of hair tickles at your skin. “now hurry up.”

you surely don’t have to tell him twice as he pulls out of your neck and grabs the base of his dick, placing his tip at your pulsating hole and pushes inside.

the synchronization of both your moans blend into each others, as your gaze on one another never breaks. he watches you intently, blue eyes narrowing into your facial reactions, wanting to memorize every twitch of muscles in case this was ever his last opportunity to.

“mmhm—yes, baby,” you claw at his back, eyes droopy and hazy as he thrusts into you at a slow yet intense pace. if gojo noticed the term of endearment you slipped up, he made no show in pointing it out, and you were thankful.

the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.

he fucked you into that wall, dug so deep into your cunt you were sure you felt him in your stomach. well no wonder why women were obsessed with him, he was definitely a pleaser. a stinging bitter feeling momentarily crawled up your throat before dissipating when you caught his eyes staring at you with something you’d usually refer to as admiration.

“god, this pussy is heaven fucking sent—never had anythin’ like it—oh shit baby, gotta have more of this— gotta have more of you, please y/n—need this all the fuckin’ time,” he praised you like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

he was a verbal man, you knew, but it amplified during sexual activities. you shamefully moaned at every praise he threw at you, pussy clenching at his dick, warmth oddly settling in your chest. you scratched at his back, he bit into your shoulders, nipped at your lips and rammed your core.

in little to no time, you felt that tide of pleasure washing over you, your cervix unable to take anymore of his tip bullying into it.

“gojo, fuckkk, ‘m so fucking close!” you mewl brokenly, as tears stream down your cheeks from the overriding pleasure.

“satoru,” he breathes out, his name falling straight within earshot. his hips never give up, but his request is asked based off raw emotions, “call me satoru—please,”

your mind is running miles a minute, the tightening of your gut on the brink of snapping and spraying your dam yet again all over him.

he whimpers with his nose pressed at your jugular, his grip on your thighs so tight your bound to have bruises form soon, and your back begins to ache from repeatedly being pushed up against an uncomfortable surface.

but fuck, you were so fucking close.

“hnng—satoru!” you cry as your orgasm washes over you, rakes through your body from head to toe, muscles spasming in his hold.

you leak like a faucet, and he follows suit, moaning your name all brokenly, whimpering and whining in your ear as he pumps your pussy full of his cum. for a split second you feel your bodies merge into one, the orgasm so intense you almost forgot just who and where this was happening.

eventually, you both ride down from your highs, and satoru places you down to your feet, though never pulling out of you. his dick is snug in your warm walls, and he’s tempted to stay like this for longer, until you decide to speak.

“c’mon big guy, pull out.” you tap at his chest gently, pulling him out of his daydream. “we have no idea when maintenance’ll show up.”

he blinks slowly, nodding as he acknowledges your words. it’s almost a damn miracle they hadn’t shown up while satoru was fucking you, but now that the lust had faded away, you almost felt ashamed of yourself.

“yeah just— gimme a second.” he breathes to himself, silently wishing he’d been able to bask in the aftercare with you a little longer. he guesses he should’ve known better than to expect such in an elevator of all places.

you remain quiet and he hates it. did you regret it already? is he back to square one with you?

you bite your lip, “goj— satoru.”

he perks his head up and you swear you see his ears wiggle as if he were a dog. his eyes shimmer with hope and you don’t think he’s ever looked this pretty before, “what’s up?”

“i’m gonna need my panties back, you know.” you nod your head towards his pocket where your lace undergarments were stuffed. “they were my favorite.”

“what a shame, guess you’ll have to grab it another day.” he sighs dramatically, feigning despair. giggling, you feel his fingers drum at your bare waist, “say, maybe friday night around 7pm at your place?”

“guess i have no other choice, do i?” you sigh just as dramatically, pulling him closer by the collar of his wrinkly white button down. he grins so widely your cheeks hurt for him, or maybe they hurt for yourself as you reflected his grin.

“i don’t make the rules baby.”

this was definitely rushed but leave me alone 🖐🏾.

[soangelbaby]

Heya baby! I'll be your first request (I've no clue how many are in your inbox), but how about if Clark sees best friend!neighbour!reader changing through her window? How would he react?

eek i’ve actually been working on something soo similar to this so this is right up my alley fr 😏 thank u pooks for my first req evr so bare w me but ily ilyy, its giving… my biggest supporter ha 🥹

clark watching his bestfriend who is his neighbor change through her window, he’d absolutely relish in it. first time would be an accident, he’d be stargazing with his lil telescope, but then he sees you out the corner of his eye and he’s completely caught off guard, but can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

you’d be fresh out the shower, hair still damp, white towel wrapped around your glistening body, maybe you just got home and haven’t even bothered to close your blinds, completely oblivious to the man watching you on the other side.

you wouldn’t jump straight into changing or finding clothes, you’d sit at your vanity, doing your skincare before bed, moisturizing your hair, and clark would be watching oh so intently, following your every move—he knows it’s wrong, he knows he’s invading your privacy, especially as his best friend, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this, his parents raised him better.

but all that guilt isn’t enough to beat his curiosity, waiting, hoping, you drop the towel, he imagines it falling slowly, just enough to tease him,—wait he has x-ray vision… he could take advantage of this moment right now, and so he does…

while you began blow drying your hair, moving around your room to find a close enough plug, clark started to strip you with his eyes, one flicker of his x-ray vision, and boom—you’re completely bare. clark’s breath hitches as he adjusts his telescope slighty, his free hand drops down to his aching dick, palming himself through his jeans. his eyes almost pop out of his head at your frame, your perfect tits sitting so nice for him, the dip of your spine, the curve of your ass against your little white vanity seat. a tiny flower tattoo on your hip, shit—it’s enough to make him finish right there, his cum seeping through his clothes.

he’s going feral. his hand speeds up, his breath grows heavier, his heart rate increases. “fuck..” he mutters under his breath. his eyes squeeze shut—i mean you’re his bestfriend, he had no business looking at you this way. but all he can think about is if you knew… if you knew he was watching you right now, eye fucking you as you wind down for bed, knew how bad his dick aches for you, how he imagines sliding in and out of your tight pussy, if you knew that he was completely invading your privacy, thinking of all the ways he could take advantage of you… that should be enough for him to stop, to pull his hand away from his throbbing shaft, to shake off these foul thoughts and feelings about you. but it’s not…

instead, it turns him on even more. he imagines the shock on your face at the sight of him so undone for you. would you be disgusted by him? would you feel betrayed and hurt he’s peeking in on you? completely disregarding your friendship and his morals, just defiling it. or would you like it? would you strip for him through your window? would you tease him, knowing just how bad he wants you—fuck that—needs you?

clark lets out a guttural moan as his head drops back, “sh-shiit, fuuck” he makes out as he finishes. his pink lips parted, his cheeks flushed all the same, and his body trying to catch up with his mind. he can’t believe himself, the guilt washes over. he tells himself never again, that next time he won’t let his ‘curiosity’ get the best of him.. but the next morning? he’s sitting at that telescope, his hand already tugging at his shorts, watching you change and get ready for the day…

a/n ; luv this, kinda ties into my pervert clark hc and its just sooo chefs kiss like i want him to stalk me so bad…anywhoo hope you enjoy arty my love, this is for u :P

[heizlut]

Okay, this thing has been in my mind lately... But could you do Semi-Dragon Zhongli and Full legacy Childe with afab!reader? Like dude with their size?? I would die of it and love it at the same time (your writing is so good btw i really love it ngl)

rip to reader because there’s no way she’s getting out of this without being pregnant 💀 also wanted to add little something and make zhongli have two cocks since he IS part dragon during this hehe

Beasts Within

cw: size difference, rough sex, monster cock obvs, forked tongue (zhongli), monster tongue (childe), two cocks (zhongli), anal/vaginal fucking at the same time, throat fucking, honestly rip reader

tags: sub!afab reader, semi dragon!zhongli, foul legacy!childe, dom!chars, mostly proofread, they/them pronouns for reader

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺

You got yourself in quite the situation here. After challenging your boyfriends stating you could handle the both of them at the same time in their inhuman forms, you found yourself sprawled out naked on your large bed.

Childe looms over you in his foul legacy form, eager at the idea presented to him. Zhongli stands with his arms crossed, giving you a stern look, “This is ridiculous. I do not want you to be harmed. You know how different we are when we are not fully human…”

You pout at him, “Come onnn… Don’t ruin the fun. I’ll be just fine.” Childe looks to Zhongli, taking on the same pouty tone you had, “You know you wanna fuck them in your other form. Just do it!” Zhongli huffs, dropping his arms, “Do not say that I did not warn you…” And with that, two curved horns adorn his head, his amber eyes and markings glow, and his fingers become pointed at the tips.

You were obsessed with seeing your men in these forms. Yes, of course you loved them when they looked their usual selves, but something about their otherworldly forms made you ache for them. Zhongli’s narrowed gaze makes you shiver, “There’s no going back from this.”

Childe was the first to make a move as he leaned over you, “Give me a kiss.” You knew the drill, you opened your mouth as his slimy tongue made an appearance. It always felt strange as it licked at your lips, tangling with your own tongue, then forcing it’s way down your throat. You gag from the feeling and tears prick your eyes, but he doesn’t remove his tongue from your throat.

Zhongli moves towards you, taking in the way you looked as you did your best with Childe’s “kissing”. His lips form a smirk as he positions his mouth in front of your soaking pussy. His eyes flit to yours and without a word, his forked tongue licks a stripe through your folds and to your clit.

You buck your hips, wanting more but without the ability to say so. Both men chuckle at this, but Childe is the one who speaks up, “Aww does the needy slut wanna say something?” Your eyebrows scrunch together, unable to make a retort with his long tongue still exploring your mouth. Zhongli spreads your folds carefully with his thumbs, watching as your home clenches around nothing, “It appears you’re in need of more stimulation. I can fix that…”

His forked tongue gathers your arousal and begins to relentlessly flick at your clit. He leans closer, sucking your clit into his mouth and gently nibbling. You whimper and sputter around Childe’s tongue and Childe is kind enough to retreat it. He grasps your jaw in his own pointed fingers, making you look down at Zhongli, “Look closely at what he’s doing to you…” You couldn’t look away even if you wanted to. The way Zhongli’s forked tongue moved so skilfully made your legs shake.

Childe huffs, annoyed at the lack of attention when he was the one who made you look at Zhongli. His grip tightens on you and tilts your head up harshly to look at him, “It’s not fair you’re getting all the pleasure here… Get my cock out.” He releases his grip and allows you do what he demanded all while you were letting out delicious moans from Zhongli’s ministrations.

Once Childe’s cock was freed, you ran your thumb over the slit, gathering pre cum on your fingertip. A groan comes from deep in his chest, the sound deeper than usual in this form. He laced his fingers through your hair, “Suck it. I wanna feel good too.” You fought back from telling him how whiny he was being, knowing that provoking him in this state would not be the brightest idea.

The slutty moan that came from Childe’s mouth pleased you, as you wrapped your mouth around his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip and teasing the slit. The vibrations Zhongli’s dark chuckle went straight to your clit, making you moan around Childe’s length. Zhongli pulls away from your dripping cunt and looks to Childe, “I hate to interrupt but our dear here would be better on her hands and knees, wouldn’t you agree?”

If Childe could glare at him through his mask, he would. He pulls your head away from his cock, grumbling the whole time. You do your best not to laugh as you adjust your position to your hands and knees on the bed. Your amused thoughts were quickly interrupted by Zhongli’s hand making contact with your ass and you gasp. “I do hope you are ready for this…”, his voice deep and laced with a threat.

Before you can ask what he meant, Childe grips your hair yet again, pushing the tip of his dick against your lips, “Get back to it. I’m hardly finished yet.” You obediently open your mouth and he’s quick to shove his dick back down your throat. Distracted by this, you startle when you feel not one, but two cocks behind you. So that’s what Zhongli meant….

Your eyes roll back when you feel Zhongli slip inside your pussy first, but you nearly choke on Childe’s length when you feel Zhongli’s second cock prod at the tight rim of muscle as well. The noises of concern you made around Childe’s thick member didn’t do anything to stop Zhongli from slowly pushing into your ass. Zhongli’s fingertips dig into your hips as he buried himself to the bases of both cocks.

His head tilts back and his eyes squeeze shut, the feeling of being in both holes at once was unreal, “I apologize, but you did ask for this…” Zhongli pulls back then thrusts hard into both just as Childe forces himself deeper down your throat. Both men grunting and groaning in pleasure while you were filled up in every hole. Drool drips down your chin and onto the bed as your mind goes completely blank.

Both men thrust in tandem, causing you to cum uncontrollably on one of Zhongli’s cocks, while your tight asshole squeezed his other cock so tight he was sure it would fall off. He lands another smack to your ass as he growls, “Loosen up or I will not be able to continue.” You do your best to try to relax your body, but it doesn’t help that Childe was throat fucking you now. His large cock slipping down your throat as it tightened around his length involuntarily, “Swallowing my cock like a good little whore. Keep it up and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

You try so hard to keep up with Childe’s forceful pace as Zhongli decides he can move again. It didn’t take long for them to get back into the same rhythm they held before; each cock in and out and the same time. Zhongli’s glowing eyes shoot to Childe in a look that told him he was about to cum. Childe gives a single nod and with a final thrust from both men, loud growls and moans fill the room. Childe’s cum spills down your throat and Zhongli’s shoots into both holes. Never have you been filled to the point of feeling this ridiculously full.

All three cocks begin to soften and slip from your body to which you effectively collapse face first on the bed. Cum leaked from your pussy and ass, a sight that made both of them want to go again. Childe almost suggested it, but when he tilted his head to see your face, you had passed out from exhaustion, making him chuckle as he transformed back into his human form. Zhongli raised a brow, transforming as well, “Are they sleeping?” Childe nods and Zhongli sighs, “Go retrieve the wash cloths, please. Let’s clean them up.”

Hours later, you awoke sandwiched between the two of them. You sigh to yourself with a content smile and snuggle even further into the bed.

⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺˳✧༚🐋 ⋆ᨒ 𓐬⁎⁺

a/n: i loved writing this and i hope you enjoy this anon!!

taglist: @stygianoir

[thehighladywrites]

That's your mother, but she's my wife first…

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...

Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.

Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…

Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.

In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 

They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.

This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.

“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.

 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 

You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 

“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.

 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 

Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 

Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 

His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”

Your husband, ever the general.

With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”

You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”

Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.

Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 

As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.

Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 

Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”

A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”

Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.

“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 

But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 

“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”

 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 

 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.

That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 

You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 

He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.

 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 

He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 

Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 

Huh. 

No wonder you had four kids…

You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.

  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 

You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.

 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.

You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.

“ Don’t cum yet.”

He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.

 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 

You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 

“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”

You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”

Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 

You and your mate, together for all eternity...

[ineylesian]

— FELL ON BLACK DAYS

AVENTURINE X FEM! READER

AO3 | NAVIGATION

WORD COUNT — 9.5k

WARNINGS — spoilers for penacony’s storyline, enemies (??) to lovers, slowburn fr (it gets good i promise) mentions of genocide, mentions of child exploitation (not explicit), weapons & violence, smut, fem anatomy reader, sub!aventurine, mentions of traumatic events, one bed troupe

SUMMARY — Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last. 

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — AHHH i love aventurine so much he made me write again <333 i will defend this man to the end of the earth i swear. also holy word vomit, this is officially my longest piece!!

“BREAKING NEWS: Reports incoming that the International Peace Corporation has been seen with an employee suspected of Avgin origin from the planet Sigonia-IV. All habitants from this world were thought to have been wiped out or lost to the galaxy, so the appearance of this mysterious individual has grasped the attention of–”

The broadcast slowly fades into the background, overtaken by the synth and snare of a song that lightly shakes the ground at your feet. 

Sometimes you’re better of dead–

“Oh, you think you’ll be an asset? You’ll have to learn to make tough decisions on the go here if you want to succeed, so tell me…”

There’s a gun in your hand, it’s pointing at your head–

“You want to help this clan? Help claim this world and rid it from the remaining filth that roams?”

There’s a piercing screech amidst the bar, the high pitched wail of the speaker blasting the music fighting against the volume. A few seconds pass before the song picks back up again, a few lyrics skimmed through.

Which do you choose, a hard or soft option? (How much do you need?)

In a West End town, a dead end world, The East End boys and the West End girls–

“...”

“Before your initiation, you must make a prayer to the winds and mountains. Do you swear to devote your thoughts and beliefs to them, and reclaim the glory of Sigonia-IV?”

We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past

Here today, built to last–

“I swear.”

