#i can already FEEL THE TRAGIC ROMANCE

[loverglittergift]

The Hobbit - Kili gives Tauriel his stone

Kotpota - Noa gives Mae his necklace

[milkbreadtoast]

started reading this one and there's only 11 eps out but it's really cute so far i like it... clicked on it bc the art looked rly good and IT IS i like the art style a lot and it's v well drawn... its also funny and i like the mc a lot shes cute?? obv 11 eps isnt enough to say much abt where the story will go but im enjoying it so far at least 👀... it feels like im watching a cute lighthearted anime haha.. ALSO LOOK HOW GORGEOUS THE ART IS

[end-orfino]

yknow what it's rare for me to look at a possible yuri pairing and decide i prefer the canon dynamic more. but when it happens. when it happens...

[robinyourcreator]

PERFECTLY NORMAL AND HETEROSEXUAL THINGS TO SAY TO THIS WOMAN YOU KNEW FOR A W E E K, MAX

[championari]

So I’m constantly thinking about Charles and how he could eventually meet Edwin with his feelings.

Here’s something I realized: Charles, despite constantly talking about things he miss, things he wants, he actually has a complicated relationship with desire as a concept.

How I would put it is by taking Supernatural as an example. There’s an episode in Season 5 where the boys meet Famine, a horseman of the apocalypse. However, Dean is not at all affected by him. It’s because due to being the older brother, and a Hunter, Dean was never allowed to consider acting on or even having desire for anything.

You can see where I’m going with this. Charles, like Dean, doesn’t actually believe he should want anything, due to “not being good enough”.

This is something actually touched on subtly in the show through the acting. When Niko says, “I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.” Edwin directly looks at The Cat King’s bracelet, while Charles stares off into space. When Tragic Mick describes Angie’s light as enforcing a sense of yearning, Edwin looks at Charles, while again, Charles looks off blankly (can’t access screenshots right now). Edwin knows what he wants but is scared of it, while Charles doesn’t know what he wants because he can’t allow himself to consider it. This gives an entirely new meaning to Charles’ hatred of the Cat King. A supernatural entity who describes his kingdom as being about “want and pleasure”. Thomas is the encapsulation of everything Charles was never allowed to have. Charles chases after things that he knows he can’t have, romancing a living girl despite knowing she will eventually leave. Charles can’t consider returning Edwin’s feelings because that would mean he’s been running away from what’s been in front of him the whole time. That what he wanted was always there, at his lowest point, when he thought he deserved it least.

Returning Edwin’s feelings means he was already enough. And Charles can’t imagine that yet.

While I would obviously adore an interaction between Charles and Desire of The Endless, ultimately I don’t think it would do anything. Like Dean, Charles might be completely unaffected by them because he’s spent most of his existence building walls around his desires. Edwin was completely blindsided by Thomas because he never even considered having to think about Desire due to having no attraction to women and that being the dominant narrative of his time. Charles pursues Crystal because he still wants to feel like he has a chance at “normal life” (which as I said is self-punishment by throwing himself at something he knows he can’t have). To accept that he’s in love with Edwin would mean no longer pursuing a living person. Edwin would be it for him, which he kind of already gets but it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Just like his death

There's also this exchange that drives me nuts:

"You gave up tranquil eternity…for your friend?" "Does that sound like someone who belongs in Hell?"

THIS. MAKES. ME. INSANE. Because Charles, like he always does when confronted with his own wants, completely avoids it. He doesn't respond to The Night Nurse's obvious confusion as to why he ran from Death, and instead turns the conversation back to Edwin. He makes it all about what Edwin deserves, not what Charles saw in Edwin that led him to make that choice. You could say this is practical as time is of the essence, but I think that's the point. Charles throws away the chance to explain his viewpoint on their first meeting, the consequences of his choice to run from Death with a boy he just met and knew for a few hours, and instead remains single-minded on Edwin's safety. Like when Edwin reasonably questioned, "Why are you getting angry?" when he began freaking out over Thomas getting close to Edwin, he says nothing.

There's just so much happening in that head that I can't stop thinking about.

[vifilms]

≛ LONELY IS THE MUSE!

❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞

feat. bodyguard!abby x famous actor!reader

warnings. eighteen+, suggestive nsfw content: reader fell first nd and abby fell harder, some angst, fluff, slightly coded fem reader, personal trainer!abby, just two idiots pining. i saw the discourse for some romance and i wanted to do my part. enjoy friends.

LONELY IS THE MUSE, entangled in an endless web of a high profile life, everyone waiting on you hand and foot, hollywood’s star in their prime — everyone needing a piece for themselves. yet the mysterious blonde who has not a clue to who you are catches the eye of the lonely muse.

wc. 8k

“You know you don’t have to stand this close to me.” Abby counters, but her words didn’t make you move an inch. Not that she really thought they would. Secretly, she enjoys your gentle touch. She likes how comfortable you feel around her. The downpour in New York has your arm entangled with her own, your hand gripping her bicep as she holds the umbrella.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to ruin my hair.” You replied gently, as you rested your head against her relaxed bicep.

“God, forbid your hair be in ruin, sweet girl.” Abby’s wet lips look inviting, especially when she’s smirking at you. Delectable, enticing, desired seeping underneath your soul as you try your best to keep them at bay. 

“Now that would be positively tragic, wouldn’t it? Just a paparazzi’s wet dream. Need my hair in ruins for them to get a handsome payday.” Abby shakes her head, the budding smile threatening to reveal itself. You can see how it grows, despite the effort she makes to disguise it. 

“I think you do enjoy my company. Paid or not, I bring some light into your life.” You play with the ends of her hair. The blonde feels a tingle pricking at her skin. She ignores it. 

“I can see that smile.” 

Better than anyone, Abby knows the gleam in your eyes is too dangerous to entertain, so she looks forward. It’s what she's paid to do, to keep you safe. Not to entertain some weird crush that will soon pass when you move on to the next actress, artist, or producer. She doesn’t need a reminder of how different your world is, she’s already abundantly clear on where the both of you stand. Worlds apart from each other, even if you’re leaning against her, the greedy hands of the public grab onto you first, mercilessly sucking the life out of anyone who enters your life. 

All it does is isolate you, making your life incredibly lonely. Trapped on the throne you built with your raw talent, but the industry is a double edged sword, as much as it appears to lift you up, it impales any sense of normalcy at a private, peaceful life. You take pride in these little moments you have with her. It’s the only time you get to have a taste of normalcy, even if you did have a bodyguard, which wasn’t entirely normal. Yet, Abby is a gentle reminder of a life she wishes to have. Someone who is kind, and loving; a soul that exists for no selfish gain, greed, or selfishness. 

Sometimes, you take advantage of it. 

Abby knows you crave physical affection. Ever since your messy break up, you’ve been finding any little excuse to justify it. Abby didn’t really mind at all. Even if she tried to deny it in her head, she’d miss it if you stopped. The incessant need you have to be close to her at all times, your essence bleeding on to her, suffocating her with everything she wants, but knows she can’t ever let herself dip into the deepest edges of you. 

Especially, not when you are still attempting to decode the wreckage of your last relationship. 

Abby hates seeing you like this, but she knew there was little she could do to help. All she could do is let you ride the wave of heartbreak, take in the silent tears hitting full cheeks, and hope it would all end soon for you. For now, she would allow immediate proximity.

You’re hurting. You need it.  

The first few weeks, even a couple months after, she expects it. Now it’s month four, and you were still touching her all the time. Lame excuses falling from your lips daily and Abby was sure you didn’t even believe them. She thought about bringing it up to you, establishing healthy boundaries before she crosses a line.

Yet, it feels…nice.

It felt good to be needed. The reason she had taken this job in the first place. It wasn’t what she had imagined for herself – a bodyguard of a famous musician. She jokes about it now, but it's a twisted fate for the two of you. Your eyes shine bright whenever someone asks, and you always take the lead.

Abby has always been more reserved, and your personality is as bright as the sun. She liked Abby the second she laid eyes on her. Not because she was beautiful or the most gorgeous human she’d ever seen.

Which she is.

No.

Her stupid pounding heart, the one she felt beating violently out of her chest, loves you, has no idea who she is.  She had thought possibly the blonde stranger was putting on a front, some did. They liked to conceal their intentions behind greedy eyes and malicious intent.

But Abby turned out to be different.

When a blossoming friendship turned into a job opportunity, it took Abby through a loop. It was the very last thing she was expecting from you. You’d kept her in the dark and when you announced exactly who you were, Abby really didn’t know. Never was she really a fan of social media, didn’t really partake in it unless someone was showing her the latest trend going around. She’s a little old fashioned but she likes it. It worked in her favor when it came to you. Unknowingly, for the first time since your fame struck as quick as lightning, you had the pleasure to befriend someone who had no idea who you were. 

As fresh as breathing your first breath of air, you took pride in the circumstance. Someone enjoying your company for who they are and not just for your social standing, fame, or most importantly the money. Before either of you could really even fully come to it, Abby has become such an influential person in your life, and then you were attempting to entice her with a job opportunity, and she accepted. 

You thought it would take longer and knew from the moment you had asked. But her life was uprooted by you, and she felt guilty about how much it fills her up with glee. 

In the last year, Abby became the only person worthy of your trust, the only one who would keep your confessions confined, not letting the secrets drip like cheap wine down the drain. Rather more as if she was out in the vineyard, carefully hand picking the grapes for the wine as she crafts it herself. Giving it the love, care, and attention it needs to flourish into fine beverage. From one sip alone, knowing she would crave for the taste. 

