#granted they are good things but i still need to bite someone about it

[milfsrights]

anyone out there wanna larp as my own personal chew toy

[jasmineoolongtea]

― i like the way you kiss me . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

― the ways in which they kiss you when you aren't actually together yet ₊˚⊹♡

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn! reader, choso x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, slightly suggestive for some of them if you squint a/n: just some headcanons i wanted to write after listening to i like the way you kiss me by artemas plus i needed a short writing break from my risk - megumi fic that i've been working on. hope you guys enjoy this !!!

gojo satoru kisses you like he misses you already despite barely being apart for more than a few hours. it didn't matter to him that he just saw you moments ago. that was nothing more than a trivial fact to him, just like the fact that you two still weren't actually together yet, in the grand scheme of things. why should he be waiting any second longer to feel your touch on him? he was never good at being patient anyways.

"missing me already huh?" you murmur against his lips, his hands securing you against him as he pinned you against the brick wall of the restaurant behind you two.

he scoffs at your comment. "oh shut up." his lips are on yours again in a matter of second. you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying this. to see someone so powerful like gojo satoru yet so susceptible to your presence to the point where he couldn't wait anymore to have your lips against his. with his flushed cheeks and slightly puffy lips, you want to forever immortalise this image of him in your mind. silently, you thanked whatever was out there that he decided to forgo his sunglasses tonight as their absence allowed you to truly appreciate the beauty of his eyes, even being able to notice the tiniest specks of what appeared to be gold in his pupils.

as he tilts his head to the side to better fit his features against yours, you swear you can feel his every breath with how flushed his chest is against yours. you even earn a soft groan from him when your fingers dance across his undercut, taking your time to run your hands through his snowy locks.

you're glad that his eyes are closed right now, getting a ticklish sensation as his long eyelashes kiss the expanses of your cheeks with the slight flutter of his eyes so that he isn't able to notice how the red blush that was once contained on your face has now expanded outwards to the tip of your eyes. he bites at your bottom lip gently, as if asking for permission to go further and you grant his request with a faint gasp of your own.

"noisy, aren't we?"

"oh shut up."

geto suguru kisses you like you're his already. the way he snakes his arms around your waist and presses his lips against yours only makes you sink further into his touch. if he wasn't holding you up right now, you would probably melt into the floor just from his proximity alone. you've been dancing around the issue for a few months now, fleeting touches in a dark room, longing glances across the room. it was all fun and games for both of you, seeing how long you could drag out this game of teasing and temptation until the other had enough. you thought you were doing pretty well. that is, until he decided to show up here again and well, just imagine the feeling of his lips against yours wasn't enough anymore.

you've always wondered what it would feel like to card your hands through his raven tresses and now, with your fingers tangled in up there, you can safely say it was better than you could have ever imagined. if it wasn't you who was the one messing up his hair, he would have some choice words to say about it, but as of right now, that was the least of his concerns. right now, his priority was seeing how long it would take for him to become consumed by his desire for you and it seemed like he wasn't going to last long. not with how you would let out a low whine every time his teeth grazed your lips or with your wandering hands taking this opportunity to explore the expanses of his well-sculpted back.

you feel like you've just had your breath stolen from you with how heavily you were panting against him, your faces flushed with want and kiss-swollen lips as evidence of what had recently transpired between the two of you. neither of you make the move to break apart as he leans down to ask.

"so what does this make us?"

nanami kento kisses you with so much restraint it only incites you to try and break down his defences further. his kisses barely feel like pecks, leaving you to subconsciously chase him for more every time he pulls away. he doesn't dare to try and do more, to push the boundary further. not only are you not technically together yet but also he's afraid. not of you, but rather of what would happen if he let his resolve fall and indulged in his selfish desires for what would be the first time in a long while.

he stops for a moment, his face barely hovering centimetres above from yours as his eyes flicker between your slightly agape mouth and your half-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you try to anticipate his next. he couldn't tell which one was drawing him in more at that moment. his breath hitches momentarily when he feels a soft tug at his tie, your right hand absent-mindedly toying with the edges of it as you place your other hand against his chest as if attempting to brace yourself against him. he couldn't tell but your legs felt like they were about to give out at any second with how every single cell in your body felt electrified with the amount of desire and anxiety coursing through your veins.

silence dragged on for what felt like ages, both of you unmoving in your positions until you muttered under your breath. "kento..." your voice was barely above a whisper but at that moment, it turns out that he was not as strong in his resolve as he thought he was with that being all he needed to dive right into you, fully untethered this time as his lips crashed against yours.

kamo choso kisses you like he's scared that this will be the first and last time he'll ever get to do so. there's so much fear and hesitation in his movements yet at the same time, you can feel the fervour and passion that is pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against you. his hands are hovering around your figure, scared to fully let himself hold you as if he's worried that the moment he makes contact, you're going to snap out of whatever daze you're in and run away from him. you aren't going to do that of course, if only he knew how long you were waiting for this to happen. as you feel the cold of the concrete wall against your back, the two of you part, albeit reluctantly, from each other to catch your breaths.

"..are you sure?" he asks breathlessly. his pupils are blown wide open as his eyes seemingly turn into infinite purple voids, watching your every movement unblinking.

you run your fingers across the back of his neck, toying slightly with some of the loose black strands that were clinging to his skin. he looks pretty like this, you think to yourself. he looks at you so eagerly, so soft and pliable in your hands, as he nervously awaits for your response.

"never been more sure."

fushiguro megumi kisses you like you're the air he breathes. who would have thought someone so famously reserved like megumi had it in him like this? you aren't given long to ponder on that thought as his lips are against yours once again, moving in sync with an imaginary rhythm as you frenziedly grasp at the material of his shirt in a weak attempt to try and ground you against his closeness to you. with every slide of his lips past yours, you're pretty sure that he's simultaneously taking and giving you back your breath which you previously thought would be impossible to do but are now sorely proven wrong.

you're not even a lightweight or anything when it comes to alcohol but you're pretty sure you're drunk on the feeling of him the moment his mouth was on yours. much to your surprise, the spikes that he calls his hair are actually pretty soft as you run your hands through them, a soft tug at the hair beneath your fingers drawing out a barely disguised groan from him. you giggle softly against his lips at his reaction and he silences you with another kiss, not that you were complaining as you ardently respond by tilting your head off to the side slightly to grant him better access to your face. your eyes are closed but you can imagine the half-hearted scowl on his face with how his brows furrow in the way that they always do against your forehead.

even though it was barely minutes ago, your mind is hazy as you try to remember the circumstances that led to this situation right now. it was probably a stupid argument that you guys got into, like the two of you usually do, and somehow that resulted in him wanting to prove his point more unconventionally. you give up on trying to recall the details as you can feel your face start to burn up as one of his hands start to wander down to rest against your hips.

"so," he pants, the heat of his breath is warm against your lips. "does that prove my point?"

itadori yuji kisses you eagerly, trying to savour every single moment of his lips against yours. you could feel the excitement basically pouring out from him with each movement of his lips against you, even eliciting a giggle from him that reverberates against your mouth as your noses bump against each other. it's a messy, disorganised sort of kiss with you being sure this is the third time you've accidentally grazed your teeth against his. fortunately for both of you, you're all way too engrossed and intoxicated on the sensation of the other's lips to care.

every time one of you tries to catch your breath, the other tries to chase your lips as they attempt to recapture that feeling again. as your arms encircle his neck, pulling you close to him, you're pretty sure you can feel him groan quietly against your lips with his hands reaching up to cup your face. with a deep sigh, you sink into his warm embrace, taking the moment to fully breathe him in like your life depended on it.

one of his hands falls from your face and gives a tentative squeeze at your waist to which you gasp quietly. taking this opportunity, he breaks apart from your lips and presses a flurry of kisses across your face which earns him a wide grin from you as you half-heartedly attempt to defend yourself from his sudden kiss attacks.

if you knew that a simple, experimental peck on the cheek could earn you this, maybe you should try to do this more.

okkotsu yuuta kisses you like you're a dream come true. hear him out. he never thought that he would get to experience touch like this ever again in his life, nevermind it coming from you in this manner. to him, you were what sweet dreams were made of, so ethereal, so delicate and so much better than whatever could exist in such a cruel world like this. but once again, defying all his expectations, you were here right in front of him and your lips were on his, faster than in the blink of an eye.

cradling the back of your head with his hands, he leans into the feeling of your lips against his as the two of you move in sync with each other. as if the moment couldn't get better, it was as if your lips were perfectly moulded for his or vice versa. he didn't care which way it was, all this fact did was solidify the thought in his mind that you were sent down onto earth from whatever heavenly plane people like you come from just for him to bask in the presence of.

his eyes are closed for two reasons. one, because he's scared that if he opens his eyes, this will be nothing more than a dream that he has to wake up from and two because he's pretty sure that if he was able to see you in your flushed, kiss dazed glory, he would explode on the spot.

despite being able to tell how badly he's been wanting to kiss you, he doesn't let it overpower him, instead taking the upmost care to make sure that you were still unharmed, treating you as if you were some piece of delicate china that could break at the slightest of wrong moves. while it was nice, you were feeling particularly greedy in that moment. you wanted more.

right as he breaks apart for air, you're already back to pulling him closer than humanly possible at this point by the collar of his shirt and you find that you're rewarded with a soft gasp escaping from him as your lips find each other again, this time with a renewed sense of desire and want.

[irndad]

Oh my gosh!!! Don’t date coworkers was so cute!!! Would you be willing to do one similar with Hotch? <3

It shouldn’t bother him.

Aaron thinks of himself as someone who adores professional candor, and wishes that his team possessed it in spades. It’s not as though she is professional in almost any other aspect. She excels in personality, and if he had any shame, it would be harder for Aaron to admit what an actual delight she is to his daily life. 

She’s kind, in a way that he’s found is rare in this world. Asks about Jack, remembers what coursework he’s struggling in and remembers to ask. She knows his coffee order, which she ascertained from reading the cup. He’s quite fond of her. David is always telling him that life is short and that any girl would be lucky to date him. In less polite terms. 

She’s beautiful. 

She’s all soft smiles and warm disposition, and she’s easy to like. She’s always the first to anticipate your needs, and Aaron can picture how he’d slot into her life, a part of him can see what it would be like to pick her up in his lavish car and drive her to the office, spend the weekends basking in her company. He’d be a good partner- he’d known how, once, and he’d try for her. 

She doesn’t date people she works with. 

The fantasy has gone too far in many ways- a version of life in his mind that lingers. She has morning ritual, and he knows it’s a little creepy he watches it from the perch of his office. She pins her hair up and puts on a coat of her lipstick, before she inevitably forgets she’s wearing it, and leaves a lip-print on her cup. It’s hard not to imagine it with her sat on his kitchen counter. 

But he knows this is a boundary of hers- and even though it’s just in his fantasies, it feels…well, wrong to fantasize about her like that. He’d heard her loud and clear, telling officer Berbrook that she makes a point not to date anyone in the Bureau. It’s arrogant to think he’d be an exception. 

This morning, she’s earlier than he’s ever seen her in the office. She’s got big, wraparound headphones and a skirt on, and two cups. She’d gotten him coffee. He might burst. He speaks out her last name when she realizes he’s in the room, and internally, a warmth blooms in his chest at the wide open smile she grants him. 

“Hi, you!”

“You’re in early.”

“Mm,” she says, her mouth still full of coffee, endearingly eager, “I know, but that coffee shop you love had fritters, and I thought you’d like one.”

Off limits. He feels his eyebrows scrunch into a frown before he speaks. 

“You didn’t have to do that. 

“No one has to do anything. I wanted to. There’s two in there, one for Jack. They keep well.”

A completely ridiculously short amount of time passes before he’s able to speak again, or more accurately as Garcia would put it, word-vomit. 

“I heard officer Berbrook asked you out. That is absolutely inappropriate- would you like me to handle it?”

“Nah,” she says back, “It’s all good.”

“Morgan told me that you have a policy of never dating anyone you work with-“

“I said that about Berbrook, Hotch. It’s not like, an off-limits thing.” She looks down at her feet. Her shoes are green, Aaron notices, helplessly endeared, “y’know, with the right person…I wouldn’t want to close that door, do you know what I mean?”

Her doe eyes peer up at him, and he knows that she’s hear 30 minutes before anyone else is just to be able to get him food, telling him that she’s open to dating coworkers, and once upon a time he could’ve taken a fucking hint. 

In his younger years, when he was bolder and better able to ask for the things he wants, he might’ve asked her out right then. Might have run him and made a dinner reservation, somewhere with candle-light for an evening that would end with her being kissed against a wall or a car. 

But for now, he takes a bite of his fritter and makes some plans. If he’s got a shot with her, that’s a revelation that’s going to need some intense planning and preparing for. He’d like to woo her, if that’s something he could ever get to do. 

“Good fritter.”

“I know, right?” 

[lumiolivier]

Feel Better, Sweetheart

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 2296

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Law x Reader (YN)

You're not feeling too hot...It's a good thing the doctor's cute...but he's also mean. And means well.

“YN?” You knew right then and there.  That gentle, yet viciously biting voice floating through the air that could warm and chill all the same.  You were screwed.  You were hard at work, finishing up some paperwork for the Polar Tang.  Just some logistical things.  Mostly the grocery list for the next time you were at port.  But that was the funny thing…

You were supposed to be in bed already.  You were supposed to have those blankets pulled up to your chin while you slept on your stomach as ordered.  Instead, you were still hard at work.  Despite your violent chills that froze you to the bone, hoarse cough that rattled both your chest and the entire ship every time it came out, and thousand pound head that was just about to the point where it distorted your vision.  You could hardly see straight and yet, you pressed on with all of your regular administrative duties.  Even though it went against both doctor’s and captain’s orders…And you were about to reap what you’ve sown.

“Captain…” You sat up to the best of your ability.  Although it felt like someone was twisting your spine as hard as they could.  You knew mistakes were made.  And you were about to get viciously rammed for them.

“What are you doing in here?” Law asked, leaning against the doorway, his steely gaze glaring you down.  Oh, yeah.  You’re definitely screwed.

“I…” You could hardly speak.  Your voice was shot.  Violent coughing fits did that to you, “I was working on…”

“You were working?” Oh, yeah.  You’re absolutely screwed.  And a pissed off Trafalgar Law was not something you wished on your worst enemies…Well, maybe a few.  But like this?  Oh, no.

“It still needs to get done, Law,” you rolled your eyes.  Although, you immediately regretted it.  You could’ve easily thrown up right then and there.  But you held it back.  Not in front of Law.  You knew the kind of disaster that would breed.

“You do know,” Law moved closer to you.  Granted, under any other circumstances, with that same fire in his eyes, you’d be sweating.  And in a much better way than you sweating out a fever, “I have Penguin and Shachi down here, right?  That they’ve been more than capable of picking up your slack, right?  That you’re supposed to be in bed when you’re this sick, right?  Not just because you need the rest, but so you’re not infecting the rest of the ship, right?”

“I know.” But…Did you?  Did you really?  Of course not.  You were a vicious workaholic and Law knew that the day he brought you onto the Polar Tang.  And yet…You come down with something and all of a sudden, he seems to forget that, “But…!”