The bass fades and you’re left standing amidst a crowd of chatting people, some high on buzz, others passed out beside the restroom. Your eyes slowly fix forward, coming to a halt as the masses shift in formation, curving in a circle around the biggest table in the casino. Lined with forest green felt and red chips, hands bang against the surface joined in a cry of frustration. 

“God damn it. This is rigged!” A player screams, hot-faced and teeth grit. “YOU!”

He stomps his way around the table, stopping at the dealer’s chair, failing to gain any attention despite the magnitude of his boots on the floor. In retaliation, the man takes a fistfull of the dealer’s hair, spinning him violently around and grabbing the collar around his neck.

Seldom have there been times where you didn’t see him in this sort of setting, a man with glasses that carried the same orange tint as the drink in his hand, die mounted between his fingers as he speaks with a wealthy patron. His words weave like velvet on a fine tailored suit as he invites you to play a game of chance, and before the game has even begun, you’ve lost.

His name is Aventurine, and, just as his reputation precedes him, the corners of his lips turn upward as you enter his field of view. He is never one to be down on luck.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the casino. The drinks have riled you up a bit too much, and I’m afraid you’re no longer sober enough to keep playing.”

The smell of outlandish alcohol hits your nose in a foul wave as he turns, rudely shrugging your hand off of his shoulder. 

“And who do you think you are? Protecting this weasel like that.” You take a step back as he advances, completely abandoning his grip on Aventurine as his gaze focuses on the emblem tailored to your shoulder. “You’re in on this scam too, aren’t you? Fuckin’ IPC, always looking to take money from people.” A sizable crowd has gathered at this point, and with that, guards are quick to stand at your side. You tilt your head to the side, extending a hand to gesture at the coat draped over his empty chair.

“You may gather your things and leave now, sir. Refusal to comply will result in you being forcibly removed.” 

A few more seconds of seething stares pass before he grumbles an insult toward you and rushes to gather his things, attempting to push the guards following him away. You sigh, turning to the dealer, who is now comfortable in his chair, feathered hat placed neatly on his lap as he shuffles the pool of cards pushed his way.

“Alright folks, now that’s over with, how about another–”

“Mr. Aventurine unfortunately won’t be able to join you all this round.” You quickly cut him off, laying the newly layered deck of cards onto the table. “May I have a word, please?”

The blonde takes a glance between you and the rest of the patrons at the table before nodding, allowing a charismatic smile to decorate his face as he slides the cards forward. 

“Of course. Miss Antonia, would you please find another dealer to step in for the remaining games?”

He gathers a kind nod from a nearby waitress, before turning to follow you outside of the casino. As the door opens, strong drafts of icy wind blow against your face, and you hear a shiver from behind.

“Sheesh, couldn’t we at least have talked inside? I didn’t come prepared to stand in the cold…”

You send a look his way, and Aventurine’s hands rise, lips pursed in faux apology. He pushes his glasses farther into his nose bridge as you lean against the casino’s exterior wall, shielding yourself from the chill. It’s clear he’s not taking you seriously, stifling out a yawn and rubbing his eyes before he even spares you a glance.

“Here to lecture me about the, wait…” His eyes suddenly narrow, honing in on your uniform. “Who are you?”

You remain silent, watching as he taps a few fingers against his forehead, thinking. The talisman of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department sits firmly laid into your uniform. A smoothly carved onyx, inferior to the cornerstone you know he possesses and certainly lacking in power. His eyes linger on the stone for a few moments, biting the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head back up.

“Never seen that stone before..” He says after a few seconds, voice substantially lower. “What rank are you?”

His gaze is opaque, on guard. You resist the urge to bite your lip, figuring lying in this kind of situation wouldn’t be the best decision. Subconsciously, you bring a hand up to your stone, adjusting your coat flap before bringing it back down. 

“P39.”

His eyebrows form a sharp line, but his lips remain flat. The lens behind thick shades linger on the stone, burning into the lights that reflect off of the darkness. He’s never seen someone who isn’t a part of the Ten Cornerstones wear something like this, so who are you?

“If you’re here to try and convince me to do something, I’m not interested. I’ve had enough orders drilled into my head since I came to Jarilo-VI.”

His forefront is confident, but you can see the hand that lingers at his side, struggling to stay put. It reeks of mild uncertainty, and a lack of security. He doesn’t feel safe when he’s not in control.

“I’m here to tell you that your assignment’s changed.” Your response is straight and to the point. There’s no room to betray any underlying feelings of guilt you may have from years passed. “You’ll be with me and my team, we’re going to the Loufu in three days to sort some business out. I suggest you finish your deals here before we go.”

“Well then.” Aventurine clicks his tongue, mild annoyance riding the smile that forms on his lips. “Let’s acquaint ourselves then, shall we? You must know who I am, so please allow me the pleasure of returning the favor.”

A small passage of frosty air rises into the atmosphere as he breathes, hand extending in formality. You take it, slowly shaking, taking in the defensive rise of his shoulders. It seems he has zero tolerance for strangers.

“Nice to meet you, Aventurine. They call this stone the onyx.”

–

The Interastral Peace Corporation only takes workers to be strong-minded and just as toughly willed. In the Strategic Investment Department, greed is a virtue, and wanting nothing but it all is a prayer. Those who earn their spot as a cornerstone will stop at no means to chase their desires. 

Aventurine values risk, but he always loves to have control in his corner. Without control, the chips in his hands are of no use, and his bargains crumble beneath him. 

A gambler's true nightmare, sitting right between his eyes.

Your relation to him is a true mystery, despite all of the digging he’s been doing after arriving at the Loufu. Despite the numerous deals you’ve closed together, he still fails to know anything about you, other than the fact that you have quick wit and fascinating knowledge of the universe. He won’t dare approach you directly, his inhibitions are too high and he knows too little.

However, there’s something off about you and that stone of yours. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen before.

“Does the IPC really need that many funds to perform a vitality check on the Sky-Faring Commission? From what I remember, this is nearly triple the amount of last year’s fee.”

“Well, Helm Master, from what our reports say, you had agreed to the accumulation of interest based on reports of safety in the Loufu. Based on recent events, there has been a substantial raise in alarm concerning the safety of the citizens here. We hope you can understand.”

Aventurine unfolds his hands, sliding a glossy black dossier over to the woman known as Yukong. After skimming over the first page of analysis, she sighs, and places her hand over the cover.

“Is it possible that we could touch bases on this later this week? I need time to look over these documents and discuss them with my team before making any decisions.”

Biting back a groan of exasperation, you nod, politely shaking her hand and bowing your head when she stands. What you thought was going to be a quick excursion of debt collecting had turned into two long weeks of debate, and you’re starting to lose sleep. After Yukong exits, you run a hand through your hair, allowing the flow from the outside to flood your ears..

You can admit, the place they chose is certainly impressive in its theatrics, blooming with tall fountains of pristine water and a live band of foxians playing classical music on a mahogany stage. 

After a few minutes of jotting down notes you find yourself leaning against the bar’s edge, elbows cool against smooth wood. Your thoughts swirl like the vibrato of the woman singing a cover of a local song in a language unknown to you, but it’s calming, and you begin to itch with the desire to order a drink.

The waiter polishing glasses near you seems to pick up on your wants, quietly gesturing with her hand that she’ll take your order.

“A Rose in Rain, please.”

She makes your drink at an astonishing speed, sliding the glass next to your hands with a smile. You stare at the royal blue liquid sitting at the rim, contemplating if the hangover will be worth it.

Aventurine eyes the finger that rests along the base of the glass, humming quietly to himself. He figures there’s no better way to get to know someone than through a few drinks.

“You gonna drink that or keep staring at it?”

You turn your head, watching as he slides onto the barstool next to you. He raises his three outer fingers, ordering a small glass of Wintry Garden before turning to face you.

It’s been a long month with the Cornerstone. His approach remains restricted, evident in his snippets of sarcasm that he still doesn’t trust you. Your situation is… unusual, so you tolerate it. However, there still lies a fear within that he’ll go deeper than what’s for his own good.

“Do you usually drink? Or are you afraid to spill your guts?”

His words drip with conviction, blindly accusing you with the corners of his mouth tilted upward. It’s been too long, and he still doesn’t know a damn thing about you other than the stone you wear. He needs to flip this in his favor, fast.

Aventurine’s fingers drum against the bar’s edge as he picks up his drink, taking a small sip. The slight tilt of his head inclines you to start yours too, drinking half of the tall glass in one swig. His eyebrows raise in surprise when the drink hits the table, taking all but a few seconds to completely down the entirety of its contents, a resounding clink following.

When you don’t rush to finish your own drink, Aventurine chuckles, crossing his arms as he turns to face you fully. He’s eyeing you, daring smile plastered on his face.

“What, scared?”

He’s challenging you. And it works, since your drink is empty and you’re ordering a second round in a matter of seconds. Fizz sluggishly bubbles down your throat, followed by rich spots of thick, clear syrup.

A few drinks is all it takes for you to begin feeling lightheaded, pressing a palm into your eye to try and alleviate the nausea. Aventurine is at least 6 drinks in, setting down his next with an exaggerated sigh. Raising his hand for another, he lightly dings his glass against yours, the scent of redsunset sauce high on his breath.

“Let’s talk, Onyx.” He remarks, placing his hands on the table as the bartender comes over. “What’s the real deal with you? How come I haven’t seen you anywhere in the IPC and you show up in my faction one random day?”

You cough, attempting to clear your throat before you answer. It’s tough to keep your resolve with the amount of alcohol in your system.

“Maybe you’re just not perceptive enough, I’ve always been around.”

It’s clear he doesn’t like your answer. Another drink down.

“How many years have you worked for the IPC?”

“Almost 4 now.”

“What’s the entrance project that got you into the Strategy Department?”

You hesitate, and he grins, satisfied. This interrogation is going as planned.

“Well then? I’m sure it couldn’t have been that bad, unless you’re more dangerous than you seem.”

It’s your turn to down a drink, wiping a small trace off of your chin as you think.

“Izumo.” You answer, short, watching as his fingers clasp tighter around the glass in his hand. Surprise.

“You really expect me to believe that?” He scoffs, a tinge of fire evident in his voice. “No one goes to Izumo any more, not after the slash.”

“You’d be surprised at the sheer amount of people that go to Magatsu no Morokami to uncover history. The IPC has their eyes set on valuable relics left behind from the war.”

He leans forward, dangerously close to your face. Past the thick orange lens of his aviators, you can see the irate spark in his eyes, alight with a plethora of shades you’ve never seen before.

“It’s not wise to lie to your superiors.”

You back away, sliding your card across the counter to the bartender. The moment Aventurine gets up to follow, you stop in your tracks, holding a small drive in his direction. You have some tricks up your sleeve, too.

“You’ll change your mind.”

He pauses, slightly bent over in a stupor of alcohol. 

“Best keep your cards close to your chest, Aventurine. Snooping in places you don’t belong bodes bad fortune.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, he takes the drive from your hand, leaning back onto the bar’s surface, eyebrows knit in thought. The world is suddenly too loud and amidst a flurry of harmonic bellows and blinding lights, you disappear. 

—

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGY INVESTMENT DEPARTMENT HQ | ONE MONTH LATER

“I guess I should apologize.”

Several weeks of absence. You look up from the papers on your desk, watching as Aventurine places your drive back on your desk. He straightens back up, waiting for you to respond.

“Understandable.” You answer, finalizing a document with a quick signature. “I would have had my apprehensions too.”

“Still do, but it’s better to work with someone you tolerate, right?”

You look up. He shrugs, eyeing the papers you have scattered around.

You had given him a flash drive with your report on Izumo, or, at least, a report on it. Sometimes things are left best buried. Still, Aventurine is certainly not stupid, and you know that. The final version of the report is vague and full of small incidents that contrast the planet’s true history There are inconsistencies, but he seems a little less hostile for the time being.

“Whatever you’re hiding from me, I intend to find out in due time. But I can’t do that if we’re at odds.” A hand is extended your way, held a little less straight and professional. “Let’s just try and hate each other a little less, huh?”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you take his hand and shake it for the second time. Aventurine smiles at you, a little less pointedly, but still on guard.

“Friends it is, then.”

His grip tightens slightly at the proclamation, leaving your veins seared and eyes wavering. As if you just made a deal with the devil. Your gaze drags along the fancies of his coat, figuring this is just another gamble he’s won. Something closer to certain death; the passion for it intrigues you.

Sooner or later you’ll suffer the consequences of a lie, you tell yourself. There’s no good outcome when striking up an agreement with a gambler, especially one like Aventurine.

Especially when the gambler is holding a knife to your throat.

The blade is cool, barely holding back from your trachea. Leather gloves hold a fistfull of your hair, shoving you down onto the filing cabinet you were sifting through moments before. Your eyes dart around, only able to see the edge of his shoe pressing against your ankle and the papers you dropped scattered across the floor.

“Just as I thought we were getting along.” His spits, words slithering around your chest and settling around your neck. “It was only a matter of time before you slipped up.”

Confusion spreads across your features, and Aventurine scoffs. His shoe digs deeper into your achilles, and you stagger against the metal. 

“What the Hell are you talking about?” Your words come out choked, gasping for air against Aventurine’s hold.

“That man, the one you had a long conversation with at the meeting tonight? You two seemed to get along.” Aventurine’s breath runs short out of anger, grip scalding against your skin. “You know him, don’t you?”

You close your eyes, tracing the night’s events back several hours. You only recall shaking two men’s hands, one being the esteemed Doctor Ratio’s, and the other the reason why you were down in the IPCs archives. He was dressed nothing short of what a gentleman would wear, offering you many commending words as he spoke of the recent inflation concerning the astral economy. However, you didn’t miss the brilliant stone embedded in the shell of his tie, reflecting vibrant colors you’ve only seen once in your lifetime. And neither did he.

“Pretty stone isn’t it?.” Aventurine continues, pressing your hands against the wall you’re shoved against. “I’ve seen it a lot throughout my lifetime, but I’m sure you know that already. Silly me, forgetting how easy it is to conceal them.”

He reaches for your shoulder, and you push back, using the slightly stagger of his feet to grab the blade’s edge, violently smashing your head into his and spinning him around. His blade traded for your stone. 

“I’d like to know…” His fingers flip the stone around, taking in the colorless mass, like a void amidst the stars. With a quick swipe of his hand, a lighter is held to it, engulfing the black in a dance of pale fire. Aventurine shakes the rising smoke off of him after a few moments, and your eyes narrow.

“...Why you have this?”

Turquoise meteorite, a brilliant blue stone infused with veins of a green just as bright. A kind of beauty that could only be found on Sigonia, tailored in a way only an Avgin could. The crafter spoke of a tactic that could hide the stone’s true color, while keeping its spirit alive with you still. 

Blood drips from your hand, staining your clothes a deep crimson. Gritting your teeth together, you slice a sleeve of your dress shirt off, slowly wrapping it around the wound. 

Aventurine stands, still, fury riding his waterline. His glasses sit beside his feet, hues of purple and blue wavering in the dim light. His hand slowly clenches, in and out, smoothing the cooled piece over his palm.

“What now, Katican?” His voice is quiet, gently ricocheting off of concrete walls. “Came to settle one last score, fulfilling your dream of tracking down the last Avgin? Oh, I bet you’re itching to use that knife right now.”

You step to the side, shaking bloodstained papers off of your feet. The knife drops to the ground, scraping cruelty against the ground as you kick it to a corner far out of your reach. A sharp intake of breath follows, and he steps back.

“I’m no Katican.” Your tone is low, locking eyes with Aventurine, his gaze darts from the knife to you. “The stone was a gift from an Avgin I saved during the second extinction.”

The air is stale, prickling with fear as you pass. Aventurine stands tall, but you know all too well that his greatest fear has come alight in this very room. The thought of coming face to face with a Katican chases him in his nightmares each dusk, a terror looming over his head akin to a raging storm. For once, he’s speechless, completely dumbstruck, mind racing to comprehend all that you’ve bestowed upon him. So little said, yet so great a burden unveiled. 

You would be right in telling him that such information is better left buried. Yet Aventurine knows only how to shatter the destiny that calls for him, and monumental change has left in its wake.

He opens his mouth to speak, yet words fail him. The hand holding the stone sits slotted behind his back, holding on to it as he would a birthright. A piece of his past that would never bless him again, sitting in the shade of Sigonia’s darkest nights, mimicking a color that does not belong to it. He wants to scream, take his knife and shove it so hard into your chest that it comes out on the other side. 

“I am on your side, Aventurine. I always have been.”

After forcing himself to swallow, he straightens up, but you’re already gone.