Getting to know you in ways some would dream of. Often, the mass of the public did, but you’re more selective who you let in your life now. Swiftly, you noticed how easily Abby listened. 

Listening and seeing you for who you are, not some strewed version the media made you out to be.  

She understood why you felt the need to and maybe why you felt comfortable with her. You spent time with her more than anyone. After two years together, she had learned every little detail about you. Where you liked to get your morning coffee, your favorite brunch spot, which bar you like to frequent when you had a night to give, which gym was your favorite, and to not speak with you until you’ve had said coffee. 

It’s these little things Abby remembers, constantly getting her in trouble.

When paparazzi are around, you always accept her hand as she guides you through the swarming crowd. Abby knows you despise it. How inhumane it makes you feel. You feel like an attraction, an object the masses had come to see rather than being viewed as an actual person. In these moments, you cling onto Abby the most. While she’s intimidating to all, there leaves a small exception for you, never has she once been anything to you more than just a sweet, gentle giant she wants close to her at all times. 

Her stature is standing a little over six feet tall. Her arms always looked too good against the tight fabric of her shirt. The one you grip onto as she is navigating through a crowd with you in tow, she’s always focused. The remainder of your team was behind you, while she was always in front of you.

At all times, protecting you.

But it was moments like today, you were grateful for. You blended with the hectic life of the city. You were just two people waiting at a crosswalk, waiting to get to your next destination.

Abby tries not to pay too much attention to how you’re squeezing her bicep, with a strong grip further indication you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

She supposes it’s better than feeling your hand in hers. There were times when Abby deemed it necessary. She would grab it whenever she needed to get you through from point a to point b, quickly. It made you follow her pace instead of lingering behind. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel with your head resting against her arm, your body so close to hers.

How was she supposed to act normally?

The rumors were already getting bad. You denied them when asked, and you did gracefully each time.

All Abby could think about if this moment was captured, it would be perceived as intimate. It felt like it was, but she didn’t want the entire world to see. Not when she felt the two of you walking this very nimble line of friends, something professional, and something more. She didn’t need thousands of eyes giving their two senses in a situation she didn’t even fully understand yet. All it took was one person to snap a photo if she gets too close to you. If her touch stayed on you for too long, or if she let the love reach her eyes. The ladder was the most difficult to control. It’s a part of her just as much as the air in her lungs.

This life is new to her. At times, Abby wondered if she’s biting off more than she could chew.

The only reason she’d left was for you. She had a small, quiet life. Abby’s life was very average, a cloud of normalcy hovered above her before the two of you met. A personal trainer full time and she resided in a cabin about half an hour from where she worked. She chopped wood to relieve stress, Her girlfriend liked it at the time, and she did too. She had her two dogs, and a darling kitten. 

She enjoyed the privacy. The isolated countryside her sweet family could reside in. Abby had built this life she was proud of, and it made her happy. For a time, it worked. She was genuinely content with where she was. There wasn’t a need to stress or control where her life was going. It felt like a huge relief. She tended to live inside her own head, not be present in what she has right in front her.

It had been months since she felt like that. It’d felt good and she was proud of herself for not succumbing from within and really coming to terms with what she had built around her. This was the most difficult route for her to take. To allow herself to be open, even if there was a chance of her falling.

Abby really should have felt remorseful for leaving it all behind.

Nora was sweet. The most caring partner she ever had, but there wasn’t much she could compare it to. Besides her, there had only been two, and she didn’t even count Owen. A long misstep until she landed where she needed to be. He did care for her, and he seemed to be more kind-hearted than most men, but the bar was set so low, he should’ve exceeded expectations.

And he did, in some areas.

Others, he fell more than flat but there was little to nothing he could do about it. Abby likes girls and he wasn’t one. Her sexuality shattered their relationship into a million pieces – leaving neither of them any option but to move on.

Nora felt real. This genuine connection she’d never experienced before. Abby knew it one year into their relationship. The pair had built this life together, one where she didn’t feel trapped in, and one Abby could be proud of. She felt acknowledged and loved Nora. There wasn’t a sliver of a doubt in her mind this where she needed to be.

She tells Nora when she needs space, and she isn’t ashamed of it. If she didn’t want to go out, Nora wouldn’t guilt trip her into it. Abby didn’t feel pressured to intertwine her identity with Nora just because they were together. Nora hardly ever gave Abby a reason to be upset. She showed up like partners were supposed to, even when Abby didn’t.

But it was a heavy weight to carry for Nora. Being her first serious queer relationship, Abby was left stunted in areas where Nora had to lend a helping hand. She never made Abby feel bad about it, but the two of them could feel the string keeping them threatening to snap.

Often, it frustrated Abby. To always be the one receiving help and never giving it. She didn't blame her partner, but she was left at a crossroad. 

She never understood Owen more and it really pissed her off.

To no fucking end.

But Nora was far more patient than Abby had ever shown. Maybe it was the testament to love or maybe Nora was just a good person and Abby is shitty. She had more patience than Mother Thersea herself, and it amazed her. Always guiding Abby with a gentle hand, never getting upset with her even when she let her anger shine through.

It makes her feel undeserving of a love she could never earn.

This pure and untainted love had never touched her before, and she’d never fallen this hard. Abby didn’t want to be anywhere but here. She really thought this could be it. Nora could be the one. They could get through those hardships together, right? 

Then you came and overwhelmed her like a tsunami.

She was running late, which was completely out of the ordinary for Abby. Instead of her neat braid, her sun kissed-blonde hair was in a low bun. Underneath her eyes was evidence of her lack of sleep. She hadn’t been getting any as of lately and the bags only seemed to get deeper.

Abby wouldn’t call the fights constant, but it sure did feel like it.

The back and forth, having the same fight consistently. Abby was more than frustrated. The biggest efforts she made were dismissed by Nora, even making her upset at times. She was trying too hard and being annoying, or not doing enough and then it meant she wasn’t present in the relationship.

Abby felt her stuck at a wall, Nora on the other side of it and she couldn’t hear a damn thing.

So, she was running late.

One of the many fights  they’ve had with each other as of late. Nora is tired of dealing with a “baby gay” as she likes to remind her in the heat of their arguments. Abby gets offended, her lips forming into an even deeper pout, her porcelain skin flushed in anger before she gives them both space. 

Contemplating about the future of their relationship in the shower, causing her to be late to work in the process. 

Astronomically behind – her client arrived at the gym she worked at half an hour ago. The most recent argument with Nora plagued her morning. All they seem to do is argue, trapped in what they both need from the relationship, but all the two of them could do is argue, argue, argue.

But neither of them makes a move. They are still as the eerie silence that carries them into questioning. 

It’s when she’s too inside her head, fearing about the future, when she violently bumps into you. Body colliding with yours, Abby’s stone-like build causes you to crash into the pavement, your belongings scatter along with Abby’s. 

“Fuck. Are you alright? Sorry, I’m in such a hurry, I’m sure I wasn’t even paying attention.” You let her pick you from the ground, she does with ease. She looks right through you and you expect the excitement, the excited tears, or to be asked for a picture but it never comes.   

“For a moment I thought I ran into a wall—” You giggle to yourself. “Really, I’m alright.” You spoke softly. You pick up both of your belongings that had slipped from both of your grips, returning it to its owner. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Abby asks again. 

You think it’s cute how much lace of concern is conveyed in her cerulean eyes, full of light and wonder, so beautiful it stops you in your tracks. 

“No no! I’m fine! Really don’t worry about it.” 

Honestly, you’re still in amazement she has no idea who you are. It makes your fondness of her grow even more. The two of you depart quickly, go about your day, and you think nothing of it until you go to unlock your phone to message your manager and it’s not a picture of the moon you’d taken during the eclipse, it’s the mysteriously hot and kind woman you’d run into before. 

Shit. She has my phone. 

Lucky for you, Abby was coming to the same realization. Ready to bring out the workout she had planned out for her first client, opening her phone to access where she had written everything out only to find this isn’t her phone. Well, fuck. 

Abby hollers at Dina to take over the client for a moment, excusing herself for a moment before retreating into the office to call from her direct line. 

Idiot Anderson. Now you get to make an idiot of yourself, twice. 

Way to go. 

She calls her phone and it rings a few times before the familiar voice chimes through the speaker, the one she heard this morning during her fit of anxiety. 

“Please tell me this is the woman I ran into earlier or else I’m going to be even more embarrassed for answering a stranger's phone.” 

“Well you’re in luck.” 

“Oh thank fuck—” You curse yourself before being so vulgar with someone who you didn’t even know. “Sorry! God, this is all my fault. I must have swapped our phones when I picked them up and didn’t even realize.” 

“It’s okay, really, if I was paying attention where I was walking this morning it never would have happened. Did you wanna meet?” 

“No! Let me. Please, this is all my fault. I should at least be the one who makes the drive.” 

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I don’t mind.” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Abby offers the address of work, thinking once after she does if it’s a good idea, a total stranger knowing where she works but she’s already giving the street name and suite number before she can even make her mind. Abby usually doesn’t get nervous but this situation has sent her into a frenzy, thinking about how dumb she could have been. Nora will get a good laugh out of it she thinks, then she is reminded of the fight the two of them were still in. She wonders if she’s even tried to reach out to her yet or if Nora’s just waiting until Abby’s anger rolls over. 

More favorably, the ladder. 

Until the two of them have the comfort of their lives, the cushion they have between their shared friends and the home they share twenty minutes out of the state, until it comes up again and they’ll be contemplating it all over again. Anxiously, the front desk girl, Bevs, the younger girl who has a crush on her, shyly comes up to her. 

