#everyone please finish listening/reading it its so good

[sparrowdoodles]

For anyone who cant watch prison of plastic for whatever reason I’ve summed it up in this easy to digest diagram

[taintandviolent]

Turbo Lover ; Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: After getting fed up with Jason Carver and his gross attitude, reader decides to take him up on a dare. That dare, is kissing Eddie Munson on the mouth. Something she's been longing to do since she arrived in Hawkins.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.5K | female reader, smut, use of pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), fingering, handjobs.

a/n: started writing this back in *checks watch* july of 2022....... ahem. finished writing this to turbo lover by judas priest, if you wanna listen! just felt like an eddie song to me, don't ask for clarification. this could possibly be a multi-parter, haven't decided yet. my first (technically) eddie fic...... do not come for my throat, thanks. not beta-read, yada yada yada. divider by @/strangergraphics!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

“Oh, choke on it, Jason.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Mrs. Cowan for a replacement lab partner.”

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to fling your forkful of corn at him. “Hah! Please do. I’d rather stick my tongue down Eddie Munson’s throat and spend the weekend with mono than spend another blissful second trying to watch you figure out anatomy, dipshit.”

“Go do it then. I dare you.” Jason barks, nostrils flaring. He was going to call your bluff. There was no way that you were going to go over to that weird satanist’s table. Being more of a rocker, you weren’t posh and cute like Chrissy was, but you still had boundaries. And a good head on your shoulders. He knew you did. He hoped you did.

“Fine,” you snap, slamming both palms onto the table. “I hope you fail your science project.” Jason’s confident expression falls. Your rings scrape against the plastic as you push yourself up. With more determination than you’d had the entire semester, you swing both your legs over the bench and head for Eddie’s table, navigating around the other tables. The rest of his little dungeon buddies are already gawking at you as they’d been paying attention to the shouting. Confidently, you take a running leap up onto the table, and stomp your way down its length like a soldier marching towards enemy fire. The target, Eddie Munson, was staring at you with wide eyes and brows lifted.

“Outta my way.” The pointed tip of your boot sends an empty lunch tray flying off the table and clattering onto the floor.

“Hey, Munson!” You drop down onto your haunches, and now, eye-level with him, grab his face and pull it towards you, crushing your lips against his. The roll he’s holding drops from his grasp, falling lifelessly onto his tray. As soon as his plush lips press into yours, giving way to your tugging, your shoulders relax, melting into the kiss. You had been waiting for an excuse to get his attention since you’d sat down in your first class at Hawkins High, daydreaming about talking to him. You’d spent many a class period staring at Eddie’s lips, so you expected the kiss would be enjoyable… but not like this.

At first, both of your lips were closed, smushed together in the hurriedness of the moment, but when you exhale and his lips part, your tongue delves into his mouth, sweeping along his. To your surprise, he reciprocates the action, and presses his chin up into yours, asserting a new sort of need. Despondent groans and laughs of shock pepper the cafeteria around you, and from behind you, came the confusion of the other residents of the table. As you take Eddie Munson in literal mouthfuls, you felt something shift in him, and the noise started to fade away. You tilt your head, and push deeper into the kiss.

“Who the hell is she?” One of the boys asks, clearly as confused as everyone else was.

You shudder against him, feeling a burning heat between your legs, and immediately pull away to stand up, turning to face the far table. Jason was staring at you, looking more embarrassed than disgusted, but he did well hiding it with his scholarship scowl. You wipe the back of your hand across your mouth, drawing your — Eddie’s— the mutual saliva across your cheek. Triumphantly, you hold your arms out, daring the blonde haired moron to say anything further. He doesn’t. 

With a proud smirk on your face, you pivot back to Eddie, lips parted to speak, maybe to apologize to him for being so forward. All that comes out though, is the jarring echo of the lunch bell as it rings loudly through the cafeteria. You take that as an excuse to get out of the situation, and step down onto the bench between two of his little minions, then onto the floor. With your heart pounding in your chest like a drum, you make a beeline for the lockers. You’re practically running down the halls, and for what? To get away from Eddie? The guy you had just swapped spit with? And liked it?  

After shaking his head free of the shock, Eddie hurriedly bins his lunch and takes off after you, leaving the boys to their own devices. He was panting quietly once he’d finally caught up to you. “Hey, just wait a minute, okay?”

You say nothing, and keep digging in your locker for a book you knew wasn’t there. You’d left it at home, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

“Come on, you can’t just plant something like that on me and run away, man.” You hear a thump against the locker next to you, and out of the corner of your eye, see him leaning his shoulder into it. You huff and keep digging.

“You really think I’d give you mono?” He asks, sounding hurt.

Forcing your breath out through your teeth, you stop digging, and lean back to look at him. Those puppy eyes…

“No,” you say, feeling bad that he even heard that to begin with. You shut the locker. “I don’t. But the point was that I’d rather suffer with y— errr suffer any sort of wicked sickness than be even remotely happy around him.”

“So… why’d you stop? Was it that bad?”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I stopped because I… um, the bell was going to ring.” That was a lie. You stopped because your beating heart had sunk between your legs. Kissing him was a massive turn-on, but you weren’t about to admit that.

“That it did…” he starts, absentmindedly playing with a strand of his own hair. “And now we’re late.”

You narrow your eyes. His brows flick upwards and the tip of his tongue presses pointedly into his lower lip, a little glimmer of mischief in his expression. Ready to prove him wrong, your eyes dart to the clock above the lockers, the visual causing you to curse under your breath. You hadn’t even heard the second bell, but he was right. Three minutes past. And Mr. Jenkins? Didn’t let anyone in after the bell rang. Fucker. Eddie shimmies closer, his soft, brown eyes falling to your lips. He was smiling, watching you and looking like he was daydreaming about having those soft lips against his again. 

“You wanna’... maybe show me what else you’d rather be doing than spending your time with brainless Ken dolls?”

You considered the offer for a moment. You had been pining after him since your first English class with him, and now… your split decision had thrown open the door to opportunity. When you’d tried to close it, Eddie had put his dirty white Reebok right in the way.

“Screw it, let’s go.” 

“Yeah?” He confirms, excited.

“Yeah.” 

Eddie wastes no time, taking hold of your hand as he passes you, towing you in the direction of the doors and out into the parking lot. 

How did you end up here? In retrospect; you’d probably have to thank Jason for pissing you off that day, in that particular way that really drove you over the edge. Because if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been crawling into the back of Eddie Munson’s van while he stood behind you, looking at the gentle curve of your ass.

After throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder, making sure there weren’t any prying eyes watching the two of you, Eddie follows you inside and pulls the door shut behind him, the metal squeaking loudly. You sit down and cross your legs, resting against the interior wall. The inside of his van is warm, having baked in the sun all afternoon. Cassette tapes litter the floor behind the seats, and a Judas Priest shirt hangs over the headrest of the passenger seat. A few undisclosed cables are wadded up in the corner, you assume they were musical in nature. He seemed like the type. It’s exactly what you’d pictured his van to look like. 

Eddie clears his throat. “Sorry about the… mess.” 

You chuckle, looking brightly at him. “I don’t care. Plus, Judas Priest is rad. That song that came out last month… Turbo Lover? Gets stuck in my head all the time.” 

Delighted by this reaction, Eddie knee-walks over to you, that same mischievous smile on his face as before. He leans down, exhaling over your lips before looking into your eyes with a burning curiosity.

“Why were you sitting at his table anyway? You don’t seem like his type.” 

“His type? Gah, gross. No. We’re lab partners. Regrettably. Turns out, he’s kind of a massive dolt when it comes to science.” You pause and heave a sigh, your breath rushing out over his cheeks. He blinks. “I really don’t want to talk about Jason right now, Eddie.” 

“Oh yeah, totally.” With that, his hand snaps to your jaw, where he holds it gently, his thumb stroking your cheek. “You wanna’ makeout or something?” 

You can’t help but laugh, unsure if it’s because of the butterflies in your stomach, or because he’s kind of a dork. Smooth and very charming, but a dork all the same. You chalk it up to a combination of both and lean forward until the tips of your noses touch. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanna’ makeout. Again.”

This time, Eddie is the one to initiate the kiss. He presses his lips against yours softly a few times, your lips sticking together each time he pulls away. Relishing in the taste of you, he hums into the kiss, pressing himself closer to you. After a few moments, he breaks the kiss to readjust his position. The break is too long, it seems, because before you know it, he’s back to leaning over you and craning his neck down to kiss you from above. His hands drop to find your neck, his thumb trailing down over the front of it while the others stay tenderly wrapped around the side, squeezing slightly. The motion sends a deep shiver down your spine, reigniting the embers of your arousal. Eddie laughed breathily into the kiss. 

“Quite the reaction…” he murmurs over your lips.

“Oh, shuttup.” Your hand makes a fist in his shirt, pulling him back onto you. “Keep kissing me.” 

“As you wish.” He says dreamily, with lust woozying his speech. His voice is slightly deeper now, laced with hunger, and you whimper, pressing your knees together. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices this, and moves his free hand to your kneecaps, wriggling in between them to separate them. They fall apart with no resistance, and again, Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against your lips, sending a tickling wave over them. Your willingness almost embarrasses you, but when Eddie says nothing, only moves to slot himself in between your thighs, you realize that he’s into it. 

“No need to be shy here, princess. Just you and me.”

Your hands wrap around his neck, fingers splaying out over his back. “God, you’re cute.” 

“So are you.” 

“No, you’re really cute.” 

Eddie pulls away, furrowing his brow as if he’s confused. He is – he’s confused on whether or not you realize he thinks you’re a catch, too. You sense the confusion, and roll your hips up against his. His breath hitches in his throat, eyeing you pleadingly. It’s a warning – you can’t do things like that lest he lose control.  

“Uuughh,” you moan. “I don’t know why it took me this long to kiss you.” 

“Me neither.” 

He presses his lips against yours again, his tongue slipping past the two plush pillows, tasting the waxiness of your lipstick. Swiping his tongue along yours, he deepened the kiss, enticing you to join in a painfully erotic dance of spit-swapping. He exhales hotly over your mouth and grinds his hips against yours, groaning softly into your mouth. You grind back, knowing exactly what you’re doing. You can feel what you’re doing to him; it was currently pressed against your inner thigh. 

You reach down between your bodies, finding the warm bulge in the front of his black jeans and give him a soft squeeze. The sudden contact makes him lurch forward, crushing himself somehow further against you. He can’t get any closer to you without melting into your body which, in truth, makes him crazy. He makes a sound — something between a whine and a gasp — and ruts his hips against your center. The pressure has you reeling, pressing your back against the inside of the van. 

“Eddie, fuck…” 

“Yeah,” he echoes your sentiment, nodding his head so enthusiastically that his soft brown hair flutters. 

“Can I…?” 

He grins. “You can if I can. It’s only fair.” 

You let your legs fall farther apart, granting him access. With a newfound urgency, you quickly yank on his waistband, pull the silver button from its slit and maneuver your hand inside the elastic of his boxers. On the way down, you rake your fingers through the thatch of brown hair above his cock. Eddie responds by tightening his grip on your neck instinctively. The tips of your fingers find the searing hot head of his cock, precum leaking from the slit. With an audible mmmm, you swipe your thumb over it, smearing around the underside of the tip. Eddie hisses through his teeth, rutting his hips over and over again – forcing you to jerk him off a little. The tip slides through your fist, slippery and warm and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sound. 

“Wow,” you breathe, in awe. You weren’t sure what you expected, but feeling a cock this heavy wasn’t on the menu. You’d been with a few metalheads before, and they were all average at best. You thought he’d follow suit. Not heavy in your hand. But he is. God, he is. Eddie licks hungrily at your mouth before running his tongue along your bottom lip and taking it between his teeth, biting down slightly. You groan, pressing your head back against the wall. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you say, breathlessly before squeezing his cock again. It twitches in your grip, hardening just a little bit further. You can feel the tension in his lower abdomen every time you slip your hand deeper into his boxers, tugging at his cock as you slide back up. 

His hands drop from your neck to your waist to your hips, his thumb making circles on the strip of exposed stomach flesh between your black leather skirt and your shirt. One hand sinks lower,  moving from your hip to your leg, sliding against the pillowy, cream soft flesh of your inner thigh.  It slides up your skirt, pressing against the nylons, and grazing your cunt from the outside. Inside his jeans, your hand starts to go slack, but Eddie quickly snaps you back to attention.

“I’m gonna’ need you to stay focused, baby. Don’t stop.”  

“S-sorry.” You pick up the pace, stroking his cock again at a much steadier speed. He lets out a soft groan, the feeling of your hand gently stroking his dick sending him into a haze of pleasure. But, he, too, has to focus. 

Eddie gets back to work, carefully undoing the zipper on the side of your skirt. He tugs, shimmying the skirt down over your hips and continues pulling until he pauses to pull your legs from the black circle, tossing it towards the van doors. Now, the only thing between him and your cunt is the fabric of your tights and your white satin underwear. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is Eddie – the look on his face says it all. He sweeps you into another kiss. 

It’s almost as if he was using the kiss as a distraction from the adept way he’s rolling your nylons off your hips and down your thighs. You almost don’t feel it and don’t notice until he’s got them down around your ankles. 

“May I?” 

“May you? What is this –” You asked, trying to tease him, but your voice is so high pitched, so feathery with lust, that it just sounds ridiculous. You huff and nod, giving him whatever permission he felt he needed. 

His middle finger traces the visible slit in your underwear and embarrassingly, your whole body responds. From your legs snapping shut on his hand to the utterly humiliating moan that tumbled off your lips, there’s no coming back from that reaction. Eddie laughs quietly, almost devilishly and you relax your legs again. 

“Sorry, I’ve… I’ve been…. Um…” 

“Keep talkin’, sweetheart.”

“Oh god, fuck… I’ve kinda’ sorta’ had a thing for you since English with M–”

“Mrs. Lawrence? Last semester.” 

Your mouth hung slack. He knew? 

“You really thought you’d walk in, looking the way you do, and I wouldn’t remember?” 

Your stomach tightens underneath your shirt; butterflies are erupting beneath the skin. Any further jabs to your heart and they actually might rupture through your ribcage.

His finger sweeps along your center again, before hooking around the scalloped edge of the panties and pulling them down over the curve of your hip. A clear, slick strand stretches between your cunt and the fabric before snapping. Eddie growls, a deeply pleased sound erupting from his throat. 

Two fingers part your folds, sweeping tantalizingly at the underside of your clit before sliding down to your entrance. He prods the opening with his middle first, making tiny circles and spreading your arousal around your cunt. Finally, he inserts both fingers, sinking them to the knuckle. Moving his arm, you watch as the bats literally fly back and forth and let out a small, breathy laugh. The way he was working you felt so good, your hand instinctively tightened around his cock. Eddie shuffled closer, his knee in front of your cunt. Before you have time to react, Eddie abruptly takes hold of your left hand and brings it above your head, holding it tight against the wall of his van, his rings pressing into your fingers. Your digits tangle with his and he flays them open.

He continues thrusting his fingers in and out, watching your every move. You looked up and whined loudly; the sight of your smaller hand entangled with his larger one was divine, and sent another shockwave through your core. The coil in your stomach wound tighter, and tighter. Your body flushed with heat, and you were suddenly wishing you were naked underneath him. Eddie suddenly leans over you, pressing the side of his face against yours. 

“I’m your turbo lover…” He sings quietly in your ear, his tone honeyed and low, absolutely dripping with sex appeal. Your eyes roll back in your head, your jaw falling open. “...tell me there’s no other…” 

“Oh fuck, Eddie, oh my god-!”

At the singing, your needy pussy clenched around his digits, shivering violently. His thumb moves to your swollen, tender clit, rubbing it back and forth expertly. The coil snaps, and you moan loudly, banging your head against the wall a few times. 

“OH MY GOD!” 

You shouldn’t have found it so hot, but the way he sung the lyrics into your ear sent a wave of electricity through your entire body. As the sound of your moans reach his ears, Eddie groans and bucks his hips rhythmically, pumping himself closer to the edge of orgasm. 

After a few more pumps from you, his back arches and he groans your name – another surprise that he knows that – as his hot, sticky release coats your fingers as wave after wave of pleasure surges through him. The flushed, pink tip was exposed enough that when he does finally lose it, the first spurts of cum find their way onto your shirt. He doesn’t notice right away, still thrusting his hips into your loose fist. Finally, he brings his head forward to look at you again. His chest is heaving, panting from the exertion, and his eyes trail from your face down to your shirt. The wanton look is replaced with one of horror. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry! Here uh,” Eddie paused, stretching over to yank the shirt from the seat. “Wear this. I promise it’s clean. Decently… uh… clean.” 

You didn’t care if it wasn’t. The fact that he had given you his shirt because he accidentally came on yours was single handedly the cutest thing you’d ever had a guy do for you. You withdrew your hand from his boxers, and he let go of your other hand. Quickly, you pulled your shirt over your head and wadded it up in a ball, setting it next to you. His shirt was baggy, but you quickly remedy that by tying the front in a knot. The way that Eddie’s eyes skirted over your breasts wasn’t lost on you. You smirk. 

“Think Mr. Jenkins noticed we were both gone?” He asks as you fluff your hair. 

“Probably. F’s for both of us.” 

Eddie smiles.

You look down at the shirt, trying to talk your blushing cheeks down. “I’ll give this back to you. Remind me.” 

“Sure,” he says, not fully convinced he wants it back. He likes the idea of you wearing his shirt around school. A dirty little reminder of what occurred. “You should come to one of our meetings.” 

“Meetings?” You ask, quirking a brow. 

“Yeah,” he says, plucking his shirt. Your eyes drift down to the red, snarling demon on his chest. The words Hellfire Club crown the demon, decorated with medieval looking weapons.

“Right, right. Dungeons and Dragons… I’ve never played it.”

“I’ll teach you, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” 

[PART TWO HERE]

[princesssmars]

i'd love just about anyone, so why was it you?

a victoria neuman x reader

your talent for singing is finally starting to take you places in the city of lights. so why did it have to introduce you to a woman who might ruin it all?

wc : 10.248

contains : fxf relationship. readers hair and skin aren't described. fluff. angst.nsfw including sex and language. the french. barely proof-read.

a/n : i cant believe there are no fics for this fine ass woman yet but i am nothing but a pioneer idk. in my daydreams this was like mafia au victoria but i literally never write or dream of those so i opted out lmao. go watch gen v. everyone always talks about how good the cover is but nonante-cinq by angele is a beautiful album so i recommend listening to that for french vibes. enjoy <3

it was the most stereotypical and overplayed song ever, but damn did you love la vie en rose.

just the concept of the song was romantic to you. to live every day like it would be magnificent, like you could know a day would be your last and look back at it and not regret a single thing. it meant looking at the world with a positivity that these days was mostly faked or artificial.

after the life you've lived, the things you've seen firsthand, you need that positive light in your life more than anything else. especially right now, as your manager is hounding you over the phone about your next gig.

now you loved your manager, nancy, you really did. she took you in and was honest when no one else would be, stood by you when no one else wanted to give you a real chance. but sometimes it felt like she didn't really believe in you. obviously, she believed you had talent, or else she would have 'left you in the dust for the rats to pick apart,' in her own words. it was almost like she couldn't fathom that what you had was real, like you didn't truly deserve all the things that were coming to you.

but as long as you were paying her, she didn't bother to speak up on it.

you were listening to her drone on and on into the speaker from your phone, holding the object up to your ear with one hand as you hold a menu to order something from the cafe waitress who's waiting beside you.

"ill have an uhhhh... le marie antoinette, and a coffee with sugar and cream please," you hand the menu to the waitress after she writes down your order, heading back into the cafe with a smile. this cafe was one of your favorites, nestled below an apartment building in one of the inner city arrondissements so you could sit outside beneath an umbrella and admire the city before you. "nancy, i don't see why i can't just...politely turn it down? it sounds like it's a glorified pin-up girl gig, le bellevilloise is offering for me to sing there exclusively for three months-"

"no, that's what im trying to tell you if you'd let me finish." you can hear nancy's telltale sigh through the phone. she had a short temper when she was stressed, something you sadly had in common, and you could hear her clicking a pen through the receiver. "this is an international gala slash fundraiser, attended by the one percent of the one percent. billionaires, senators, diplomats, everything. the event organizer asked for you specifically, so turning it down is a bad look. aka, you're doing it. go out and get a pretty dress. ill send you more details later."

the phone shut off and you let out a huff of air, crossing your right leg over your left beneath the table. once you have your meal and bite into your pastry you can't help but close your eyes at how good it tastes; the combination of the crunch of the macarons, the near-overwhelming sweetness of the cream, and the savory juice that leaks from the raspberries never gets old.

you don't know how you feel about this whole gala thing. sure its a great way to make connections and earn a fat stack of cash that will probably last you few weeks, but you've learned before that the people that you most admire, celebrities, politicians, even superheroes, can't be trusted. and being in a room full of them to perform wasn't at the top of your christmas wish list.

but like everyone else in the world, you were finding money hard to pass up on. just by the lowball nancy told you, you'd be able to comfortably pay the next month's rent and fix up your electric scooter, maybe even enough to save up for that beautiful flat you saw online with the grand windows and nice floor plan.

it'd only be a few hours of singing and kissing up to a bunch of snobs and you'd be done. easy peasy.

finding a dress wasn't to hard. your modeling connections from before you started to focus on singing gave you access to a few, good quality clearance pieces for your picking. you figure that the people you were performing for would prefer something classy and elegant, so you picked out a sleeveless black dress with black opera gloves, accessorized by a diamond necklace and earrings. one of your stylist friends, alex, who you asked to help do up your hair told you 'you're definitely gonna shag a rich man looking like this, just ask them if they have any friends for me!' and after a quick 'please don't wish that upon me' and a spritz of perfume you were ready.

the hours before you got on stage were nothing short of both nerve-racking but exhilarating. you rode in a standard taxi, your slight jitters noticed by the slightly balding man in the front. he eyes you pretty oddly when you got in the car before using you if you were a model, telling you that his daughter would like an autograph if you were. you felt slightly flustered when you had to tell him you weren't, but gave him some tips to tell his daughter if she wanted to pursue it. after around twenty minutes of driving through the city the car stops and you're escorted by a crew member into a grand building, those types you pass by and dream of getting the chance just to step into.

after that its a rush of meeting the event planner who gives you another run down of the evening and then meeting with the band members, a nice group of jazz players who you had heard about on the news for their blends of old and new methods of performing music. they played you a piece on their instruments in their dressing room, and it felt like hanging out with old friends listening to tunes as one twirled you around and the others laughed and the air felt warm and fuzzy.

later its time for your set, where you'll sing as the guests come in and take occasional breaks to save your breath and let whoever is hosting this talk. so you get up on your mini stage, make sure you look alright and you're in tune with the band, and then you do what you do best.

you've never felt better than how you do while you sing. every time you do so you tell a story, tales of success and tragedy and love and heartache. while you sing your favorite thing to do is to admire the crowd. when you were younger it gave you horrible stage fright, but as you grew up and saw just how much people loved your voice it made you confident, if not the tiniest bit narcissistic.

as you look out at the guests of tonight you see what's expected. important and powerful men donned in suits, their wives standing on their arms in glamourous gowns, you swear that you even see some fairly famous celebs in the mix, and they were all listening intently to you and your voice.

and that's when you saw her. near the back of the room with a glass of red wine in her hand, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and darker eyes trained on you. in this profession you get used to people staring at you for hours on end, but something about this woman unnerves you slightly.

a short while later your set is over and after a round of applause the organizer tells you to enjoy yourselves, and that you're free to indulge in whatever food is left. after a brief touch-up in the dressing room and making sure you look presentable, you head out to get yourself something to eat. you keep getting stopped by people telling you how beautiful your performance was, how they'd love to get in contact with your agent to book you for future events, and your regular dose of creepy old guys hitting on you. but besides that things were going pretty well.

some servers were waking around with trays of champagne, but you figured since everything was complimentary you would treat yourself to something stronger. you head to the bar and order yourself a strong cocktail, and as soon as you finish your order a figure sits on the stool next to yours.

"get me a scotch on the rocks, thanks."

you glance at them from the corner of your eye and feel your heart beat faster when you see

it's the woman from before. from this close distance, you can admire her entirely, and god is she gorgeous. she looks so put together, not a hair out of place, and wearing a perfectly tailored suit that makes you guess she's some kind of wealthy businesswoman.

after not so secretly checking her out, she turns her body towards you and looks at you with a smile.

"im sure you already know, but you have an enchanting voice."

you look down bashfully, thinking the same about her. she speaks like she's so sure of what she's saying like there's no room for debate or argument.

"thank you. no matter if i know or not, it doesn't take much to make me a little nervous every time i perform."

the bartender brings over both of your drinks and she tilts hers to you.

