#his mouth looks so strange but i am too lazy to fix it. oh well…….. at least the rest of the drawing looks ok i think

[dailykeiji]

gril cheese anon here. i was copy pasting the message into other daily ask boxes so it’s they/them to apply to whatever character

sorry if I’m over explaining. they/them keiji ftw though

today’s keiji is: they/them keiji shinogi eating their grilled cheese

[chaos-burst]

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

*

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

*

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

*

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

*

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

*

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got  a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

[daevastanner]

Elucien: 20 lashes pt I

Elain finds herself more drawn to Lucien, so when she finds out about his past with Tamlin… unexpected consequences occur

There are negotiations to be made in the Spring Court with Tamlin. He needs aid in rebuilding his Court.

Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel are about to depart when Elain hears the High Lord say: Lucien will meet us there.

Elain doesn’t know why, but she speaks up, makes her presence known, and asks to tag along.

Nesta is a bit apprehensive to allow Elain anywhere near the unruly High Lord of Spring, but Feyre agrees before anyone can protest.

Elain wants to come (and Feyre ships Elucien) and that’s good enough for Feyre.

Rhysand respects her choice to join and is happy to allow her a chance to not be “coddled.”

It’s settled. She’s joining them. If only to get away from home for a bit. To get some air and see more of Prythian.

And if she’s being honest… to see Lucien.

She doesn’t know why she suddenly is feeling this pull to be near him but she is.

They arrive in the Spring Court, Tamlin’s manor is in shambles but there’s clearly been some effort to clean up. Likely to show that he is serious about turning things around.

As they approach the manor, Elain sees Lucien standing just outside the door, leaning lazily against the side of the house.

Her heart thunders and she can feel him. She can hear him. Hear them.

His eyes scan over the approaching Night Court and finally land on Elain. He stiffens and Elain feels something taut between them. A phantom thread.

But there’s a strange pinching in her chest and she could swear that there’s a glimmer of something like hope in his eyes.

Pleasantries are exchanged and everyone heads inside.

Tamlin, Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian and Azriel retreat into the study to meet. Nesta makes herself busy in Tamlin’s tarnished library leaving Lucien and Elain in the corridor.

Elain can’t tell if Nesta has done this on purpose, noting her sister’s recent interest in Lucien.

Lucien is examining his nails, again leaning against the wall. Elain can still feel that phantom thread between them, loose but still there.

She speaks first. “He has a garden, does he not?”

Lucien doesn’t meet her eyes, his tone is casual but the edge of his lip tilts up. “I think the word ‘garden’ is generous. Unless you consider weeds and brambles to be greenery.”

The small smile she wears is involuntary. It’s another moment before she speaks again.

“Would you show me?”

Lucien is silent, still not looking at her. For a moment she thinks that he’s ignoring her, but then he says: “Certainly.”

Elain follows Lucien and for the first time she finds herself observing him closely. His confidence and the sort of lazy grace with which he holds himself.

Lucien leads her outside and into an area that is spilling with weeds, overgrown shrubs, untamed bushes. It’s a mess.

“It’s beautiful,” Elain murmurs, her fingers brushing the emerald leaves of a misshaped hedge. “In a wild sort of way.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is actually ‘hopeless,’” Lucien snorts.

But Elain shakes her head. “No. No, nothing is really hopeless. There’s always… potential.”

That thread between them goes taut again, and this time Elain can see that he feels it too. He finally looks at her, brows furrowed but eyes soft.

The silence is thick, but not in a bad way.

Lucien clears his throat. “I’d always assumed you were an optimist.”

“Oh?”

Lucien nods and Elain is… flattered.

Lucien had seen her at her lowest. Lower than her lowest… and had still assumed the best of her.

She swallows the lump in her throat. “And what of you? Are you an optimist?”

Lucien laughs and Elain thinks to herself that he sounds like sunshine. She didn’t know males could sound like that. Could sound so warm and full of light.

“No,” he says, interrupting her thoughts. “I am a realist.” His eyes grow distant. “I suppose I once was an optimist, but… certain events transpired and my… perspective naturally changed.”

Elain fights off a frown. Lucien does not want her pity. She knows that.

He continues, “I admire that about you, if I may be so bold. You… you don’t seem to have lost your way. After everything.”

Her chest pinches again and that thickness in her throat returns.

Because no one has ever recognized that about her. No one has recognized that in spite of everything she’s been through and everything she became after the confrontation with Hybern, she’s emerged intact.

She has remained kind and optimistic. She’s even trying to better herself. To speak up. To not lie down and accept everyone’s sheltering.

And Lucien acknowledges that. Sees it.

Even though they hardly know one another.

“Well,” Elain says, trying to keep her voice even, “I’ve not been through half as much as you.”

“I’ve got quite a few years on you,” Lucien says mildly. But then he grins at her, “You’ve got plenty of time to catch up and become just pessimistic as me.”

Elain laughs, a quiet sound. “I thought you were a realist.”

“Semantics.”

And she laughs again.

The conversation continues in an easy manner. Lucien asks her to distinguish what is a plant and what is a weed and she explains how she might improve Tamlin’s garden were it hers.

“What’s that?” he says, pointing to a set of tall green leaves, a brown cylinder capping each one.

Elain peers at it curiously. “It’s a lake plant actually. Cat of nine tails.”

And Lucien flinches.

The thread goes taut, but in a bad way. A nervous way.

The word spills out of her before she can stop herself: “What?”

Lucien shakes his head. “Nothing.” He gestures to the distance. “There is a lake nearby. Could that be why it grows here?”

But Elain remembers Feyre’s story from Under the Mountain.

Lucien had helped Feyre.

And had received twenty lashes for it.

Elain’s hand raises and brushes Lucien’s arm.

He goes still, only turning his head to look at her.

Elain tries not to appear too sympathetic and only says, “I’m sorry.” Then let’s her hand fall.

Lucien glances at the spot where her fingers had touched him, then meets her eyes.

“You needn’t be,” he says with a wry smile. “It’s in the past. I long ago healed and have long since forgiven Tamlin.”

Elain blinks. “Forgiven Tamlin?”

Lucien inclines his head, lowering his voice, “Tamlin convinced Amarantha to spare my life, but instead he had to bestow me with twenty lashes.”

Elain’s eyes widen in surprise. Tamlin had whipped him?

Noting her expression, Lucien shakes his head, “It’s in the past.”

Elain feels a surge of anger—no, fury, wash over her.

Tamlin had whipped him.

He had whipped Lucien.

And she cared.

She more than cared.

Because Tamlin had whipped him.

Her mate.

Her hands ball into fist, nails biting into her flesh and creating smalls crescents in her palms.

Lucien studies her expression and there’s a look on his face she can’t quite define.

It’s surprise and fear and perhaps a bit of… gratitude?

But that’s secondary, what he feels.

Because Elain is mad.

“Excuse me.”

She turns on her heel, marching for the manor.

Lucien calls her name, but all she hears is the blood roaring in her ears.

Tamlin had whipped Lucien. Had harmed him. Had harmed her mate.

She didn’t care if it had saved his life. She didn’t care if Lucien had forgiven Tamlin.

He had still harmed her mate.

And in all her life, Elain has never been so furious.

She heads to the study, distantly aware of Lucien on her heels, but unwilling to answer his calls or protests that she come back.

Elain arrives at the study doors and flings them both open, storming into the room.

All conversation quiets, the doors bang against the walls.

Standing behind Rhys and Feyre, Azriel and Cassian become alert.

“Elain, what’s wrong?” asks the High Lady.

Elain can see Rhysand’s face out of the corner of her eye… can see his lips twitch just barely.

But she’s got her sights set on Tamlin who sits behind a worn desk in a weathered arm chair.

He gives her an imperious look, taking in her pink cheeks, the flat line of her lips, the way her fists are balled up, her flaring nostrils.

Tamlin’s eyes flick from her to Lucien who is frozen in the doorway, then back to her.

He angles his head. “You’re interrupting.”

“he had to bestow me with twenty lashes.”

The words echo in her ears and her whole body shakes.

That thread between her and Lucien is thick and electrified.

Tamlin exhales heavily as she glowers at him. “What?”

Elain has no idea what she’s doing, but she rears back her fist and hits Tamlin in his jaw.

Gasps and murmurs echo, she can hear Feyre say her name.

Tamlin rubs his jaw, looking at her incredulously.

Elain’s knuckles sing. She has never thrown a punch and she probably did it wrong, but damn did it feel good.

“Elain…” Lucien says, his tone both bewildered and concerned.

The High Lord of Spring rises from his chair and behind her Elain can here both Cassian and Lucien shuffle.

But she looks up at Tamlin unafraid, unwavering and says, “I owe you nineteen more.”

He opens his mouth to speak and then Elain does something very “un-Elain.”

She spits at his feet.

And then she shoves Tamlin’s chest.

The male staggers back just barely, his expression nonplussed.

But he looks at Lucien again and he seems to connect the dots.

Lucien starts, “I didn’t—“

Tamlin only lifts a dismissive hand, then slumps back into his chair. “Where were we?”

The complete disregard for her ire infuriates Elain further and despite the pain in her fingers…

Elain punches him again, this time in the shoulder.

He growls at her.

But Elain only says, “Eighteen.”

Then she turns away from him, walks past the slack jawed Cassian and Azriel, and exits the study, not bothering to shut the doors behind her.

She doesn’t look back but hears them close and Lucien murmur an apology.

Then he’s at her side again. “That… that wasn’t necessary, my lady.”

Elain halts in her tracks and fixes him with an unfaltering look. “It was.” Her brown eyes are fervent. “You deserve better.”

And she finds that she means it. She truly does.

Lucien’s expression is awestruck, but before he can say anything else she takes her leave.

The sunlight streaming in through the windows, catching on the pearl earrings she wears.

Link to part II here

[shoichee]

Hey luv! I just got my braces off and I don’t know if I like myself with or without them cause yah girl has ✨confidence issues✨ so can you do the GoM + Kagami and Teppei thanks my savior

OH, rn i have braces too (although they’re ceramic and harder to see) but I definitely can understand the apprehension when you have them taken off after for so long;; 

the amount of characters requested actually exceed the rules, but since i’ve taken a while to get to your request, i’ll still do them but they will be shorter^^ THANK YOU FOR STICKING BY THIS BLOG AND READING MY STUFF <3

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

right away, he notices that something was amiss with you, and asks upfront if anything was bothering you

you replied hesitantly, but while you talked you held up a hand in front of your mouth:

“Um… I don’t know if I like how I look right now…”

Kuroko stares at your nervous eyes and then looks down to your hand in front of your mouth before asking why

“Just got my braces off, and I feel a bit… weird without them? I feel like I look strange without them…”

“Do you mind if I see you?” he asks, softening his eyes at you

“W-Well… you’re not someone to judge, I know, but don’t… laugh or anything.”

“I won’t, (y/n)-san.”

he slowly brings your hand down and you slowly smile to reveal your teeth to him, and he gives you the purest smile… and that catches you off guard so badly like… YOUR TEETH GOT HIM TO SMILE LIKE THAT??? DAMN, MAYBE YOU SHOULD SMILE EVERY SECOND TO SEE SUCH A TREASURE—

“(y/n)-san, I think you look wonderful,” he muses, bringing your same hand that was in front of your mouth into his own hand with a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure everyone who sees you will think the same.”

ah Kuroko, the individual who has a knack in comforting people with his genuity (example: see Momoi)

whenever you do have those moments of self-consciousness again, he’s always there to calmly reassure you otherwise

Kise Ryouta

IMMEDIATELY sees your teeth when you talk, and freaks out like a little kid on Christmas

“(y/n)-cchi! (y/n)-cchi!!” he hoots around, pointing at his own teeth. “You got your braces off today! You look amazing!”

when you hesitate and tell him that you’re not so sure about yourself without your braces, he pinches your cheek and gives a little dramatic huff

“But (y/n)-cchi…! Come onnnn, trust me!” he says, giving a signature pout, and you laugh at his antics

“Ohhh, do that again! Do that again!” (he craves for your laughs, and he wants more)

he definitely tries to get you to smile and laugh to get you more comfortable with your braceless teeth

whether you have braces or not, he doesn’t mind so much because what he really cares about is your smile, and if he sees your teeth showing, braces or without, it means that he knows he’s doing a good job in making you comfortable and happy

while he showers you in praises every single moment, when you feel really down, he takes an extra measure or two to cuddle you gently while being much softer in delivering those compliments

always gives a daily compliment to give you a serotonin boost

Midorima Shintarou

he’s confused… why would you be upset that you got your braces off? you looked great before and even now, so does the fact of braces really change your perception of your appearance that much?

he won’t make any comment on your new appearance unless you bring it up to him and ask for his opinion/reassurance

he’s just happy for you that you have another milestone of your life, and not to mention, braces generally promote better oral health and fix misaligned bites

“Hm? What do I think of how you look? D-Don’t be ridiculous… What am I supposed to say?”

“Well, I just… think I look a little odd… I kind of… want my braces back.”

“You know you can’t do that, nanodayo,” he sighs. “So much money, effort, and care were invested into your teeth for many years. You did the most you could to take care of them and achieved the goal you set out for yourself when you first got braces, correct? That isn’t something to be ashamed of, nanodayo.”

despite his lecturing, his words do have some merit, and Midorima’s words were comforting in his own way

“But Midorima, um… sorry for annoying you,” you say, giving a chagrined smile

Midorima takes a good look at your exposed teeth for the first time and widens his eyes in a fluster before turning his eyes back to his astrology book

“I-I-It’s nothing.”

bonus: he’s definitely that one fussy parent who forces you to wear your retainers religiously, NO EXCUSES—he doesn’t want the whole process to be all for naught just because you got lazy in wearing a simple metal thing

Aomine Daiki

idiot #1

“Whoa, your teeth look different,” is something he would say tactlessly

immediately, you slapped your hands over your mouth at his words

forgive him, he usually says what’s on his mind with no filter and consideration

by then, he’d realized that the tone of his words was poorly delivered and would try to correct himself before he says anything more to dig himself a deeper grave

“Er, sorry, what I mean is… I didn’t know you were gonna have them off today…”

that actually made you more self-conscious and you try to flee from the scene

“W-Wait, hey!”

insert Aomine clumsily explaining that he didn’t mean to be tactless with his words and that he just meant that he was surprised in a good way

definitely shows you a lot more wholesome affection in addition to his usual PDA, but you wonder what he thought about your new “appearance,” so to speak

“What kinda question is that?” he scoffs. “You’re still hot and always will be.”

if there’s one sure benefit to his blunt words, it’s that his straightforwardness can easily dispel all your doubts and clear up any misunderstandings in one go

if you’re still doubtful about yourself, he’ll gladly resort to action to prove his point… perhaps makeout sessions with him would become a lot more exploratory and… just putting it out there, but we will leave this up to your imagination

anywho, he’s not afraid to give you more direct kisses to try to show you that he doesn’t care about your teeth and your lack of braces

definitely would tell out-of-pocket jokes and laugh more to get you to grow comfortable; after all, smiling is contagious right? who can resist Aomine’s smile???

if someone tried to make you uncomfortable by drawing everyone’s attention nearby in how you got your braces off, whether intentional or not, he’s scaring them away, no questions asked and he’s taking you away from the scene

Murasakibara Atsushi

“Oh…” he says with his usual drawl. “You got them off, Chibi-chin?”

it was a usual day with him tucking his own head into his arms to nap on the table when you walked up to him apprehensively, and he immediately notices your presence but lazily picks up his head to look at you when he noticed

“Er… yeah…”

he slightly tilts his head to the side like an inquisitive child to silently question what was wrong

“It’s nothing really! Just feeling tired… not in the talkative mood today.” as you said this, he noticed that you were more… tight-lipped, speaking in a quieter manner as if you were trying not to show your teeth as much as possible

he beckons a languid hand over and you reluctantly sit by his side, your face still slightly turned away

you thought he was just going to go back to sleep like he always does, but imagine your surprise when he easily picks you up from the side and placed you on his lap, face-to-face

Murasakibara then pulls your cheeks apart, revealing your pearly whites to him

“H-H-Hey!! Lert… gorw!”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I’m… serwious!”

he stares at you impassively for a few moments before he suddenly lets your cheeks go and yawns

“... you look fine, Chibi-chin,” he mumbles, and he sets you off his lap before getting up with a stretch. “Besides, now that you don’t have braces anymore, you can finally eat whatever you want right…?”

“I… guess I can…”

and he’s already reaching for your hand to tug you to the nearest takeout with a slight shine of excitement in his dark pupils

“Chibi-chin, we can finally eat those candy apples together you’ve always craved for, lots and lots…”

he’s very fixated on you eating with your braceless teeth for the next few weeks with a small smile on his face, because you enjoying the food you eat are some of the simplest joys he loves when he’s with you (and you hadn’t been able to do that because your braces forbidden you from eating a list of things)

definitely drags you out for food outings a lot more for the next few weeks

he tries his best in trying to make you not think about your teeth and your self-consciousness about them in his roundabout way (note: see his cheek pulling, distracting you with your favorite snacks, etc.)

he’s not someone to make any deal out of it because worrying over such a trivial thing is annoying to him, but nonetheless he certainly wants to make sure that nothing is bothering you because that’s the greatest inconvenience (since he doesn’t like to see you in such a state)… you being upset and worried makes him upset and worried, after all

Akashi Seijuro

he immediately understands that feeling of self-doubt/self-consciousness, but nonetheless he compliments you to let you know that he truly finds you desirable/beautiful inside and out

still, words alone sometimes don’t convince you and even when he gives physical affection to comfort you, there’s still that nagging feeling of how you felt about your teeth

and he’s totally okay with that, and he knows that feeling very well himself (regarding having inner voices that taunt him)

rather than constantly hammering in compliments because he knows that at some point they’d feel more disingenuous the more he says them, he offers you to help overcome the self-consciousness on your own terms

Akashi offers the suggestion of wearing face masks (not necessarily the surgical ones, but the cute/plain colored masks you’d see around!) if you have certain days where you feel low about your braceless teeth

he’d be quite sly and teasing all the while; whenever you wear your cute mask for the day, he’d be a lot more affectionate with the PDA and give pecks on your lips… but the mask is always in the way, preventing you from feeling actual contact with his own lips

he can tell you’d definitely get pouty when you don’t really feel those kisses and he simply laughs and walks on

“You…! I know you only try to kiss me when I have the mask on! Don’t play dumb with me!”

“Hm? Is it really a crime for me to show physical affection to the person I love?”

he eventually does help you coax you out and become comfortable, and your face masks would eventually be stored away in a drawer

he rewards you for being strong in overcoming your own doubts:

“To celebrate your strength in overcoming a huge milestone, what would you like your reward to be?”

“For starters, give me back all those kisses you tried to give me throughout all the times I wore a mask!”

“Of course,” he chuckles, moving closer to your lips. “How could I ever resist you when you’re this stunning?”

Kagami Taiga

idiot #2 (see idiot #1)

unlike idiot #1, idiot #2 doesn’t notice the change on your teeth, at all

he doesn’t know why you’re fidgeting around or acting really, really strange… were you hungry? upset at him for something he didn’t realize he did wrong?

so after a few days after you got your braces off, he finally asks:

“Is there something wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

poor guy doesn’t know if he was at fault or if he was missing something, and he physically holds his head to try to recall EVERYTHING for the past week

you reassure him that it wasn’t anything like that, but you still had furrowed brows and you were very careful in how you were talking

Kagami thinks you haven’t eaten and offers to make dinner, but eating in front of him for some reason really didn’t sound like a good idea to you so you declined

you’ll eventually tell him that you just felt a bit self-conscious after your braces got taken off

“Huh?”

he stares at your teeth for a very long time, and you immediately regret it, not wanting to draw his attention to you like that

he snaps out of his intense daze and immediately apologizes for making you uncomfortable

“M-My bad… I just didn’t notice until you told me.”

“Really?” you ask, slightly relieved that the change wasn’t as drastic as you thought it would be

“Er, yeah…” he mumbles, scratching his cheek, “you look good, by the way…” but by the time he finished his compliment, it came out as a cough

you can only laugh in relief, knowing that everything he says is always earnest and sincere

Kiyoshi Teppei

definitely noticed that your braces were off, but pretends to not notice until you bring it up yourself because he’s quite sharp and in tune with other people’s emotions

so he treats you like he always does, being the sweet “airhead” that he is, and he waits until you bring it up yourself (because he knows how self-conscious you were about your lack of braces)

you yourself are confused… like… was Teppei actually dense? was your whole inner dilemma not a big deal like your mind thought it would be?

you tug on his sleeve one day and ask him if he noticed your teeth, pointing to them all the while

and he immediately chastises himself (“silly me”) for not noticing, and he tells you that you were beautiful either way, and whether you had braces or not didn’t change that inherent fact (and that was his “reason” for not noticing to reassure you)

all while giving his easy going chuckles and ruffling your hair

laughs at your shyness at his words, not because it’s funny or anything but he truly finds you adorable

once you get comfortable without giving a second thought about your braces gone, he just drops the truth bomb on you so casually like:

“Ahhhh (y/n)-san,” he sighs in nostalgia. “You were really cute when you were so shy about getting them off, you know that?”

“Now wait a second…”

“Hm?”

“What did you say?”

“That you’re really cute.”

“No, no, the other part.”

“Whenever you get shy.”

“That is not what I mean and you know that—”

“Aww, you’re being really cute right now, (y/n)-san. Don’t tempt me to carry you around when I just finished with my physical therapy.”

[cuquitalocita]

the hot girl from physics class- rowaelin

AN: okay this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and i just found it again. this is literally just self indulgent bickering with absolutely not plot in mind. also my first time writing rowaelin because i had no desire to butcher them so... anyway here’s to first tries and i hope you all enjoy!

main masterlist

~~

Rowan’s mouth tasted of metal.  Or maybe it was blood.  

The second thing that hit him was the inability to breathe through his mouth as he attempted to swallow a mouthful of nonexistent air.  The motion sent his eyes shooting open, immediately registering that while his mouth was covered, his nose was not, and he managed a large inhale of hot air before exploding into a rage of rough coughs that left him breathless and once again on the verge of blacking out.  Rowan thrashed in what seemed to be a chair, quickly realizing that both his arms and legs were bound tighter than he thought possible, and no amount of lacrosse training could prepare him for the fatigue he felt at that moment.  The dark spots in his vision didn’t seem to help either and his sweat shone skin seemed to melt in on itself as he took a few more breaths through his nose, slower this time until he was somewhat steady.  