“No.”

“Law…”

“Don’t you Law me,” Law groaned, “Go.  Bed.  Now.”

“Fine,” you caved, “But let me finish up with-”

“YN…” Law held his face in his hands.  He knew he’d have to do it the hard way.  Whether you liked it or not, “You’re not finishing anything.  You’re going to go to bed.  I’m going to have Bepo watching the door, so I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Law…”

“No,” Law didn’t even think twice.  He scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.  It was like carrying nothing for him and yet, he carried his everything.

“Law!” You flailed, kicking yourself into another coughing fit.  And you fell limp in his arm.

“You were saying?” You hated when Law got smug.  When you could hear the I told you so in his voice.  When you wanted to lock him in a room in the Polar Tang all by himself and tell him to open a window.  But you knew he meant well.  He always meant well when it came to you.  Especially when you were as sick as you were.

“I told you,” you could finally catch your breath again.  And Law paraded you down the hall to your room, “I still have, cough, cough, shit to do.”

“And I told you.” Or so you thought he was bringing you to your room.  Instead, he went down a few more doors and into his own room, “You need the rest, YN.  You know I wouldn’t be doing this unless you had me worried.  And right now, you do.  There’s a reason why I was keeping you from work.  You don’t need to be wasting your energy on us right now.  You need to get better.  And you’re not going to do that with your face buried in paperwork.  Do you understand?”

You hated when Law babied you.  When he treated you like you were made out of sugar.  You were more than capable of getting better and getting your work done.  But in your defense, you were also getting worse as the days went by and Law had to manhandle you onto his bed.  When he got you tucked in, you started to see his perspective much clearer, “Yes, Captain.”

“Hey,” Law sat at the edge of his bed and pulled you into his lap, “No need to be so formal, sweetheart.  It’s just you and me.  And I know this shit’s rough, but you’ll get over it.  And when you do, we’ll all be waiting for you.  But we also deserve you at your best.  Got it?”

“Fine,” you fell limp in Law’s bed and nuzzled into his thigh, “Hey, Law?”

“Hmm?” Law pushed your hair out of your face, “What do you need?”

“I, uh…” you bit your lip, knowing the further ass reaming you were about to get, “I’m a little hungry.  Do you think you could get me something to eat?”

“I’m just glad your appetite’s coming back,” Law kissed your forehead, “Of course.  Tell you what.  I’ll even make it myself if I have…Hold on.”

And there it was.  There was the sudden realization that would make Law want to kill you even more.  You braced yourself for impact, “What?”

“YN…” Law sighed out, “Have you eaten anything today?”

“You said it yourself, Law,” you threw it back in his face, hoping that could serve as your armor, “My appetite’s been in and out since I’ve been sick.  Cut me some-”

“No.” Law refused to give you any slack.  But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy you were eating again, “Stay here.  If you even so much as move, I will know.  I’ll be right back.  This shouldn’t take long to make.  Ok?”

“Ok.” Not that you really had the energy to move anyway.  You were too wrecked to fight him anymore.  And the warmth in his bed was quite lovely…and it smelled nice, too.  Like sandalwood and leather.  With just a little bit of sea air.  You weren’t complaining.  However, you thought about taking a nap.  Until another coughing fit got to you.  And it rattled your chest like some manner of creature wanted to get out.  You’d be more than happy to let it out if you knew how.

“YN,” Law came in with a bowl in his hand and sat at the edge of his bed.  He put it down on the nightstand and helped you sit up a bit better.  Although, you still wanted to go to sleep.  For just a while. 

“Mmm…” you laid your head on Law’s thigh and shut your eyes.

“No, no,” Law nudged you up to his chest, “I just made you something to eat.  You’ve hardly eaten anything in days.  You’re eating.”

“Mmm…” Your stubbornness would put Law into an early grave.  But in your defense, you were sick.  You were already miserable.  Anything you could do to make yourself comfortable at this point, you were going to do it.  It was Law’s fault for taking you away from your desk.  You were perfectly fine…ish. 

“No,” Law grabbed the spoon out of your bowl and held it up to your mouth, “Eat, YN.”

Lazily, you wrapped your lips around the spoon and finally started eating.  Although, you weren’t expecting it to taste so good.  And a little spicy.  Not that you were mad about it, “What is that?”

“Cora-san called it a medicine ball,” Law sat you up a little more and continued to feed you, “When I’d get sick as a kid like you are now, he’d always get nervous.  So, the least he could do was feed me and keep me from starving to death.  But back when he was still with the Marines, half his platoon ended up coming down with the flu.  There was one who was visiting their base that week.  She made this for everyone.  They were down in the morning.  She fed them.  They were all good to go by the next morning.  And it worked for me when I was younger, too, so I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for you, too.”

It always warmed your heart to hear Law talk about Corazon.  But it broke you all the same that you’d never get to meet him, “What was her name?”

“I don’t remember,” Law thought back, “Belle…?  Bella…?  Something like that.  Rumor has it, she ended up lost at sea.  Cora-san said she was a nice lady.  Wouldn’t surprise me if there was a little something, something between them at some point.  That wasn’t the last time he talked about her.  The man had his moments when he was a hopeless romantic.  It’s weird to think about in hindsight, but whatever made him happy, I guess.”

“Actually…” You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but having Law spoon feeding you was doing something to your heart and soul.  You weren’t sure if it was the deep nostalgic connection or if it was something else.  The thought of being taken care of.  The thought of being up on that pedestal.  The thought of still being asleep at your desk and waking up just enough to realize you were being carried in Law’s arms, but asleep enough to stay that way.  Regardless of the psychological aspect of it, you were fighting back a smile with everything you had, “This is really good, Law.  I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” he spooned another bite of soup into your mouth and cradled your cheek in his palm, “I wish we had some bread, too.  Not that this won’t give you everything you need, but something more substantial in your stomach would be nice, too.”

“I’ll make some when I get better.”

“But,” Law put the bowl on the nightstand, “You need to get better first.  And you can’t do that if you’re busting your ass at your desk.  I’d rather not have to peel you off your chair again.  Or worse, from off the floor.  I don’t need you passing out on me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry…” You winced a bit as a jolt of pain ran through your head.

“No need for apologies now,” Law settled you, making sure you were covered up.  He checked you quickly for a fever.  The back of his hand on your forehead felt phenomenal, “Your fever’s still a little too high for my liking.  I’m going to go get you some medicine and then, I’ll let you get some sleep.  When was the last time you got a full, continuous eight hours?”

“Uh…” In all honesty, you couldn’t think of the last time you got decent sleep.  That may have attributed to your current predicament.  But you knew telling Law would just result in a verbal spanking and you didn’t have the lecture in you today, “I’m not entirely sure.  I’ve been sleeping, though!  Does that count for something?”

“More than it should,” Law knew better.  He knew your sleeping habits were…less than stellar.  And he’s tried.  Bless him, he’s tried to do everything in his power to try and get you on a normal sleeping schedule, but it’s only led to you spending more nights on watch duty than anything else, “Some sleep is better than no sleep, I suppose.  But you are going to sleep tonight.  I will make sure of it.”

“And how do you propose you’ll do that, Dr. Trafalgar?” you taunted him, knowing your body didn’t allow you much for sleep anyway, “Are you going to put me in a coma?”

“Why would I put you in a coma?” Law chuckled under his breath, “You forget where you are.  You’re in my bed.  And I know for a fact that if there’s anywhere on the entire ship you can sleep and sleep hard, it’s right here.  Once I give you your last dose of medicine for the night, I’ll risk myself getting sick for you getting a decent night’s sleep.  I will gladly share my bed with you.”

Although the sentiment was touching, you knew the real reason he was staying with you, “You just want to make sure I stay in bed like you told me to, don’t you?”

“I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t an ulterior motive,” Law confessed, already pulling you into his arms, “But I also can’t be too mad at this either.  I miss you, YN.  Sure, I’ve been taking care of you for the last couple days, but I miss you.  There’s a big difference between having you as my patient and having you as my girlfriend.  And I miss the latter.”

Law didn’t get sentimental often.  But hearing him pour his heart out…at least as much as Law could…melted you inside.  You laid your head in his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, and you shut your eyes, “Ok.  Stay with me.”

“That’s the plan,” Law kissed the top of your head and pulled your blankets over you, “Good night, YN.  I love you…Feel better, sweetheart…”

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you're in the hive, the other bees assume you're supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Summary:

Virgil accidentally gets absorbed by his best friend's brother's polycule.

In his defense, they keep feeding him every time they see him, and Patton's cooking is really good.

Chapter 1: Halloween Party

Wordcount: 1.9K

~

There are a lot of people Virgil doesn't know at this party. Remus is here, somewhere, and Virgil needs to find him again before the party ends, because Remus was his ride and he doesn't want to get left here. Janus is here too though, and Virgil doesn't think Janus would let Remus leave without him, and he's sure Remus wouldn't desert Janus, so he's trying not to worry too much about the fact that he doesn't currently know where Remus is.

But that's it for people Virgil knows, and Remus didn't even bother to introduce him to anyone before fucking off to who knows where, and Virgil’s certainly not going to walk up to a random stranger and introduce himself, so he's currently appreciating the snack table. If he's eating or deliberating on what to eat next, he can't be expected to talk to anybody, right?

“’Scuse me, itsy bitsy,” someone says from behind him, and Virgil turns to see a vaguely familiar man in a dazzling prince costume holding a fresh plate of deviled eggs.

Virgil moves so that the prince dude can set the plate down on a clear spot on the table, and frowns. “I'm taller than you, Princey.”

Prince dude shrugs, plucks one of the eggs up, and takes a large bite. “Lucky you, or we'd've had to ask you to vacate the premises,” he says. “No little spiders allowed, real or fake.”

Which, yeah, now that he's mentioned it, Virgil had noted an extreme lack of spider-themed decorations, which is unusual for Halloween. Usually there'd at least be spiderweb cupcakes, but the cupcakes at this party are mostly cute ghosts.

There's probably a good reason for that, Virgil realizes with a sinking feeling. “Should I change?”

“You got another costume handy, or were you planning on spinning a spider-silk cocoon and metamorphosing into a butterfly?”

Virgil grimaces. “No,” he admits.

Prince Dude considers him. “It's not very realistic,” he says, which is true. Virgil hadn't been going for realism, he'd been going for passable costume I can make on short notice. He's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, and he'd cut some pool noodles in half and wrapped them in more black cloth and stuck them to his back for the other four legs. It had been a pain to get them to stay in place properly, actually, and he'd ended up sewing their wrappings to the back of his hoodie in order to keep them where he wanted them. He'd been pretty proud of it, given that Remus had dropped “we're going to a costume party at my brother's house” on him like an hour beforehand, but now he's wishing he'd come up with any other idea. He could have put a sheet over his head and been a ghost, or something. Granted, that would have required him to have a sheet that was both white and that he was willing to cut holes in, which he didn't, but still.

Prince Dude continues to quietly scrutinize Virgil, and he wants to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, the guy shrugs and says, “Might be best to ask the scaredy-cat himself. Wait here, I'll be back.” And he saunters off before Virgil can answer.

For lack of anything better to do, Virgil picks up a deviled egg and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It's really tasty, actually, and now he's wishing he'd taken smaller bites rather than horking it down in one.

Virgil had thought that Princey was just being mean with the “scaredy-cat” thing, but the guy he's talking to now actually is dressed as a calico cat. Prince Dude points back at Virgil, and Mister Calico Cat glances in his direction, then turns back to Princey. Virgil can't hear what they're saying, but he supposes Prince Dude must've asked Calico if Virgil’s costume was too creepy crawly scary.

They talk for way longer than Virgil had expected, and he can't tell if Calico's response was more like “No, he's fine,” or more along the lines of “Yes, that's terrifying, please have him removed immediately from my sight and also my home.”

He occupies himself with another deviled egg. If he's going to get kicked out, he might as well enjoy some more of this tasty food first.

Oh, fuck. Remus.

Remus isn't going to want to leave early just to take Virgil home, and Virgil still doesn't know where he even is! Fuck!

Well, Remus could have warned him not to be a spider, so if Virgil gets kicked out of the party it'll be at least partly Remus's fault. Virgil doesn't know anybody here, but Remus knows at least half these people, and if Calico’s spider aversion is enough that there are no spider-themed decorations in the house on Halloween, that sounds like the kind of thing Remus would know about.

Granted, Remus revels in being gross and annoying, but still! He's not a total dick. He should have told Virgil.

Fucker.

Calico vanishes into the other room, and Prince Dude comes back over to Virgil. He doesn't look like he's about to kick Virgil to the curb, at least. Virgil braces himself anyway.

“Good news!” Princey says with a grin. “Li’l Mister Muffet says you don't look like a creepy crawly death dealer and he doesn't have the urge to remove you with arson!”

Virgil blinks. “...gooood?” he says slowly. He hadn't even considered kill it with fire being a potential response to his costume. That would have been worse than just getting kicked out of the party, actually.

“Honestly you're much more Doc Ock in silhouette, Spider-Man,” Princey continues. “That helps a lot.”

Virgil glances back at where Prince Dude and Calico had been chatting. “So he didn't leave the room because he can't stand the sight of me?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, he wanted to make another plate of horse devours,” Princey says, reaching past Virgil to grab a cupcake off the table. This one has a little frosting bat.

“A plate of what?” Virgil says, because surely he didn't hear that right.

“Little snacks,” Prince Dude clarifies instead of repeating himself. “Our fridge is crammed with delicious bits and bobs. It's been so hard to resist the temptation to eat them before the party.” He bites appreciatively into his cupcake, then adds with his mouth full, “You'd think he wouldn't notice what with how much he made, but nooo, sneak one chocolate covered cherry before party time and it's a lengthy scolding for you!” Princey sighs dramatically, then cheerfully devours the rest of his cupcake.

“...hors d'oeuvres?” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Yeah, a couple ordervs of deviled eggs, cheese and crackers, and those scrumptious little pinwheel things,” Princey says. Virgil’s not sure if Princey actually doesn't know how hors d'oeuvres is pronounced, or if he's messing with him, but then Princey gives him a mischievous grin that one, confirms that yes, Princey does know what he's doing, and two, is so familiar that it freezes Virgil in place as the pieces click together in his brain.

The lack of a mustache makes Prince Dude's face look different, and so does the way he did his makeup, and he carries himself differently, but it's undeniable all the same: Virgil knows that grin.

This is Remus's twin brother.

Now that he's connected the dots (you haven't connected shit) the family resemblance is clear even to Virgil’s honestly rather faceblind eyes.

This is Remus's brother, and it's his house they're partying at.

… Virgil doesn't remember the guy's name.

Fuck, he should've made sure he at least knew who the party hosts were, especially the one related to his mischief goblin of a best friend.

Well he can't exactly ask now, can he?

“Also like, five types of cupcakes,” Princey continues, oblivious to Virgil’s inner turmoil. “Seriously, have you tried the cupcakes? Chef Boiardelightful made multiple separate batches of different flavors, from scratch. And they're all delicious!”

Virgil smirks. “And did you try to snitch them before the party too?”