"trust me, theres no need. you're nothing but a natural, one of the best singers i've ever heard."

"ah, now you're exaggerating. is there a reason you're complimenting me like you're being paid to do so?"

she shakes her head, setting down her glass of liquor with a clink. "not anything nefarious, if that's what you're thinking. just glad i get to talk to a beautifully talented woman."

jeez, she was laying it on thick. normally this was coming from some fifty-year-old man with greasy skin and weird teeth, but it felt nice coming from her. she was obviously gorgeous, leaving her body language open in case you wanted to decline and she would walk away in a moment's notice.

"im glad i get to talk to you too, miss?"

"victoria. its a pleasure to talk to you, miss y/n."

for around an hour or two the both of you sat at that bar, blocking out the fake laughs of investors and boisterous noises of people who got a little too friendly with the free champagne. she was so attentive to you. asking about what got you into singing and what brought you to paris by your non-native accent. you normally kept the finer details of your past a close-guarded secret, but you figured there couldn't come any harm from telling this attractive stranger a few things about yourself before never seeing her again.

"you're telling me at only sixteen years old, you flew to paris by yourself and made a living for yourself? you've got balls on you, sister."

"yeah yeah, but im nothing special. i just got tired of all the bullshit in the u.s., y'know? the greed, the cynicism, the-"

"superhero bullshit?"

you giggled while she smirked, observing your smile and how it made your eyes squinch.

"well i wouldn't put it like that but...superheros? really? its just, they make it so american, in a really really annoying way. i just couldn't deal with that being a reality. and where better than paris? it seems like voughts all but forgotten about it recently, thank god.”

"i understand. and i know we just met, but it does suit you. 'beautiful runaway finds passion, life, and love in the city of lights'. best cliche there is."

"and what a damn good cliche it is to be. although i haven't been that lucky on the love front."

her eyebrow raises and her nail traces around the rim of her glass.

"im sorry but i simply cant believe that. someone like you would have people lining up for a chance to talk to you, let alone date you."

you dryly chuckle before taking another long swig of your glass of champagne, dancing just on the edge of being intoxicated. you understood why everyone else was drinking this, it was sweet but strong.

"people have tried, of course. but sadly most of my escapades end in tragedy. very melodramatically. but enough about me, I'm guessing this isn't gonna go my way and you have someone waiting for you at home?"

"im offended you still think so low of me. but no, there was someone but it didn't work out. now its just me and my daughter."

god, she was a milf. if there was a god you prayed he would let you get lucky tonight.

"well, im sorry to hear it didnt work out."

"are you really?"

she looks at you with a smirk on her face.

"no, im not."

that was all she needed to ask you to come back with her to her hotel.

and not just any hotel, she was rich enough to be spending two weeks in the damn ritz. asking again what she did for a living didn't get you very far, the only hint you got being that it helped her change the world. ominous but whatever. it had to be legitimate if she was invited to that gala.

the cautious and common sense side of you is snuffed out for the night the moment she set her hand over the covered skin of your thigh in the car, the feeling of her hand on your lower back leading you through the pristine lobby of the hotel, that same hand helping you take off your dress and take you apart slowly over the rest of the night.

when you wake up the sun is peeking through the curtains, the softness of the sheets your laying on calling you back to sleep before you get up and look around.

you only got a few seconds to admire the room last night before victoria was on you, and now in the light of day you could truly take everything in. you find a note left by the woman, letting you know she had to leave temporarily for an important job thing and that she'd be back my lunch, inviting you to call up room service and enjoy the room intil then.

you were expecting for her to tell you to pack your shit up and go, so despite the oddness this was a nice surprise. besides, there was no way you were gonna pass up on ordering a five-star breakfast you didnt have to pay for.

after indulging in a meal brought by room service and finding ways to pass the time, you text your manager after she happily lets you know that your night was a success and that your payment should be cleared shortly. while you're in the middle of wondering if you should answer her query about the host wondering where you wandered off to last night, the sound of a door opening makes your head jerk towards the small entry area, victoria coming in through the doorway dressed in a tan suit and carrying a large black briefcase on her arm.

"ah, youre still here!,” she sets her bag on a glass table near the door and strides into the room, eyes connected with yours the whole time. you weren’t feeling nervous before, but under her gaze you wonder if maybe you should have taken that free meal along with some tiny soaps from the bathroom and headed back home.

“yeah, figured i’d stick around for whatever. besides, i had to stay and blame you for my manager thinking i got kidnapped.”

“i’ll make sure to apologize and send her an edible arrangement. besides, i hope to take up more of your time in the future.”

your eyes bulge so hard you’re sure you look like a moron. you cover it up by getting up to get yourself another cup of coffe from the tray the food came in on.

“well i should’ve guessed this was more than a one night stand when you allowed me to order up breakfast. but now i have to admit i’m slightly scared you’re actually plotting to traffick me.”

"trust me, that wouldn't be good for business. id just like to see you some more, if that would be alright with you.

was that an actual question? after the night you had and the way she’s been treating you, you didn’t see much of a choice except to say yes.

she tells you that a few hours later she has a flight back to america, but that she wouldn't mind spending the day with you if you're free. you agree to get a little bite to eat and it turns into a whirlwind day of showing her around the city you call your home. she has to wear giant sunglasses the whole time and have a mysterious security detail not too far behind, but you wouldn't change anything about it.

at the end of it all, she bids you goodbye in front of your taxi, admiring the cute outfit she bought for you so you wouldn't have to go home in your dress from the night prior, promising that she'll keep in touch with you once she gets settled in back a new york, jokingly telling you she'll send you a postcard. as you sit in the back of the taxi, your heart inflates a little as you take in the events of the last day. you never liked to mix business with pleasure in this way, partly because most of those business people were gross perverts and also that it could damage your career beyond repair, but with victoria you can't help but think that it was worth it.

eventually, a few days pass by, and the only calls you've gotten are from friends congratulating on what they heard was another great performance. and as nice as all the praise and the new gigs you started to get felt, the longer you heard no word back from victoria, it started to eat away at you inside.

back at your favorite cafe you sit with two of your oldest friends, jamie and chloe, as they ramble about the details of their changing lives and jobs. you don't know when you zoned out but eventually, chloe's manicured finger lightly pokes at your cheek, giggling when you make a playful motion to bite it.

"where'd you go just now? take me with you before jamie keeps talking about his new lover."

"hey!" jamie pouts, "you're just jealous because i've been regularly having passionate sex allll night long while you're still vying over your boss." you hear a shocked gasp behind him and you all turn to see an elderly couple looking at jamie like he's said the most blasphemous thing they've ever heard.

"really classy, james." you snort.

"what the hell! you're supposed to be on my side! everyone has noticed how you've been in a better mood since that gala. alex told us how they checked up on you afterwise and you showed up a day later with a new outfit and a hickey on your neck."

"that is- god, that’s so intrusive and so like them,” you rolled your eyes. you knew as soon as alex saw you that morning that they’d be gossiping to everyone about the state they saw you in. “and i don’t kiss and tell like that. at least not in public like this.”

“ok, so we’ll stop by your place tonight with some wine and talk all about it tonight. agree?”

“what? no-”

“agree!” chloe beams and shakes hands with jamie across the table, blowing you kisses before leaving her share of the bill on the table and leaving with some excuse of having to be somewhere. you glare at jamie as a warning before he gives you a kiss on the cheek and does the same. you grumble before biting into your muffin.

a few hours later you’re sitting on your soft sofa with jamie’s head in your lap and chloe on the other side, talking and laughing about old stories from your jobs. you take a sip of merlot right before jamie brings up what you were hoping they’d forgotten about by now.

“ok ok, enough chatter. seriously, chlo, you cackle like a seagull. y/n, when are you going to tell us about this mystery lover of yours? do you need another glass of wine to start talking?”

“don’t even think about pouring me another glass. look, there’s not much to say, ok? i was singing, she was staring at me from across the bar, we flirted a little, that was it!”

they stared.

“you want more?”

“how could we not? we haven’t seen you like this with anyone! not since we took you on that tourist tour on the seine!”

that…that took you for a spin. you remembered it clear as day, them tugging you along when they’d heard since you came to paris you’d been focusing on building up your image and working. it was more a joke, but the lights of the boat, the sky and the lights made you feel like you were in the most perfect moment of your life. hearing them compare that to how you looked now had a nervous feeling building in your gut.

“we spent the night together. and it was…good. really good. she let me stay while she went out, bought me a new outfit then said she’d be in touch.”

your friends are silent. way too silent. you’re afraid they’re about to laugh and judge you before they’re squealing and tackling you, pulling back when you groan after you almost spill your wine on your clothes.

"god, why are you always the lucky one? this isn't fair! at all!" chloe groans while dramatically resting her head on your shoulder, jamie still giggling as the wine clearly starts to take an effect on him. "please, please tell us what happens next before i scream."

"no thats- i mean, thats it. so far. for now." you stutter along your words as your friends' faces go blank yet again, except this time without a hint of a chuckle or smile.

"what the hell do you mean 'that's it.'? she ghosted you?" jamie gasps.

"no, she didnt ghost me-"

"sweetheart, im sorry to say this but you have been ghosted. in a really dickhead way."

"its not like that! she's a busy person with a serious job and a kid and responsibilities!"

you briefly hear chloe snicker "milf?" before you roll your eyes.

"she's gonna contact me. and even if she doesn't, maybe it was just a nice one-time thing! everyone knows I'm great at those."

jamie snickers before chloe smacks his shoulder in a second.

"why? why did you laugh?"

they share a look before she smacks his shoulder again.

"would you stop? i have pains, you know this. but y/n, we know you. we love you. but your latest stints haven't been...the most successful. or left you in the best headspaces."

"he's right, honey. remember the last girl, hannah? one of the worst situationships i've ever seen. you told us you would be alright when she broke it off and then we found you at that lousy bar at eleven in the morning..."

you start biting at your lip. there was nothing you hated more than when they told you the truth about how you could act. it wasn't your fault that all the time your relationships got messy, or that you got attached a little quickly. people didn't understand but a life like yours could be lonely. standing up on a stage and performing for people who want you to do just that and only that: sing and look like a glamourous pin-up doll. most of the time its the other performers who even bother to ask if your throat is alright after singing for hours.

so yes, sometimes you rushed into relationships. and you might have done it again in the dumbest way possible.

"i just...she let me stay after, y'know? and she came back and brought me with her again. why go through that effort just to leave me behind like trash?" your friends pouted before closing in to comfort you, rubbing your back and giving you small affirmations.

for a month you go into a rut. unless it's performing or going to the dentist for a checkup you don't leave your house. you become pretty good acquaintances with the grocery delivery boy, benny, who started panicking when he realized he forgot one of your items until you assured him it was fine. it wasn't the first time you'd grown so oddly attached to a romantic prospect, and it wasn't the first time you'd gotten hurt by it. you spend your time moping on your couch and binge-watching your favorite show for the third time when your phone buzzes from beside you.

nancy schmancy : call me.

you rolled your eyes. she could have just called you in the first place, but no. she had to be extra about it. you press the call button and don't have to wait even five seconds for her voice to ring in your ear.

"do you want to know what mister barbier just emailed me?"

"i think you already have that answer for me."

"he said, and i quote, 'tell y/n i send my best wishes. her performance last night was hauntingly beautiful, and i'm hoping it was one of her greatest acts yet.'"

"if you ask me, it sounds like i did a pretty good job."

"it sounds like he thought you were singing your damn suicide note!" she groaned, and you could hear her face scrunching from over the phone. "i don't know what is going on with you recently, and i don't want to sound insensitive, but if you can't manage to keep your work and personal life separate, even i can't help you make it far in this business. clients may say they want you to be expressive but they only mean so far. unhappy music means unhappy customers, capeche?"

"i understand, nancy. ill send a personal apology to mister barbier."

"good. ill call you soon to let you know about any new gigs. take care of yourself. seriously."

the line clicks and you toss your phone onto the couch and take another sip of sauvignon blanc from your rose-shaped wine glass. it pained you to admit it, but nancy had a point. if you kept letting yourself mope in your feelings you'd run out of people who wanted you to sing, and if the point came where you were out of gigs...you didn't even want to think about it. if you weren't singing you weren't living.

only a few hours after that call you manage to get back to normal. you go out and get your own groceries, deciding to indulge yourself and buy the ingredients for some recipe you saw online months ago. one of your clients cries at your performance, ecstatically telling you they'll be in talks with your manager to set up a stable contract. things really start to look up. two weeks later you even manage to get the number of a cute girl, elise, a tall woman with dyed hair who reached for the same vintage music box as you at an open market.

you're smiling as you look down at the messy ink on a slip of paper, the numbers and tiny smily face distracting you as you enter the hallway to your apartment. so distracted that you nearly trip over a object on the floor, looking down to see...a bouquet?

a really gorgeous bouquet you notice as you bend over to pick it up. its a collage of dusty blues and off-colored ivories, and when you brought it closer to your nose for a whiff you felt a sense of bliss. you bring it into your apartment with a skip in your step before you spot a piece of paper among the flowers, plucking it from the collection and reading it over.

upon closer inspection, you can see its a postcard, the cover a flattering shot of the statue of liberty with text that reads "love from new york city!". you try to calm your heart down at the location and the 'love' part, but you've already gotten your hopes up when you turn the card around to read the message:

xxx-xxx-xxxx

sorry for the wait. i'll make it up to you, angel.

you'd never felt so conflicted as you did in the past five seconds. half of you was vindicated that yes, this attractive woman didnt leave you high and dry and did actually have a deeper interest in you, but the other part was angry. and embarrassed that you were angry, because again, you spent less than a day with this woman, she didn't owe you anything. but also yes the hell she did.

before you could get yourself together you were harshly tapping the number into your cell, biting at your lip as the phone slowly rings.

"y/n, is that you?" echoes from the line, victorias voice sounding and running over your head like soft silk. no, no, stop it. focus.

"howd you know it was me? im sure you have other people who'd be calling you this late."

"certainly not anyone with a phone number from paris. besides, i was hoping it'd be you."

"well, i would have been flattered two weeks ago but unfortunately i dont think your words could phase me right now."

she sighs and the line goes silent. you feel bad for being catty for a few seconds before you brush it off. she's the one who played with your emotions and promised to call you but never did. she had this coming.

"im sorry, really i am. i've been busy with things at work and my daughter-"

damn it, she pulled the kid card again.

"i just...dont like being lied to. or led on. maybe its my fault for beeing too clingy-"

"no, no. dont apologize. if it means anything youve been on my mind for weeks now."

"yeah, same here. except my thoughts havent been all that nice." you laugh.

"deserved. and id like to make it up to you."

"oh yeah? let me guess, this time we'll spend two nights together?"

"close. how about two weeks. in new york."

you don't know if you should laugh. you feel like you should, so you do. but she isn't.

"you...you're being serious."

"im being serious."

what do you even say? what do you even do? of course, whatever higher power there is would make your life stable and steady for the past few months then throw this in to shake you up. you really should have been expecting it, considering...

you shake yourself back to the present. victoria is still waiting on the other line, unwilling to rush you into a decision, apparently. you'd applaud her for her chivalry if you weren't so stunned.

"victoria, come on. we've only met once, and while it was nice it was brief. now you want me to upend my life and career to jet off to america? it sounds crazy."

"you make me a bit crazy, honestly. besides, you were telling me in bed you haven't been in the states since you left, i have a feeling you miss it more than you let on."

you shuffle in your spot, reminded that you're standing in your cold-ass kitchen and you haven't changed out of the outfit you wore out today. but half of your uncomfortableness is from a feeling gnawing at your chest because she's right. at this point you can barely remember the night you left your childhood home, but you know it was rushed. you wanted to forget everything.

"i think you're also forgetting that i have a blossoming career here. are you gonna pay my definitely going to be pissed off manager her wages? plus i was supposed to be first pick for this really good gig-"

"i'll pay for everything, i promise. dont forget that i have connections. in two weeks they''ll be singing you praises across the globe."

you close your eyes and take in a breath.

"can you make my ticket first class?"

-

one thing you didnt miss about america? just how...much everything was, all the time.

your flight was quiet. victoria didnt hesitate to book you an expensive ticket, almost taking offense to your request for a nice one and scheduling you for business class, sending you a text to get lots of rest in the ultra-luxe beds on the plane. it was probably one of the best nights sleeps you'd had in months.

when you got off the plane there were two tall escorts holding a sign with your last name on it, taking the suitcases from your hands before you could say anything and leading you into a sleek black car. a voice in the back of your head starts screaming but you ignore it. for now.

the men in the car give you some basic rundowns, how they'll constantly be hovering over you during your stay for your "protection", and that they'll be taking you to settle into a hotel until victoria makes contact, and the little voice starts freaking out again and telling you that you've slept with and are fraternizing with a mob boss. at least it's more exciting than your last few flings.

the car goes silent after that, and you put in your earbuds as you watch the city go by. you weren't from new york, but you loved watching movies set in the bustling cityscape. the buildings really are humongous, and you see so many different types of people it sets your brain on a whirlwind.

you look back down at your phone after the fifth 'the seven' advertisement in one block.

yet again you're led into a clearly extremely expensive hotel, breezing through reception before you are led to a luxuriant hotel room, the bodyguards ignoring you as you giggle and flop onto the bed, waving them off when they tell you they'll be posted outside.

the sheets feel heavenly on your skin, and with the soft sunshine from the window beaming down on you and the gentle hustle and bustle of new york outside, you think you could fall asleep in a minute. but, begrudgingly, you peel yourself form the bed and open your suitcase to start putting your clothes away before taking a quick shower in the giant bathtub.

just as you exit the shower and wrap your body in a towel, your phone starts ringing and as soon as you read the 'v' in the contact name you push answer and bring it to your ear.

"hello? vic?"

"hey, hon. eager to talk to me?"

"you called me. and 'hon'? really? we've moved to petnames already?"

"figured id start making up for those weeks with no contact. and id like to do so again tonight. i wanna bring you somewhere."

your mouth quirks up in a smile as you re-adjust the towel around your body, the phone nearly slipping from its quick placement between your phone and ear, "id really like that. i hope its out to dinner, i didnt care to eat any of the plane food."

“yes, it’s to dinner. but its up to you if you want it to be fancy or casual. i know its tacky but there’s this pretty cute french place near where i live...”

“that vaguely sounds like an invitation to your place, but ill let it slide. are you gonna pick me up or are your special agents going to escort me everywhere for the next few weeks?”

“special agents? what agents?”

a bead of water drips from your neck down your back and it feels like the tip of a knife. a pressure builds in the back of your throat and your fingers grip the fabric of your towel. “what…that’s a joke, right?”

her laughter rings in your ear and you are seconds away from hanging up the call.

“sorry, sorry. i sometimes have a weird sense of humor. you'll get used to it.”

“i doubt it.”

“and i'm hopeful. i'll let you go so you can get ready, i'll be by in under an hour.”

you hang up after a sweet goodbye and gently sit on the toilet. your brain is rushing to catch up after the conversation like your body goes on autopilot when you hear victoria's voice. its terrifying and its thrilling. and you don't know why a part of you likes the feeling.

after you brush your teeth, do some quick skincare, debate over shaving just in case, and spend twenty minutes picking out a cute outfit, you finally hear the gentle knocking on the door while you're double-checking over the content of your purse.

rushing to open the door, you're greeted with the sight of a smiling victoria, her hands tucked into the pants of her clearly expensive pinstriped pantsuit. you're admiring the look of her hair tucked back into a ponytail when she's reaching forward and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"you look perfect. come on, i made us a reservation."

and it turned out to be a perfect night. she did end up taking you to the french place, allowing you to order whatever you wanted. that place was weirdly empty, only a handful of other patrons inside. you were pleased to see that the waitress was french herself, having a small chat about the customs and foods she missed while she praised the authenticity of the food at the restaurant.

only a day and you had already forgotten how forward the people back home could be, because the waitress throws a subtle look at victoria and compliments you on finding such an attractive woman. when she leaves vic just smiles.

“ok, id say at this point we’re doing pretty good with the communication thing, right?” you ask, taking a sip of the pricey wine your date ordered.

“yeah, id say that.”

you finger the rim of your glass, the nerves getting to you before you ask your question. "i want you to tell me what your job is. your actual job, not some vague ass title. you have security following gus around, so i feel like i should know."

"no, no, you're right. i just didnt wanna scare you off. or have you think differently of me once i told you." she sighs, thumbing the napkins on the table. "i work in the government. i'm a congresswoman, to be exact."

you don't doubt she's a politician for a second, because she shows no hint of nervousness at your lack of emotion.

"are you...a good congresswoman?"

"i don't really know how to answer that." she laughs.

"i'm sorry. i knew you were important enough to be at that gala, but a politician is...tricky."

she reaches across the table and lays her hand palm up, smiling when you rest yours on top of it. "look, i get it. i should have told you sooner but please understand why i didn't. i wanted to get to know you as normally as possible, without all of the press and politics in the way."

"normally as possible, huh? that includes sleeping together on the first night?"

you're trying to show your acceptance of the situation with your humor, but you can tell victoria can sense your uneasiness at the situation. here you were thinking you had found some under-the-radar millionaire to dote on you and instead, you'd roped in someone whose job was entirely in the public eye that could be put in danger at the flip of a switch.

"how about we finish up and take this back to my place? i'll tell you everything that you wanna know about me. no matter how personal."

you stare into her eyes for a few seconds and decide that she looks genuine, getting confirmation that her daughter is staying with a friend before ending your meal and following her to her place.

for the amount of money she's ready to spend on you, you're surprised to see that victoria lives in a chic but quaint townhome only a twenty-minute walk from the restaurant. she gently takes off your coat and instructs you to sit with her on the couch, pressing on a remote to turn on her fireplace.

after a few hours and two more glasses of wine, victoria had opened up to you about nearly everything in her life. the mysterious death of her birth family, being adopted by a man who helped pushed her to go into a political career, her polite but loveless marriage with her ex. she even shows you a picture of zoe that she has in her wallet, taking the chance to gush over her daughter. she seems like such a sweet girl.

maybe it's the wine or maybe it's the way vic is opening up to you so freely, but you decide to tell her more about your past. how you always wondered why you barely stuggled moving to another continent at such a young age, or the fact that you dont even remeber why you had the drive to leave your parents home in the first place. you didnt even remember the last words you said to each other.

and throughout it all she's nothing if not attentive, she doesnt ask questions unless you give her permission too, keeping her eyes on you and gently placing her hand over yours.

you feel a turning in your stomach when she moves a stray hand of hair behind your ear. you told yourself to try taking things slow this time, but your body is starting to feel fuzzy and shes looking at you like she wants to devour you.

she decides to indulge you and gently brushes her lips against yours, smiling at the way your breath staggers. your head moves forwards to finaly get her to kiss you but she jerks her head back.

"i want you to tell me what to do."

god, your stomach feels hot. this is new, but a really arousing style of new. the last time you both slept together she had taken a careful but unwavering charge, unraveling you with a steady hand a sweet smile.

"cmon just...please?"

"no. tell me what you want me to do."

you sigh and bite at your lip. "i want you to lay me down and fuck me. right now."

so she laid you down and she did. there were no words to describe how much you enjoyed that night on her couch, the way she could read your body like a book and brought you to ecstasy again and again and again...

and when you wake up a soft blanket is draped over your body, a brekfast of coffee and some crepes set in front of you.

the days after are a whirlwind. discreetly as possible victoria takes you on a tour of new york city, to more expensive restaurants and hidden jewels that most tourists skipped over.

youre lounging in your hotel room when you decide to inform your friends of how your trip is going. while slightly hesitant they seemed more than happy that you were enjoying yourself with someone who took a genuine interest in you.

until you told them her job.

"my love, are you insane? a politician?"

"an american politician?" chloe gasps, continuing off of jamies shock.

"hey, im american too dont forget!"

"of course you are, but please, you understand why this is not good, no?"

"you know how fishy they are, especially with all the supe business going on. that place is getting more dangerous by the day, and i dont think you should be seeing someone whos contirbuting to that."

it pained you to admit it but jamie had a point. the three of you would always laugh in amused horror at how badly things were going on in your birth country, and the politics...it was less than pleasant.

not to mention the supe business. every corner of the world had to deal with the annoyance that was vought and their "products", even france. but so far you'd just had to deal with a few perverted looks from traveling supers and talks of some stupid theme park a few miles out of the city. meanwhile, it seemed like every day a new superhero was being introduced to the American public. it unnerved you.

"i understand. i appreciate both of you looking out for me. trust me, i'll be on my guard for now on." you mumble, picking at the material of your sleeve.

"of course, songbird. we'll call again soon."

the call ends and drop your phone on the nightstand. you look at the eiffel tower cutout in your phone case and your heart aches.

the next morning you're eating a a breakfast of coffee and fruit crepes when your phone rings, dragging your atttention away from the trashy dating show you were watching on the bedroom's tv. when you see nancy's name you hesitantly answer the call.