Bevs says what she assumes is your name, confusing Abby in the process. 

“You know her?” 

“How could you not? She’s one of the most famous actresses ever.” Abby is stunned to say the least. Truthfully, she had no idea. Her lack of social media keeps her out of the loop and as much as her friends tease her about, if Abby knew who you were the first time around, she’s sure she wouldn’t have been able to say more than two words. Clearly, you’re a fresh face to her. Already, Abby knows Manny is going to have a field day when Bevs lets this information spill in her sheer excitement. 

Great, she thinks. 

“Oh.” 

“I put her in your office. Some of the clients were already starting to have questioning looks, putting the pieces together. Hey! Maybe they're as clueless as you.” 

“Bevs, go back to the front desk.” With a curt nod and realizing she has pushed too far, with a tail between her legs she retreats back to her post. 

Okay, Anderson, let’s get this over with. 

Abby smells you the minute she steps foot in her office. It’s not the usual pinewood scent the candle in her office radiates. There’s a lingering smell of lavender with just a hit of vanilla. It’s sweet as it engulfs her nostrils, she finds herself sniffling slightly, a silent beg for more of it. You’re standing the minute you’re aware of her presence. Painfully, Abby is aware of her lack of clothing. The tight sport jacket is left unopened, her black sweatpants, accompanied with her sports bra, abs on display as she watches your eyes examine her carefully. 

She’s not sure how to feel about it. 

There is a moment, a short one where your eyes go to her chest, the silver barbells constricting against the small fabric, clear as to what lies beneath. 

Abby does smirk at that. She’s only human. 

You keep staring at her for a minute longer, well it feels like one but Abby deems it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

“It’s really not a problem.” The more time goes on, the sweeter you are. “It’s pretty close to where I live.” 

Abby didn’t know it then but you were lying straight through your teeth. The trainer didn’t know you moved around your entire day to make the phone swap or the butterflies swarming your stomach from just how attractive and nice she seemed to be. There was something about her that sent your caution flying to the wind, drifting in the leaves with the rest of your pride. 

“Well I appreciate you coming out this way, even if it’s in your area. I really wouldn’t have minded taking the drive.” Abby pulls out your phone as she hands you yours. It’s simple, transactional, and it should have just been left at that but you had a fondness of putting your foot in your mouth. 

“Are you a trainer here?” 

“Uh, yeah. Been doing it for a few years actually. I spent so much time here already, now I get paid for it. Can’t really complain.” 

“Do you ever do private sessions?” 

“Um-” Abby scratches the back of her awkwardly, not sure if you’re asking her genuinely or if you’re trying to insinuate something else entirely. 

“Oh fuck no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just have a….job opportunity I have to get in shape for and you just look like you know what you’re doing.” Abby thought you might as well point to her physique but if anything she was flattered. It was always nice knowing something she’s been working on for years, her longest standing commitment besides Nora, is appreciated. 

“Sure, we could work something out.” You slightly smile before you exchange phones, this time on purpose, to put in the other’s number. Normally, she didn’t give out her number to clients, but Abby makes an exception for you that day. To this day, she’ll never outwardly admit why she did, not even to herself. 

- 

Two years later, she’s single from her life being turned upside down by you. The casualty being her own relationship, leaving Nora behind was one of the hardest decisions she’s made. Nora never agreed on Abby taking the job. As much as Nora wished for Abby to be more open about their endeavors, as soon as she accepted an offer that could drastically expand the trajectory of their life, Nora couldn’t be asked to compromise another thing. 

That was that. Not even two months into Abby working for you and Nora had called it quits. Abby never talked about it, only you knew she had a girlfriend she used to talk about when you began training with her, and then it was just silent. Back then, you didn’t know her well enough to pry, so you didn’t. 

Even as time passed, the two of you became friends through your employment, spending all your time with her during press season for your upcoming film, Lonely Is The Muse, together. Today was the only day you had off, even if it means Abby technically had the day off, you insisted that both of you leave the hotel and go out for the day. It's the most peace you felt during the European leg of the tour. Only one more day of dealing with your sensory issues, people in your face telling you when and where to go, or the distasteful question regarding your past public breakup instead of the work you were promoting. 

Some interviewers were kind enough to let the drama go but some wanted to get their own viral moment, waiting for you to say the wrong thing. As the industry likes to say, any publicity is good publicity. 

When you’re America's sweetheart actress of the century, such luxuries can’t be afforded. 

As your manager likes to remind you, there’s a reputation you have to protect. 

“Would you like to head back now? Long day tomorrow. Last day of interviews and then your flight leaves first thing in the morning.” 

“Did Stassie put you up to this?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.” 

“Mhm, your definition of fun is letting you do whatever you want.” 

“And the problem with that is?” 

All Abby can do is chuckle. 

“What do you want to do then?” Abby asks. She takes note of the sparkle in your eyes, as blinding as the sun but obtaining the serenity of the moon. “I’m all ears sweetheart.” 

It’s how the two of you end up here, a rooftop party, a friend of a friend you said. The party was lowkey, more than the typical ones you would get invited. Maybe because you weren’t in Los Angeles, Miami, or New York — but tucked away on another continent — or perhaps everyone here is just discreet. 

There’s only two fans that come up to you instead of twenty. You’re thankful for some sense of normalcy, one night where you can just feel normal. It still never gets old, people coming up to you as they confess the impact you’ve had on their life. It feels unbelievable at times but you’re grateful for the luxury life you’ve been granted. 

“Here. No liquor tonight.” Abby hands you a glass of red wine, your favorite beverage of choice when you couldn’t have tequila. 

“Yes Ma’am.” You playfully salute her. More than anything, you enjoy the not so subtle chuckle. “Not that I don’t love your company but isn’t Stassie supposed to boss me around?” 

“She felt under the weather. Plus, we both know you don’t listen to her.” 

“And I listen to you?” Your hand plays with her loose blonde hair, smoothing out the white button she’s wearing. 

“Yeah, you do. I wonder why that is.” Abby is playing with fire tonight. Possibly due to the fact that you wouldn’t leave her side, not even for a moment, keeping your body close, practically gluing yourself to her. Yes, she’s charged with keeping you safe and protected but it seems you find enjoyment bringing it to another level entirely. 

“You’re much nicer to look at, that’s all.” It’s light, a quiet whisper, not meant to be heard by anyone — not even for Abby to hear. “Don’t wanna make my handsome bodyguard upset.” 

Faking your pout as you let the words leave your lips, Abby chuckles as you get closer to her, her body standing strong as you push your weight onto her. Stoic as always, while you lean on her, she keeps her eyes peeled. Ensuring your safety at all times. 

“Flattery isn’t going to get you a shot tonight.” 

“I’m just stating the obvious.” 

Abby chuckles, again. She’s delighted you’re enjoying yourself, even if it comes at her expense. There’s a soft jazz song playing outside, couples dancing to the music, you zone out for a moment as you look upon one in particular. 

They are older, possibly in their forties, raven hair beginning to gray, fine lines crinkle when they smile at each other but it’s hard to take note of anything else but the way the couple looks at each other. Your mind wonders how long they’ve been together, if it’s been for years, months, a couple weeks. 

It doesn’t really matter. You just want that. 

The feeling isn’t lost on you, especially when you’re in the arms of the woman you love. For her, she’s being protective, doing her job but you wish it was different. A bubbling desire dripping off your tongue, a need to have her close to you but because she wants. Not because she’s paid to. 

“If I can’t have any tequila shots, god forbid, you have to dance with me.” You down the rest of your wine, placing the empty glass on the bar. “C’mon, you can give Stassie an earful later.” 

Pulling her towards the makeshift dance floor, Abby leads as your head rests against her chest. The steady, soft heartbeat soothes you, a reminder of the safety you feel with her. Caught in the riptide of her kind eyes and heart full of gold. It’s what makes her so unique, so loved, so her. With a surprisingly good tone, Abby sings to the music softly before twirling you around and spinning your body back to her. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Your hand rubs lovingly on her lower back as she holds you in her arms. You take pride when it doesn’t feel transactional. When she holds you and it feels as if she was meant to. There’s nothing else comparable to it, her frame melting into yours as your soul finds solace in her warm embrace. 

“There’s plenty of things.” Playfully, Abby smirks. 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure.” 

The sarcasm practically drips out of you as her smirk grows wider. 

“Can I ask you something?” You hesitate for a moment as you find her beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. It’s only then does everything troubling might dissipate while she holds you — secretly hoping it’s forever. 

“You can ask me anything.” 

You give yourself a moment to collect your thoughts as you move to the delicate beat. “Do you ever wish for a life where you could have had a normal life? I wonder if things could be different.” 

Immediately, Abby answers. 

“Not anymore, no, not for a second.” 

If it was even possible, Abby pulls you closer to her, not urging a word more. It’s how she is, cold and distant to some but they don’t feel the stutter in her breath when you’re near or the soft pad of her thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. Or the soft words of encouragement when you’re having a difficult day. 

They hear none of it. 

She dances with you for a couple more songs, before you find solace on the couch. You lay beneath the moonlight, your body cuddles into her side as you stare up at the sky. 

It’s lost on you how you’ve ended  with her, someone as kind and untainted as her, wanting to spend her free time with you, but you’re grateful for it. Whatever god you have to thank, you’ll get on your knees to praise their alter for bringing Abby into your life. She’s the best thing to ever happen to you and she doesn’t even know it. Albeit, she hardly knows the extent of how wonderful she is. 

“Why here?” 