It was only then he felt stable enough to figure out what the hell had happened.  The last thing he remembered was excusing himself to go to the bathroom before the bus was supposed to take off.  He had been walking down the empty hallway one moment and the last thing he could recall was the strange sensation of being as light as a feather before darkness overtook him.  And now he was here.  And… where was here exactly?

A sort of warehouse it seemed, with tall metal walls and a lofted ceiling, freezing regardless of the fact that it was barely fall meaning it was most likely abandoned.  Night shone through the glass windows he identified to his right and left and across from him sat-

“CELEANA?” Rowan attempted to scream out, his cloth-filled mouth muffling the sound to almost nothing.  But he was right, and his vision refused to fail him as his eyes widened at the hot girl from physics class who now sat across from him in a much more comfortable looking chair than his hard wooden one, sporting casual leggings, a stained t-shirt, an insanely messy bun, and the smuggest expression he had ever seen. Strands of golden hair sprang out every which way and Rowan was hit with the inherent desire to smooth it out himself. His heart did terrified somersaults as he took in her (clearly) laid back posture and bored eyes and he stiffened as Celeana pulled up one of her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, one of her hands clutching a small book.  It was only then he noticed the highlighter sticking out from between her teeth.  If he wasn’t gagged, he would’ve been gaping.  She was studying.  

“Well look who’s awake,” she mused, her voice somehow sounding deeper than it had before.  Rowan couldn’t deny how smooth it sounded and how naturally it suited her.  “Hey, sleeping beauty.”  There was no mistaking the smirk that curled onto her lips and the sparkle in her unique turquoise eyes as she gazed at him, her look solely calculating as she took him in from head to toe, zeroing in on something close to his head.  

The tip of the gun was colder than he imagined it would be, the hard metal sending a shock through his entire body and forcing a scream out of his mouth, damning the gag.  The sound was just as muffled as he thought it would be, barely loud enough to alert anyone within a four-foot radius to his whereabouts.  Still, he didn’t relent.  He screamed with everything.  He screamed with his anger, he screamed with his disgust, he screamed with his confusion, and he even screamed with his sadness, the emotion he hadn’t felt since his mother had died.

When the blonde had waltzed into his physics class for the first time two weeks ago sporting a bright grin and gleaming eyes, Rown hadn’t known what to expect. It certainly wasn’t the charming and positively addictive person he ended up meeting. Elegant and beautiful Rowan had been unable to tear his eyes away from her, even as she deliberately placed herself in the seat next to him, shooting him a brilliant smile. Celeana had been wholly consuming, something Rowan was now kicking himself for, and the two had fallen into an easy conversation, him unable to hold up his usually angry exterior when it came to her. They had flirted- quite a lot, if he remembered correctly and despite his constant lacrosse practices, Rowan had even found himself agreeing to help her with her physics homework. It had only taken one word from her cursing Einstein and Rowan knew he was done for. He hadn’t gotten the chance to ask her out yet- he had meant to do it after his game today. So what in hellas was he doing here?

Rowan screamed until his throat gave out, his wide eyes never faltering as he stared in what was pure shock at Celeana across from him, who seemed to be doing nothing but gazing at him, her eyes cold and calculating, a contrast to the small quirk at the corner of her lips.  By the time his throat gave out and his eyes yearned to drop shut in exhaustion, Celeana had closed her book and tucked the highlighter on top of her ear.  She wasn’t watching him anymore; instead, her gaze was fixed next to him, to the person who most certainly held the gun to his head.  A gun which Celeana seemed entirely unfazed by.  If anything, her eyes seemed to sparkle more and the other side of her mouth pulled up before she said,

“I win, pay up.”  A shift in sound and the gun behind him before a much deeper and older voice spoke now.

“Actually Miss, you said less than thirty minutes.  I said less than ten.  And it seems it was…” the gun was momentarily lifted from his head as the older man checked something on his arm, allowing him a sharp exhale.  “Seven minutes.  Which means, I won.”  The corner of Celeana’s mouth pulled down in a frown and she glared at the person behind him.

“Oh, you’re no fun Brullo,” she sighed.  “Fine.  I-” she was cut off as he commenced screaming again, louder this time after he had taken a lungful of air.  Her eyes widened for a smidge of a second in surprised shock which quickly faded into her smirk again.  When he finished screaming this time, it was because Celeana was looking him straight in the eyes, her gaze more powerful than should be possible for a girl her age.  And it told him everything he needed to know: he wasn’t going anywhere.  The sound fell from his voice and he glared fire at the girl across from him who only rolled her eyes when he attempted to open his mouth again. Her own fire blazed back at him. 

“Oh my god, are you done?” she asked in exasperation, the smirk no longer on her face, just pure teenage annoyance as she looked back at him.  He was at a loss for words as she put her book down on the ground next to her boots and looked back at him.  “Okay,” she said as if he was a wounded puppy she didn’t know how to approach.  She wasn’t afraid, just wary.  “I’m gonna take the gag off now and please, for the love of the gods, please Ro, don’t even try to scream.  With as much as I love your mouth, and believe me, I really do,” she gave him a wink and he let out a growl laced with disgust and ignoring the electricity in his blood at the look she gave him.  “I have no interest in hearing you any more than I have to today.  Got it?”

He said nothing, his glare unwavering as Celeana stood from her chair and approached him, the gun to his head tensing as if the bearer was more alert than he had been a moment ago.  Rowan wondered exactly how he was supposed to even move when his arms and legs were bound and just to prove it he went still as Celeana leaned forward, her blue eyes suddenly level with his as she reached towards the back of his head and untied the intricate knot in a quick movement of her hands. He attempted not to inhale her intoxicating scent- jasmine and lemon verbatim. She was back in her seat before Rowan could register the air on his mouth and he gulped down a few breaths as he looked at her again, unsurprised to find she was looking at him as well.  His heart did a relay in his chest as his green eyes met her blue ones and she arched a brow, smirking again.

“Like what you see?”  His answering glare said enough until the silence was too much.

“Who are you?” he growled and Celeana laughed coldly, either at him or something else, he didn’t know.  She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and Rowan tried not to focus on it.

“You know who I am,” was all she said.  

“I thought you were Celeana but apparently I don’t know shit considering you kidnapped me and tied me to a chair.”  His voice was ice as he snapped at her and Rowan enforced his point by shaking his arms and legs and wincing at the pain.  Celeana’s gaze showed no sympathy or remorse for him and his heart sunk at the realization that he wasn’t surprised.  He had no idea who this girl was, he realized.  Celeana leaned back in her chair, her posture lazy once more, and began to mess with her nails.  It was only then that Rowan realized they were dark red underneath and he swallowed, his gaze snapping up to Celeana’s.  She followed his eyes with her own in a bemused way until realization struck her and her eyes widened.

“I- oh god, chill out, it’s just Taki dust,” she assured him, holding up a purple bag of spicy chips she pulled out from under the chair as evidence.  She let out a huff of a laugh and shoved the open bag at him in a questioning gesture.  She shoved one in her mouth before asking, “Want one?”  Her voice was almost as muffled as his had been and he glared at her, his eyebrows shooting up to remind her of his arms and legs.  “Fine,” she muttered.  “Have it your way.”  Celeana’s eyes shot up to the person behind Rowan as she dusted her fingers off and something flashed in her eyes before the light weight of the gun was removed from his temple.  He exhaled.

“What do you want from me?  My aunt will-”

“Spare me the family connections pretty boy, we’re not interested.  I will say this, it isn’t personal.”

“Why the hell should I believe anything you said when everything you’ve said so far has been a lie?” he snapped, attempting to find some sort of ground. 

“Well, that just isn’t true.  I really do suck at physics, Ro,” she said smiling, pointing to the book at her feet.  “Hawking is kicking my ass this year,” she grumbled and if she was anyone else he would have laughed.

“Don’t bullshit me, who the hell are you?”  Her eyes sparkled at his defiance and he stiffened as the man who had been holding the gun to his head padded up next to Celeana.  He was easily a foot and a half taller than her, making her look like nothing more than a tiny ant in comparison to him, and he had to be at least his aunt’s age.  But the muscle that quivered beneath his leather jacket was enough of a difference for Rowan.  Celeana’s grin grew.

“Are you gonna drop the ‘woe is me hero act’ any time soon?  I’m just curious as to whether I should get some popcorn or not,” was all she replied.

“Pretty gutsy coming from a girl holding an innocent person against his will,” he snapped back. Faster than he could have thought possible Celeana’s playful expression had shriveled into cold hard menace, the look sending a spineful of shivers down his back and forcing his heart into his throat.  Gone was the girl who enjoyed witty bantering.  In her place was the monster he had painted her as from the moment he had opened his eyes.  Rowan realized he should have taken laid-back Celeana when he had the chance because there was no doubt in his mind that the girl in front of him could and would end his life when given the chance.

Celeana’s posture stiffened and the hand that had been playing with her hair stilled as the man beside her placed a hand on her shoulder.  Whether it was meant to be a warning or a comfort, Rowan didn’t know.  Celeana’s face turned cold, her playful pretense officially vanishing.

She sneered and leaned forward on her elbows until they were almost nose to nose.  Rowan refused to shrink back as much as he wanted to.  The feeling coursing through his veins was unfamiliar to him: fear.  “You know something, prince?” she asked.  Her smirk was purely feral.  “I don’t like you very much.  And I’m not beyond beating your ass to prove it.  So shut up, and do what you’re told and you might live.”  With that, Celeana pushed her hands off of her knees and leaned back in her chair as if nothing had happened.

Rowan swallowed, knowing there was no point in hiding his fear of her.  It was so strong she could probably smell it on him.

“Why am I here?” he snarled.

“That isn’t your concern, and frankly I don’t feel like explaining it to you.”  

“Are you ever going to give me a straight answer?”

“Why would I, when you seem so hell-bent on hating me?” How could he explain to her that he wanted to, gods did he want to. And yet he could still feel his emotions attempting to fight him.  

“Who are you?”

“You tell me.  I think you know.  I think that pretty face is for more than just looks.”  He gulped at the realization that this wasn’t a dream.  He was really sitting in a warehouse, bound to a chair, while full-fledged members of the mafia stared at him. He really hated his aunt sometimes. 

“You don’t look like the rest of them.  You’re-”

“Prettier?  Smarter?  Wittier?  Tell me something I don’t know.” Celeana was picking at her nails again. 

“So what are you supposed to be?  Good cop?”  Her answering smile chilled his bones.

“Something like that.  It would help to tolerate me.”

“You try being friendly with the people holding you prisoner.” Celeana’s smile vanished. 

“You’d be surprised.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Like I’d tell you.”  Rowan was really wishing he had witty Celeana back because this one seemed to hate him just as much as he hated her.  “Now I really suggest shutting the hell up with the questions before that bullet ends up between those pretty little eyes of yours.”

“Miss, your uncle called.  He’ll be home at eight.”  A chill went down his spine as Celeana’s face went white.  He almost thought he was seeing things when something like fear flashed in her eyes for a moment before it was gone and replaced with her smirk again, this one which didn’t quite reach her eyes.  

“Well,” Celeana said, grunting as she stood up and hauled her backpack and book over her shoulder.  “This has been fun, but I’m gonna have to leave you boys to it.”  Rowan knew something was wrong when she blew him a kiss, barely looking over her shoulder as she opened the door to the warehouse, pausing with one foot out.

Celeana turned back to him, the side of her face even more beautiful in the reflecting moonlight. As her eyes met his, Rowan felt pinned in place by the intensity in her own. 

“Aelin,” she said quietly.  “My name is Aelin. My mom used to call me Celeana when we would sneak out of the house together,” she paused before adding, “It wasn’t all a lie.”  With that, she silently slipped out the door, shutting it solidly behind her and leaving Celeana staring at the empty place where she had just been.

It wasn’t all a lie.

~~

drink your water :) 

[chironshorseass]

I u want, could u mayhaps write about annabeth seeing percy after a long time apart and realizing his voice grew deeper? I saw a post about it once and I think u would nail it perfectly<3

TIME PASSES SO QUICKLY AHH but here it is! I also got another request of pre-relationship percabeth and let’s just say that y’all read my mind. Also sorry that I can’t seem to write anything under 1k words 😩

read on ao3

“So I heard Percy’s coming today,” Silena said casually, holding a basket against her hip.

Annabeth yanked one of the strawberries so hard that its leaves came along with it.

“He is?”  

She didn’t try to shroud her excitement like she would’ve done, not too long ago.

“Yeah. Charlie told me.”

She felt a twinge of jealousy that Percy hadn’t even mentioned it to her, but she quickly clamped it down. It wasn’t his fault. Not entirely, anyway. They’d IM’d at the beginning of their semester as freshmen, but then it had gotten to the point of him mentioning Rachel all the time, and then the year had gotten busier, and…

Well, they’d lost contact.

Realizing she’d zoned out, she blinked away the fog from her eyes.

“But honestly I wasn’t supposed to tell,” Silena was saying. “He said something about it being a surprise or whatever. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

Annabeth must’ve been doing something strange with her face, because Silena gave her a smug look, raising her eyebrows. She was used to her doing that, so she didn’t mind.

Well, maybe a bit.

But the daughter of Aphrodite already knew everything there was to know about her feelings for Percy. Probably before even Annabeth first realized that she was in love with her best friend. So again, it was pointless to hide from her.

“So.” Silena bumped her gently on the shoulder. “What are you gonna wear?”

Annabeth lifted her sun hat and stared at her for a couple of seconds. The latter looked as perfect as ever, despite the grueling sun. With her pink crop top, mini shorts, perfect makeup, and her dark hair pulled back into a low bun, Annabeth had little doubt that she could help her choose a different outfit other than her torn camp wardrobe. But, still, this was Percy.  

Her best friend.

“Mmm...no, it’s fine. We’ve got to finish the south side of the strawberry fields, so, we can’t lose time, ya know?”

Silena gaped at her, then scoffed.

“What am I going to do with you, Chase?” she muttered, crouching to the ground again and shoving her hands into the foliage. “But whatever—it’s your call. Like, you’re so pretty that you actually look good in that sorry excuse of an outfit.”

Her eyes roved over Annabeth’s shirt and jeans. She felt herself blush at the attention.

“Hey, is that blood?”

“Uh...Maybe—but it’s old! Don’t worry.”

“A lost cause, I tell you.”

:

It had been too long since she’d caught a glimpse of that tell-tale curve of the shoulders and those raven curls.

Percy was early. Most of the summer campers always came the next week or so from this one, but she wasn’t complaining about his untimely arrival. Not when he looked that cute in his school uniform and with that ridiculously messy hair.

She regarded him from afar as he chatted with Beckendorf by the Big House porch, a bag slumped over his shoulder. Something about him—in the way he laughed or how he suddenly looked taller—made her stomach drop like a volleyball, made every blade of grass seem brighter.

Running up to him, she yelled, “Hey, stranger! Why so early?”

He turned to the sound of her voice, flashing her that crooked grin of his. Gods, she’d missed him.

“Hey yourself!”

When she finally reached the two boys, she skidded to a halt in front of Percy and gave him an exaggerated once-over.

“Why’d you still have your uniform on, Seaweed Brain?”

“Do I?” he gazed down at his white shirt and gray pants. His eyes flicked to her again, smiling sheepishly. “Oh. Kinda forgot I had it on, I guess.”

“Man, I’ve already told you,” Beckendorf said. “Leave the fancy shit home.”

“I forgot, okay? You know I hate this stupid uniform.”

In her honest opinion, the uniform seemed to be quite the opposite of stupid. Really, it should've been a crime to look that good in white and rolled up sleeves.

“Yeah, whatever.” Beckendorf glanced back and forth from Percy to Annabeth. He smirked and patted Percy on the back. “Anyway,  I’ll leave you to it.”

She watched him stroll to the Big House and step inside. He’d probably been here—with Percy—in the first place because of a favor from Chiron.

They stood there, letting the silence build up.

His eyes were warm, green like the shallow sea. Annabeth had always thought that she’d get used to that color, that luminescence. But she never did. Every time she peered up at them, it felt like the first time all over again. She could drown in those eyes and beam up at the fading sky and not beg for breath.

But now, it was worse. It was worse because she could tell that he’d grown. Actually grown. She didn’t quite know how to feel about the fact that his voice had abruptly dropped at least an octave lower than from last summer and that from now on, she’d have to lift her chin to meet his eyes.

“You’ve changed,” she blurted out.

She probably winced a little. Hopefully, she’d sounded casual.

“In what way, exactly?” His mouth twitched into a grin, cheeks dimpling, and her nervousness faded to a quiet buzzing. “That I’m finally taller than you?”

She pushed him away lightly to cover up the flush that was surely painting her cheeks a light pink. This was stupid. He was just being stupid. It was just Percy, for gods’ sake.

“Yeah, taller than me by like, an inch.”

“Admit it, you’re jealous.”

“I hate you.”

That was a lie, and Percy knew it.

“No, you don’t.”

“How am I supposed to keep things out of your reach, now?”

“See, that’s the point. Now I get to pick on you. Shortie.”

Annabeth stuck her tongue out. “You’re such a child.”

He laughed again, giving her whiplash from how different the sound rang in her ears. His laughter had always been a comfort to her, something that made her chest warm and gave her the motivation to try and let it out of him, again and again.

And it still was.

But this new laugh, however, had a richness to it that she felt down to her toes. He threw his head back, eyes crinkling like they always did. And yet, she found new angles to it. Saw a strange glow. He stood under the spotlight of a brand new theater, making everything he did seem like something new and foreign.

It dawned on her that she was staring like an idiot, even after Percy’s smile had faded to a lingering tug of the mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, plain and honest. In many ways, he hadn’t changed. Not really.

“Me too.” Their eyes stayed interlocked for a couple more seconds. She cleared her throat. “Have you, uh...told Chiron you’re here?”

“He already knows.”

“Psh. So am I the only one that didn’t know about you coming here?”

She didn’t mean to sound so accusatory, but there was no backing out, now.

He ducked his head. It was barely recognizable, but she could always tell when he was blushing.

“I...well, you know, wanted to, um—surprise you.”

Another awkward pause.

Percy scratched the back of her head. “Do you, uh...wanna walk with me? To my cabin?”

“Sure.”

:

“You know,” he said. “My mom made you cookies.”

“Are they any good?” she teased.

He turned to give her an incredulous look. “This is my mom we’re talking about. Of course they’re good.”

“Okay...well, what are you waiting for? Hand them over, Seaweed Brain.”

“In a sec. I’m too lazy to open my bag right now, in the middle of camp.”

As they walked, Annabeth noticed how heads turned when the campers got a good look at the two of them together. Most of them just stared at Percy. They passed by some of her siblings carrying spears; she saw Malcolm wink and felt herself blush again.

“Anyway, you wouldn’t have guessed what I got on my finals,” Percy was saying.

She glared pointedly at Malcolm, then whirled her head to look at Percy again. “What’d you get?”

“Guess.”

“Oh my gods, Percy. Just tell.”

He smiled and gave her a sideways glance. “You’re no fun.”

But even if he said it casually, the comment dug deeper than she would’ve liked. Did he think Rachel was fun? She decided not to dwell on that.

Annabeth was the one talking to him. Not Rachel.

He glanced at her once, but seemingly decided to fix his gaze forward. His eyes sparkled in a way that she knew meant he was trying to hold back a grin. He’d failed in the attempt, though.

“Okay, I’ll just say it: A ‘B’ plus.”

Her jaw dropped. “Percy!”

“Yeah,” he laughed.

“Oh my gods!”  

Clarisse, standing by the Ares cabin, mimed Annabeth, mouthing her words and making kissy faces. She mostly ignored it, too distracted on what Percy had just said.

Her heart swelled at the thought of all the work he must’ve put himself through.

She grasped his arm. “I’m so proud of you, Perce.”

“Yeah, me too. Paul helped, though. And mom.”

“Give yourself some of the credit.”

He sighed happily. “I guess I can say that I didn’t cheat. Well, maybe a little.”

She tried to shove him, but he danced away.

“Ohh, don’t tell me that you’ve never cheated on anything.”

“Okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Like maybe once or twice.”

“See?”

“But whatever. You got a ‘B’ and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah. It is.”

They smiled at each other for a second, then, he shouldered his bag and stopped by cabin three. The abalone shell seemed to glow brighter when he stood next to it.

Before she could stop herself, she said, “We should celebrate.”

He lifted one of those thick eyebrows of his and leaned back against the door frame. “What do you mean?”

“You know…” she kicked some of the stray pebbles from the ground, suddenly flustered. “Your grades. It deserves a celebration, don’t you think?”

His face lit up once more. “Oh! Yeah, like a picnic or something? We could eat the cookies Mom made—unless you want them for yourself, which is fine—”

“No!” She bit her lip. “I mean—sharing is cool. I’d like that.”

Annabeth decided it best not to visibly cringe at herself. Who’d even say “sharing” and “cool” at the same time?

Luckily, Percy nodded along with her. “Okay. Cool. Wait—that reminds me…” He unzipped his bag, hands already roaming around inside it. “Ah, here it is.”

He took a take-out like box with red flowers painted around the sides. They looked handmade. She accepted the gift with a smile.

“Who made these?” she asked, examining the paintings closer. “They’re pretty.”

When she saw his smug look, she didn't have to think twice about who had decorated it.

“I did,” he said. Her expression must’ve still been akin to impressed shock, because he chuckled. “What? You think I can’t be artistic?”

She shrugged. It was a simple fact, really. “Since when did you learn?”

“Uh, Rachel taught me.”

“Oh.”

He nodded tightly.

Right. While she’d lived on the other side of the country, alone and with a family who still wasn’t that comfortable around her, he’d been off with his new mortal girlfriend. And how much time must it have taken for Rachel to teach him how to do those precise brushstrokes? To combine those colors properly? Days or more, she knew.

They’d been busy.

She pretended not to care, anyway, opening the box to check on the cookies. “They, um...They look good!” She met his eyes so that he could see just how sincere her words were—because they really did look divine. Divine and blue. “Give Sally my thanks. And you must’ve worked really hard on this. So, thanks also.”

Annabeth noticed how he relaxed at the change of subject. Idiot.

“I will. And nah, it was nothing. I just really wanted to, um, to contribute with the gift. I guess. And mom loves you, so…”

“Loves me more than you?”

He snorted. “Probably.”

The edges of her mouth quirked up. “So...when are you up for that celebratory picnic thing?”

“Uh...from what I remember, I think my schedule’s got like, free time at around five. That sound good?”