Princey gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such a thing!?” he protests with exactly as much dramatic emotion as Virgil would expect from Remus's twin. “For your information, I did not! I merely sampled a portion of the batter left on the spatula after the cupcakes had gone into the oven. Also some of the frosting.”

“He means that he licked the bowls clean,” says a new voice, and Virgil does not jump out of his skin, thank you very much. And even if he did jolt a little, it's nothing to the startled squawk Princey emits.

Calico's back, holding a platter of little finger sandwiches on toothpicks. He offers them up to Virgil, who takes one. “Thanks.”

“No worries, kiddo!” Calico says cheerfully, and puts the rest of the platter down on the snack table. Princey plucks up two sandwiches by their toothpicks, and gets a stern look in response. “Make sure to leave some for the guests,” Calico scolds.

“My delightful and beloved Patissier,” Princey says, cupping Calico's face gently with his free hand. “I assure you that each of our guests could have a heaping plateful of food and we would still have leftovers until next Tuesday. No-one will be going home hungry.”

It really is an impressive spread. Everything Virgil’s tried has been really good. Remus really could have played up the ‘free food’ angle more when trying to convince Virgil to come. If he'd known the food would be this good, then overriding his usual party-related reservations—it's gonna be loud, there will be a lot of people, I don't know anybody, etc—would have been a lot easier. Then again, Virgil probably wouldn't have believed him. He'd mostly been expecting pizza and cheap beer, honestly, not– not homemade delicacies.

The tiny sandwich Calico gave him is lightly toasted, with some kind of sliced-meat-and-cream-cheese filling, and a little green leafy garnish on top. It definitely looks much fancier than most things Virgil eats, and he can understand why Calico doesn't want Princey to eat them all. That probably took a decent amount of effort. He almost feels bad eating it himself, except that Calico had offered it to him specifically, and it would probably be more rude at this point to not eat it.

“Are you sure my costume is okay?” Virgil asks, interrupting the minor squabble Princey and Calico had fallen into.

“Oh, yes, you're fine,” Calico assures him. “Trust me, if you were pinging my brain as an actual spider I wouldn't be in the room right now, let alone standing next to you.”

“Really, cause most cats I know would eat a spider soon as look at it,” Virgil quips, and is rewarded with Calico laughing.

“That wouldn't be very good host-ly of me, now would it?” he says. “I would never eat a guest!”

“Not unless they're a reptile with scallions,” Princey teases, and Calico flushes.

“Hey!” he protests, swatting Princey's shoulder with one hand and trying to cover his extremely red face with the other. Virgil wonders what the reference was, exactly, but doesn't think it's his place to ask. It seems rather personal, from how hard Calico is blushing.

…maybe he'll ask Remus later if he knows what the story there is.

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Morning After

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

snowflakes dancing on the wind

the wistful wyvern, chapter one

a/n: this series is the second instalment i my eflorr trilogy. if you haven't already read fused with the foe, then i'd highly recommend reading that first so that you know what's going on.

summary: three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either. 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, flashbacks, alcohol consumption, kissing, dragon attack, childbirth (with very ronja rövardotter timing), blood, weapons, violence, crying

word count: 4296

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TEN YEARS AGO, ON THE THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF WINTER 848 PR

A biting chill swirled through the echoing halls of Yoslor Penitentiary that noon when two gruff guards yanked you from your cell and dragged you to the far side wing of the prison. 

Passing countless doors, at last, they arrived at one with someone already on patrol on the outside. As a rusty key twisted in the lock with a reverberating click, the guard, still barely letting your feet skim the dirty floor, practically shoved you inside the chamber. 

As they threw you down into a cold chair and yanked at your chains to fasten them in a strong loop smelted into the stone floor by your feet, a voice suddenly caught your ears and caused your squinting eyes to flicker up. 

“Easy, boys! No need to drag her by the scruff of her neck as if she were a cat and not an eighteen-year-old girl,” you noticed the man already seated on the opposite side of the table, “would you please uncuff her?” he requested with an outstretched hand, a command, to your surprise, the guards obeyed, “thank you,” he leaned back in his seat as the manacles fell from your sore wrists. 

Rubbing the angry marks wrapped around your joints, a shiver ran through you as you saw the cloud of your exhale clear in the air. 

When the guards had settled on either side of the exit behind you, the blonde stranger opposing you tilted his head and asked, “do you know who I am?” 

“Should I know who you are?” your gaze lifted from your wrists and met his, “look man,” you sighed heavily, “if I at some point stole something from you, I don’t have it anymore. I don’t really have much of anything anymore in here,” a short and dry chuckle tied a bow on your statement. 

With his stare never straying, his chin then tilted slightly as he said, “I am Steven Grant Rogers, crown prince of Eflorr,” his title rolled off his tongue with such ease as if it didn’t have any merit at all, “and you’re Y/n Y/l/n, daughter of the famed One-eyed Ollie,” he rested his forearms against the table’s edge, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Blinking back at the royal, your brows furrowed softly at the mystery of why a man such as him would pay someone like you the time of day, “…alright, uh, sure.”

“We’ve kept an eye on you for a very long time, long before your father slipped away and made you take the fall for the break-in at the Sulmier estate,” your jaw couldn’t help but clench at the memory, “you’re very talented.”

“Yeah, can you just hurry up and tell me what you want?” you grunted as your knee tensely bounced beneath the table, “they’re serving soup today for supper and I’d rather not miss it.”

Huffing out what seemed like an amused breath, the prince glanced down a moment as he announced, “I have a proposition for you,” he met your gaze once more, “either you can pay for your father’s crimes here in prison or you can come work for me,” he offered slowly, “twenty years either way, but in here you will be treated as, well, essentially an animal,” his eyes briefly flicked around the cold chamber, “whereas with me you will be just as any other warden. You will have the same rights, the same opportunities, maybe even a home by the end of it.”

“…you wanna give me a job?” you squinted back at him. 

To which he simply nodded, “yes.” 

“Me?” your eyebrows only seemed to knit together tighter. 

“Like I said, you’re very talented. I could use someone of your skillset,” he then leaned back in his seat, “so, I’ll give you some time to decide,” he clasped his hands together in his lap, “if you don’t show up at Fort Borün before all the snow has melted, then let’s just say that you wouldn’t be able to get very far with the bounty there’ll be on your head.”

The heavy ivory pelts that made up your cloak billowed around your frame as the piercing wind whirled it around. You had to lean forward a bit to even make any headway in the howling blizzard that coursed around you. Icy snowflakes struck the upper part of your features that the tugged-up scarf didn’t cover. 

Squinting in the snowstorm as you crested the hill and walked under the archway, you glanced above and spotted icicles hanging from the drawn-up portcullis. 

As you glanced around the courtyard and the snow-dusted castle looming in the background, your feet soon carried you over towards a pair of bundled-up wardens posted outside a door. 

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the lewd joke one of them was halfway through telling, “could any of you–” 

But it wasn’t till the soldier to the right jumped and yelped, “ah, by Apa!” that it occurred to you just how camouflaged your frosty visage had been in the blizzard.

“Holy fuck!” the other one clutched his heart after nearly drawing the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Oh gods, sorry. Thought you were a snowman some fucking pixies had put a curse on,” the first knight, whose head was warmed by a thick knitted cap, steadied his breathing with a short laugh, “what do you need?”

Glancing between them, you asked, “could you point me in the direction of Master Tully’s office?”

“Ah,” the beanie-wearing warden nodded, “you’re a new recruit?”

Stifling a laugh, you tilted your head and huffed, “you could say that.” 

“I’ll show you,” the dark-haired one gestured, “come with me.”

“Thanks,” you offered him a small smile as he then held the door behind them open for you to enter first. 

The dining hall of the bustling barracks that you entered nearly gave you whiplash with the warm contrast it had to the freezing environment you’d just been trudging through for weeks. The fireplace down on the far wall warmed the interior and lit up the faces of the soldiers halfway through their meals. 

As you pulled back your snow-dusted hood and tugged your frosty scarf down to expose your nose and mouth, your palm attempted to brush some of the flakes off of you. 

“He’s right over there,” your guide pointed to the balding man sitting alone at a table in the corner of the chamber, before he disappeared from your side and joined some comrades on a long bench, sneakily stealing a chunk of bread from one of their bowls. 

Slowly stepping closer to the older man, hunched over some parchments as he dipped and softened a crusty piece of bread in his stew, you carefully croaked, “master Tully?”

“Aye?” he lifted his gaze to find you. 

“Hi, I was told to come talk to you,” you stepped closer and reached out your hand, “I’m Y/n, I don’t know if you–”

“Ah, yes, Y/n! Great to have you on board, lass,” his gruff hand swiftly gave yours a shake, “you must be tired after that long journey, so why don’t you grab a bowl,” he briefly pointed to the humble buffet off to the side, “have a wee rest, and then we’ll sit down and discuss everything after that, yeah?”

Offering him a light nod, you agreed, “sounds good, sir.” 

As you wandered over to fill up a bowl, Tully waved over the warden who’d shown you the way. 

“Barnes?” 

Swiftly, the soldier rose from his seat, “yes, sir?”

“Go show Y/n her quarters,” Tully returned his attention towards his stew. 

Barnes’ dark brows then knitted together, “who’s Y/n?” to which his commander simply pointed with the hand still clutching a chunk of bread, “oh…” the warden’s glance followed the trail, “right…” before raising his voice to catch your ears, “oi, snow!” you didn’t turn around even as he neared, “hey!”

Dragging the curve of a spoon from your lips when you finally noticed his stare, you finally perked up, “who, me?” and pointed to yourself. 

“Yeah you,” he didn’t slow down as he gestured for you to shadow him, “come.”

“Oh, uh,” with the bowl of stew still in your gasp, you tried not to spill as you scurried to keep up, “my name is actually Y/n,” you corrected him.

Halting his step momentarily, he turned and reached out an inked hand for you to shake, “Bucky,” a small smirk tugged at his lips as your eyes finally got the chance to wash over his visage now that his striking features weren’t veiled by a blizzard, “welcome aboard, snow.”

PRESENT DAY

You felt like somehow you should have predicted that this would be your welcome home greeting. That this striking heartbreak could have somehow been prevented if you’d only remembered when training was usually held. 

It was just rubbing salt into the wound you’d been trying so fiercely to mend. Yet, it was still there, open and festering, bleeding till you nearly passed out. You couldn’t start doing that again, purposely seeking out the salt just to feel something, just to for a single second feel good before reality settled in again. Perhaps your timing had been on purpose, perhaps your subconscious had just been so strong that it had forced you to return home right at the time that practice was held in the middle of the courtyard, and none other than Bucky stood in the centre, shirtless and glistening with sweat, as he ran the newcomers through a drill, sparring with each and every one of them till they yielded. 

You tried to get your feet to move again, you truly did, but you couldn’t keep walking past, couldn’t look away, could barely even breathe as he moved like water through the trainees.

But then suddenly, as your fiddling fingers had found the long, braided leather cord wrapped nearly a dozen times around your wrist to form a bracelet, the playful comment that left Bucky’s lips to egg the recruits on fell short, as his ocean eyes flickered up to find you, only worsening the bittersweet agony you were in.

THREE YEARS AGO, ON THE SEVENTY-SECOND DAY OF AUTUMN 855 PR

“Oh, wow,” Bucky swiftly lowered his goblet from his lips and exclaimed as his stare found you, right as you passed over the threshold and entered the bustling ballroom, “holy shit.”

Closing the short distance between you as he was standing off to the side, your skin prickled at his alarm, “what?”

“No, just–, you’re in a dress,” his gaze danced across the emerald silk draped around your form, the fabric’s shade made you stand out amidst all of the warm harvest fest decorations, “never thought I’d see the day…”

“Well, they aren’t really that practical in our line of work, so–” 

“Oh, I beg to differ…” he smirked, taking a sip of wine which by the looks of it was in no way his first cup, “I think you should always be dressed like this…” slowly stepping closer, his stare continued to lick you up in a way it never had before, “especially with a neckline as low cut as that,” as his eyes brashly dipped to your cleavage, your hand couldn’t help but shoot up to tug it up a bit more, a nervous instinct that only conjured a deep chuckle within his chest, “happy harvest fest to me.”

With cheeks burning hotter than the sun, you coughed out, “you–, uh, you look good as well.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he cheekily cocked a brow and leaned in a bit closer, causing your spine to press up against the wall behind you, “how good?” 

As your heart fluttered and nearly flew out of your chest, you heard yourself sputter, “oh, well, I mean, you always look good, you just–, uh…” your words then poofed away into nothing as he nonchalantly tugged a stray piece of hair behind your ear and let his touch linger on your heated cheek, “uhm…” 

“I just what, snow?” he purred, and you swore you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips. 

“You–… you–…” 

But before your wildest dreams could come true, an individual accidentally bumped into Bucky and lodged him far enough away from you to snuff out your hopes of the taste of his lips. 

“Wow,” the guy briefly clapped Bucky’s wide shoulder, “sorry, mate.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled as the fella went on his way. Raising up his goblet for another sip, he then turned his attention back to you, “so,” his grin was still bright on his features, “you gonna let me dance with you tonight?” 

“Dance?” your eyes grew wide, “oh, y-yeah,” you tried your best, though still failed to sound casual, “sure, if you want to.”

“Great,” he held your gaze a moment longer before saying, “I’m gonna go grab another drink, you want anything?” 

“No thanks, I’m good,” though there was now a decent enough distance betwixt you two, you still stood virtually plastered against the wall. 

“Alright,” he breathed as he began to back up, offering your gown one last glance before he disappeared, “that dress…” his head gently shook from side to side as a long exhale flowed from his lungs, “gods, you look way too hot tonight, it’s not fair.”

When his visage was no longer in sight, you slumped down a bit and took a generous breather, the grin on your face nearly making your cheeks ache. 

After your pulse had settled back from the nervous butterfly he had transformed it into, a fellow warden spotted you and shouted. 

“Hey, Y/n!” he waved for you to come over and join the little cluster he was on the edge of, “you’re still here! I thought you’d left already with lord fancy pants or whatever.”

“Lord Witherington, and yeah, it’s first in the morning that the ship leaves port,” you walked up to him. 

“Well, at least you get to enjoy one last harvest fest extravaganza before becoming a babysitter.”

“Hey, he is doing important research up in Efira, in areas that haven’t been explored since Rimesunder’s demise,” you raised a slightly defensive hand as you noted the historical significance, “it’s an honour to protect him.”

“Yeah, yeah, honour and all that crap,” he sighed light-heartedly as he raised his mug up to his lips, “but you still have time to get seriously fucked up tonight.”

“So that I can be both seasick and hungover tomorrow?”

“So that you can for once cut loose and have one last fun night before you leave!” 

Marinating on his point a moment, your thoughts couldn’t help but float away to Bucky. 

What if tonight was the night? What if you just finally took the leap and told him how you felt? 

Then, like a clock arm clicking into the new hour, you made your decision. 

“Give me that,” you grabbed the drink out of his hands before he could take another sip. 

“Wow, that’s what I’m talking about,” the soldier cheered as you swiftly downed the strong brew, “yeah!”