“It’s a good night, nice weather. Why not?” 

A question with a question. It’s the most straightforward answer you’ll ever give her. Innuendos for the sweet girl to piece together, but with the soft circles being drawn her stomach with the pad of your finger leaves little to nothing to decode. 

“It’s nice, yeah.” 

Abby always has so little to say but her mind swarms with a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea and a million of why this is where the constellations in the jaded sky have led to you. Straight into the pits of innocence, a heart that’s been hurt more times than she can count but still as golden and whole as one could be. 

“What do you think of Italy?” 

“It’s nice.” 

“Nice? That’s all I get?” 

Abby smirks but her body stills when you play with the waistband of her trousers before gliding back to the security of her abdomen, carving the liner of her defined abs. The ones she tries so hard to cover up, but you saw on the very first day you met her. 

“Do you want more?” You ask, an eyebrow raising in suggestion. Abby knows it’s a double edged sword, one she doesn’t want to be injured with. 

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” Cautiously, Abby warns. “I’m not sure that last drink was a great idea.” 

You rest your head on her sternum, sapphire eyes looking down at you as her hand finds home on your waist, the blunt of your nails scratching softly at her stomach. 

“They always seem like a great idea at the time, don’t they?” With a gentle hand, you caress her scarred cheek, the pad of your thumb gently tenderly kissing the freckled skin. Outlining the softness of her jaw with your left, while your right one refuses to leave her stomach. 

“I don’t see how anyone would ever want to leave you.” Abby hums, not giving you much to go off of, tight lipped as she’s always been. The Nora situation has always been on your mind. One day, Abby’s speaking of her like she’s the love of her life and the next? Abby stiffens so tight when you bring up her name you promise yourself to never speak of it again. Until now, almost two years later, you’re more curious than you have ever been. The fatal ending, not belonging to you, but still you paw for the answers with your greedy palms. 

“You can just ask me if you want to know. I can see the look in your eyes.” 

“What look? I don’t have a—” 

Abby tilts your chin with your palm, leaning into her touch as you often do. 

“Yes, you do.” 

“How do you know this look?” 

“Hm.” Her thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “You’re just trying to get me in trouble now.” 

Your tone shifts, your eyes become transcendent, more crystal clear than they’d been all night. 

“What happened between you and Nora?” You ask, treading lightly on the ground you’re skating upon, in fear the ground beneath you might just crack if you apply too much pressure. 

“Why is it so important to you?” 

“It’s not that it’s—” You face plant into her chest, giving yourself a moment to breathe. Fuck, even her chest smells good. 

“You don’t ask about anything unless it’s of value to anyone. You don’t waste time, you’re very adamant about it. Painfully so.” Blonde eyebrows relax as she closes her eyes for a moment, but her touch on you soothes you. It’s gentle; a somber comfort bleeding into blissful joy. 

“But I’ve spent a lot of time with you.” 

“Yes, you’ve spent a lot of your time with me.

Abby opens her eyes to see you, your head tilted to the right, as you look upon each carve of her angelic face, the one that could only be carved by the gods above, resembling an angel on earth. As pure as the snow with the biggest heart of gold you ever have had the pleasure of knowing. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t say a thing.” You smile slyly. 

“We didn’t break up because of you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Abby sighs, “You’re not some homewrecker. My home with Nora was already wrecked before we met.” 

“Are you just saying it to make me feel better?” 

“No, I’m not.” You play with the ends of her golden hair, it hurts to be this close to what you want but knowing it’s so clearly out of your reach, league even, all of it will end the same. “Nora wasn’t fond of her being my first relationship with a woman. It caused a ripple effect, me feeling like I wasn’t good enough and her feeling like she has to carry me in the relationship, emotionally anyway.” 

“Is that why you broke up?” 

“No.” 

“It was because of me.” You state, as a matter of fact, knowing there is no other truth to be known. With tears welling up in your eyes, an ache  in your heart, one that made you ache all over. The dread of the guilt weighing heavily on your heart, time and distance still isn’t enough for you to run from it. 

“It was a job that was a great opportunity. Alright? It wasn’t you, even if I hadn’t, we both wanted different things. I didn’t even realize it until after but I wasn’t happy. I promise, it has nothing to do with you.” 

What Abby didn’t know, you needed to hear her say those words. In the back of your head, a monstrous demon unleashes in your mind, telling you crashed her relationship. You were the problem and her inevitable doom, but she’s assuring you it wasn’t the case. 

“We hardly knew each other back then.” 

As pathetic as it sounds, Abby can’t imagine her life without you. 

“Yeah hardly.” 

There’s that look again, pouring into Abby’s soul as it eats her up whole, the gleam in your eyes begging for more. It’ll complicate things if Abby gets involved, she knows this, but it already seems like she is despite her best efforts not to be. 

“Did I do good? You always say you miss stargazing with your brother back home. I know it’s not as quiet as the cabin you have, but I thought it would be okay for now.” 

“The view isn’t bad, not one bit.” She admits as she lets you rub her abdomen, the goosebumps crawling upon her skin the more Abby lets you touch her as if she’s yours to hold. “Lev would like it. I’m convinced the kid likes you more than me now.” 

“As he should. I’m pretty damn amazing.” 

“He asks too many questions though.” 

“About what?” 

“I dunno…..things.” Abby retreats back into her shell, the layer of protection she uses to protect herself from getting hurt. Most of all, out of everyone the gods could torture her to be confused about, of course it has to be you. Everyone in your life is always begging for pieces of your time, pieces of your affection and bits of your time to suck you dry. Abby has always wondered how you juggle it all. It feels cruel to even think you would put her in the mix. 

Painfully, there’s nights like tonight, where she sees the desire swarming in your eyes — every part of her pleads to give in to the temptation. Give into something she’s never even let herself think about until the last few months. As thick as drywall, there was a barrier keeping her heart from you, one she kept to protect you and herself even. 

The absolute last thing she wanted was to wreck everything this has to offer. If she makes the wrong move, all of it can come crashing down on you…it’s the last thing she wants. Make you a martyr in her story, one she thinks and dreams of often but knows you’re too big for her to exist in your life. The circles you run in don’t even exist in the same planet, the same fucking universe if Abby’s being honest. 

“What things?” You pout, your hand traveling south, caressing her thigh with a familiarity Abby wishes you didn’t have. She wishes for a lot but they never come true, that’s all you can be, a dying wish Abby curses upon a fading star.  

“It’s just stupid shit, not worth mentioning.” 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I—” You take a deep breath, your voice already shaky and you haven’t even told her yet. “I don’t think you even know how much you mean to me.” Abby isn’t sure where you’re going with this, terrifying her instantly. 

Have you finally had your fill of her? Were you gonna fire her? Now? 

“Lev doesn’t just talk to you about us.” 

“Us?” Nervously, Abby stomach clenches, unprepared for where this conversation is heading. 

“Why are you so scared?” 

Abby visibly and loudly gulps, almost making you giggle slightly. 

“I-I’m not.” 

The stonewall she attempts to hide behind but you won’t let her, not tonight. Slumping in the shadows, waiting for you to find someone else to love as she watches your happiness from a far, that’s what she allows herself. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Abs, look at me.” She meets your eyes, away from the constellations in the sky, afraid if she looks for a moment too long she’ll be stuck here forever. “Talk to me, m’right here, not going anywhere unless you want me to.” 

Instantly, Abby grips your hips, keeping you in your place. 

“No, that’s not—” 

“What?” 

“I’m not what you want. I’m surely not what anyone needs. Hell, I’ve only been with one woman which is deemed to be for not being enough, right? I’m the girl who came out too late, who doesn’t have enough experience but because I’m built like some fucking adonis I need to know whatever the fuck I’m doing but I don’t. I never know what I’m doing. The only thing I know how to do is protect you, that’s all I’m good for and I’m not gonna screw that up just because I—” 

“Because what?” Your pelvis is on top of hers, your face coming closer to Abby’s, watching as you are irrevocably close to her, closer than you’ve ever been, wet lips ghosting over her pouty pink lips. Abby doesn’t even know when you moved, how you got so close, too lost in her own head to register your movements. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Abby puffs out. 

“It matters to me.” You sink into her, further, if it's even possible. “No one matters more than you, alright?” 

“But there’s people.” Abby looks for an excuse to get up, she comes up enough so she’s sitting up against the armrest of the patio couch, holding your lower back as she does so, leaving you straddling her hips. 

“I don’t care. All that matters is you.” You push a piece of blonde hair away, seeing her beautiful cheeks more clearly, her shining blue eyes finding its unique path to your heart, the one especially made for her. “Here just let me talk, alright? You don’t have to say anything. Just listen.” 

Abby is nearly crying, practically purring as you run your fingers through her cascading blonde hair. It’s too much but not enough. Although she is sure of one thing, the one thing she wants more than anything. 

“I’ve always been one for pretty girls. I had a reputation around Hollywood, always chasing one after the next, never reaching my fill or as the tabloids like to say.” You chuckled half-heartedly; the wound cutting deeper than you would have liked. “My publicist having to pay paparazzi an obscene amount of money to get these photos from ever hitting online, month after month, it was pathetic really. Just trying to fill a hole, one I didn’t even know how to fill.” 

“I didn’t know that.” 

“It’s not something I’m proud of and I never wanted you to see me differently but I’m not ashamed anymore though. I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been since I met you.” Abby falls silent, her cheeks turning crimson before she can try to hide it “You not knowing how I was, it's just the humbling I needed. Not to mention you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen— you still are— but you had a girlfriend so I kept my feelings silent. Something just felt different with you and then you were single and I was afraid of you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I didn’t want to ruin you so I made a promise to myself. I would never start anything with you, not unless I was in love with you.” 