Her mind buzzed through her list of daily activities, relieved to find something else to think about other than the awkwardness that now lingered in the air.

“Yeah, I think I’m free at five, as well. Tomorrow, right?”

“Sounds good to me.”

:

It wasn’t the same. That, she could tell.

She bit the inside of her cheek, watching him fight with Clarisse. So they’d go on a picnic together. Big deal.

She’d just barely stepped outside cabin three when Silena had dragged her away, begging for every detail.

Annabeth wasn’t going to lie: she was excited. More so than she’d let on. And yet, she wasn’t sure if he liked her that way.

Not with other girls fanning over him, now. Girls like Rachel.

How could she have let him go so easily? How was this the first time in months since she’d last seen him?

She’d spent the day pretending it was fine. Her heart ached whenever he was near, but it also hurt when he was gone. She couldn't have it both ways.

So yes, everything was fine.

Maybe if she said those words enough, then she'd start to believe it and stop with this feeble act of hers. This pretending that none of the shit they’d been festering against the other mattered. And in the process, also pretend that these new feelings she had for him—that didn’t feel so new—never existed in the first place.

Then again...what was she thinking?

This was her best friend. Her best friend whom she’d tried to kiss about a year ago and who hadn’t even breathed a word about it since. Who talked to her like he was stepping around eggshells. Who was clearly not interested in her in that way if what she suspected about Rachel was true and who had suddenly become one of the most attractive guys in Camp Half-Blood.

She hated this. This sensation of her heart beating faster, her breath coming short. Her brain fading any thought away, leaving it lustrous with the image of Percy. Percy this and Percy that. His stupid smile and his stupid laugh and—

Ice-cold water struck her skin, stopping her thought process short like a shock wave.

“Sorry,” Silena said, not actually sounding sorry. Stray water dripped from her hand. “You were spaced out for a while.”

Their canoe boat rocked back and forth along with the gusts of wind.

“Okay,” Annabeth said, glaring at her friend. She wanted to wipe that cheeky grin off her face. “Now you’re just asking for it.”

With a sharp, practiced tug, she flipped them over. Silena’s screech died when they hit the water.

She resurfaced, spluttering, splashing Annabeth again and again.

“You little shit! I am going to kill you!”

“What?” Annabeth laughed, choking on water. “I thought your makeup’s waterproof!”

Silena threw more water at her.

“Your point?”

And okay, maybe they looked like fools fighting in the middle of the lake, laughing and joking around. But it was fine; no one was there to witness it except perhaps the naiads and the cicadas that roared in the woods along with the rogue monster.

Well...there was one person.

But the girls didn’t have the mind to notice him.

Percy sat on the back of the pier and smiled, shaking his head.

Maybe someday, they could move on from this strange faze. From skipping around each other, then acting like friends all over again.

Someday.

The sound of the conch horn in the distance brought a reluctant stop to the chirping of the crickets. Dinner time.

He stood up and made his way back, wishing that just maybe, he could be brave enough to tell her how he felt. To unashamedly look at her and no one else as though she were the fading sun, inviting for the naked eye to gape at directly as it caressed the sea and the tree tops while coloring the sky a deep purple. To kiss her in front of all those stupid people and hug her and make her laugh and smile, all golden and beautiful.

Rid himself of the worries, once and for all.

But it couldn’t be.

Maybe, just maybe…

Someday.

[joonie-beanie]

Bean (MC) + sexual relationships with the Demon Brothers

This is an HC no one asked for, but here I am, being thirsty as hell for literally every brother, and funneling that thirst through Bean. Don’t judge me

(This time, in reverse order!...because I can! Also these are kind of messily written but I don’t know how to fix it at this point so forgive plz)

Belphegor:

General Vibe: Lowkey and Playful

Notable Kinks: Choking, edging, overstim, marking

Sex between Bean and Belphie is typically lowkey, and a little playful--depending on the mood.

They may be low-energy buddies, but they’re also both brats, which makes for a dangerous combination.

Most soft (aka lazy) sessions start one of two ways--with Belphie’s mouth on Bean’s neck, or Bean’s hand down Belphie’s pants. 

Belphie is the first of the brothers to discover how sensitive Bean’s neck is. It happens when they’re cuddling, one day, and he leans in to press a kiss to her shoulder. When she shivers, immediately jerking away from the feeling with a high-pitched gasp? Oh, Belphie is relentless.

He holds her against him sternly, not letting her run away, as he assaults her neck and shoulders with his lips, tongue and teeth. (Over time, he absolutely develops a kink for seeing her covered hickies he has given her, and always wears such a little, shit-eating grin if she appears in a hoodie, or anything else that will hide away her upper torso from prying eyes).

He manages to get hard just from hearing her embarrassing sounds (which she is so desperately trying to stifle), and also the fact that every time she wriggles in his arms, her ass grinds against his cock. 

When he’s finally too hard for comfort, he’ll likely take her in either of his two favorite positions. One, with her on her back, and his hand around her throat (she likes being choked, and he likes seeing her lose herself from the lack of blood flow), or two, on her knees, with her chest pressed against the sheets.

Usually, if he’s already pent up, he doesn’t bother edging, or overstimulating her. He’ll just fill Bean with his seed, and flop down onto the sheets, and go back to cuddling her--all blissed out, and tired from the orgasm.

If he feels he can last a while, he’ll likely edge her a few times, just to make her whine, and see if she’ll beg. OR, he’ll make her cum, and then keep going despite how her body is shaking from overstim.

If Bean is the one feeling a little bratty, then she’ll slip her hands beneath the waistband of his pants, and tease him with her fingers. (They both share the role of big spoon, so it’s not strange for her to be able to reach around him, and toy with him like he does her).

Since he never lets her leave without some array of marks littering her neck and shoulders, she makes sure to pay him back--kissing and nipping at his skin until he’s got a few love bites to remember her by.

Bean getting Belphie off with her hand is not very rare. If she’s spooning him, and he’s tired, he has no issue letting her jack him off. However, if he’s not groggy from sleep, he’ll likely turn the tables on her--taking her how he wants, or grabbing her hair and coaxing her head into his lap.

Beel:

General Vibe: Very sweet, or entirely overwhelming (in a good way).

Notable Kinks: Oral, marking, breeding

Bean is honestly a little freaked out by the idea of receiving oral before she meets Beel. She’s embarrassed by the idea of someone camping out between her legs, and it takes a little bit of convincing on Beel’s part before she finally allows him to taste her.

Once he does, he can’t stop, and Bean learns just how pleasurable (and damning) oral sex can be. Because with Beel, once is never good enough. The first time he goes down on her, she has to beg him to stop--her body shaking from overstim, and covered in sweat. She has no idea how long he’s spent with his mouth on her pussy, but it’s at least been an hour, and he still looks so hungry.

Beel is someone very close to her heart, and has helped her learn to love many of her insecurities, so he loves to have soft, caring sex with her. Sex where Bean whispers praises into his skin, and he mirrors her sentiments via soft touches with his hands, and mouth. 

He takes her in a position where he’s guaranteed to face her--where she can cradle his face, and kiss him over and over again as they both fall apart. When she finally cums, she does so while gasping his name, with her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. And when Beel cums, he buries his face in the crook of her neck and bites down on her skin--hard enough to leave marks, but not draw blood. 

She spends her post orgasm bliss tucked into his arms, with her back against his chest, and his lips pressed into her hair. He likes to stay inside of her as long as possible--until he eventually goes soft, and his cum starts leaking out of her.

Of course...sometimes Beel can’t help but be a bit rougher--to crave a little more. He is a demon, after all.

So, when Beel isn’t feeling so soft, he tends to manhandle her. His strength is already known by her--after all, he can carry her with little effort, whereas most humans would struggle to even lift her into a hug--but it never fails to surprise her when he throws her onto the bed, or hikes her up against the wall without batting an eye. (It’s such a turn on).

When Beel’s in a more carnal mood, Bean resigns herself to just being along for the ride. She lets him take her however he wants, as long as he wants. While he has never admitted it, she’s positive he has a bit of a breeding kink, because he loves to go multiple rounds, and makes sure she’s taking as much of his seed as she can. 

When he’s in this state, he tends to leave more marks, as well. Most notably on her thighs, tummy, and chest. 

Once things finally calm down, he’ll make sure she’s alright, and clean her up before holding her for as long as he can.

Oh, also, Bean does reciprocate oral for him. However, Beel is big and her jaw hurts if it’s open too wide, so if she ever starts to ache, Beel is more than happy to use her in other ways instead (Bean honestly feels so lucky that he’s so understanding).

Asmo:

General Vibe: Fun, and uplifting.

Notable Kinks: Edging, overstim, toys, praise kink

Bean is actually more comfortable being dominant with Asmo, than she is subbing.

Asmodeus has a huge praise kink--both giving and receiving, and Bean is more than happy to feed into that--telling him about all his good points while she jacks/sucks him off, or even pegs him.

And, of course, Asmo is more than happy to be submissive to her. She’s not a hard dom by any means, but she can be a bit sadistic (he honestly thinks it stems from her bratty submissive side), and does enjoy edging him, and watching him beg.

It’s actually exciting to Bean to be able to dominate someone and not feel completely self conscious about it. Asmo is really great at reassuring her-- since he’s not afraid to be vocal, or ask for more. It lets Bean know he’s enjoying himself, and helps build her confidence. 

Once Asmo finally gets off, he refuses to let Bean leave without having her own orgasm (even if she assures him she’s okay. He’s the Avatar of Lust--there’s no way in hell he’s not going to return the pleasure she has just given him).

So, when Asmo is trying to repay her actions, he tends to get her off with a vibrating wand (the two absolutely include toys in their play regularly), or with his mouth. Bean gets turned on from fucking him, so she gets off fairly quickly once its her turn.

However, just because Bean dom’s Asmo, doesn’t mean he’s always submissive. Oh no, sometimes, he loves flustering her and taking the reins. (And it really does fluster her. Too much).

While Asmo has a huge praise kink, and soaks up all of her kind words, Bean has no idea how to handle his praise towards her, and usually just turns into a whining mess, begging him to shut up. (Of course, Asmo is pretty relentless, and doesn’t stop until she’s a complete mess from his words).

Sessions with Asmo are usually a fair amount of time, since he really likes to indulge himself in the act, but they don’t unnecessarily drag on. He knows that he and Bean both have other things to get to, and doesn’t feel the need to keep her around him after their love making. No, he makes sure she’s okay, gives her whatever amount of aftercare she needs, and then the two go on their merry way.

Although…there are the rare times where Asmo keeps her there the entire day. While his powers don’t work on her, that doesn’t mean he can’t find a good substitute (aka sometimes, with her consent, they’ll mess around with giving her an aphrodisiac). Whenever Bean takes the aphrodisiac, it’s typically a very intense experience, so they don’t do it often. But when they do? Oh man, Asmo is in love.

Satan:

General Vibe: Unhurried, light-hearted (and sometimes ruining)

Notable Kinks: Pet play, Training

Because Satan is aware of Bean’s writing habits, and has taken to proofing her work for her, the two of them casually speak of sex often, which turns into...well, actual sex between them.

Satan finds it quite cute that despite the smut she writes, Bean doesn’t have a ton of experience to back it up. So, he devotes himself to kindly helping her gain some experience (at least at first).

It starts with oral training--Satan giving Bean pointers on giving head (ya know...so she can write it with a clearer picture/experience in mind). Bean...doesn’t have the best gag reflex, hence the “training”. Satan pretty much takes it upon himself to help her tame her reflex (for the most part--after all, making her gag sometimes is still fun).

Of course...he enjoys this arrangement more than he cares to admit, and he soon breaks down, wanting more. The first time he throws Bean onto his bed and cages her down, all red in the face as he asks if he can have her--oof. She’ll never forget it. And, well, Bean has been a little...pent up, even if she won’t admit it (since blowing Satan actually turns her on a lot), so she’s more than happy to let things progress farther.

Following the broadening of their sexual relationship, Satan takes to, well, training her in other ways. Particularly...through light forms of pet play. So maybe he has a collar and leash, and a cat tailed butt plug. And maybe every time he puts them on/in Bean, it makes her blush so red, and in turn makes him grin so proudly. (He is, after all, the Avatar of Wrath. It’s in his nature to be a little mean).

Their overall play doesn’t get extremely rough. Most of the time, it’s middle ground--rough enough to satisfy them both, without being too intense.

However, sometimes Satan does get a little...feral for lack of a better term. Especially if she’s being a little too bratty, and he’s not in the mood for it. When that happens, Satan gets rough--taking 100% control of the situation. He’ll tease her about how her bratty remarks are nowhere to be found, now that he’s absolutely ruining her.

Once Satan has finally had his fill, though, he’ll be sure to clean her up, and check on her--asking if she’s alright, and bringing her water, and whatever else she may need.

Overall, though, usually sex between the two is very casual, and unhurried. Bean feels comfortable with Satan, especially because they can still talk/banter like normal, even if her mouth is on him, or if he’s inside of her.

Also, Satan won’t admit it, but he’s pretty invested in seeing how else he can train her. His next goal is getting her to cum on command. 

Levi:

General Vibe: needy, intense, competitive

Notable Kinks: DP, oral, thigh fucking

The first time the two have sex, it’s because Levi get’s frustrated over the fact that she’s kicking his ass at Mario Kart. He goes demon form, and Bean attempts to calm him down by pressing her hands to his chest, and kissing him.

It actually makes his brain blue screen for a few seconds, before he’s dragging her over to his tub. He’s hesitant, at first, but with Bean’s reassurance that she’s fine, and that she wants him, he eventually gives into his desires and stops worrying so much. 

And the minute Levi subconsciously begins using his tail to hold her down, or aid in the sex, and realizes that she loves it. Damn. 90% of the time he’s in his demon form when they have sex, because his tail is sensitive and he absolutely will use it on her so long as she permits it.

Sometimes, he only uses it to hold her wrists, or spread her legs, but other times he basically uses it as a second dick and wow, he’s super weak watching Bean fall apart as he fucks two of her holes open.

And Bean, despite her embarrassment, allows herself to be a little vocal for Levi, because it gives him the reassurance that he so desperately needs, and she loves seeing him confident, and using her to seek what he wants.

Levi tends to lose himself, when he’s really having fun. At first, he may be cautious about what he’s doing, but once he really starts feeling good, and realizes that he’s making Bean feel good, he lets his worries go.

And when that happens, he can go for a while. Like, Bean about to pass out but he’s still hard despite having cum in her twice while. However, Levi doesn’t get like that too often. Usually he’s happy with one, good, satisfying round of sex (and so is Bean). But...they both definitely enjoy it when things do get a little more intense.

Also, Bean blowing/jacking off Levi while he’s playing video games is 100% a thing. Most of the time he manages to keep playing, but eventually ends up pausing the game when he’s close to cumming and can’t focus anymore. 

In turn, if the two are playing a game together, and Bean is winning...maybe Levi lets his demon form come forth, and lets his tail wind up her leg. And when the appendage starts groping her, it’s very hard to stay focused.

ALSO, Bean is not big into cosplay, or roleplay, but...she’ll wear a mini skirt and thigh highs for Levi. Asmo buys Bean a maid costume from Akuzon and when Levi sees her in it...and the SQUISHY ANIME GIRL THIGH LINE HE SO DEARLY LOVES...he awakens something within himself.

So yes, upon occasion, when Levi can’t stop staring at her thighs, or if she’s wearing something that draws attention to them, he’ll absolutely just thigh fuck her. It makes him weak.

Mammon:

General Vibe: Teasing, bratty

Notable Kinks: Oral, Anal, Edging 

Mammon is a tsundere but Bean is a brat...and sometimes they don’t mix well.

But, Mammon is the avatar of Greed, and he’s greedy with Bean, and wants the same thing she’s willing to offer his brothers (with her consent, obviously, he’s not an asshole). Luckily, despite their inherent natures, it still works.

And by work, 90% of the time that means “Mammon whines about wanting intimacy, and Bean gives him exactly what he wants, only for him to get flustered by it”. But...she kind of likes seeing him all blushy, and honestly, as long as Mammon is getting his rocks off in the end, he can get over being embarrassed.

Typically, their sessions start one of two ways. 1. Mammon is just craving her affection, and at some point shared hugs and kisses progress into hands under clothes, and breathy moans. Or 2. Mammon sees traces of his brothers “love” on her, and he sits in the corner and pouts about it until a. Bean goes over and coaxes him out of his mood, or b. Mammon takes things into his own hands.

If Mammon is just craving affection, then he’ll likely saddle up next to her, and grumble while wrapping his arms around her. But...his hugs will turn into groping, and his lips will find hers, or sensitive areas of skin to tease. And then he’s grumbling about how she’s his, as their bodies press together--making Bean aware of the fact that he’s definitely hard.

And once he’s hard, and Bean is making little sounds that has him knowing she’s feeling good too, well...Mammon grins and gets to it.

He prefers to take her from behind, because that way he can grab her ass ( and he loves her ass. Like...he’s weak for anal with her. They don’t have it all the time, but sometimes. As a special treat).

The first few times they fuck, Mammon cums before her, and while she reassures him that she’s fine not cumming, Mammon doesn’t want to be one of, if not the only, brother who hasn’t made her cum, so. He steps up his game. Now, he always has them cum together, if not her first.

At least...that’s how it goes when he’s the one being more dominant. Because Bean loves to tease him, especially when he’s already blushy, and flustered. 

During the times where she takes charge, she’ll slip into her bratty nature as she teases him with dirty remarks while taking his cock into her hand, or mouth. And Mammon does his best not to fall apart as she brings him to the edge one, twice, and again, until he’s cursing and begging for her to let him cum already. And she always does--but hey, a girl has to have her fun first right?

Lucifer:

Overall Vibe: Intimate, Sadistic (surprise surprise)

Notable Kinks: Bondage, Spanking, Denial

Once Bean finally gets over emotional constipation, and the two realize they do, indeed, reciprocate each other's feelings, well...sex is kind of enivitable (not that either of them mind).

At first, their sex is very intimate, and needy. Bean is a mixture of embarrassed and excited, whereas Lucifer feels he needs to catch up for lost time--to stake his equal claim to her as his brothers have. He works quickly while reassuring her of his feelings--drowns them both in their pleasure until the cravings they’ve held onto for so long are thoroughly spent.

Then...once things have calmed down, things get a little more...spicy.

Whereas before, Lucifer may have just scolded Bean for making a bratty comment. Well...now he can reprimand her in other ways.

While Lucifer isn’t big on leaving hickies, or bite marks like some of his brothers, he has no issue bending her over the desk in his study, and reddening her ass and thighs (he prefers to use his hand, but if he’s feeling particularly mean, he may pull out the whip he so dearly loves). And for what it’s worth, Bean enjoys it--she wouldn’t be bratty to him otherwise (and, of course, Lucifer wouldn’t spank her to begin with if she wasn’t getting something out of it as well).

Aside from this, Lucifer has taken to using his rope skills on her--but in ways far more enjoyable than he uses on Mammon. Likeeeee...tying her hands behind her back and having her service him while he works. Orrrrr...putting her in a pretty body harness, because he enjoys seeing the way it accentuates her (and he likes seeing rope marks as well). Oh, and you can’t forget tying her down on his bed so he’s truly in 100% control.

One of Lucifer’s favorite things to do is tie her up, and then deny her. Time and time again, until she’s quite literally begging--letting go of her mental restraints in order to plead for her orgasm. Watching her fall apart for him is his delight, and only once he’s satisfied with how helpless she has become, does he allow her to cum.

Of course, sex with Lucifer isn’t always so intense, or sadistic. No, the man is busy, and sometimes Bean just wants to help him unwind. So, she’ll take it upon herself to settle between his legs and get him off with her mouth and hands. Or, she’ll snuggle up to him in bed, and if she feels him getting hard, she’ll just kiss him and ask if he wants her to take the reins for the night (which usually means riding him, while he holds her hips--only helping her out when she gets close and can barely move anymore).

And they both love the soft, intimate sessions as much as they do the ones where Lucifer gets Bean so desperate that tears prick her eyes.

Lucifer is very good about aftercare, though, especially when he’s been quite mean. He’ll clean her up and kiss her hair and bring her water. Oh, and of course she’ll be staying with him for the night--with his arm draped over her waist, or his wings curled around her. (Like she’d even try to leave…)

[ssson-of-sparda]

A Trip To The Beach - Part 1 (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Dante's tab is nearly erased. After Patty finds a letter you wrote to Dante years ago, the girl decides to pay you a visit to know why and how things ended between you and Dante. (Part 4 of A Tab To Erase) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Tags: Pre DMC3 Dante / Dante is Tony Redgrave / Love / Fluff / Blood and Gore / Minor Character Death / Violence

Author’s note: I've decided to divide "A Trip To The Beach" into two parts because it was way too long. The next part will be the end of this story. Thank you for reading and sorry for keeping you waiting.

MISSION 4

Despite the menacing grey clouds fading the picturesque view before her, there was something adorably charming in the house Patty was looking at that should have made the girl feel rather at ease. And yet, she couldn’t move a muscle. Stress probably. Stress, yes. She thought as she glanced again and again at the letter she was firmly holding in her hands.       She repeated the address out loud, checking again for the umpteenth times if she was at the right place and wondering if she should be here.    What if Dante learnt about her being here? What if he learnt about her sneaking into his personal stuff? About her stealing this letter in the drawer of his desk? The one Y/N had written him years ago. The questions popped up in her head one by one as quickly as Dante’s devastating bullets and tied her stomach in a knot. She had never been afraid of Dante. Not really. And she wasn’t sure she was afraid of him right now. Maybe she was simply afraid of hurting him.

“This was a silly idea.” She sighed and finally turned around to leave. Maybe if she hurried up she would be able to catch the next train back to Red Grave before the storm and be home early enough to make Dante a strawberry sundae.

The wind suddenly blew hard, so hard it was gusty enough for the pink ribbon in her blond hair to be blown away. Patty gasped and quickly ran after the long piece of silk trying to catch it back. But it somehow landed right in the flowered garden she hadn’t dared step foot in and Patty couldn’t help but see it as a sign of fate. “Can I help you?” A sign of fate she couldn’t ignore now.