Distantly, a heavy thud hits the floor.

–

TUMBLEWEED, SALSOTTO.

“I’m Daisy, here this morning with Tumbleweed’s daily weather report. As usual, there’s sun about. However, a rude awakening is coming at around 6pm, as a pretty hefty thunderstorm is coming our way. Make sure you carry your umbrellas! And remember, as our beloved Fleetworld Marc says, thunder only happens when it’s destined.”

Destiny. The word lingers in your head as a pang of hunger hits your insides. Placing your last suitcase beside your bed, you set off for your hotel room’s kitchen. Reaching over and opening a cabinet, you groan when it reveals itself to be empty. 

Shrugging your coat over your shoulders, you pocket your room card. However, when you open your door, you’re quick to step back, feeling your heart rate spike instantly in shock. 

“Uh…” You take a few short breaths, regaining your composure. “Can I help you?”

The man standing before you is no other than Aventurine, chin receding as he looks at you with evident confusion.

“Can I help you?” He retorts, flipping his hotel card up to the light. “This is my room.”

You pull the exact same card out of your pocket, and the two of you share looks of bewilderment. After reading over the numbers on your card for what felt like the 50th time, Aventurine sighs, long and drawn out. 

“Well, this isn’t what I imagined when the front desk told me they could fit a room in for me.”

“I’ll go ask–”

You’re cut off with a swift wave of his hand.

“Don’t bother, I already did. They’re fully booked for the next week.”

Before you know it, both Aventurine and his bags are heading into your… your room. Exhaling, you mutter a quiet “okay..” and follow him inside. However, he’s quick to stop you once you make it past the bathroom, exaggeratedly pointing toward the wall to your right.

“This has to be some kind of joke, right?” Aventurine laughs, pulling his glasses off as if attempting to see better. 

His gaze is fixed on the bed sitting across from you. The single bed, accompanied with a single nightstand and a TV. In that moment, you both share a second groan, and Aventurine palms his face.

“I’ll figure this out.”

In a matter of moments, he’s gone, suitcases set haphazardly on the ground beside you. After a few minutes of thought, you head to the bathroom, soaking your hands in cold water. A brief inhale follows the icy chill that drags over your face, and you silently curse destiny. 

A few hours pass before Aventurine returns, shirt slightly ruffled, annoyance clearly displayed upon his features. The click of boots melds into the soft step of socks as he enters the kitchen, and you silently pass a bowl of fried rice you had been able to scavenge from a local grocery store over. Running a hand through his hair, he nods your way, sliding into the stool across from you and stopping the bowl with his fingers.

“As you could have guessed, there are zero people in this whole building willing to switch rooms with us.”

“Ah, yeah. Tourists are usually snobby.”

A hum signifies his response. Silence encompasses the room as a blanket would, save the soft clangs of silverware on bowls. You fix your gaze on the granite countertops, following intricately woven lines of mixed stone and drawing patterns in each section you come across. Becoming so immersed in the cracks, you don’t even notice when Aventurine passes you twice, once with his bowl, and once without. Seconds turn into minutes as you stare at the sheet of stone, only taken away from thought when he returns to the table, dressed in a black set of silk pyjamas. 

“What’s your story?”

Your eyelashes flutter, taken aback by the sudden inquiry. Raising your head, you push the now cold rice to the side and glance at the man across from you, fingers interlocked in wait. 

You’re shocked at the simplicity of it. The lack of accusations are a breath of fresh air when it comes to his words, typically cold fronted and dripping with malice. You would expect him to be angry still, perhaps even worse, giving that you lied, but you can feel the genuine curiosity lingering within. He seems to want to understand.

“I joined the IPC when I was young, almost ten years ago.” You start, fighting the urge to snap away from his gaze. “In my second year, word was out that there was trouble on Sigonia. It was thought that the IPC had it under control, but everyone knew there was something else coming.”

You pause. Aventurine remains quiet, attentive.

“I took it upon myself to convince my superiors to send me to Sigonia, despite their warnings. But… the work we did there, it wasn’t enough. I could help no one under the bounds of the IPC, so I sought out the Katicans. No more bounds. I was on the inside, where I could do things my own way.”

“Such lovely people, weren’t they?” He questions, apathy leaking from deep within. “Didn’t have a single care in the world other than themselves. They wanted to see everything burn, the women, children.”

“I have never seen a deeper hatred than what lies within them.”

You stop, again, toying with your fingers. Aventurine’s silence beckons you to proceed.

“I could only help so many, and they all ended up dying anyway. There was no escaping them, they were ruthless.” Your voice trails off, shaking your head slightly at the recollection of dark days in the wasteland they call Sigonia. No horrors match the ones that took place there. “I couldn’t imagine what you went through, any of you. And still, you’re alive.”

A word softly chants in your head. Destiny.

“Ever since I was born, I knew what was made out for me was never good.” Aventurine says, a hint of irony in his voice. “I fell on black days without knowing what it was like to live on the other side, and it’s been like that since.”

Flashes of your past mix in with current thought. You remember them, the Avign children, clinging to scraps of life even when it was evident their lives would soon end. Their eyes, just as brilliant as his, drowned by crashing waves, yet afloat on the prayer of hope. You imagine Aventurine was just like them, and you understand. Anger breeds and it seethes.

“How do you control it?” Such a simple question, yet so many answers. 

“I put it all into risk. Every single last bit of it. I gambled, and I won.” His pointer finger gently hits the table, and he raises his hand to wave it through the air. “I survive, and I bet again.”

“A bold motto, I must say.”

A small smile graces his features, shrugging lightheartedly.

“Luck seems to be on my side.”

You look to the side at the sound of a crack, noticing that rain has started to fall. The sky is obscured by deep grays, and the rumble beckons you to the sliding door separating you from the balcony. The crash of drops on concrete is soothing to your ears, bestowing a peace upon your heart you’ve failed to find for a while now. The serenity thickens as Aventurine steps to your side, the hues in a ring of his eyes reflecting the storm outside.

“I didn’t rain much back then.” He muses, gaze following the slow drizzle of fallen streaks on the balcony’s edge. “A privilege I can keep alive, now that I see it so often.”

You look to the side, meeting Aventurine’s eyes halfway. The corners of his lips turn up as he looks past you, covering his mouth as he stifles a yawn.

“Almost forgot about the bed.” He laughs, running a hand over his lower face. “You can have it, I’ll be okay on the floor.”

“Absolutely not!” You counter, head tilting in defiance. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“That would be extremely impolite of me.”

“As it would be for me…”

“Will you please just sleep on the bed?”

“I brought extra pillows! I’ll be more comfortable than you on the floor.”

Aventurine stops, sending you a half lidded look. You walk over to your suitcase, swiftly pulling the two large pillows you packed out, holding them at your sides. He walks over to you, snatching a pillow out from one of your arms before walking toward the bed.

“Or, how about this?” He shoves your pillow on top of the hotel provided one. “We put the extra pillows on the bed, and we both take a half.”

You purse your lips, and shrug in reason. After patting your pillow into place, you climb onto the bed, turning on your side to ensure you’re only taking up half of the bed. 

As you land on your other shoulder, you nearly touch noses with Aventurine. He chuckles, eyebrows raising in a teasing manner.

“It’s not often someone gets the chance to be this close to me.”

You groan, tugging the coarse blanket to your chest as you flip to your front. Stifling a few chuckles, Aventurine turns so his back is facing you.

Within a few minutes, quiet snores begin to drift through your ears. You sigh, and roll your eyes. And yet, only peace visits you in your dreams.

–

There have been few nights of your stay in Salsotto without rain. You’ve grown accustomed to the melodic pad of morning to the erratic roar of the night. This night is different, however, as dew is high in the air but the clouds of the afternoon are white, tainted with swirls of pink that bode better weather. 

You fumble with the pearls on your neck, carefully positioning them so they rest on your collarbone. All IPC events require a clearance of wear that is above the standard grade of formal, nothing short of extravagant, explaining the fine tailored suit you wear over your dress. Ivory on cream, a palette that bodes well when making business deals. 

Heels click on pavement, Tumbleweed’s National Museum in sight. Golden lights cast the establishment in an elegant glow, and the stream of classical cello welcomes your ears as you approach. Welcoming smiles are given your way as you enter the building, and you start a long night of shaking hands and business chatter with the esteemed mechanical aristocrat Screwllum. 

Leisure chats of the Genius Society’s next project flow in and out of wine chutes, with gentle opera joining new deals of funding. Another hand shake bodes your farewell to a philanthropist from the Herta Space Station, and you take a seat at one of the tables nearby, attempting to gather your thoughts. Sipping on a glass of sparkling rose, you start jotting down tonight’s business proposals onto your phone.

“Having fun?”

You look up, offering a smile toward your temporary hotelmate as you pull the chair next to you back.

“Was wondering when I’d run into you, Aventurine.” You say, clinking glasses with the blonde. “How many deals have you clinched tonight?”

“More than you, I bet.” You scrunch your nose, folding your arms after sliding your phone his way. Aventurine takes a look through your notes, smile expanding on his face as he progresses.

“...And it seems I would be right.” He exclaims, holding up two full hands. “Don’t feel bad. It’s the natural charm.”

“Mhm. Super natural, and not annoying at all.” You quip, earning a light jab in the shoulder.

Your past two weeks with Aventurine had proved to be an easier feat than you had thought. Beside the snoring (that you had learned to tune out), he had served as a good source of company, squandering your worries of lingering grudges as you spent more time around one another. You were grateful he had the will in his heart to see the reason behind what you had done, although you were a little surprised to see that he had forgiven you with such ease. 

Now, to you, he seemed to be an easy soul forced to carry burdens that were undeserving of him. 

“Hey.”

You’re roused from your thoughts by the gentle tap of Aventurine’s foot against your heel. He cocks his head, and you’re suddenly aware of the soft serenade filling the room, sung by an artist famous for this piece.

“Let’s get our minds off of business for a while. Care to dance?”

He straightens his jacket before standing up, beckoning you to do the same. You accept the hand outstretched, threatening to roll your eyes as Aventurine lays his other on your back, guiding you to the floor.

“Trying to show off?” 

Aventurine slowly spins you into a shroud of spotlight, laughing when your eyes go wide from the precision of his arms slowing you back down. 

“Of course.”

A look is shared between the two of you, and the dance begins. You recognize the piece, Seid Umschlungen, Millionen! (Be Embraced, You Millions!), and fall into a sort of waltz, slow, quick, slow. Your feet move in a symphony of chirping violin and cello vibrato, swirling carefully around other dancers as you step from box to box. 

The music quiets in a moment of repose, and you slow, winding your hands around his neck as you sway, in wait. 

“What’s with the long face?”

The question catches you off guard, as you weren’t aware that your thoughts had reflected off of your face. Lips pursing, you wonder whether taking the chance and ruining the moment is worth it, but the question nags deep within, festering like a cancer that will not cease until it is freed. 

“Do you forgive me?”

Strings echo and rise; Aventurine fits a hand behind your back before spinning you into dance. His eyebrows are furrowed lightly, as if your question had caught him off guard in some sort of way, but you both knew it was coming. Trust is an uncertain entity, not easily won or wagered, never certain in whether it’s attained or lost. Forgiveness is a trial for trust, and within inquiry lie a question of deeper truth that never made it to the surface

Do you hate me, Aventurine?

There have been many times in the passing days where you’ve been questioned about your time in Sigonia-IV. A test to determine whether your actions deserved merit. Recounting stories of countless lives you worked tirelessly to save at the risk of your own. Gallons of blood stained on your hands from the guilty, those whose karma ran the empty river beds of the desert red. 

So much, and yet nothing at all. It’s as if life is out to play some game of twisted fate, as you see all of the lives you could not save in the man right before you. The brand slightly hidden by his collar and wispy blonde, jewelry glittering at his wrists, irises that shine in the darkest of nights. Bewitching, yet so alive. 

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He says, after some time. “You did a brave thing, I would be a fool to condemn you for it.”

Elation. It’s the feather touch of his hands, graceful in the way they dip you, nearly stopping time as you lay suspended. Your eyes lock, and you nearly drown in the glow of lavender and maya that stare back. Slowly, you feel one of his hands leave your back, dipping in his suit pocket and coming to rest in your vision. 

“Their memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.”

You’re lifted to stand, and, amidst a rather slow spin, Aventurine pins the turquoise meteorite you’d thought was long gone onto the span of dress fabric above your chest. The resounding smile shared is trust.

You twirl and sink until the song comes to an end, stopping in a hold of hands and interlocked legs as orchestra is overtaken by voice. In the midst of fading spotlight, your breath evens out, and you find yourself following the gambler’s hand to escape the noise, elbows brushing on a balcony railing as you stare out into the fading daylight.

The sky is tinged with the baby blue of afternoon, arising into a deep interweave of violet and blush. A small, red casino chip flips between Aventurine’s fingers, rolling to sit between his pointer and thumb in short pauses.

“Got any tricks up your sleeve, gambler?”

Aventurine tilts his head to the side, invigorated by the rise of your lips, challenging, daring. The game you propose has risk, but what is life without taking leaps blind? Aventurine is sure he can see you now, after all.

With a flip of the chip and a wave of his hand, the red disappears, and a cool sensation lands firmly on your lips. His face is inches away from yours, fingers gently pressing against the chip that severs the distance between you.

“There are tricks to any risk, as long as you know what you’re doing.”

You raise your hand, sliding the chip from your mouth and palming it. When he doesn’t move, you tug on his collar, chin tilting upward to press your lips to his. The sensation is warm, gentle, as if you tread on ice that threatens to shatter. Honey sears your tongue, and you revel in the touch of his lips, soft as the velvet of his tie.

The moment is all too short, yet your mouth feels numb as you break away. In a moment of silence, you take the hand that sits lightly clamped around your wrist, sliding the chip in his palm and closing his fingers.

“I think I’ll be gambling a lot with you, Aventurine.”

His face moves closer, and you look down for a moment, noticing the hand that sits behind his back.

“I look forward to it.”

–

INTERASTRAL PEACE CORPORATION, STRATEGIC INVESTMENT HQ | TWO MONTHS LATER

Knock, knock.

“Coming.”

The door opens in fluid motion, revealing a room cast in gloom, tan shade, blinds drawn. 

“Hey, Aven.” You sigh, placing a chaste kiss on the blonde’s cheek. “Long day?”

“Long day.” He mirrors, offering to take the stack of papers off of your hands. You accept, slipping into the chair across from his desk. “Are you done for today?”

“Mhm.” 

Aventurine sits in his desk chair, shrugging the navy coat he sports onto the back. You stretch your arms behind your back, watching as deft hands undo the cross hatched tie representing the cornerstones from his collar. As he sets the piece down, his office phone starts to buzz, and he groans.

“Hello, this is Aventurine… Uh huh, what time?” He draws circles into ebony, holding the phone to his shoulder as he reaches for a notepad. However, as he clicks the pen in his hand, he nearly drops the phone, clearly startled. “Can you repeat that? Si- okay. I’m coming.”

In a flurry of movement, he stands, tie and coat snatched. 

“We have to go, right now.”

His tone is impatient, brimming with anxiety and unwilling to contest. You blink a few times before following him out of his office, grabbing his coat to hold onto as he fits his tie back to his shirt. The walk is silent, save a quiet “thank you” when you hand the coat over and the click of shoes on tile. Your nerves rise as you move, watching the way he frets with his gloves, tugging on the ends repeatedly. 

In a matter of minutes, you arrive at the boardroom of the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, stopping at the edge of the table as Jade turns around, followed by a concerned looking Topaz.

“Ah, Aventurine. What a surprise, I was sure not to include your name in the list of attendees tonight.“She sends a look to the white haired cornerstone, before directing her gaze to you. “Unfortunately, ranks below P40 are prohibited from attending this meeting. Guards, please see her out.”

You push against the guard that seizes your wrist, but are unable to resist as more come to his aid. After having the door shoved in your face, you’re dragged to the hallway outside of the meeting hall, forced to sit in wait. 

30 minutes. Another 30. An hour before the doors open, with Aventurine first, Topaz following close behind. He rushes past you, eyes on the ground, gone within seconds. Concern etches your features as Topaz runs up to you, lips pursed in distress,

“Aventurine-” She pauses, hand on her chest as she catches her breath. “Please go after him. You’re the only one that he’ll see now, after what just happened.”

“What happened?”

At your inquiry, she shakes her head, nodding her head toward the direction Aventurine took off in.

“It’s best you hear it from him. But, please, go see him tonight, he needs someone who’s close to his heart.”