"nance? is everything alright?"

"everything is great. i'm just here to check in about your next gig."

"my next- nance, im on vacation. please tell you didnt forget and booked me for a job when im across the ocean."

"no, im not that stupid, hon." she sighs. "i didnt even arrange this job, victoria did. im just the messenger."

you blink once. then twice. you remember vic saying something about helping you with a job but you honestly just thought that was bullshit to get her to come stay with you.

(or get in your pants. but you don’t think you’d be too upset about that now.)

“ok. thank you, nancy. tell me the details.”

it’s a lot more extravagant than you expected. victorias friend, an actual senator, was holding a fundraising event for some government program he and vic were both involved in. nancy wasn’t told what the program was, but that you would have to go through a security debrief before being told you'd be given a team to help you prepare. and picking from a selected closet of dresses. fun.

you ignore the feeling of nervousness that’s building up in your gut. because while all of your gigs were important, they were never this important. you push it down as you call victoria and thank her endlessly, when you tell your friends the minimum amount that you can tell them, and when victoria picks you up from outside your hotel twelve hours before the event even starts.

she pressed a small kiss to your hand, laughing at the grumpy and tired mumble you let out when you sit in the car seat. it only passes once she gives you a coffee she picked up, the caffeine waking you up and putting a smile on your face.

the content feeling turns into shock when you enter victorias' place and see zoe, vic throwing a short explanation of “busy babysitter” over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

its a bit awkward at first, sitting on one couch as she plays on a black nintendo switch on the other. it helps when you ask her about whatever she’s playing, the girl diving into a rant about the farm game she’s playing and how she’s trying to catch a certain type of fish.

victoria comes back with a tray of breakfast for the three of you before asking her daughter how school is going, how her friends are, etc. its nice to get a glimpse into victories private life during the morning, the close bond she has with her daughter. you notice some tension but decide not to bring it up.

the morning goes by too quickly, zoe being picked up to be dropped off at a friend's house after giving you a sweet goodbye and you getting rushed upstairs as the team comes to the townhome to help you prepare. its a nice change, having other people doll you up instead of having to worry about trying to do everything correctly and by yourself. and its a perk you don't have to spend your own money to do it.

the team members are nice but punctual, finishing your hair and makeup in record time with not a second wasted. you barely get time to notice yourself in the mirror before you're ushered into a gorgeous gown, soft fabrics and a chic and elegant style.

when your finished you’re finally allowed to observe yourself while your transportation and is prepared, and it feels like you’re looking at a dream version of yourself.

as you admire yourself in the mirror vic comes up next to you, clearly enjoying herself as her eyes slowly drift up and down your body.

“you look…ethereal.” she whispers, pressing a small kiss to your cheek after you turn to smile at her.

“only because of you. i don’t know how i could ever make this up to you, vic. this is just…”

“trust me, you’ve already done enough.”

while you knew there would be some press at the event, you didn't expect over two dozen paparazzi to quickly start flashing their cameras in your direction as soon as you got out of your ride. questions about who you were wearing, the relationship you had with vic, etcetera etcetera. you would've buckled from the sudden pressure if it weren't for victoria’s steady hand on your waist, the press of her arm through her red pantsuit.

the venue is downright insane, so grand you start to wonder if you're in one of those gilded age mansions you used to read about in new york magazines. climbing pillars and art on the ceiling of the main hall, which you don't get to admire since you’re yet again whisked away to get ready.

after a few more touch ups you aren’t afforded a minute to prepare, guided to the edge of the performance area. the sinking feeling is back in your stomach. the biggest moment of your life and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

the lights dim and you glide onto the stage, able to see the shadows of the guests faces from the flickering table lights. it’s eerie, the amount of them staring up at you with eyes you can’t even see.

you were given a set list a few days prior, only a couple of songs for the payment you would apparently receive after this. the songs piqued your interest, a collection of classical melancholic pieces from around the fifties. vic told you her friend was a vintage nut, but you didn't know why he chose these for you to perform when the event seemed to have an uplifting aura.

either way it felt…different, singing this time. the spotlight was on you and you’ve never felt as beautiful as you did in this moment. everyone was watching you, so hooked on the melodies escaping your body that you could see the emotions brining some people to the edge of their seats.

you don’t let it show but you grow a bit anxious at the sight of supers in their uniforms in the crowd. you don’t see anyone from the seven, but you do notice a woman you recognized from some commercial about climate change and earth preservation, the green of her dress and the nature motifs in her outfit give you a clue as to what her power was.

just when you feel yourself about to slip, dangerously close to hitting a note at a weird pitch, you see victoria, getting deja vu at the sight of her staring at you from the bar like the first night you met. she's looking at you like she's never doubted you for a second, like you're an angel sent from above that's blessed her life.

you hold her gaze when you sing. noticing the soft smile on her face when you sing a lyric about how the feelings in your heart feel so intense you fear you're going insane.

when the first song ends the lights come back on and you're met with a polite yet thunderous applause, the smile on your face so wide your cheeks start to hurt. the presenter comes back on stage, praising your performance with a swipe at his eyes before telling the guests that the host would be on shortly, and after he gives a short speech you'd be back to sing some more. with a gentle nod and wave, you step off the stage.

you feel like you're walking on air, with no doubt that was one of your best performances yet. your emotions got a little intense there but nothing you couldn't manage, and everyone seemed to like it anyway.

you're able to send a quick text and a picture to jamie and chloe before you hear the sound of the door to your quaint dressing room open, not able to turn around before you feel hands around your waist and plush lips on the side of your neck, the sight of victoria wrapped around you in the mirror making butterflies swarm in your stomach.

"i take it you liked my singing?"

"like doesn't even begin to cover it," she mumbles into your neck, raising her head slightly to be able to hold eye contact through the mirror. "i'm so lucky i found you, y'know that?"

you playfully brush her off, telling her you have to freshen up for some mingling before you get back on stage. she gladly helps you with your makeup, and while you weren't expecting her to be so touchy tonight you definitely aren't complaining, especially when her hand starts to drift closer to the space between your legs. it takes an embarrassing amount of mental strength to deny her, promising you'll continue once you go back to her place.

once you're finished getting ready she leads you back out to the hall, introducing you to numerous business people, politicians, celebrities, etc. you try not to fangirl when you meet a singer whose songs you've been obsessed with lately and when she asks you to perform at her cousins wedding. victoria just smirks when she leads you away and you let out a tiny squeal under your breath.

once the networking is done you're able to take the time to sit down and eat some of the catered food, almost moaning at the tastes of the food. you sometimes forget just how good food could be in the states, and these rich people pulled out all the stops. you try not to eat too quickly or impolitely as victoria talks with her tablemates, some people from her job apparently. after the first introductions and praises they gave you you mentally tapped out of the situation. she luckily covers for you when they question your mood, laughing when she tells them you've had a long day of being treated like a singing barbie doll.

everyone in the room quiets down when the hos taakes the stage and starts his speech. he introduces himself as robert stendham, and you feel a little embarrassed that this man gave you the chance to sing here and you didn't even know his name. you're thinking about how odd it is that you weren't introduced before this when he mentions something about the program and you perk up.

"...extend a personal thank you to general jameson for finding the time to escape his duties to fly in and be here with us tonight, and a special thanks to director neuman for helping me with this project and finding the beautifully talented y/n to perform for us tonight."

there was a brief few seconds of applause, victoria looking around and giving out smiles while you wondered what the hell she was the director of.

"as you can see, we have a few supers with us tonight. people like hazelwood, whose efforts against climate change have lead to over a dozen organizations plating millions of trees and clearing millions of pounds of trash for the ocean. because that's what supers are supposed to do-protect us. not act like degenerates who get to do what they want because of their abilities."

your eyebrow twitches, sensing the slight anti-supe propaganda from the end of his speech. well, not anti every supe, just the ones who act like gods among men, which you could understand. but you still felt an uneasy feeling rising in your stomach. you feel vic's palm rest over the top of your hand under the table.

"which is why im incredibly honored that director and congresswoman neuman has extended a hand to me to invest in the federal bureau of superhuman affairs, and to further extend that hand to you to help participate in this monumental institution..."

everything is a fog and your brain taps out once he starts talking about what this burerua does, how they closely monitor supes and jail the ones who've caused public harm. your head feels hot and your chest feels cold, and you can't stop your body from going on auto-pilot and excusing yourself to the bathroom before finding some balcony on the higher floor.

the cold air of new york shocks your body back into normalcy, but the pounding in your head persists. it feels like a panic attack ut so much worse, like your fight or flight has been activated without anything even happening. had you rushed into all of this? chasing a girl and a dream like you were a teenager again?

yet again the door opens behind you and someone comes to stand next to you, able to tell who it is by the scent of brown sugar and the glimpse of dark hair blowing with the slight breeze.

"you alright? mr. brandon from the tech startup was asking about you, tried to make me invest in some room light plant grower hybrid-"

"why did you bring me here?"

you cut her off and the air is quiet, save for the sounds of cars and the city and the wind. it's weird, standing in a tense silence like this with her.

"how are you feeling?" she whispers .

"are you- " you turn, nearly giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which you turn to look at her. the look on her face, like she's just observing you and how you're reacting. it only upsets you more. "are you being serious?"

"yes, i am. tell me."

"no, answer my question first. why are you avoiding it?"

she sighs, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching to grab your hand, which you hesitantly let her hold.

"as you heard, im part of a buereau that monitors supherhumans, keeping track of them, making sure they cant use their powers for harm. so far we've only had to deal with supes here in the states. until one day, this couple comes in that believe their daughter has used her powers on them."

she reaches for something in her pocket and your grip tightens. she pulls out a polaroid and holds the picture up for you to see. you feel like you're going to vomit when you see you, smiling, standing with your parents in a backyard.

"what...what is this? how'd you get this?"

"the couple gave me this picture, and told me how weird the least few years have been. friends and family asking where their daughter went, how she was doing, a daughter they didnt even remeber having."

you bring a hand up to your head, hopelessly trying to dissipate the splitting headache that's forming.

"but then they said the memories started coming back. glimpses of a child running in the grass, birthday parties, graduations, talent shows-"

"stop, please just stop." you gasp, hunching over as good as you can with the restrictions of your gown. it doesn't even feel like the world is just spinning, it feels like its being played in some celestial game of pool. "so what, you're saying...you're saying i did that? to my parents?"

"yes," she reaches for the side of your face, guiding you to look up at her. "and you can do so much more. you already have."

this can't be happening.

"why do you think people react so emotionally to your singing? you think its just because you're amazing? that's not even half of it."

your breathing is picking up again.

flashes of memories start appearing in your vision. so many happy times with your parents that you forgot, friends that you left behind. how your parents didn't support your half-thought-out plan to become a singer, how you made them forget. made yourself forget.

"i don't want you to think i did all of this just for what i want. i didn't. i care about you, and i want you to help me. but you need to trust me."

the blood is rushing back and from your head, and you think about how weird her eyes look against the backdrop of the city before you pass out.

finally. FINALLY. ong i wrote like 1k in the past day because i said just get this shit over with but its done! 5 months later! hope you enjoyed :)

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, jealousy, angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you to everyone that read part 1!! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying it so far! I really would've liked to let this part simmer a little longer but I'm holding myself to this publishing schedule. It's time to yeet this into the world. I'd love to know what you think. Your comments and reblogs give me so much joy!

Thank you @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thank you @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me bitch about this and supporting me always.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aunt Margot says. 

You’re putting the finishing touches on your make up in the Page’s office. Usually you’d go back upstairs but you don’t feel like hearing it from Ezra.  

“Thanks. I have a date,” you say, packing your mascara in your purse. 

“Oh,” she replies, not hiding her disappointment in the slightest. 

You hadn’t intended to see Connor again but when he texted you, you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. He invited you to his place to check out his vinyl collection which sounds like an insufferable version of Netflix and Chill but you have no plans to listen to a single record. You just want to fuck in his bed and avoid any drama with Ezra. 

“Well I hope you’ll put as much effort in for the equinox,” she says. She flips the sign in the door from open to closed then snaps her fingers to turn off the overhead lights. 

You and Margot host the coven for the equinox each year which already means extra preparations in addition to work at the bookshop. 

“Why would I do that?” you ask. You don’t wear make up for moon rituals, don’t wear much of anything at all. 

“Esme is bringing River,” she says with a casual shrug. 

“No” you groan. 

“He’s visiting from Ireland,” she tells you. 

The last time you saw Esme’s grandson you were both in high school. River was built like a string bean, his upper lip dusted with the saddest mustache— if you could even call it that. He reeked of some badly brewed potion that was supposed to attract lovers. You still gagged when you smelled licorice root. 

“Good for him,” you say. “Please do not set me up with River.”

“I’m not a matchmaker, dear. I’m just trying to expand your sexual horizons,” Margot replies. 

Suddenly, Connor’s vinyls don’t sound so bad after all. 

—

Ezra pads through crystals and altar bells. Everything’s been laid out on Aunt Margot’s paisley scarves— scrying bowls and athame blades and jars of rain water all waiting to be charged by the moon of the autumn equinox. 

It’s just after midnight and the witches of your coven are gathered in a small clearing far enough into the woods that stray mortals won’t stumble upon them. The air smells fresh and cold like mountain spring water. A bonfire crackles, layered with herbs and pine needles. 

The waning moon feels heavy and close like it might just fall out of the sky and nick Ezra’s ear. It makes him feel uneasy. Then again, it’s hard to enjoy these rituals when he can’t participate the way he once did. 

Ezra watches you offer mulled wine to Esme and River, steaming cups scented with cinnamon balanced on an antique silver tray. You look beautiful in your simple white dress. It glows in the moonlight and he can see your body silhouetted beneath the fabric of its long skirt by the fire. 

He’s never cared much for Esme but, then again, he doesn’t have many kind words for any of the Elders even if the ones that cursed him are long dead. Even if he deserved that curse. She wears her long hair coiled on top of her head, a jade hair pin perched in its nest the same way her familiar, a tired old owl, watches from the branch of one of the trees. 

Ezra’s attention isn’t with Esme tonight. He’s keeping a close eye on her grandson. 

“He totally sucks. Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you’d implored. 

Ezra would be wary of him whether or not you’d asked. River is nothing like how you’ve remembered him to Ezra. He must’ve done a lot of growing up since your last encounter. Tall and lean with thick waves of auburn hair. He’s the kind of witch that even Ezra would have taken to bed when he was human. 

He sees the way River looks at you, watches him turn the charm on as he smiles. River’s eyes travel down your body and Ezra knows exactly what he sees. Waves of hot jealousy consume Ezra from nose to tail. For a moment, he worries he’ll get another thousand years added on to his sentence. 

After some small talk, Esme wanders away and that's Ezra’s cue. He slinks up between you and River, rubbing up against your legs to let you know he’s ready to bail you out. 

River swallows his drink with a chuckle. 

“That tastes just how I remember it. Me and Moss used to sneak glasses of Ariadne’s mulled wine when we were thirteen,” he explains. 

“Me too. Although I’m pretty sure Margot knew,” you say with a laugh. 

“Little mage, you asked me to fetch you when the oils were ready,” Ezra says. 

“Oh,” you say, throwing a self conscious smile at River. “I’ll go in a minute, Ez.”

“Margot could use your assistance,” Ezra adds. 

“Why don’t you go help her and I’ll be there soon,” you suggest.

Ezra can’t help but glare up at River. 

“Would that I had opposable thumbs,” he responds. 

You laugh. River doesn’t. You crouch down and glide your hand down Ezra’s spine.

“It’s okay, Ez. I’m good,” you tell him and you wink at him.

His blood turns molten as you turn back to River and continue your conversation. He wants to hiss and claw at him, draw blood. It feels like you’re slipping through his fingers not that he ever held a claim. Not that he even has fingers anymore. He’s completely powerless, standing at your feet like the dumb animal he is.

Rather than watch you moony over River, Ezra turns away and slinks off to the edge of the gathering to sulk. The fire’s warmth doesn’t quite reach and he presses back his ears to stave off autumn’s chill. He can’t run off into the woods the way he’d like to, not without raising questions from the other witches, make you look like you can’t control your familiar.

He can’t stop his eyes from wandering back to you. Your head thrown back in laughter, your hand on River’s forearm. Each moment of your joy is like a knife in his heart.

Ezra’s eventually relegated to the circle where the familiars commiserate. River’s is a jet black bird named Rhea who turns her beak up at him. He’s not one of them, not really. He was human himself with a familiar of his own but that’s not the only reason why they scorn him. They all know that he’s the worst kind of witch. 

There are many reasons why a witch might be turned into a cat but there’s only one crime that was punished with 1000 years— murder. And not just any murder. Ezra desecrated the life of another witch and, no matter how loyally he serves you, he’ll always have that stain. 

The rituals are done, the chanting. The embers from the fire float up through the trees towards the fat moon. Then the dancing begins. It’s erratic and joyful, Ezra can remember the ecstasy of it in his bones. Esme lets down her white hair and one by one the witches disrobe. 

He hears your laughter as you spin, shoulders shrugging with the pulse of the magic that swirls around the bonfire. 

He knows he shouldn’t look at you like that. Not you. Not here. You’re not putting on a show, you’re doing your magic. But the way your body moves against the glow of the fire is its own enchantment. He could worship you like the moon. 

The spell is broken just as quickly. River’s right beside you, bare skin radiant, muscles rippling with his own rhythm. His fingers tangle with yours and Ezra feels acid in his throat. 

The whole night becomes an assault on his senses. The sound of chanting rises, the old words frantic and savage. Amber and patchouli mix with the woodsmoke to choke him. Grotesque shadows fall over the faces of the witches like a carnival of horrors. And then there’s you— incandescent and naked and whispering something in River’s ear that has him grinning. Ezra’s hair stands on end.

“Come dance with me!” you giggle as you leave the circle of merriment. Your teeth are stained purple, drunk on wine and magic. 

“I’m quite content here,” Ezra lies. 

“Are you having fun?” You ask but you don’t wait for his answer. “River is…wow. He did not look like that when we were kids.”

You pick Ezra up and whirl around in a circle. He smells the incense of your skin, the alcohol on your breath. 

“You’re going to get your wish. I’m finally going to fuck a proper witch!” you say. 

You toss Ezra in the air and catch him. The bile has come so far up his throat it’s an absolutely nauseating sensation. 

“Enough!” Ezra hisses. He swats at you with his claws bared. 

You yelp and drop him. Before he even hits the ground, he feels it— a searing hot pain that makes his back arch. You’re defending yourself with your powers like a reflex. He lets out a yowl and just as quickly it passes.

Ezra staggers and looks up to find you with tears in your eyes. He’s never seen you looking so hurt, betrayed. Your jaw quivers. Ezra landed on his feet but he feels upside down. He’s realizing what he’s just done, that he tried to hurt you because he’s pathetic. Jealous. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice strangled. 

Like a coward, he takes off, ignoring you as you call after him. 

—

It’s the sound of the cat flap that wakes you sometime after sunrise. You’re sprawled out on your bed, head aching, eyes swollen. You’re still wearing your white dress, you threw it on before going after Ezra but it was no use. He was as black as the shadows in the forest and had slipped away under some bushes.

You abandoned the equinox celebration and went home in hopes he’d be there. You waited. Alone with your guilt and anxiety. 

I’m sorry. Please come home. You were never very good at telepathy but you tried to reach out to him with your thoughts. 

The sound that he made echoed through your mind as you paced the floor. Strangled, terrified. You tried to stop yourself from picturing him out there in the dark shaking with pain. 

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was involuntary. As soon as his claw grazed your skin, your powers flared. Maybe if you hadn’t been drunk you could’ve controlled it. It happened so quickly you still can’t be sure of how strong it hit him. 

Even if it was just a momentary shock, you saw just how much damage that moment did. His hair standing on end, his tail rod straight. But what really crushed you was the look in his eye. 

Suddenly you were just as horrible as every other witch that he’d served. You’d used your powers to punish him, to harm him. Every promise you’d ever made to him had broken in that instant. 

You see Ezra’s slim form dart to your doorway. In a flash, he slips under the bed and your heart sinks into your ankles. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice ragged from the night’s festivities. 

He doesn’t answer. You press your eyes shut and swallow hard then crawl to the edge of your mattress. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge. On top of everything else there’s a hangover churning in your gut. You guess you deserve that, too. 

“Ezra, are you ok?” you ask. Whatever words of atonement you pieced together before you cried yourself to sleep have dissolved. 

He’s in the furthest corner beneath the bed, tucked against the wall with his tail wrapped tight around his body. You think you might burst into tears again seeing him cowering away from you. 

“I hope I didn’t make you fret,” he says. 

You want to scoop him into your arms and hold him as tight as you can but it feels like you’ve lost that privilege. 

“I’m so sorry, Ez,” you say, climbing down to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I'm sick over it.”

“You were well within your rights. You’re my master and I struck you,” he says. “I’m the one that should beg forgiveness.”

To hear him call you his master makes you feel even worse than before. There’s no amount of tuna belly that will make this right.

“No. It was my fault. And I promise I’ll never use my powers on you again. Ever,” you say. 

His gold eyes shift away. 

“Keep your apologies,” he says. “And I see I’ve kept you from your new paramour. Another act to add to my contrition.” 

“I don’t care about that.” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the prospect of taking River to bed, none of this would’ve happened. 

“Nonsense, little mage. You’re a witch. Be with other witches,” Ezra says.  

–

River’s in the bookshop when you arrive, standing opposite Aunt Margot. When you couldn’t convince Ezra to come out from under the bed, you decided to give him space. Maybe you could distract yourself re-alphabetizing the cookbooks. You were hoping for some quiet but you’re confronted by the very attractive witch you’d been flirting shamelessly with the night before.

You know you look a mess, your face still feels puffy. River, on the other hand, looks like the definition of a sight for sore eyes. Freshly showered and dressed in a well pressed shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows, the sun is streaming in the front window outlining his still-damp hair like he’s Prince Charming himself.

“There you are!” Margot calls. 

You smooth your hand across your top nervously as she appraises you. You threw on a more than slightly wrinkled shirt that was languishing on the floor of your bedroom, too preoccupied to put together a real outfit.

“Looks like we had too much of Ariadne’s little potion,” she says. 

“I have a tonic that’s great for that,” River says with a smile. “But coffee’s faster.” 

He hands you a steaming paper cup from the cafe down the street. He and Margot have their own perched on the counter. You take a sip and are surprised to find that it’s your regular order.

”Are you clairvoyant, too?” You ask.

River blushes. “Nah. Margot told me how you take your coffee,” he chuckles.

It's so thoughtful and you’re not feeling very deserving. You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“I wanted to go foraging around here but I really need a local,” he says. 

“That sounds fun,” you say half heartedly in an attempt to demure. You’re not really up for a good time but it feels like a real asshole move to turn River down considering he brought you coffee after you ditched him at the bonfire. Margot is beaming at the register.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t I get you a basket?”

—

River carries the basket now overflowing with mushrooms and wild herbs. You’re deep in the woods, branches crunching beneath your shoes. Nature’s sounds echo around you, starlings and chipmunks, the constant whoosh of the breeze through the turning leaves. 

This path is overgrown but you know it well. You spent your childhood getting lost in these woods. They have their own magic. 

Your guilt overshadows the date. If it is a date. River seems to think it is if the way the back of his hand keeps brushing against yours is any sign. It’s hard to enjoy it especially when your mind keeps drifting off. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re only half-listening as he tells you just how mystical the vibes are at Stonehenge. 

You stop at a stream, sitting on a fallen tree that’s overgrown with moss. It’s one of your favorite spots. The water sparkles where the sunlight spills though the branches, peacefully trickling over rocks. You pick up one of the smooth stones and trace its wet surface with your thumb. 

You’ve sat in this very spot before feeling just as shitty. Heartbroken then, too, trying to figure out if you could call it a break up when you hadn’t actually been anything official. She hadn’t wanted anything complicated and you swore your feelings wouldn’t get involved. Unfortunately they had their own plans.

Ezra found you there, sulking by the stream, wondering if anyone would think you were worth breaking their own rules for. 

It struck you how quiet he was. There were no anecdotes about what the witch scene was like in 1924 or tips for mouse hunting, indoor versus outdoor. He just padded into the water and nudged a little stone towards your feet. It was just big enough to fit in your palm and it was cool against your skin as you held it there. 

“A thing of beauty,” he said and he head butted your shins affectionately. 

It was. Round from years, maybe decades under the water’s friction. A dull gray cut through the middle by a wedge of some crystalline mineral like shards of broken glass. You recall exactly what it looks like because it still sits on your night stand. Each time you see it you’re reminded of how Ezra slumped down beside you, his warm body weight like a cozy blanket, a faint purr reverberating through him. 