“You love me?” 

“It’s impossible not to.” You sigh into her, forehead pressed against hers, her strong hold not letting go. “You don’t have to say anything or do anything. I don’t expect anything in return. I just can’t live in a world where you think because you’re not experienced as some, you think you’re less than people who are.” 

“It’s true, I’m not there with everyone else and it shows.” 

“Abby, you’re not getting it.” 

“Well, no shit. I’m not good enough for any of this, you especially.” 

“It’s not…” You bite your lip as you reach for her hands on your waist, intertwining them with your own. “Abs, it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” Your lips ghost over her lips again, but this time Abby inches closer, her breath warm as it hits your mouth. 

“What?” 

“If I was a patient person and waited for you.” 

More than before, Abby’s breath is heavy as the rise and fall of her chest is rapid, trying to calm herself down but it’s impossible when you’re this close. It’s a lot for her, maybe she’s overly sensitive, but your touch is practically lighting her on fire. Abby wonders if it will ever be able to be put out or if your magnetic touch will leave her scorned. 

Puppy eyes inwardly pleading for an ounce of your touch, so sweet as she supports your weight with her strong thighs, anchoring you to her — never quite letting go. A single glance detrimental to the layer of protection she built around herself. 

“There’s no more waiting, m’right here.” Abby closes the gap indefinitely, lips connecting with yours as they move in perfect harmony, as if this is what she was made for. Involuntarily, she whimpers in your mouth as you gently tug at her bottom nibble at her bottom lip, your tongue sliding in as it dominates her own. It happens too quickly — the way her very being melts into you. 

Like honey to a bee, there’s nothing that’s ever been so sweet. 

This is all you need. 

“Abby?” 

“Yeah, angel?” 

“Let’s get out of here.”

taglist: @brackishkittie @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @lizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @skzhoiic @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf

[bradleysass]

St. Mungo's - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 696 - CW: James has schizophrenia

James wakes up to the sharp scent of antiseptic and the muffled sounds of the psych ward at St. Mungo’s. The walls are white, too white, and the light above him hums just a little too loudly, like it's trying to whisper secrets only he can hear. He shifts against the stiff sheets of his bed, gaze unfocused as he scans the room.

And there he is.

Regulus.

James swallows, blinking hard, willing the image away. He’s not real. He never is. But the boy doesn’t disappear, only steps closer with that same careful expression, his hands tucked into the pockets of his robe like he’s trying not to startle a wild animal.

“Morning,” Regulus says, voice low, careful, as though he already knows the battle James is fighting in his own head.

James exhales sharply. “Not real.”

A flicker of something crosses Regulus’ face, but he doesn’t argue. He never does—not in the way James expects. Instead, he drags the visitor’s chair beside the bed and settles in, too steady, too sure, even as his hands tremble slightly when he rests them in his lap.

James turns his head toward the window, but the outside world is distorted, like he’s seeing it through a warped lens. He taps his fingers against his wrist. Four taps. A pause. Four taps. A pause. The rhythm keeps him grounded. He counts the taps, the pause, the taps again.

“You do that when you’re overwhelmed,” Regulus notes, like he’s making a casual observation rather than dissecting James' existence. “You’re trying to remind yourself what’s real.”

James’ jaw clenches. “That’s ironic, considering you aren’t.”

Regulus exhales, a quiet, measured thing. “I’m real, James.”

James laughs, but it sounds hollow even to him. “That’s what all the voices say.”

Across the room, Barty lets out a dramatic groan. “Can you two stop your tragic romance for five minutes? Some of us are trying to enjoy our psychotic break in peace.” He’s lounging on his own bed, flipping through a battered book with pages torn out, his fingers twitching like he’s considering setting it on fire just to watch the flames. Evan, seated cross-legged on the floor beside him, nudges Barty’s foot with his own.

“Leave them alone,” Evan murmurs, not looking up from where he’s absentmindedly tracing invisible patterns on the tile. “Not everyone is content in their madness like you.”

Barty grins, wolfish. “Madness is only a problem if you let it be.”

James tears his gaze away from them, forcing himself to look at Regulus again. The boy hasn’t moved, still watching him with the same patient intensity that makes James feel like he’s being dissected. But not in the way Healers do, with their prodding questions and potions that make his head feel stuffed with cotton. No, Regulus watches him like James is something important, something worth understanding.

James’ throat tightens. He doesn’t know how to handle that.

“If you’re real,” he rasps, “prove it.”

Regulus leans forward, slow and deliberate. “What would it take for you to believe me?”

James hesitates. There’s no right answer, no proof he could ever trust. The delusions are always so convincing. But still—

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he challenges. “Something the voices couldn’t make up.”

Regulus’ lips twitch, something like amusement, something like sadness. “Your first memory of me isn’t the first time we met.”

James stiffens. “What?”

“You think it was fifth year, in the Quidditch stands after a match. But we met before that.” Regulus tilts his head slightly. “When you were eight, you got lost in Diagon Alley. You were crying behind Flourish and Blotts, and I found you. You wouldn’t stop talking about how your mum was going to kill you for wandering off.”

James’ stomach twists. He—he doesn’t remember that. And yet—

A flicker of something. A shadow of a memory buried deep in the recesses of his mind. A small boy with grey eyes, quiet and serious, offering him a Chocolate Frog while they waited for someone to find him.

His breath catches. “How—”

“I’m real, James,” Regulus says again, softer this time. “You just have to let yourself believe it.”

[ankababy]

A Home

Part 2

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

After winning another game, you found two boys. Unconscious, bleeding, and kind of pretty too. Anyways, you were an angel, so you took them in, and now, they’re waking up in your fancy apartment.

(Wrote this thinking of not roasted Niragi but it doesn’t really matter, so it can be both before and after the beach, no actual romance just Niragi making moves to have fun, english NOT my first language)

The first thing Niragi registered when he regained consciousness was the feeling of something soft. Too soft. His brain, still foggy from unconsciousness, automatically assumed one of two things:

1. He was dead.

2. He was dreaming about being rich.

But when he blinked and his vision cleared, revealing a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a suspiciously clean marble floor, he realized something much more unsettling.

He wasn't fucking dead.

This was worse.

He groaned, shifting, and that's when he felt it—pain. A dull, aching pain everywhere. His body had been through some shit, and moving made him immediately regret waking up.

That's when he heard it.

A voice.

Calm. Unfazed. Judgmental.

"So you survived. Unfortunate."

Niragi's head snapped to the side. And of course. Of course. The first thing he had to see after surviving whatever fuck had happened was the one fucking guy he hated more than anyone else.

Chishiya.

That smug bastard was sitting up on the couch opposite him, looking as bored as ever, one arm draped over the backrest like he was on vacation. His expression was unreadable, but Niragi knew that if he had died, this dude would've been the first to loot his body.

"Wow." Niragi croaked, voice hoarse. "You're still alive? That's what's unfortunate.”

Chishiya didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Niragi like he was trying to calculate how much blood loss it would take to kill him. "Tragic, isn't it?"

"Deeply."

Before Niragi could force himself up and punch him, something shifted in the room. A presence. A sweet one.

"Good morning! You're finally awake!"

Both of them turned their heads.

There, standing in front of them, was you.

And holy shit.

You looked like you didn't belong in this world. At all. Too clean. Too soft. Too... nice. Like some angelic creature that had somehow survived this thing with sheer kindness and, possibly, black magic.

Chishiya stared at you with interest, already analyzing. Niragi, on the other hand, openly squinted.

"What the fuck?"

You smiled warmly. "Oh, I found you two unconscious and bleeding out, so I took you in and patched you up!"

Silence.

"You did what?" Niragi snapped. "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

Your expression didn't change. "Because you were dying."

"And?" Niragi looked deeply offended. "That's how things work. People die. It's the natural order of—"

Chishiya cut in. "What he's trying to say is that you wasted your time."

You blinked. "You think saving you was a waste of time?"

Chishiya gave a small, indifferent nod. "Correct."

Niragi scoffed, trying to push himself up, only to immediately regret it as pain shot through his body. "Ow, fuck—"

"You really shouldn't be moving that much yet." you said, stepping forward instinctively, only for Niragi to flinch like you were about to stab him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Niragi barked, pointing a shaky finger at you. "Back up, Care Bear. I don't trust this."

Chishiya exhaled, unimpressed. "Obviously. If you trusted this, you'd be dumber than you already are."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch."

You clasped your hands together, watching them. "So... you two know each other?”

Both of them immediately turned to you and spoke at the same time.

"No." (Niragi.)

"Unfortunately." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Giggled. Niragi stared at you like you were an alien, while Chishiya simply observed.

"Well, I'm Y/N." you introduced yourself, smiling brightly. "And you're currently in my home! Don't worry, I don't expect you to do anything in return. Just rest up until you're better."

Niragi, still processing, slow-blinked. "Okay. Yeah. Cool. But—why the fuck do you have such a fancy-ass apartment?"

You beamed. "Oh, I just found it! No one was left, so I took it!"

"...That's kind of fucked up."

You tilted your head innocently. "Would you rather I left it empty?"

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Stared at you. "Okay, you're too calm. This is weird. You're weird."

Chishiya hummed. "Agreed. People like you don't exist anymore."

You simply shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. You two looked like you needed help, so I helped."

Silence.

Then Niragi scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay, but I'm still not thanking you."

Chishiya leaned back, smirking slightly. "Obviously. You have no manners."