Worry is quick to seep into your features, but you nod. A quick visit to his office and you’re off, taking the next jet off of Pier Point, to Klimt Republic. Weaving through streets and bullet trails full of life, you arrive in the heart of Klimt just two hours later, standing on the penthouse floor of an apartment complex worth more than the entire block you’re on.

Knock, knock.

Silence. You hesitate, and knock again. 

The shuffling of feet hit the floor, and you wait in anticipation, hands firmly at your sides as the noise stops. After a few moments, the door slowly opens, and you sigh in relief.

Aventurine stands, slightly hunched against the doorframe, hair disheveled, eyes red and irritated.

“Aven, what happ-”

A pair of hands seize your wrist, tugging you inside and slamming the door behind you. 

“Not now.” Your eyes widen at the plea in his voice, whole with a basal need that makes your chest tighten. “Please, just, make me forget about it right now.”

He looms over you, yet the shadow he casts is the antonym of threatening. Fear reeks off of him like vodka, as tears brim on his waterline. The feeling spreads to your skin like wildfire, and you feel him shake as you take his face in your hands, breathing shallow and scared.

The first taste of his lips is sweet, but the salt of his tears is quick to sink in. Clumsy and trembling, your bodies rock and hit walls as you make your way to his bedroom. You throw his coat to the side as he does yours, pushing him down onto his bed as you break for air. 

Aventurine’s hair flows out around him as he falls onto the mattress, shrouding him as a halo would. You chase after him, littering his neck with soft bites that elicit soft groans from the skin beneath. You unbutton half of his shirt before diving for his collarbone, reveling in the whines that respond as you nip and bruise. 

His hands reach for your pants, and you stop him before he can reach for your panties. 

“Ah-ah, hands behind your head.” Your voice pools out smooth, running a hand down his shirt. “Just relax and let me take care of you.” 

Gently pinning his hands above him, you let go, and he complies. You reward him with a kiss, messy and careless, pulling a string of saliva between your lips when you leave them. Your free hand pushes hair out of his eyes while the other works on the zipper of his slacks, watching as his fingers lock together as you apply pressure.

A shudder leaves Aventurine’s lips as you pull his boxers down, hand gently running along the length of his dick. Teeth tug at lips as you spit on your hand, working at his cock while running your free fingers along your folds. His neck lifts up as your hands move faster, and you grin, choking the noises that threaten to spill from your mouth at the display before you.

A sight like heaven, an angel laid out for worship. Aventurine’s skin is coated in a soft sheen of sweat that shines in the dim light, hand laid over one eye whilst the other remains barely open. Under the mix of hues that resemble wild fields of flowers, blush coats his cheekbones, a light to the darkness that blooms on his neck. The vulnerability of it makes your heart soar, and you feel a fire ignite in the depths of your being that fails to stoke.

The hand that toys with your clit lifts, prodding at Aventurine’s mouth as you lower yourself on his cock. Muffled whines vibrate around your fingers, and you moan at the fullness that envelops you. You swirl your fingers in his mouth, biting on your cheek as his tongue wraps around them, sucking on the sweet taste of you. 

His hands abruptly reach up, fingers winding and tangling in hair as they pull you down, replacing fingers with lips. The sensation is hot, as if an unquenchable balm has set your skin alight. 

“Feel good?”

“What kind of- ughh- question is that?” 

You clench around him as if it's instinct, and Aventurine calls your name as he would a prayer. His moans are akin to song, divine in melody, alluring in a way that shuts your mind off from anything else but him. One of his hands leaves your hair, fingers clumsily clamping around your own, holding you like fine china. 

The stretch of his dick does little to quench the hunger within, you crave more, a devout worshiper crying a hymn of need. Your motion becomes erratic, a twist of limbs and friction that siphons tears that streak down your cheeks, falling to mix in with the sweat on your lover’s face.

“Gonna-” Aventurine chokes on his own words, eyes shut harshly as he blinks back ecstasy. “Cum.”

Your words are lost to you, only managing to groan in response as Aventurine pulls you back to him. His lips seal over yours in a searing kiss, arms winding around your back to hold you still as your orgasm shakes you. White light flashes through closed eyes as you spasm around his dick, mixing with the cum that leaks inside of you. 

The room is quiet, save the howling wind of night and the dance of unstable breath. Blankets shuffle as you drop to Aventurine’s side, allowing him to drape your discarded shirt over your bare chest. Time seems to cease as you meet his gaze, touch serene as the plains of distant worlds as he encourages you to come closer. You accept, eyes closing for a moment, feeling the warm fan of his breath over your nose.

“The IPC is funding a project to excavate Sigonia.” The silence breaks, peace shatters and your eyes snap open. “Turquoise meteorites are rare, so they’ll scrape the whole planet dry until every last piece is gone.”

Your face falls, corners of your lips pulling downward. Aventurine’s eyes are half lidded, seemingly already accepting the fate of the planet he calls home. He refuses to look your way, eyes focused somewhere past you, the sorrow spreads and leaks into your soul as it opens further. A place so full of hatred and loss, yet a place that he will never be able to let go of. It burrows within the deepest neurons, refusing to snap and forget.

“You have to say something, Aven.” You pull at his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Whatever you have to do, I’ll help you.”

“The IPC doesn’t have time to listen to Avgin.” He sighs, hope stale on his breath. “Not even if it's the last one alive.”

You still, fingers falling to rest against his cheek. Aventurine’s eyes close, brows furrowing lightly against pale skin.

“Sigonia will fall, and only Kakavasha will remain.”

Defeat. It seems that what events occurred in that meeting room left no room for conversation. Guilt flows through your veins like it’s replaced the red, and your chest aches, latching onto the horror that no doubt holds sovereignty in his head.

Kakavasha. Blessed by the heavens yet cursed by the living world. Such a beautiful name that deserves no hell it endures. 

Amidst the quietude, Aventurine’s hand slithers under the blankets, latching onto your wrist. He traces skin, knuckles brushing against your own, coming to rest intertwined.

“Can we try something?”

You nod, and your hand is slowly lifted to the air, palm against palm between your chests. You’ve seen this motion back on Sigonia, yet it’s always remained distant to you, and the words echo in obscurity. 

“I’ll go through it once, and we can do it together.”

You nod, once more. Aventurine closes his eyes for a moment, reciting a prayer lost to you in time.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

A brief pause passes. You sigh in unison, and lock eyes. A voice whispers within the depths of your mind, and you smile.

The memory is always alive somewhere. It’s up to us to keep it.

“May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you… keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful… and your schemes be forever concealed.”

As the last words drift off of your lips, you bend your fingers, slotting them between his. Aventurine shares your sentiment; hope flashed in the gentle smile that graces his lips. Your eyes wander, and notice that a single tear trails down his face, disappearing into his skin as it rolls.

Outside, you hear the crack of thunder. You pull Aventurine in, and in your clutch, the downpour begins.

–

Some months later…

The chatter of voices on the phone rouses you from sleep, rubbing a hand over your eyes in annoyance as you come to. Light spills through drawn curtains and open glass doors, filtering the room in hues of honey and hazel. 

“Mhm. Alright, I understand. Let’s schedule the interview for today.”

Songs of canaries and mourning doves flow through the air, and you sit up, raising a hand to block out the sun’s gaze. Aventurine sets his phone down on the bedside table, stifling a yawn with his hand. You roll onto your side, hand propped up onto your chin as you soak in the sight of your lover.

His hair is slightly ruffled from sleep, bangs astray and cast into his eyes. Only the top button of his sleep shirt is buttoned, leaving lean, sun kissed skin on display. 

“It’s rude to stare, you know.” You roll your eyes, allowing him to pull you in for a kiss. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You hum, knowing full well tonight has been one of the worst nights you’ve slept yet. Aventurine sees right through you, but chooses to say nothing, opting to pull you forward so half of your body drapes over him.

Today Aventurine leaves for Penacony. And, seeing as he was called in for a meeting, he’s probably leaving even sooner now. 

He seems to read your thoughts, offering a comforting peck to the corner of your lips in apology. Your hands card through his hair, head resting against his collarbone. 

You have your apprehensions about Penacony, having heard whispers on the streets of mysterious disappearances of people in the world’s famous dreamscape. The IPC has had a limited number of run-ins with the family, leading you to assume a recent grounds of suspicion has arised, and Aventurine was chosen as the solution. In his eyes, it’s just another gamble of life or death.

You’re roused from your thoughts by a tap on your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” His words do little to soothe you, but you listen regardless. “The risks I take are always foolproof.”

Risk. It’s the word Aventurine lives by, a motto that claws at your heart when he’s gone. A reality that spills tears when he closes the door to your apartment, leaving only the ache of your heart in his absence. A danger that never guarantees the next time he chases his destiny will not be his last. 

You will never fight to change it, because that’s all it is. Destiny.

His phone rings, and the two of you groan before he gets up and tells the person on the other line that he’s on his way. You watch from his side of the bed as he throws his clothes on, grabbing two packed suitcases from the side of the bed before bending over to give you a kiss. The touch of his lips is bittersweet, nearly taunting as it is over before it even begins. You peck him again, running a hand over his hairline to straighten his bangs.

“Be safe out there, Aven.”

He smiles, so radiant it rivals the sun and all that it shines on. You think yourself blessed to see it survive.

“I will. Luck is always on my side.”

And he leaves. You turn to the window, awaiting the rain.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Hun something else I want to ask is if you would do a hybrid dragon Yan..? Forgot to mention it in the last ask because I forget ideas a lot <3

-from the one anon who said to use 3 names you like :)!

P.s I’ll probably refer to myself as this forever now hun

I'm sorry this took so long!! Here it is:

CW: mild violence, video game logic

Yandere!Dragon x GN!Reader

The winds in the mountains were cold enough to slice open skin and leave blisters.

Traveling up towards the sky was (Reader), a warrior known throughout the lands for their incredible feats, climbing up the snowy pass towards the dark splotch on their map.

The dragon's lair.

Only human in appearance, (Reader) had slaughtered almost every type of monster and fiend in the continent, sending fear through all living beings. They were rumored to be immortal, since they seemed to be capable of recovering from any wound they received, no matter how critical. Whatever life threatening hit they took, and no matter how certain their death seemed to be, (Reader) would only black out, waking a few hours later. A warrior without a past, without a home, who only lived to kill.

Slaying a dragon would be the last creature on the killer's list, having already defeated deities and apocalypse level threats. It wasn't that a dragon would be harder than killing a god; they just hadn't gotten around to it.

In the grand scheme of life, dragon slaying would be a side quest.

(Reader) doubted that the battle would be difficult in any sort of sense; aside from their incredible physical attributes they also had legendary gear such as "the Ring of Absolution" which was forged from the tears of a Golden Warrior. That ring alone made it impossible for enemies to block their attacks or use "break out" to parry.

Upon finding the cave and entering recklessly, (Reader) wished that someone had told them sooner:

That "when you're at the top, the only place to go is down.."

A blast of fire knocked their helmet off their head as the heat pushed them back. Shocked (and a little excited) the warrior raised their vampiric sword. Inside the cave, a giant red and golden dragon sat posed, muscles tense and eyeing the invader with intrigue.

"Who are you, to enter my home?" His deep voice sounded more confused than offended. And when (Reader) pointed their weapon at him in response, he chuckled. "Adorable little human, if you wish to live a long life, leave this cave now, and I shall spare you."

(Reader) shouted, igniting a glowing light around their body, then lunged, slashing at the beast.

To the dragon's surprise it hurt.

"Foul little thing!" He snarled, attempting to blast the human with another bolt of flames (this time not as a warning) but the fighter rolled out of the way, effectively dodging the attack. (Reader) thrust again, angering the dragon when he found that he could not block the sword, the blade passing his harder scales and hitting his soft flesh despite his guarding.

Amidst the rage and frustration a new emotion began forming within the centuries young being; respect.

There were no dragons he wished to associate with, there were no creatures that approached him of their own free will. He was alone. For a very, very long time. For he was not just a dragon..

He was Targov the Malicious.

A dragon of legend, ender of nations, killer of kings..

And his health was slowly being chipped away by the steel of a mortal.

(Reader) did not know who the dragon was, only that this was the closest location for a dragon nest.

"Small human.. I have a proposition for you."

The warrior paused, tilting their head as they waited for the dragon to continue.

"You have impressed me, and you have earned my admiration. So I offer you a chance at life eternal: become my mate, and ascend to a higher state of being.

You shall never want nor need for anything. I will be your willing servant for all of eternity."

It wasn't the first proposal (Reader) had received, yet it was certainly the first from a beast. They stepped back a fraction as though his words caused them to stumble. His request sounded so genuine that it almost killed their blood lust.

Almost.

Disappointment and betrayal filled the dragon's eyes as (Reader) suddenly threw their sword like a spear, lodging it into Targov's chest, a feather's distance shy of his heart. But even that only further fueled the growing need he had for the mortal. And the obvious solution to the warrior's resistance was to make the choice easier for them.

Targov flew forward, but instead of attacking like (Reader) had predicted, he grappled the human in his talons and continued faster, propelling them both out of the cave and into the sky as he built speed.

The wind jostled the surprised human about like a rag doll as they rose higher into the atmosphere. Their ears popped painfully, but they could still hear the roaring laughter of the dragon.

"HA! Now what do you say, human?! Shall you be mine? Or shall I drop you?!" He held the adventurer loosely by the fabric visible under their armor in an attempt to frighten them. But what he saw next made his heart falter.

His eyes widened as (Reader) smiled triumphantly, raising a dagger while maintaining eye contact, and sliced off the part of their outfit Targov held onto, willingly allowing themselves to fall.

It was just a fall.

Yeah, it would hurt. It would hurt like a son of a bitch, but (Reader) knew they wouldn't die. They never did.

However, their near immortality was something that Targov didn't know about.

Before his emotions could fully form into separate feelings, Targov dove, recatching the little human, now with a more secure grip, and flew back to his home, his heart beating a billion beats per second once it restarted.

(Reader) was thrown to the floor by the dragon seconds before being blinded by a bright flash. The dragon was consumed in a bright white glow that illuminated the cave, morphing into a more human appearance, with deep golden skin and red hair. His horns and claws still remained, but as (Reader) could see clearly from his lack of clothes, was now mostly human. He charged towards (Reader), face twisted in his confusing mix of emotions. Anger, shock, hurt, feelings his adrenaline wouldn't give him time to categorize as he closed in on the confused human.

He hoisted (Reader) up by their neck.

"You'd really rather die than be mine?!" The enraged dragon screamed.

Struggling to breathe, the warrior grabbed one of his scaly hands while trying to smack his face with their dominant hand.

The glint of their ring caught Targov's attention, who recognized it instantly. He had been alive for a very long time, and killed many a god during his rebellious years. Sharp teeth sunk into (Reader's) fingers, the dragon biting their hand lightly, suddenly, earning a shocked cry from the struggling human. Targov dropped (Reader), pulling the ring off their finger with his fangs as he did so.

The warrior didn't notice their missing ring until they regained their composure and attempted to attack the humanoid dragon, who blocked their attack perfectly fine.

Targov wore the ring on his smallest claw.

"I see I was right about you.." His deep voice chuckled, but (Reader) couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or fury. "A fellow God killer.. who better suited to be my mate?"

He grabbed (Reader's) wrist, and despite it's low speed, the ring prevented (Reader) from dodging.

"Welcome home, my mate."

"Even if I have to break you, I will have you. And you will learn to love me."