“Gods,” your face screwed up when you swallowed the last gulp, “that’s disgusting. What is that?”

“My uncle’s mead.”

“Urgh,” the sickly sweet taste burned on your tongue. 

“Yeah, he’s not that good at it,” he accepted the mug as you passed it back in his grasp, “but it’ll sure get you pissed in two sips or less.”

Hoping that the half tankard you’d downed would grant you the courage you sought, you glanced around the ballroom, “I gotta–, uh, did you see where Buck went?” and when he then pointed out towards the main hallway, you offered him a small smile, “thanks,” before disappearing down that way. 

You felt like you were gonna be sick as you walked through the crowds. But if it was from the nerves or the mead that was already making you dizzy, that you weren’t sure of. 

As you searched the castle, carefully poking your head into drawing rooms and narrow hallways, you found yourself anxiously muttering just beneath your breath. 

“…I just thought you should know that I like you–, no, not like that…” you shook your head at your tongue-tied attempt at figuring out how you’d profess to him, “James, I have been in love with you since the day I met yo­u–, no, that’s stupid, I never call him James, that would just be weird–” 

Your murmuring then hushed as you turned down a secluded hallway and spotted the very warden that you had combed the palace for, down towards the end of it. 

The only thing was, he wasn’t alone.

Sliding deeper into the shadows, you couldn’t spare yourself the heartache and not look. 

Bucky’s lips were attached to the long neck of some leggy blonde. Her quiet whimpers echoed against the fortress walls as he felt her up and surely littered her skin with heated lavender marks. 

Suddenly, they shifted, turning till Bucky’s back was pressed up against the walls and, to your surprise, now no longer obscured by his bulky physique, another lady, a redhead, appeared beside the hickey-adored one. 

“So,” the redhead bit her lip as she slid her palm down to pet the palpable tent in his pants, “are you gonna show us to your chambers or what?”

“Yes,” he breathlessly nodded, “yes I am,” before seizing their hands, “right this way,” they then stumbled further down the dark hallway till they disappeared from your sight, leaving you frozen in the engulfing shadows with tears silently streaming down your face. 

PRESENT DAY

“Snow?” his eyes grew as wide as his grin, “gods, it is you!” Bucky then all but forgot about the training session he was in the middle of teaching and crossed the courtyard, “it’s really you!” once his brisk stride reached you, he plucked you up into his brawny arms and spun you around, “you’re back!” 

As soon as your feet touched the ground again, you took a large step back, though hated how the distance gave you a better view of his naked torso.

“Hi, Bucky,” you uttered, readjusting the bag strung over your back. 

Why did his touch still have to make your heart flutter? 

“Three years,” he placed a wide palm on your shoulder, “three fucking years!”

Three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either. 

“Yeah, you–, uh,” you swallowed the thickness of emotions that peeked through in your tone, “you grew a beard.” 

“And you still look exactly the same…” his gaze washed over you as a soft sigh flowed from his lungs, “gods, I’ve missed you,” he then tilted his head and asked, “you missed me?”

“I–,” blinking back into the stormy sea of his eyes, you felt your frame begin to tremble at the feelings that were still as alive as ever, “uhm…” averting your gaze, you had to get away before everything burst, “I need to go report to the king,”

“Oh, yeah, right,” his electric touch slid from your shoulder, “last I saw, he and the queen were in the blue drawing room. You haven't met her yet! She’s kind, you’ll like her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you refused to look back at him as you turned towards the main entrance to the castle. 

And as you began to walk away, you heard his voice call after you, “really is good to have you back, snow!”

Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, a fleeting gasp escaped you as you saw the queen by the open window, shooting arrows after the beast that whirled outside. 

“Your majesty,” you exclaimed as your eyes briefly flickered to her pregnant belly, “there you are!” you then swiftly crossed the room to yank open the small servant’s door, “this way!” 

Reluctantly, the royal stepped back from the window, smoke and ash gushing into the castle from the opening, and followed you up the revealed stone spiral staircase. 

As you rushed up the tower, your glances didn’t just dart back to the queen, only a few paces behind you, but every time you passed one of the narrow windows, your vision couldn’t help but catch the chaos down below.

The stubborn dragon, that had plagued the town of Borün for two whole years now, had returned. 

With daggers still tight in your grasp, you tried not to think about the people you knew to be down there in the fray, wonder if they had all been burned to a crisp, but instead attempted to shake it off and focus on your mission at hand. The king had commanded you to flee the fight and protect his wife and unborn child. 

A glint of fire reflected in the queen’s eyes as you glanced back at her to find her pace halted and her palm clutched on her stomach as she stifled a groan. 

“My queen,” you dropped back down a step closer to her, “are you–”

“I’m fine,” she waved you off and drew in a shaky breath, “keep going, I’m right behind you.”

Soon at the top of the tower, you pushed the door open and held it for the noble to enter, your glance though darting out the window as she passed. 

But when a low groan seeped from her throat, your gaze darted back to her with worry, “alright, that really doesn’t sound that good,” the door slammed behind you as you sheathed your weapons and stepped closer to her, “did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m–, ah! I’m alright,” she uttered through gritted teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as one hand reached out for the wall while the other stayed on her belly, “fuck…” 

Glancing down towards her hand as it rubbed in slow, soothing circles, your eyes then widened, “are you–… your majesty, a-are you–”

“In labour?” her eyes barely opened as she met your tense gaze, “yeah. My waters broke a while ago.”

“Oh gods!” now you truly wished you’d just stayed down with the dragon, “now? Here? I–, I–, wha–, can’t you just turn it off?”

Letting both her quiver and bow slide off her frame and drop to the floor, she let out a strained exhale, “not really how it works.” 

“I–, I–, okay, I don’t know what to do–”

“That’s fine,” her arm then reached out for your support, “I do,” you carefully helped her further into the chamber before she sank down a wall till she was seated on the floor, her pale yellow gown bunching around her legs, “alright, I’m gonna need one of your knives when its time to cut the umbilical cord.”

“O-okay,” eyes still wide, you checked your belt just in case they’d mysteriously disappeared in your panic. 

Noticing the terrified expression on your face, the queen’s head tilted slightly as she said, “Y/l/n, please don’t pass out on me, I need you here with me.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna pass out,” you rushed to reply, though weren’t completely convinced yourself, “I just–, w-what do I do? Do I do anything?”

Raising up her fingers, she panted, “take my hand.”

“Alright, yes, of course,” you swiftly grabbed her palm. 

You had no idea how much time passed, if your hand would eventually fall off for how hard she was squeezing it, or even how many times the royal’s groans, which threatened to morph into screams, reverberated off the palace walls and mixed with the chaos rumbling from outside. 

Then suddenly, an echo shot through the castle, “dove!” and though she couldn’t find it in her to yell back, the familiar voice visibly thawed something within the queen. 

“Up here!” you yelled as loudly as you could. 

Swiftly, the door was kicked down, and in stormed a honey-haired man, whose bloodstained shield and stout axe promptly dropped to the floor with a loud clang. 

“Steve!” the queen cried out through the relieved smile that softened her pained expression, “you’re here!”

“Yeah,” he looked as if a feather could have knocked him over, “I’m here, I’m here,” the king then rushed to switch places with you, kneeling beside his wife and clutching her hand in both of his, “what fucking timing our daughter has,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of him as he bought the back of her palm up to his lips and planted a chased peck upon it, “not even born yet and she already wants to join the fray,” he uttered, conjuring a slight laugh to crack through her pain, “a real fighter, just like her mom.”

Gazing up at him, a sombreness suddenly washed over her features as she then murmured, “my love, if I don’t–”

“No,” he swiftly cut her off, “that’s not gonna happen, you hear me? History won’t repeat itself, you’ve done everything in your power to make that so. You can do this, dove. I know you can.” 

He held her hand through it all, took the sting as each one of her nails broke his skin and every ear-piercing curse she threw at him, till a new life was suddenly in the room, laying against the exposed skin on her mother’s chest and wailing about the sudden change in scenery.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[lon3rlife]

“I promise you that you’re not alone”

Rick Sanchez x Reader

Rick comforts you during a major depressive episode

I haven’t been doing very well for the past few weeks and writing these are one of my only sources of comfort rn tbh

It’s been getting bad again and you knew it. It’s been a struggle to even get out of bed to walk a few feet to your kitchen, your room was in shambles, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to shower. You just get like this and you know eventually you’ll get out of it, but even though you know it will eventually pass you feel so stuck in despair you feel like continuing this downward spiral until you reach rock bottom. As you lay in your bed staring at the bare wall hoping for this to all go away you get a text from Rick.

You don’t even have the energy to reach over to grab your phone, but after a few minutes you finally reach over to see what it has to say.

“Hey. Are you doing okay? I’m coming over. Do you need anything?“

Rick knows how you feel. He really does. He understands how you feel and doesn’t think of you any less. He knows when things get hard to handle and how he can make things just a little easier for you.

You don’t even have time to reply when a green light appears in your room and Rick walks in with a sympathetic smile and gets next to you in bed without saying anything.

You turn to your side and he gently tucks a strand of your messed up hair behind your ear and softly kisses your forehead.

You guys lay together for a while, nothing needed to be said. Rick waited till you felt like talking about it.

“I’ve been doing so shitty. I’m sorry.” You whisper out

“There’s nothing to be sorry about you’re doing the best you can, and I know how hard it is. Trust me. I know it’s not easy to come out of this but I’ll help you. Small steps. Little by little it will get better I promise.” He says pulling you a little closer to him as you hold on his hand softly playing with his fingers.

“I can help you clean up, and get you something to eat. Anything you want, you call the shots.” He says

“Can we please just lay like this for a while I just need to be with you right now.” You say, softly nuzzling yourself to be as close to him as possible.

“Of course baby, anything you need I’ll be here I promise .” He whispers as you close your eyes embracing him until you finally get to sleep.

You wake up the next morning, still feeling stuck in an endless loop. You lift your head off your pillow and look around your room noticing it’s cleaner than it was last night. Granted there’s still some dirty clothes on your chair, but it feels a lot less claustrophobic.

You can smell coffee being made from the kitchen, and you reluctantly make your way out of bed to try to get some food in you.

“Good morning sweetheart.” Rick smiles, a genuine smile filled with nothing but love.

“I-uh made pancakes and coffee, I think it will be good to eat an actual breakfast.”

He sits with you at the table eating with you, the food definitely making your brain feel less foggy.

“Thank you for cleaning my room. You didn’t have to do that you know.” You sleepily smile

He doesn’t even respond, just smiles and takes another bite of his breakfast

The food and small caffeine boost truly helped your head feel a bit clearer. You can’t remember the last time you ate a proper meal, but eating breakfast with the person you loved most definitely boosted your mood. It was something so small but meant so much to you, Rick as well.

After sitting at the dining table for a while just talking and enjoying each others company you guys make your way over to your couch just to lay together, in a new spot other than your bed for a small change of scenery.

“I love you so much you’re so strong.” Rick says running his fingers through your hair as you lay on his chest.

You feel genuine love for him, the love you never would have imagined you would ever feel for someone. You know that you have issues, but he does to, and that’s what makes him so perfect for you. You both understand each other in such complex ways you wouldn’t trade for the world.

[virtualvault]

No One Compares

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!reader

Summary: You're going to a party where Steven knows someone who has a crush on you will also be attending. Before you go, he wants to remind you what you have waiting for you at home.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+ ONLY, oral(f) receiving, possessive thoughts/ behavior, fingering, praise, biting (Let me know if I missed anything :))

Word Count: 1.6 k

A/N: This popped into my head the other night and I needed to purge it from my system. Still getting a feel for this whole writing thing and feedback is more than welcome!!

Steven paces back and forth in front of the bathroom door, planning his next move carefully. You’re about to go out for your friend’s birthday dinner and he normally has no problem with you going out, except that he knows he’ll miss you and be a needy mess until you get back. But tonight, you’re going to your best friend Tasha's birthday dinner. He loves all your friends but there is one person he does not want you around. Tasha's brother, Jackson.

You've been friends with Tasha since you were little, and she's like a sister to you. Her brother Jackson had a small crush on you growing up and it seems his feelings have continued into adulthood. You never minded his advances, considering he never made any moves beyond harmless flirting, but what did bother you was that he didn’t back off even when you informed him you were in a relationship. He’s tame when it’s just you but when Steven is there, he turns his antics up to one hundred. It can be annoying, but you don't want to run and tattle on him to Tasha about her brother's little crush. You don't want to cause any problems, and since he never actually attempts to make a move on you, you've decided to just suck it up and deal with it, not wanting to create a big fuss.

As he stands in the hallway, Steven's mind floods with the memories of all the times Jackson has tried to make a pass at you right in front of him and he decides he needs to take action. With a huff, Steven storms into the bathroom and wraps his arm around your waist. You had just set everything out to start getting ready, and you greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

You think he will leave you be when he notices you are about to start doing your makeup, but instead he brings his hands up to your chest, grabbing both breasts and he pulls you flush against his chest. He starts kissing up and down your neck and you try to wriggle out of his grasp, knowing if you put this off any longer you are going to be late.

"Steven, what's gotten into you?" you ask, although you already know. He always gets like this when you have somewhere to go, trying to get you to stay home and hop into bed with him instead. You think he's just being needy as usual, but you have no idea this has anything to do with Jackson. Yes, you know it makes him uncomfortable when he's around, but the first time he saw how Jackson acted around you, you explained how it would cause more problems to address and was best to just try to ignore it. He accepted, understanding how you didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship with Tasha.

Your boyfriend knows you would never do anything with Jackson. You're loyal and loving and he trusts you more than anyone on Earth, and he knows you would never betray him. He also knows that you didn't actually like Jackson, but sometimes you would play along, flirting back with him a bit to try and keep things from being awkward. Steven knows it’s all fake, but even seeing you feign interest in that guy made him want to lay you down and fuck you so good you forget that any other man even exists.

He decides here and now that he needs to make sure you remember what you have waiting at home for you. He needs to be quick, though, because he doesn't want to send you to the party all hot and bothered. He knows you only ever entertain Jackson to keep the peace, but he can't help the possessive voice in the back of his head telling him he needs to show you that your boyfriend can make you feel better than anyone ever could.

"Steven I'm serious, I can't be late." He ignores you, already sliding your tight dress over your thighs and settling it on your waist. He falls to his knees, planting kisses and soft bites across your ass. He crawls under you to now face your panty covered center. You try to push him away, but he swats your hand and takes off your underwear. Loving the sight of him on his knees for you, you decide you are going to let him continue. On one condition.

"You have to be done by the time I finish my make up. Don't want to send me to dinner all worked up, do you?" you tease. Hell no. He can't let Jackson see you like that. Maybe it would leave you tempted to flirt back, just to blow off some steam. He pulls your leg over his shoulder and shoves his face between your legs.

He wastes no time teasing you, no licking up your folds, no soft kisses to your thighs. He zeros in on your clit, sucking and lapping at it like a madman. You try to steady yourself, picking up your makeup and starting to slowly apply it, keeping your hands as still as possible to avoid making a mess. You struggle to keep your eyes open as they threaten to roll back into your head, the pleasure starting to distract you from the task at hand. You start to grind your hips into his mouth and use one hand to grip the counter. You're surprised you don't fall over, but his strong grip on your thigh and ass keeps you upright. He circles your clit, and flicks his tongue back and forth, just how he knows you like it.