Niragi shot him a glare. "Neither do you, dickhead."

"Incorrect. I have excellent manners. I just choose not to use them."

You giggled again, and it was honestly disturbing. Niragi wasn't used to this—actual warmth. It made his skin crawl. He eyed you like you might secretly be a serial killer.

Chishiya, meanwhile, just looked at you thoughtfully. "So. What happens now?"

You smiled. "Well, now you both get to heal up in peace! And maybe eat something."

Niragi's eye twitched. "This is a trap."

Chishiya nodded slightly. "I second that. This is suspicious."

You pouted. "You think I saved your lives just to poison you?"

"Yes." both of them said at the same time.

You laughed. "You two are funny."

"No." Chishiya corrected. "He's just loud."

Niragi turned to him, jaw dropping. "Oh my god, do you ever shut up?"

Chishiya tilted his head. "No."

You just smiled sweetly. "Well, at least you have each other!"

Both of them physically recoiled at that.

"Fuck no." (Niragi.)

"Don't say that again." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Again. It was terrifying.

"So," you chirped, tilting your head slightly. "What are your names?"

Niragi and Chishiya both went silent.

Chishiya, to be fair, had already been silent—watching, listening, assessing—but Niragi? He was actively avoiding answering. You could see it in his face, the way his lips pursed slightly, the tiny furrow in his brow. He didn't like giving out information. Neither of them did.

But you? You were patient.

Chishiya, as expected, was the first to break the silence. "Chishiya."

You nodded, smiling warmly. "Chishiya." you repeated. "That's a nice name."

Chishiya hummed noncommittally, watching you. It was strange—his expression was almost completely blank, but you could feel his thoughts running at high speed, analyzing, picking apart everything you said.

That was fine. You were used to it.

Then you turned to Niragi expectantly.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you wanna know?"

You blinked. "Because I saved your life?"

"Tch." He looked away, muttering, "It's Niragi."

You smiled, pretending you didn't hear the hostility in his tone. "Nice to meet you, Niragi."

Niragi made a face, shifting uncomfortably. "You're really too nice.”

Chishiya let out a quiet chuckle, like Niragi being irritated was mildly entertaining. "Not used to kindness?"

Niragi shot him a glare. "No, actually. I'm allergic."

"Ah." Chishiya nodded in mock understanding. "That explains the rash on your personality."

Your eyes flicked between them, amused. "Do you two always talk to each other like this?"

"Yes." (Chishiya.)

"No, usually it's worse." (Niragi.)

You giggled. Niragi visibly shuddered. "Stop doing that."

"What?"

"That creepy little giggle. You sound like a horror movie.

"That's just how I laugh!"

"Yeah, well, laugh worse."

Chishiya leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're deflecting."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You smiled, unbothered. "So... how long have you two known each other?”

Chishiya barely reacted. Niragi, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated groan. "Too fucking long."

"Not long enough," Chishiya muttered. "considering you're still alive."

You just watched them bicker, your head tilted slightly in curiosity.

Chishiya was fascinating.

The way he spoke, the way he moved—there was control in everything he did. He gave just enough to keep the conversation going but not enough to actually reveal anything. You recognized it immediately.

You had worked with people like him before.

People who knew they were smart. Who didn't trust easily. Who lived in their heads more than in the real world. Who stayed five steps ahead, always.

You also knew that someone like him? He wasn't just naturally like this.

Something had made him this way.

You turned to Niragi next. And, oh.

It didn't take a trained professional to see that Niragi had shit going on.

But you were a trained professional.

And holy shit.

He was wound so tight. Every move was a defense mechanism—every word, every glance, every breath dripping with aggression. His hostility wasn't random; it was habitual. Built over years of... something.

You didn't need to know the details to know that he had been hurt before. Badly. Which was exactly why he was acting like this now.

Still, you didn't press. Not yet.

Instead, you just said, "You two seem... different."

Niragi scoffed. "No shit."

Chishiya's gaze flicked to you. "What gave it away?"

You shrugged playfully. "Just a hunch."

Niragi let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back into the couch. "So, what, you used to be a detective or something?"

You smiled sweetly. "A therapist, actually."

Silence.

"No." Niragi immediately sat up, despite the pain. "I'm out."

Chishiya's lips quirked in mild interest. "That makes sense."

You blinked at Niragi, concerned. "You shouldn't be moving so much yet—"

"No. No. I refuse to be psychoanalyzed."

"I wasn't going to psychoanalyze you." you said, smiling. "I mean, unless you want me to?"

Niragi looked at you like you had just suggested murder. "Absolutely fucking not."

Chishiya, meanwhile, was still staring at you. Thinking. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

A therapist.

That was new.

That meant you weren't just naive. You weren't just blindly nice.

You understood people.

Which meant you understood him.

And that? That was more dangerous than any gun.

You just smiled. "Well, don't worry. You're safe here. I won't make you talk about anything you don't want to."

Niragi narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. "For real?"

"For real."

"...Fine." He relaxed slightly, though he still looked deeply untrusting.

Chishiya, on the other hand, was watching you even more intently now.

"You're not what I expected." he admitted.

You tilted your head. "What did you expect?"

"Someone either stupid or desperate."

You laughed softly. "Well, I'm neither."

Chishiya's lips quirked again. "Clearly."

Niragi groaned. "Oh my god, don't start liking her."

Chishiya barely reacted. "I don't like anyone."

"That's what I'm saying!" Niragi waved a hand at you. "She's too nice. It's suspicious."

You just smiled. "I guess you'll have to deal with it."

Niragi muttered something under his breath, slumping back down. Chishiya simply watched you a little longer before finally closing his eyes, as if filing everything away for later.

You knew this was just the beginning.

But you weren't worried.

You had time.

Niragi was staring at the ceiling. Chishiya, ever the picture of nonchalance, had his eyes half-closed, looking as if he was two seconds away from slipping into a coma—not because he was exhausted, but because reality itself bored him.

"Are you two hungry?" you asked sweetly.

Nothing.

No reaction.

Not even a blink.

Chishiya didn't look at you, didn't acknowledge the question, didn't do anything besides continue breathing. Niragi, on the other hand, did react—just in the most Niragi way possible.

He scoffed. Loudly. Dramatically. As if you had just asked him whether he wanted to start a gratitude journal.

"You think we trust you enough to eat something you made?" he sneered.

You blinked. "Yes."

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Squinted at you. "You say that like it's obvious."

"It is obvious." You stood up, stretching slightly. "You need to eat to recover. So, I'm making you food."

Still, no reaction. Neither of them moved. Neither of them agreed or refused.

Fine. That was fine. You weren't expecting a "thank you" or a grand speech of appreciation. You could tell exactly what they were doing—creating distance, keeping their guard up, making sure they didn't owe you anything.

You understood. Really, you did.

But that wasn't going to stop you. So, without another word, you walked toward the connected kitchen.

Immediately, Niragi's voice followed you. "Wait, you're actually cooking?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck?"

You didn't respond, already moving to the stove. The pot on the burner was already filled—leftover soup you had started earlier, still warm. You reached for a spoon, stirring gently, the scent filling the air instantly.

Chishiya didn't move or react, but Niragi? His head tilted the tiniest bit, like he was trying not to be obvious about sniffing the air.

You had to suppress a giggle.

They weren't going to ask for food. Oh, no. That would be too easy. They were too stubborn for that. Which was why you weren't going to wait for permission.

You kept stirring, the rich aroma of the soup spreading. It had been a while since you'd made something decent—soup was simple, easy, comforting. You weren't sure what these two had been eating before you found them half-dead, but judging by how they looked under all the blood and bruises, it wasn't much.

From the couch, Niragi groaned loudly, flopping dramatically onto his side. "This is so fucking weird."

"What is?" you asked, not turning around.

"This." He waved a hand vaguely in the air. "You. Cooking. This whole 'let's take care of the random half-dead guys I found' bullshit."

You hummed. "Would you rather I had left you there?"

"Yes!"

A beat of silence.

Then Chishiya: "No, he wouldn't have."

Niragi snapped his head toward him. "Shut the fuck up."

Chishiya didn't even look at him. "You're still here, aren't you?”

"I can leave anytime I want." Niragi shot back.

Chishiya finally turned his head slightly, expression unreadable. "Then why haven't you?"

Niragi froze.

You hid a smile, still focused on the soup. That was interesting.

Chishiya wasn't just observant—he was ruthless about it. He had no problem pointing things out that other people would avoid saying out loud.

You liked that.

Meanwhile, Niragi—having zero rebuttal—just let out another frustrated groan and dropped back against the couch. "God, I hate you."

"Likewise."

They both hated each other. And yet... neither of them had moved.

You smiled to yourself.

You gave the soup another gentle stir before ladling it into bowls. The warmth of it curled through your fingers, and as you turned around, you caught them.

Both of them.

Niragi and Chishiya.

Trying so hard to look uninterested.

They didn't move. Didn't react. But their eyes flickered—just barely—to the steaming bowls in your hands.

You knew they were hungry. Obviously. Their bodies were recovering, their wounds were fresh, and it had probably been days since they'd eaten properly.

But they weren't going to say anything. Because admitting that they needed something? Admitting that they relied on someone else?

That was too much.

You smiled sweetly. And completely ignored their bullshit. You walked up to the small coffee table in front of them, placing the bowls down with a gentle clink.

"Eat." you said simply.

Silence.

Chishiya stared at the soup, then at you, his expression blank but his mind obviously racing.

Niragi? He just glared.

"I never said I wanted it." he muttered.