Y/N was as pretty as Patty had imagined, maybe even more. And as she kept on observing her, her little turned-up nose purposely plunged in the tea mug so that she would not have to speak (a premiere in her life), she wondered how and why Dante had let her go (She had jumped to this conclusion when she had read the letter she found at Dante’s in which Y/N was asking him to come back to her). “ Would you like another biscuit, Patty?” The blond girl shook her head nervously. “Or a strawberry sundae maybe?” Patty froze and her blue eyes fixed at Y/N in panic. “If you’re friend with Dante I assume you must have them quite often.” There was no bitterness in her voice, just a motherly sweetness tinted with a bit of sadness.             “ How?”                “ The letter.” She nodded at the envelope sticking out of Patty’s pocket. “How’s Dante?”     “ He doesn’t know I am here!” Patty confessed rapidly as if to exonerate Dante of her presence here. “And he doesn’t know about the letter.”    “That’s alright. Relax.” Y/N smiled, amused, as she put her mug on the coffee table. “I was just asking. Curiosity.” And care also.                   “ Oh … Then I guess he’s … Dante.” The young girl finally said after searching for the perfect word to describe her friend.  “You know eating pizza and strawberry sundae everyday … and sleeping all day long.” Y/N frowned. That was not the image she had kept from her ex-boyfriend at all. A lazy pizza and sundae lover sure but there was something off in Patty’s description. “Oh and losing at gambling which probably led to why I’m here.”            “ What do you mean?” Y/N raised an eyebrow; genuinely curious though amused to know Dante had not improved his gambling skills since the last time they met.       “ Let’s say he owed me so much he started selling pieces of his past to pay me back.” The woman laughed. That sounded like Dante for sure. “He started telling me about you because I asked him why he loved strawberry sundaes so much. And then he kept extorting me and used my curiosity at his advantage.” “ How much did he owe you?” “ Six strawberry sundaes. A dozen ice-cream cones. Two dresses and one trip to the beach. He stills owes me a trip to the beach though.”              “ Of course he does.” Y/N scoffed as she took a sip of her tea.                 “ Fortunately I’m a very patient woman.” Patty declared as she started drooling over her homemade raspberry-filled biscuit.       “ Well, I guess you have to be when you hang out with somehow like him.” Patty’s eyes darted back at Y/N who was now stirring her tea even though she hadn’t put any sugar or milk in it. A defence mechanism, Patty thought.         “ Is that why you two broke up? Because you lost patience?” Patty dared ask even though a part of her had a feeling she shouldn’t.             “ No. No. That’s not because of that.” Y/N admitted. “We broke up because Dante couldn’t help being Dante.”        “ I always tell him his uncouthness drives women away.” Y/N had a sad smile that Patty immediately noticed. “Sure he lacks manners but that’s not why we ended things. We ended things because … I guessed he cared too much for me.”

A TRIP TO THE BEACH - Part 1

She could remember that day as if it was yesterday, every detail of it. From the moment Dante kissed her good morning to the moment he kissed her goodbye. She could remember his smile, warm and beguiling. She could remember his tears, cold and desperate. She could remember everything about him, everything about her.

She was wearing a red summer dress. Dante’s favourite. He used to say it was because of the colour. “You know how much I love red, baby.” But she knew it was because of the way it hugged her figure so beautifully. He could pretend to be a gentleman but he couldn’t fool her. She could tell he was lying just by the way his hands would grab her curves each time she was near him in that dress.

They had parked the car by the beach. An old red convertible he claimed to be vintage when it was just a piece of junk. If he thought any sort of romance would happen in it, he was clearly wrong.

Don’t tell he already had this awful car! Don’t tell me he still has it!

But Y/N wasn’t sure Dante was in the mood for romance or any sort of distraction. He looked preoccupied, very preoccupied, and she knew him all to well to know that this anxiety – or whatever Dante was feeling right now – was nothing good. After all, one could use many adjectives to describe Dante but anxious and preoccupied, no. He was too carefree and devil-may-care for this.

“Something’s wrong.” Y/N said as she looked up at him, her head on his shoulder. Dante sighed. “Nothing.” “That was not a question.” She clarified and watched him leave her embrace to pick a beer in the cool bag they had especially prepared for their picnic at the beach. “Talk to me.” But he didn’t. “It’s better if you know nothing.” She frowned, not enchanted at all to be left in ignorance.                  “Better for whom? Me?” He remained silent again and she felt anger starting to grow in her chest. “Answer me, for god’s sake! It’s been days, Tony! Days since you’ve been acting strangely. Days since Enzo came to visit to tell you god knows what.” Dante’s eyes met hers and he could finally see how furious and sad she truly was. “What? Do you really think I can’t put two and two together? Do you think I’m that stupid?”          “No.”     “Then what’s going on?” Dante opened his mouth but was quickly interrupted by a strange noise coming from Y/N’s purse. It was her pager furiously vibrating and ringing.

Pager? Welcome to the nineties, Patty.

“It’s my parents. -Emergency at the restaurant. Need your help-.” She read and sighed. “I got to go. But this conversation is not over, Tony.”             “ I know and I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just … just give me time to make sure …” But he didn’t finish his sentence. And why would he? The last thing he wanted was for her to worry and telling her ‘Just give me time to make sure you’re going to be okay.’ didn’t sound very reassuring, right? “Make sure of what?”  “ I love you, Y/N. You know that?” He cupped her soft cheek and caressed her delicate skin with his thumb. She nodded. Of course she knew. He didn’t have to say it. But she hated secrets and right now he was too secretive to her taste. Nevertheless, she indulged his desire for a loving kiss when Dante’s lips came to claim hers. “I love you too.”  “ You’re staying at my place tonight?” She nodded. She could never deny him, especially when he was so sweet.

So that’s why you broke up? Because he had secrets? No. Not because he had secrets. Because of something more complicated than that.

The second the bus dropped her off at the stop a few meters away from her parent’s diner, Y/N knew something was wrong. The reddish pink neon sign of the restaurant was not shining like a beacon in the street and inside the lights were all off. Weird for a Friday night.            She walked to the door anyway, holding on tightly to her purse, a worried frown creasing her young face that soon became as pale as milk when she noticed that the door was slightly ajar. She should have called the police or even her boyfriend. Surely that would have been the wise decision but when she heard a loud noise coming from the inside, she instinctively rushed in.

It had come from upstairs, from where her parents lived. Y/N climbed the stairs one by one, quickly but cautiously, with a lamp she had picked on a table in her hand to use as a weapon though she wasn’t sure that would be enough to knock out whoever had broken into the place. She could hear her heart beat loudly in her chest, ready to explode, Thump Thump, and her foot creaking the wooden floor more and more with each steps despite all her attempts at remaining silent. Creak Creak. Creak Creak. Splish Splash.

Y/N suddenly stopped and looked at her feet. Her sandals were wet. Water? But the bathroom was too far away and the liquid felt weirdly warm and way too dense. She squatted down and slowly touched the flooded floor with her fingertips. She shivered at the sensation. This felt weird, slightly sticky even. Oil? No. It wasn’t slimy enough to be oil. It was something else.                 She looked closely, searching for a source of light. Fortunately she didn’t need much to realise that the liquid tinting her skin was dark and … red?

Her eyes widened when she understood she was squatting in a pool of blood. Horrified she tried to get up and run but eventually slipped and squealed when she fell on her butt and the red splashed and drenched her dress and her naked legs.

Her half-eaten biscuit in her hand, her mouth agape, Patty was staring at Y/N, unable to move or to look away. This story was fascinating … scary but fascinating. And Y/N had better storyteller qualities than Dante. He always had the tendency to exaggerate.           “What happened next?” Patty demanded with an over-excitement she knew was certainly inappropriate. “Next …” The doorbell rang loudly and Patty jumped and squealed. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened when the bell rang again, this time almost furiously. “I guess we have an impatient visitor.”         Needless to say, Patty exactly knew who that was. “Oh no.”  “Don’t worry. I’m sure a nice strawberry sundae will calm him down.” Y/N smiled and got up to welcome the person impatiently waiting under the porch.

[bvccy]

Tenderness and Ferocity | 5. The Fourth Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Smut, and Dubcon (our boy receiving) Word count: 4171 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"Man only plays when in the full meaning of the word he is a man, and he is only completely a man when he plays."

— Friedrich Schiller

He stepped in the room the next day and she was waiting for him, as always, sitting down quietly. There were no machines on the table, only some papers… and a plate of plums. She smiled at him as he came in, and saw him smiling back this time.

"Come in. Close the door. We won't share any with them." she jokingly whispered referring to the guardsmen outside. He obeyed and went to take his seat.

"How are you today? Are you well?"

The Soldier nodded without thinking.

"Help yourself to them, by the way." she said, pointing to the plate. The GSR had shown her how much he liked them. "They're not easy to come by around here, better make the most of it."

Now that he had permission, he took a slice and relished the feeling of actually enjoying something he ate. It was a new experience with, yet, an old familiar reaction.

"Today's session is going to be as short or as long as you want it to be. I just want you to do one thing: write on this paper ten sentences…" and she slipped before him a page and a pen, his attention still on the plums, "beginning with the words 'I am'."

His eyes snapped up to her. Seeing that she was serious with her simple but impossible request, he grabbed the pen and stared at the page. He immediately felt like a dumb ox; what was he supposed to write?

"I won't watch, if you want. I'll just stand over there, and you can call me over when you're ready. Alright?" She was smiling and being friendly, but that didn't stop him from feeling tricked somehow. It was, oddly enough, a familiar feeling — that of a schoolboy caught unprepared for a test.

She stood up and went to stand by the door, leaning against the wall while she looked outside through the slot that let in the light from the hallway.

'I am' — what, exactly?

The first thing that came to his mind, of course, was that he was a soldier. He was a man too, but both options felt stupid somehow, vapid. He was also alive, but was that the sort of thing she expected? Was it that simple? Was it a trick?

He barely touched pen to page before lifting it again, dissatisfied and angry. After a few minutes, hearing him grunt and shuffle, her attention went back to him.

"Done already?" She knew he wasn't but walked back anyway, and pretended not to notice how he tried to sink his bulk in the bare wooden chair and hide behind the empty air. "Really, nothing at all?" she asked as she stopped beside him. "Surely you can think of something…" She sounded more teasing than frustrated in her chastisement, but he still avoided her eyes. He heard her sit back down and felt her amused stare burn into his cheek.

"Well, what are you?" she started, pretending to think. "You are a man, right?"

He nodded.

"And — You can write any kind of sentence, such as… You are in a room, yes?"

Nod.

"And you're such and such feet tall. You're sitting down. You are awake. You are dressed. You are writing. You are thinking. You are young… or, are you old? What do you think?"

He finally looked back up at her, in innocent confusion.

"We don't have to decide on that, then. How about… Are you happy?" she tried.

He still hadn't written anything, and seemed even more uncomfortable with himself.

"Too much, I guess…" She got up to walk closer and rested her thighs against the table's edge. "Well, you're healthy. Right?"

Nod.

"And strong. And handsome…"

He looked up slowly at that and found her looking down at him, gently but with focus.

"Did you know that you're handsome?"

"That's eleven sentences."

"Oh… Is it?"

She hesitated for a couple of heartbeats, thinking, then decided. What would a man do?

Slowly, she slipped her knees between his spread thighs, gripped the back of his chair with her hands, and leaned ever-so-slightly in. To the side of her, she heard the pen clatter on the table as it slid from his limp fingers and he leaned back. Away from her? Oh. No matter.

Her right hand, hot and soft, came down to caress the side of his face, and she bit her lip tightly to keep a too-excited smile from breaking out. His eyes looked straight up into hers and his lips parted on their own when she tilted her head on the way to kissing him, but with an involuntary impulse he leaned back further against the chair.

"I can't." he said — half-chocked, half-conviction.

"It's alright, I… I won't…" she started, taken aback by how definitive his rejection was.

"It's not that. I can't…"

"What do you mean 'you can't'?"

"I can't touch you."

She finally leaned away from him, if only a little. "…Who said that?"

His fists clenched impotently, one on his knee the other still on the table, and finally he admitted: "The Director."

She backed up further to look at him and think about what that meant. In the back of her mind, she was relieved that his rejection didn't actually come from any revulsion to her, but only to disobeying orders. "Why would the Director tell you not to touch me?"

He was sat down quietly as ever, but never had a man looked more desperate to run away.

"Soldier." she called a bit more firmly. "Why would the Director say that?"

"He c— saw me…" he confessed.

She let him simmer in his guilt while she considered the implications, which were altogether too delicious and threatened to run away with her. Keeping her voice calm, she dug further. "What did he see you do?"

The Soldier only huffed and swallowed his words, bracing his feet against the floor, looking down to the ground, fighting with himself like a half-domesticated beast. When he didn't answer quickly enough, she dipped down, perching on her high heels, and leaned with her hands against his knees to look up searchingly into his eyes.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to" That's a lie. "but you know I'm not like him. I won't get angry with you, or disgusted…" and she watched his face carefully for the twitch of the muscles that predictably came at the corner of his mouth. There was an admission there, but also curiosity. "You can say anything." she soothed, rubbing his knee comfortingly. "How bad can it be…?"

Very.

"Come on, tell me… What happened?"

Thread by tenuous thread, he allowed her to unravel that which held his chest in a tight grip. "I was dreaming. About you."

She looked at him in a sly, satisfied way, having finally caught him in the lie she'd long since suspected; but now she didn't have the heart to reproach him. The fact that he had dreamed of her only added a personal satisfaction on top of the professional one. He's recovering more quickly than he let on. Not only dreams, but lies too.

"And what were you doing in your dream?"

He shifted and, instead of counting the cracks in the concrete, moved his attention to his left, to a dark corner, ever further from her eyes. She knew what it was, otherwise she wouldn't have asked, and he partly hated her for it. For how close she was when she asked him that. For how she rubbed his knee in a way that made him throb.

"It wasn't… I wasn't myself in my dream."

"How do you mean?"

"I wasn't there at all, like I didn't exist. There was this other this man, he didn't look like me, or sound like me, or think like me — I don't know how I know what he thought. I guess I was him, but I wasn't."

"I see... And how did the Director find out what you were dreaming about?"

A certain part of him wanted to kick her off him and choke her and break her neck for making him feel that way, for making him a coward in front of her — her of all people. But another part, more in control and much more encompassing, knew he couldn't stand to see her so much as afraid. It was a strange feeling, to want to kill someone — to want it, not just be ordered to — but also want to protect her from anything and everything in the world and see her alive and happy and just see her, every day.

So he took a deep breath and willed his eyes back to hers, waiting wishfully before and beneath him, and sucked in one good long look to work up the nerve to barely admit: "He saw me… How I was… because of you." The Soldier shifted, wanting her hot little hands off his knees but she held on and pressed forward.

"How could he see you?"

"Through the cameras. He came in soon after." He remembered clearly the supercilious sneer, the lazy gait, the direct command, and his own shame and fear and anger. "Ordered me not to touch you, not to tell you about my dreams."

"When was this?"

"The… the first morning." and he didn't need to explain which day or how many ago.

"Was it a nice dream, at least?" she dared to ask.

"Not exactly."

That knocked a bit of her glee off, until she noticed the leer of longing in his eyes.

Without giving herself the chance for one more treasonous thought, she raised herself back up. To the Soldier's surprise, her hands went straight to his belt and started tugging, unclasping, clumsily pulling it out like a dead snake.

"What—"

"The Director might have said you can't touch, but he never said anything like that to me. Arms behind your back."

He had enough wherewithal to realise what she was asking for wasn't exactly respecting the spirit of the order, but he also had enough sense to not argue. So the Soldier put his arms back behind the seat, and allowed her to tie his wrists together with the thick black belt — a useless effort as he could probably break it off if he tried.

After she finished a few thorough loops and knots, her hand lingered on him, then up his metal arm, his shoulder, his neck, threading through his tousled hair before finally cupping his cheek in a touch so small and warm and timid as to be completely unfamiliar. And he saw in her eyes the same surprise he felt, as if discovering a new world that could only bridged through another.

She turned and sat sideways across his lap, her other hand holding onto the back of the chair, her feet dangling a few inches off the ground. He brought his knees in a bit closer to make a comfier seat — he could hardly feel the weight of her, but at the same time that delicious little pressure was all his body knew.

She took her time settling in, working up the courage, thinking, fearing… and he felt ready to just break out of the belt-binds and pull her closer and crush her against him, but she finally got the nerve, and leaned in, and with her eyes never leaving his placed one chaste kiss against his mouth.

The Soldier stayed still, suspended in tension against the chair, against her hopeful gaze, against the welcoming scent of her cheek — and inwardly, worst of all, felt a forgotten part of himself brace for impact like an anchor sinking fathom after slick fathom in soft ink.

She closed her eyes when she went to savour his lower lip, then his scruffy chin, the sunken cheek, the hard outline of his cheekbone… He opened his mouth hungrily and leaned in to chase after her but she kept her kisses punishingly pure — as if he was nothing better than a love letter or a child's bruised knee or a venerable family cat.

When her kisses reached his throat he could — finally — bury his face in her hair at least, and breathe her in to burn from inside his lungs out through his whole body, and stay there forever. She must have found that flesh particularly satisfying; she parted her lips and opened her mouth and bit, just gently, across his skin, then lapped over the damp muscle that arched in tension there and thrummed with his moans.

Slowly, she allowed herself to feel him, strength leaving her arms as more of her soft chest leaned into his, rubbing the black t-shirt against his feverish skin and his heart nearly leapt out to join hers. He could feel her cant her hips on his thighs as her wet kisses moved from one rough jaw, to the other, then down his neck where wet heat pooled, lapping, lapping against his muted groans.

She leaned back to look at him, blushing and dizzy, and offered up her mouth with a teasing smile. He dipped to take it, but she just pulled back — once, twice, then a terrible third. "I thought you weren't supposed to touch me." she cooed against his starving lips. "Naughty, naughty boy."

An uncharacteristically pitiful sound ground past his teeth as she got off his lap and balanced herself between his eagerly widening thighs. He didn't even have time to shift in his pulsing discomfort before she crouched back down, legs held primly tight in her skirt, and started shoving his t-shirt up.

By this point, he didn't dare think about what she wanted from him anymore, so he decided not to think at all and let his head lean drunkenly back.

She could only roll it up so much before his thick bound arms stopped it, but it gave her enough to admire under the dismal light. He could feel the trembling in her fingers as she traced his chest, his ribs, his tensing abdomen, and suddenly his legs were bracing against the floor again.

Her elbows rested on his thighs as her fingers caressed their way downward until they reached, just gently tip-teasing, the edge of his trousers, but didn't pull them down nor move closer to where he was aching. Her lips left kisses on his damp stomach, what was left of her lipstick smudging blood-red wherever she found a particularly admirable divot to sink into. She didn't even bother to look up at him, nor did she lavish his body with any particular aim — she seemed content to just kiss what she found for kissing's-sake, healing one imaginary wound at a time with the complete abandon of someone who found life worth living only in a singular beloved.

Those ticklish explorations and her torturous hands were scraping at the edge of his restraint and soon he could barely keep himself from pulling at the knots around his wrists — tensing before remembering to sit still, then pulling again, one arm trembling the other changing calibration with a mind of its own. The chair too was scraping against the naked concrete in his longing to get away, to get closer, to get more of her, and the sound could barely cover the traitorous echoing of his moans.

His hips tried in vain to reach, at least a little bit, any part of her body, thrusting up into the infinite indifferent air between them, but all he managed was to rub himself again his tightening pants, and even that was just about enough, but not nearly.

"I need…" He couldn't finish begging because he didn't know how, wasn't supposed to know how, but it still seeped through every sound he made.

With her mouth still suckling on a shapely curve of muscle at his waist, she looked up, and her little claws sunk into his thighs at the sight of him: heaving, dishevelled, completely at her mercy. Those large grey eyes, now glassy and pleading, searched her face from behind the tendrils of his hair that fell to frame the marble-pale angles of his face — that face which used to be so stoic, so frightfully empty, now chipped away by a patter of kisses to reveal underneath a peachy-soft and blushing boy, who was forced to grow too fast.

She raised herself off him, suddenly abashed and pitying, and his heart stuttered with the panic that she was leaving… but she stayed right there. Within the bulky frame of his legs, she balanced herself on one high heel and kneeled with the other on the small space left on the chair between them. Her hands caressed his heavy head, brushed his hair away, and she rested her lips above his brow in a silent and continuous kiss.

He was so warm, she could feel it through his clothes, could almost feel the throbbing and churning of his desire in time with his whimpers as he took what little she offered and rubbed himself gratefully, desperately against her small, hard knee. His head fell forward suddenly as his whole body curled in on itself in her embrace and with one, two, three painful pulsations, finally released.

She kept kissing and cooing against his overheated skin as he worked himself through it, biting his lip through heaving gasps, burying his groans in her chest, and she realised in passing that that was the loudest she had ever heard him be. Even after the energy was drained from him and he calmed down, she could still feel aftershocks of his pleasure tremble against her leg as a little more and more was pushed out of him, seemingly never ending, until it did.

His breath ran hot and cold as it fanned over her skin, through her shirt, while he slowly came back to himself. She didn't move away, content to hold him close as long as he needed. Her fingers soothed his forehead while her chin rested on top of his head, her eyes far away in the quiet. Her heart was still drumming away and he didn't even need to strain himself to hear it while he felt his own, beating to match her rhythm, and then slowly come down, together.

"Are you alright, my darling?" she asked in an easy voice that masked her concern. He didn't say anything, just buried his face deeper in her shoulder and hummed contentedly.

She could feel the cloying dampness between her own legs collect and start to cool. Her lower lips ached as if beaten and were still throbbing. The virile scent of him beneath her didn't help at all, but it didn't matter anymore either. She had only wanted to cherish him, even at the dreadful prospect of his indifference — which, as a gift, turned out not to be so; to give and give and give to the point of nonexistence until all that was left of her was the spark that burned for him, for as long as he needed it.

She dedicated so much of her energies to the mission, to the work, to the distant goals of glory that Hydra promised, and she once thought that to leave behind useful things was her chance at true freedom from the mundane materialism that had sickened her into this exile in the first place. But within the unexpected package of one kidnapped and brainwashed soldier, imprisoned to a degree he didn't even comprehend, she found a gate to something so much better — one small form of immortality through immolation.

Her attention went to back to his arms, still tied behind him, and the way that left shoulder gleamed in the low sepulchral light caught her eye. One hand went to caress its silver surface until she caught sight of the clandestine mark they put on him. "I hate that ugly thing." she spoke with genuine disgust, her nails catching against the symbol there. "Wish I could scratch away this red satanic star."

The Soldier couldn't tell if it was some possessiveness of hers talking or just the Hydra zealot, jealous of a competing cult, but he felt too weary to hold those walls up anymore, and too serene in her arms to care.