“You’ve got a big heart, little mage,” he said. 

You choke up at the memory, unsure if Ezra would ever think that again. You certainly wouldn’t say it about yourself today. 

“Either you’re really hungover or something’s bothering you,” River says gently. 

You laugh tearfully and he rubs a circle on your back. You try to shake your head but River doesn’t give it up, looking at you with a soft concern.

“I really fucked things up with Ezra last night,” you admit. Telling him what a cruel witch you are might be a huge turn off but the feeling of his palm through your shirt makes you feel at ease.

“Ezra?” he asks.

“My familiar,” you remind him.

“Oh.”

“He scratched me and —”

“He hurt you?” he asks, face painted with righteous indignation. 

“No. He barely got me. I totally overreacted,” you say. “I used my powers on him. It was just a reflex, you know? But…I just feel awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tells you with a relieved chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If that’s true then why do you hate yourself?

“If Rhea was out of line I’d do the same,” he goes on.

You wince at the thought.

“You’d hurt her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve never had to. She knows who’s boss.”

You’ve always considered Ezra a partner. Of course, there are plenty of witches that think of their familiars as nothing more than servants. It’s an old school way of seeing it. You hadn’t expected River to use words that remind you of the way your grandmother used to talk.

“Maybe it’s different,” you say, trying to give him the opportunity to walk it back. Ezra’s not like Rhea. Maybe you’d feel the same way River does if your familiar hadn’t once been as human as you are. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

“You’re a funny little witch,” he says with a grin.

“What does that mean?” you ask. 

“Crying over your familiar. It’s sweet.” He says it as if it’s a compliment but the condescension makes you frown in disgust.

“If you want to make it up to him, why don’t you find him a lady cat that can make him feel good,” he adds with a laugh.

“Is that what you’re into?” you ask with venom.

“What? That was a joke,” River says.

“I don’t think it’s funny. You know, just because Ezra’s a familiar, it doesn’t mean he should be treated like shit. And he’s not a cat. He’s a human,” you tell him.

“He’s a witch killer,” River spits back. “So I’m sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him.”

Your stomach turns. It’s the truth. Ezra’s served as a familiar in your family for centuries, his history has never been hidden from you and he’s never shied away from it.

But his punishment has never made sense to you. A thousand years, so many lifetimes, watching his friends and family die as he toiled in servitude for witches as backwards as River. It’s cruel, that’s why the Elders changed the laws years ago. And yet Ezra’s remained a cat, a familiar, disdained. 

Suddenly, the anger you’ve been tormenting yourself with turns outwards and you think your powers could set fire to the dry leaves at your feet. It’s all so unfair. The Elders turned him and witches like River scorn him and none of them feel a lick of shame. The back of your neck heats with a protective rage.

“He’s my friend,” you choke. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

And you leave River speechless in the middle of the woods.  

🐈‍⬛

Part 3

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[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[sturnsmadl]

mute 2.

< previous

contains-no use of y/n, cursing, light fluff, unestablished friendship, mentions of tough time at school

pairing- grumpy!chris x mute!reader

please read the authors note at the bottom :)

its chris' second day and to your suprise he's not very liked so far, you managed to escape from him yesterday but today was different. it was like he was tracing your every step because when you turn around? he's there. it was lunch period and normally you go to the old makeout cupboard, where everyone would go make out with their boyfriends, seniors, ex's and even other people's girlfriends. that was until the teachers found out and another random closet started getting used. instead of constantly sitting in a bathroom stool and getting made fun of you starting using the closet to finally eat lunch in peace.

Flashback!!

after you left the classroom you head straight for the cupboard and sit down on the floor against one of the shelving units. you open ur beat up, pink lunchbox you've had for as long as you can remember and look over what you packed for yourself today. lunch ends just before u can finish and you pack up quickly, needing to leave the cupboard before the halls fill up and people realise where you disappear to at lunch.

Flashback ends!!

unfortunately chris had a feeling, and a strong one too. chris could sense something was off about your silence and even if you were hated for it he would figure out what it was, he'd made the effort to follow you around like a spy for the whole day and at lunch he finally saw where you disappeared into yesterday. he has no clue why your hiding in there all the time but he knows he's going to find out either way. he follows you and waits a few minutes before opening the door and going in, closing it behind him. you look up from the floor and see him, your heart immediately stops and you, as usual stay completely silent.

"what the fuck..."

he stares at you then you see his expression slightly soften which suprises you as its completely different from the whole mean, tough demeanor he gives off. he sits down opposite you and sighs to himself as he looks around where youve been sitting at lunch for god knows how long.

"what are you doing? there's empty tables out there.."

you shrug softly obviously not going to speak and tell him your hiding so no one can see you eating alone, he looks at your beat lunchbox, your old backpack and your clothes and he can already tell your not the luckiest of people but he still thinks your insanely beautiful and just simply misunderstood.

weeks later

its been around 2 weeks since chris found your spot and everyday without fail he's came in and sat on the cold floor with you to eat his lunch just so ur not completely alone. he's always rambling about his day or how another teacher has become one of his worst for simply asking him to do his work, of course you dont say anything but you listen to him and you nod to show him your listening. you've weirdly became kind of comfortable around chris which isnt a feeling youve felt in a while and your honestly thinking about speaking to him while he rants on about how shit his old school was and how he's glad he was finally kicked out so he could start again. your so tempted to speak and while he's mid sentence you crack.

he groans " and the gym teacher? actually the biggest dick ive ev-"

"chris." you whisper just loud enough for his head to shoot up in shock.

a/n- ok i know this is also very boring :/ but i swear now that shes talking its gonna be a lottt better and more entertaining!

edit- wait i hate this dm omg. i promise promise promise that next part will be juicyyy

tags! @bellaonthelow @muchloveforhacker @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @watchu-mean-baby-keem @babyalliah-777 @imtheprett @sturniolo-fann @coochiedestroyer1 @scarlettbitches

[kyri45]

✨ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU Q&A (22-09)✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the ISAT Sky: Cotl!AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@spec7rejay ha chiesto: First, for the lmk au: oh my god, they were roommates. Second: this may be a bit of a stretch, but I was listening to Lindsey Stirling and her song Foreverglow made me think of the ISaT S:CotL AU Third: your art and AU’s are amazing and I hope you have a nice day! :)

Aww you're right! It is kind of fitting! :D

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! I have a question about your Sky x ISAT au In your au, does Aurora exist? Would she be a preformer or something closer to the version of her in queendom?

AURORA in the AU is more similar to a performer who's also a seasonal guide, and the songs they play during the concert where you get teleported and become a bird or a jellyfish are like a collective meditative experience.

da3gr3d ha chiesto: Im finishing to play sky cotl at light speed just so i can read your au comic without spoilers of the game bc im obsessed with the lmk bio parents one and now i wanna read the other one as well bc you are so good at drawing and scripting the comics

(i said it and ill say it again i LOVE your stories im obsessed)

Anonimo ha chiesto: ur isat x sky:cotl au made me pick up sky <3

AAAHHH TY!! Hope you like the game as much as I do!

Anonimo ha chiesto: god your s:cotl isat comic has been making me absolutely completely insane im so obsessed with it. it's so so beautiful and so so good and im just auugughhhh

@queenofskys5 ha chiesto: I hope everyone who came for LMK is enjoying ISAT x Sky:COTL the way I'm enjoying LMK after basically learning of its existence from here

hehe glad you liked the LMK one as well!

Anonimo ha chiesto: the. the pararel between him and siffrin. that doesn't mean anything right haha I'm proooobably looking too deep into it def and it's def not because I think the king is siffrin in some way and I'm totally not looking at the same placements of their three eyelashes and the way they both have their left eye covered. I'm going. insane. tell me I'm insane please. love your art btw! :D

Ah yes, the 2 school of thoughts about Resh in the Sky fandom: either you are team Resh is you/you are part of resh or Resh and Alef are two different beings

@melodyofthevoid ha chiesto: Since in the new COTL event there's a spell that makes you a crab... if the gang got hit with that on the island... It'd truly be their worst nightmare /j

But it would also be so fuckong funny

Anonimo ha chiesto: TEY SIAD TEH THIHGBTEHYSA ISAID TEH THING IM SCREAMING OH MY GOD how long did it take for you to think of that dialogue, siffrin being from ISAT saying that and resh being from COTL saying that, people saying their respective game title names puugghhgh I'm gonna eXPLODE

Ahah since May I knew I was gonna add the name of the game (Sky) into that conversation. As I was drawing the chapter I thought that maybe I could also add the ISAT name as well

Anonimo ha chiesto: (regarding your current update on the ISAT cotl au) I SCREAMED. I SCREAMED. LOOOOPPP. OH MY GOD THEIR FAMILY. IM SCREAMING IM GONNA THROW UP /POS

LOOP! THEY WILL SAVE THE DAY!

[velvetwyrme]

doozi's undertale fic recs round THREE

As requested, here are EVEN MORE FIC RECS. This round is mostly reader inserts, with a dash of platonic and non-reader fics at the end.

As usual, this is really really long, so take your time and enjoy! Some of them are uhhhh, pretty spicy, so please make sure to check the warnings and tags and act accordingly.

Please tread carefully while reading, check tags, take breaks, drink water and HAVE FUN <3

The STATUS of each fic is labelled as such: Finished, Ongoing/Unfinished, Discontinued. (Unless the author specified that the fic is Discontinued, on Indefinite Hiatus, or otherwise abandoned the work, I will mark it as Ongoing/Unfinished. Oneshots are also marked as such.)

Spicy (Explicit) and/or Dark fics have also been labelled if relevant. (I won’t mark ones with just suggestive themes/moments, since I cant guarantee I’ll catch all of them. Similarly, unless there is consistent graphic death, gore, or otherwise prevalent upsetting topics, I [probably] won’t mark it as dark.)

MULTICHAPTERS

Ghost Hunting With Skeletons - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

ONE OF THE FICS OF ALL TIME!!!

Go "ghost hunting" with Cash while looking for machine parts! Become Sans' weird coworker! Lie and keep secrets with Red! Get tangled up with a mysterious shadowy figure who spontaneously spawns in your house- wait, what was that last one?

Tilikum - Various Sanses/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

I'm sure everyone and their dog knows of this fic by now but listen. If you haven't read this, somehow, please do yourself a favour and read this immediately.

I love mer fics and I especially love CEPHALOPOD SIRENS. (Blue and Red are very good in this fic but SKULL!!!! MY PRECIOUS BOY!!)

The Mirror Bay Depths - Various Sanses/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

And speaking of MER FIC- if you like merskeletons, mysteries, manipulation and mmmmmmmmmm...magical workarounds for linguistic difficulties (i made the alliteration work, see?) Then you'll LOVE this fic!

Dive into The Mirror Bay Depths and get charmed by a buncha mers! It's super cute and also has a serious undertone of "UH OH" once the mystery begins to come to light.

Got Crabs? - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Got crabs????? Hilarious soulmate AU where you and have some of the stupidest words written on each other's bodies and it all goes GREAT.

You do in fact, got crabs.

It's Just A Game - Sans/Reader - Finished

CYOAs my beloved. This was recced to me recently and I got caught up with all the new updates and it's sooooo good auugugjhfkgh,, I love existential crises and weird metafiction.

cat ~/.zsh_history - Sans/Reader - Finished

If you enjoyed It's Just A Game, or other fics like it, you'll probably like this too!!!! Player-character reality simulation existential angst all wrapped up into a neat little fic <3333 It feels like a weight on my heart.

The Understudy - Sans/Reader - Finished

THE anti-harem fic. As in, THE anti-harem fic that inspired the structure of every other anti-harem fic. It's a piece of fantastic storytelling and is a literal pioneer of a genre.

It was a fic that was intended to flip a genre on it's head, and it's fascinating to me that it became a genre of its own. Splendidly written and is the cause of 99% of my confusion during my return to the fandom because all of a sudden there were a buncha anti-harems and I was like WTF ARE THESE jkdhfgkjdfk,,

I went into it intending to find out the history behind anti-harems, and then got sucked in completely. You can guess the general premise, but MAN does plot hit hard!!!!!!

And speaking of anti-harems...

The Eye of a Judge - Various, Swapfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

What if anti-harem fic, except the terrible GF was EVEN MORE terrible. Really really fun concept with what happens to the reader, and oh so fucked up just in general. Make sure to check the tags on this one.

The Faults in Our Souls - W.D. Gaster/Reader - Finished

This fic is super sweet, the reader falls into the Underground and gets taken in by Gaster and his two boys, eventually falling in love and becoming a parental figure for the skelebros. But then the incident with the core happens...

Pros & Cons - Sans/Reader - Finished/Series

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

I try not to put too much NSFW in the lists on this blog but uhhhh *looks at the rest of the list* it's fine. I like these fics too much not to add them.

This one in particular is AMAZING and really funny to boot. The reader wakes up after a one night stand with very few memories of the night before and debates the pros and cons of checking who they slept with thsjfbbfkfbk

The fic right after is ALSO hilarious because it gives so much more context and life to the world I love it dearly. Also the smut is great but yknow gbflgbkf I'm TRYING to keep this relatively SFW

Eau de résistance - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

Underfell flavoured slave AU which gets really, really complicated emotions-wise. It's one of the few UT fics I still keep up with pretty actively atm, and it's because the mystery has me hooked. I NEED TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON.

Other than the obvious premise, it gets into some darker topics, so if you're sensitive to that sorta stuff, please read the tags and tread carefully if you decide to read! Otherwise, enjoy!

The Party Incident and Other Embarrassing Anecdotes - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

Takes a deep breath. Ok so, I debated adding this fic. Not because I don't like it, but because I haven't actual read this in years, so I don't know how it stands up to the test of time.

I don't usually like adding fics that I can't certifiably recommend, but I also feel like if you haven't read this, you haven't Really experienced Undertale reader inserts. It's like. a classic.

I still remember vividly cringing from secondhand embarrassment SO many times while reading BUT I wouldn't trade in that experience for anything- I fucking loved this fic. It was wonderful and terrible and so incredibly fun, and honestly I kinda don't want to reread it so I can keep it in the shiny veneer of nostalgia forever.

Smells Like Chalk and a Cockatoo - Sans/Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

Uhhhh, I don't actually have a good segue for this, but this one also has really complicated relationships. There is a happy ending! It's a fucking rollercoaster to get there though.

It's kinda in the same vein as The Party Incident for me, I consider it a classic, and it's also... very 2016/17. Take that how you will. I don't know if I'd recommend this fic, but I definitely think you should read it, if you know what I mean. I'm VERY fond of it despite my extremely conflicted emotions. It's definitely not for everyone though.

Oh, also it has the most fucked up form of skeleton reproduction ever <3 That's okay though, because it results in one of my favourite fankids ever. I'm love my boyyy Impact ;w;!!!!

Bonetrast - Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

The reader in this is terrible and I'm fascinated. I like reading about characters being antagonistic towards each other sometimes, so I really enjoyed this and I wanna see where the author takes this. Make sure to read the tags.

A Drink That Hits Right In the Bones - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

This one... the reader in this kinda sucks too jhsfjkdf but in a different way. Once again fascinating as hell!!! Drunk, gay, in denial and homophobic, this reader is NOT having a great time.

I, however, reading it, am having a fantastic time!

breakfast combo - Sans/Reader - Finished

Veryyyyyy cute! The reader gets bothered about their crush on Sans by UF!Sans. Love the banter. Oneshot turned twoshot, it's a nice little read :D

Penned to you - Horrortale!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Penpals!!! I'm loving this so far <3 Horrortale Pap and the reader become penpals and subsequently friends. Sans is... around, probably not being spooky and weird. I'm excited to see where this one goes >:00

Grounding Your Ego - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Soulmate AU again!!! The reader has a set of REALLY terrible words written around their neck, and... they're mute. :]

ALSO the little snippets of world building are so delicious and have stuck in my mind like the- wait fuck I just realised the title is a pun what the fuck how'd I miss that before- LIKE THE GROUNDS IN PAPYRUS' COFFEE.

The Sacrificial Skeleton and the Labyrinth of Gods - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

:] *points vigourously at the warning* The smut is a pretty ingrained part once it gets to it, but I couldn't NOT add this fic.

Anyway I'm a little obsessed with this fic. There's a skeleton reader, who's a necromancer! The skeletons are thought to be gods, but actually they got isekai'd! It's a WILD RIDE and it's surprisingly good??? It feels like one of those webtoons or manga that you look at the cover/summary for and go *??????* at, but then you start reading it and go "OH, THIS IS REALLY FUN ACTUALLY."

There's pretty intense language barriers between the skeletons and the reader for a lot of the fic, but I love that sorta stuff, so that just makes it better for me lol. I adore the dynamics between the characters, they feel so diametrically opposed sometimes it's great.

Nothing to see here. - Various/Reader, Various Sanscest - Ongoing/Unfinished

Oh this one!!! Should probably actually go under misc but it's okay. This fic asks the question of: What if there was a MASSIVE multiversal mashup and some of the residents shared an apartment building where they now live completely normal domestic lives?

It's got /Reader stuff as well as a fun selection of Sanscest and platonic roommate content, and each chapter is semi-self contained and really fun.

Magic Bitty Bits™ - Various/Reader, Various Sanscest - Ongoing/Unfinished

Another one that should technically be under misc. I love bitty fics... and I love really fucked up shit happening to characters <3 Take are to note the warnings at the beginning of chapters, but hhrhghh I'm on the edge of my seat every time something happens/is revealed. LIKE WHAT!! WHAT!!!!!!! AHH-

The Monster Who Will Always Wait - Nightmare!Sans - Finished

Small kraken mer becomes BIG KRAKEN MER!!!!!! Leviathan sized drama, with some sweet romance. I followed this one from the day it was posted to the day it finished and I loved every second.

Dire Wolf - Horror!Swapfell!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

You get two new coworkers, who have some unusual habits surrounding food, leading you to make them lunch!! As you grow closer, their histories and rivalries come to light. It's hella good and I love the character dynamics.

Uncomfortably Similar Situations - Horrortale!Sans/Reader - Finished

Horrortale!Sans brings you home like one would a starving stray cat. There are ups and downs but everything turns out alright :]!!

The Sound of the Sea - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

More mer content!!! But Underfell Sans this time ! There are only 3 chapters so far and it has me wanting more!! I love this so much...

Sweet Deceptions - Swapfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Fake dating!!!!! What more can I say ;D Well, I can say a lot more, like how fantastic this fic is with the escalation of the fake relationship, but I'll leave yall to find that out for yourselves :]

Dream Catcher, Nightmare Snatcher - Nightmare!Sans - Ongoing/Unfinished

HRHHGH Nightmare gets stuck in a Venom-esque situation with you, and you both suffer the consequences. You're both menaces to each other in this, it's great.

Coffee and Chaos - Underfell!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Reader ends up inheriting their mom's tenants, a pair of skeleton brothers. It's a nice slice of life!! Also, he/they reader ftw \o/!!

Canids love bones - Bad Sanses/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

In this, the reader is a monster with a really fluffy tail and a tragic past. They just keep getting bothered by these skeleton dudes and eventually end up joining them. Fun read! I like monster readers.

Train Station Blues - Mafiafell!Sans/Reader - Discontinued

Sadly discontinued :( Still a really solid fic and an enjoyable read!!! I adore the 1920s as a setting...

What is This, A Hallmark Movie? - Underswap!Papyrus/Reader - Finished

Christmas fic!! The reader does not like Christmas, and Stretch tries his best to get them to enjoy it regardless. It doesn't work out too well... but everything is alright in the end. I loved Stretch's determination jkfdhgkjdfg hes trying so hard...

Story of the perfect vessel - Various Sanses/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Really interesting premise!!! You're a parasite that took over this dying human's body and are now puppeteering it around. Then you meet a buncha skeletons, but you're still a parasite with no sense of what being human is like!! Love me some weird concepts.

America's Unluckiest (Luckiest) Almost-Astronomer - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Yaayyyy! You get isekai'd into a hot mess of a universe, brimming with skeletons, skeletons and more skeletons! There's some weird stuff going on, but surely it'll be fine.

All is Fair in Love and Prank Wars - Sans/Reader - Finished

Hey! Another 2016 fic! The reader starts a prank war with Sans. Gets angsty but everything gets better in the end. I really enjoyed it :> Reader is named in this, but for some reason that didn't bother me like it usually does lol

Mr. Fear - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Finished

This is an interesting one. It's set in a mashup of various AUs (e.g. Swapfell Alphys and Underfell Papyrus) but not in like. a multiversal machine malfunction sorta deal. Anyway, it's got a fun plot and I really enjoyed it :]

Cheshire Kitten - Underswap!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

The reader is a shapeshifter who prefers to be a cat! (Mood) And they use that to deal with problems large and small. It's real sweet and makes me also want to be able to turn into a shapeshifting cat.

it's just me and an overly enthusiastic skeleton; trying to solve a murder. - Underswap!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Ah, I love ridiculously long titles. Saves me time. The title also acts as a summary, and it's really fun!! Monster murders must be horrible to make a case for, since you can't inspect the body for evidence...

Ship of bones - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

PIRATES!!!!! I love the action and drama in this one, it's so fun! Also features a lot of scary skeletons. I loved reading about the reader giving them the slip >:3c!!

A Sea of Hope - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

MORE pirates!! This one features a skeleton reader <33 I love the backstory and lore... also the reader is so teeny compared to Axe :DDD

You Know Where To Find Me - Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

I am so invested in this premise (Papyrus is the mascot of monsterkind and you are his assistant) and both of you are tired after having a string of terrible employers/employees kjhkjdfg,, I'm so excited to see where this goes, it's been fun so far.

=========================

ONESHOTS

Seeing Double - Swapfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

Twin shenanigans. TWIN SHENANIGANS AT COFFEE SHOPS! I can't say more without spoiling things so just go read it!!! Reader(s) are named but moreso for Twin purposes.

Somethin' Special - Underswap!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

More coffee shop AU! Very cute. SO cute. They're both awkward and silly and its SO sweet.

Daguerreologue - Sans/Reader, Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot/Series

Actually a oneshot that's part of a series, but I just liked this one the most (you should also go read the rest of the series, it's really good too!!!)

Feels like a little snapshot of a soft, warm life, worn by time. It's just a really nice fic! Good for feelin fuzzy inside.

Looking for Something - Sans/Reader - Oneshot

The reader loves to people watch, and draw the people they see. Some of which, are monsters ;)! Superrrrrrrrrr cute. Suuuuuuuuuper super cute.

FIGHT ME!! - Sans/Reader - Oneshot

Not to be mistaken for Fight Me! by MsMK or Fight Me! by Little_old_lady (both of which are very good!!!!!!!) This fic DOES however use the same basic premise/prompt except with Sans as the nurse and it's SIMILARLY fantastic. I love nurse Sans in this.

If yall know of more UT fics with this title/concept please tell me so I can make this stupid joke a third time.

Dates are dumb - Sans/Reader - Oneshot

Sans has a really bad blind date, but his server comes to the rescue!! Really cute!

This was supposed to be smut, idk what happened. - Swapfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

As the title says, notably not smut. Sexy and very charged? Absolutely.

It's a soulmate AU where the reader is a mob boss making a trade of sorts with their rival, Sans. He shows off the goods before the trade is accepted.

Light of My Life - Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

Very sweet!! The reader has magic that allows them to hear magic, and they let Papyrus listen in.

and i will love you on purpose - Horrortale!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

As you've probably noticed, 99% of the oneshots I rec here are super cute, and this is no exception djkfgkjgfh 5+1 of kissing Horror, it's bitesized and adorable.

Stargazing - Sans/Reader - Oneshot

A little slice of happiness set before the barrier went up. Sans and the reader are kids and it's very very sweet.

It's Raining Right Here (They/Them Edition) - Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

Veryyyy cute snapshot of romance with Papyrus <3!!!!

General Misconception - Megalosomnia!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

I love the Megalosomnia AU and I also love Papyrus. This has both :] I won't spoil things, but General just wants to be helpful :))

And speaking of Megalosomnia...

Delirious - Megalosomnia - Dr. Baggs/Reader - Oneshot

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

>:3c I usually try avoid too much explicit content for these lists but listennnnnnnn I love good and fun characterisation MORE than any conviction I have to that, plus I've broken that rule already.

Anyway senseless justification aside, I freakin loveeeee how much characterisation gets packed in here, it's delicious!! You get to know so much about the dynamics and workings of the relationships in this universe it's great.

Relearning - Ink!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

The reader breaks her arm and has to relearn how to draw. Cue Ink! It's really sweet!!

Turn The Page - Swapfell!Skelebros/Reader - Oneshot

This one is actually part of a series but I just really like this one hjsdfgjhf,, I love festivals and markets!! The reader is so awkward and jumpy and I'm like. ah. a kindred spirit.