You just smiled. "I know."

More silence.

The soup smelled amazing. You could tell, because Niragi kept sniffing the air without realizing he was doing it. Then he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm just gonna eat it because you put it in front of me?"

"Yes."

His eye twitched. "You're so fucking weird."

"I've been called worse."

Then, with a dramatic, suffering sigh, Niragi grabbed the bowl.

Victory.

Chishiya? He didn't reach for his immediately. Instead, he just... watched.

Watched you.

Watched Niragi.

Watched everything.

And then, after a long, slow moment, he finally—casually, effortlessly—picked up the bowl and took a small sip. He didn't react. But you noticed the way his fingers curled slightly more securely around the ceramic.

He liked it.

He just wasn't going to say it.

That was fine.

You weren't expecting thanks. You weren't expecting gratitude.

All you wanted was for them to eat.

And now? They were.

You smiled to yourself and returned to the kitchen, humming softly as you cleaned up. Behind you, on the couch, Niragi grumbled under his breath, still half-muttering insults at Chishiya between bites.

Chishiya didn't respond. He was too busy finishing his soup.

By the time you were done cleaning up the kitchen, the two of them had nearly finished their soup.

Which, really, was hilarious considering how Niragi had dramatically refused the idea of eating anything made by you just minutes ago. And yet, there he was, scowling at the spoon in his hand

Chishiya, on the other hand, had barely made a sound as he ate. No complaints, no praise, just silent, efficient consumption like he was running off of pure logic.

Food = survival. No need to make a fuss about it.

You approached them again with your usual warm smile, hands clasped together.

"So," you chirped. "since you're both fed and alive, this place has plenty of bedrooms. You don't have to keep sitting on the couch all night."

Chishiya barely reacted.

Niragi, however, snorted. "Oh, do we not?"

"You don't." you confirmed sweetly. "I can show you some, or you can just go find one yourself if you're that fed up with me."

Chishiya's lips twitched at that. Just the faintest smirk. He liked the way you phrased that—the fact that you knew exactly how they were acting and didn't even take offense to it.

Niragi just clicked his tongue, leaning back on the couch. "Tch. Like hell I trust any of the bedrooms in this creepy rich-ass place."

You tilted your head, amused. "You trust the couch more?"

"I trust myself more.”

"You're literally injured."

"I'd rather sleep in a ditch than get comfortable here."

You shrugged. "Okay, the door is open too."

Niragi stared at you. "Are you actually kicking me out?"

"No." you giggled, "I'm just giving you options! You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't like being told what to do."

Niragi made a face. "Oh, fuck off."

Chishiya finally stretched his legs slightly, glancingat you. "How many rooms?"

"Enough."

Chishiya's eyes flicked up to the ceiling, as if calculating the space. His mind was always working—always analyzing. You could practically see the gears turning.

"Five." he guessed.

You beamed. "Close. Six."

"Hm."

Chishiya's gaze flicked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

A house this big? With this many rooms? Still fully intact?

It wasn't just luck. There was a reason you had secured a place like this. Chishiya was too smart to ignore that.

Niragi groaned. "Whatever. I call the biggest room."

You smiled, hands on your hips. "You'll have to find it first."

Niragi's eyes narrowed. "...Is that a challenge?"

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. "You don't even have the energy to stand."

"Shut up." Niragi grumbled, but didn't actually get up.

You laughed softly. "The rooms are all clean, and they even have actual beds. Fresh blankets, too."

Niragi rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're really selling this, huh?"

You smiled, unbothered. "I'm just being nice."

"Too nice." Niragi crossed his arms. "What's your deal?"

Your smile softened slightly, but you didn't answer right away.

Instead, you tilted your head and asked, "Do you think people only do things when they want something in return?"

Niragi hesitated. Which, really, said everything.

You just smiled. "You should go rest. Both of you. Your bodies need it."

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, standing up first. "I'll find one myself."

You nodded. "Go ahead."

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there for a moment, looking at you—not suspiciously, not threateningly, just... observing. Then, finally, he turned and disappeared down the hall.

Niragi groaned again, shifting to lay down on the couch. "I'll move later." he muttered.

You just smiled. "Okay."

And with that, you walked away, leaving them to their own devices. Because at the end of the day? You weren't forcing them to do anything.

You were just offering something they weren't used to.

A choice.

A home.

~

You knew exactly which rooms they had chosen.

It was easy.

You'd left all the doors open on purpose. So when two of them inevitably ended up closed—well. That told you everything you needed to know.

One belonged to Niragi.

One belonged to Chishiya.

And since you weren't in the mood for an argument right now, you decided to check on Chishiya first.

So, with a soft knock, you pushed the door open.

Chishiya was there, as expected, sitting on the edge of the bed. His posture was relaxed, but not lazy. A picture of calm, but never vulnerable.

His eyes flicked to you immediately when you entered. Always alert. Always watching.

You smiled. "Hey."

He didn't say anything—just gave you a slow, expectant look, like he was already calculating the reason for your visit.

You stepped further in, crossing your arms lightly. "I wanted to let you know that the shower works."

Chishiya raised a brow. He didn't look surprised, per se—just mildly intrigued, like he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

You continued, ever sweet, ever patient. "I set up a system with rainwater, and I got a boiler working with solar energy. You can take a hot shower if you want."

A pause.

Then, finally, he spoke. "You built that yourself?"

You grinned. "Impressed?"

Chishiya's lips curled just slightly. "Not quite."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Right. Because nothing impresses you."

His smirk widened a fraction. He wasn't denying it.

You sighed dramatically, shifting your weight onto one foot. "Anyway, just be careful. The system's pretty stable, but I still don't trust it completely. So don't do anything stupid and end up flooding the place."

Chishiya tilted his head, as if amused by the idea. "I'll try to contain myself."

"Please do." you said, voice sickly sweet. Then, without missing a beat, you added, "Oh, and—"

You smiled. Soft. Kind.

Too kind.

Fake kind.

"—don't even try anything. My door's closed."

Chishiya blinked.

Because you weren't just sweet.

You weren't just kind.

You were smart.

You knew exactly the kind of person he was.

And you planned accordingly.

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, the closest thing to a chuckle you'd heard from him yet. He leaned back slightly, resting his arms against the bed, studying you.

"You think I'd try something?" he mused, tone light, teasing.

"I think you're smarter than that." you replied easily.

A beat.

Then Chishiya's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Interesting."

You simply gave him one last sweet, angelic smile before turning toward the door. "Goodnight, Chishiya."

And with that, you left.

The door clicked shut behind you, and as you walked down the hall, you knew—knew without even needing to see—that Chishiya was still smiling to himself.

You were a smart girl.

And he liked that.

When you arrived there, you took a deep breath before knocking on the other door that was closed.

You knocked twice. A beat of silence, then—

A loud, dramatic groan from the other side.

"What now?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open.

And there he was—Niragi, in all his irritating glory, sprawled across the bed. One arm behind his head, shirt half-ridden up, legs spread out just enough to be annoying.

He squinted at you lazily. "Oh, it's you."

"Of course it's me."

He groaned again, rolling onto his side in the most dramatic way possible. "What do you want? I'm tryna sleep here."

You crossed your arms. "I came to tell you the shower works."

That got his attention.

Niragi blinked. "Wait. What?"

"I have rainwater stored, and I managed to get a boiler running with solar energy." You tilted your head. "You can take a shower. A hot one."

Niragi stared at you like you had just told him the sky was made of gold. Then, suddenly, he sat up—grinning, wild and sharp, like a fucking hyena.

"Oh, shit." he snickered, running a hand through his now let out hair. "You mean I don't have to smell like blood anymore?"

You sighed. "I mean, it's up to you."

He stretched his arms, cracking his neck. "Damn, maybe you really are an angel. Here I thought you just liked keeping dirty, injured men in your house for fun."

You gave him an unimpressed look. "Yes, Niragi. That's exactly what I do in my free time."

He grinned. "If you wanted me in your bed, babe, you could've just said so."

You sighed again, rubbing your temple. "That is not what I said."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I get it. Who wouldn't wanna sleep next to me? I'm warm, I smell good—"

"You literally just said you smell like blood."

Niragi ignored that. "—and I'd keep you safe all night."

You raised a brow. "You can't even stand up properly."

He grinned wider. "That just means I'd have to let you do all the work."

You leaned against the doorframe, tilting your head slightly, eyes glittering with something playful. "That's so cute. You think you'd survive me?"

His grin froze.

Just for a second.

Then, he laughed. Loud. Unfiltered. Amused as hell. He licked his teeth, watching you with way too much interest. "You like playing hard to get, huh?"

You shrugged. "You like losing?"

That hit.

That hit hard.

Because for the first time, Niragi actually shut up. Just for a second. Just enough for you to know that you had won.

"...Fuck." he muttered, almost to himself. "You're fun."

"I know." you said sweetly. "Now go take a shower before I change my mind."

You turned to leave—but of course, Niragi couldn't let you go without one last word.

"Hey, babe?"

You paused in the doorway, looking back.

He smirked. "Your door open, or closed?"

You grinned.

"Locked."

And with that, you walked away—leaving Niragi sitting there, grinning like an idiot.

~

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped into the hallway the next morning.

The air felt off.

It wasn’t a sound—because they weren’t making any. It wasn’t even an instinct, though you had plenty of that.

It was just that deep, unshakable feeling you got when you walked into a room and realized you were one second away from witnessing homicide.

And that’s exactly what was happening.

You turned the corner into the kitchen and—yep. There they were.

Chishiya and Niragi.