[dootdootwriting]

hii can you do where like the genshin impact boys lovers are like taller than them?

featuring: albedo, alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, cyno, diluc, gorou, itto, kazuha, kaeya, kaveh, tighnari, venti, xiao, zhongli, (separate) tw: light foul language (scattered throughout), mention of violence/fighting (childe), mention of chronic pain/illness (baizhu), haitham is autistic because yeah. type: fluff, sfw, hcs reader: tall, gn, no pronouns, no use of y/n a/n: i was GOING to do literally all of them but i gave up after tighnari sorry i just did NOT have it in me. if you want hcs of this same scenario with different characters, do feel free to request that!

also not using canon heights for this bc they don't . make sense to me so you get mY HEADCANONS. (close to canon at least i promise)

ALBEDO

not hard to be taller than him tbh, he's like 5'4

i can't see him particularly caring about height in an s/o, rather just personality. if he likes you, he likes you and that's really it, you could look like just about anything

you could be three feet tall and he wouldn't care as long as you were understanding about the unholy hours of the night he has to stay up to in order to do his work

he won't deny the fact that dating someone tall has its advantages, though.

for one example, he finds it particularly difficult when an ingredient he's trying to get to is too far up for him to reach

and yes, he could just summon his geo flower and have it elevator his ass up the tree or whatever, but it's so much more convenient AND so much more comfortable to just have you pick him up so he can get higher

also, it's insanely hot

probably would be into it

DILUC

he's probably just a bit taller than average, i'd place him at about 6' or so

so it's not rare that he meets someone taller than him, it just doesn't happen every day

has no qualms about your height other than he finds it slightly annoying to look up at you when you're having a conversation

it's hard to be intimidating when the person you're talking to is looking down at you with an adoring smile, as you can understand.

other than that, if need be, he has the winery mansion adjusted to suit you

just some basic things like carving a bit out of a doorframe if you're prone to bumping your head on things. nothing too drastic

KAEYA

thinks it's hot

he's kind of a slut for people taller than him, i think. or just a slut in general maybe. either way, thinks it's hot

he's probably just a bit shorter than diluc, maybe at 5'11. diluc won't let him hear the end of it and it pisses him off

looks are the first thing he sees in a person. it isn't nearly the end-all be-all of choosing a partner for him (he really looks for someone with more mental acuity and wit), but it does play the part

being tall helps you with this

is the type to DEFINITELY be able to reach the top shelf and pretend he can't anyway so he can grin at you while you get things for him

asshole

VENTI

did someone say short-ass twink?

he's like 5'3 sorry i don't make the rules. short.

so yeah, again, not hard to be taller than him.

he's so playful about it too

"oh nooooo~ they put the apples all the way on the top shelf so i can't reach them~ whatever shall i do!"

bitch, you can fly. be fr

it doesn't matter. if there's something you can do (even if he can also do it) for him because of his height, he'll bat his eyelashes and flash you a grin so you can't help but show off and do it for him

also makes sharing the bed a hell of a lot more difficult. venti already flails around all over the place, and having someone taller sleeping next to him...? forget about it. you're both waking up on the floor.

BAIZHU

tall

probably like 6'1, and lanky too

there is no cabinet he can't reach, and besides he has changsheng to slither up in the rare situation that he actually can't reach something

however, the tables are turned on him completely when he's having a flare-up. a lot of the time, if he tries to exert himself reaching for something (or just getting out of bed at all), he'll dissolve into a fit of coughing and have to sit down

this is when having a tall partner really comes in handy, and you're more than happy to get him whatever he needs to help him calm it down

extremely grateful for your help, and lucky that he has you. anytime you get him something, especially when he's not feeling well, he'll thank you and give you a kiss

XIAO

joining the "it's not hard to be taller than him" club at a whopping (not really) FIVE FOOT TWO

bro is SHORT short

this doesn't bother him as much as you think it might. in xiao's own words, "height has little effect on one's ability to fight," and therefore he can protect you and fight for you even despite how small he is

will pretend not to be thankful if you help him with reaching things, but instead sends you a short glance that only you can decipher as being grateful

going out with him is a little bit like walking with a small but on edge dog

ZHONGLI

taller than REX LAPIS?? REX FUCKING LAPIS??? THE LORD OF GEO???

i think in his human form he's about 6'3, but he gets to like 6'8 with his draconic features out. no, i'm not counting his horns, i think he actually grows when he relaxes and stops hiding his features

is impressed that you're taller than him, and, honestly, a little worried about your back

with this tall of a couple, he definitely has to adjust his living situation. for sure has his ceilings raised and doorways sanded so the both of you can fit

walking around liyue harbor with him is a SIGHT. two giant sized folks casually going out for a stroll along the waterfront, enjoying their date as if they aren't big enough for a seagull to accidentally fly into their faces

also likes having you do things for him. he's tall, he can do them himself, but he's lying if he says he doesn't like watching you reach to screw in a lightbulb or the like.

AYATO

he's probably around 5'11, so he's tall but it's not unusual for someone to be taller than him per se

he's kind of a cheeky lil bastard? he puts everything on ridiculously high shelves on purpose so that he can watch you get them for him

"oh, sorry to trouble you my dear, but it seems the brown sugar is just a few inches out of my reach. could i trouble you to grab it for me?"

"there are like eighteen other different shelves you could have put it on."

"are there? i hadn't noticed! oh, well :)"

also likes to show you off. pulls up to the function (important dignitary meeting) with his tall ass partner

GOROU

little guy! he's probably around 5'4-5'5 so if you're even like average height you're probably a little taller than him

embarrassed about it, almost as much as he is about the whole tail cuddling thing

that isn't to say he doesn't love how gorgeous and tall you are (he does for sure!), he just is a little self-conscious about his own height

he WILL hide behind you if he sees yae miko approach. benefit #1 of having a tall partner: meat shield

also bonus for you: he is a dog, so when he wants you to grab something for him, he'll look up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes you've ever seen

ITTO

good lord you must be insanely tall . i think he's probably around 6'3

the first time he meets you he's blown away. bewildered. incredibly flustered. possibly already in love.

he's used to being the tallest guy around, used to being the big guy in charge. so when he finds you, and has to look up at someone else for a change, he's stupefied (in a good way)

there are no shelves he can ask you to get things from that he can't already reach. instead, he likes to watch you just pick people up

he'll gather some arataki gang members and ask them to stand in a line and have you go back to back with each one just to measure how tall you are compared to other people

he WILL give bear hugs. if you're more lanky, they may break a few bones... so, beware of that

KAZUHA

another almost short-stack, probably around 5'6

he hasn't ever really thought about his height, he isn't insecure about it or anything.

to him, your height is just another thing that he loves about you! he doesn't care much for physical appearance, it's what's inside that counts to him

and once he gets to know you, he finds everything about you stunning!

probably writes poems about how you look standing strong in the wind or something. really he'll write poems about you no matter what.

since you're taller than him, he enjoys being the little spoon. let him recite lines to you while you hold him!

ALHAITHAM

tall ass guy. prolly around 6'1

is surprised that you're taller than him, but other than that doesn't really care all that much

while he does care for physical traits such as height, he mostly values intelligence and wit, so as long as you can keep up with him in a conversation, you're good enough to date

he has parameters, you understand. you have to fit to a certain standard in a series of specific categories, including age, wit, compatibility....

he might be a little autistic.

my point is, height doesn't really factor in there

still enjoys being the big spoon, even if there's more of you or if you don't quite slot together ideally in that position

it doesn't matter if you're 8 feet tall, this guy Will hold you

CYNO

putting him in around 5'5

despite his small stature, he's a force to be reckoned with. everyone around him knows it, even if he sometimes wishes they didn't care as much

has absolutely no trouble asking you to get things for him if he can't reach them. unbothered king.

this comes less from a place of him not caring about being short and more of a place of him knowing his limitations and understanding when he needs help!

doesn't really care about being shorter than you. well... unless you tease him about being short, then he gets a little miffed. he doesn't mind being the shorter one as long as he isn't just called short

doesn't mind being the little spoon if you suggest it

KAVEH

i wanna say he's about average height, 5'8-5'9 ish!

he's comfortable with his height. he doesn't really think about it very often

that being said, i do think he would be very into someone who's taller than him. i just get those vibes

PLEASE please lean in a doorway and look at him or something. he thinks it's so attractive

probably will ask you to reach up and get things for him just so he can like... poke you in the side??? for no reason?? while you do it

likes to show you off but is also shy about it. will hold your hand when you walk around in public but also really doesn't want anyone to notice. there are two wolves inside of him.

TIGHNARI

I AM A 5'6 TIGHNARI TRUTHER. idk. he gives 5'6 vibes and i don't know why!!!

honestly couldn't give two shits about his height. As long as he can get to the samples he's trying to study, he doesn't care!

Thinks every part of you is stunning, so to him your height is a part of that!

Looks come second to personality to him. This isn't to say he doesn't find you attractive, just that the second he actually starts to like someone all of a sudden oh, they're really pretty actually.

lowkey wants to do like, a family gene chart of you? He wants to learn everything about you, down to where all your different traits come from!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what did you think about wiege miss raven …

It was cute 🥰

BRO 💀 LUKA IS SO HOPELESSLY IN LOVE AND DOWN BAD FOR HYUNA… He’s smiling like a kid in a candy store and blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush when a GUN is pointed at his head??? Wanting to run to her and embrace her anyway, with zero regard for his own situation or how she might react negatively to him??? Kissing her missing poster (even though kissing isn’t really a thing in their society?) He’s literally SO mentally ill and obsessed with her… This is toxic and codependent het, I KNOW IT IS 👁️👄👁️

The song this time was admittedly not my favorite, honestly (its tone is sort of haunting)—but I love what it represents… A pure lullaby, holding all the hope for a peaceful and happy future. It’s probably one of the few songs Luka ever sang without intent to manipulate or harm his duet partner.

I loved seeing more gaps in the story being filled in!! Mizi after being rescued and Hyuna trying to calm her down, Hyunwoo’s presence in general, Hyuna competing in Alien Stage, Luka and the other children in Anakt Garden… Ooogh, and those flashes to an alternate universe where everyone is alive, well, and involved in their passions… Luka and Hyuna with their matching rings (not sure if they’re promise bands, engagement rings, or wedding rings)?? It was nice but I feel like I might not be as invested in their relationship if that AU lacks the ✨ spice ✨ of being enemies.

LITTLE LUKA WAS SO PRECIOUS BUT ALSO SUCH A LONER LOSER OTL Laying his head against her… Him sitting under that tree alone and huddled up, counting his fingers to pass the time… Hyuna casually joining him… The pure joy that brings him… Hyuna going in for what seems to be a hug, only for the scene to cut to her body slumping on his AFTER BEING SHOT WHILE PROTECTING HIM 💀 That was absolutely FOUL…

TILL, MY BELOVED SON… He didn’t show up a lot this song, but I loved seeing him having so much freedom and creativity. Spray painting, drawing, just acting like a Normal Human Being and not constantly lashing out and being violently subdued 💦 I always feel like I’ve been punched in the gut myself when he’s harmed. Poor guy… He deserves all the happiness in the world.

dhjsvajFagfDah DONmT yhINK i FORgoT MIZI eiThER. Girliepop is fr going through it??? Still having trauma visions of Sua… LOSING HYUNA NOW… and now she’s left with that fucker whose ass she beat in a fit of rage 😭 which does NOT bode well. THE MURDER IN MIzi’S EYES AT THE ENd, HOLY ShIT. I am half expecting the next installment to just be her wailing on Luka, maybe blaming him for what happened to Hyuna and still holding a grudge for using Sua’s death in such a despicable way.

Hyuna’s final words to Luka were so 👌 It wasn’t too long, it wasn’t too short… It was the perfect length and it conveyed everything she needed to tell him. How important he truly is to her, how she hates him because she loves him; he is and always was her one and only weakness, how all she wishes in her final moments is for Luka to live life to its fullest—even the ugly bits. That he should forgive himself and love himself no matter what…

“Luka, live with love. Embrace the pain, the frailty, and the moments so unbearably shameful. Forgive yourself… Again and again, endlessly. Because everything… begins from there.”

P.S. I feel like I definitely got lost on some parts of the story 😅 I wasn’t sure how to interpret that scene where Luka was covered in blood and there were a bunch of his dead clones (?) in tanks?? Is the implication supposed to be that the aliens were trying to make the perfect performer and the Luka we know now is the ideal test tube baby…? I see his hand on what appears to be a control panel of some kind?? So did he accidentally kill the clones?? And I’m not sure why the random gunman tried to shoot Luka. Isn’t Hyuna the leader of the resistance? Why didn’t she command them to stop? Why did she throw herself in harm’s way instead? Was it a spur of the moment or adrenaline fueled move? Did the gunman really dislike Luka or what he represents + want to kill him so badly they disregarded orders to let him go?

P.P.S. Sorry to Ivan fans… I do not have much to remark on other than the opinion I have always held, which is “Man has killer eyelashes.”

P.P.P.S. I actually didn’t cry! 👍 vxjsneksksk I live for angst like this, so I was eating it all up like a bag of chips.

Really looking forward to seeing where things will go from here on out! The resistance is lacking a leader now; will Mizi step up?! What’s going to happen to Luka, is he going to be taken as a hostage and slowly come around to join the resistance? How are the aliens going to retaliate? Will the competitor even continue at this rate? So many interesting questions!

[nejiverse]

STRIKERMAN

Sae, Shidou, Nagi, Reo

In which i write scenarios of you and the boys both being spiderman. Fem! Spiderman! Reader

cw: mention of feet in sae's, shidou being as foul as ever (what's new), suggestive, reo and shidou trynna rizz y/n up fr, maybe ooc reo, implied reader is shorter than shidou ….is it bad that the only spiderman i’ve seen is the two spiderverse movies?💀

1.6k words

You were sitting on Sae's couch, your legs flung over said man's shoulders who was sitting on the floor in front of you with his back against the couch. You were both clad in your suits but with no masks on.

"How'd you think your fans would react if I took a picture of you right now painting another woman's nails", you poked at his head, running a hand through his hair.

He dipped the brush into the white nail polish once again and added a second coat onto your toe.

"You've got fans too. I'm sure i'd make good money out of selling your feet pics", he retorted.

You smacked his head repeatedly, cringing at the sheer thought of him doing that. Despite the fact that it hasn't even happened yet (nor will it ever happen on your watch) you could still feel the embarrassment. "I'd be mortified! Please don't ever do that", you pleaded.

"Alright, alright. You're about to concuss me", he took a hold of your wrist and quickly laid a small kiss on your gloved wrist.

"I would never do that...probably".

"Hey!".

You stretched the neck of his suit out, catching a glimpse of the hickeys littered on the back of his neck from your earlier makeout session before snapping it back against his skin.

He hissed in pain and rubbed the back of his neck, turning around and giving you a scowl. A fake one. He wasn't really upset about it.

Once you noticed he was done painting your nails, you brought your legs down from over his shoulders and leaned his head backwards so that his head was in between your thighs as you cradled his cheeks in your palms.

"On second thought, I should've taken the picture...I want all of your fans to know you're mine", you grinned, soaking in his blue eyes that were curtained with long lustrous eyelashes.

"I wouldn't give any other woman the time of day anyway, you know that", he said. "Besides we can't reveal our identities...idiot", he flicked your forehead.

"Oh right!", you laughed sheepishly.

A harsh slap to your ass and you already knew who the culprit was.

You turn around with a scowl on your face as you rubbed a soothing hand against your ass. That would definitely leave a mark.

"I come here to think and now I've lost my train of thought because of you!".

"You look so hot today, I couldn't help myself", he shrugged his shoulders.

You folded your arms against your chest.

"We're wearing the same damn thing, slap your own ass", you retorted. You shook your head and sat down against the ledge. "Im seriously gonna take up Rin's offer of getting you a damn cage", you spat.

Shidou had a frown on his face now from hearing…..his name.

He looked down at you. "You talk to that loser?".

You didn't respond. Shidou poked at your side with his foot. You merely kept ignoring him.

Shidou chuckled under his breath, taking a seat next to you.

"Y'know you're really hot when you're mad at me".

Nothing. Not even a reaction.

He narrowed his eyes and reached out to your face, taking your mask off. It was only fair he catch a glimpse of your face since he took his off ages ago.

An amused grin grew on Shidou's face when he feasted his eyes on your flustered face.

He chuckled lowly. "Did I really get you this worked up? Little ol' me?", he teased.

You reach over to get your mask back from him. "Give it back!", he did exactly the opposite.

He got up and held the mask over his head, using his height and build as an advantage. You got up after him, trying to get it back as you went on your tiptoes and held you arm up a high as you can.

Shidou glanced at your unimpressed glare on your face and your chest against his, feeling a sense of superiority wash over him.

He leaned down and kissed you lips, his hand coming to the back of your head and pushing your body flush against his once again.

He bit on your lip softly, causing your grip on his chest to tighten. He pulled away a bit, but his lips were still very close to yours.

"You're strange", you said against his lips.

He pecked your lips once more before placing you mask over your head. "Don't act like you didn't enjoy that", he snickered.

You shot some webs from your wrist, one going around his wrists and his legs, causing him to fall back onto the ground.

"Wow Y/n I never knew you were into this kinda thing~", he taunted at which you gritted your teeth at his annoying personality.

"Shut up! And stop using my real name", you muttered, walking closer to the ledge preparing to ditch Shidou and jump off until he told you to wait.

"What now?".

"Day 16 of asking you to sit on my face?".

"Absolutely not".

You hated when interviewers and reporters crowded you whenever you finish defeating a tough enemy.

Couldn't they understand that it was exhausting and you needed space to at least breathe??