Meet Cute Oneshots - Various - Oneshot/Series

Cheating again by linking a series. As the title implies, it's a bunch of meet cutes!! My favorites (as of writing) are the second, fourth and fifth in the series ^^!!

the thing about axe - Horrortale!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

You go for a nice walk in the woods with Axe :) I love how it this one plays with emotions and atmosphere for the audience, because the reader (character) is mostly oblivious to Axe's history.

hottie hotline - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

Really sweet and funny. Red gets stuck in an elevator. THE FUCKING ENDING GOT ME. HRHFKFJFKDNDK

A Conversation Starter - Swapfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

First times for both of them! A snapshot of these two stumbling through a conversation with a human/monster for the first time. It's adorable.

Soulmate of the Century - Nightmare!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

Soulmate AU where you can't harm your soulmate. You really just wanted some ramen, man.

Kabedon - Swapfell!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

Kabedon the skeleton!!! Razzy doesn't get the appeal, so you explain it to him ;))

Cuddles of Doom - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

DOOMYYYYY!!! I love the dialogue here. Doomy is the most precious kitty ever and Papyrus is very cute.

Café - Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

Short and sweet!! (Lightly) tsundere Papyrus is very cute dfjkghkfjg <3

A Blue Valentine - Underswap!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

It's Valentines, and you're crushin'~ Both of them are soooooooo sweet in this.

You'd Be Goo Where You Stand - Sans/Reader - Oneshot

True to the title I am goo where I stand. I'm all gooey and gushy it's so cuteeeeeeeeeeeeee. THEY'RE MARRIIIIIEDDDD,,,,, and there's a sequel??? SO cute.

First Meeting - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

UF!Papyrus is a very worried parent and the reader is sweet as hell. I just think there's also something really funny about Papyrus calling Frisk a SLIPPERY SNAKE jkdhfjghfdg

=========================

MISC. / OTHER

Full Deck - ? - Ongoing/Unfinished

Hysterical flip of every reader insert ever written. Can be simply summed up as "skeletons desperately dodging various reader's advances", but that is nowhere near close to describing this fic. It's really funny, and if you haven't read it, you should.

Not quite a /reader, so it goes here lolol. The reader is more something that happens to the skeletons.

No fin new about it - Bad Sanses||Nightmare's Gang&Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

SUBNAUTICA AU!! With timeline fuckery! I just like big mer skeletons. And Subnautica. It's a real fun time.

Bits Of Spaghetti - Various&Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

This fic treats bitties in a really interesting way!! Veryyy cool origins, and very interesting dynamics between characters. Reader is an old man, and he just kinda wants to make puppets and dolls and have a nice quiet life. Unfortunately, skeletons.

Don't give up, Y/n! - Various&Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

I do not have any kids but this fic makes me feel like a worried parent. It also makes me feel like I need to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes. It's great, really. Just makes me so stressed. They're just a kid... definitely heed the tags for this one.

Down The Mountain, Under The Door - Underswap!Papyrus&Reader - Oneshot

Monsters are giant sized !! Or humans are tiny. Either way, Underswap Papyrus comforts the reader after accidentally spooking them pretty badly. I love myself some good ol' unintentional fearplay and intentional comfort.

The Bucket List - Various&Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

Hoo boy. The reader creates a bucket list, intending to die at the end. It's story about depression and recovery and it's really really good.

Heart on the Table - Ongoing/Unfinished

MADE ME CRYYY,,, Sans and Pap end up taking care of Frisk and honestly just go read it it's very sweet and sad and good. Frisk is just a kid!!!!!! AHHH

Broken Bones (and Sticks and Stones) - Finished

CRIES!!!!!! You know Handplates AU. I know Handplates AU. Featuring: extremely complex familial feelings!!!! Papyrus has a kid, and she is the SWEETEST. Another of my favorite fankids!! FLORAAAAAA <33

This of course, with Gaster being Gaster in this AU, makes everything even more complicated. It's really good and made me cry. Please read it. Papyrus is the best mom.

Jamais Vu - Oneshot

HGH... this one is like a punch to the gut but in a really good way. Both because of the absolutely incredible writing and also because it was the first Undertale fic that this author has posted since 2017, and gave me a scare when I opened my email.

Letters to a Friend - Oneshot

Another by the same author, but from 2016. My HEART?????? The King Papyrus ending always hurts me so... hhhrhhhhghjkdf,,

OH, I WAS BEING SARCASTIC - Finished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

It's more Papyrus Angst! This is just going to happen every time I do one of these, probably.

He would never take a vacation for any reason...

Sonata - Finished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

More Papyrus Angst. Sometimes a melody can say more than words.

Broken Trust (Re-upload) - Finished

What's this!! Even more angst?! You bet! It's Swap flavoured this time though.

Sans is not actually a monster, and Papyrus is horrified when he finds out. Very very good and sad, with a happy ending. Paps is not great in this, but he comes around :( I really really love the concept of this fic, and I think it was executed really well.

I'm Feeling Fine, Kid - Finished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

Soooooooooooo fucked up but it's also like. one of the formative fics of my existence. I could've sworn this was in one of my other lists, but apparently not. Fucked me up big time back when I first read it sdjkhjhf, read this if you wanna hurt and then get tentatively put back together.

If you've read Flowey Is Not A Good Life Coach and you liked that, you might like this too. Lots of Papyrus Angst, but this one has even more Sans Angst!

Stones and a Glass House - Oneshot

[Warning: Contains Discussions of Explicit Content.]

Want a break from the sudden deluge of angst??? Try this, it's kinda a crackfic, and very funny.

Love when brothers get to tease each other mercilessly. They talk pretty candidly about explicit content, so heed the warning LMAO. Very very funny though.

=========================

SANSCEST/PAPCEST

AH SURPRISE! I didn't want to make a whole new list since I have way less of these on hand, but I also really wanted to recommend them lol. If this ain't your thing, then this list ends here -u-)b

fox in the coop - Sanscest (Dust/Horror/Crop) - Ongoing/Unfinished

Ouuuhhhhh I am so unwell over this fic. It hurts so good. Hidden identity bullshit to the max!! I don't even know where to begin with this one, but it's fantastic, go read the summary at least. Dust is so normal about everything. Totally.

Also, Dust gets chickens!!

Colors - Papcest (Spicyhoney || Underfell!Papyrus/Underswap!Papyrus) - Ongoing/Unfinished

Ahhhhh language barriers my beloved. Falling in love despite language barriers my beloved!!!

It's got some real good drama and lovely lovely writing. I love it a whole lot :]]

VILLAIN HOTLINE - Sanscest (Bad Sans Poly) - Ongoing/Unfinished

Bad Sans Chatfic. Wait wait wait hear me out!!! COME BACK. THERES AN ACTUAL STORY.

The chatfic parts are pretty fun, and the developing horror plot even more so! Universes and people are glitching, which spells a bad time for everyone!!!

You Have One (1) Unread Message - Sanscest (Bad Sans Poly) - Ongoing/Unfinished

Similar to the one above, this fic has a similar concept (crack chatfic that devolves into plot and horror)

Genuinely quite terrifying, even when viewed through Killer's strange apathetic POV (which is ALSO fascinating in it's own right).

Little (NOT LITTLE) Red Riding Hood - Papcest (Spicyhoney) - Finished

Really fun twist on Little Red Riding Hood!! Red also gets to wear a frilly nightcap and nightgown in this, which is a fun image.

So You Didn't Want to Marry a Mage - Papcest (Spicyhoney + BG. Mapleblossom) - Ongoing/Unfinished

Ahhh I love fics where a character gets to learn magic from another character... this one is hella cute!!! I love a lot of this author's works but this one in particular is one of my favourites :>

=========================

Did you have fun scrolling forever? I had fun putting this together.

There are a total of 90 fics here! I wanted to do 99 since it's the 999999999th anniversary of Undertale this year, but I'm tired so 90 will do. That's already so many. 90 in fact. Also my phone started to lag while scrolling so perhaps it's for the best.

If yall have any recs for ME, please drop them by my askbox, I (obviously) love reading jkshdgjkfh,,, I'm generally up for rereading stuff, so dw if you reckon I've read something before :]!!

Also, if you haven't already, you should check out my FIC REC MASTERLIST for previous (and future) fic rec lists (from me, specifically).

[delimeats-000]

Cash in my prize:

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut, shit writing

note: don't read if you're a little bitch..

request -> anon

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

i went along with the triplets to film them at the american ninja warrior park.

as everyone knows chris constantly flirts with me as a joke to get me all flustered, sooooo in return, ill do the same.

they started off on an inflatable wall climb..

"come on y/n, you try!" nic says.

"nah id rather climb chris instead" i say while winking at chris.

"Y/NN!!"

they move on to the obstacle course..

"chris if you make it before nick ill give you a big kiss"

chris turns to me wide eyed and gets a head start before the countdown.

he makes it to the finish before nic, "congrats monkey but we can save your prize for later." i wink again.

i cant tell if he's red from blushing or if hes just overworked. either way, still cute.

the good finally make their way to the wall, starting off small they go to the lowest one.

chris comes down from it using the pole to slide down.

"if i did that with less clothes its worth a million bucks" he comments.

"i gotta put in a loan."

"shut up" chris chuckles.

we get back to the house and the guys are so tired that they go shower then bed immediately. or so i thought.

what i didn't know what chris was waiting out in his room for his brothers to go to sleep so that he could come up and have a little talk with me.

chris' pov:

i go upstairs to see y/n sitting on her phone in the living room. she thinks she's so funny flirting with me all day getting me all nervous and shit.

i walk up to her and sit down putting my arm around her.

"christopher did you shower? you stink dude." she giggles.

"think you're funny?"

"usually.."

"im talking about earlier. trying to make me nervous or what?"

"so you can jokingly flirt but i can't?" she backs away.

pulling her close i get in her face, "i was never joking."

she looks at me confused, flustered, needy..

i grab her face and smash my lips onto hers, she doesn't pull away. surprising.

seconds go by and i pull away, "just had to cash in my prize. ill go ahead and shower now"

"can i- can i come too?"

i smile and start walking to my room.

y/n's pov:

next thing i know we're in his shower.

"get on your knees pretty girl" he says softly.

i do as i'm told and look up at him waiting for further instruction.

he plays with my wet hair watching me reach for his already hard cock. "good girl baby, keep listening and there shouldn't be any problems."

"yes sir" he laughs at this.

he grabs my hair harshly lifting my head to look at him, "suck" is all he says.

i try my best to fit all of him in my mouth he doesn't give me much of a chance before thrusting himself down my throat completely.

i choke at the length, if the water wasn't showered down on me he'd see the tears falling from my eyes.

he continues fucking my throat without giving me any breaks. he looks down at me, "such a good girl, god y/n- feels s'good."

"nothing to say pretty girl?" he laughs, "fuck gonna take my cum like the good little slut you are?"

i nod my head with him still in my mouth.

he thrusts a few more times before pulling out and resting his dick on my tongue, cumming in my mouth.

"such a good little slut baby."

"chris please- need more"

he grabs my chin petting my face, "tell me what you want"

"want you inside me chris please"

"you got it ma." he smiles helping me up, he grabs my face and kisses me gently, "ive waited too long for this."

"me too."

he turns me around and smacks my ass, bending me over chris rubs his dick up and down my hole. "you ready ma?"

"yes chris please hurry-" im cut off completely by chris entering me with full force. "FUCK"

"shit ma you're so wet just for me, feel so good might cum already"

"chris harder- FUCK" he puts a hand on my shoulder and another on my waist getting a better grip.

"oh god baby you're so tight, you gonna cum for me?"

"yes yes ye- shit" i feel myself pulse around him "just like that chris fuck"

"cum all over me pretty girl, c'mon" and with that i release everything onto him, my legs shake as he continues to thrust inside of me sloppily.

just then he pulls out at loses it all over my ass and lower back. he spins me around again holding me up so i don't fall.

he gives me a peck on the lips, "you're so pretty."

"you're such a flirt."

"says you."

[ktaerssoi]

caught lacking

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: you get caught watching edits of paige.

notes: not proof read.

you had been getting edits of the team for a while, most of them were pretty cool and you liked to interact with the fans. that being said, some of the paige edits had you thinking about her more often.

you were in the weight room with ice, you had taken a little water break while she went off to finish some set. you hadn't noticed her walk over to you until you heard her laughing. you turn around quickly, shutting your phone off as you began to get flustered.

"it was on my for you page! it's not like i looked it up!" you were tryijng to defend yourself but you weren't helping much. "well your for you page is based off of things FOR YOU, so girl if you think paige is fine just come out and say it." ice smirks at you as you cross your arms, waiting to hear your confession.

"she's pretty yeah, but i wouldn't get with her. we're friends." you weren't even convincing yourself at this point, you knew you were in for it. "listen just please don't tell anyone else on the team, please."

because you have the best luck ever, paige, nika, and kk all walked into the weight room as you were speaking. your team was a nosy to say the least, so you weren't shocked when you heard "girl boo, i want to hear! you gotta tell me"

you shook your head at kk, sighing as you heard her start to complain about being out of the loop. you tense for a moment as you feel an arm around your shoulder but quickly relax when you realize its just paige, ice giving you a very obvious look.

kk, being the annoyingly observant idiot that she is gasps as she puts the pieces together. "finally!" paige and nika look over confused from the conversation they were having, and your face is paling considerably.

"kk bro shut up, its not what you think it is." you brush her off, going to focus back on whatever paige was talking about but she had taken her arm away confused. "wait what? i don't get it? what can't me a nika know?"

paige looks a tad betrayed, as if you holding information from her was a devastating loss. "it's nothing P, kk is just getting a head of herself." paige narrows her eyes at your excuse, not quite buying it.

"mhm okay," she goes back to whatever and it seems the topic is dropped.

-

a few days later you had gone out to dinner with the team, everyone had gotten up to get drinks but you, leaving you to entertain yourself for a minute or two. you pull out your phone, opening tiktok and seeing edits of paige and kate martin on your screen, scrolling for a little you find a weirdly entrancing edit of paige.

"hey, i know you said you didnt want a drink but i got you a dr. pepper.." paige's voice trails off as she notices clips of herself on your screen. you jump at the sound of her voice, causing you to drop your phone, the phone that it still playing once paige picks it up.

"i swear that was random, i almost never get those." you hurry to explain yourself, but are quickly cut off by paige. "dude, if you think i'm going to judge you based off the edits you watch of me, then yiou have never seen the ones of you. i mean seriously, you look good."

you nod at paige's words, a bit dumbfounded that the girl you had been slightly obsessing over just admitted to watching tiktok edits of you. "well, sounds like we should both get one of those privacy screen protectors." she laughs a little, nodding.

"also, um, sorry if this is weird but would you want to catch dinner some time? like just the two of us?? it doesn't have to be a date or anything," you cut paige out of her ramble, nodding as the team returned.

"sure P, just text me."

[strayseraphine]

I regret saying that I love you | one shot

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

summary: Being in a "more than friends less than a couple" relationship is hard for you, especially when the person you're with is one of the most wonderful you've ever met. Despite your best efforts, you can't handle it, so you make a heartbreaking decision. mostly angst, a bit of fluff in the end, hurt/comfort

3 426 words

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

This might not be the best what I have written, but I had to. I did it for myself to have a happy ending that I might not have in real life, I just had to get some tings off my chest.

choi san masterlist | general masterlist | stranger things masterlist

"What's up, dear?" San's voice broke the silence. His warm hand gently glided up and down your arm, fingertips barely touching it yet you felt as if they were leaving a burning trail behind. It burned as much as your throat tightened from the lump that grew and caused tears to fill your eyes. Despite how hard you tried to bear it all, despite how hard you tried to push your feelings aside...you couldn't handle it anymore. It was too strong.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now." You stood up and started picking up clothes from the floor. "I feel sick."

"Hey, in that case, you should stay, let me take care of you." he said grabbing your wrist. Although the room was dark, you could see the gentle pout on his face, which squeezed your heart even tighter. You snatched your wrist from his hand, dressed quickly, and left his apartment saying only a weak "sorry" goodbye.

Your phone didn't stop buzzing in the cab, you knew it was him, but you didn't dare answer it. When you entered your apartment, you saw 7 missed calls and even more messages you didn't read.

you: just entered the house, I'm going to bed. Good night.

After sending the message, you turned off the phone and immediately moved towards your bed, where you felt safe enough to finally let out the emotions that were tearing you apart from the inside. 

You sat on the big leather couch listening to the samples that Hongjoong planned to add to the new songs, you knew each other since childhood, he knew he could trust you, so before and during the debut and long after it you were always present in his life, you were like siblings to each other. This is how you met San. San, whose name appeared on your phone screen for the tenth time today. The memory of last night was still fresh and painful. You locked your phone and put it face down. Hongjoong stopped the music and looked at you with raised eyebrows.

"Have you suddenly become a billionaire or do these constant phone calls have to do with the San asking everyone if they know what you're doing and where you are?" he asked.

You didn't answer.

"y/n... we've known each other since forever, do you think I'm that stupid and blind not to notice that there's something between you two?" he didn't let go.

"I don't know what to tell you..." you said quietly looking at the floor. You knew that what was between you and a member of his group would not please him, because both you and San were like family to him. You didn't want to put him between a hammer and an anvil.

"I really don't want to pressure you, but-"

Hongjoong didn't have time to finish his sentence when San appeared in the doorway.

"y/n please talk to me," he said, ignoring the leader.

"I'll leave you two alone."

As the door closed behind your friend the atmosphere started to get too tense. Your heart was pounding like crazy and starting to hurt. The pain you felt was connected to the realization that this is the end. Everything is going to end right here and now.

San sat next to you on the couch, but did not look in your direction. He too was aware that today would not have its happy ending.

"What do you want to know?" you asked quietly.

"What's going on? Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" the questions came from his mouth awfully fast, you knew he had been thinking about them since the night before, you knew that, like you, he hadn't slept a wink through it, you knew he was worried, and that was killing you even more.

"I can't take it anymore San..." you said, interrupting his verbosity. "It's already too much for me. I thought I could handle it, that I was strong enough, but I can't. I can't do this anymore."

Hearing your breaking voice, his heart slowly began to break as well. He thought that what was between you gave you joy, but now he realized that he was also hurting you, and that was the last thing he wanted to do to you. "Talk to me please, we've always been able to talk about problems, it's something that makes us strong, remember? Our strength." He turned to face you. His eyes were filled with tears.

"Do you remember when we started to be much closer with each other?" you asked.

"Of course."

"Back then I thought a relationship was the last thing I wanted. I didn't feel ready, the very thought of letting someone close made me scared and uncomfortable. But then suddenly something changed between us. You showed me that not every guy in the world is a complete asshole. You made me feel accepted, not judged, appreciated, you made me feel loved, San. You were an amazing friend to me, and when we started spending more time together...when we listened to music together, played games together, watched anime and dramas, the way you devoted your free time to me made me feel important. Even when you were on the tour and we were hundreds of miles apart, our online conversations, falling asleep together with the stupid cam on, the way you started calling me all those pet names, writing good morning and good night messages, the way you didn't hide it and reminded me that you were thinking of me, that you liked looking at my pictures, when you reminded me that I was important to you..." You didn't know if each word brought you relief or more pain. "I don't even remember when our innocent hugging turned into all those kisses, and it went even further, it all happened so terribly fast, but I wanted it so badly... The worst part is that it wasn't just because of that that I fell in love with you, I fell in love with you seeing what a wonderful person you are, and that hurts me even more."

"Y/n... I thought we already talked about this..."

"I know we talked about it, but you wanted to hear everything."

"Okay, go on."

"You have a heart of gold, San. Sometimes too good, and in truth you deserve the best of everything. The goodness you have in you is huge, and I feel damn grateful to have you in my life, but there is one thing I regret."

"What?" He, too, was no longer able to hold back tears.

"I regret saying that I love you."

This sentence was like a powerful punch to his stomach. 

"Before I said anything you never held back your affection toward me, and since I did, I've noticed that it's much less, less often, and I can't stand how it hurts anymore. You gave me something beautiful, and then it was less and less..."

"y/n-"

"No. Maybe it's stupid but do you remember what bedtime messages from you looked like in the beginning? As time went on, you stopped using even silly hearts, and later you didn't even let me know if you were going to bed at all anymore. You know me San, you know that I pay attention to details, you know that I notice changes in behavior and you know how it affects me, so you know perfectly well that in your case, especially in your case, I won't miss it either."

"I'm sorry..."

"When I confessed to you how I felt and asked you who you thought we were, you said more than friends but less than a couple. And I agreed with you because that's what we are, but I can't do it anymore. Especially since I did it there are times when you don't respond to my affection. It hurts San, it hurts more than the rejection because I don't know what's going on, I feel lost at that point. I feel like the closer you get to know me the less you like me just don't know how to tell me. I feel like you were driven by a momentary fascination with me in the beginning and now it's slowly disappearing, but still, sometimes there are flashes. These flashes every time make me forget this awful feeling and I am happy again, I cling so terribly to these moments of closeness and warmth that you are able to give me... I understand your situation and I understand that you don't want to be in a relationship with me, but I can no longer maintain the kind of relationship we are in." San looked at you with pain in his eyes. His silence spoke more than a thousand words. "Y/n, I never wanted you to feel hurt," he said.

"That's not the point, San, I just can't live in uncertainty any longer. Sooner or later you'll find someone, and I won't be able to stand by and watch if I don't get rid of the feelings I have for you right now."

He lowered his gaze, and his shoulders slumped inertly. "I understand," he whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. I always wanted to be a support for you, someone you could count on."

"I appreciate that, I really do, and you were that person for me. You were a wonderful friend, but that's what happens when friends start acting like a couple without being one. You're a great person, San, and to be clear... I don't regret what happened between us, because you really opened my eyes in some aspects. The only thing I regret is that I wasn't able to keep my feelings secret, if it wasn't for that, your behavior wouldn't have changed and maybe somehow things would have turned out differently, maybe I would have been able to hold out longer, but the fact that you are aware of my feelings and we can't do anything about it is too hard for me to bear."

The silence between you was long and heavy. San finally raised his eyes "Can we still be just friends? I need you in my life y/n." he asked quietly. "I still have you in my heart."

"For this moment, no. I'm sorry."

"y/n, please don't leave-"

"I'm sorry." You said running out of the studio.

Days passed, and he felt increasingly lonely. He recalled every moment spent with you, your laughs together, your conversations, the nights spent on the webcam when you were far away from each other. He would give up a lot now to be able to call you and fall asleep seeing each other on the small cell phone screen. Every day without you was a void he couldn't fill. Your absence was like a wound that refused to heal. He tried to focus on his work, on his music, but everything seemed pointless. Every song he tried to write, every note he played, reminded him of you. He began to realize that his world was incomplete without you. He missed your presence, your smile, your voice, your warmth. 

He was sitting in his room, going through your old messages and shared photos. You were right - the further he scrolled, the fewer of them there were. 

San: You deserve someone who hugs you when you're down, who reciprocate your love language, who brushes your hair and appreciates you

San: I appreciate you so so much and you deserve every good thing coming your way

San: Communicating with you is really easy, being able to communicate and being understanding makes us strong 🩷 Overall I'm very happy with u and appreciate your personality a lot

San: Just know that you are loved, your feelings are valid, I appreciate you a lot and you get all the affection I could give 🩷 sleep tight and nice dreams only tonight!

San: Okay but since we gotta go I really want to finish this on a positive note, you're such a beautiful person with a pretty personality. I'm glad we got closer like this, I appreciate you so so much, you've become a comfort person for me, stay how you are 🩷 Good night and sleep tight, much love!

San: I’m thinking of you all the time 24/7, every day of the week

Why did he stop?

His feelings for you never changed, so why did he limit showing how important you are to him from the moment you confessed your feelings to him? The further he went, the more apparent it became that the effort put into your relationship appeared mostly on your part. His were sporadic, sudden, definitely not as frequent as in the beginning.  He could not understand it. After all, the realization that someone loved and missed him was filled with positive feelings, it was not scary for him, not when he thought of you. Maybe it was because he knew he couldn't give you what you wanted? That he couldn't give you more? But actually why couldn't he? After all, he wanted to. He wanted you to be his, he wanted to be yours, he wanted to remind you without restraint how important you were to him and hold you in his arms whenever he had the chance to do so.

Why couldn't he see earlier how much he loved you?

Slowly he began to analyze your entire relationship. With each memory, he began to realize that his feelings for you were deeper than he ever wanted to admit. All those moments when he thought he was just protecting you were actually moments when he was hiding his true feelings. You never had a problem reminding him that, according to you, he was a wonderful person, and ironically you couldn't see that wonderfulness in yourself.