She moved away from him, gently letting go, stumbling a little in her stiff ankles and straightening her skirt on her way around. She undid the knots and rubbed a little at the wrist that bore its marks. After a parting kiss to the bent back of his neck, she dropped the belt on his lap. "Let's get you cleaned up." she whispered.

He heard her fumbling with something, and then there was a quick run of water at the sink in the corner. The Soldier had just barely straightened himself in the chair when she came back around and started wiping down his chest with a slightly damp handkerchief. He looked down at her and she looked back, slightly blushing the lower she went, until she reached his trousers and paused.

With an awkward smile, she handed him a batch of tissues and hurried back to the sink.

He had to smile too, almost laughing at the odd standards of her shyness. He unbuttoned himself and wiped off the gooey seepage, wincing and going gently as the cool air hit the raw parts of him. His pants were still quite soiled on the inside, and his t-shirt was damp but drying; it would have to do.

It didn't take long for him to straighten himself out, to put his shirt and his belt and everything back together while she got rid of the evidence, and when she turned back to look at him it was almost as if nothing had happened. He stood up and turned to find her walking straight toward him, just like that first day. Only this time she was smiling, her steps were gentled by the aches and stiffness, and it wasn't just the Soldier she was looking at, but also someone… else.

His feet stood firm while he waited for her, but as soon as she was within reach he curled a hand around her hip and leaned down — only for her to press against his broad chest and pull away.

"We have to leave soon, or they'll come looking for us." The Soldier swallowed his complaints and nodded in understanding. Of course it was too much to ask… And then the killing blow: "I can't see you tomorrow."

"What. Why not?"

"We have a staff briefing all morning, and then I'll have to write a report on your progress, and I have to make something up about this session, and I'll be busy with meetings the rest of the day…"

She was holding something back. His eyes stayed on her body and he rediscovered how small she was beneath him, so steady but so close to wavering. He held her still by the hip, pressing into the fragile skin of her abdomen while his other hand went up to grip the base of her neck. To anyone else it would have been a threat, but she drank in his rough touch with calm. His thumb edged the neckline of her shirt away to reveal brand new skin stretching over birdlike bones.

Her eyes stayed on his, her smile ever-tender as she looked up into his troubled face, completely trusting in his murderer's-hands. The Soldier bent down to kiss the curve of a clavicle as he held her firmly in his arms and asked, again, "Why can't you see me?"

He let her battle with her conscience as he moved his hands down her sides, one hot one metal-cold, gently down and up her thighs, gallantly avoiding the curves of her behind to rest at the small of her back as he let himself fall from underneath her hands and go down on one knee in front of her.

"I'll see you again. Maybe… maybe next week…"

He could hear the breath tense out of her body as he brought his face dangerously close to her, but instead of aiming for the source of that sweet warm scent, he rested his lips right over her lower stomach, kissing now this way, now that, through her clothes and her skin, wanting her to know exactly where he wished he could reach, and take root.

A pair of hands came to rest on his head and caress the hair out of his face, then quietly and shakily she confided "They're considering you for a new mission."

He hummed against her, listening but uncaring.

"Maybe I can try to see you before you're sent off." she said pensively as her hands slipped to his shoulders. "Yes, I can stop by and say… maybe even get an approval…"

Don't trust this devious Hydra bitch!

Would you shut up for once?

[bnhablessings]

Can I request a oneshot/headcanon for Hawks x pregnant fem!reader? I was thinking of Hawks being super cute taking care of her and showing her off proudly to other hero's. this is my first time making a request, so feel free to do with this as you please lolz! also I really want the end to have reader going into labor and giving birth at the end with a very proud Hawks at her side (you get to choose the gender!)💖

It took me so long to get to this omg but I did and I hope you like it, Hon! It is past midnight and I have a weird obsession with tomatoes right now.

Warnings: Pregnancy, just a fluff overload, Profanity, All Might is retired, Dabi and Hawks are good friends AU (we ignore the manga, only happy feelings here lmao)

*I have fixed grammar issues. My brain power was not activated when writing this lol.

Words: 2438

Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Female Reader

“Isn’t she just amazing?” Hawks questions not really speaking to anyone else as he just admires the woman waddling down the hallway.

The other Pro Heroes around him stare at him with confusion. Aizawa, Yamada, Yagi, and Todoroki Enji all take a glance at each other before they wait for the woman to make her way to them. All of them but Hawks are profoundly confused.

“Uh… This was supposed to be a parent-teacher conference so may I ask why Hawks is here as well?” All Might asks.

Hawks ignores them as he watches the woman stopping for a moment to speak to a student. She looks genuinely concerned and it makes his foolish heart swell from how caring she is. Endeavor wants to slap the foolish look off Hawks face but ignores it to answer All Might.

“I apologize. We had lunch together before this meeting. He decided to follow me but I have no idea why.” The tone to Endeavor’s voice shows that he is irritated but curious as to why the number 2 hero seems to be enamored with a simple U.A teacher.

She hasn’t noticed him yet thankfully and he has proudly gotten a video of her waddling. The closer to she gets the more the expression on her face slowly turns into one of realization. The students at U.A respect and care for her so they always make room for her.

“Hey, Honey, what are you doing here?”  You ask softly as you place a hand on your very large bump.

He goes to respond when your colleague Present Mic starts to let out an inhuman sound that turns into a surprised scream. “What?! Honey?! (NAME) YOU’RE MARRIED TO THE HAWKS?!” Present Mic screeches.

You ignore the change in volume and laugh as you nod your head. Aizawa seems to nod as he pieces it together. “Ah… You did mention Tokoyami’s internship being close with your husband.”

“BUT WAIT! You’re married? All my attempts on wooing you have been in vain,” Present Mic mumbles.

Everyone seems to freeze at this but you just laugh more. “Yamada, have you not noticed my ring? I’ve been wearing it every day since working here!” You manage to say after laughing.

He has absolutely no reply but to slowly put his hands up to show surrender from Hawks’ glare on him. Without a care, Hawks pulls you to him so he can hug you with your baby bump blocking it fully. His hands go to rest upon it and he smiles widely.

“See! I told you I have a beautiful family too, Endeavor.”

Endeavor for once has to hide the smile on his face as he looks away. He replies, “Yeah. I thought you were speaking nonsense or showing me pictures of random pregnant women.”

“Nope! I can guess why you would be confused… Since I never showed her face. We have a little chickadee coming on the way!” The excitement is clear in his voice and on his face from the happy lazy grin plastered on it.

He looks at the others and bids them goodbye. “Well, I am going to steal her so she can have her lunch with me. See ya.”

~*~

“Baby, I promise, it is okay! I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later when you get home! I’m just happy you visited for lunch,” You say into the phone. Your other hand goes to your purse to look for your keys.

You hear Hawks mumble and whine on the other side of the phone but you ignore it until you find the keys successfully. “Alright, babe. I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I reach the house. I love you!”

After hearing his ‘I love you more’ he hangs up and you smile feeling great. This is unusual since the pregnancy hormones have made you feel like shit lately. It’s all going to be worth it though.

“Hey, do you need me to walk you home?” Aizawa questions as he enters the hall.

You think for a few seconds before you ask, “Would you be willing to walk me to the station? I’ll be fine from there since I’m planning on stopping by a store! I don’t want to waste too much of your time!”

He nods and the two of you begin the walk to the station. It starts as a comfortable silence before Aizawa speaks up with a smile on his face. “You know, I had no idea you were married to the Number 2 Pro Hero. It surprised me but at the same, it didn’t. What surprised me though was seeing the way he stared at you. You have a good thing going,” Aizawa states.

It was odd for him to give his input like that but it made you feel happy to know that Hawks’ love for you was just that noticeable. Once at the station, Aizawa gives you a look, something an older brother would a younger sibling or parent would their child before giving a demand.

“Call me if anything happens. I’m on patrol for a while so I’ll be near this area. Be safe going home, (Name).”

Today has been such a heartwarming day and Aizawa’s words only bring you more joy as you bid him a farewell.

It doesn’t take long to reach the store close to your home. You salivate at the thought of getting what you crave most. An odd combination that most people would puke from but what you need to satisfy you and your baby right now, tomatoes and frosting.

You can just imagine Hawks’ disgusted look but it wasn’t the worst thing you’ve had yet. You go to turn when your baby bump hits something off the shelf. Thankfully, it was just another plastic can full of icing so it didn’t break. Now the new problem was picking up the jar.

You know it was a near-impossible feat but you try anyway. You probably look very silly trying to reach and barely scraping the can with your fingernails but you don’t care. You are determined to do it. That is until you hear an obvious cough trying to get your attention.

You give up for now and look at the owner only to smile upon seeing the man you saw earlier. “Hello, Mr. Endeavor! We’ve met officially earlier but not formally. I am Takami (Name). It’s a pleasure to meet you and I apologize if my husband gets a bit too much to handle. He can be very chillaxed but he does take his job seriously,” You ramble.

“Pleasure.”

He merely observes you with serious eyes before he bends down and picks up the icing jar. He hands it to you. “Thank you! I would’ve been in a pickle there if I couldn’t reach it,” You murmur placing it back on the shelf where it belongs.

One of his eyebrows betray his lack of expression to show his slight confusion and you laugh. “I already have my icing in this arm! The baby bump knocked over that one.”

He doesn’t say anything in reply to that. Instead, he seems to contemplate saying something. He just needs a few seconds before he decides to say it against his better judgment.

“Hawks... He’s the Number 2 Pro Hero and extremely famous. How is it I never even heard or seen you? I thought he was fibbing about having a wife since he only produced photos of your bump and not of your actual face,” He didn’t want to ask it but the curiosity got the best of him and it was unusual to him.

The question made you smile but this time with a bit of sadness. You’ve received this question just a few times before but the answer remains the same. “We try to hide our relationship and it is easy when his fans like to think he is single. It doesn’t matter but we have private social medias for our friends. We like to keep my face hidden and such.”

The atmosphere turned a bit tense and for once (actually probably like the fifth time since Hawks had been determined in making him a better Number 1 Hero) he feels guilty. Something strange feels like it’s churning in his chest and he quickly fixes it.

“He does talk an awful lot about you though. It’s clear as day how much he loves you and your baby.” It was a simple two-sentences but it brought comfort to you.

He leaves without any more words and you are brought back to your cheerful self and go to pay for the items. By the time you get home, it is already showing signs of getting dark. You are quick to send a text to Hawks and it distracts you from realizing something odd is wrong with your door. The fact that it is unlocked.

You lock your front door once inside and go straight to the kitchen to slice the tomatoes and spread icing on them. You waste absolutely no time as you have it all ready on a plate and leave the room to go change into something more comfortable.

Of course, only Hawks’ shirts have been fitting you lately and you prefer them much more than your maternity clothing. So you wear that and a pair of shorts before coming to get your treat and hopefully take a nap. That was the plan before you have a fucking heart attack from seeing a burnt toast eating your food.

“How the fuck do you eat this?” Dabi questions spitting a tomato slice out of his mouth.

Your heart is absolutely broken at the scene. You ignore the bully of a man and stare at the red and white mess on the ground. How dare he do this to you?

“Oh fuck… (Name), please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I’ll go buy you a new fucking tomato if you want. With the fucking confetti icing and shit. Just don’t cry… Or tell Hawks,” Dabi says.

It is too late though. The damage has been done as your hormones go berserk from seeing what you craved on the ground (yes your mind is ignoring the perfectly good slices still on the plate). Tears prick at your eyes and before you can rub them away or cry, Dabi brings you into a hug.

As you cry into his chest he is already on the phone with Hawks but with your uncontrollable sobs, you don’t hear the conversation. After a few painful minutes (for Dabi) he finally pulls away only for your face to be smothered by your loving husband’s chest.

He hushes you gently and rubs soothing circles on your back all while glaring at his best friend.

Dabi raises his hand in defense. “Hey man, I just came here to visit the princess with good intentions. Thanks for bringing the tomato. I owe you one.”

Another minute later Dabi presents to you a brand new plate with a tomato covered in icing. You sniffle lightly and take it before mumbling, “Thanks. Sorry for the way I acted. That was pathetic.”

“Hey no, it wasn’t Doll. I take full blame for eating your weird food. That and it is 100% Hawks’ fault for knocking you up Beautiful. Anyway, I got to bounce but are we good?” Dabi asks opening his arms for another hug.

You smile and give in. “We’re always good. Now get out of here. We’ll invite you over for a chicken wing dinner,” You offer.

He leaves with a stupid smile on his face and Hawks smiles as he can finally full-on cuddle you without interruptions. Of course, after you are done eating. He pulls you to cuddle on the couch with him, his wings stretched out and resting against the couch.

“You good, Babe?”

You nod the exhaustion pouring in on your face, “Yeah. Sorry I ended up making you come home early. I didn’t mean to get like that.”

“It’s all good. I would do anything for you and the baby. No tomato is safe from being devoured by you if that is what you desire.”

You are too tired to even give a response to that. Instead, you try and curl up into him as you make sure your bump is comfortable at the same time. His hands rest on your belly as he hums into your ear.

“What only two months left now?”

Yeah, and they are going to fly right by.

~*~

“You had to come in through the window?” Hawks asks in a hushed voice.

Dabi only smirks before his eyes fall on your resting figure. Hawks is sitting right beside you on the bed. The sweet bundle of joy he came to meet is resting in Hawks’ arms right beside you.

“Can’t impress anyone if I didn’t. All the Heroes come by already?” Dabi asks as he takes slow and steady steps to the three of you.

You smile weakly as you recall your three colleagues coming in to check on you and meet the baby (that Hawks may or may not have shoved in their face from how proud he was). Endeavor came by as well to congratulate you and Hawks.

“Yeah. All there is left now is to meet you,” You murmur as Hawks stands up.

Dabi gets a close look at the baby’s squishy face. He wants to say it’s hideous as a joke (he was planning on how to do joke about it though) but he couldn’t. The baby was actually cute. However, to his absolute horror, Hawks starts to proceed to give the baby to him.

“What the fuck. What if I drop it?”

You answer in a sleepy voice. “Drop her and I will personally send you to hell.”

“Her… What name did you guys come up with?”

Hawks answers without hesitation. “Tomato.”

Dabi physically freezes and looks up before seeing the stupid grin on Hawks’ face. He turns to you and you smile a gentle smile and give up the true answer. “Takara, it means treasure. Takami Takara.”

“I’ll take the chair. I’ll hold her while you guys rest up for a bit.”

You thank him and Hawks silently thanks him before showing off his severely bruised hand that you no doubt, destroyed when pushing during labor.

It is a pain Hawks would gladly go over again and endure for you because you are everything to him. You and your beautiful daughter mean the world to him and he would go through this life a million times if it meant having the two of you again.

[husbandograveyard]

Henlo all! This is my contribution to @burnthoneymint​‘s birthday challenge! I hope you will enjoy it! Thank you Sil for hosting this wonderful event, and a very early happy birthday to you <3 

Prompt:  Prompt: Person A gets injured on their birthday so they have to stay in, Person B tries to cheer Person A up.

I took some liberties with the prompt but the main idea of it is still there! I hope you don’t mind love  (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) 2nd person. Fem Reader. Mentions of injuries. Other than that, fluff! 

Ace was a ball of youthful energy. Always up for new adventures, always up for fun times. So when you had announced you maybe wanted to do something for your birthday this year, he had gotten to overenthusiastically planning out a bunch of unrealistic concepts. Multiple times you had to step on the break for him and remind him that: a, you were on a ship in the middle of the ocean, b, you would not be stopping for supplies anytime soon and c, that you still would have chores and such to do.

Ace pouted a little at the way you managed to block off all his huge party ideas, but had to admit that you were right about it all. You were snuggling in bed when you told him what you would appreciate most:

“What if we swap chores with someone so we have a day to ourselves? Maybe we can convince Thatch to make me a special birthday meal and y’know… just hang out? It has been a while since we’ve had some time for just the two of us.”

Ace let out a hum in response. Sure, you had a point, and sure, it sounded like a great plan, but was this really how you wanted to spend your birthday? It was nothing more special than any other day off, save for the special meal that he wasn’t even sure Thatch would have the time for. He looked at you as you turned around in his arms, your eyes bright with the expectation for him to agree with your (simple) plan. He simply couldn’t resist those puppy eyes and nodded, dipping down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sure, if that’s really what you want y/n” “Yes Ace, it’ll be perfect.”

Your last words were muffled a little as you nuzzled into his chest more, enjoying his warmth now that it was slowly getting colder outside. Already looking forward to a minimalistic birthday celebration, it did not take you long to fall asleep.

Of course, Ace followed suit, his talent to be able to sleep anywhere even when he didn’t get a narcoleptic spell kicking really fast with you snuggled up to him. But not before formulating a little plan in his head. If you didn’t want a big celebration, he’d accept your wishes, but he couldn’t help but try his best to make it a little more special than you had hoped for.

----

The days leading up to your birthday he assured you that he would take care of the meal and the choresswap, even taking over other people’s chores so yours wouldn’t be switched but taken over altogether. You were a little suspicious at his eagerness to arrange all the things for you, but you let him take care of it all without saying too much about it, you figured he was a little sad he couldn’t make his big plans come true and was now trying to compensate by fulfilling your smaller wishes as much as possible.

You watched as he haggled chores with fellow crewmates and even other commanders. You noticed how he spent quite a lot of time in the kitchen, trying to convince Thatch to spend a little extra time on something for you, just to make your day perfect. It was not clear if he had succeeded in his mission when the night before your birthday came up, but when he joined you in your shared bed, he had a slightly mysterious and satisfied-looking smile on his face.  You decided against interrogating him, enjoying some cuddles and already feeling giddy about having a day for just the two of you when waking up. It would be perfect!

The start of the day was in fact, perfect! Ace had gently woken you up with some breakfast in bed, singing some kind of happy birthday tune completely off pitch with a slight rasp in his voice, he had woken up a little early just to make sure his preparations were all done, and hadn’t spoken yet. You giggled at the whole thing, his morning voice was attractive, the breakfast delicious and the singing hilarious.

After you got dressed and ready for the day, Ace announced that he had one surprise for you. Your eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion.

“That wasn’t the deal Ace!” “Ssshhhhhhh, it’s your birthday, you deserve some special things! Don’t worry, it’s nothing too elaborate, I promise. ”

You sighed and followed him along the deck, only to end in a familar place: the back deck where his striker was. “Look, there will be something special happening nearby, so I figured we’d go on a tiny ride. It’s still following your plan of quality time, and we will be back in time to chill and enjoy your special birthday meal. ”

He seemed so enthusiastic, so full of hope, that even if you wanted to act a little mad for him not following your agreement, you couldn’t stop the corners of your lips from turning upward. “Fine, I’ll indulge you on your little surprised joyride. But only because that means I can hold you close for a little more.”

A slight blush tinted Ace’s freckled cheeks as he smiled widely, a triumphant ‘Yessss’ leaving his lips. He readied the striker for the ride, helping you get on as well. You wrapped your arms tightly around his upper body and got ready for the ride, you knew how reckless he got when he was enthusiastic.

Ace was indeed a little reckless in his steering, but never dangerous, not even when you neared a part closer to an island, the water shallow enough to have all kinds of rocks sticking out of it. He carefully maneuvered in between some of them, before stopping in front of one that was large enough for the both of you to sit on. He helped you up, and joined on the spot next to you in silence, and once you both were settled you looked at him with a questioning look.

“This is nice but wh-” “Oh! The show has already started!”

Ace pointed to a point a little further from you, and you saw something you hadn’t noticed before in your fear of him hitting one of the rocks. You had been too focussed on the potential hazard as well as the island nearing that you hadn’t noticed a huge school of dolphins, all rapidly swimming and leaping out of the water, almost as if to put on a performance for the two of you. Your mouth fell open in a surprised o-shape.

“They are always here apparently, I heard about it when we were on the previous island but didn’t think we’d get close enough in time. It was Marco’s idea to take the striker.”

You smiled.

“It’s a wonderful surprise, thank you Ace..” you turned to him to give him a proper kiss to thank him, when you noticed his eyes glazing over.

Shit. Not now.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen the subtle change that indicated that he was about to pass out, but you were too late calling out his name so he could prepare, and he slumped forward. You reacted on instinct, hooking your leg behind a protruding piece of rock and grabbed your boyfriend quickly, before he’d make contact with the seawater. You succeeded in your mission of saving your boyfriend,  but you heard a nauseating crack when you leaped forward, a white-hot pain spreading through your leg immediately. You let out a loud yelp, which woke up Ace immediately, completely disoriented and a little confused.

“Y/n! What happened?” He clambered back onto the rock, too confused to spot your leg yet, while you felt the tears spring in your eyes. You tried to bite them back, but your leg hurt a lot, you weren’t even sure if you’d be able to remove it from its awkward position without suffering. “You fell asleep and I helped you,” you replied through gritted teeth, the wonderful dolphin show now completely forgotten,  “Ace, I think I broke my leg.”

Ace then finally noticed the strange position you were in and his eyes widened in a panic. For the next few minutes the both of you tried to figure out what to do and how to get you back onto the striker without causing you too much pain. The best and seemingly only solution was Ace straight up lifting you up from the rock so you wouldn’t have to move much, and he held onto you as he got back onto the striker, apologizing through the whole ordeal.

“I am so sorry I ruined your birthday, it was meant to be a little surprise, and I just fell asleep like an absolute idiot, I am so sorry y/n.” He repeated it as if it was a mantra, and you felt back because you heard the agony in his voice. And while your leg was still hurting like hell, you didn’t want him to think that he had completely ruined your day. After all, it was only morning still.

“Tell you what Ace. You’re going to drop me off at Marco’s and he’s gonna help me fix that leg. Then, you will carry me to our room and we’re going to do what I had planned for my birthday all along: cuddle and be lazy together. If we’re feeling adventurous we can watch the sunset on deck. No need to do anything crazy” “Are you sure y/n? It’s not that exciting, and I had many more small things planned…”

“Ace, as long as I am with you, I honestly don’t care how we spend my birthday.”

You swore you saw his eyes gloss over momentarily before he regained composure with some new-found courage. “Okay, I will do whatever it takes to make this your best birthday still, even though I started out on the wrong foot”

“You sure you want to use that expression Ace? It’s not even correct” You raised a brow but let out a small laugh, almost forgetting the pain in your leg. “SORRY!!!!”

You knew he was gonna do his best. And you knew it was going to be a great birthday anyway. Broken legs or not.