"Fuck Steven, you're so good at that. So fucking good." you say in that low, breathy voice that never fails to turn him on. Spurred on by your praise, his movements become more frantic, and you squeal and start panting above him.

You feel that you're right on the edge, but you pull him away, earning a frustrated grunt from him as he can tell you’re close too. You explain you have to do your eyeliner and really don’t want to blind yourself. While you do that, he starts nipping at your thighs impatiently. He had you right there, you were so close and now he’d have to build it back up. Usually, he’d go crazy about the idea of edging you, but time is of the essence.

You finish and he’s back on you in an instant. Your breathing quickly becomes ragged and you take a moment to look yourself over in the mirror. Your makeup doesn’t look terrible, just a little rushed. All that’s left is your lipstick. You take a minute to examine your lips in your reflection and you see how swollen and full they are from how you’ve been biting them. It should make the color you chose really pop. You silently thank Steven for this by reaching down to run your fingers through his curls. He gives you an appreciative whine and starts sucking harder at your sensitive bud.

You take a few deep breaths and steady your hand as best as you can as you place the applicator onto your lips. Of course, you feel that familiar tightness in your stomach and you know you're about to cum. He hears your desperate moans, and he can tell too. He slips two fingers into you and starts rubbing against that tender spot he knows drives you crazy and you cry out as you clamp down onto his fingers. The surprise intrusion causes your hand to slip and your wrist swipes across your lips, smearing the lipstick onto the corner of your mouth and your chin. You groan in frustration as the waves of pleasure rip through you and you clench down onto his fingers.

Knowing he accomplished his goal, Steven slows his movements and pulls his fingers from your dripping entrance. He wears a proud look on his face and moves his gaze to your arousal that coats his hand. He licks it off eagerly, making sure to clean up your mess. The previous frenzied nature of his touch quickly turns tender as he drags his hands up and down your sides and along your ass and thighs. He cleans you up a bit with his tongue but decides to forgo the washcloth he usually uses. He wants to send you to the party with a reminder of how he made you feel tonight.

He stands, sliding your underwear back on. You’re still gripping the counter and trying to regain composure as he takes his place back behind you and nuzzles into your neck. He chuckles as he catches a glimpse of you in the mirror. You’re clearly a wreck, but he has to admit you did a fairly good job despite the circumstances. Then, as if some switched has flipped in his brain, he latches onto your neck, making you gasp, and you feel his teeth sink into you. After a minute or so of him sucking at your skin, you feel his tongue run across it, soothing the indents he had left. He smiles, satisfied to have effectively marked his territory, and he starts applying gentle kisses instead. He hopes you don't try to cover it up. He desperately wants Jackson to catch a glimpse. Steven grins at the thought.

"You made me smudge my makeup." you whine. Since you'll have to fix it anyway, you turn your head, pulling his lips to yours. You pull back, and admire the fresh lipstick smeared across his mouth. You're tempted to drag him into the bedroom and mark up his dick with it, but you have to go. You sigh, " But I think I can forgive you. I'll reward you for being such a good boy when I get back, ok?"

[ethereal-night-fairy]

To the Edge of Chaos

Prologue

Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)

A murder accusation and the death of a beloved father. Those where the events that led you to take refuge in this seedy tavern. Scared and left completely alone for the very first time, you try you're best to evade watchful eyes. Easier said than done when there were handsome pirates in the vicinity.

Warnings: MDNI, Crude language, talks of beheadimg and murder.

To the Edge of Chaos

Masterlist

Words: 1.1k

“Did you hear!?,” The man next to you whispered. He must be a local if he's comfortable gossiping in a tavern like this. The smell of cheap alcohol was making you nauseous but this was the only safe place you could find for the time being.

“Everyone's heard by this stage,” the bar keep whispered back. “The city guards have been preventing people from talking about it since they announced the passing of the King. I heard they're going to behead her without trial.”

“I don't believe it for a second! Our princess would never do something like that!”

“Keep your voice down! They have ears all over the city,” the bar keep warned. But the bar was rowdy despite the news of the king's passing circulating. It felt like the city was celebrating, apart from a select few that is. You didn't realise how insignificant the royal family was in this part of the city. Though granted, the ports were often run by pirates these days despite the naval guard trying to stake their claim over the area.

You wonder where everything went wrong. It wasn't long ago that you were dressing as a servant boy to explore the city scape. Even though you should have been studying, should have been performing your royal duties. It seems that your selfishness has come to bite you in the ass. Had it not been for your uncle you would be on the road to your demise right about now. You've only narrowly escaped death for the time being. No one knows how you'll fare tomorrow.

That's how you found yourself in one of the few places the city guards couldn't reach you. The loyalty of the people here lay with the outlaws, the reject, the outcasts. An ideal place to find a temporary identity or a completely new one if one wanted. The bar buzzed with joy as the people guzzled their cheap rum and brandy. It tasted nothing like the refined wines you were raised on. Not that you had the luxury of being picky anymore. But at least you could enjoy the sweetness during these trying times. Probably not a good financial decision though. But you desperately needed something to take edge of the grief you were feeling. 

“The king loved his daughter, why would she have any reason to kill him?” The drunk patron drawled on despite the looks he was getting from the other patrons. The royal family really wasn't popular here. You scan your area staying on high alert, you couldn't have anyone mistaking you for someone who was supposed to be locked up and awaiting her death. You suppose sneaking out did pay off in this instance. You were so used to acting like a boy that it wasn't hard mimicking the mannerisms of the people around you. That and the disguise was good enough to fool the drunk for now. You just needed to get your hands on a more convincing ensemble if you wanted to survive.

“Aye nae one cares that wee bastard is dead, Never done nae good for the people like us! And his daughter too! Never even seen 'er face in public! Always hiding away in 'er big castle too full of 'erself tae care about 'er people dying in the slums!” A drunk man with an odd haircut shouts. Pirates. You watch the men around him laugh as they encourage him to keep going. The whole situation made you uneasy. Your reputation was horrible amongst the poor it seems. Or anyone for that matter. You were very much aware of the hate you received because of your mothers heritage. Despite her still being foreign royalty.

“Good thing we'll finally see 'er head come off! Good riddance!” You flinch as the man continues his rant stumbling as he tries to reach the bar for more alcohol. But someone from his group grabs him by the back of the neck before he can reach where you were sitting. Damn you wouldn't want to mess with his friend.

He was built like an oak tree. Not to mention his terrifying mask. You wouldn't be surprised if they called him the grim reaper. You remind yourself to keep away from those two. It's not long before the drunk man is hauled off outside while he airs out his lungs towards the person who was holding him like a pup. You watch as his crew boo and jeer the big man as he drags out the other to sober up.

Your eyes naturally drift back to the rowdy crowd who seemed at home in the tavern. Many women excitedly draped themselves on the arms of the most handsome or the ones that looked like they had money. You couldn't blame them. They were quite handsome you'll admit, and who didn't like money? You could use some right now.

One man in particular caught your eye. His laugh was akin to the warmth of the setting sun. Your hand absently caresses the necklace around your neck. The thought of him caressing skin no man has touched made your head spin with forbidden thoughts. Ones you desperately had to push down. Your necklace hums with magic concealing your feminine features, essentially presenting you as a boy to anyone.

You continue your not so discrete exploration of the handsome man's toned body. He would have make a nice personal gaurd. It stirs something in your heart but you push it down as soon as it surfaces. Now wasn't the time!

His dark sun kissed skin glowed under the light of their lanterns while multiple women tried and failed to monopolize his attention. Though you knew for a fact he enjoyed the commotion they were making for him. You could see it on his smug face and mischievous kohl covered eyes. They looked like pools of honey from where you sat. Stop it idiot! You need to focus!

It seemed the bearded man sitting next to him was also enjoying the attention he was receiving. They exchanged cigars as they continued to enjoy their drinks while the woman fawned for their undivided attention.

You study them for a bit before making up your mind. They'd do nicely. You needed money, and they looked like they had plenty to spare. You're sure they wouldn't mind a few coins missing. Though it was your first time stealing, it couldn't be that hard could it? A little flirting here, a little touching there and you'll have a couple coins in your purse in no time. You glance at your necklace debating if it was a good option to remove the enchantment for a short time. The people were all drunk anyway and it wasn't like anyone would recognise you here. You just needed to get one of them alone somehow. But how?

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 11

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: It’s time for you to face Ghostface head on.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Pretty gnarly violence, Tara being protective and kinda batshit crazy, betrayals left and right

A/N: lol

Shit.

When you open your eyes and see nothing but a hot blinding light, you think you might've died and gone to heaven.

"God?" You whisper, blinking slowly.

It was in fact, not god, you find out once your eyes properly adjust.

You're stuck in a tiny compartment; so small you think you might suffocate. The walls are painted a shade of obsidian black that makes you feel like you're stuck in a black hole. Only one single flickering lightbulb grants you sight.

Your arms are sore; so sore, and it only intensifies when you try and pull them up from the weird position they're in.

Huh, I can't move my arms.

You tug at the rope-like fabric of material that's holding your hands together. It doesn't budge in the slightest. Panic rises like wildfire in you.

You breathe deep. Try to gather your wits and make sense of anything that is possibly going on.

"Get it together." You remind yourself.

You blink once.

Feeling a little more clear, you realize that you're strapped tight to a chair, back pressed uncomfortably close to the ridges.

Where am I?

There's no time to find the answer to that question since the wall is moving- oh it's a door-, and Ghostface appears right in front of you, smiling.

Well, you don't really know if he's smiling. But the way he's moving, all confident and cocky, makes you think you're not too far off.

It hits you all at once. Now that you're fully conscious, you can feel everything.

One inhale and your lungs feel like they're on fire. Breathing is hard.

You groan, the pain all too overwhelming for your brain to work properly. It would be embarrassing how loud you were if you cared in the least.

You can only seem to think of one thing.

"Where is she?" You ask, with all the confidence of someone in the position of interrogating Ghostface.

Tara. God, what did they do to Tara?

“Of course, your first words are about her." Ghostface spits, still using that goddamned voice modulator.

“Where is she?” You spit, trying your very best to look intimidating.

It's not very convincing when you're heaving and gasping like a fish out of water.

"Would you believe me if I said she was already dead?" Ghostface drawls, tracing their knife along your jawline, pressing just enough for you to feel it.

You scoff.

"Right...you'd kill one of your beloved 'main characters' before the finale." You say, sure you've read him to filth.

"But, this is the ending. Don't you see?" He continues to tease, unbothered by your last comment.

You huff, but you feel your heart picking up speed slightly.

What if...he was telling the truth?

A shrill scream sounds throughout the theater, and you feel your blood run cold as you recognize exactly who it is.

"Tara." You breathe, half terrified and half relieved she's still alive.

"Tara!" You yell, as loud as your lungs are willing to let you.

Tara doesn't reply. What you do get is a smack to the head and an elbow to the jaw.

"Be quiet." Ghostface hisses, and you can almost swear he sounds sort of scared.

"Be quiet or I'm going to get my ass whooped." He mumbles, and you pull back as far as you can, eyebrows raised.

You bite back the need to tell him you definitely don't care if he gets in trouble or not, not wanting to get slapped in the face a billion more times.

"Come on." He grumbles, gripping the back of the chair and lifting it up swiftly.

The feeling of your feet dangling off the chair reminds you of one of your favorite memories.

"Mint ice cream sucks," Tara tells you definitively.

You squint your eyebrows at her and bring up a hand to your heart like she's just stabbed you.

She's sitting with her ice cream in hand, a good distance away from you. You guys peer down at all the university students walking around, now the size of ants; trying to point out people you guys recognize.

It was your own little secret spot. Tara could never really go study outside uni, since her sister was always up her ass about traveling unknown spaces. You never asked her why, pure sister protectiveness, you guessed.

A couple of weeks into knowing Tara, she'd brought you up to this mini garden haven of hers, all shy and smiley.

She's sitting now and she's looking so pretty with her big brown eyes and freckles out for display. They shine bright today, sunshine illuminating her face and making everything just pop the slightest bit more.

You get a wicked idea, and before you can stop yourself, scoot yourself closer and place your arm around her.

Tara cocks an eyebrow at you, but before she can speak a word, you start tickling her sides.

"Stop!" Tara squeals. Her face turning a bright pink comically fast.

You're careful not to tickle her too hard, or else you think she might just slide off the ledge and fall right here.

You're close now, closer than you should be. Tension swims in the air. You lean down to whisper into her ear.

"That's what you get for saying mint sucks." You huff, smirking a little as she shudders from the feeling of your breath fanning her ear.

When you pull back and look into her eyes, you're surprised to see them wide and dilated. She has a weird expression her face, like she's fighting something in herself.

You lean in slowly, stuck in a trace with the way she's looking at you.

She grips your shirt and pulls you in further, your noses brushing. And then suddenly, like she's just snapped out of her daze, she sits up abruptly.

She laughs nervously, letting go of your shirt.

"I think Sam's calling me. I'll see you tomorrow. Same time?" She's saying, but she's not even giving you a second to answer before she's sprinting away.

Despite the sort of failed kiss, you chuckle a little. You feel the blush creep up to the tips of your ears.

The day your crush on Tara Carpenter officially started.

It's a bad time to start daydreaming, but you figure if you're going to die right now, it wouldn't be so bad to think of the love of your life while you go.

The sound of Tara's voice brings you back to life.

"YN!" She gasps, from somewhere behind you. You're still getting dragged, hair stuck to your forehead, eyes blurred.

You try your best to blink everything back to focus.

She's standing on the platform slightly below you, beside Sam, looking relieved. There's a brick in her hand.

You try and say her name but all that comes out is a painful groan. Everything feels heavy. Your shirt is painted red where your stomach wound is, and you figure you must've ripped the stitches.

There's another Ghostface beside you, the two of them bracketing you on either side.

Not that you would have the energy to up and escape anyway.

"Tara..." Sam warns, eyeing her sister like she knows what she's about to do.

Tara rushes forward, ignoring Sam's protest, trying to get to you. To hold you in her arms, to press her hands against your wound, to kiss it better; to do anything.

The Ghostface to your right swings their knife as soon as she comes into the vicinity, and slices the skin above Tara's collarbone easily. She gasps from the jab. Red liquid seeps out immediately.

You feel the Ghostface to your left tense, a mixture of a gasp and a yell stuck together.

"Anika wait-!" The Ghostface is saying, the name slipping out as easy as second nature.

Everybody stills.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The other Ghostface whirls around, shoulders tight.

Sam tugs Tara back quietly, looking between the two Ghostfaces. Your head is swimming.

"What did you say?" Ghostface- supposedly Anika, says.

"What the fuck." You manage to spit out, but it goes unheard, everyone being laser-focused on the scene unfolding right in front of them.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that. It's just, I thought you were going to kill Tara. I couldn't let you do that." The other Ghostface reasons, albeit unconvincingly. He stumbles over his words, in a tone that's all too familiar to you.