You were always there for him when he needed you. When others turned away from him, you were always ready to listen to him and wipe away his tears. At times when disagreements arose between you, you were always able to talk about everything and clarify. He remembered how your words were able to comfort him, how your messages were something that made him feel not alone on the other side of the world.

you: I hope you are having sweet dreams right now, remember that you are a wonderful person with a heart of gold, you deserve to be happy, you deserve the best. You are loved and you are not alone, when you read this in the morning... have a happy Friday Sannie 🩷

you: remember that you are loved and you deserve everything what's best, nasty mood happens but it will pass, it is not permanent, I am here for you

Simple words. However, he knew that they always came straight from your heart, that they were sincere and genuine. They were the ones that always made his heart wrap itself in pleasant warmth. You also deserved such messages, and the fact that he stopped writing them to you even when you needed them made him feel even worse. He let you down, somewhere along the way he stopped showing how he felt thinking it was obvious, but even if it was obvious, that was no reason to stop showing it. 

Now that he lost you, he couldn't stop thinking about how your laughter filled his heart with joy. Every small gesture, every warm word - all of it reminded him how special you were and how much it hurt him not to have you.

He realized that his fears and anxieties were irrational. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted, but in reality, it was you who gave him more than he could ever imagine. Your love and devotion were priceless. However, sometimes we fail to appreciate the treasure we have unless we lose it.

San sat in his room, looking at his phone, which still lay idle in his hand. He stared at the black screen hoping that your name would immediately appear on the screen. He felt overwhelmed with emotion and helplessness. 

"San, you need to pull yourself together," Hongjoong said one evening as they sat in the studio. "It can't keep going on like this."

He shrugged his shoulders without raising his eyes. "It's okay, I just need some time." Pretending to handle the situation was becoming increasingly difficult for him.

"It's not just 'some time,'" Wooyoung said. "You're shutting yourself away, avoiding everyone, and it's clear that this situation is wearing you down."

San finally raised his gaze, and his eyes were full of pain. "It's too late now. I have destroyed everything. I wanted the best for her, and instead I broke her heart."

Yunho, who was always a good listener, put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe it's not too late. You need to talk to her. If you love her, you have to give yourself one last chance, everything can be fixed."

"I failed her." he whispered.

Jongho interjected firmly. "Everyone makes mistakes, San. But true love deserves to be fought for. Think about how much y/n means to you. Do you really want to lose her because you're afraid? Do you remember how many times she fought for you? When you were having worse times and she sensed that you might be drifting apart? Then she always fought to make sure it didn't happen, now it's your turn."

"Now the situation is different..."

"Bullshit." Hongjoong interjected. "I didn't like the idea of you two together, but what happens when you're apart is even worse. Y/n doesn't deserve a part of your heart, she deserves it and you in full, if you know you are able to give it to her, if you want to give it to her, do something about it. Do something before it's too late."

A few days later, San gathered his courage. He went to your apartment, ready to be honest. When he stood in front of your door, his heart was beating like crazy. He pressed the bell and waited, feeling how every second seemed like an eternity. You opened the door, and your surprise was obvious. "San? What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk, y/n," he said, looking you straight in the eye. "Please, give me a moment to explain."

You invited him inside, and he sat down on the couch, feeling the tension rising. "I realized that I love you, but I was afraid of this feeling. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you wanted. But now I know that I want to be with you. I want to give you everything I have. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. Please give me one more chance."

"San..."

"I am so sorry, y/n."

"San, I need to know that you can be honest and open about our feelings. I need to know that you are sure of what you are saying."

He took your hands in his, looking deeply into your eyes. "I promise I will be. I want us to build our future together. I love you, y/n, and I never want to lose you again. I know it won't be easy, but I want to try. I am more than sure of it, y/n, you are worth it, you are worth everything."

You were silent for a moment, listening to him with mixed emotions in your heart. His words sounded sincere however, you could not forget the pain you had experienced, but at the same time you saw and appreciated how hard San was trying to explain his feelings.

"San... It was very difficult for me. I thought I had lost you forever."

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't want you to suffer. I was a coward because I was afraid I wasn't ready for the kind of relationship you deserve."

You nodded, trying to deal with your emotions. "I still love you, Sannie." you whispered after a moment.

He lifted your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. "I promise to try to be better for you."

You took his face in your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks with your thumbs, then moved closer to him and rested your forehead against his. "Just be yourself."

A slight smile appeared on his face, and a moment later his lips found yours. Finally, everything was in the right place.

[m1sa-w1sa]

Can you do another S/O is a Dark lord reincarnated but with other Lumine and Archons like Ei, Zhongi, and Nahida? I'm curious what the Archons would think the one they love is the dark lord they destroyed all those years ago reincarnated but they are not aware of their past life.

(Ty for the first request of the day annon! This is mostly angst becuase i was feeling a bit silly but i did a little fluff for nahida TW: SUICIDE, DEATH/EXECUTION)

Sheep in Wolfs clothing

Lumine

•When she found out your past life was the dark lord she was schocked

•Paimon said that you to should break up for the greater good but She thinks she should ask you first

•”I dont know what your talking about! Theres no way!” You responded but lumine didnt believe you

•She thought you were lying so she did what was best for her left you, you tried to reason with lumine but she didnt listen just pushing you away leaving you with your tears on your face

•Finally when she realizes what shes done she doesnt know what to do, she just cut off the person that helped her through her adventures, made her smile, laugh, happy and becuase of her choice your gone now

“Im sorry [NAME]..”

Raiden Ei

•She jumped to conclusions quick, what if you were plotting against her? You were USING her so you can trap the whole world into darkness were you?!

•She confronted you as soon as she found out, when you said you aren’t familiar on what she means she did that believe you

•She had Hatamotos (Inazuma Guards) take you away saying the 5 worfd that broke your heart

“Your execution is tomorrow, traitor”

•You pleaded trying to get her to understand but she would just turn away blinded by her pride

•The day came, you were in front of everyone you were trembling in fear as everyone was booing you throwing things at you, but Raiden didnt care you were the traitor, right?

•Raiden walked up behind you her blade raising into the air

“Any last words?”

“I love you—“

•right agter those words you would fall to the ground, a lifeless body as everyone was cheering and happy! Raiden should be to.. shouldnt she?•

•She was angry at herself, not only she killed the person that LOVED HER she will never feel her touch, her lips against hers, arms rapped around her, hands through her head She realized it was her doing..

“Please [NAME] in another life..forgive me”

Zhongli

•He most likely found out through Xiao or Ganyu so when he did he was conflicted on what to do

•Ganyu said he should keep you close to make sure nothing happens, but Xiao thinks he should banish you

•So zhongli picked, you HAD to go

•He confronted you about it and you said you didnt know, thats what made him want to kick you out more

“You were using this whole time werent you”

•He wasnt going to kick you out just then in there, no.. he was going to make everyone look at you there stares were in disgust, telling at you

“DISGRACE!”

“MONSTER”

“YOU WHORE”

•You walked out of there in shame having no where to go then one place

•Zhongli had thought he had done the right thing for liyue, Yes, he didnt want you, a traitor to put it into darkness again! Well thats what ye thought until he saw your body hanging from a tree lifeless and a tear stained face

“Darling..Oh my sweet sweet darling.. Im so sorry”

Nahida

•She first found out by reading a book, the looks, features.. hair, smile, hands, body all looked the same

•So of course she didnt jump to conclusions and she asked you first you saying you didnt know gave her peace

•She kept that a secret so no one else could harm you but she also reads your mind from time to time but there isnt any indication that you remember anything

“Its ok Dear! Im not mad!”

(Finished!! Hope you enjoyed!)

[kenposting]

New Guy

Summary: Short & sweet; Ken is the new guy at your work - somewhere he keeps calling the ‘real world’. You don’t get that, but what’s new, he never really makes any sense. 

WC: 2.2k

AN: (Insert crying emoji) thank you for all the kind comments on the last Ken brainrot story I wrote omg!!! I just like him... did nawt expect all that. A small part of this was very loosely inspired after reading a blurb by @ideas-live-forever where Ken doesn’t like a latte. Its very cute and you can read it here!

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You wished you had words to describe him, really. I mean, how many times could you redirect the conversation away from the two of you? Your friends, roomates, classmates, even your family – they all picked up on your recent busy schedule. You were seeing someone, and that someone came off as incredibly alluring and mysterious to them after your hesitance in explaining. 

Ken was not alluring, let alone mysterious. Bless his heart, he was a bit dense actually. You didn’t want to tell people about him - not out of embarrassment, but out of protection for him. This world was a lot different from the one he claimed to be from… another piece of him you didn’t quite understand. You chalked it up to at best a joke or some weird pick up line (him saying he was from “out of this world”) and at worst an actual delusion, but you didn’t mind it. You found it kind of charming. 

You still remember when you first heard about him. There was a new guy at work and your coworkers were laughing about some of the answers he gave on his job interview. You felt a little bad, knowing his answers should’ve been kept confidential, but you couldn’t help but laugh when you overheard them. 

“No, yeah he literally said his last job was ‘beach’. Not lifeguard, not pool attendant, not national park ranger, not even the beach, just beach.” 

You laughed a little to yourself, finishing wiping down one of the tables. You had a morning shift today, like most days, but you wouldn't be open for a little while. You had time to listen. 

“I don’t know, man. At least he can wash a mean dish.” 

They weren’t laughing with him, but rather at him. It did make you a bit sad. He sounded hilarious, honestly. It was probably just a bit that he took too seriously. After all, a job interview isn’t always the best place to joke around like that. 

A metallic ding rang through the restaurant as the door swung open. You looked up to be met with quite the character. He was tall, probably around 6’3” or 6’4”, and tan. Must've been all that time at beach. His stature was broad and his shoulders barely fit through the doorframe. He was dressed in the same uniform you were, except his yellow diner ringer tee was tucked in to a pair of light blue cuffed jeans, paired with white tennis sneakers and white crew socks. He was blonde, clearly by choice, not birth, and he stood with a clean dishtowel draped over his left shoulder. He looked like he just stepped out of an 80’s back-to-school Target ad. 

“Morning, Ken.” 

“Morning! Thank you for the opportunity to work here! So cool…” 

You smiled to yourself, grabbing menus to set out on each table. He looked just as odd as he everyone made him out to be. 

Prep duty was your given task for this morning. Since you typically worked an opening shift before school, you only had to wait tables until 2pm. Doors didn’t open until 9am, so that left you three hours to cut vegetables and fruit while you supervised the new guy. 

“Hey, my office please.” 

Your boss beckoned you, explaining what Ken’s tasks were so you could keep an eye on him. 

“He’ll probably keep to himself, honestly. He seems nervous, but he’s glad to work here. I don’t really… get him.” 

“What do you mean, sir?” 

You boss sighed and shook his head, searching for a way to explain everything. 

“When I asked him about previous employment he just said he worked at ‘beach’ and that he was 'very good at it'. His references were all listed under the name name… his name. Ken. I kept asking if he was, like, a lifeguard or something and why everyone he’s worked for was also named Ken. He just kept repeating, ‘no, sir, just beach,’ and ‘I’m not sure I understand, sir, is your name not Ken too?’ like that made any sense.” 

Air quotes punctuated the absurdity of the whole thing. 

You bit the inside of your lip, stifling a laugh. This guy was wither a genius or actually insane. 

“Anyways…” he trailed off. “He didn’t have much more to say about work, but he said he was in town to study – of course, without any documentation. I guess you don’t need a diploma to wash dishes.” 

Ken did keep to himself mostly, but you could tell he took his job incredibly seriously. His brows furrowed while washing the plates from last night’s dinner rush. He wanted to be good at this, you could tell. You wondered if he took beach the same way, like his life depended on it. 

The day went by quickly. All the girls – and Ken – got off at the same time, switching aprons as the evening crew trickled in. 

“Wanna come to the bar with us tonight? It’s half-price on Tuesdays!” 

You smiled at the offer, but respectfully declined. 

“I’ve got homework, but maybe next time!” 

They sighed, saying you were no fun, waving to you as they all left together. You stayed behind to count and divide the tips. So did Ken, for some reason. 

“You can go home whenever you’re ready, Ken. Good job today.” 

You pretended not to notice his ears perk at your compliment. He was blushing, like… actually blushing. 

“Oh, thank you.” 

He sounded surprised, like he hadn’t ever been told he did well before. 

“What are you doing now?” 

You looked up at him. He was actually quite handsome up close. You both had your backs turned to each other most of the day so you didn’t get a chance to notice. 

His eagerness to learn was also attractive. He wasn’t handsy or gross or trying to hit on you like some of the previous employees you’ve worked with. He was kind and appeared genuine. 

“I’m counting the tip jar from this morning so I can divide the tips between all the morning waitresses. Each of them get their own tips on the bills or in cash, but the ones in the jar are kind of random, so we split all of those. We count morning separately so whatever the evening crew makes can be divided amongst themselves, in case they were busier or slower than us. Its fair that way. You get some too.” 

He looked like you just told him his childhood home caught fire. He was just bewildered at the concept. 

“I get some? But I already got paid for today, they said I’d get it on my 'check' in two weeks.” 

He did not know what a check was. You smiled to yourself, still deciding on wether he was being smart with you or if he was just inexperienced in the world. 

“Yeah, see? 20, 40, 60, 80, 100 in 20s, then 110, 120, 130, 140 in 10s. I already counted the fives – 145, 150, 155, 160, 165, 170, 175, 180, 185 there – and ones, so 186, 7, 8 ,9, 90, 91, 2, 3, 4 ,5, 6, 7, so that’s 197, divided by the staff is $32.83 each.” 

He did not get it at all. He nodded hesitantly, hoping to convince you he understood you just fine. You were explaining it like he should know this, afterall, and he felt kind of insecure that he didn’t get it. You didn’t mean to hurt his feelings and he knew that, but he was just more sensitive than most. 

“So I take it you didn’t make any tips at ‘beach’?” 

He shook his head, answering with complete seriousness. 

“No. We didn’t have money at all, actually.” 

He was always like that. It had been a couple of months now since he started with you. Every day he said something weirder than the day before. Just like today, when he asked if you were doing anything after work. You said homework, as per usual, and watched him panic, replying with, “Oh yeah... me too actually…”

“Yeah? You’re in school?” 

He nodded, another serious look on his face. He had forgotten about homework for a while now. They didn’t have homework in Barbieland. 

The thought alone of this man in a classroom was enough to have you laughing. Sure, he was smart and charming and handsome and good at his job and personable and kind and… lots of other things you didn’t want to admit, but he didn’t strike you as someone that would thrive in an academic environment. 

You took him out for drinks that afternoon. It was a small cafe that also served daydrinks, like mimosas or sangrias. It was a comfortable and safe environment, which was welcome, as today’s assignment was complicated even for you. Who knows why you took organic chemistry as your major. You hated chemistry. Everyone hated chemistry. 

You felt him watching you attentively, like he was checking if you might’ve needed anything. 

“What’s your homework on?” 

He was gentle in his approach. He liked you. 

You looked at him. He truly wanted to know, it wasn’t just small talk. 

You explained it as best at you could, truly, but he looked like he was about to cry, like it physically hurt his brain. Changing the subject, you asked what he was studying. 

“I’m majoring in Patriarchy and minoring in Horses and Beach.” 

You didn’t ask more. He was dead serious, too. He really was highlighitng and placing index notes on a book about horses. Stacked in his (pale yellow) backpack (with tiny embroidered flowers) were heavy textbooks, though, so he must've been studying something. Maybe this was part of the joke. After looking over his course catalogue to help him figure out assignment priority based on credit weights, you saw he was majoring in Gender Studies and minoring in Equine Science and Marine Biology. So yes, patriarchy, horses, and beach. 

The waitress stopped by your table and he panicked again, ordering the same thing as you. A little while later, two Espresso Martinis arrived. You sipped the drink casually, focused on your assignment. 

He didn’t mind it when you weren’t focused on him. He enjoyed your company, even in the quiet. He never felt like you were laughing at him. It was more like you found him funny, but in a nice way. He liked that about you. He liked all of you, actually. 

“Oh, wow!”

He had a sort of outburst that startled you from whatever it was you were reading. You couldn’t remember actually, the look on his face made you forget what you had just read. 

“Oh my gosh, that is terrible!!” 

He spoke in an elevated whisper, careful to not offend the workers. 

“Why does it hurt, is something wrong with it??” 

You covered your mouth to keep from laughing at him. He looked truly horrified. 

“Have you never had anything with alcohol in it before? I thought you were, like, what, 24? 25? Aren’t you in college?” 

“I don’t even have an age – wow, I’m so sorry, that is so bad.” 

He was so weird. So so weird. But you really liked that about him actually. He was sweet about everything and very kind and thoughtful, too. 

He clearly hated his drink but finished it anyway, probably out of courtesy. His face crumpled a bit every time he had to wash a dish that had a lot of food leftover. It was like he felt great sorrow for the chef – that their work wasn’t good enough for the customer, and they tried really hard, so that made him sad. 

Oddly enough, he put a $20 in the tip jar on the way out, shrugging when you asked him about it. He said sure, he didn’t like it, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault. He was grateful they ‘took good care of him’. He was just repeating what he’d heard other diner guests say when they tipped. He was so cute. 

You walked him home. He insisted on the other way around, but he was tipsy and didn’t really know what to do about it, hiccupping and catching his balance. He wasn’t frightened or anything, reassuring you he’d ‘seen this in the movies before’. You assumed he was referring to knowing what it’s like to be inebriated. Still, all this after only one drink, and a stereotypically girly one at that. 

“Thank you for walking me home and helping me with homework and letting me hang out with you today!” 

You smiled, nodding your head. 

“Sure, Ken. Do you work tomorrow?” 

He nodded excitedly, standing in a salute-like pose. 

“Sure do! I’m gonna wash the hell out of some dishes.” 

Cursing, although incredibly light for him, was something he told you he was learning to do since he was now ‘in the real world’. You didn't understand that, like most things about him, but you were excited to see him tomorrow nonetheless. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀⋆˚✿˖°⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

For more Kenpostings I’ve written, click here.

For part two, click here!

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3

Covered in scars and left totally numb by your abusive previous owner, you’re considered an “unsellable doll”. That is, until the Doll House takes you in and Sukuna becomes your trainer.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Sukuna’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m not keeping the same tag list as before, since this part deals with darker themes. I will resume the tag list after Sukuna’s part is finished! So if you want to be tagged in this one, please specify! 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. BDSM. Erotic Torture. Bondage. Extremely rough/violent sex. Slapping. Reader is covered in scars. Everything that happens between Sukuna and Reader is consensual but there is mention of abuse by a previous owner. Divider by @benkeibear!

On the third week of your training, Sukuna invites you to join him in the dining hall for dinner. He’s never done this before, and you’ve never even been to the dining hall at meal times yet. 

As your emotions slowly return to you, you’re starting to understand why his previous dolls made the choice to have meals in his room. It’s not so easy to face a room full of people who have been listening to your cries of pain and pleasure. Two weeks ago, you had zero shame and didn’t care at all. Now, you feel your face heating up at the thought. 

“You don’t have to join me,” he tells you, his tattooed, muscular body draped across his bed while you stand at his dresser. “It’s your choice.”

“I will,” you say, deciding on the spot. You think you’d regret not going more than you would going. 

Sukuna smiles and sits up. “Good. Wear the dress I bought for you.”

You can’t contain a grimace. He wants you to wear that little thing? To the dining hall? But he’s never directly told you to do anything outside of the training sessions, so you hate to deny him now. 

After pulling it out of the closet, you try the dress on. Since it’s strapless, you have to remove your bra to wear it. Sukuna watches you tug and pull on the fabric, trying to get it situated on your body. You’ve never worn something like this before. He laughs before walking over to zip up the back for you, then he leads you over to a full length mirror in the corner and stands behind you as you look at your reflection. 

“It’s too short,” you say, noticing the split on the left side that reveals your scarred hip. The scars on your shoulder, arm, and neck are also prominently visible. “Everyone will stare at my scars. They’ll lose their appetites.”

Sukuna puts his hand on your left shoulder, right on the scars, and slowly rubs it down. You can still feel his touch, whether you’re in a training session or not. It still feels marvelous. 

“If anyone stares at you, it’s a compliment. It means you’ve captured their attention, that you’re interesting,” he tells you. “The most valuable trait a human can possess is being interesting.”

You lower your eyes, looking at your own feet in the mirror. They’re the only part of you that’s not scarred in some way. “You don’t think… they’re disgusting?” you ask, gesturing to the scars. 

His hand moves to your hip, sliding beneath the slit in your dress. “They’re beautiful,” he says, his mouth close to your ear, his eyes burning into yours in the reflection. He rubs over the scarred flesh, seeming to love the way it feels beneath his fingertips. 

Before things get too heated, the two of you finish getting ready and walk to the dining hall. It’s already full of people, some of them sitting at tables and some filling plates at the food table. You recognize the two men you spoke to in the kitchen, each with their own doll this time. You’re a bit shocked when you realize the doll sitting beside the long haired man is completely naked, at least as far down as you can see.  With your newly awakened emotions, you feel embarrassed just looking at her. 

The doll with the white haired man might have it even worse. She’s on her knees on the floor beside his seat, a leash extending from her neck to his hand. She’s wearing a bizarre bikini type outfit and… is that a tail? 

Suddenly you don’t feel like you stand out so much. 

It’s a short-lived feeling. 

Once the other trainers and dolls begin noticing you, a hush falls over the room. Just like you predicted, everyone is staring at you. But no one looks disgusted. They only look surprised. 

“Have you ever brought a doll to the dining hall with you?” you ask Sukuna as the two of you make your way to the food table. 

“Never,” he says, flashing you a grin as he hands you a plate. 

You glance out over the sea of eyes on you. “So, they’re probably more surprised by me being here at all than by my scars.”

“I would assume so.”

You want to ask him why he brought you, and no other doll before you, but you don’t think it’s the right time or place for that question. So you move quietly down the table, filling your plate, and then sit down at a table with Sukuna. 

By this point, everyone else has returned their attention to their own meals, or their own dining companions. You notice a few glances being tossed your way, but it feels more like curiosity than gawking. One of the other dolls even smiles and waves at you. Not knowing what else to do, you awkwardly wave back. Are dolls allowed to interact with each other? It probably depends on their trainer. 

The food is the same as what you’ve been eating all along, but it somehow feels different here in the dining hall. It tastes better, seems a bit fancier. Even the strawberries you put on your plate for dessert taste luxurious. After you take a bite from one, Sukuna reaches over and takes it from your hand, then puts the rest of it in his mouth. 

At the next table over, the white haired man is watching with a look of shock. Sukuna grins at him, then leans over and kisses you. A few of the other trainers look stunned. Sukuna is clearly enjoying the reactions he’s getting, as he laughs and pulls you closer, feeding you another strawberry from your plate. 

You realize he’s being so affectionate because it disturbs the others, but you’re enjoying it all the same. You feel yourself becoming flushed and heated as his thumb presses a small strawberry into your mouth and then grazes over your lips. Suddenly you want him, more fiercely than you ever have before. You want his touch all over your body, you want him inside you. 

“C-can we go back to your room now?” you ask him, a tremor in your voice. 

He looks at you, at your face, and immediately understands. A smile spreads over his face, smug and self satisfied. Then he stands up and takes your hand, escorting you back to his room as if he were a gentleman. 

You barely get inside and shut the door before he’s on you. His hands are quickly pulling the top half of your dress down and hiking the bottom half up, so that it’s just a strip of wadded black fabric around your waist. Your panties are gone before you even realize it, and he’s got one hand between your thighs and the other groping your scarred breast while he kisses your neck from behind. 

It’s never been like this before. There’s usually so much prep involved, with harnesses or ropes or tools. But now, it’s like he can’t wait for all that. He has to have you now. There’s an animalistic quality to the way he’s manhandling you, not letting you forget that his specialty is pain. He’s rough with you, his hands bruising with their grip, his teeth biting into your shoulder. He throws you to the floor, temporarily knocking the wind out of you. He pulls off his shirt and opens his pants, then crawls on top of you. 

With one hand he pins your wrists above your head, using his knees to shove your legs apart. He looks you in the eyes, then smirks.  “Are you afraid of me?”

You don’t know why he’s asking that. What sort of expression are you wearing right now to give him that idea? “No,” you say. 

He leans down close and runs his tongue over the scarred side of your face, and that’s when you realize there are tears leaking out of your eyes. You don’t know why. 

“You should be,” he says in his smooth voice. “I want to devour you.”

He releases your wrists, but his hand moves to your throat instead, where it suddenly tightens. It hurts, and you can’t breathe. At the same moment, you feel his cock shove into you, hard and fast, all the way in. He holds your neck, choking you, until you feel like you might pass out. Your hands are free. You can use the safe gesture if you want, but you trust Sukuna. Before you lose consciousness, he releases you. Gasping and coughing, you look up at him with frantic eyes. 