[5lazarus]

Jane Austen Book Club

Dukat reads Pride and Prejudice to help him understand human relations (and fuck the Sisko). He thinks he’s being Darcy but really, he’s just Mr. Collins…and evil. Garak lends him a copy of Jane Austen and a horrific cravat, and really, it's all downhill from there. The sorta-Regency AU that no one wanted but that @the-venereal-bede asked for, so here we go!

For your formatting sanity, read on Archive of Our Own here!

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Commander Sisko is in need of a good fuck. Skrain Dukat believes he is just the man for the job. Absolutely everyone else disagrees.

“You see, my dear Julian,” Garak says, eyes widening over his Tarkalean tea, “a certain someone sent him a copy of that lovely novel you lent me, and he does believe it is meant as a model of, ah—“

“Human mating practices,” Julian says, horrified.

Garak closes his eyes, inclines his head, and smiles. “Yes. Now, how he arrived at that misconception is neither here nor there.”

“You told him,” Julian says.

Garak widens his eyes and inclines his head. “Now, your Jane Austen writes a society that is…familiar to certain Cardassian cultural practices.”

“The bickering as a lead up to sex, yes,” Julian says. Garak pauses. Julian says, “What? I read about it.”

Garak does not even attempt to suppress a smirk. “What book?” he asks, faux-suspicious.

Julian colors, and continues, “So, a certain someone, who is certainly not a spy masquerading as a tailor, slipped Jane Austen’s seminal text Pride & Prejudice into Gul Dukat’s PADD when he showed up at the station after we accidentally set off the emergency self-destruct system. As an insider look into human mating culture. And now he’s convinced this is going to get Commander Sisko to fuck him.”

Garak says, “Yes, isn’t it delightful?”

Julian picks up his tea and smiles over the rim. “Oh yes,” he says. “Commander Sisko is going to kill us both!”

At Quark’s, during lunch, Major Kira comes to their table. She interrupts a truly riveting debate about the old Earth movie Lawrence of Arabia and the sublimation of trauma into BDSM, where Garak is cool and amused the entire time, and Julian more and more gesticulating.

“It’s not just sex, Garak,” Julian is saying hotly.

Kira steps back, but Garak, smirking to himself, says loudly, “Oh Major, do you need something? You’re just in time to settle a question.”

Kira says uncertainly, “I’m not sure I’m the best one to ask.”

“Nonsense!” Julian says. “Who else would we go to?” He puts down his fork. Garak leans forward and grins at Julian.

Kira says, “Dax? Quark? Even Sisko—actually, scratch that.” She puts her hands on her hips, trying to convey authority. It works on Julian. Garak merely widens his eyes at her. “So, I got the most interesting call in Ops today.” Julian glances up at Garak, and Kira folds her arms. “I get the sense you know what I’m talking about.”

Garak says, “I haven’t the slightest idea, Major. Please,” he gestures at a seat. “Enlighten us.” Julian picks up his fork again and smiles at him. He’s amused. So is Kira, despite herself. She pulls up a chair and sits on it backwards.

She leans forward and whispers, “Gul Dukat was wearing—Dax called it a cravat?”

Julian snorts into his tea.

“Ah,” Kira says. “I get the sense you know what I’m talking about. He called Dax, asking if she could—grant him an introduction? To Sisko?” She is baffled by the words she’s saying. “He says he needs a chaperone. Now, that’s never stopped him from diplomatic negotiations before—“

Garak says knowingly, “Oh, Major, he should never have been left without a chaperone to begin with. His father—“

Kira says, “I don’t want to know. I don’t want to know! What you did to his father. I don’t need to know. Anyway. I just had a sense. Do you two have anything to do with that?”

Julian sets his fork back down and puts his napkin on his plate. “We don’t mean any harm,” he says. “Just—streamlining communication. Did Dax agree?”

Kira says, “Yeah, that’s the part I don’t get. She said yes! I’ve never seen her agree to anything that fast—willingly spending time with Gul Dukat!”

Garak inquires innocently, “Did he happen to mention a book, Major?”

“Something about a Darcy?”

Julian puts his head in his hands. Garak’s eyes widen. “Oh, then—there’s nothing to worry about. He’s just indulged in an Earth book of manners I sent him. Nothing to worry about,” he repeats. Slowly, he smiles. “But do give Lieutenant Dax my thanks.”

Dax says, “I think the funniest thing about this is that he thinks he’s Mr. Darcy, when he’s clearly a Mr. Collins.”

Kira says, “I still don’t get—why do you need to drop off a card and get it signed to talk to someone you want to fuck?”

Dax rolls her eyes. “It’s not quite that, Kira,” she says. “It’s more that you’re open to—talking.” She rolls her hands out as they exit the turbolift and enter Ops.

“Right.” Kira waggles her eyebrows. “Talking.” They separate to their stations, hiding their smiles, and shift to their Starfleet selves. Dax pulls up the latest readings on geothermic activity from the closest M-class planets in the Gamma Quadrant; the Jem’Hadar are not near, but close enough that their sensors register their presence. Kira frowns over the latest dispatch from the provisional government. Everything is new, nothing is particularly going well, but they have a rhythm, and that means they can get through the day. Routine is good: Kira is still unsettled by her real-life nightmare with the Cardassians, and Dax still catches herself whistling Joran’s melodies.

Then Sisko comes out of his office, bearing raktajino and whistling to himself. Dax involuntarily starts: Joran? Kira looks up sharply, but Sisko is calm and that calms her. Dax goes back to work.

Sisko walks over to Kira and says, “I just had the most informative call with Kai Winn and Vedek Bareil.”

Kira straights up. “Oh?” she says warily.

Sisko takes a sip from his Klingon coffee, preparing to launch into the story, but an ensign says, “What the fuck? Sorry, sir. We have an incoming call from…Gul Dukat.”

Dax giggles. Sisko looks askance and says, “Again?”

Dax says innocently, “Oh, I wonder what he could want.”

Kira coughs a laugh into her hands. Sisko rolls his eyes at her.

“Let’s see what he’s wearing this time,” he sighs. He looks at Dax. “I don’t know who gave him a book of manners from eighteenth century England, of all places. It’s infuriating. On screen, ensign.” He braces himself, and Dax and Kira do too.

Gul Dukat takes up the whole screen, not because he is a particularly big man or charismatic. It is because he programmed it to fixate on his face. He sits there primly, neck covered by a huge, puffy piece of cloth. It is lurid, bright orange, and its pattern seethes.

That is one horrific necktie, the entirety of Ops thinks in unison. Not even Quark would touch that; this makes the Ferengi’s ugly-chic look positively haut-couture.

Sisko clears his throat. “What do you want, Dukat?” he says.

Dukat smiles winsomely. It is the same smile he wore when he told a Bajoran worker he was stealing her wife and sending her children to the mines. Kira’s face fixes into a snarl. Sisko glances back at her, to check if she needs anything, but she makes a subtle gesture with her hand.

“Well?” Sisko says. “I do have a station to run.”

Gul Dukat drawls, “Certainly you have time for a chat between partners—“

“Partners?” Sisko stares askance. “You got trapped in Ops during a self-destruct program you made, and you think you can—is there anything you need, Dukat?” He restrains his anger. Behind him, Kira is now less disgusted and more horrified. She tries to catch Dax’s eye: is this really happening?

Dax grins.

“No, I just wanted to offer my assistance,” Dukat says. “To remind you that I am still here, assiduously waiting, to swoop in whenever I hear the call. As I did during the auto-destruct sequence just one week ago, if you remember.”

“Swoops like a vulture,” Kira mutters behind Sisko. “Like carrion.”

Dax says, “Well, with that necktie, he’s certainly hard to forget.”

Dukat preens. “Do you like? I was advised by—I wish our people to become better friends, Commander Sisko. Truly, I do. And I think the best way for us to proceed is for you to remember that I am always here. Waiting. For when you will need me, because you will need me.”

“Chief O’Brien has this station well in hand,” Sisko says repressively, “and Bajor takes care of the rest. Is there anything else you need?” Gul Dukat opens his mouth, but Sisko gestures at the ensign. “Close the channel. Sisko out.” He turns to Dax. “What the fuck was that about?”

Dax shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says.

Sisko says, “I know you do, Old Man. What’s he playing at?”

Dax begins walking towards the turbolift. “Dunno! But I just remembered—I need to drop these PADDs off with Julian.” She grins at him. “What? You didn’t like the cravat?” Sisko sighs.

“Cheer up, Benjamin,” she says as the doors begin to close. “At least he’s using his words.”

Sisko winces. Turning around, he barks at the frozen Ops personnel. “What? Don’t you have work to do? Get to work!”

“Bet you he was jerking off under the table,” Dax says. “Acquire.”

Quark makes a face. “Evade. Well, he fucks himself every time he talks.” Busily he looks at his cards. Any hand can be a winning hand, if you play your cards right. He spins the tongo wheel. Dax smiles.

“What’s your bet, Quark?” she asks, stretching her legs like a lazy cat underneath the table. Quark rolls his eyes at her. “Do you think Benjamin will bite?”

“Not in the way Dukat wants,” Quark says. He looks at her suddenly, then glances back down at his cards. She is trying to distract him with gossip and he will not let it work, however entertaining Starfleet drama is. She’s bluffing. He says, “Unless?” Unfortunately Dax shakes her head. Damn, Quark thinks. That could have been profitable. Strange, but profitable.

Dax, thinking about it, says, mirth in her voice, “Well, that’d be a new record in interstellar relations. The Emissary of the Prophets and Starfleet commander accepts the courtship of one Gul Dukat—“

“Courtship?” Quark looks up sharply. “You didn’t tell me he was courting him.” This will definitely be profitable!

Dax is nonplussed. “Well, I mean, it’s not really a courtship when one party is utterly repulsed by the other and totally ignorant of his affections.”

“Jadzia,” Quark puts down his cards. “You’re breaking my heart. Don’t you know there’s money to be made, when love is in the air?” He mines sniffing the intoxicating aroma of phemerones, alien and Ferengi alike. He bares his sharp little teeth in a winsome grin. “I can help with this, you know. Help everyone. We can’t have our commander distracted in times such as these, you know. I can arrange a little meeting, semipublic, you understand—“

Dax says, “I don’t, but…retreat.” A bit embarrassed now, she spins the tongo wheel. She loves to gossip and she loves controlling the funnel of information through Quark. Perhaps this was a misstep.

Quark’s eyes light up. “Gul Dukat would pay good money on a spread of the commander’s favorite, under a candlelit dinner. In a semi-retreated place so, you know, fondling can happen if it happens—“

“You don’t think Benjamin’s going to fondle anything, do you?” Dax is amused. “Play your hand, Quark. And on your head if this backfires!”

Quark makes a face and says, “Confront.” He grins up at Dax. “Rule of Acquisition Twenty-Two: a wise man can hear profit in the wind.”

Dax cocks an eyebrow. “Rule of Acquisition One Hundred And Ninety,” she retorts. “Hear all, trust nothing. Tongo!”

“I don’t know why we have to have this here, Quark,” Sisko says. “We have a board room in Ops.”

“Don’t you hew-mons know anything about preventing a war?” Quark scowls. “Wine and dine, commander! Wine and dine!”

Sisko rolls his eyes. Dukat has demanded a meeting to discuss Jem’Hadar build-up on the Gamma side of the wormhole; Starfleet Command indicated their desire that he speak to it, citing his strange ability to keep Dukat talking. There’s nothing strange about it. The man’s an egotist. Normally Sisko would convene the meeting in his office, and have Kira or Dax around to keep him from getting too weird, but both of them have pleaded busy. Captain Bodahn is in town; Vedek Bareil has a rare break from monastic duties. Thus Sisko is left alone, with Quark, in a private nook at the upper level of the bar, where few can see them but, of course, the bartender himself. Nothing goes unseen at Quark’s.

Odo has arranged Bajoran security throughout the place, enough to make it clear they aren’t happy Dukat is here. Sisko catches the gaze of one particularly stoic woman. Stony, she does not even nod back. They’re good, Odo’s hand-picked forces. While they’re loyal to Odo first and Starfleet maybe seventh, Sisko likes having them around. It makes Dukat very, very uncomfortable.

Quark says, right in his ear, “What do you think of crayfish?” Sisko starts violently and pushes him away.

“Crawfish?” Sisko stares at him. “What?”

“I asked your dad,” Quark says.

“What?” That’s insane. “How did you—nevermind, Quark.” Joseph can handle anyone, and the idea of his wily old dad running circles around Quark is oddly comforting. Then he hears the murmurs, Bajorans looking askance, and knows Dukat is coming.

Quark says, “Damn. Must’ve stopped by at Garak’s, then.” Sisko’s mouth drops. Dukat is wearing skintight pants, illuminating every unfortunate bulge and ridge in his knobby legs. He wears that horrific cravat, stroking it as he weaves like a snake through the shocked crowd. The necktie is orange. The waistcoat is an electric blue of the likes never seen amongst the terracottas popular on Deep Space Nine. The jacket, though, is out of this world—slashed to give him the appearance of a tiny waist and shoulders so ridiculously wide he looks like a capital-T.

Quark says, “Hm. Cardassian fashions must’ve changed since the Occupation. Well! Don’t you feel underdressed.”

Sisko says, “He looks like a sea slug.”

“Where I’m from, that’s a complement!” Quark grins. “A bottle of kanar and whiskey for yourself, coming right up.”

“No—“ Sisko does not want to give Dukat any excuse to be more verbose than usual, but it is too late. Quark disappears, and Dukat approaches.

“Ah, Commander,” Gul Dukat preens. “How good of you to consent to dinner with me.”

Sisko says, “I follow my orders. Where’s Quark?”

Dukat says, “Surely we’re beyond the point of needing chaperones.” He sits down at the table, which is uncomfortably small. Sisko pulls his own chair back and settles down, four inches away. Dukat scooches in. A muscle twitches in Sisko’s jaw, but otherwise, he does not move.

Quark comes by holding candlesticks. Sisko, perturbed, says, “Is this really necessary? It’s just business.”

Quark says, “Sh. Now, gentleman!” He claps his hand. “For our first course, I’ll be serving you a Ferengi special—desiccated laka leaves with freshly-filleted tube grubs, in a fermented garlic wine sauce. I know how you liked my tube grubs, Dukat.”

Dukat smiles winsomely. It makes him look even more like an inbred greyhound than usual. Sisko is beginning to think he might want that whiskey after all.

Quark continues, “And then, for our main course—a simple crawfish boil, as you hew-mons say, with candied makati berries to keep it to our Cardassian tastes.” Quark winks, very obviously, to Dukat. Dukat’s smile grows wider.

Sisko, a bit disturbed, says, “Uh—why don’t we just leave it at the tube grubs, Quark.” It is not question. It is an order. “I have pressing business to attend to, and cannot stay for a whole three-course meal.” Pressing business like making sure Jake and Nog have done their homework and going over security reports with Odo, which he had planned to do tomorrow morning, but the less time spent with Dukat, the better.

Dukat says, “I agree. We want to get to the point of this meeting, don’t we?” He begins loosening his cravat.

Quark holds his clasped hands to his chest gleefully. “I quite agree!” He leans forward and lights the candles quickly. “I’ll just leave you two gentlemen to it.” He scampers away, leaving Sisko with a horrible feeling. This is going to be weird. With Dukat, it’s always weird.

As soon as Quark leaves, Dukat leans forward and attempts to pull his hand forward, upsetting the candle.

“Woah, man,” Sisko says, grabbing it as it spills wax onto Dukat’s hand. Dukat hisses, releasing him grip.

“Benjamin, if I may call you Benjamin,” Dukat begins.

“Commander is fine,” Sisko says. “Dukat, what—“

“In our long acquaintance, you have found me a constant and unfailing presence,” he says, stroking his horrific necktie. “Indeed, my interventions have been necessary, saving the life of you, your son, and this whole station on multiple occasion. Your barbs have been sharp, your repartee cunning, but as for me, I have shown mastery in every situation that you have needed me. Clearly it is time for us to admit all along that this dance is reaching its final, fated steps. The Emissary of the Prophets needs the Prefect of Major, and together—“

Sisko says, “Since when have you saved my life? You were an active inconvenience when the station was under lockdown, you have consistently attempted to take the station by force—“

Dukat smiles again. “Again, we dance, and the music plays on.” He waves a hand idly through the air. “O-Oh, Quaaark!” he trills. Quark comes running over. “Where are our drinks? Where is the music? Why isn’t there dancing?”

Sisko stares at Quark. “Because I said so,” Sisko says.

Quark points at Sisko. “Because he said so. Drinks coming right up!” He scurries away and comes back with a single bottle of kanar and two traditional hourglass glasses. He pours them both a glass, maintaining eye contact with Sisko the entire time.

Dukat says, “A toast.”

Sisko says, “Our sensors have not picked up any new activity from the Jem’Hadar. Do you have something to report, or are you just wasting my time?”

Dukat laughs lightly. “Oh, commander, save some of that for later.” A bit more threatening this time, he says, “A toast—to our partnership.”

Sisko says, “I don’t drink kanar. And I don’t drink with you, Dukat. Now, will you tell me what you’re blathering about or will you f—“

“Gentlemen!” Quark says, bearing tube grubs. “I hope I’m interrupting.”

Sisko says, “Don’t you mean…not interrupting, Quark?”

A beat passes. Quark inclines his head. “Sure.” He places a plate of freshly-filleted tube grubs before both of them, and then proffers what Sisko assumes is a pepper grinder. “Paprika?” Dukat, pained, nods. Vigorously Quark massages the grinder. It is a little obscene. He grunts as he begins to twist. Slowly, achingly, the flakes begin to drop.

Sisko says, “Please stop.”

Quark says, “Just setting the mood.” Sisko makes a face. “You want, too?” He makes for Sisko, who puts his hands up.

“I don’t like tube grubs,” he says sourly, eying Dukat. “I think our business is done here.”

“No!” Quark pounces. “You haven’t even gotten to your second course!”

Sisko turns to him. “Who’s paying you?” he demands. “What’s going on?” Quietly the Bajoran security officers in their wall-colored clothes each take a step forward, to make themselves known.

Dukat growls, “Quark, you’re ruining the moment.” He smiles unpleasantly. “Benjamin, please.” He takes his arm, but Sisko slaps his hand away.

“What’s gotten into you?” Sisko says. “What’s with the—necktie?”

Dukat preens. “What, this old thing? A mutual friend told me it was just the thing to attract the notice I desire. He gave me a book, you see, and really I must admit after reading it you humans are somewhat less unenlightened than I first imagined. More civilized than the Bajorans, at least.”

Sisko closes his eyes. “What book is that?” he says. “The Prince? Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? Vanity Fair?”

Dukat says, “Better. And it would make me the happiest of men, beyond the proudest of men, the most prejudiced of men—“

“That,” Sisko interrupts, voice rising, “is not a good thing.”

Dukat ignores him. “The most sensible of men, the most full of sense of men, of all persuasions to finally enjoin you, Benjamin, finally to end this charade.” He grabs Sisko’s hand. “Benjamin! You are not a Darcy!”

“The fuck are you saying,” Sisko says.

Dukat stops. “Surely you know—“

Sisko says with finality, “No. I don’t.”

Dukat says, “But—“

“No,” Sisko says.

“You said—the necktie—he said—“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Sisko says. “Eat your tube grubs.”

Gul Dukat tightens his cravat, and in silence they finish their meal. Catching Sisko in the replimat the next day, lunching with Julian as always, Garak asks Sisko what he thought of Dukat’s new passion for Jane Austen. Sisko shoots him a look so deadly he stops, eyes wide, and suddenly understands Dukat’s unrelenting lust.

“Well,” Garak says, shaking himself as Sisko stalks away. He pulls at his collar and them remembers himself. “That was…something, wasn’t it? Seeing our commander in a fury, in one look.” He leans forward, over the table. “You know, I don’t think Sisko like Jane Austen. Not nearly as much as Gul Dukat.”

Julian smiles wryly. He says, “Well, yes. Don’t you remember the situation with the ghost? He much prefers Wuthering Heights.” He looks at Garak, suddenly worried. “You’re not going to tell Dukat, are you?”

Garak smiles to himself. “I believe my one attempt at teaching him to be a man of culture is enough, my dear Julian.”

Julian frowns. “Shame. I thought we could have a book club.” He grins at the look on Garak’s face. “Get the boys all together. Act scenes out in the holosuites. Could be fun.”

Garak says, “No. Not with Gul Dukat. That cravat was enough.”

[boxboysandotherwhump]

The new boy in town.

Tags:  @salamancialilypad  @whumpfigure @albino-whumpee @comfy-whumpee  @ashintheairlikesnow   @haro-whumps   @moose-teeth @vickytokio​ @yet-another-heathen​ @orchidscript

Chapter 2

CW: body-shaming/ insults, discrimination/ dehumanization of mutants, an insect gets hurt, a nearly fistfight ensues

Heat thrummed through Gideon’s bones and throbbed in unison with his building headache. His patience had shriveled up like dried fruit under the torrid summer sun while this horrible lavender scent clung to his hair,  his skin, his clothes, making him dizzy.

It became stronger on the village outskirts, Gideon realized as he hurried after Director Sahin. The man ascended the crooked stone staircase effortlessly, his moss-green robe billowing behind him. His artfully decorated spear swayed with every step he took, not brushing a single leave. The only thing rustling through the underbrush was the wind and the creatures living there.

A twig caught in Gideon’s black curls, while the Director rambled on about the virtues of disciplinary work. How it encouraged the growth of one’s character, or some shit. The twig broke off with a quiet snap, painfully pulling at his scalp. Gideon’s mood dropped even lower. It was going to be a nightmare to fiddle all those shitty branches and leaves out of his hair later on.

He was seconds away from losing his barely-held composure. 

The only thing keeping him from bursting at the seams was the promise he’d whispered into his brother's grave, a last farewell bedded beside a corpse. 

Gideon had come to this godforsaken village to learn how to fight and survive in the forest, not to become some obedient little soldier boy! But in order to do that, he had to get cleared for training again and out of suspension.

If he had to play the director’s errand boy for a day to achieve that, so be it. He had endured worse.  

“Haaah, here we are.” Director Sahin inhaled deeply, arms falling wide. “Finally. My dear friend’s farm. Tell me, young Gideon, is it not simply beautiful?”

Gideon shrugged. “‘S’ okay.”