"Ethan?" You hesitate, tears brimming in your eyes.

The Ghostface that's hovering above you drops down to your ear level, whispering softly.

"Well, aren't you just a smart little thing?" And promptly slides off that wretched Ghostface mask, and even though you knew, you have to gasp at who you see.

Anika.

Sweet sweet Anika.

"Just take it off. It's not like they don't already know." Anika tells Ethan, an order more than anything.

You tilt your head just enough to see Ethan take off his mask, grinning nervously.

"What the fuck?" You hear Tara say, but it sounds so far away.

"But, but how-" Sam starts, pointing at Ethan, her face as pale as a ghost.

He looks good, healthy. More alive than you've ever seen him. There's a glint in his eye you've never seen before.

"I'm alive. Surprise!" He grins, flashing the four of you a pearly white smile.

I must be dreaming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. He's still standing there when you open them again. Shit.

"But I watched you die, I felt the blood. You-you died in my arms. I saw the ambulance pick you up." You splutter, voice cracking unevenly.

"You know...some fake blood and a couple of acting classes can do wonders. You guys really are not good at picking up on hints." Anika sing songs, waving her dagger in the air.

"Seriously...we even had to send you a note." She continues, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so hell-bent on destroying us?" Sam asks, fire in her eyes. She looks scary. Messing with Sam was one thing, but messing with her sister? You have a feeling they'll be dead in minutes.

Anika sighs dramatically, putting a hand up to her chin and feigning thought.

"Gosh. Where do I even start? Let's set the scene: it's 1996. There's been two mysterious murders in the small town of Woodsboro, leaving everyone in fright." She recounts, words slipping out of her mouth with ease like she's rehearsed them a million times.

Sam rolls her eyes, fed up with this godforsaken story that seems to follow her anywhere.

"Akio Kayoko however, lives happily, because finally his two bullies Billy and Stu aren't on his ass anymore. They have more important things to worry about."

Sam cuts in before Anika goes any further.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This is all because what, your dad couldn't handle a couple wedgies? Are you a little daddy's girl?" She says, fed up.

Anika shoots her an icy glare, but continues.

"You don't even know what you're talking about." Anika tells her, voice lowering to soft and almost sorrowful.

"Poor dad, he just had to go to that party. Do you know what happens to a person when they go through something traumatic? It changes them. He came out the only bystander that survived, but not without a scarred face and a scarred soul to show for it." She murmurs. She turns suddenly, a new pep in her mannerisms.

"Your father," she points at Sam accusingly, "and your father," she points her knife at you, "fucked my dad up royally. He got diagnosed with severe depression and bipolar disorder from it. And for what?" She seethes.

"Your guys' fathers are just racist assholes. You deserve everything that's coming to you, don't you even doubt it for a second!" She sneers, with so much venom and power that you can't help but agree.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, try to explain that you aren't your dad, but Anika beats you to it.

"Did you know he left me? I still remember it like it was yesterday. I was 6." She tells you, voice getting softer. Your heart tugs for her.

She straightens up, as if just realizing where she was, and her icy facade once again builds up.

"Anywho, motive enough for you Sam?" She tilts her head up, eyes bright.

Sam stands scarily still, but you can see the concern swimming in her eyes.

Ethan's standing wide-eyed like this is all new information to him.

"It really wasn't that hard getting you two to meet. All I had to do was invite Tara to that party and just give YN a little bump so you two would talk." Anika continues, and you furrow your eyebrows. Party? You met Tara at a party?

Your eyes dart to Tara and she's looking at you a little solemnly, and suddenly it hits you like a truck. Memories that have never been unlocked before replay in your mind now. The angel from that party.

That was Tara.

"After that, everything just fell into place. You guys are one pathetic predictable group of people." Ethan pipes up.

"The friendship, the night you got stabbed, it was all planned. I mean, why do you think I took you back to the apartment? For Anika to "stitch you up?" He asks excitedly, looking at Anika for approval to speak further. She gives him an annoyed nod.

"And guess what the best part is," He giggled midway, but gains his composure again. "Every time she came to fix you up, she actually poisoned the wound. Never too much that you would notice- but enough to guarantee your death today. It's infected." He cheers, like he hasn't just told you you're going to die.

"Jesus, you never told me how bad it was," Tara says, making your eyes dart back to hers, trying to catch her gaze to inadvertently say your sorry, but she doesn't meet your eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry." You sigh.

Ethan makes a noise of disgust. He looks at you with scrunched eyebrows, a little crinkle of his nose betraying his chill facade. His gaze shifts to Tara, and you can't help but notice his voice move just a pitch higher.

"Poor Tara. Caught in this sick twisted web between your sister and your girlfriend. You didn't even do anything wrong right, baby? Don't worry...nothing's going to happen to you. I've made sure of that." He tells her, and it hits you all at once.

"Baby? What are you talking about? " Tara asks, cocking her head to the side.

"I love you, Tara. I did all of this just for you. When the both of them are dead, you and I can get together. Finally." He says, between deep breaths.

You don't know how you never saw it before. Memories of the prior weeks flash in front of your eyes.

His heart eyes for your girlfriend every time the group would have a movie night and you two would cuddle, the weird lingering around the both of you whenever you'd go out.

You just figured he really liked your company.

"You're out of your mind you sick fuck. Tara would never date you, even if you were the last person on earth." Is what Sam says, and despite the consequences of what's sure to come, your heart sings.

Last person on earth.

Ethan stutters, like he never thought of the possibility that she would reject him. You see tears forming immediately, frown apparent. He's trying to keep it together- you can tell.

He leans back slightly, dejected. His eyes cloud with something you can only describe as hatred, and for a scary moment, you think he seriously might jump at Tara.

However, he doesn't get the time to act on his thoughts, because in less than a blink of an eye Anika's moving over and stabbing him in the neck.

"Agh!" He grunts. A trickle of blood runs down the side of his mouth, then it bursts. So, so much thick crimson liquid gurgles out.

Anika stands behind him, sliding her knife out his back, wiping the blood clean.

"Gosh, what a bore he was, right? True love this true love that. I couldn't listen to that shit any longer." She gags, leaning over to stick her tongue out at Ethan's lifeless face. She stabs him again in the jaw for good measure.

She looks back at the three of you, who are clearly aghast.

"Gotta make sure he's dead right?" She smiles, and it finally gets through to you that she's lost it. Whoever you thought you knew, that person never existed.

No one answers her as she stands up.

You turn stoney-faced as you look up at her. "So what's the plan Anika? How are you gonna get away with this?"

She turns around, rolling her eyes. Before you know it, she's advancing towards you, knife raised. She jabs lightly at your wound. Teases her knife against your skin. You really wish people would stop picking that specific part to hurt you.

"Do we really need to go over this again? Kill you guys blah blah blah, find Mindy and kill her, say that you and Sam went crazy like their fathers. Really, it's not hard to understand." Anika continues, shuffling her feet as she speaks like she's bored.

Time is ticking before she snaps and just decides to kill you, you know it. Not to mention the fact that you were actively dying.

"What do you really want from us? Just name your price now, and we'll- we'll get it. Just let her go." Tara splutters, almost begging.

Anika stomps her feet with the energy of a three year olds tantrum, "I want revenge! Have I not made that clear enough?" she basically yells.

Sam moves forward slowly, like a wildlife expert moving towards a wild beast.

"Look I'm sure we can come to an agreement about something-" She's saying, but Anika rolls her eyes once again and advances lazily towards you.

Nothing happens in slo-mo like the movies, you can barely register her face before she's plunging the dagger deep into the other side of your lower stomach. You can feel it pierce it's way through your whole body.

You hear a scream but it sounds a million miles away. You gag, moving your head to the side to try and puke, but nothing comes out. You try to groan in frustration but it makes your skin sting everywhere that you stop. You just stop for a moment.

Tara's fully sobbing now, you think. You can't really tell.

All hell breaks loose. Sam breaks out into a sprint at Anika, effectively knocking her down till both of them are tumbling on the floor.

You see flashes of black and gray and blood spurting from someone.

"Stay with me." You hear someone say, and try with everything in you to blink back everything into focus. It's Tara.

Her mascara is everywhere. Black stripes of tears and makeup streak down her pretty face, and you feel the urge even now to bring your hand up and wipe the tears away.

You try and tell her to stop crying but the words die in your mouth. What feels like fire engulfs your lungs.

"Stay with me. I'll be right back." She whispers, pressing a kiss to your chapped lips.

You search your mind desperately for a way out of this mess, a solution, but everything goes blank. Your ears ring, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pain.

With everything you have in you, you squeeze Tara's hand one last time, and tell her to take the knife currently lodged in you out.

Tara's eyes darken, the most cloudy you've ever seen them.

"No, no. I couldn't do that." She says, another round of tears falling down her cheeks. She shakes her head adamantly, but you shush her.

"Please. For me." You manage to get out, then with the utmost acceptance, you let yourself go.

Tara doesn't remember much of what happened after that. She remembers sobbing, she remembers someone screaming, but she can't be too sure if it's her or someone else. She remembers the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip on her hand, and she remembers seeing red.

With no where else to channel her emotions, and with your words engraved in her mind, she turns on Anika.

She hurries over to where she's still wrestling with Sam, expression tight, and grabs the first thing she can find in this shithole of a theater.

Your father's wooden box.

She remembers faintly telling Sam to fuck off, and smashing the box over Anika's head. Then picking it up and doing the same thing again. And again, and again. She remembers taking the heel of her shoes and smashing it to Anika's nose, breaking it in one clean hit.

She remembers going back to you, your white as paper skin, and yanking the knife out of you.

And the final thing she remembers is screaming at Anika while she buries the knife in and out of the girl’s body, everywhere, again and again.

[itsclydebitches]

I've been thinking about Astarion's lack of reflection combined with the, "Lol how can this idiot think he's hiding his vampire status his bite marks are RIGHT THERE" reaction from the fandom. Crazy thought but what if Astarion just... doesn't know? It's not like he can see the marks for himself. Would anyone ever mention that to him? Does every vampire scar so deeply? (I personally didn't catch any on his siblings.) Can he feel them? I have scars that look very raised but don't feel significantly different from the surrounding skin. Or at least, I may not have realized what I was feeling was a scar without having seen it first.

Really, I think it's difficult for those of us with sight to conceptualize just how much we take our appearance for granted—how often we see it throughout the day and how much subconscious info we glean from it. Does Astarion know how high a collar needs to be to hide potential scars? How wide he can open his mouth before his fangs show? That the white of his hair looks significantly different from someone who has aged? Sure, he'll pick up on some things from being around his siblings (oh look, everyone has glowy eyes. I must have those too) but even among the spawn there's a lot of diversity. It's not like seeing them truly gives Astarion a sense of what he looks like. Now, toss in the fact that he was enslaved within a community that likely wasn't offering up a lot of insight purely out of the goodness of their hearts (here, let me sketch you) and the fact that Astarion's job was seduction (obviously I still look 'normal' enough that people will trust/sleep with me) and I don't think it's outside the realm of possibility that he doesn't quite Get™ how vamapire-y he looks.

[pillow-anime-talk]

life with chrollo.

request ; @roseamie01: can i have some chrollo x reader? it’s up to you to write about anything and i am fine with nsfw stuff so i leave it to your imagination!

# tags: headcanon; current relationship; simple day with chrollo from morning to night; romance; a bit of fluff and soft!chrollo; sfw & nsfw

warnings: mention of sexual activities, nasty sex with chrollo, spanking, hair pulling, spitting, slutty names, deep throat, blood and bruises mention

includes: gender neutral reader ft. chrollo lucilfer {hxh}

author’s note: sorry for waiting so long! thank you and have nice day/night :)!

→ sfw part ←

↘ Chrollo is husband material for me. He’s a really calm man who cares about the person closest to him if he truly loves them, and not just manipulates them and forces them to do bad things.

↘ Always puts his partner at first place and gets angry when someone tries to “steal” you or is too pushy with you.

↘ I’m also sure he likes to show off your relationship and always stays close to you in important meetings; he always has his hand on your shoulder or hip and often gives you kisses on the lips or hands. He also likes to tease all his male friends who are still single.

↘ He’s a gentleman. He loves all those smooth situations, like letting you through the door or paying for a fancy dinner. I also think that Chrollo likes to pamper you materially and never spares his money for a new gift for you: new shoes, a pretty cotton sweater, jewelry with beautiful gemstones, and is even willing to buy you a small pet if he sees that you will be a good future owner and take care of the animal appropriately.

↘ Chrollo is understanding and patient, though often overprotective and gets angry when you don’t listen to him or do stupid/dangerous things like going on missions with him or playing with Pakunoda’s weapons. However, he never raises his voice at you because your smile is apology enough for him. He’ll just take that knife or gun from you and give you a popsicle or your favorite bag of candy in return.

↘ He’s really cute and the rest of the Troupe are surprised by his behavior because Chrollo without you and with you are two completely different people.

→ nsfw part ←

↘ In bed, however, Chrollo is... different.

↘ Just as he seems loving and affectionate with you around people, in your bedroom he’s not afraid to use more insulting words towards you. He loves to be rude, demanding and fast, sometimes too fast that orgasms go through your body one by one and you choke or cry with pleasure.

↘ During sex, Chrollo loves to bite you, pull your hair, spit on your face red from exertion, or slap your butt with such force that you feel pain for the next two or three days. 

↘ Sometimes he is so crazy and strong that the pressure of his hand causes bruises, even scratches and light blood stains on the light-colored sheets. He loves to make you agonize and bliss at the same time.

↘ Your boyfriend is a monster who always sets the pace, control and position (of course he sometimes grants your requests, but mostly he decides about your sexual activity). He loves to fuck you from behind and standing up against the wall, he also loves sex sitting down and one where he can bind your body with a tie, a piece of string or even his own T-shirt.

↘ He’s not a fan of sex toys and you both know that his tongue or fingers alone are enough to satisfy your needs. He also loves oral sex, or rather a strong deep throat. When he sees your face turn purple and more saliva drips from your mouth than usual, he’s so satisfied.

↘ A loving relationship with dirty sex is the perfect description of your relationship.

[buriedpair]

I'm Inlove with your ocs — How would the yandere react to a dense darling with no knowledge of gambling or any games who goes to the casino every now and then, who still manage to win without cheating? Like the others are pissed off by them and yet here they are asking what the rules are because they're forgetful -

IM BLUSHING SO MUCH RN IM SO GLAD U LIKE THEM ALSO THANKS FOR BEING SO NICE AND REBLOGGING MY STUFF AND FOR BEING MY FIRST MUTUAL!!!!!!

Ahem. Yes. The prompt. I only did Amias and Edge for this one, since Jackpot, DD, and Gambit aren't really in on the gambling side of things and it probably wouldn't change much.

Yandere!OCs x GN Reader

The casino has plenty of nice reviews. It's clean, and the drinks are good. As far as you're concerned, it's just like any other bar you've ever been to. When your friend dragged you along to play a game, you didn't think twice.

Um... but you've only ever played Go-Fish before...