Sukuna slaps you, his open palm  striking your face, leaving your unscarred cheek stinging. Then, while you’re still trying to catch your breath, he covers your mouth with his own, plunging his tongue into your mouth. His thrusts become slower, but deeper and harder, slamming into you with such force that it lifts your body from the floor. One of his hands is squeezing your breast so hard, you think he might crush it. 

You’ve never been fucked so violently before, but you’re on the edge of climaxing already. Everything hurts, you’re crying and shaking, but feeling Sukuna’s hunger for you is the most arousing thing in the world. He breaks the kiss, letting you sharply inhale deep breaths between hiccuping sobs, and quickly bites into your neck. You feel his teeth break the skin, feel his hand slide down between your bodies and harshly pinch your clit between his finger and thumb, and that’s your limit. 

The orgasm absolutely wracks your body, turning you into a weeping, quivering mess beneath him. He doesn’t stop ramming into you until he reaches his own limit. He pulls out suddenly and moves up, shooting his cum all over your crying face. The warm liquid drips over your eyes and lips. You open your mouth to let some of it slide inside. 

He grins down at you as he lightly strokes his cock, keeping it hard. Where does he get the stamina? “Don’t pass out yet,” he says. “We’re far from finished.”

You spend the rest of the evening being roughly fucked, your body tossed around and used for his pleasure. When it’s over, you’re covered in bruises and bloody bite marks, looking as if you were brutally assaulted. Your face is slightly swollen from being slapped, your pussy sore from his violent thrusts. He helped you bathe then carried you to bed, and now he’s laying beside you, his fingers gently stroking your arm. 

Looking at him now, you finally understand why you were crying earlier. It’s because you’re starting to have feelings for him that you know you can’t have. He’s your trainer, and beyond that, he’s not the kind of man who would ever return those feelings. You’re well aware of that. So it hurts, feeling this way. If you’d known you were going to fall for him, you would have preferred to just stay numb. 

But it’s too late now. 

“I’m going out tomorrow,” he says, pulling your body closer to his.

You nod, appreciating that he always tells you the night before, so you don’t wake up wondering where he is. You fall asleep in his arms, lulled by sound of his quiet breathing. 

When you wake up, Sukuna is walking through the door. The sound of it must have stirred you from sleep. He looks surprised to see you still in bed. 

“Sleeping in?” he asks, closing the door behind him. 

You pull back the covers and climb out of bed, stretching as you walk over to him. You wince and hiss as the soreness from yesterday’s activities attacks your body. Sukuna looks you up and down appreciatively, as if he enjoys the sight of all those bruises and marks.  

“I guess yesterday wore me out,” you say, then you quickly change the subject. “You weren’t gone long.”

“I had to go get something,” he says, a hint of a smile on his face as he reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He holds it out to you, and tears immediately fill your eyes. 

It’s your locket. The one your mother gave to you shortly before she died, the one your previous owner took from you. When you reach up to take it, you notice that Sukuna’s knuckles are bruised and bloody. 

“How?” you ask, cradling the necklace in your hands. 

Sukuna grins. “Oh he was happy to give it to me after I had a little chat with him.”

You can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. You hand the necklace back to him and turn around. “Can you…?”

He steps closer and lowers the necklace over your head, around your neck, then clasps it at the back. His hands move to your shoulders and slide down your arms. You feel a shiver of pleasure at his touch. “Thank you,” you tell him, wiping your eyes. 

***********************

It’s a week later, the fourth week of training, when the owner calls Sukuna and his doll into her office. She seems to be in a good mood as the two of them sit down. 

“We have a potential buyer who wants to meet with you,” the owner says to the doll. “He’s got an impeccable record. An older gentleman in his late 40’s. He’s owned one doll before. We contacted her and she said he treated her well during her ten year stay with him. She had no complaints and even considers him a friend.”

Sukuna’s eyes shift to his doll, eager to see what she thinks of this news. Her face is almost completely blank, the sort of expression she wore when she first got here. 

“Will you meet with him?” the owner asks. 

His doll is silent for a moment, then she glances at Sukuna. Is she waiting for his opinion? After it becomes clear that he has nothing to say, his doll slowly nods her head. “I can meet him.”

“Fantastic. I’ll set things up,” the owner says, then dismisses them. 

In the hall, his doll is even more quiet than usual. She walks beside him, the silver locket around her neck occasionally catching the light as she moves. She stops suddenly when they’re close to his door. 

“Do you think I’m ready?”

He looks back at her. She’s staring at him with those big wet eyes. She obviously wants some specific answer from him. She wants to know how he feels about this. 

But… he feels nothing. She’s a doll he’s training. He enjoys them thoroughly for six weeks and then passes them along. At least she’s not crying and making a scene like some of his past dolls do. No, she’s too guarded for that. Even with her emotions back, she still keeps her feeling in check. He likes that about her. 

“Maybe not right now,” he tells her, “but before the six weeks are up, you will be. I’ll make certain of it.”

She lowers her eyes and says, “Thank you.” It’s a phrase she’s said to him numerous times before, and he’s always been struck by how sincere it seemed. This time it’s different. The words feel hollow, and that in itself makes Sukuna feel… annoyed? No, that’s not the right emotion. He’s not sure what it is, but it’s unpleasant. 

A few days later, the first meeting between his doll and the potential buyer occurs. The man is tall, well dressed, and (by Sukuna’s estimation) attractive for a man his age. He’s polite and soft spoken, having no reaction to the doll’s scars and acting as if he didn’t even notice them. In some ways, he reminds Sukuna of an older Nanami. 

The doll is polite in return, answering the man’s vague, noninvasive questions with a smile. 

But Sukuna enjoys stirring pots way too much to remain silent during the meeting, so he speaks up, addressing the buyer. 

“If you’re interested in a doll I’m training, you must be into some very specific things,” Sukuna says, a smile on his lips. “Are you more into torturing her, or just tying her up while you have your way with her?”

His doll looks shocked by the question, her face heating up in embarrassment. The buyer, however, looks calm and collected. “Oh, I dabble in things of that nature,” he says smoothly, “but only when it’s consensual and pleasing for both parties. I’m assuming a doll trained by you would be an enthusiastic enjoyer of such things.”

Sukuna’s smile fades. He doesn’t know why, but he finds this buyer irritating.

Once the meeting is over, he asks his doll what she thought of the man. 

“He seemed nice,” she says, though there is zero emotion in her voice as she says it. Her answer leaves Sukuna wondering what she really thinks, how she really feels. 

And that, in turn, leaves Sukuna wondering why he cares.

He decides to stop thinking about it. He has nearly two more weeks with her, and there’s so many fun and painful things he intends to do to her before she leaves. 

Tag List: 

@akaotv @khaleesihavilliard @issracollen @maflorex @dabislittlemouse @siriusdumblittlepuppy @collectionofdolls @butterskyy @missthatgirl

[scaredpigeons]

Aqua Regia I: cutting through the darkness, bouncing off the walls.

Next chapter

Neuvillette x fem!reader

Word count: 2.2k

You become the assistant to the new ruler of Fontaine. (Set after the Fontaine archon quests, so spoilers if you haven’t already done it.)

Authors note: its finally here! I’ve separated it into chapters out for ease of reading. It should all be up within the next week or so. This is mostly sfw, a little suggestive at times, but the final chapter will contain nsfw content. Series name and chapter titles are from my literal favourite song ever, aqua regia by sleep token. It’s a very fitting song for this story. Enjoy!

———————————

The sun had not even reached its peak in the sky, dew still glistening on the cypress trees in the gardens outside, and already Neuvillette was pinching his brow, eyes feeling heavy as he slaved over the seemingly endless pile of paperwork that was stacked upon his desk. 

Sedene entered his office without knocking, a common occurrence, and one that never bothered him before— only worrying him now because he didn’t want her to see the way his shoulders slumped slightly— an incredibly unprofessional posture. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette, your 10 o’clock appointment has arrived.” She said, eyeing him from her spot in the doorway. 

He nearly jumped, but kept his calm facade as he shuffled around the papers on his desk, looking for his schedule for the day, but it seemed it was lost to the void of unfinished work he was drowning in. 

“My apologies, Sedene, I seem to have misplaced the itinerary I had written out for the day, would you remind me who it is I am meeting with?”

Sedene smiled, her eyes soft. “It’s Miss Charlotte, from The Steambird. You agreed to an interview with her last week, Your Honor.” 

“Sedene, please,” Neuvillette sighed, though his tone remained light and pleasant. “The formal honorifics outside of the courtroom are far from necessary.”

“Alright, sir.” The melusine smiled. “Shall I send her in?” 

Neuvillette tried to right himself, stacking his finished documents and unfinished work in separate piles to seem organized, though he would probably regret it later. 

“Yes, please.” He said. “And if you have the time, perhaps some tea? I’m sure she’ll be here for a good while.” 

Sedene nodded, turning to leave, before the Iudex called out to her again. “Sedene?” 

“Yes, sir?” 

“I believe…” he let the tension fall from his shoulders finally, giving up on trying to hide his weariness from her. “I believe I’m in need of some aid, if I am to continue this way.” 

Sedene just hid a chuckle behind her soft hand. “Perhaps you should ask Miss Charlotte to put an ad in the newspaper?”

With his final acceptance of his situation, he nodded. “Perhaps.” 

—————

“—And then I told him that there was no need, I had the perfect candidate in mind, and if he did not like you, then I would put the ad in the paper— although I told him there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t completely adore you altogether.” 

You listened to your friend talk animatedly, finally hearing her take a breath without continuing her thought. You certainly loved Charlotte, but conversations about things like work and her other passions tended to be relatively one-sided. 

“I’m sorry, just to reiterate, you personally recommended me to the chief justice for a position as his personal assistant?” 

“Of course! You were a PA at the steambird for so long, and you did so well there, everyone loved you!” She grinned, taking another sip of her tea. 

The café was rather packed today, and your macarons sat perfectly stacked in a cute pile on your plate. Your favourite desert by far, and café Lutece’s were second only to the treats made by Miss Navia herself. 

“Yes, but that was the Steambird.” You said, tracing a finger over the delicate shell of the top macaron on the pile. “We’re talking about the chief justice here— the new ruler of Fontaine— how are we even supposed to address him now?” 

You started to panic a little, not used to interacting with nobility, let alone the person of the highest social status in all of Fontaine— overlooking the love the citizens still held for lady Furina, of course. 

“I’m not sure, but you’ll get to ask him tomorrow!” Charlotte exclaimed, making you gawk at her. “I knew you were free so I arranged a meeting for you tomorrow at noon! Isn’t it exciting?” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach, then did a couple loops around there before it lurched into your throat. 

“Charlotte! I really appreciate you doing this for me, but I am woefully underprepared for this? What am I supposed to do? What will I even wear? Do I need to bring a resume? List of references? What—“

“Woah, woah,” Charlotte reached across the table, running a soothing hand down your forearm. “It’s not that serious, he’d just like to meet you over some tea at the Palais. He’s not all that intimidating after you meet him, hun. I promise you I wouldn’t have put you up to this if I wasn’t one hundred percent confident in you.” 

Your breathing settled a bit as she comforted you, though your mind was still racing. 

“You’ve got this in the bag.” Charlotte smiled, and you hoped she was right. 

——————

You smoothed your hands over your skirt nervously as you made your way to the steps outside the Palais Mermonia.

You wore the nicest outfit you owned that didn’t stray into formal wear territory, not that you had many dresses of that caliber. 

A dress, cut just above the knee, a beautiful deep blue color. A matching ribbon tied around the collar of the white puff sleeved undershirt, and a navy waistcoat cinched tightly in the back with a bow. Paired with your nicest stockings and a lovely pair of boots that Miss Navia had gotten you last year for your birthday, you looked every bit the part of an upper class citizen of Fontaine. 

Your insecurities ate at you, but you fixed a stray hair and smiled at the cute little dog dressed in a guard uniform that was trotting outside the lift. You were on high alert, but seeing everyone standing around, acting normally, enjoying the sunshine— well that made it seem a little better. 

You greeted Liath as she skipped around the entrance, feeling even better as she smiled brightly at you. You made it a point to personally get to know all the melusine around the city, finding them to be extremely fascinating beings, and upon doing so, learning that they were among the sweetest, kindest people you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

“I heard you’re going to be working here!” Liath said, throwing her arms out in excitement. “That will be so lovely! I will get to see you every day!” 

You giggled a bit, not wanting to burst her bubble. “It’s just an interview, Liath. Nothing is set in stone just yet.” 

“Well I just know you’re going to get the job, you’re so very lovely.” 

You pressed a hand over your heart, feeling your face heat up. 

“You always say the kindest things when we speak, I'm very flattered. I hope I get the job too.” 

She wished you good luck and sent you off, and you entered the building with your heart once again in your throat. 

You walked through towards the head office, nodding at the gestionnaire ladies who were working diligently at their tables before you heard your name ring out from the end of the hall. 

Sedene scurried out from behind her station, coming to greet you. 

“Sedene!” You exclaimed. “It’s been a while, you look so beautiful! are you doing something new with your hair?” 

She smiled sheepishly, pawing at her hair under her hat. “Miss Seigewinne got me some new hair oils, imported from Liyue! They’re very lovely, and smell just heavenly!” She leaned towards you, tilting her head in offering. “Here, smell!” 

You giggled again, a little taken aback, but leaned in to smell her anyway. True to her word, Sedenes hair smelled just lovely, sweet and floral, yet unlike anything you’d ever smelled here in Fontaine. 

“Oh, wow, that's beautiful!” You said. “The next time I go to see the Duke, I’ll have to ask Seigewinne where exactly she got it from.” 

Sedene agreed, and pointed towards the door to your right. “He should be ready for you, I brought the tea in just a moment ago.”

Dread tried to creep its way back into your throat, but Sedene reached up to take your hands into her soft paws. 

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” Was all she said before she smiled and skipped back to her station. 

You walked swiftly to the doors, and before you lost your nerve creaked them open and peaked inside. 

The chief justice was at his desk, eyes flitting over a document held loosely in his hand. He looked so regal and intimidating, his clothes finely pressed and tailored to fit him exceptionally well. Upon your entry, his gaze snapped up, and you swore you could see the faintest hints of embarrassment cross his face. 

Your name fluttered past his lips as he stood, and you shivered a bit at the way his voice uttered the word. 

“My apologies, I did not hear you enter. My attention seems to be scattered as of late.” 

“No, no, please.” You said, stepping further into the room as the door closed audibly behind you. “It’s my fault, I should have knocked first.” 

“Your arrival was anticipated, and Sedene must have sent you through, therefore there was no need for you to knock, I assure you.” 

Neuvillette walked closer to you, holding out his hand for you to shake. You took it,  trying to remember everything you were ever taught about shaking someone’s hand during interviews, but taken aback at how large his hands seemed compared to yours. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Neuvillette said, his hand grasping yours just a beat longer than normal before he pulled away, gesturing to the chair he had set up in front of his desk. “I’ve heard so much about you, please, have a seat.” 

He pulled the chair out, the perfect gentleman, pushing it back under you as you folded your hands under your skirt to tuck it under your bottom, sitting down. 

He rounded the desk and said down, pouring you a cup of tea before sliding the tray of additives closer to you. 

“All good things, I hope?” You said, adding your preferred mixture of extras to your tea. 

“Pardon?” Neuvillette seemed a bit distracted, his eyes jumping back to you from where he seemed to be zoning out. 

“You said that you’ve heard a lot about me,” you said, smiling over the rim of your teacup. Your confidence grew with each passing moment in his office, he just seemed so… normal. A bit scattered—as much as he seemed to try to hide it, which made your chest feel light and airy—but so normal. “I was just hoping they’re all good things.” 

He blinked at you, gears finally clicking into place, before a bit of a sheepish look crept onto his face. 

“Ah, well— yes.” He said, picking up his teaspoon and stirring his tea despite not putting anything in it. “You came highly recommended by Miss Charlotte, and upon hearing of this meeting, a multitude of melusines came to sing your praises, which shocked me a little, but I have heard them speak of you in passing, so I suppose my surprise was short lived.” 

“They speak of me?” You asked, feeling a bit flustered. 

“I’ve heard your name more than once.” He said, taking a sip of his tea. “The girls tend to talk about those who are kindest to them quite a lot, they are all rather fond of you.” 

“Are you close to them?” You asked, already knowing half the answer. “They all speak quite fondly of you.” 

He smiled a bit brighter. “I like to think I am. They are the pride of Fontaine, and therefore I take much pride in them as well.” 

You found yourself staring at his smile. 

You’d only ever seen Neuvillette in the occasional trial you attended. He was always stone faced, serious, and oh so untouchable. High, high up in his seat, looking down on all others. Seeing him here, you couldn’t help but think he looked so very human. 

“To the matter at hand,” he said, clearing his throat and sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. “I will not lie to you, since Lady Furina stepped down I have had an influx of responsibilities to take on, and while I am fully prepared to do so—I find myself in need of…” 

He seemed a bit lost, maybe a bit embarrassed. 

“Some help?” You said softly. 

He sighed. “Yes. Even with all of her frivolity and splendor, Lady Furina did take on her fair share of duties when it came to making sure Fontaine stayed well functioning and stable.” 

Neuvillette seemed a bit wistful then, slightly sad, staring off into the space just beside your head. 

“Monsieur?” 

“Ah, forgive me.” He seemed to shake himself out of it. “I am deeply honored to be entrusted with the care of his nation, but it seems like some assistance would be extremely beneficial to this transitionary period in time, and likely beyond as well.” 

“If I may say so, sir, I think you’re doing a wonderful job already.” You thought about how well the crisis of the flood was handled, the aftermath, the reparations. “I would be honored if you chose me to be the one to aid you in this.” 

He smiled again, softly, and you hoped you’d be able to see it more in the future. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I would be so very grateful.” 

[idksmtms]

You Are Not One of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 7

Full Request Part

Part 6 << PART7 >> Part 8

AN: I am so so sorry that this took me so long! I’m ngl, I lost a bit of inspiration for this for a while but I kinda forced myself to sit down and write it and it felt really good to finish something I felt I had given up on! I tried to make it a big one to make up for all the time I was gone! 

I also went back and read all the Anon messages I got from so many people and they really helped me, so thank you to absolutely everyone and all the anons who contributed ideas. I def included some in this part (and the coming parts) so if you spot it, I hope you enjoy it! 

Also, for the timing of his birthday versus when he started at Yancy Academy, IDK guys, I made it up. I don’t actually know about when he started versus when his birthday was so just… let it go ig. 

ALSO, I copied the dialogue for the diner scene almost verbatim from the show so I can’t take credit for writing that, but the descriptions attached to the dialogue are still mine. 

PS. I got a new divider that I love heheheh 

Also, I really hope y’all notice the significance of each of his birthday presents because I worked so unnecessarily hard on those. 

Summary: In one place, Percy grows up with his Aunt Sally, dealing with the struggles of being a demigod child. In another, you try to pretend you haven’t just given up your son and a life you have always wanted. Neither world is going as one would hope. 

Word count: 7.3k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), personal insecurity, insecurity about one’s parenting, absentee parents technically, light angst, Percy believing there is something wrong with him, negative view of one’s own ADHD and dyslexia, any warnings associated with Percy’s adventures, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

When you returned to Valhalla, you tried to put on a brave face. Your return was denoted by a grand feast, and the Aesir were simply so happy to see you return no one questioned the way you occasionally turned away to brush off stray tears or gazed at Yggdrasil as if you wanted to see into one of the worlds nestled in its branches. But aside from all of that, you were rather good at pretending to be happy. You drank a few sips of ale for every mug Thor drained, you danced half the night with Baldur, and you sat cosied up with Loki, ready to listen to whatever story of his latest shenanigans he wished to bestow on you. Everyone was happy. Things were as they were meant to be. 

As the sun began to creep toward the horizon and the Aesir made their way out of the grand hall, you found yourself walking with Odin back to your old quarters in Valhalla. When he first came up to you as you stood from the feast table, he had wrapped you up in his arms, whispering how he was happy at your return. Even now, he occasionally turns to look at you with his remaining eye and smiles gently. The walk was peaceful, quiet, a stillness in the air at that hour just before dawn. 

“Do you know what I gave up my eye for?” He asked out of the blue. You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head and looking at him almost incredulously. 

“Of course, all the gods know, you sacrificed your eye for all the knowledge of the world.” 

“Hm,” he nodded. Then he stopped in the hallway and turned to fully face you. You clasped your hands in front of you, heart suddenly beating just a little faster. “Did you know that this also means I know about Perseus?” 

You could suddenly hear the blood rushing in your ears. You could see Odin in front of you, but you also couldn’t. Your hands were sweaty and your dress was suddenly tight around your ribs. You looked up at him, shallow breaths blowing from your lips. But then Odin smiled, a small sad smile that somehow broke your heart just that little bit more. 

“I am the only one that knows, and it should be kept that way.” He reached out and caressed your cheek, and you closed your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek that he wiped away. “If it were different, I would have cherished meeting him.” Then he pulled away and walked back in the direction of the feasting hall. You listened to his footsteps fade away, before entering the room you had left behind for millenia. 

Every year, without fail, it rained on Percy’s birthday. When he first noticed, he thought it meant something special. That there was something magical out there, wishing him well. Whatever higher power was out there, they knew he loved to swim, to be in the water, and they sent the rain just for him. As he grew, he began simply chalking it up to weather patterns. August was just the time of year when rain happened upon the city. It wasn’t anything special, this was simply the one part of his life where he was lucky. 

Sally knew it was a blessing. She knew it was his father, celebrating the day in the best way he knew how, sending a message to Percy in the only way he could. She always took Percy outside, regardless of if the rain became a storm. She knew Percy would be safe in the rain. They made it a habit to go onto the fire-escape when the rain was at its worst, and they would spin around and dance and laugh. 

In all the time Sally had spent raising Percy, through all the challenges and the struggles, she never failed to notice how alike to his mother he was. Percy, seemingly since he was born, was obsessed with the colour blue. He only wanted to eat blue food, only wanted to wear blue clothes (it took a lot of convincing to introduce other colours to his wardrobe) and all the toys he chose were blue. He had an immense sweet tooth, and every time she watched him bite into a blue chocolate chip cookie, she fondly remembered the afternoon she had sat with his mother and watched the ravenous pregnant woman devour an entire tray of those same cookies. He smiled brightly and constantly, always happy and mischievous, just like his mother. But he was also trapped like his mother. He also cried like his mother. And most of all, both good and bad, he loved just as sincerely, as fiercely as his mother. 

Every year on Percy’s birthday, this fierce love was demonstrated. A surprise present would arrive, wrapped in shiny blue wrapping paper with only ‘To Percy Jackson’ written on it in loopy, elegant handwriting. Each year the box contained something different, something odd but somehow heartwarming and special. Sometimes he didn’t know why in the world someone would send him these things, but they felt important, and he kept them lined up on the chest of drawers opposite his bed, and counted them each night before he went to bed. At least when he was still living at home. He even had presents from years he didn’t remember, going all the way from his first birthday to his latest. 

On his first birthday, he had apparently received a spool of golden thread. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why someone would give a one year old thread. It’s a choking hazard! What were they thinking?! But it was beautiful and shiny, and sometimes he thought it might just be real gold, but he didn’t want to find out if it was. It somehow felt… more than just something for money. He used it only for the most important things, but however much he seemed to unravel, the thread never seemed to end. 

On his second birthday, the package was smaller. Sally sat him up and unwrapped it in front of him to reveal a little toy throne. It was small, about the size of an adult hand, and made of hard resin. It was so intricate, coloured like the ocean, even white and frothy in some places, and looked as if it was made with the whorls of the ocean. It had been his favourite little toy for a long time. 

His third birthday present was simply a feather. It was beautiful, and no matter how much he crushed the fibres or threw it around, it never lost its perfect shape. It came with a flat metal stand that had a little foam rectangle in the centre so he could stick the tip of the feather into it and leave it as a decoration. The metal stand was simply labelled ‘Pegasus’ and three year old Percy staunchly believed it was a feather from the wing of a Pegasus. Even at the ripe old age of thirteen he sometimes still liked to hope it was a feather from Pegasus, simply so he could believe that magic existed. 

For his fourth birthday, he received a framed painting. Even at four years old he thought it was weird, and he still believed it was an absolutely insane present to get a four year old. A painting? Seriously? It was beautiful though, and he appreciated it a lot more once he was older than he did at the time. He didn’t know where it was supposed to show, there was no date and no artist’s signature. The edges showed that the viewer was looking through the mouth of a cave onto some type of secret hidden lake. Trees surrounded the lake, and it had the most beautiful clear water. The artist had even depicted the rocks at the bottom, and sometimes, in the quietest and stillest moments of the day, if he looked really hard at the painting, he could almost see the water lapping at the shore. He could almost hear the gentle chirp of birds and the soft rustle of leaves. The entire painting always made him feel so odd, as if he could feel someone’s else's memories, someone else’s feelings. Someone had been happy there once, but now they only looked at it with sadness, as if a wonderful day by the lake had been ruined by a fight in the car on the way home. 