Granted, the house did look cozy, resting encircled by giant roots with its warm brick walls, but those gigantic snails everywhere sent a shudder down his spine. If he had to touch those slimy monsters he-

The farm’s sliding doors opened before he could utter a protest, and a fine-boned, middle aged woman emerged, followed by a huge man with a greying beard.  A boy, probably his own age but significantly shorter, held the door open for them.

The older woman’s lips curled into a crooked smile as she caught sight of Director Sahin, whose whole face had lit up. Dark eyes shining. 

“Moira. My darling. Please do not tell me you are about to leave? Not when I looked forward to seeing your beautiful face again.”

Gideon suppressed a gag. Moira crossed her arms, smile growing sharper. Her eyes held a warm twinkle as she spoke. “Eric; charming as ever.”

The man behind her stepped closer and huffed:  “M happy ‘ter see ya too, Eric.”

“Oh Ansgar you flatter me. But I must confess, I am not here solely for tea and a chat-“

The Director rattled on and Gideon’s focus wandered to the girl that had stepped out the door behind a blonde woman. A fancy grey blouse hung off her thin shoulders, nearly covering the  lace trim of blue silk short. A stark contrast to the more practical attire favored by most villagers. But that wasn’t what caught Gideon’s attention, no, he had seen all sorts of fancy getups up in Berlin -in the city's upper ring that is- what drew his eyes to her, was her face.

Its left side was oddly deformed, her pale skin uneven like a creased silk sheet, drawing her left eye down and her full lips up. She mouthed something to the boy, smiling, earning a smile from him in turn.

“Ah yes may I introduce: Gideon, my newest student.”

Having lost most of the adults’ conversation Gideon tuned back in just in time, to give them a curt nod.

“I will send him to collect the salve after the feast, then,” Director Sahin announced, please as can be. 

“Wonderful.” Moira clapped her hands. All back to business brusqueness.  “Sahar will appreciate not having to deliver it for once. Right?”

The other boy snapped to attention, green eyes wide and fingers twitching like the hands of a pianist. A grateful smile rose to his face and he nodded.

Oh great, so Gideon had to take the trip up here twice. 

They descended the stairs, lined up one after another on the narrow path. Sahar right in front of him, following the strange girl. He had avoided Gideon’s eyes as he squeezed past him, careful not to touch, probably scared off by his uniform. The school’s emblem, embroidered on his stainless white shirt, proudly declared him a scout in training. Deadly. Fearless. The little farm boy definitely did better not to mess with an insect slayer like him.

The girl came to an abrupt halt, frozen in the woodland’s shadows before it gave way to the dusty hill road. Gideon nearly collided with Sahar, when he heard it.

A primal, bone chilling hiss tore through the hot afternoon air, rattling through his very core. 

Every hair on his body stood, muscles tensing, on edge just like his fraying nerves. 

He knew that sound. 

Even though he’d heard it only once before. On the crusade from last-stand-berlin to the village, where he had seen the beast it belonged to lurk on the riverside, watching them.

He would never forget a spider’s hiss. 

And there one stood, right in front of him, its eight thorny legs towering high above its ugly head. The spider’s giant yaws worked, rubbed against each other in agitation. Its razor sharp fangs glistened in the sun.

A man sat atop its massive, hairy body, scar-faced and clad in a straw cape that was fastened to a beetle’s shell armoring his left shoulder. Shimmering in iridescent hues of blue and green. The man did not smile as he glanced down at them. A silent challenge was edged in the hard lines of his rugged face.

Tense static filled the air, an almost tangible thing that bit at Gideons fingers. It wormed its way into his bones, crawled over his scalp.  

He almost, almost, flinched when Director Sahin shouldered past him, spear drawn and followed by the other man. Both planted themselves right in front of him and the others.

The intruder’s scar stretched with the rise of his eyebrows, eyes slitting in a lazy half-grin.

 “Hey, there. Hold your horses. Before someone does something he regrets later.”

“That a threat?” Ansgar grunted.

Moira ducked past him, face twisted in a furious scowl as she spit. “Oh, something other than entering our village on a damn wolf-spider you mean?!”

The corded muscle in her boney arm flexed as she shook her fist at the man, unveiling a wrath behind her primly dressed form that no one would have wanted to fall victim to.

He, however, just leaned closer, smile stretching into a shark-tooth grin. “Gutsy, are we? I like that.”

Director Sahim stepped up beside her, spear held in a steady grip. “How could you make it past our InD-Units with this monstrosity?! God show you mercy if you did something to-”

“What do you think I am?!” the intruder drawled, hands raised in mock offense. “A monster?! Only reason I got past your insect defenses was this baby here.”

Gideon had to stand on his tiptoes to catch a glance of the small round device that sat embedded into the spider’s head, partly hidden by the man’s straw cape. A little red light blinked in a steady rhythm above three buttons, which the man was careful not to touch as he rapped his knuckles against it. 

“Renders her absolutely obedient. All natural instinct turned off. See?”

He unsheathed a knife from a holster strapped around his leg and its steel blade shimmered in the sun before he rammed it in one of the spider’s eyes, plopping it out with a nauseating plitch. The spider endured its master’s violation in utter stillness, only its yaws twitched, creating this awful hiss in their never ceasing movement.

 “She’s docile as a lamb.”

“And how exactly is that supposed to work?” the girl inquired, meeting the man’s stare with a calculated cold composure. She ignored the incredulous look the blonde woman gave her, as she mouthed: “Charlotte, what are you doing?”

The intruder's mouth twitched.

“Man, what do I know, Missy?! I’m a mutant hunter not a scientist.” He leaned closer, eyes narrowed, fixed on the girl's deformed face. Venom spiked his words, dripped from his tongue like acid. “My expertise lies in chasing down freaks.”

The condescendingly cruel way in which he spoke, wielding words like a weapon meant to pierce and twist where it hurt most, reminded Gideon oddly of his father. Anger welled up in his chest, buzzed down his legs and made them move. He planted himself right between the girl and the intruder.

How dare he compare someone to mutant scum?!

“Tsk. Mutant hunter?! You’ve ever even seen one? Or are you just talk? Threatening girls?!”

“Gideon.”, Director Sahim hissed, squeezing Gideon’s shoulder in warning as he tried to pull him back. 

The man gave them a wry smile. “No no. Let’s hear him out. Have you ever seen one boy?”

“Yes.” Gideon spat, unable to reign his emotions back in. “They’re hideous monstrosities.  And I’m going to find and kill every single one of them.”

The man burst into violent laughter, shoulders shaking and head thrown back, nearly losing his balance under the force of it.

“You do have guts, I give you that. But also lots to learn. Do you really think a girl can’t be a mutant? Monster’s come in all shapes and sizes, boy.” His eyes wandered back to Charlotte.  “Just ugly, that’s the whole lot of them.`` 

The blonde woman gasped, searching for words to shoot back, but falling silent as she noticed Charlotte’s expression. 

Red blotches burned on her face, rage twisting it into a vicious scowl. The afternoon sun set her copper curls on fire. Ready to spew fury and flames, she opened her mouth but Sahar was faster, his small voice piping up.

“Char- Charlotte is… is no- no mutant and and and she’s neither ugly nor weak. And and and people who talk about, talk about killing others for no- no, no reason are… They’re the- the real monsters.”  

His fingers fiddled with his shorts, tapping and twisting in the dark, worn linen as he stumbled over his words. His big green eyes jumped from the rocky street to the spider’s fangs, lingered on the intruder’s face before landing on Gideon. They narrowed as he all but spat the last words in Gideon’s face.  

“The hell you just said?!” Gideon’s nostrils flared. How dare this little runt run his mouth about things he didn’t know shit about!

Crossing his arms, Sahar forced himself to hold his ground against Gideon’s furious, wide eyed stare.  “You you, you heard me.”

Gideon heart hammered in his throat, pumping liquefied fire through his veins. His hands twitched.

“I give you one chance to take. That. Back.”

The boy’s trembling fingers dug into his forearms, knuckles whitening as he lifted his chin.

 “Never.”

A roar tore from Gideon’s throat as he leapt forward. Rage burned through him like a wildfire, ready to ignite everything his fist would come in contact with.

Beating the selfritousnes out of that stupid stammering farmboy was the only thing that mattered now. Everything else blurred to background noise. Even the stranger on his shitty spider. 

In that frozen second between charge and impact, Sahar’s  feet moved. His body tilted to the side. Dodged Gideon’s blow. Effortlessly. He bounced back. Landed on the first stone step and uncrossed his arms. Ready to defend himself. His fingers had stopped twitching.

That little runt had nerves! 

Gideon broke into a sprint.

“You sure are good at dodging!” He swung his arm back. “Try to handle this!”

Muscles flexing Gideon readied for impact, only for his arm to be janked back. A  large hand had wrapped around his wrist. Stopped him mid punch.  Craning his neck, Gideon stared up into Ansgar’s stern face.

Fuck he’s fast?! 

“Looks like ya still got lots t’ learn about respect ‘n self-discipline, young man.”

Director Sahin sighed, eyes still locked on the intruder, who watched the spectacle with a lazy kind of interest.

Ansgar released Gideon’s hand and turned to Sahar. His grey eyes glistened like ice shards. “Same goes for you. Ya disappointed me, Sahar.”

Sahar blinked up at the man, eyes round and full of disbelief.

“Wh-what- what, what do you, do do do do- what do you  mean?”

“I haven’t trained ya to run off ‘n start mindless fights. I tried to teach ya discipline ‘n how to survive these woods.” Ansgar’s voice did not waver and every word made Sahar shrink into himself. His fingers tapped a hectic distorted rhythm over his leg

The intruder snickered, “someone’s a stuck up,” earning Moira’s venomous glare. 

“But- but I didn’t- he he he he he was, he was the one who-“

“Enough,” Ansgar thundered. “Don’t argue with me. If ya want a beatin’ so bad I’ll give ya one later. And now back t’ the farm. Ya grounded for the week. No fest. No nothin’!”

Sahar crumbled under the man’s anger, head ducked between his shoulders as the first teardrop fell. It trickled down his trembling jaw, painting a glistening path on his warm skin.

Voice reduced to a shaky exhale Sahar nodded,  “yes, sir.”, and stormed up the stairs.

He had just vanished between the thick bushes, when the intruder broke out into a new laughing fit.

[nalgenewhore]

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Ress, Ress, wait,” Elide exclaimed, skittering to a stop as she tried to turn the corner. Her soft spoken bodyguard had been acting strangely ever since they had invited Fenrys to the palace. 

He reluctantly stopped, not meeting her eyes. “Hey, Elide.” Ress slunk away when she tried to touch his shoulder and she dropped her hand, a little pathetically. 

She tried to smile, tilting her head to the side, “I-I feel like no one’s seen you for ages, Ress. You know, if there’s ever something wrong, you can talk to me about it.” 

“Not about this,” he whispered. Ress looked down the hall, looking for a way to leave. 

Elide tried again, not ready to just let him leave, “Was it your boy?” She had a slight smile in her voice, trying to get a rise out of him or at least make him blush. His kind eyes hardened and she knew she had said the wrong thing. “Wait, Ress, please, I’m sorry- I-I didn’t mean to–” 

“Elide.” He said, his voice hard, brooking no room for argument. “I don’t want to talk about this and definitely,” he huffed a icy laugh, “definitely not with you, so please. Leave me alone.” Ress brushed by her without another word, walking quickly down the hall. 

Elide stood in shock, trying not to cry. After too long, she walked over to her old rooms, which they were fixing up for Fenrys. She nodded and tried to smile at the painters, whispering greetings to them. 

She sidled up to Lysandra, who was directing movers. “Hey.” 

Lysandra’s warm grin fell at Elide’s expression, “Hey, lovie. Wh-what’s wrong?” She ran a soothing hand down Elide’s back. 

“I think something happened with Ress and his boy and he- I think it’s my fault but I don’t know why,” Elide said, trying to not cry by tilting her face upwards. 

“How could it be your fault, El,” Lysandra asked, putting down her tablet. “He just wants a little space right now, I’m sure.” 

Elide nodded, not believing her friend in the slightest, but hoping she was right all the same. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan’s phone rang and he didn’t bother looking at the caller before he picked it up, “Hello?” 

“Lor, is that you, you fuckin’ bastard?”  

A lazy grin pulled at his lips and he sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk, “Marama.” 

Fenrys laughed brightly and Lorcan could almost see his friend’s shit-eating grin. “Heard you're trying to steal some poor girl’s throne, hmm? Seems fitting for Hellas’ spawn.” 

Lorcan rolled his eyes, “Yeah, and you’re the poor guy they called to slap a ring on her pretty lil’ finger.” 

“Ooh, she’s pretty?”  

Elide Lochan was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, but Lorcan kept that to himself. “She’s… nice to look at.” 

“Mmm, is that jealousy?” 

Lorcan felt something grow in his chest and he swallowed, some of his joking swagger leaving him, “Have at her, Fen. She’s feisty. I think you’ll like her.” 

Fenrys chuckled again, “Tell me again how many times she’s slapped you. It brings me such joy.”  

“Sadist,” Lorcan grumbled, rubbing his forehead. “And twice. The first was an accident.” 

“And the second?”  

His cheeks burned and he was grateful he was in his rooms with no one around, “I… uh, I might’ve called her ‘sweetheart’ or something.” 

“Hellas save you, man. You really are a fucking dumbass.” 

Lorcan rolled his eyes again, “I realise that, Fen. When’s your plane getting in, anyway?” 

The man on the end of the line hummed, “Mmm, in a couple days. Did you know I get a fancy room at the palace?”  

“Yeah, well, me too,” Lorcan shot back, smiling smugly. “You aren’t that special.” Fenrys just huffed and something crossed Lorcan’s mind, “Hey, weren’t you talking to some guy? What, ah, what are you doing about that?” 

“I ended it,” Fenrys said in a nonchalant voice. “He seemed fine with it, so no feelings were hurt, I guess.”

“And what about you? Are you fine with it?” 

“Couldn’t be more fine with it.” 

“Mmm, whatever you say, Fen.” 

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide ran down the hall, trying to go as quickly as possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, trying not to tip over in her three-inch heels. She was running as fast as she could, but her strides were shortened by her tight, fitted houndstooth skirt and the matching coat she carried in her arms. 

She attempted to slow down when she turned the corner into the foyer, but ended up sliding and windmilling her arms. Elide crashed into Rowan, groaning softly, “Shit, sorry, Ro.” She shrugged her coat on, flipping her hair out from under the collar. “How do I look?” 

“Ravishing,” said a new voice, one she had never heard before. Elide spun, her eyes landing on a beautiful man. “If I may say so myself.” 

“You must be Fenrys,” she replied, her cheeks burning. She surveyed him from head to toe. He had cut off his dreads, his hair now bleached blonde and shaved close to his skull. It was styled in a meticulous, 360° wave pattern, which no doubt took years of mastering. 

Fenrys smiled, his cheek dimpling, and then he bowed, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elide. I am humbled that you think someone like me could be your knight in shining armor.” 

Elide liked him immediately and laughed, holding out her hand for him to shake, “I am forever in your debt, good sir.” His hand was large and warm, his grip not too tight and not too loose. Perfect. “How was your trip from Doranelle?” 

“Oh, uneventful, I’d say. Lovely plane you’ve got,” he said, flashing her another grin. Fenrys’ dark eyes had a cheeky gleam in them that Elide instantly adored. 

“Oh, that old thing?” she asked flippantly. “That’s just something we have lying around.” Fenrys laughed, the sound warm and booming as it echoed through the hall. Elide smiled, turning back to Aelin and Rowan, who were in the midst of exchanging a secret glance. “Your Majesties, Fenrys Marama.” 

Fenrys bowed to Aelin, “My queen.” Aelin dipped her chin, sending a giddy grin to Elide. I like him, Elide mouthed as Fenrys and Rowan said their greetings. 

Elide looked around for Ress, wondering if her bodyguard was feeling better. In his place, another guard stood, looking much more intimidating and imposing than Ress ever did. She turned to Lysandra, whispering softly, “Where’s Ress?” 

“He’s taken some time off, not feeling well,” Lysandra murmured back. “Now, you and Fenrys are going to have a walk in the gardens. A photographer will be there, but just ignore them.” 

Elide nodded, turning back to Fenrys. The man smiled again, offering Elide his arm. She slipped her hand into his elbow and he said, “Shall we?” 

“We shall.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Three days later and Elide didn’t think she would ever tire of Fenrys’ company. He was hilarious and kind, his humour more bold and obvious than Elide’s, but they paired well together. 

She had learned that his favourite colour was yellow, his birthday was exactly two months after hers - August twelfth - his favourite sport was soccer and he had gone to the University of Varese on a soccer scholarship. Though his degree was in political science, and he planned to become a lawyer, Fenrys had an aptitude for photography and carried his camera almost everywhere with him. 

His older brother, Connall, was quieter than him, the dark side of the same coin. They had grown up in Doranelle their whole lives. Fenrys said he was grateful that he was the spare, because it gave him the freedom to explore the world as he had always itched to do. 

“Ellie,” he called, beckoning her over to where he was bent over a flower bush. 

Elide walked over to him, leaning down next to him, “What is it?” 

“A butterfly,” he said, lifting his camera to snap a picture. It was as if the soft click of the frame had bothered the delicate creature and it took off, fluttering in the air to a new perch. Fenrys pouted, sad that his new friend left so soon. 

Elide chuckled, “Don’t worry, sweetie-pie.” That was a new thing they had started the other day. Elide called him ‘sweetie-pie’ and in return, Fenrys had dubbed her ‘honeybunch’. It annoyed everyone around them, these overly affectionate names, and the pair thrived off everyone’s irritation. 

Fenrys laughed softly and stood up, slinging his arm around her shoulders, “You hungry? I think it’s time for lunch.” 

She smiled, wrapping her arm around his waist, “You always think it’s time for…” Elide trailed off as a certain someone walked into the garden, a book in his hands. Immediately, she scowled. 

“Honeybunch, are you alright?” 

Elide nodded, still frowning as Lorcan sat down on a bench and opened his book. He must’ve noticed her staring and looked up, flashing her a cocky grin that she wanted to slap off his perfect, beautiful face. “‘m fine,” she muttered, balling her free hand into a fist. 

Fenrys looked up, following her eyeline to Lorcan, who he faked a confused frown at, deciding it would be best if Elide didn’t know their connection. “Who’s that?” 

“Hellas incarnate,” she said, tugging Fenrys along to the castle. “He’s the other heir. I hate him.” 

Fenrys nodded thoughtfully, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly, “Don’t worry, he won’t succeed. That’s why I’m here.” 

“Ah, yes, my knight in shining armor,” Elide said in a simpering tone, batting her eyelashes. 

Her friend rolled his eyes, bumping her with his hip, “Shut up, stupid.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

My dearest honeybunch, snookums, Elide, Meet me in the garden, at dawn, should you dare Forever and truly, Your most beloved sweetie-pie 

Elide snorted at the note in her hand once more, shaking her head as she walked down the stairs. The whole proposal was planned out and still, Fenrys had used every loophole that he could to make it feel like it wasn’t just a business deal. 

She wore a pretty pink midi skirt and an oversized, cream-coloured sweater. On her feet she had on another pair of rounded-toe pumps, cream to match her top. Her hair was curled and loosely falling down her back, two sections pinned in the back to pull her hair away from her face. 

Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she walked out into the garden, spotting Fenrys sitting beneath a lilac tree. He stood up when he saw her, smiling broadly, “Good morning, Elide.” 

“Good morning, Fenrys,” she said, rolling her eyes when he took her hand and bent to kiss her knuckles. “Will you tell me why you’ve summoned me out here?” 

“Let us sit,” he told her, motioning her to the stone bench he had been resting upon. 

Elide sat, her hands folded in her lap. Fenrys joined her, his knee knocking into hers. She knew the paparazzi and the press were peeking through the garden fence and gate, their cameras flashing as they snapped a flurry of shots. “Over the past week,” Fenrys started, reaching over to hold her hands in his, “I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to know you and I have fallen desperately in love with your entire being.” 

Elide bit her lip to stop from laughing, nodding serenely, “Of course.” 

Fenrys’ eyes held a warning light, telling her if she laughed, he would laugh too. “And I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you so I ask thee,” he slid off the bench, smoothly pulling a velvet box from his pocket as he kneeled and flipped the lid open, “if you would do me the greatest honour in life and become my wife. Elide Amara Lochan, will you marry me?” 

She lifted her hand to her throat, the tears in her eyes forming in an effort to keep from snorting and ruining it all, “Oh, sweetie-pie. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!” Fenrys grinned wickedly and slid the ring onto her finger. 

Elide flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Fen,” she whispered, eyeing the diamond ring on her finger. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her with him as he stood up. 

For some reason, the sinking feeling in her gut didn’t dissipate and Elide had to hold back tears of grief. 

Everything is fine, she told herself, you’re happy. The happiest you’ve ever been.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“I believe congratulations are in order,” Lorcan drawled as Elide walked into the library. 

She froze and turned, glaring at him. “Thank you,” she said tightly, her back straight. “I’m very happy with him.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he replied, smirking at her before returning to his book. He could tell she hadn’t moved and looked up again, “Is there something I can help you with, sweetheart?” Her cheeks reddened as her eyes flashed dangerously. 

Lorcan idly thought he should be scared of her, but he wasn’t in the slightest. He ran his eyes down her body, stifling the urge to reach out and wrap her up in his arms. She looked so soft in her black leggings and slouchy grey cashmere sweater that slipped down one arm. 

“I am,” Elide insisted, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her stack of books. “I am very happy with Fenrys. We’re in love.” 

Lorcan snorted, looking down at his book. He didn’t read a single word, “Don’t be dumb.” 

“I am not dumb, Lorcan,” she hissed. 

“Hmm, I don’t think you’re dumb, I think you’re being dumb,” he said, flipping the page. “Because if you were being smart, you would know that you could never be happy with Fenrys and,” he lifted his eyes up to her angered gaze, her cheeks still pink, “he could never fall in love with someone like you.” 

The angered light in her eyes guttered. It was replaced by crushing sorrow and she quickly looked away from him, “Well, you would know, wouldn’t you? I can’t ever imagine someone loving you.” Without another word, Elide turned away from him and walked deeper into the library. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Ready?” 

Elide breathed out slowly, resting her hand on Fenrys’ forearm, “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

They walked to the formal dining room, their steps sure and measured. “You look rather dashing,” Elide said, appraising her fiancé in a fitted suit. 