You swung between a few structures before landing in a quiet alleyway and slid your suit off your shoulders and out of your arms, taking the bandage wrap you stole from one of the ambulances on sight and used it to wrap the wound on your arm.

"You hurt yourself every time", a voice chimed in.

You looked up and were startled by Nagi's face who was very much in your personal space. He was hanging upside down from a building and you backed away a bit.

"And you show up after the fight every time", you rolled your eyes playfully.

"I was asleep and getting up was a hassle", he yawned.

"You said that the last time too", you finished wrapping your arm and put on your suit fully again.

You walked closer to him again and pinched his cheeks, stretching and pulling them.

"Your Spiderman now, not just Nagi Seishiro", you giggled.

"Mmm. Spiderman needs a kiss", he looked down at your lips which were upturned into a smile.

You tilted your head. "Does Spiderman need a kiss? Or is it actually Sei that wants one?".

"Both".

You chuckled and leaned closer to his lips. Nagi beat you to the punch and seized your lips before you could do just that. His kiss was needy, he did everything in his power to deepen it, pushing his head closer to yours if that was even possible, cradling your head in his free hand. You were starting to think he was a better kisser when he was upside down.

You parted your lips from his, Nagi chasing you lips for more as he came down and held your waist.

"One more for Sei", he muttered. "That one was for Spiderman".

"That stupid Reo", you muttered from the top of a building as you looked down upon the purple haired man helping the civilians out from the rubble.

"Stupid stupid Reo", you continued. "Always stealing my spotlight".

Suddenly you heard a voice from behind you.

"Who's stupid?".

Your shoulders jerked up and you turned your head sharply, being startled by that voice you were very much familiar with.

You scowled. "How the hell did you get up here so fast??"

Reo puffed out his chest proudly. "Magic".

You rolled your eyes— even though he couldn't see it— and hopped onto various buildings. You were ready to go home and go to sleep.

"There can't be two spidermans around here", you spoke loudly because you knew he wasn't far behind you. Reo had a habit of following you around like a lost puppy.

"There isn't two spidermans silly", he chuckled. "I'm spiderman and you're spiderwoman".

"No no. I'm also spiderman. I always knew you weren't— ".

You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face Reo who wasn't able to stop in time, resulting in him clashing into you and the both of you falling back off the building.

You both yelped, thinking of ways to stop yourselves from plummeting to your deaths.

Unfortunately, both you and Reo's first thought was to shoot two webs at the buildings to your left and to your right.

The reason why it was unfortunate was because your webs got tangled up and you two ended up slamming into each other, bodies right up against each other and webs tangled around you two.

If any civilians were to decide to look up at the sky, they would certainly think they were gone crazy.

"...A feminist", you finished your previous sentence and gave Reo and unimpressed look. "Is this your way of flirting?", you deadpanned.

"Is it working?".

"No".

"Then I guess it's not", Reo sighed.

masterlist :)

a/n: spider man nagi is definitely my favourite, lmk yall’s favourite 😌 also let’s take a minute to appreciate this fanart (sshiroixx on twitter)

[biibini]

Could you possibly write hcs for Mizu properly introducing reader to her adoptive father for the first time??? I'm curious as to how that would play out :3

modern!mizu x reader meets eiji for the first time

tags: modern mizu, mizu & reader in relationship, meeting the parents trope, meeting the parent?, eiji is mizu’s adopted father, kohama is staged around the pacific northwest, heidi shindo &blood-soaked chiaki mentioned, TW: m*k*o, author needs to eat before she writes

a/n: ok for some reason i cant edit my drafts on my phone bc of gifs :( ima get thru these asks fr,, hope yall like the show references teehee

when u and modern!mizu first got together, u guys figured u would take it slow

it was mizu’s first relationship out of a toxic one

and u didn’t mind the slow pace

going on dates, hanging out, relaxing together

it was a blast

until one day u guys were out downtown, having a lil cafe date

and one of eiji’s clients recognized mizu as u hopped on the back of her motorcycle, zooming off to get lunch

modern!mizu ends up getting an unexpected phone call from her adopted dad

they keep in touch every few days

but she had just called him yesterday

Mizu was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone. Her homework lies on her desk, ready to be done.

She groans in frustration and gently throws the phone down.

Ok, enough scrolling. Let’s get shit done-

Her phone starts to vibrate. Mizu flips the phone to spot the contact name “Swordfather”. The contact name is paired with a 0.5 selfie of him winning against Mizu. It continued to vibrate on Mizu's bed.

That’s odd. I just called him yesterday.

“Hey dad, whats up?”, Mizu answer.

“Who’s in the back of your bike?”, he yells into the phone.

“How- who- what are you talking-“

“Mr. Shindo come to me earlier today.” He starts, stern and loud, “He say he saw you with girl behind you on bike.”

Mr. Shindo was a regular at Eiji’s Repair Shop ever since Mizu was young. A man with temper and sass, he only trusted Eiji with his services. But with sass came a lot of gossip. Mizu wouldn’t believe the amount of drama happening the neighborhood if it wasn’t for Mr.Shindo’s loud mouth.

“Ok dad, I know it’s a girl but-“

“And he say he saw you hold hands! And drive off?!”, Eiji yelled with concern.

Mizu never really heard him this loud. There was the occasional disagreement and arguments about the Sunday game or who’s cooking for dinner. It was just banter at the most.

When Mizu told him about Mikio and why she left him & all his problems, he stayed calm and silent. Not many words were said when she admitted everything he did during the relationship. But it was comforting to know that her adopted dad was there, quietly listening to her sobs at the dining table.

“I know it’s not a guy but-“

“Guy, girl I do no care. Who is she?”

Mizu was stunned. Yeah, her dad’s English wasn’t the best but his words hit deep. The only time he pulled out the “I don’t care” in her lifetime was a foul customer.

A man by the name of Chiaki was on his knees close to closing hours, begging on his knees for Eiji to fix his motorcycle in hopes to make it faster. After constant days of his begging and pleading during open & closing, Eiji took it into his shop. After countless days of watching her dad attempt to fix the customer’s bike, Chiaki started criticizing and called him an “decrepit old man unable to fix shit”. Mizu wanted to rock his shit but her dad stopped her before she could.

“I may be old, but I do no care. Leave with your piece of shit you call a bike.”, Eiji said as Chiaki sped off, flipping the bird as he sent off.

"Mizu? You there?, Eiji asks. Mizu snaps back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"You tired of guys now, ha?"

Mizu scoffed, laughing at the unexpected response. She hears a hearty chuckle through the phone.

"Yeah yeah.", Mizu sighs in relief, "She's my girlfriend. Her name is Y/N.", Mizu answered, a blush blooming on her face.

"Ah good. Next time you come home, bring her. I'll make my barbeque special.", Eiji says lightheartedly.

Mizu's eyes lit up. It had been a while since she visited home. And to be greeted with the smell of her dad's honey BBQ baby back ribs and juicy prime rib? Yeah, she was sold.

"I will. I'll let you know when I'll visit."

"And Mizu?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"She take good care of you?", he asks in a concerned tone.

MIzu smiles, knowing the slow burn of confusion, hatred, and rage he witnessed over the many years. He was present during her silent middle school self, her angsty & stubborn teenage years, and her confused & rage-filled self during her previous relationship.

She looks at the wall where a photobooth strip of you two hung. It was during one of your exploring the city dates when you two found a vintage photo booth. A little dusty but it did the job of capturing you two together.

"Yes. Yes, she does, dad."

later that week, u get a text msg from mizu asking if u are free for the weekend

thinking it was another weekend date, u clear out ur schedule

and then she texts u its ab coming home w her for the weekend and see her dad

this was kinda out of nowhere

it rlly threw u off

it has been a few months now...

so yk what

maybe it is time u say hi

that friday u get on her motorcycle and ride to her hometown

its only an hr out but seeing the change from a college town to a smaller town felt like another world

You feel the motorcycle slow down as you head towards the exit. The wind calms down as you pass by the welcome sign to Kohama. As you go down the exit, you look out. Down below is a winding path to the seaside town. The town hangs next to a cliff. From your point of view, you could spot the deep blue ocean shimmers as Mizu takes you down the road.

She goes at a slower pace, taking in the familiar sights she left behind: the tall pine trees, a long coastline as far as the eye can see, and boulders scattering the beaches every once in a while. She rolls up to a stop sign and lifts her visor up.

"Smells like home."

You mimic her motions, lifting yours as well. The faint scent of sea salt mixed with the cool breeze from the ocean.

With both of you refreshed, Mizu continued along the path towards the middle of town.

u guys roll into her neighborhood

the houses share a similar bungalow-style

only changing in shades of color

however, something caught ur eye

well

more like ur nose

the smell of sweet barbeque caught ur attention

mizu immediately knew it was her dad cooking it up

meeting modern!mizu’s dad aka swordfather was a lil awkward

when u first arrived, he was busy in the back barbecuing and taking care of the dinner tonight

so u didnt meet him until u fully entered the house

hes busy in the back barbequing

and he does see u but the only thing he knows ab u is that ur dating his daughter

“Dad?”, Mizu calls through the house. You follow her footsteps down the hallway. She then opens the backdoor at the end, the midday shining into the hallway.

The sun blinds you for a second. You see a growing backyard with bushes aligning the fence. Tucked in the corner lied a storage shed surrounded by bikes and a few spare tires. Next to the shed is a grill in use, smoke coming out of the vent.

“I’m here Mizu.” An elderly voice called, his back facing you.

He turns around, a faint pout on his face. His eyes squinting from the harsh midday sun.

“You bring girlfriend?”

Mizu grins at her dad’s comment. She looks back at you and softly grabs your hand, pulling you next to her.

“This is Y/N.”

You smiled, waving at Mizu’s father. You know he’s not a bad guy, just a badass through Mizu’s stories of back home. However, you’re still anxious underneath your pleasing demeanor.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

You look up to meet his gaze. Old, tired eyes stare back. Stern but not mean or cruel. Amiable. You could only wonder how much wisdom he has behind those eyes.

“Nice to meet you. I am Eiji.”

He waves back, awkwardly smiling as he tends to the grill. The interaction had a striking similarity to when you first met Mizu: cordial, dry, and a little awkward.

Like father, like daughter, you suppose.

after introducing urself, mizu lets eiji cook

(LET HIM COOK ‼️‼️)

when ur making sides together in the kitchen, he gets a glimpse of how u guys act together

and he watches u help mizu make the sides like mac & cheese, baked potatoes, biscuits, and stir fried green beans

typically, he would be helping her cook

but seeing u help her mix the macaroni

and mizu helping u cut the green beans

hes a proud man and feels safe knowing mizu is ok

when mizu pops into the bathroom, he checks in on the cooking

You put on the red and blue mitts and carefully place the mac and cheese into the oven. You feel the fiery heat of the oven against your forearms.

“How is cooking going?”

You close the oven and look behind to find Eiji. You nod in response.

“It’s going good! We’re almost done.”, you say as you move to the side. He gets a view of your work with Mizu: a plate of stir fried garlic string beans with crispy fried onions, a stack of baked potatoes along with bowls of toppings portioned by Mizu, Red Lobster cheddar bay biscuits, and the max and cheese that’s currently baking.

“Thank you for inviting me over and letting me stay.”, you say politely as you put the mittens away.

He nods back, a small smile forming around his lips.

The conversation falls short. A silence fills the air.

For a little too long.

It’s almost uncomfortable to breath, let alone talk, in the kitchen.

“Ribs are almost done. Please help set tables with me.”

You follow his request and help him with the plates and utensils.

“You know,”, You look up from the dinner table, giving Eiji your attention. “I did not know Mizu would bring girlfriend back.”

He chuckled as he looked back at you. You hear the emphasis on “girl” and laughed along. After hearing about Mizu’s previous relationship during the beginning of your relationship, you started to understand her ways.

And now, you understood why Eiji was awkward earlier in the day. When Mizu first met you, it was anxiousness meeting you. For Eiji, it was out of concern from Mizu’s past.

“Yeah, I’m probably not what you expected.”, you tease.

A hearty laugh comes out of Eiji. You feel the heaviness in the room lifts.

“But I’ll be here for her. I plan to, don’t worry.”, you reassure him. As serious as you sound, it was all true.

He hums in agreement. He puts down the final fork and walks over to the stir-fried green beans. His fingers reach for a string bean and tastes your cooking.

“Mm. You are honest.”, he pauses as he takes another bite. “You also make mean green beans.”

You snort, the compliment catching you off guard.

“Mean green beans?”, you question. You take a bean from the plate.

He nods.

Mean green beans…

while u and eiji are having a moment,

modern!mizu is listening to all of this go down

she tries not to smile when she comes back into the kitchen

but on the inside, she’s relieving hes getting along with u

once u and mizu help set the food on the table, its feasting time

ik for a fact that those baby back ribs are dangerously juicy

practically ripping off the bone

and with that honey bbq sauce???

and not to mention the prime rib??????

perfectly cooked

super tender

u can literally taste thyme, rosemary, and garlic with every juicy bite

(i shouldnt be writing this while im hungry)

u all enjoy a delicious dinner

afterwards, modern!mizu would give u a detailed tour of her childhood home

her fencing trophies lined up in the living room

and hallway

and bedroom

eiji didnt always say it but he was proud

if u couldnt tell already

when u guys went out to the backyard, u spot eiji working on a motorcycle in the shed

its not the biggest shed

but a closer look inside painted a pic of who he was

him on a motorcycle w his friends when he was much younger

a framed pic of a lil mizu on her scooter with him on a motorcycle, both vehicles with matching colors

the grand opening of eiji’s car shop

young mizu at the beach nearby

another of teenage mizu holding her keys and next to a blue 2004 toyota camry

u laughed and pointed it out

eiji chuckling along w u and describing the picture as mizu’s first drive after getting her license at age 16

she looks so much younger but u giggle at the scowl

on the other hand, modern!mizu is kinda embarrassed from her high school self

as crazy and insane and stubborn as she was, it was a big moment for her and for eiji

her girl could finally drive

and she got her first taste of freedom

did she cringe as u stared and laughed at how different she looked? yeah

but at least eiji isnt reminicising alone

[str4ngr]

glances [ barbatos ]

cw: suggestive/flirty, fluff foul language, v informal, fem! reader bring back the obey me fandom fr

Barbatos loves, and i mean loves, to tease. to everyone else, he seems so put together, like a statue with a perfectly graceful smile, but every time he catches you in a quiet hallway at RAD, that fool-proof smile breaks with a phrase you never expected to hear from one who's supposed to be subservient.

he loves, adores, lives, for the way your eyes flutter away as you cough, trying recover from your flustered state. he loves the way you grin and laugh, the way your eyes meet his in a cheeky smirk as you bump your hip against him.

but barbatos' favorite thing, as much as he loves those other moments, is when you tease him back. when you brush his hair 'back into place' even though its never been out of place. when you pout and tilt your head up at him. when you press into his side, the feeling of your breasts against his arm sending a shiver down his spine. when you whisper words that'll keep you out of hell in the same hallway he did.'

even though he may be a devil, a demon, a cursed being, he will never be able to think any sin of the way you try [ and struggle ] to help him as he bakes. or when you bother him every evening [ he gave in ] to give him a message [ he's a fucking demon he doesn't need it lmao ]. he can't help but enjoy your company as you sip and sit in silence, tapping his shoulder shyly when you asked for help on your homework.

he loves the way you slowly learn to look past his smile, the eyes are the windows to the soul, right?

directory

[avifaunaa]

stars blind [ they fall and leave the sky ]

Authors Note: it was going to happen eventually. The only name READER goes by is Windweaver -- otherwise there is no use of a name or Y/N.

Masterlist

PART TWO |

Pairing: Feyre Archeron x Rhysand x Fem!Reader + Platonic!Inner Circle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Feyre and Rhysand have decided to go out after eight months of being reclusive with Nyx. In their absence, it would seem the Inner Circle had kept a well-kept secret at their favorite bar — a new friend and a third mate Feyre and Rhysand never knew they had. But you — who answers to the name Windweaver — have your own secrets behind your innocent smiles and sweet scent.

Content Warnings: Canon in nature but I take liberties and therefor it’s somewhat of an AU because of what I did, a medium to quick-ish burn, Court politics, protective + possessive inner circle [ platonic ], platonic fae family dynamics that I will eventually go into, TAMLIN MENTIONED, foul language, mentions of: death, torture, war -- not graphically described, this is but a set up for the story so Feysand do not meet R yet.

Word Count: TBA

Rhysand was suspicious.

Granted, he was always suspicious and usually had a right to be when considering what sort of ilk he had to tend to in the Court of Nightmares on a regular basis.