His fifth birthday present was just as odd as the rest of them. He still didn’t quite understand why someone had gifted him five oysters with pearls inside of them. He didn’t believe the pearls were real (that was the only reason he hadn’t pawned or sold them off so he could get some extra money for his Aunt Sally) simply because he had never seen an oyster like that. No one had, not even google. He thought they were pretty though, and kept them lined up on the back of his nightstand rather than on the chest of drawers. 

His favourite birthday present, from all those he had ever received, came on his sixth birthday. It was a conch shell, bigger than both the palms of his hands put together, with a dark blue colour that slowly faded to white as it twisted in on itself. Normally when he held it up to his ear, he could hear the sea, but unlike any other conch he had ever listened to. He could hear waves crashing, he could hear the ruffling and snuffling sort of sound they made as they frothed onto the shore. He could hear the swoosh as the waves pulled back. He could even hear the distant sort of gurgling a person hears when they’re underwater in the ocean, the sound of water moving about you. But then, at the darkest parts of the night, when he couldn’t sleep for whatever reason and pressed the shell to his ear, he could hear a gentle voice whispering ‘I love you’. It was soft, but calming and loving, the kind of ‘I love you’ a father whispers to his son just as he puts him to bed. He had never heard the voice before, but secretly he always wished it was somehow the voice of his own father. He tried not to think about that as much anymore. His father simply wasn’t here. 

A little zombie looking figurine arrived for his seventh birthday. This one felt a little more kid-appropriate, and he had loved playing with it when he was still into action figures. For a while he hadn’t known what character it was supposed to be, because while it looked like a zombie, it didn’t really look like the zombie figurines he had seen some of the other kids play with. The little circle that connected the two feet of the figurine was engraved with the word ‘Draugr’ and Aunt Sally had had to google that for him. The stories had scared him so much that for a while he had hidden the figure in the back of his toybox. 

By the time his eighth birthday had rolled around, he had begun to grow an interest in Greek mythology and the stories of Greek heroes. When he received a little storybook on Perseus and his adventures, he had asked Sally if she was the one sending him the secret presents. It had to be his Aunt Sally. She knew he liked Greek mythology, she had been the one to tell him that he was named after Perseus. Sure, the earlier gifts had been really weird, but maybe she had just become a better gift-giver over time? But Aunt Sally denied it, and when they opened the book, a little picture had been put in as a bookmark. It depicted a cabin high up on the cliffs of the fjords, small but homely looking, and it was simply marked with the word Norway in the bottom corner in that same loopy handwriting. Sally had simply replied “see, it can’t be from me because I’ve never even been to Norway. Plus, kid, have you ever seen me write that neatly?” He had sat there and read the entire book, pushing through even though the letters bounced around and sometimes he had to look completely away to be able to try and focus again. He kept the picture in the book and the book on his nightstand as well. Though he had read it countless times, thumbed each page a million times, the book still looked good as new. 

On his ninth birthday he got… a jar of sand. He was pretty disappointed at first, staring at it for a whole minute after he had taken it out of the wrapping. But then he saw that a little label had been pasted onto the top of the metal lid of the jar that simply said ‘Montauk’ and he realised it must be from the beach in front of the cabins they went to every year. It was seemingly sentimental, and it had made Aunt Sally smile all sad and happy and teary that he had told her to keep it in her room, so it would stay safe. 

On his tenth birthday, he only received an envelope. It was made of the same shimmery blue paper as the wrapping of all the other gifts he had ever received, and it had the same loopy handwriting, but it had been pushed under the door. Aunt Sally usually got her letters from the box downstairs, he had thought it was weird, but she had told him not to worry, that this must be special because it was his birthday. The only thing in the envelope was a picture. It was square, and about the size of a polaroid, but glossy like it had been taken by a digital camera and printed at some fancy shop. He couldn’t quite tell what it was at first. It looked like it was taken underwater, he could see little flecks of seaweed floating and sand that had been kicked up by the waves and little bubbles here and there. He could see the sandy floor as well, the way some of it was mid-movement with the waves. ‘Midnight on Montauk - where the water meets the sand’ was written on the back, and he thought it was weird that he had gotten two gifts from Montauk now. Nevertheless, he pinned the picture to the corkboard above his chest of drawers. 

On his eleventh birthday he got a gold coin. He was so excited at first. This was the first time he had ever gotten money as a present, let alone a frickin’ gold coin! He had even promised Aunt Sally he would take her out for ice cream with the money from the coin. But then he had looked at it again and realised that it was stamped with a trident on both sides. He had suddenly deflated, thinking it was some kind of gimmick coin they sold at souvenir shops (this gift-giver seemed to be way too sentimental) but Aunt Sally had quickly pressed it into his palm and told him to keep it very very safe. He kept it on him at all times now. At least some of his jeans had that little seemingly useless pocket, making it easy for him to carry it around. 

His last birthday, the one right before everything went wrong for the millionth time and got him sent to Yancy Academy, had brought a flat box filled with shredded paper. Nestled inside it was a framed weather report from the day he had been born. At the top was the cut out of a headline ‘Largest Storm to Ever Hit Montauk and all of New York’. Below it, there were a bunch of different images, from graphs about the intensity of the rainfall to satellite images of the eye of the storm and the area it covered. He thought it was kind of funny, and he put it up proudly on the chest of drawers. That day was the first time in a long time he had thought the rain on his birthday really meant something again. Maybe it wasn’t something special for him, maybe it was just the weather remembering the storm it had put on that day, and sending some rain in its memory. But it meant something. 

Grover heard whispers in his dreams. He never quite remembered what they were, never quite remembered what they said, but he knew that something whispered to him in his sleep. A woman, a soft, lilting voice that sounded just out of reach, was all that he had gleaned thus far. He didn’t know if the forces were good or bad, where the voice came from, but whenever he awoke there was a small niggling feeling inside him that he should be doing something. Deep in the pit of his stomach he felt like he had to be outside Camp Half-Blood, had to be chasing something or maybe finding something. It was an itch that no other satyr duty seemed to satiate. No amount of berries collected, animal cages cleaned, campfires attended made him forget the voice, forget the desire to follow its orders, whatever they may be. 

When he got his next mission to escort a demigod back to the camp, everything seemed to click into place inside him. When he was told that he would be responsible for bringing Percy Jackson safely back to the camp, it was like the gods themselves had come in and soothed whatever had been writhing inside him. This was what he had been waiting for. This was what the whispers had commanded for him. And somehow, he knew that this was the most important journey in his entire life… 

Three days before Percy’s twelfth birthday, a blue butterfly landed on his hand as he sat outside his latest school. It was the end of his first official week at Yancy Academy, and the school was rather… daunting. All the kids looked at him like he was dirt beneath their shoes and nothing seemed to be clicking with him. He was trying his best. When the kids whispered about him, he ignored it. When they started messing with his things, he just asked his teachers for new notebooks and moved on. Whatever they did, he chose to try peace and quiet. He didn’t want to make life even more difficult for his Aunt Sally, she was already doing everything she could to make sure he had a decent school to go to; this was their last chance and he wasn’t going to be the one that screwed it up. 

He sighed and rested his elbows on his crossed legs, staring out at the yard. If nothing else, at least Yancy had a nice garden to look at. He hadn’t noticed the fluttering little creature until it was directly in his line of sight. It took a few turns around in front of his face before landing directly on the tip of his nose. The little legs were slightly ticklish and he breathed out of his mouth to resist the urge to sneeze. 

It was beautiful. It almost glowed in the light, like a haze was surrounding its edges, and he reached up to gently touch the tip of its wing. It shattered right in front of his eyes, like a glass breaking against the floor. The little pieces floated all around and landed on his clothes, sticking to his jeans. He stared at his lap, wide eyed. What the- He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths in, a technique one of the many councillors had taught him to try and re-centre himself in the world. When he opened his eyes again, the pieces were still there, like glitter all over his clothes, but they were beginning to fade. 

Percy stared at his clothes, at the fading pieces of a butterfly that had somehow flown directly to him then shattered like glass, and stood up with a determination to forget this ever happened. He shook his head, as if to shake his brain into action. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. No one would believe him anyway. This was just another pegasus in the window. He wouldn’t speak of it until the next time he was at home. Aunt Sally could calm him down, Aunt Sally would make him feel better and they would solve this. There was just something fundamentally wrong with him, they needed to fix it soon. With a clench of his fist, he walked back inside, only to bump directly into someone who quickly introduced themselves as Grover Underwood….

“And then Grover beat me, Aunt Sally!” Percy told her excitedly as they sat at the dining table ravenously devouring stacks of blue pancakes. Sally smiled down at the boy, reaching forward and ruffling his curly hair as he shoved another forkful into his mouth. 

“Grover sounds awesome, I’m glad you guys found each other,” she told him happily, pretending like the satyr hadn’t already introduced himself as Percy’s guardian. “If you want, you can invite him up here today, we can have a little birthday party.” 

“Nah, todays about you and me Aunt Sally,” he smiled brightly up at her, syrup painting the corners of his mouth, and she stood up to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Alright then mister, have I got plans for you this weekend! I was gonna get us passes for the waterpark today but I knew it was gonna rain so it’s been postponed for tomorrow. Today will start with a swim at the indoor pool in a country club in Manhattan! Someone I know gave me her pass for the weekend,” Sally giggled, reaching out to high five Percy as he exclaimed ‘no way!’. 

“Is it Denise? I love Denise,” Percy asked excitedly, momentarily forgetting his plate. 

“No, I mentioned to one of my regular customers that it’s your birthday this weekend and that you love to swim so she got us signed up as her guests for the weekend!” Sally explained, smiling triumphantly. 

Though she always tried her hardest, sometimes she felt like Percy missed out on a better life because she didn’t make enough money. But Percy simply jumped up and hugged her tightly, whispering a ‘thank you’ against her ear. 

“Hold on, you haven’t even heard the entire plan!” She exclaimed, laughing as he pulled away and raised his hands as if in surrender. “Ok, so, then we’re gonna go get ice cream, I found this cool place near the country club that has a bunch of blue ice creams and I thought we could get a scoop of each so we have those cones piled with like ten scoops. Then we’ll come back here for a mov-” 

There was a knock at the door. Sally frowned for a second, turning to the door, but there was no other sound and she looked back to Percy as something dawned on her. She smiled gently, a rather wistful look in her eyes all of a sudden, and got up from where she was sitting adjacent to him. 

“That must be your special present.” Percy swallowed his latest too-big mouthful and got up from the table to meet Aunt Sally in the hallway. 

It was cube shaped this time, about the size of both his palms put together, and it had simply been left in front of their door. Sally brought the box inside and they stood by the window to look at it in the dim grey light from outside. It was covered in that same shiny blue wrapping paper as every other year, and his name was written in that same loopy style with a fresh black pen. His face was contorted in confusion and he took it from Sallys hands, ripping through the wrapping paper to the baby blue cardboard box beneath. He opened that too and Sally watched on curiously as he pulled out something wrapped in bubble wrap. Percy pulled the little pieces of tape holding it together and unfolded the sheet of wrapping to find a snowglobe nestled inside. 

The little stand that the orb was perched on was a blue so dark it was almost black, and smooth, without any engraving or description of the scene inside the ball. The globe itself showed a little scene of what looked like a campground, with lots of cabins and a big bonfire in the middle. It even had a little sign pointing in different directions, and had an open-air pavilion near the edge. It was cute, a little fancy, but he had no idea why in the world someone would send this to him. He had never been to camp before, but especially not this camp, whatever it was. He held it up to Sally and frowned at it. 

“I have no idea where this is,” he told her, but she was staring at it so intensely that he paused. Percy raised an eyebrow and pushed it toward her. “You know where this is? Have you been here before?” At first Sally didn’t answer, because yes, she knew where it was, she knew exactly what the snow globe was showing her, and she knew that it was a message. It meant that soon, she would have to say goodbye to Percy, and soon Percy would know everything she had been hiding from him his entire life. 

“It’s a campground, right?” She asked nonchalantly, “it’s cute though, I like it. Keep it on your dresser, I’m sure one day you’ll know more about it.” And she shrugged as if that day wasn’t coming very soon. 

Percy shrugged in return and went to his room to put the snowglobe on the dresser. A beam of sunlight had broken through the clouds and sparkled in the rain right onto his dresser. The water in the painting looked like it was moving again, and a phantom wind ruffled the fibres on the feather. He put the snowglobe between them carefully, directly in the light of the sun, and a little bit of glitter in the globe shined directly onto his eye. He squinted and bent down to look at it again. There, hidden behind one of the cabins because of the way he had been holding it earlier, was a tiny blue butterfly. It was so small it was easy to miss, but it looked exactly like the butterfly that had come to him. Percy felt his heart begin to race. Surely this was a coincidence. He blinked and rubbed his eyes roughly, then looked down at the snowglobe again. It was still there. The butterfly almost looked like it flapped its wings in the sunlight. No, surely not, this was just another sign that he was going crazy, that there was something really wrong with him. 

Percy shoved the snowglobe behind the painting and walked right back out to find Aunt Sally. She was sitting on the sofa waiting for him, smiling when he came over to her, but quickly her lips drooped into a frown at the look on his face. 

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” She asked, pulling him down to sit beside her. 

“Aunt Sally, I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. It’s happening again, it’s exactly like the horse on the rooftop and I-I don’t kno-” 

“Hey. Ok, let’s take a deep breath. Ok, good, one, two, three, four, ok now big release. Alright, good, now, start from the beginning.” She gently cupped his cheek for a moment before folding her hands in her lap and watching his face. 

“I was sitting in the garden at Yancy, I don’t know, I’d had kind of a crummy day, I guess, but then suddenly this butterfly came fluttering to me. Aunt Sally, I have never seen a butterfly like that. It’s like it wasn’t real. It was all shiny and like-like it was glowing? I don’t know, it just didn’t seem like it actually existed. But it came right up to me and landed on my nose. And I thought that was so cool, so I kinda just reached up and touched it. I mean, I didn’t even really touch it, the tip of my finger kinda just brushed it, but then it burst. I don’t even know, it shattered like it was made of glass. And that’s crazy because that’s not possible. Animals don’t shatter like that, nothing real shatters like that and just disappears. It broke into glitter and was all over me! I was trying to brush it off but it-it just wouldn’t come off, and then slowly, it just started to… fade away. Just like that. Ugh, I don’t know Aunt Sally, I seriously think there’s something wrong with me. I mean, it’s not normal to be seeing visions, even I know that.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I believe you,” she added simply, staring at him as if everything he had just said was the most important words to ever have come out of someone’s mouth. 

“What?” Percy tilted his head and looked at her with a frown, as if suddenly she was the crazy one, not him. 

“I believe you. I believe that that happened to you, but we’ll talk about that some other time.” She smiled sadly at him, reaching out to gently brush the hair away from his forehead. Percy scoffed, pulling back from her slightly. 

“What does that even mean? You just said you believed me, we need to talk about it now.” 

“Percy, when the time is right, we’ll talk about it,” Sally sighed, knowing she couldn’t delay this conversation for much longer. She just wanted him to be a kid as long as possible… “But today is your birthday, and we’re supposed to be having fun before you go back to school. So come on,” she clapped her hands and stood up, “there is a bag of blue jelly beans sitting in the kitchen with your name on it!” She sing-songed. 

“But Aunt Sally-” 

“Percy. Some other time.” Her lips were set in a line and her tone left no more room for argument. Sally left him to go to her room to start packing a backpack with stuff they would need for the pool, while Percy made his way to the kitchen and began slowly chewing on blue jelly beans, his mind stuck on the butterfly. 

That night, after a long day of swimming, and a little too much sugar, Sally sat in the middle of little garden they had made on their floor of the fire escape and let the rain douse her. She had already shoved a hungover Gabe into bed and locked the door on him in case he wanted to come back out and make any noise that disturbed Percy, and now, under the rain, she let her thoughts wander to the past thirteen years. 

Life with Percy had been as beautiful and loving as it had been difficult. She had known, from the beginning, that Percy would not be a normal kid. As much as his parents wanted him to be, as much as she wanted it for him, it simply wouldn’t happen. He was too special, the product of two worlds too incomprehensible. 

She remembered all the calls to schools. He couldn’t sit still, he couldn’t learn, he was too ‘disruptive’, too ‘distracted’. Each time it boiled her blood, broke her heart, because he wasn’t even made for this world, but these people had the audacity to reduce this child to what they considered bad things. She remembered all the times he would cry, clinging to her with his little hands wondering why he couldn’t be like the other kids, why he couldn’t focus like other kids or why he couldn’t study like the other kids, why he didn’t have parents like the other kids… 

She remembered the first time she had told little Percy about his dad. How excited he had been to learn that somewhere out there, he did have parents, parents who loved him and wanted to be with him but for some inexplicable reason, couldn’t. She had seen the way he had slowly dismissed that childish hope as he grew up, how he stopped asking about his mom, how he stopped wondering if he looked like his dad. He never asked anymore. 

The day she had used the coin suddenly floated to the front of her mind as she wiped the water from her eyes. She remembered it vividly. It had been a bad day. The baddest of days at that point. Percy was struggling, and she was on edge. There was a storm. It was still the years when she had been scared of storms, when they reminded her of the day Percy was born, the fear in Y/n’s eyes, the pain in Poseidon’s. She had driven them away from yet another school and decided to stop at a diner for lunch. Maybe ice cream would improve Percy’s mood. 

They had eaten in silence, neither of them ready to talk to the other. She had tried to make a few jokes before the food came, hoping to lift Percy’s mood, but he had simply pushed the salt and pepper shakers around the table and mumbled answers to her. After that she had given up on her attempts and sat in silence, staring out of the window and stewing in her own struggles. Maybe this was her breaking point, she thought. Maybe this was the moment when she couldn’t raise Percy anymore. She was struggling, and the last thing she wanted to do was to ruin his life because she couldn’t cope with raising a godly child. What could she do? No one could understand her situation, she couldn’t even talk to anyone about it. Was this the time to send him to camp? Was it the time to let him go, for his sake? Tears had begun to prick at her eyes but she wiped them away as the server had come by. 

They had finished their mains, and she had ordered a sundae for Percy in as excited a voice as she could manage, glad to see a little smile begin to curl at his lips. The server had engaged with him as well, asking him what toppings he wanted and how many ‘extras’ to add before telling the chef he wanted chocolate sauce. She had smiled at the server in thanks before telling Percy to stay put as she got up from the stall and went to the bar to settle the bill. 

At the bar, she asked for a glass of tap water and the bill, and when the bartender had deposited both, she pulled a coin out of her pocket. It was gold, and had tridents embossed on both sides. Even though she’d had it for years now, it hadn’t lost its shine. She brought the cup of water closer to her and flipped the coin over it, watching it twist in the air before falling into the water with a little ‘plonk’. She closed her eyes and whispered two names to herself, over and over and over. A crack of thunder shook through the diner, as if the storm was right overhead. She opened her eyes and stared into the glass of water as the door to the diner opened and someone walked in. The stool beside her was pulled out, and someone settled onto it with a slight creak. The sleeve of their shirt brushed against hers and the smell of salty sea air suddenly seemed to waft around her. She closed her eyes and whispered one of the names again, but nothing changed. Tears pricked at her eyes again, and she stared ahead of her, unable, unwilling, to look at the man that had settled down beside her. 

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, a tear escaping down her cheek. 

“No, it isn’t,” he replied quietly, his gruff voice comforting and painful at the same time. 

“And I am failing.” She clenched her hands around the cup of water at the uncomfortable truth of it all. More tears slipped out of her eyes now, easier than the first. 

“No, you’re not,” he answered instantly, and still neither of them looked at each other. For all anyone knew, they were strangers sitting beside each other at a bar. Sally closed her eyes and gulped, her eyes fluttering open as breathing became just that little more painful as she tried to keep a handle on herself. 

“I’m going to take him to camp,” she told him, releasing her grip around the glass of water and pushing it forward slightly. 

“Are you sure?” He asked simply, as if it was a casual decision, but she could still hear the gravity in the statement. 

“What choice do I have?” She whispered, “he and I living together in the city…” she paused, taking in a deep breath, “it’s starting to attract attention from your world.” He didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips together and stared at the floor behind the bar with an intensity that would make it crack if he truly wanted it to. “A winged horse followed him to school.” She let the statement settle into the air. “It saw him, he saw it. Sooner or later it’s not gonna be just pretty things that are following him,” she breathed out, shaking her head slightly and looking up to the ceiling as the tears pushed from her eyes again. 

It was so painful to sit here, mere steps from Percy, with the father he couldn’t meet. It was so painful, knowing that soon she would have to let him go, to let him fight his own battles. It was so painful knowing that there were forces much bigger than her little self, controlling everything, and making life so difficult for the beautiful little boy sitting just over there. 

“At camp, he will be safe,” she nodded to herself, taking a sharp breath in and staring at the ceiling, trying to convince herself that this was the best idea. 

“You don’t want him at camp,” he answered simply, as if he could look into her mind and see everything that she was thinking, as if he could look directly at her heart and see the immense amount of love she felt for that child. 

“No,” she breathed out painfully, “no, I don’t,” and she almost began crying with the words, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head. 

“Tell me why,” he stated as he stared down at the wood of the bar but his attention was fully on her. 

“You don’t wanna know why,” she scoffed lightly, shaking her head and looking to the ceiling again. Then she smiled, a rueful, exasperated little smile as he let out a huff of a chuckle. 

“Probably not. But you have no one to say it to, and maybe that’s the most unfair part of it.” He paused, just for a moment, but her heart began to feel a little lighter somehow. “You say it, and I will listen.” They were silent, sitting together and listening to the quiet sounds of the bar, the clinking of spoons and glasses and plates, the rush of water inside the dishwasher. 

“I want him to know who he is, before your worlds try to tell him who they want him to be,” her voice was forceful, verging on spiteful. “He is better than that, he has better things in him than that.” She was full of conviction, this was a truth she knew better than anything else in the world. Poseidon continued staring at the bar as he spoke. 

“Then you have your answer. He’s going to go to school, and he’s going to learn things you can’t teach him there, and it’s going to be hard for the both of you. And it’s going to be torture for the both of you. But he will be stronger for it on the other side. His aunt raised him well.” And her tears flowed again, as if something in her chest released but brought with it a stabbing pain of everything that could not be. 

“Do you wanna talk to him?” She asked through tears, hoping against all hope that he would say yes. “I know you shouldn’t,” she began, trying to convince him somehow. “Maybe just hear his voice,” she whispered, but there was another crack of thunder in the sky, and Poseidon turned away, listening as if he could hear things she could not. 

“One day,” he simply whispered, and when she looked up to finally meet his eyes, to finally look at him again after so many years, no one was sitting there. 

She sat at the bar for another few minutes, staring into the glass of water as if it had all the answers, but not one reason floated up for the absence of the boy’s mother. 

For thirteen years, you watched your son’s life in snippets. It was like a faulty connection on a tv, darkness one moment, then a flash of Percy smiling as he opened the new mystery present that had been left at his door. A moment of beauty and excitement as you watched him uncover pieces of the world that you and his father had created, the world that led to his being. Then darkness once more, a year of knowing nothing about his life no matter how hard you tried, then Percy crying in Sally’s arms, sobbing about his latest struggles at school, and a pain so sharp in your heart that you almost abandoned secrecy to go to him, then darkness again. You didn’t know why it was like this. Why you didn’t get to watch over him as you so hoped before he was born, why even a distant relationship was stolen from you. You spent days climbing over the roots of Yggdrasil, peering into different worlds and hoping to see Percy living his life. Even if you found a branch that looked into Midgard, you saw only the mountains, with little dots of people climbing up them that left you amused for a moment, or boats on the ocean that made your heart ache desperately for your husband. 

But you didn’t question it much either. Maybe it was his position between the two worlds of gods, the magic of the Fates and the Norns interfering with your powers, the mist cloaking him better than you had hoped. 

You continued with your life as it had been long before you knew of the existence of the Greek Pantheon. You filled your position as a good goddess should, protecting the people from threats bigger than them, refusing to interfere with the machinations of demigods and their quests. You had no way of knowing that this obstruction of your view was unnatural. How would you know that someone else’s designs were at play here? How could you possibly know that your own father was stopping you from hearing the desperate prayers meant for you, the pleas of your dear friend when she felt she could not cope? 

As you sat there beside Odin at the feast table, looking up to your father with reverence as he smiled cheerfully down at you, how were you to know he was actively hiding your son from you?

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