Fenrys flashed her a grin, taking her hand and twirling her under his arm. Elide laughed, but the unwarranted thought in her mind was that it felt nothing like when Lorcan had spun her around. “As do you,” Fenrys said, resting his hand on her lower back, her black dress offering an open back. The neckline was square with delicate straps, its skirt ending just beneath her knees with a back slit that allowed her to walk normally even with the snug fit.  

Fenrys led her to the hall and Elide saw Ress standing with Lysandra at the door. He didn’t look pleased to be there, so she held herself back and simply nodded at him. He gave her a small smile and she tucked the little victory into her heart, not noticing how he glanced at Fenrys and immediately dropped his gaze. 

She didn’t notice how Fenrys locked his jaw and stared straight ahead, tears burning in his eyes, either.

“Are we ready?” Lysandra asked, her eyes sparkling. Elide nodded, shooting her friend a grateful smile.

She and Fenrys waited outside the room as the majordomo announced from inside, “Presenting, her royal Grace, Lady Elide, and Lord Fenrys of Doranelle.”

The double doors were pulled open by two men. The couple smiled and waved politely as they walked to their seats. Aelin and Rowan were standing at the head of the table. 

The queen stayed standing as the guests all sat, raising her glass of champagne to Elide and Fenrys, “Thank you all for joining us today as we celebrate the engagement of my dear cousin, Elide, and Fenrys. I could not be more happy for the two of you.” She lifted her glass as the others did and toasted, “To Elide and Fenrys!” 

Elide lifted her glass, staring across the table at Lorcan as he mockingly tilted his head to the side and toasted them. “To the happy, happy couple,” he said, just loud enough for Elide to hear him. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide viciously cut a bite-sized piece of her veal, scowling the entire time at Lorcan, who just smiled back at her and chewed slowly on his own food. 

She hoped that he choked. 

He spoke quietly with his aunt, who looked like she wanted to throttle either Elide or Fenrys or maybe the both of them. 

Elide smirked at the thought, smug knowing she had bested Maeve. Her uncle looked displeased as well as he pushed his food around his plate, glowering down at something and on occasion, up at Lorcan. 

She watched as Vernon lifted his head to glare at her arch nemesis. Lorcan just sipped on his whiskey and regarded Vernon with a bored expression, his body language open and unimpressed. Glancing down his frame, Elide swallowed hard at the sight of his white dress shirt. Lorcan had forgone a tie, somehow managing to pull it off and not look out of place amidst Elide’s formally dressed guests. He wore a navy suit, the colour making an arresting match with his copper skintone. 

The top buttons of his shirt were opened, the white material straining over his muscular chest. She caught a glimpse of black ink and a flush appeared on her chest as she imagined tracing her tongue over it. 

Shaking her head, she looked up at Fenrys, smiling, “How are you?” 

He lowered his head to her ear, “I’m doing quite well, Elide. And you?” 

“I’m good,” Elide said, sighing in relief when servers cleared their plates for the next course. “Bit tired.” 

He slid his hand between the back of the chair and her, easing the strain from her shoulders with a soothing touch. Elide sighed, easing into it by a bit. It still wasn’t as comfortable as she wished it was. 

It was the touch of a friend, a confidant, but not one of a lover. Shame coursed through her as the memory of Lorcan’s hand on her back was the first thing she thought of. 

Fenrys’ touch was nothing like that and she wished so badly that it was. 

+*+*+*+*+*+* 

Lorcan watched Fenrys rub Elide’s back, watched how she let the royal, regal mask slip. A pang of jealousy echoed in his chest and he knocked back the rest of his whiskey, savouring the slight burn that accompanied the amber liquid. 

Still, she didn’t relax completely. An image of her, something his mind made up, took up his brain. Elide, tired and exhausted, melting into his side. She smiled sleepily, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest. He dropped whatever he was doing and lifted her into his arms, gently carrying her to a bed - their bed. 

The hissing voice of his aunt startled him out of his reverie. “What, Maeve,” he said, looking down at his plate to find that they had moved onto the last course of desert. Thank the Creator. 

“Were you even listening to a thing I said,” she snapped, viciously deconstructing the delicate chocolate and espresso pot de crème. 

“No.” Lorcan looked at Fenrys, who was shooting him a worried look as he glanced between Lorcan and Maeve and Elide’s horrid uncle. If Lorcan had to choose one man he hated with his entire soul, it was Vernon Lochan. He had heard the story of Elide’s injury and the moment he had met Vernon, he had had to refrain from inflicting the very same pain and abuse onto the weaselly regent. “What do you want?” 

His aunt huffed, “We still have a chance at the throne, Lorcan.” 

“Of course we do,” he said drily, watching Fenrys whisper something that had Elide covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed. Her eyes sparkled and her nose scrunched up and she looked so happy. 

Lorcan hated Fenrys in that moment. He hated him so damn much. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Maeve had finally left. She had been telling him bullshit about how they could still win, Elide could still be ineligible. 

Eventually, he had just told her he would talk to her another day and he was tired. Lorcan stood on the dining room balcony, staring out at the forest. He had a crystal glass of whiskey in his hands, the singular ice cube melting. Lorcan had been waiting too long to drink it. 

The door opened behind him and he didn’t need to turn to know that it was Fenrys. 

“Lorcan,” Fenrys said, his voice low. 

He turned, offering a tight smile, “Congrats, Fen. I’m real happy for you guys.” Lorcan drank deeply from his glass, a slight buzz numbing him. “Real fuckin’ happy.” 

Fenrys arched a brow, not believing him in the slightest. In his hands, he carried an unopened bottle of liquor, “Really?” 

“Mm-hmm. I think you’ll,” he coughed, his throat tight, “you’ll make her really happy, Fen.” 

“Lor, don’t fucking lie to me.” 

“I am not fucking lying to you, Fen,” he said, his voice raising. “I hope that you make Elide Lochan happy. I hope that she makes you happy because if she doesn’t, what the fuck is the point of any of this?” He waved his hand, “Yeah, and I know it’s my fault, it’s all I think about.” 

Lorcan breathed in deeply, putting his glass down, “You told me you were in love, Fen. With that boy, you called me when you were blackout drunk and were crying over how much you loved him. How do you just… give that up for some girl you don’t know?” 

Fenrys sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes, “The boy… he didn’t love me. Not yet, at least, and I couldn’t stand waiting around for it so… yeah. I gave whatever that was up for some girl I didn’t know. She needed help, don’t you get that?” 

Lorcan just shook his head and pulled Fenrys into a tight hug. Better than most people, he thought to himself, not noticing dark eyes watching him through the opened door.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: ......i feel like that was a lot of stuff that happened. wow. 

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse  @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @januarystears @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @magicalunicorngypsy @elriel4life @sensitiveillyrian

[sumire-bride]

Sumire and shuu’s route (demo) maniac 4

((Please read the hashtags before proceeding))

Monologue

I’m not sure how to make friends.. actually..

I’ve never made one before.. I never needed too.. when he was my only one

I don’t think I want to anymore.. He was right.. I don’t need anyone else but him..

Because everyone else will hurt me..

I hate it here..

Scene is in the infirmary

Sumire- … (…I do not understand… I do not know what I did to make people so mad… I am so confused… father.. can you make me understand…?)

(…I forget your not here sometimes… so you can’t answer my questions…)

*sumire is bandaging her arm*

(…I was only trying to look for Shuu-sama to do to class…. I did not mean to upset anyone… I should say sorry when I see them again…)

*FLASH BACK*

Sumire- …oh… where could he be…? (…Shuu-sama must you try so hard to hide away… I need to bring you to class..) haah…

Female student- hey..! You! Your missing class you know! What are doing anyway?

Sumire- ..hm..? Oh..! (…It was that girl who called me… a whore…) hello.. I am sumire…

Female student- see what I told all of you.. she’s totally stupid

Sumire- …I did not hear the bell… so I did not realize class had started… forgive me… but I was just trying to look for shuu-sama… I will only be a few minutes…

Female student- you really don’t listen do you? I told you to back off did I not!?

Sumire- ..back off…? I am not sure what that phrase means… but I have been a good listener all my life….

Female student- apparently not.. your still hanging around Shuu.. I told you to leave him alone!

Sumire- …?…

But I live with Shuu-sama… and we go to the same classes… I have no choice but to interact with him… if there is something else I can do to make you happy and your other people… then please tell me…

2nd female student- she’s like a robot… it’s creepy..

Male student- at least a robot can talk without pausing every few seconds

Female student- well even so I told you before stop, as of recently I’ve noticed that you’ve been giving him that look

Sumire- …look..? I am confused… I do not remember giving him any type of look…

Female student- tch.. you look at him with such admiration and love it’s honestly disgusting if I have to say so myself.. you’ve started to fall in love with didn’t you?

Sumire- …love…? I am sorry but.. I do not understand… please tell how I can understand your words…

2nd female student- she’s totally a robot reminds me of Siri on my phone.. *the girls pulls out her phone* ne ne Siri do you want a friend? I’ve got one for you right here! *the girl pulls sumires arm closer to her*

Sumire- ah…!

Siri- I do not understand can you please repeat that

2nd female student- hahahaha..!! See what I mean there like twins!

Male student- pfft…

Come one say something back to your knew friend..!

Sumire- …friend…? I am not sure what a friend is… uhm… hello.. I am sumire…

Siri- hello sumire how can I help you?

Sumire- this strange object spoke back…! Woah.. so amazing…

The four students- pfft… ahahahahahahaha…!!!

This so funny.. I wish I got that on recording.. ahaha…!

2nd male student- come now your guys are so mean.. haha.. to a hopeless girl no less.. haah.. but.. She does smell nice don’t you think? Like sugar mixed with spice.. I like it

Male student- yeah I kinda like the smell.. say give us a taste won’t you? You won’t mind

Female student- I’m sure she wouldn’t, she does everything and anything anyone wants her to so I’m sure she’ll oblige

Male student- that seems fun.. say let us have some fun with you *he steps closer then grabs sumire*

Sumire- uh… please do not touch me… I am not comfortable with you touching me… please stop that…

2nd male student- were only trying to have some fun with you.. I don’t see the big deal with it.. now.. Er.. stay still and let us have a drink I don’t think I ate enough for lunch

Sumire- please unhand me… let go… (…I do not like this… I do not want anyone to drink me at all… unless it’s… shuu-sama…)

*they don’t stop the two girls hold her laughing*

Sumire- … (..too many people are close to my body… I.. I.. uu..) I said… let go…

Male student- haah..? What was that? I can’t hear you

Sumire- …let go.. let go… stop… let go…

Female student- come on speak louder for the boys, they said they hear you! *the girl grabs sumires face roughly*

Sumire- gr… (…ow… I.. do not understand… what did I do..?! What do I do…!?) I said… let go…!!!!

*sumire hits the two boys in front of her escaping the two girls hold*

Sumire- haah.. haah…

Male student- gah.. fucking bitch.. she scratched my face..

2nd male student- she scratched my chest..

Oh your in for it now you bitch..!

Female student- tch.. and I thought you were some tamed dog who would Neal before there masters! I guess I was wrong.. go ahead do whatever you want with the fucking whore! Geez she ruined nudged her elbow in my face..

Sumire- Er… forgive me.. I.. I did not mean.. (…I do not… what.. what did I do…?)

*FLASHBACK ENDS*

Sumire- …. I am so confused… I simply just wanted to find Shuu-sama… (..that’s kinda how I got here though… but even so… I am not very happy how Shuu-sama missed his classes…. But..) mm…

(…maybe I should… find them and ask them what I did wrong… I want to fix my mistakes…)

*the door opens*

Sumire- ah…!

Oh.. hello Shuu-sama… I do hope you are doing good… it was not be good if you weren’t…

Shuu- ah.. why is it whenever I think something is wrong it’s either you or something with my brothers..? Haah.. why do I always seem to bump into you?

Uh.. hey.. what the hell happened to you? You look like shit..

Sumire- uh.. oh..! This.. I seemed to have made someone mad by a mistake I made… I am trying to figure out what that mistake was… I can’t seem to figure it out… but… it resulted in this…

Shuu- oh.. well that’s what you get for acting so stupid.. you reek of weak vampires though.. it’s burning my nose..

Sumire- …I am sorry… I did not mean to burn you nose…

Shuu- .. whatever.. I just came in here to take a nap but since your hear and injured I’ll just help you I guess..

Sumire- … really…?! Oh.. thank you very much Shuu-sama… I fixed up most of them… so you could help with my cheek and knee.. and-

Ah..——!!

Shuu- what? What are you freaking out for? I said I’d help you didn’t I? Be grateful

Sumire- ..but.. you licked.. my wrist… I do not think that will help it… at all..

Shuu- it should help a bit.. vampires heal fast and our saliva helps our wounds heal fast so I’m honestly helping you..

We’re you thinking something lewd..?

Sumire- …I was not thinking anything lewd at all…! It just surprised me is all… (…I did not know that… what a cool fact… I’m learning things everyday.. fufu.. amazing..)

Shuu- your face says other wise

Sumire- …my face can not talk unless I am using my vocal chords and mouth… hmph…

Shuu- getting feisty I see, not that I entirely dislike it

*lickkk*

Sumire- ..mm… (…although… it does feel weird… it tickles a bit…)

Shuu- move you knee closer to me

Sumire- ..mm.. (…this is kinda of… I do not know how to explain it… but.. my heart is racing…)

*rustle rustle*

Sumire- there…

*lickkkk*

Sumire- …epp..! (..that feels so cold…)

Shuu- haah… heh.. what a cute expression your making, are you aroused?

Sumire- ..no not at all…! It just feels cold… nothing more…!

Shuu- sureee.. *he continues he goes higher*

Sumire- ah… h-hey… please do not go any higher then that..! It seems as though you are finished…! *she pulls her leg back*

Shuu- heeh look at that face.. it seems like you want me to do that again

Sumire- …I do not…

Shuu- lewd girl

Sumire- …mm…

Shuu- what I don’t get “I am not lewd I am sumire” thing you say? Heh.. what the hell has gotten into you

Sumire- ..uh.. (…I do not know.. but you have been making me feel very strange as of late… and your teasing seems to making it worse Shuu-sama…)

..it would not be like this if you would stop doing that thing… you do all the time to me…

Shuu- hmm..?

Sumire- …uh.. (..I did not mean to say such a thing… sumire.., get yourself together..)

Shuu- you know.. I’m starting to sorta like this bold side when you let it out.. it’s sorta less annoying to deal with haha..

Sumire- ..mm… forgive me…

Subaru- oi..

Sumire- …ah…! Oh… hello Subaru-sama…

Subaru- tch.. both of you hurry up in here.. reiji is all over my ass and we’re about to leave if you don’t hurry up

Shuu- wow.. following that stuck ups orders like a dog.. amazing..

Subaru- shut your ass up! Lazy ass..

Shuu- yeah yeah..

*subaru leaves*

Sumire- …already..! Goodness… I did not notice the time… (…I seemed to have gotten distracted…)

*scene is outside school*

Reiji- both of you! Missed class once again! Seriously how do you think this does to me when you- what on earth happened to you..?

Sumire- …hm..? Oh..! I made people mad today…!

Reiji- don’t say that like it’s a good thing.. haah…

Laito- ah..! Poor bitch-chans beautiful face is all scratched and bruised..!

Reiji- whatever the case.. get in the car.. geez you really are a hassle

*walk walk*

Sumire- … (..hmm… I guess I could say sorry tomorrow..! I can not find her and those others at all… so tomorrow…! For now.. I just need to focus on getting these healed by tomorrow at least…

Haah…

——to be continued——

Maniac 3– maniac 5

[hannigramficrecs]

AU

Provenance by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 62,735]

A delightful AU about a rare book dealer, an owner of a high-end coffee shop, and murder. This does involve Hannibal Lecter, after all.

I Am Not A Morning Person by stratumgermanitivum [words: 14,852]

I Am Not A Morning Person opened at 4:30 AM. Usually. Their menu was obscene and ever changing, and they offered shots of tequila in their coffee to anyone with an ID. Hannibal fell in love with their grouchy baker anyway.

Fruitful by Everett_Harte [words: 11,629]

An AU where they both meet several years before the show, start dating, and get married. And bang, a lot.

Teen Hannibal Ficlets by emungere [words: 10,927]

AU where Hannibal never meets Lady Murasaki and is somehow found by Will Graham and Will raises him instead. As Hannibal gets older he becomes obsessed with Will and so Teen Hannibal tries to seduce Guardian Will who is just like oh god someone save me.

Ticket Pocket by geneticallydead [words: 1,669]

Hannibal needs a new tailor. He finds Will Graham.

Taste by emungere [words: 4,575]

Hannibal is a tailor (and may or may not also be a serial killer) and Will comes to him for a new suit.

Professional Help by xzombiexkittenx [words: 1,969]

There's a stranger in Hannibal Lecter's house, peering out the window through the scope of an L115A3 bolt-action rifle.

Black Rock Mountain by bokunojinsei [words: 23,964]

Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.

Lazy Coffee by lonelywalker [words: 1,104]

The baristas of Baltimore are dropping like flies. Why? Because they just can't get Dr. Lecter's coffee order right, and he's very particular. One day, an awkward young man with "Will" on his nametag changes Hannibal's life.

Page Six by ThisBeautifulDrowning [words: 66,839]

Crime reporter Will Graham's column on page six of the Baltimore Sun garners him the attention of many: fans, hobby detectives, the FBI...and others. Hannibal cut off a piece of meat with surgical precision. “I find your company rather engaging.” “Maybe I don't find you all that engaging.” Silence. Hannibal grinned. “I see that it will take more than one dinner to earn your forgiveness. Challenge accepted.”

How To Save A Life (The Cannibal-Friendly Handbook) by Kittendiamore [words: 3,463]

There’s a man looking up at Will, who has clearly been distracted from - Oh. Throwing limbs into the river. Human limbs. Lovely, he thinks sarcastically. Then he thinks it again because it actually is kind of lovely. The man looks confident. At ease with what he is. He’s kinda hot, too. Or: Will tries to jump off a bridge but ends up offering himself up to a cannibalistic serial killer...as you do.

Never Conquered, Rarely Came by thisisthefamilybusiness [words: 3,242]

Will is in an abusive relationship but can't see a way out - he's tried to leave before, but his partner is in law enforcement and always manages to track him down while pretending to be the understanding, forgiving, loving type. One day, Will stumbles across an ad in the Classifieds of the cleverly worded cannibal-seeking-fresh-meat-but-veiled-as-private-cooking-classes type, and decides to answer. Hannibal is pleased when his ad bears fruit, then surprised when his intended dinner apparently knows exactly what he's in for

Triage by ErisPhoenix [words: 5,469]

Cop Will and ER doctor Hannibal

The Ripper and the Black Dog by HigherMagic [words: 16,249]

A 'Mr & Mrs Smith' Hannigram story.

Money Where Your Mouth Is by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles [words: 3,792]

Will Graham is a dancer in a strip club trying to earn enough money to pay rent when he catches the attention of Hannibal Lecter, a man and a predator willing to pay any price for what he wants.

Late Shift by Sugarmouse [words: 4,307] 

Hannibal is nearing the end of his shift in the ER when one of the students makes a mistake with the dog bite victim in room four.

Our Stars are the Same by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened [words: 42,578] 

Someone's moved into the old creepy, supposedly haunted, mansion down the way from Will Graham and his family. Will never expects to befriend the new family's son.

Moorings Built on Sand by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened [words: 100,289] 

Will and his dad are moved to Germany for the foreseeable future and Will is surprised when he befriends a boy a few years older than him who seems to be mute.

Fix All My Broken Things by xstarxchaserx [words: 16,177]

When Will is introduced to Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the psychiatrist is only supposed to be a client for him, just a couple of small repair jobs and nothing more. Will isn't prepared to fall headfirst into feelings, operas, and murder, but there's something lurking behind Hannibal's cool facade. When Will discovers it, his entire life will change.

The New Boy by TigerPrawn [words: 11,904] 

(Hannigram + Spacedogs High School AU) Nigel recently moved to a new school after being kicked out of the last five he'd attended. He just wants to keep his head down and get through senior year so his parents will let him work in their profitable family business. When he's asked to play guide to another new student - strange little Adam Raki - he thinks he might have found help in passing his classes. If he can keep his mind on his studies around his new friend...

I'll Will My Wild Eyes Bright by HigherMagic [words: 24,398] ]

"You would do well to remember that people like you are best seen and not heard," Mason says sharply. "Our new friend is far less forgiving than I am, if the rumors are even half true." Will nods, and resists the urge to pet over his face and wipe Mason's scent away. "I want you to kill him, Will. Whatever it takes. Will you do it?" "Of course, Your Majesty," Will replies, nodding. "I am your humble servant."

Ero̱totropía by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 49,243] 

Will is 16 when he finds himself given to an older man to be mentored and apprenticed in the art of war and horsemanship. It is traditional, and all would be well, had Will not run his mouth to this particular general in the public baths not several hours earlier...

The Aesthetics of Pleasure by exarite [words: 2,056]

Hannibal Lecter did not watch porn. If he did, though, it would certainly explain why the man waiting in line with him looked incredibly familiar.

Out of Order by HigherMagic [words: 7,346]

Hannibal's car breaks down on a long road in the middle of West Virginia. In his quest to seek help, he ends up at an abandoned gas station, with a little house and a large barn. Living there is a man, Will Graham, who offers to take a look at his car and drive him to the next town so he has a place to stay. Hannibal cannot resist digging into Will's mind and personal life during the drive, learning that Will teaches remotely for the FBI, and in particular, lectures on the Chesapeake Ripper.

The One That Got Away by whatacunningboy [words: 4,694] 

Hannibal Lecter had this macabre air to his name. Everyone knew who he was and in what he specialized in—assassination was his trade and no one questioned it. He could make anyone disappear with a simple trick or two. He never missed a target, he was quiet, and swift. Yet, he missed the biggest target of all.

Ethics & Aesthetics by fragile-teacup [words: 106,330]

Pride and Prejudice omegaverse AU

Inconvenient by fragile-teacup [words: 69,621] 

England, April 1815. Hannibal Lecter, the third Earl of Raven, gets more than he bargained for when accepting a bet from a desperate man leads to him being saddled with the man's dilapidated estate - and son. Will Graham is eighteen, hot-headed, and unnervingly intriguing. As for Will, the idea of having to spend time with the person whom he holds responsible for his father's untimely death is anathema. And yet, when circumstances leave him with no other choice, he is forced to adapt. It does not help matters that Hannibal Lecter is most annoyingly attractive...

4 (25/25)