His mate thought he was overthinking it — you’re getting permanent worry lines, she had told him over the mindlink — and had tried to ignore his pattering around and restless fidgeting for days.

Nyx was a welcome distraction, of course, especially when Feyre showed him how easily the babe had begun winnowing in small distances before he was walking on two feet. Rhysand had walked about with his chest puffed out for no less than a week until Azriel beat the shit out of him in training.

In truth, his suspicions lie closer to his own Inner Circle. They were around frequently and Feyre held dinners at their home two times a week that usually ended up with a couple of them spending the night after too many drinks [ Cassian and Nesta, who did not drink much anymore, by default ].

They were less open-mouthed about their drinking exploits when they went out into the Court and dancing. Even Azriel was less chatty about it — and he was not a chatty man by nature.

Dinner was currently underway and Feyre had a babbling Nyx in her lap as she fed him, then herself, then him again. She hummed along to whatever he said to her, because none of it made any sense to one except himself.

Rhysand was nursing a glass of wine and staring at Mor and Amren, and when Amren caught him staring she curled a lip back to reveal her canines. “You better move those eyes before I take them and pin them to my front door.”

Cassian choked on his ham stew, loudly setting down his bowl and wiping his face with the fine napkins.

“Please don’t,” Feyre said, “I like his eyes more than everything else about him.”

“Everything, you say?” Cassian asked wickedly, a feral gleam in his eyes. “That must hurt, Rhysie.”

“Shut up,” Nesta intoned from her spot between him and Azriel as she broke a roll in half and dipped it in her soup, “I don’t want to hear about Rhysand’s cock at dinner.”

“Who said anything about his cock?”

A pause in her dipping, a small reddening of her cheeks, then Nesta continued on with a bored expression as she brought the accurately soaked roll to her lips and bit in, ignoring the bait her mate dangled in front of her.

Rhysand ignored both of them and sipped his wine until Amren returned her gaze back to her High Lord, now irritated in the way he wanted her to be.

“Boy, spit out whatever has ahold of your tongue and your balls before I reach over and take all three for myself,” she warned, setting aside her emptied glass until a bottle floated over lazily to refill it.

Azriel sighed loudly from Nesta’s other end.

“Please don’t,” Feyre repeated as she fed Nyx a spoonful of soup while he reached for the utensil himself. “And also stop threatening one another in front of Nyx. I don’t need him running around next Solstice babbling about Rhysand’s balls.”

Mor was the one to choke on her wine this time, removing the glass and covering her face before anything could spill.

Azriel sighed again while Elaine made it a point to noisily move dishes nearest to her around on the table.

“You’ll forgive me, Feyre, if I’m somewhat irked by your mate’s endless staring,” Amren bit out as she pushed her barely touched food away. Even now she still struggled with eating, even if she had admitted it was fantastic food. Amren was a creature of habit and it was hard when she returned mortal.

“I am concerned my Circle is being tight-lipped about something and I am trying to investigate it,” Rhysand announced to the table before Feyre could stop him.

“So the dramatics were . . .” Nesta waved her fork in his direction, ringed hand glittering in the overhead lighting, “ . . . Just you being you?”

“He’s not normally this awful. He usually just asks us when something is off to him,” Cassian told her, popping an entire roll into his mouth without breaking it apart first.

“I have asked,” Rhysand retorted shortly, tapping his fingertips on the tabletop. “Numerous times. All of you. I have asked if anything of note has been occurring in Court while Feyre and I take our reprieve with Nyx. I’ve gotten no reports other than the usual.”

“That’s because there isn’t anything to report,” Azriel told him slowly, his shadows looking as confused as the Spymaster did. Cassian grunted his agreement around his bread product.

“See?” Feyre gave him one of her reassuring smiles, dimples showing and eyes softening to hide the concern that lay within. “You’re being a hen. Nothing is wrong with our people or our Court. If you’re restless and want to return to your duties entirely, you can just say so.”

Rhysand’s scarred hand dug into the top of the table. His mate couldn’t sense it — and maybe he was being paranoid and he had grown restless in the nesting period he had taken up with Feyre and Nyx.

But his Illyrian hindbrain was nagging at him, warning him that something simply wasn’t entirely in the right place.

“Your father’s ilk haven’t caused ruckus?” he asked Mor carefully as he made an effort to pick at his food.

Mor slowly moved her gaze to Rhysand’s own and he saw an icy fire somewhere in the depths of his cousin’s eyes. “No. The last time they did, I gave him a reminder.”

“They’ve been rather well behaved since then,” Nesta commented lazily, watching her own mate swallow down his third roll and reach to the basket for a fourth.

“Cassian save some for the rest of us,” she scolded, lunging forward to snatch the basket away. “Elaine only made two batches and you’ve nearly had an entire full one by yourself.”

“It’s okay,” her sister said, cheeks pink. “There’s more than enough, I’m sure.”

Cassian held a hand out but Nesta refused to give in, eyes narrowing to slits. “You’re going to regret that much bread tomorrow when we have to be up for training.”

Azriel took the basket and plucked his own roll before passing it down the table out of the Warrior’s reach.

“I hate all of you,” Cassian said as he stared at his soup.

“Duly noted,” the High Lord drawled as he once again cast glances at each of his friends. He decided to do this approach differently, casually asking, “How’s Rita been?”

“Good,” Mor answered immediately. “She’s been busier than normal.”

“Her bar’s picked up even more, has it?”

“That’s wonderful,” Feyre said with a smile as Nyx smashed a tiny chunk of roll on the side of his mouth instead of inside. “I can’t wait to go again. It’s been so long. Soon.”

“Hmm,” Amren simply said, not agreement nor refusal. A very Amren sound but not matching with the too-blank expression she had where normally she held less defenses around the Cricle lately.

Azriel’s attention was suddenly on Elaine, asking about her recipe so that there was truly no way he could be taken from her conversation without being considered rude. Rhysand wanted to strangle him with his own shadows.

You’re being overbearing and I think perhaps it’s time you and I start going back into Court again, Feyre murmured down the bond. He hadn’t even realized she had entered his mind — her being there was like his own thoughts. I’m worried you’re looking for things to be suspicious about so you can have something to do.

Have you seen the paperwork loaded in the office, darling? he returned while he continued inspecting their friends. I have work for months. But this . . . This is different.

Feyre brushed against him internally in an attempt at soothing him -- and perhaps he was a tad more worked up over this perceived secret than he should be. But he did not like it -- not from his Inner Circle, not from his family.

Mor swirled her wine and chewed on her lip. She had one perfectly manicured hand wrapped around her elbow in an effort to make herself seem relaxed and at ease amongst her peers but Rhysand could taste the nervous energy from his cousin.

She was always made up of nervous energy when the time was around for her father and his agreed population to come into the Court -- she could not relax for at least a week after they were gone.

This was different, though.

"There's a new girl at Rita's," More broke out as the wine glass was lifted to her face, unable to cut off her sentence before it spewed out.

Silence fell and Amren simply poured herself more wine. "Here we go."

"So?" Rhysand said, squinting at the blonde. "Rita's employees come and go frequently -- do they not? She offers an easy scheduling system."

Mor did not further elaborate or answer Rhysand's confused question. He sent a look to his mate, who tilted her head in her friend's direction.

"Is this the big secret Rhysand thinks you're keeping from us?" she asked easily, smile rising up to greet their Inner Circle. "If so, please confirm it and put him out of his misery. He doesn't like not being in the know of things."

"Busybody," Amren grumbled, wine now half empty as she closed her eyes as if to go away from this conversation.

"Yes," Azriel said simply. "But she's been around since Nyx's birth. Came out of nowhere."

"Nobody comes out of Nowhere, Az," Rhysand said impatiently, "So I assume she caught interest because she came not from Nowhere but from another Court?"

"Why would that make a stir? We've had many newcomers since we revealed ourselves," Feyre added.

"She's . . . She came from the Spring Court," Azriel confessed. Though his brothers' facial features were unreadable, the tone . . . it failed to hide the sliver of guilt. "I personally looked into her history. She's High Fae and I'm afraid to let you know that she is related to Tamlin through his mother's lineage."

Feyre's eyes shuttered briefly and Rhysand could only feel the shock that struck her. "He never mentioned any family besides . . ." she trailed off, leaving words unsaid but a history known.

Tamlin had only spoken of who he thought brought importance to him directly -- and a girl in which he likely hardly saw growing up? What would have been so important to waste his breath on her to Feyre for?

Even so, Rhysand knew little about Tamlin's mother or her lineage. It does not surprise him he has a cousin or two floating around in the world.

He reached across his bond, grasping the warmth and clutching it so tenderly. Are you okay?

She responded in kind and connected herself to him in order to grant access to her emotions and the ability to comfort her. I am okay, she confirmed, meeting his eyes with stars in the depths, but I want to know more.

He would give her anything she needed -- and if she wanted to know more about the female who shared Tamlin's blood, it would be hers.

"What do you know?" he asked, breaking the silence of his group. He pushed his empty dishes away and prepared to settle in for a long discussion.

Feyre shifted in her seat but only to hand over a squealing Nyx to Elain so that she may take him to play in the gardens before his bath.

"She used political sanctuary to ask for entry," Cassian told him, arms crossed over the table, expression turned serious. "She claims that during the War she was moved from place to place with her mother so that Tamlin couldn't use them to get her father to contribute troops from his house."

Feyre's jaw locked stiff and Rhysand could feel the tight straining in her core. "Where is her family now?" his High Lady questioned calmly.

"Unknown," Azriel answered, "I sought out their location with my Shadows but their House is in shambles -- in name and standing all. There is no sign of Sylinor or his wife and there are no troops bearing their House' crest to be located."

"Sylinor Windweaver?" Rhysand asked, the name drawing familiarity from a time when he was a boy and still shadowed his father, eyes flashing and his wings twitching behind him. "He has not been seen since--"

"A year before Amarantha's fall," Cassian finished. "Believed to have been executed with his family when Tamlin continued to lack . . . obedience."

"So they lived," Feyre said hollowly, eyes drifting toward the windows where the garden was in view. Elain sat with Nyx as he flapped tiny wings and grasped her skirt to draw her attention to him.

"It seems so," the Illyrian general agreed while Nesta scratched her chin, almost bored of this entire thing.

"So they escape, hide, and then . . . just disappear?" Feyre asked with an icy spike in the tone of her voice that Rhysand knew to be bordering dangerous.

"A lot of Houses fell in the War, and it is possible that Tamlin somehow helped free the Windweavers and attempted to call in a favor later," Amren reminded Feyre bluntly. "Hybern let his soldiers play as they would and some families and their titles were entirely wiped out. The Spring Court relies on House loyalties and the people in each section of land owned by a House to contribute its' army. Autumn Court runs in a similar fashion."

"Spring Court had the Tithe," Feyre said, frowning, "and also made prominent families take people on their territories as soldiers? Is that who Tamlin had as guards on his estate?"

"Likely not," Rhysand told her as he kept sending a soothing rush down the bond toward her. Anytime Feyre learned a new aspect about the Spring Court, it devastated her a little bit more. "Those were probably Fae who came from prominent families of those Houses or Fae who had deep loyalties going back to his family."

"I see." Feyre clasped her hands in her lap in an effort to cease the trembling that threatened to reveal itself. Not from despair, no, Rhysand could feel anger there. Rage and shock. "So this Fae woman. She comes from one of the prominent Houses?"

"Yes," Mor confirmed softly, "but her movements have been much the same. She works at Rita's and goes home after her shift. She's quiet and keeps to herself."

"Did she come with anyone else?" Rhysand asked after an uneasy, but thoughtful, silence.

Amren pursed her lips and shot Azriel a sharp look before finishing off the last of her wine.

The Shadowsinger was hesitating even if his usual stillness radiated his confidence and attempt at nonchalance. "Yes, she came with one other. A child."

"A child," Feyre echoed. Her eyes had been ripped away from their son upon hearing this, and now she had her walls stacked as high and as defensed as they could be. Rhysand brushed against them but it would seem this turmoil was his mates' alone. "There weren't . . . the records of refugees . . ."

“Remember how we discussed a way for fleeing Fae to seek asylum and ensuring their tracks would die at our doorstep?” Rhysand asked quietly, eyes focusing on Feyre.

“Yes. It wasn’t really given a solid outline, though,” Feyre murmured, the glittery makeup around her eyes crinkling with her skin as she eyed him. “Unless it did happen and you didn’t tell me.”

The accusation was piercing, but not untrue.

“It was Mor and Nesta’s project. Amren helped. I had little say in it,” Rhysand confessed.

"We do not always mark down on public records the names of our refugees," Mor took over, speaking to Feyre carefully as she leaned forward in the dining chair and intertwining her fingers together. "We put their names on a list only a three others under our Circle can access and then we store that list in the House of Wind. It is still in its’ infancy and has been used only a handful of times with some denied entries, and we have security checks in place to review the applicants. It takes weeks for them to be allowed into the Court with a citizenship if they request a private status in our records."

"It's a fairly new system," Rhysand reiterated to his wife, reaching out to grasp one of her hands. "We implemented it officially near the birth of Nyx -- and I keep intending to inform you of it.”

Feyre could feel his guilt through their mating bond and blew air through her nostrils. She rubbed at her temples and crossed one leg over the other. “No need to keep me out of the loop on account of my maternity situation. From now on, keep me informed on everything.”

“Of course, Lady,” Mor murmured, dipping her chin. Amren followed suit. “It wasn’t kept from you intentionally.”

Feyre offered a small, comforting smile. “I know. But still done nonetheless. I am able to preform my duties just fine these days and welcome it.” Her eyes glanced at Rhysand accusingly, who had the decency to keep his mouth shut.

Rhysand traced the rim of his glass with his fingertip. “It’s so far been a successful operation, darling.”

“Who’s running it right now?”

Nesta held up her chalice. "I am in charge of the refugees for the most part. When I took your old job part of it is included the safety of displaced folk and giving them a voice and resources."

Feyre nodded, satisfied with her sister’s role in this part of their Circle. She opened her shields just a minuscule ule amount, sending Rhysand reassurance but also digging her claws into his wandering mind. We will discuss this later.

Rhysand did not physically react — but it took his entire being not to flinch as she dug in deeper until releasing him.

"So the child is hers?" Feyre questioned, running one of her fingers across the top of Rhysand's palm to self-soothe. He knew her pain from her experience in the Spring Court ran root-deep, before him, before the Cauldron . . . but he wondered why she felt so incensed by the knowledge of this Fae woman.

"We believe so, but she has no record of mating or marriage. The child is no older than three at most and she only provided a name for her," Nesta replied, snatching another roll and ignoring Cassian's outraged yelp.

"Could this child have been apart of why Sylinor moved them around during the War?" Rhysand wondered, still seeking entry into Feyre's mind through the small gap she opened to him. Gentle brushes and wisps of touch against the shields -- but he backed down when no response was given.

"It is possible," Amren said, "but we do not know for sure. We do not ask about her history and she does not offer it. What we have told you is what we know."

"If she is not a threat or in danger of becoming one," Rhysand finally decided after thinking, "then I suggest that we ease off of following her for now. She sought asylum and it was granted. Let us treat her like a guest rather than a suspect."

"As long as Tamlin does not sniff around asking if his missing cousin is hiding here," his Second drawled, leaning her chin on her hand and squinting like a satisfied cat, "then I do not see an issue in that."

"The High Lord has bigger problems internally right now," Azriel said, mostly to himself by the distant musings in the way he spoke. "He has more concerns than one House being lost to him."

"She's blood," Rhysand countered.

"Since when has blood ever mattered to the High Fae until it suited them?" Nesta asked with a twisted, nasty tone -- and she was right.

"Can you send two more Dawning Brightlights to the table in the corner for me, Windy?" Rita asked, breathless and red-cheeked as she spoke loudly over the even louder crowd that took over her bar this night.

It was a typical busy day you supposed -- though you hardly ever found a slow day at Rita's ever since your first shift and she eagerly brought you on when you told her you would take whatever times she wanted you as long as you did not have to do the midnight shifts.

The money was good and the customers were a breed that only an establishment like Rita's could produce. You worried if you went to the bar just a few blocks down, you'd have had your ass grabbed already.

"Of course!" you call back as you crouch under the bar and pull out ingredients for the drinks she needed. A purple sparkly syrup to drizzle into the bottom of the glass, five second pours of the sweet alcohol that had a strange but harmless shimmer to it, and two perfect mint leaves in each glass and you were off. You swept through the packed building, sweeping under extended arms and narrowly avoiding an unwatchful stagger from an unintended shove.