Amias

Upon first meeting you, Amias is really, REALLY frustrated. Somehow, he's losing money to you. It barely puts a dent in his funds, but wow. You ask what a Royal Flush is EVERY time, and every time you end up having one. There's no way it's Edge cheating, because even when he does, Amias ALWAYS wins.

You have the most insane, frustrating, INFURIATING beginners luck he has ever seen. It's driving him literally crazy. He's in his room tearing up playing cards and hanging up pictures of you and trying to figure out what you're trying to achieve. He wants to shake you so hard your brain falls out and you die. He's chewing his nails off and tearing his hair out.

WHAT IS YOUR SECRET?

Sometime after all that. when he's gathering pictures of you, he realizes that... Well, there's absolutely no reason he needs those. Why would he need those? He should get rid of them.

But the second he reaches for one of them to tear off his wall, he has a full-on panic attack and ends up sobbing on the floor.

He almost hurt you! Granted, it was just a picture of you, but it's YOU! You, who he has spent months watching and taking care of and--

Shit. Damnit. God, fuck. He's in love with you.

Edge

Edge has never, in his entire career, had to explain to someone what "all in" means THIS many times.

IT MEANS YOU PUT ALL OF YOUR CHIPS IN.

Ahem, but he calmly reexplains with a smile. He deals your cards, and...

You won. Again.

You look gleeful, and later when he's laying alone in his dark bedroom, he can't get that look of joy out of his head. Not that he'd ever admit that.

He decides he's going to teach you the terms and the rules and everything you need to know.

And so the private tutoring begins. It's frustrating, but he manages to teach you all the things you need to know... While simultaneously memorizing all your quirks and habits. He knows you like the back of his hand now, and he wants more. He wants to take that information and use it to absolutely shatter you.

It's like a game. Should be fun, no?

BONUS!!!!

Double Down

DD could not care less how much you know about gambling. He's going to bite you. You will have rabies. And die.

[n33dlew0rk]

Only Love

rated G | 1052 words | cw: very much anachronistic lol, also changed lyrics bc gender is silly | tags: post-canon, everybody lives, pre-steddie, no beta we die like sleep-deprived dysfunctional adults 

for @steddie-week prompt 'trade' (day 4)

A few months after his slow recovery allowed him to start playing again, Eddie found himself improvising as a guitar teacher for one Steve Harrington: PTSD buddy, appointed saviour, babysitter extraordinaire, former King, currently Eddie’s biggest crush to date.

It started suddenly mid-autumn, after the third movie night in a row the two of them shared at the Munson’s new trailer and umpteenth time he found Steve’s fingers tracing the frets of his acoustic guitar.

“She doesn’t bite, y’know?” Eddie said with half a smile. 

The reverence with which Steve usually stared both at the instrument or at Eddie himself when he was practising, was one he could only translate as belonging to someone who’s been denied the exploration of whatever hobby was not deemed sufficiently dignified by an uptight parent.

That, or Steve was acting like a teenage girl crushing on a rockstar and Eddie really didn’t think this was the case.

Steve blushed, like a kid caught in the act. 

Eddie chuckled, put a hand on the other man’s shoulder and gently squeezed it. If the contact lasted one little second too much to be completely platonic, that’s none of your business.

“Come on then, take her down”, he smiled. Steve’s eyes widened like the proposition was the most absurd thing ever to leave Eddie’s mouth.

When Eddie’s eyebrows flew to the ceiling trying to emphasize his invitation, Steve finally mustered the courage to grab the guitar’s body, slowly lifting it up from its support on the wall.

He was a surprisingly fast learner. His big and already calloused hands were excellent for the more complicated chords. He had a good ear and wasn’t particularly fond of music theory, something Eddie’s chaotic study path could very well relate to.

Weeks passed and Steve slowly started taking the guitar home with him. At first only when Eddie didn't have time for a lesson or when Corroded Coffin was rehearsing. But gradually the instrument was practically fused to Steve’s shoulder wherever he went, like a little bird leaving the nest to find its way in life.

Sometimes Eddie put his fingers on top of Steve’s to suggest a better position or correct a chord and Steve would look frustrated. Or flustered, maybe? Maybe both. Eddie kept reassuring him every time, guiding the other’s hands gently, telling him he was doing an amazing job.

By the spring of ‘87, Steve was able to play about ten covers with ease and even a few duets with Eddie when he felt bold (which, granted, wasn’t that often).

After a particularly hot summer afternoon spent poolside at Steve’s, Eddie was strumming on his unofficially ex-acoustic guitar and watching the sun set slowly. 

“I should probably buy one of my own”, Steve said, mortified, walking towards him with two cold beers in hand.

“Nah”, smiled Eddie. “I miss her, but I can feel she chose you”, he chuckled. “Plus, I’m happy you’re keeping her, makes me feel like I did something good honestly”.

Steve gave him a tentative smile, his gaze shifting from the guitar, to Eddie’s eyes, then roaming on his face, to his hand on the neck of the instrument and, finally, to the floor.

“You did.” He sounded sincere, grateful. After a beat, he straightened up, but he was still not looking at the metalhead. “What if I trade you something for her?” Steve managed to say in a small voice. 

Eddie cocked his head, now curious. “Well now, Stevie, she’s royalty this one, you know?”. His hand slowly caressed the warm wood of the guitar affectionately. Then he lifted his gaze to search Steve’s. “I’ll need something valuable in exchange”, he smirked.

Steve looked at him, blushed suddenly and just nodded, his expression shifting to one of absolute focus. He extended one arm, gesturing Eddie to pass him the guitar and sat down beside him, leaving the beer bottles aside, his legs reaching the clear water of the pool below. 

A thousand thoughts crossed Eddie’s mind. It wouldn’t have been the first time Steve played him something, but he looked nervous. So Eddie bit his tongue, kept the teasing for himself and smiled encouraging at the other man.

The backyard was quiet around them as Steve murmured something under his breath and positioned his hands on the guitar. He took two deep breaths and then he started playing.

He plucked the strings intently, creating a pretty upbeat melody.

Eddie felt pride rushing through him. Steve was good. He learnt a lot in the past year, practised in every free moment he got and this was the product of his hard work.

It wasn’t, however until Steve started singing that Eddie actually listened.

Steve’s voice was soft, shy, a bit unsure. Eddie didn’t know the song, so he figured it must be something either original or too hit-pop for him to recognise. 

Darling, you're with me, always around me Only love, my only love Darling, I feel you under my body Only love, my only love

Something in the way Steve immersed himself in the music, told Eddie that this was something really important for him, personal.

Give me shelter, or show me heart Come on, love, come on, love Watch me fall apart, watch me fall apart…

A love ballad then, uh? Eddie felt a pang in his stomach but ignored it. It’s not like he could ever be on the receiving end of words like these. 

Steve gained confidence by playing and lifted his gaze to meet Eddie’s, now singing directly to him.

And I'll be yours to keep A wind in the shadows, whale song in the deep A wind in the shadows, whale song in the deep

The piece was simple and went on a few more times between gentle notes and the lyrics. Steve adjusted himself while transitioning to the closing bridge of the song and for a moment there, lost between Steve’s words and the honey of his eyes, Eddie forgot how to breathe.

Only love, love, love Only love, love, love Only love, love, love Boy, show me heart

Come on love, love, love Come on love, love, love Come on love, love, love Watch me fall apart

Come on love, love, love Come on love, love, love Come on love, love, love Boy, show me heart

[vampirzina]

Hi! Can you do the pet headcannon thing with the moonknight system with a hedgehog, rabbit, or fish? Because I have all three! ♥️

warning(s): gn pronouns, spikes, fluff, sfw, established relationship, mdni

notes: an old request. it will be answered now .. 🤍

masterlist | sharing is caring series

Someone like Marc Spector wouldn’t have much of a reaction, at first.

— A rabbit and fish, fine. As long as they aren’t too clingy, he can deal with it.

— He may pay more attention to the kinder and more unassuming of your trio, the rabbit, but it’s not much more attention than he gives you. It’s more of fleeting affectionate moments between them.

— But when your hedgehog becomes rather picky and seems totally averse to his touch, he leaves them alone and doesn’t try. However, if they bite, he’d complain to you about it.

x

“I can’t not tell them to bite. It’s probably because you keep ignoring them,” you stated rather annoyedly. “Why don’t you try and be nice?”

x

— Helping him befriend your hedgehog was actually… Endearing, in a way. But he still doesn’t go looking for them on his own (he likes your rabbit more, and although he doesn’t say so, it’s obvious).

— After a long day, if you so happen not to be there or away, he finds comfort in your rabbit the most.

Steven Grant is more attentive than his peers, and he gets along fast with your pets.

— Obviously, he’s more into your fish. If they’re not an aggressive breed, he thinks they could make a good friend for Gus and offers to move them in with each other. Your fish is never not spoiled, having just as many nice things as Gus.

— Your fish is the first thing he checks on when you both come home, and the last thing he checks on when he leaves.

— He’s okay with your rabbit, and if you looked hard enough, there’s a resemblance in them. Still, he lets them relax on his lap as he’s looking over something some nights.

— As for your hedgehog, he’s nice to them, but their adamance on avoiding him when he’s next to you is a little saddening. He retracts his hand at the slightest flare of spikes.

— Unlike Marc, he doesn’t need you to tell him to make an effort to befriend them. He apologizes to your “Gus,” who is used to his attention, to focus on making the hedgehog comfortable enough.

— Treats them like a baby, honestly. You’d come home one day to a balled up hedgehog napping on him

x

“Home late, aren’t you,” he didn’t need to look up from his flip phone as he mashes at the buttons, arms caging the resting ball of spikes on his lap. “How was work?”

x

— He’d be lying if he said he loved them all equally, but his bond with your rabbit and hedgehog have tripled.

Jake Lockley wouldn’t pursue it, at first.

— He would eye them as the ones with feet would patter around, and he’s become warier of where he steps, especially because of the hedgehog.

— He’d be standing in the kitchen when they nipped at his ankle, and when he’d curse at the pinch, he wouldn’t become upset with them per se, but he’d frustratedly keep his ankles off the floor.

— He’d maintain a sort of roommate-like relationship with them, for the most part. The way he’d bond with them, over time, would actually be because he’d take the hedgehogs shedded spike and poke you with it.

x

A swift hand comes to slap your partner at the sudden sharp poke. Jake laughs when you give him a scowl.

“Throw that away. Matter of fact,” you grumbled, but you sat up anyway to snatch it from him. “Give it to me.”

x

— He’d come to like your hedgehog the most out of all your pets. Your rabbit was a rabbit, fine, and your fish swam and did things; but none of them had the potential to tease and pester you like your hedgehog.

— He calls them by a different name than what you named them, and you reckon if you didn’t keep an eye on him, he’d have your hedgehog for himself.

— It’s definitely become one of his favorite animals.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

[pruneunfair]

Rating all of Rashtas sins *very long*

I saw the Matty bites livestream of this with a tier list and I wanted to do my own spin on it. I'll be rating like this

(Really?) 1-10 (whats wrong with you!?) Also fair warning, I might be missing a few sins too.

Smirking at Naviers divorce trial: 0.5/10 okay? I guess that's something but she's not doing anything but revealing to the audience she's not an angel.

Becoming Sovieshus mistress in the first place: 0/10, when you are a slave with no other hope for a good life, you take that golden ticket dammit, and don't even try to say you wouldn't do the same thing. ITS THE EMPEROR!

Calling out to Navier: 0/10, again how is that a bad thing other then being a tad weird? 😭 "she needs to learn her place! How dare she call our queen by her name!" Hope yall know Navier would likely just smile at you and move on with her life, you aren't gonna get picked by the imperial family just for cussing out someone the empress dislikes

tearing Naviers dress: 1/10, it was an accident on Rashtas part and to say that she tore it on purpose cause she knew it would get Laura in trouble later is just reaching, who do yall think she is? Hannibal? Cause that's not someone who fought in the punic wars, that's an uneducated girl with age regression. Either Rashta is stronger then we think or Navier really needs to get a better tailor if that dress tore with a single tug.

Smirking when Laura got imprisoned: 1/10 still weird sure but Laura was being a bitch, and Rashta was just happy for once someone couldn't treat her like dirt. If you still can't see how that's not so bad, try to imagine watching your sibling get in trouble for hitting you or your bully getting sent to the principals office, yes they're not comparable to a woman being imprisoned but it was around that same feeling.

Saying that Navier takes expensive gifts for granted: 0/10, Rashta was just speaking facts and I'll stand by that. You could say she's just saying that to put Navier down but either way, she's right! Of course a former slave who had nothing is gonna think that way about the nobility.

Calling Navier her sister: 3/10, yeah that's pretty damn weird, I have no clue where Rashta heard that from so I'm gonna guess that Sovieshu mislead her or something, It's very understandable as to why Navier would be uncomfortable but again, Rashta didn't do that on purpose, she's just misunderstood since it was common for nobles to have mistresses.

Sitting in Naviers chair and later crying to Sovieshu about it: 0/10, first of all, Rashta was mislead into thinking it was fine because a maid or noblelady told her "nah it's cool, the empress doesn't come here at this time of the day." Only for Navier to show up and deliver a sick ass burn to Rashta. 2nd of all we don't see much of what Rashta told Sovieshu (it was probably exaggerated ngl) but that doesn't make it her fault when he yells at Navier and brings Rashta her own chair. Like.. I doubt she demanded he go scream at Navier.

Wanting to join Navier and Heinrey: 1/10, a little intrusive sure but I'm sure she just wanted the chance to get to know more people, not terrible just Rashtas desire to be the biggest extrovert known to man.

Taking Sovieshus attention at the new years ball: 0/10 once again, how is that her fault when its Sovieshu who made the decision to abandon Navier!? 🤦‍♀️ he's the Emperor and a grown ass man. If he wants to ruin his marriage that's on him, not Rashta. Yes, she does cry to him when Heinrey rejected her but at the same time, who else would want to talk to the concubine who's the bane of existence for almost everyone?

wearing blue silks that were rejected and "stealing" viscountless Verdi: 0/10, I'm pretty sure Sovieshu just gave Rashta those silks and ngl, she looks amazing.

and abour the whole Viscountess Verdi thing, apparently she was Naviers lady in waiting who quit and flocked to Rashta, again, it's not Rashtas fault Verdi decided to switch teams! She even tells Verdi she can go back to Navier if she wants.

Copying Naviers mannerisms- 3.5/10, alright finally something that's more than a 3, this is pretty weird but not what I would call evil, just uncomfortable and even annoying. But in Rashtas defense, everyone tells her that Navier is the epitome of perfection that all women strive to be more like. She goes about it wrong but it is for the intention of improving herself for the royal court.

Sending her friend to pretend to be Heinreys pen pal and later doing it herself: 7/10, yeah that's pretty bad and straight up mean girl behavior but like.. why? What does Rashta get from this? She has Sovieshu so money and protection is not a worry, it was literally here to move the plot along and make the idea of a slave as the villain less uncomfortable.

begging and crying to be allowed to join the special banquet and then lying that she never wanted to go at all: 4/10, that's overstepping a little bit, it'd also be a big danger for Rashta since she'd be surrounded by nobles who would mostly likely despise her for her lack of etiquette and the fact that she's a mere concubine, although it is kind of trashy to change the story, that's a move any of us would pull to save us the embarrassment.