Chairs being pulled out dodged breezily, and echoes of laughter drowning out muffled apologies as you finally reach your destination.

“Here you go, so sorry for the wait!” You flourished the drinks and let them slide across the table to the two patrons. The two fae raised their glasses at you before downing them and going back to their chatting.

You filled ten more drink requests in under thirty minutes while trying to keep up with the food orders. You were tempted to use your abilities to help you carry things — but doing so would cause great ruckus and you were still hiding. Using it would reveal yourself to your old Court.

“Windweaver!” A familiar song like cry echoed as you dropped some fish and chips off at a burly male’s table. “Oh where art thou, Windweaver?”

Your hair was sticky against your scalp and forehead as you ducked under a pair of dancing Fae and popped up to face the source. It was The Morrigan lounging with her feet on a peanut covered table, grinning wickedly while Amren sat across from her and hissed whenever someone nudged her chair when passing.

“Hi, Mor!” you greeted, relieved and anxious at the sight of her. Her and Amren — and Nesta Archeron — had all been vital in getting you settled in Veralis and you were forever in their debt.

But you feared that your connection to them would mean running into the youngest sister of Nesta and the High Lady of Veralis, of the Night Court, Feyre. You heard only from your mother’s maids what your cousin had forced her to go through.

And you did not want to see the look in her eye the way you did Nesta’s when she realizes who you are and what you run from.

It was your ultimate shame and burden to carry being from the Spring Court, but you did not have anywhere else to go that you’d think could truly shield you from your family should they seek you out.

“You stink,” Amren said by way of greeting, narrowing her eyes at you, “of male.”

You spluttered incoherently at her remark, red. “Amren,” Mor crooned, falsely scolding as she smirked in your direction. “Why are you sniffing her way anyway?”

“Can you not tell that the reek is coming from her?” You did not appreciate the way she eyed you distastefully.

“There is no male,” you said, slapping down menus in front of them despite knowing they get the same thing every time. “I have brushed up against many of them while taking care of customers.”

“Did any of them touch you?”

“No?”

Amren arched a brow. “You’re not sure of that, are you, girl?”

Mor also frowned, tapping her fingernails across the menu in an unsettled manner. “If someone touched you, Windy, Rita —“

You sighed. “I don’t think it was intentional, or I would have felt it and known. I always smell when I work these nights, okay? I’m fine.”

Amren did not look ready to release this from her clutches. “It’s not just a brushing of scents that happen like usual. It’s so soaked into you that I’m almost tempted to force Rita to let you off for the night to bathe.”

“Amren.” You imagined yourself rolling your eyes, but feared the consequences of such actions when it came to the Night Court’s feared Second in Command.

Another arch of a sleek brow, eyes cat-like as she drew in on you. Mor stood by and studied the menu as though she planned on changing her meal choice tonight.

“I genuinely,” you began, “have no male in my life — and I believe I would know if one was scenting me.” You rested your hip against the table to try and remove some weight from your ankles and feet. You were sore.

Mor and Amren didn’t seem satisfied despite you speaking the truth, but they did feel content enough to let it go and instead order their usual drink and meals. You swiped their menus under your arm and head back to the bar to put the order in to the kitchen.

The rest of the night slowed down after that odd interaction. You delivered the drinks to Amren and Mor and ignored the way Amren wrinkled her nose at you whenever you approached. You tried not to take it personally, not with Amren.

When it came close to ten in the evening, you started counting your tips as your replacement, Malora, swept in and greeted you cheerfully.

You decided to stop by Amren and Mor’s table one more time and check on them again before you left. You had your apron draped over your arm and your hair pulled up into a high ponytail. “Hey, is there anything else you’d like me to grab you? I’m heading out pretty much now otherwise.”

Amren waves you off as she downs her fifth drink but Mor looked up to give you a response, pauses at something with a flash of alarm in her eye. Her glass slips from her hand and it shatters on the table.

“Morrigan!” Amren snapped, sliding her chair back before the liquid could pour into her lap. “By the Cauldron, usually you don’t get into dropping things until you’re ten drinks in —“

“Amren.”

“What?” she snapped again, eyes shooting up and meeting your confused ones. She then shot a glare at more, followed her eyesight, and she too seemed to freeze briefly.

“Let me get a rag.” You throw your belongings onto the empty chair at the table and quickly walk across the tavern and get behind the bar to dig out a clean rag, maybe three, to help clean the mess.

When you walked back toward them, they were arguing quietly. You strained to listen, but even your Fae ears were weak at hearing after the War.

After everything.

You unfolded one and started laying it across the spilled mess and drifting the glass and alcohol in one direction; away from both of them.

“Girl,” Amren said tightly. You paused and noticed his strained Amren looked, and the way Mor’s body seemed to be alight with nervous energy, “how long has that been there?”

“What?”

A thin, foreboding finger pointed just above your shoulder to the spot where your neck and shoulder met. Concerned by her and Mor’s actions, you reach up to brush your fingers along the skin but find nothing amiss. “What’s there?”

“Do you need a mirror,” Mor asked, but she did not wait for a response as she reached into the small handbag on the back of her chair and pulled one of the fancy little carry on mirror’s you see in boutiques for sale. Too expensive for you to afford.

You lift the mirror until it’s in the line of sight they pointed out, reflecting the offending part of your body. At first you weren’t entirely sure what they were talking about. But then you looked closer and noticed it just creeping out behind your ear. You tilted the mirror up and to the side until it faced the back of your pointed ear and swallowed at what you found.

Outlining the skin that connected your ear to your head was inked and drifted out into swirling mist-like markings until it faded just out of view. Very underwhelming in hindsight, but a shock because you do not remember having this.

“Oh,” you said quietly as you lowered the mirror. Breathed out. Handed the object back to Mor.

The most awkward silence you had ever experienced.

“Oh,” Mor agreed thickly, nails digging into the wood of the table as she met your gaze.

“That’s a mating mark of a High Lord,” Amren said, slow and dark, eyes piercing you as you started backing away, and dug your own nails into your palms. “But which one?”

“I’m not mated,” you spit out, “to anybody.”

“The bond says otherwise.”

You looked at both females, your heart beginning to race in your chest and did the only thing you knew how to do.

You ran.

PART TWO

[winwintea]

SELLING MY MOOTIES <33

ib: @https-lvesick 🫶

guys i’m very possessive i either sell you for a potato chip or never let you go okay just warning you in advance

AQUA - @aquaphoenixz

pros: he’s canadian (+10000 aura) / very soft literally so adorable / <- gets super flustered when you call him adorable / also will fight and defend you when needed / he listens to all your yaps / literally my husband / will buy you stuff ????? pls don’t ???? / big exol / but you can convert him to any other group

cons: you have to go through me to get to him (i can also fight) / inner entp makes him a bit stubborn / i’m trying to list off cons so you don’t want him but i genuinely can’t think of anything

price: you thought. 😡😡 he’s not for sale thanks

LOLA - @https-lvesick

pros: i’m trying to think. good fics i guess makes me horny 😔

cons: she hates me. SHE THINKS I’M WORTH 1 DOLLAR BITHC THE FUCK YOU AINT EVEN WORTH A POTATO CHIP I’D SELL YOU FOR / a bitch. 😡

price: 1 gum wrapper. i also need mental compensation.

ELLIE - @jirsungs

pros: gegorgeoyes / literally so sweet / can do no wrong trust

cons: will ghost you but she got finals to ace so it’s okay / pls update / jk i have no complaints

price: 1 million usd (not letting u go without a price smh)

LYVHIE - @lyvhie

pros: always down to play roblox fr 😋 (or any games) / will let you traumatize her / sends you random reels and says “that’s you” / good with kids / listens to your yaps / very respectful to my cock

cons: sucky artist… / sometimes the reels are kinda foul / hates #1, believes #0 is better than #1???? / disappears and then comes back randomly

price: 127 元

HUA - @polarisjisung

pros: loves your yaps <3 / PARK JISUNG IRL / comes with cats / LITERALLY SMARTEST PERSON I KNOW ??? (goes to a crazy good school) / almost got kidnapped probably but she’s too powerful for this world / excellent music taste

cons: cats are probably a better deal lowkey just take the cats

price: park jisung

STARCH - @syatchy

pros: literally a cat / SO FUNNY will make you laugh / very pretty / and cute ofc / stardew valley <33 / kinda rich… 😋😋 / australian 🤗 / peak music taste / slowly getting converted into kpop stan (shhh don’t tell them) / big yapper

cons: oddly horny… very often but it’s okay me too / awake at interesting hours / no sleep schedule / i fell in love with an emo gurl 😔 / will describe in depth and detail how ftm and mtf surgery works

price: 20 cats

VIA - @viasdreams

pros: very silly and fun to have conversations with / probably loaded how else she gonna afford all those pcs (spoil me pls) / angst bestie / 🤠🤠🤠 / neo neo

cons: hatsune miku lover in 2025 /j / weird kid turned… weird kid? / have to take a deep breath everytime i read one of her fics / lowkey these cons can be pros too if you’re into that

price: her entire pc collection

NAYU - @yutarot

pros: you get fic spoilers 😚 / 🤝 gives followers trauma and trust issues / it’s THE YUTAROT / literally a god / FEMALE ENTP I LOVE YOU

cons: none.

price: yuta nakamoto

KIWI - @wonbin-truther

pros: very very creative / super down bad for gong yoo (me too bestie) / literally a baddie okay / very very chaotic (in a good way) / keeps you on your toes

cons: will randomly message you at 12 am with “WAKE UP” damn girl chill /j ily / frat party girl 🙀 / crashes out a lot pls take care of yourself / smaus make me wanna kms sometimes but they’re lowkey fire anyways

price: $420,690 + 127 packs of ramen i need to pay my college tuition thanks

[90ekz]

RYUSEI SHIDOU BF HEADCANONS <3

cw : chubbyblackfem!reader, smut, possessiveness, foul language, blasian!ryu, he’s a lil mean but we luv.

- ngl, this mf has a really weird obsession with your tits. like, it borders on creepy. you can’t do anything without him coming behind you and sticking his hands up your bra. fuckin’ weirdo.

- smells really fresh, yet warm at the same time. like a mix of spring rain w/ a side of male ignorance. quite nice, at least to you.

- loves nothing more than waking up to you with your legs slung around his waist. he finds that shit so cute.

- absolutely gets a kick out of making you mad during sex. just got ur hair done? he’s pulling on it extra hard. just used the last bit of ur favorite gloss? he’s smearing it all over his cock while fucking your throat. he’s a dickhead fr LMFAO

- talks so fuckin’ condescending to you. always talkin bout “hmm?” and “oh yeah?”, cause he knows that his voice does it for you. when you woke up the morning after your first time w him, and his voice was all husky—whew lord.

“heh.” you threw an annoyed look over your shoulder, hoping that he’d get the memo that your wobbly legs and sore back were not funny. he held back anothet chuckle as he got up and held your waist on the way to the bathroom. his other hand snaked to your jaw as he feigned sadness. “‘m sorry mama. dont be mad at me baby.” with that same damned tone in his voice.

- possessive as hell. like it’s so bad LMFAO. he’s a firm believer that any man who comes near you should die by his hands, unfortunately. he just can’t help it, you’re his favorite lil’ thing, cut him some slack :(

“next time he comes near you, ON GOD im tying him to the bottom of the ocean and running him over wit a fuckin’ submarine, cause who the fuck??”

- the first time you came to one of his games and he noticed you waving a big sign in the air with “i <3 ryu!” in big letters, he knew that he was in love with you. his teammates had never seen him smile so big.

- his fav nicknames? sugar, baby, ma, mama, princess. he’s so bleh :((

- big girl enthusiast. if you ain’t 2sumn to do sumn get out his dms fr.

- his fav domestic thing is cooking with you, well, while you watch. one hand is cooking, the other is fondling the fat of your ass with his big ol’ hands. he’s absolutely convinced that the food comes out better when he does it.

- before y’all even got together, he was shoving it down sae’s throat how he got a girlfriend before him, and how y’all were gonna go out on dates whenever you stopped playin games. delusional ass.

“didn’t you just say-" “man, she slid up on my story! that means that she’s soooo in love with me! right?!” “totally. yep.”

[kurov1864]

Robin dating hcs!!

- Aggressive cuddler. As in, he'll jump onto you kind of hugging. He'll wrap around you like a snake when cuddling. He'll squeeze you until you can't breathe and wouldn't let go even if the world was ending type shit.

- Might be projecting a bit but he might be insecure about being from a branch family?? In one of the manga chapters, Bachiko mentions that Robin is the perfect archer, but it was a shame that he comes from a branch family.

- ACTS. OF. SERVICE. While he is super clingy, making you think that his love language is physical touch, he actually expresses way more affection through doing stuff for you!! Like cooking for you (malewife material fr), pulling your blanket up when you fall asleep, preparing you a snack pack to boost your energy (and hopefully your patience) after being drained by an exhausting morning of teaching students, and organizing surprise dates. Mostly food-related tbh,,,

- Ohmygod the dates. I'm not sure what is up with him and dates but he love love loves to make each date more unique then the last. For example? A picnic date near the everflowing lava lake, where you both compete to see who can guess which geyser shoots the highest. A fishing date in the clouds, where you both quite literally fish for birds. An archery date in a crystal cavern, where you both rely on your senses and the random bursts of light the crystals emit to take each other down. With him, you would never have a "normal" date.

- Also really connected with nature. If you're not the outdoorsy type, you two might not be the best match. When he's not focusing on his students or his many teacher tasks, you can probably find him wandering around Babyls, exploring every nook and inch and finding more hidden gems. (I have a hc that Babyls is a lot like Hogwarts, with many unexplored areas that aren't shown on screen, just because it would be cool)

- Communication is key!! He's not afraid to state his feelings loud and clear, and probably expects you to do the same. If you don't say anything nor show any physical signs of discomfort, he'll take that as an OK to continue doing whatever he's doing. Please don't make him have to guess why you're in a bad mood. No matter how observant his archers eyes are, they're not all-seeing. This also means that if you're doing something that makes him uncomfortable, he'll tell you in a very straightforward manner, maybe a little more hesitant if you enjoy doing that thing a lot.

- The whole "communication is key" part will also carry over to fights. Remember, when you two fight it's you two against the problem, not each other. While that doesn't mean that you both can't show emotion to have a perfectly rational conversation, it would be appreciated if there were no emotional walls up.

- Big on PDA in front of friends/in public, a bit more toned down in front of students. Like, you cannot tell me that he's not the type to jump on you, sit on your lap, intertwine your hands and kiss your cheeks. He doesn't really see a need to keep his relationship private (not that he can), but did he really have to stuff it in everybody's faces that you two were dating? Oh absolutely.

- This brings me to my next hc. Despite being sunshine incarnate, he can get awfully possessive. That's why he wants to tell everybody that you were his by acting so affectionately out in public. This way, nobody could ever doubt or even think that you two weren't together. And well, if there actually was some knucklehead that apparently didn't get the message, he would make sure that before your next meeting with them, you would be... appropriately marked as his. Of course, he could always use his image as a socially oblivious teacher to use and scare them off imply that you two were dating.

- Speaking of socially oblivious, I hope you realize he is anything but. As I've mentioned before, being an archer and all it's in his blood to be observant. This translates to him being able to sense anytime you are in a foul mood. And being the attentive and caring lover that he is, of course he's going to try and comfort you! You don't want to tell him what's wrong? That's totally fine. He'll cook you a nice hot meal while you shower, and try to cheer you up by telling you silly stories over the dining table. Expect a few movies to be put on while you two cuddle, anything to make you feel loved and protected. You want to vent about your day? That's good as well! He'll take it as a compliment that you trust him enough to not tell anybody. Although he's usually hyper and speaks up whenever he wants, for you Robin would just sit and listen, nodding and giving appropriate comments whenever needed until you're all tuckered out.

- When finding out you're human, I honestly don't think much would change. He has full faith in Suvillian's evaluation of you, and he wouldn't allow somebody who is weak and defenceless to join the faculty. Probably the only difference would be him trying to find out more about the human world, because he's just naturally curious about everything.

- DATES FOR MARRAIGE. I cannot stress this enough. Although he's not extremely traditional like Kalego, he is extremely loyal. This means that if he agrees to date you it's basically a declaration that he wants to marry and spend the rest of his life with you. He will not get into a relationship that he thinks won't last because he simply thinks it wouldn't be fair to both parties.

- Loves cheesy nicknames. Things like "cutie pie", "bugaboo", and "my lil cutie patootie". He absolutely refuses to use normal nicknames, just because. Favorite part of the day is to shout those in front of students, just to see your face turn red and try to shut him up.