Fainting at the banquet after seeing Lotteshu, causing Sovieshu to take it out on Navier: 0/10, another case of "blame Rashta for Sovieshu being a shitty husband!"

Working with Lotteshu: 2/10 as dumb of a decision as it becomes. Rashta is being blackmailed by her former slave owner and he's keeping her son who she thought was dead, I'm pretty sure her mind was not in the right place at that time since she was just out of a panic attack and dealing with nasty rumors.

Wanting to go to the villa with Sovieshu for Naviers birthday: 4.5/10, that's a weird thing to want to do for the woman who by now dislikes you a lot but she doesn't even go so whatever, although calling Sovieshu "her man" was out of pocket.

"All his majesty will be thinking about while he's ill is me..": 2/10, damn Rashta, that's a pretty underhanded remark but again, it's just an underhanded remark with no one but Duke Ergi around anyway. And from what she's seen, Sovieshu doesn't care about Navier at all so it makes a little sense she'd think that.

Asking Navier for her allowance early: 0.5/10, that money is going to be used for Lotteshu so she can keep him mouth shut so the desperate need for that cash now is reasonable, (how tf is this even considered a sin in the commenter's eyes?)

Implying that Nian has multiple lovers: 4/10, I mean... does she not? But in all seriousness, this was likely an accidental micro aggression since Rashta was just told that it's normal for nobles to have multiple partners.

Following Navier around: 5/10, that's just encroaching on stalker territory now so I can't really blame Navier for telling her to cut it out along with the very truthful "he doesn't like me, so why would he like you if you acted like me?" I can kind of get why Rashta decided to follow her since she knows Navier wouldn't want to teach her, which is considerate I guess in her weird little way.

Copying Naviers dress and claiming it was the former who copied: 8/10. Straight up classic mean girl right there. This scene still confuses me to some level but whatever, it's still a nasty move on Rashtas part.

Resurfacing rumors about Nians infidelity: 7.5/10, while she does have her reason by wanting to divert the rumors from herself that's still fucked up to intentionally fan the flames of an already messy marriage like that, HOWEVER! It is still the Dukes fault he divorced Nian without rechecking the facts. Rashta was at fault for resurfacing rumors yes but the Duke is old enough to be able to conduct actual research instead of listening to a stranger he met at a party. Plus, Nian is basically this worlds Leonardo DiCaprio (she gets with a man young enough to be her son and she's in her 40s+ she welcomes another man into her haram afterwords) not using this as justification for Rashta but the possibility of Nian cheating is not low.

Getting Landre put on deathrow: 0/10, (another "sin" that was the fault of someone else) so after she spread the rumors, one of Nians little lap dogs stabs her with a knife, putting her and her unborn child at risk, and while Landre didn't know yet that Rashta was pregnant, he still stabbed a woman for another woman!! Sorry Landre but you don't get be shocked when the Emperor is pissed that you would try to murder his concubine to avenge your celebrity crushes honor.

not making an effort to see Ian: 3/10, dear God this one is really complicated.. alright, Rashta had Ian with Alan when she was a slave. She was then told the baby died after childbirth and handed her a dead baby so the child wouldn't have to be raised by a slave.. so when she's told that he's alive, she rejects the idea of visiting him. There are a lot of factors to this and why I think it was probably the best decision to make. First of all, she had no chance to bond with her son already making it uncomfortable for her, second of all, if she were too visit him it would the both of them in danger (which could easily be solved if Sovieshu just communicated and told Rashta he knew about Ian) third of all, she does feel really guilty for making such a decision because she starts crying while apologizing and later takes some of his hair from Alan when the coast is clear. To say she never loved her son is wrong and it's clear she still has love for Ian.

Asking Navier to bless her unborn child: 3.5/10, really weird but Navier did get Rashta a sword for the babyshower (a sword that was a backhanded compliment by the way but Rashta didn't know) so I guess Rashta assumed Navier was on good terms now. When Navier refuses, it's Sovieshu who makes her bless the child so once again.. not Rashtas doing, it was Sovieshu.

Crying when she realizes her baby will be illegitimate: 6/10, Rashta honey I love you but come on now. I'm sure by now you have to know how monarchies like this typically work.

Confronting Navier about the sword gift: 1/10, can't blame Rashta for being upset that Navier humiliated her at her own babyshower, she had a right to confront her, what she does next though...

Insulting Navier and then pretending that Kosair pushes her after he yelled at her for it, 9/10, that whole jab at Naviers infertility was a low blow and by pretending to fall over, it put the baby at risk. Not cool Rashta, not cool.

Kosair gets banished as a result: 5/10 yeah I'll admit, Rashta played a hand in that and it's a time I won't entirely blame Sovieshu for that since he believed Kosair tried to injure his pregnant lover but he still got the final say regardless.

Telling Alan to fuck off: 0/10 that was girlboss of Rashta to tell Alan how it is. They can try to portray Alan as a soft boy who made a mistake all they want, Rashta had every right to snub her abuser and walk out like the bad bitch she is.

Slapping Lebetti: 0/10 more girlboss moments of Rashta there. Lebetti was basically talking shit and spewing crap like "You never got anywhere as my brothers plaything, I'm better than you cause Navier is willing to speak to me." Nah Rashta you don't let her talk like that you pop her in the mouth! Commenter's got real mad when their self insert got a taste of her own medicine.

Getting fake parents: 4.5/10 eh, it's not as if there's no reason, she does need evidence of a noble background so she doesn't get put out as the center of rumors and the parents in question weren't tricked, they were fully aware Rashta wasn't their bio daughter.

Giving Lebetti the same dress as her so she could make it seem like Lebetti copied her: 3/10. What? You expect me to feel bad for Lebetti just because she's a sweet baby when she's around Navier? Fuck that, that was just a dose of revenge.

Getting drugged with Abortion drugs...:0/10, how the FUCK was that Rashtas fault!? "She lied about Kosair the first time though!" And Kosair is also a grown ass man! He only made the situation for himself worse when he tried to make Rashta miscarry, and it's the one time I wouldn't blame Rashta for suspecting Navier had something to do with it since you know, he's her brother and Navier has disliked her since the beginning.

Ripping the feathers out of a bird and framing Navier for it: 10/10, yep, that's fucked up on all levels. Yeah she felt remorse for it but animal abuse is still animal abuse, all to pin the blame on Navier.

Wearing a flashy dress to the divorce ceremony: 2/10, she was going wear something more toned down and even questioned if wearing a pink dress with diamonds was a good call, and Ergi, a Duke who from Rashtas perspective would know the ins and out of regal life, told her "nah it's fine to wear this, show them what a boss bitch you are now."

Being excited to the empress: 0/10, apparently this is considered bad since Navier was the original empress, girl stfu and don't act like you wouldn't jump for joy if you were told you'd get to me the empress consort.

Getting peeved that her fake mom would cry about her lost daughters: 8.5/10 this isn't even just a messed up thought thats straight up inconsistent behavior. Rashta lost her own child, she of all people should know the pain of losing a baby! She didn't say it out loud but dear God the inconsistencies are killing me slowly.

Wanting a glamorous wedding dress: 1.5/10, simpler designs do suit Rashta best but at the same time it's her damn wedding and she barely has any autonomy as it is. Can't blame her for being upset when she's told she has to wear a simpler gown.

Lying to a journalist: 5/10, to be fair, Rashta had no plan for this and relied on Ergi, who told her to say she wanted the best for commoners so it would lower her reputation with the nobles.

Being irresponsible with the money Navier left for her: 8/10. On one hand it's not unreasonable that Rashta would assume that Navier was doing this to mock her (after all the money wasn't even to help Rashta, it was for the empire) but still, Rashta fucked up by donating it all in her name, that's on her, not Navier.

Being worried about Sovieshus love for her and getting upset when Delice defends him: 6/10. I wouldn't call this true evil, just Rashta taking it out on the wrong person, she was right on some level that Delice doesn't know it all since she does have a crush on him but the way she handled it could've been better.

Wearing an extravagant gown on her wedding day: 0/10, this ones just hilarious 😂, your telling me, that a royal bride from an era that's most likely in the late 1700s to 1800s, would be made fun of BY NOBLES mind you, for wearing an expensive dress. Yeah, uh, that's not a sin, that's just what most royal brides would do including ones like Queen Victoria and Catherine the great. In the words of Matty Bites she may be a broke bitch but she wants to be the prettiest bitch at the party.

faking another illness/fainting spell on her reception to claim Navier is out for her: 7/10, just more stupid shit that doesn't have long lasting consequences. It's bad for sure but Sovieshu doesn't even buy it anyway now that he's obsessed with Navier.

Being upset that Sovieshu is pining after his ex: 1/10. It's gotta sting for sure if the man who upended everything including his marriage to his first wife to be with you ends up ignoring you while crying and bitching about the ex he left for you.

Trying to appeal to nobles by throwing a party and dressing and acting like Navier: 5/10, again, that's weird as hell but not straight up evil, it does go against her whole thing about being for the commoners but she kind of hates both sides anyway.

The Delice incident: 10/10, framing a loyal maid for placing feathers in your pillow to deface you and later having her tongue torn out? Yeah sorry Rashta that wasn't very bad bitch of you this time.

smirking at Naviers wedding when she thinks something went wrong: 1/10 just saying she could've done so much worse, like wearing full white.

Once again calling Navier her sister now that they are both empresses: 6/10, it's not like the first time since now Rashta is just doing it to one-up Navier but I can't see it is as anything threatening since Navier just roasts her like usual, causing Rashta is retreat.

Being interested in Kaufman: 4/10, she didn't really do anything to him since he was already under the love potions effects and Rashta happened to be the person he first saw, she misunderstood the whole situation, and it's not like Sovieshu is really known for being loyal so if she did want to cheat, I wouldn't blame her.

being suspicious and upset when she thinks Evalie is here to be Sovieshus new mistress: 6.5/10, it's pretty hypocritical but still reasonable to be worried since she's gotta assert her position as empress so she won't get divorced and separated from her child. And Evalie rubbing salt in the wound wasn't helping (and frankly stupid considering she only did that because she was displeased that Navier was gone)

once again lying to the journalist about where Delice went, 9/10 "Oh your sister who was my maid went missing? That's horrible! she's totally not in my dungeon with one her senses permentally removed!".. what the hell.

Hiring maids and pitting them against eachother to see which are most loyal to her: 8.5/10, now she's just playing God at this point, the maids who are loyal to her get special treatment and their parents are prisoners and their lives are basically put at stake and those who mess up even a little... yeah uh, going on to out next sin.

Executing a maids dad after said maid accidently spread a minor rumor: 10/10, that poor man probably had no clue why he was sent to the gallows after being such a model prisoner. The maid (I think her name was Barta) snaps and hits Rashta with a chair, giving her a permanent scar, after Barta is likely imprisoned for attacking the empress she frees the mother of the maid who snitched. Can't defend Rashta on this one.

Having Phix killed to leave behind no evidence she hired an assasin: 10/10 okay yeah that is definitely awful and it's straight up murder but now it's just pulling characters out of the stories ass to fulfill a role to assert the message that Rashta is evil.

Giving a port to Duke Ergi: 7/10, this is when Rashta is really starting to lose it. She's desperate for her only friend to stay by her side and accept her feelings, Ergi then asks for a port to which Rashta accepts with a smile that can only read "dear God, someone just end my misery",

Relishing in Evalies parents slapping Evalie: 5/10, yeah, considering those people are slapping their daughter without knowing it, it's pretty harsh but Rashta didn't order them to do that, the parents did so that's on them. Rashtas only crime was her lack of remorse

Entrusting Nikki to steal Evalies necklace: 7/10, pretty damn mean but compared to the metal shit she did already it's baby stuff. Very creepy though.

Putting out a hit on Naviers parents: 10/10, this is just getting ridiculous now since what the hell was the purpose other then more obligatory "Rashta bad" moments, but it's still awful and messed up to try and kill someone's parents so a 10/10 it shall receive

Selling Lebetti into slavery: 9/10, okay while I don't really care about Lebetti being a slave now since she's been nothing but a brown nosing bitch everytime she's on screen, but selling someone into a marginalized group you were in is still messed up.

Keeping Evalies origins hidden from her parents: 8/10, now this makes all the times the parents looked down on Evalie even worse.

Being disappointed when her babies a girl: 1/10, this was extremely common in eras like that because daughters weren't seen as important and if a woman couldn't give birth to a son and the husband was getting impatient, he could divorce her and keep the daughters as property. So I can't blame Rashta too much when she realizes this, plus she does come to realize she could never blame Glorym for being a girl.

throwing her baby: 5/10. This one is also really complicated. Rashta already loved Glorym with all her heart and wanted the second chance to be a mom. But the traumas of her past combined with the guilt in the back her head for her past transgressions causes a PTSD attack causing her to toss what she believes is a dead baby in her arms. Rashta does later feel extremely guilty for this in the novel, since it wasn't her intention but it also put Gloryms life in danger, I gave it a half rating

Trying to kill her dad: 1/10, fuck that guy honestly he sold his own child into slavery, if anyone deserves to be the target of Rashtas Wrath it's that fucker. Unfortunately Sovieshu shut down what could've been great revenge

Wanting to use someone else's baby to practice so she can hold Glorym: 6/10, I fully understand that Rashta is desperate to be a mother and just wants to be trusted but I think she should stick to stuffed animals for the time being.

Telling Alan to get lost when he shows up with Ian, demanding she raise him like a prince: 2/10, even Rashta isn't that stupid, Ian is not the Emperors son, so he can't become a prince and it's just being greedy since that kid will still live a good life as a future Viscount. Alan, you already fucked up one time too many, you made your bed when you let Rashta think her child was dead (and it's implied he still assaulted her after that) now lay in it.

Bringing the sword to Naviers babyshower: 4/10, eh, can't blame her for the petty revenge there. Navier did humiliate her first.

Implying that the only reason Navier has Heinrey is because she rejected him: 6/10, basic mean girl comment that backfires, why am I even shocked anymore (honestly though the "are you interested in my husband's or are you interested in me?" Line goes hard.)

Killing a maid after she helped her escape and dooming herself just before her trial: 10/10 *sigh* why do we even bother anymore.

I think that's everything, let me know if I missed something.

Anyway, what did we conclude from this? Well Rashta was a compelling antagonist and when people weren't shitting on her enough. She became the ultimate evil with plots and schemes that made no damn sense and she became known as the most evil empress in history, everyone hated her from beginning to end, she was used and made into a tool as revenge for being mean to Navier, and she dies in a cell feeling guilty for everything she's ever done. You know what? At least she has that, she still had remorse and paid the price which is more than I could say for almost everyone else in this series who got nothing but consequences free rewards. Slavery is still a thing, Lebetti gets to raise Ian, Sovieshu stays in power, Ergi runs away with his mom and apparently marries Evalie (ew) and Heinrey gets away with murdering innocent people just because they worked for a guy who's son attempted a hit on her...

You know what? I'm starting to think Rashta wasn't punished for being evil and she was just punished for being evil without her supporting Navier license.