Standing there, dead silent, staring each other down like two wolves deciding whether they wanted to rip each other’s throats out before breakfast.

Niragi moved first.

Not towards you. Towards Chishiya.

One sharp, sudden step—his whole body tensed like he was about to fucking lunge, like he was about to do something stupid.

And Chishiya? Didn’t move an inch. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just stood there, perfectly still, perfectly calm, eyes half-lidded like he was already five steps ahead of this entire situation.

Which, knowing Chishiya? He was.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You cleared your throat. Loudly.

Both of them turned to look at you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are we committing murder before or after breakfast?”

Niragi snorted. “That depends. You making anything good?”

You sighed, stepping into the kitchen like you weren’t walking into a fucking crime scene. “Depends.” you said, moving past them to grab some supplies. “Are you two gonna be civil, or am I cooking while dodging bullets?”

“Can’t make promises.” Niragi muttered, side-eyeing Chishiya.

Chishiya, for his part, said nothing. Just shifted slightly, tilting his head, gaze dissecting.

Watching Niragi. Watching you.

You exhaled through your nose. Of course.

They weren’t going to make this easy. That was fine. You didn’t expect them to.

Instead of scolding them, instead of trying to force anything, you did what you did best.

You read the room.

Because here’s the thing—people like Niragi? They didn’t start fights for no reason. Not really. He didn’t wake up thinking, hm, who should I try to kill today?

No—he woke up looking for control.

And Chishiya? Chishiya didn’t wake up looking for a fight. But he sure as hell wasn’t backing down from one, either.

So this wasn’t just aggression.

This was posturing. This was two men who hated each other testing the limits of the space they now shared.

Which meant there was only one thing you needed to do. You needed to give them something else to focus on.

So you got to work. And most importantly? You talked.

Not to them, really. Just enough to keep them engaged without forcing them to cooperate.

“So,” you hummed, cracking an egg into the pan. “how’d you two even end up in that mess I found you in?”

Silence.

Niragi scoffed. “That mess?” He snorted. “Try a fucking bloodbath.”

You hummed. “Right, yeah, I noticed that part.”

Chishiya finally spoke. “Tch. Not surprising.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go—”

“I’m just saying,” Chishiya mused. “it’s not like you’re particularly good at self-preservation.”

“Fuck off, rat.”

You sighed. “Okay, so still not cooperative.”

Niragi gave you a shit-eating grin. “Aww, babe, don’t take it personally.”

You shot him a look. “I don’t. I just think it’s hilarious that you two can’t even answer a simple question without fighting.”

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’re not fighting.”

Niragi grinned. “Yeah, baby, this is just how we talk.”

“Oh, so this is bonding, then?” you deadpanned.

Niragi shrugged. “Something like that.”

You just shook your head, flipping the eggs.

It didn’t matter. They were calming down. They were still distant, still purposefully difficult, but that was fine.

You weren’t trying to fix them.

You were just making breakfast.

And in a world that had taken so much from them, that was probably the best thing you could do.

You let the conversation die out for a bit, focusing on not burning the eggs while the two grown, violent men in your kitchen continued their silent pissing contest.

They weren’t trying to kill each other anymore, but you could feel the tension, the way Niragi kept throwing sideways glances at Chishiya, and the way Chishiya pointedly ignored him like he wasn’t even worth the energy.

God, you were babysitting.

And yet.

And yet.

You liked them.

Not in a wow, what great, emotionally well-adjusted people kind of way.

More like a wow, these are the worst fucking people I’ve ever met and yet I kind of want to keep them alive kind of way.

Which was dangerous. So dangerous.

But you never did have much self-preservation.

So you tried again.

You flipped the eggs onto a plate, moving to grab some bread, and—casually, like you weren’t expecting much—asked: “So. You still didn’t answer my question.”

Chishiya hummed, eyes lidded, uninterested.

Niragi, on the other hand, sighed so loudly it was like you had just asked him to recite the entire history of the universe.

“What fucking question?” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “How you two ended up bleeding out in an alley.”

Silence.

Not the murderous kind of silence, at least.

Just hesitation.

Which meant you had them.

You pressed. Gently.

“I mean, was it a fight? Did you get jumped? Were you two just being dumbasses?”

Niragi scoffed. “The last one.”

Chishiya sighed. “Obviously.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You fought back a grin. “Okay, so what happened?”

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaning against the counter. “Tch. Got caught up in some shit.”

You hummed. “What kind of shit?”

Niragi grinned, sharp, mean. “The fun kind.”

Chishiya sighed. “The kind that almost got him killed.”

“The fun kind.” Niragi repeated.

You blinked. “You have a very different definition of fun than I do.”

He laughed. “What, you don’t like a little bloodshed?”

“I don’t like dying.” you said simply.

Chishiya gave you a slow, approving look. “Smart girl.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Guess we just ran into the wrong people at the wrong time. Shit happens.”

You tilted your head, thoughtful. “Shit does happen.” You turned, handing them plates of food. “How many days do you have?”

This was a test.

A subtle one.

If they lied, you’d know. If they refused to answer, you’d know.

Because you were a therapist.

You knew people

And right now, you knew that Niragi was stalling. Clicking his tongue, leaning back, making a big show of thinking about it.

“Hmmm.” he hummed, exaggerated. “Why do you wanna know, angel? Wanna trade?”

You smiled, too sweet. “No, but I would like to know if you’re about to drop dead in my house.”

Niragi laughed. Loud, sharp, amused as hell.

Chishiya, on the other hand, watched you. Studied you. Then, finally, he spoke “Seven.”

Your eyes flicked to him.

And there it was.

Honesty. Cold, simple, factual honesty.

Chishiya had seven days.

You looked at Niragi expectantly.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. Five.”

You clicked your tongue. “You should be more careful.”

Niragi snorted. “What, you worried about me, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, turning back to your own food. “I just don’t wanna clean up a corpse in my living room.”

Chishiya huffed out a quiet laugh. Niragi grinned.

You let the conversation settle after that.

They weren’t cooperative. Not really.

They didn’t trust you. Not completely.

But they answered you.

And that was enough.

For now.

Because you had a plan.

Because right now, in your apartment, you had two wild animals sitting at your table.

One too smart for his own good.

The other too reckless for anyone’s good.

And you were about to leave both of them unsupervised. On purpose. Because you knew exactly what you were doing.

You grabbed your bag, casually tossing a few supplies inside—knife, flashlight, extra cloth, some food. Nothing crazy. It wasn’t going to be a long trip. At least, it shouldn’t be.

Niragi was watching you.

Not subtly.

At first, he just glanced. Quick, uninterested, shoving food into his mouth like a fucking caveman.

But when you grabbed your coat?

When you slung your bag over your shoulder?

That’s when he actually looked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh… babe?”

You hummed, fixing the strap. “What?”

“Why the fuck are you getting ready like you’re about to head out?”

You blinked at him. “Because I am?”

Silence.

“The fuck do you mean you are?”

Across from him, Chishiya didn’t react much. He just tilted his head slightly, observing. Like he was just as curious, but not as dumb as Niragi, so he wasn’t about to react like a fucking child.

Niragi, however, had no such restraint.

He squinted at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You sighed. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“To find some supplies.”

He scoffed. “Tch. You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re seriously leaving me and—” He gestured vaguely to Chishiya. “this asshole alone in your house?”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “You’re a child.”

“And you’re a rat.” Niragi turned back to you. “Seriously, you’re leaving?”

“Yes, Niragi.” You threw some light, pretty pink clothing around your shoulders. “I need to go out. I need supplies. I need—” You waved vaguely at the door. “shit.”

He scoffed again. “Tch. What kind of shit?”

You shrugged. “Just things. Food. Bandages. Stuff to keep you two from dying.”

Chishiya hummed. “How responsible.”

“Right?” you quipped. “I should get an award.”

Niragi wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t happy either. Because despite the smug, cocky, overconfident asshole persona—there was something else.

Not concern, no. That wasn’t his style.

More like… uncertainty.

Like he didn’t like the idea of you going out there alone. Not because he cared. No, no, that’s ridiculous.

(At least, he’d tell himself that.)

But because in his fucked-up, messy, unhinged brain—

He didn’t trust the world.

And the idea of you walking out there, all soft and sweet and not a complete fucking psycho like him, probably didn’t sit right with him.

Which is why he leaned back in his chair, sucking his teeth.

“Fine.” he muttered. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

“The fuck is so funny?” he snapped.

You shook your head, still grinning. “You can barely fucking walk, Niragi.”

He bristled. “The fuck I can’t.”

You tilted your head. “Oh, yeah? Stand up.”

His eyes narrowed.

Chishiya actually smirked, sipping his tea. “This will be fun.”

Niragi ignored him. Instead, he grumbled, planted his hands on the table, and pushed himself up—only to sway immediately.

Yeah. That’s what you thought.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Go on.”

He glared. “I just need a second.”

“Uh-huh.”

Chishiya chuckled.

“You two are both fucking awful.” Niragi muttered, lowering himself back into the chair.

You smiled. Sweet. Almost mocking. “But I’m right.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

You exhaled, adjusting your bag. “I won’t be long.”

Niragi muttered something under his breath, and you almost asked what—but you let it go.

Instead, you turned to Chishiya. He was still watching. Quiet. Unreadable. Like he was picking you apart in his head.

You stared back. After a moment, you spoke.

“You gonna be okay here?”

He blinked once. “I should be asking you that.”

You smirked. “You don’t have to.”

His eyes glittered.

Just a little.

He didn’t say anything else.

You turned back to Niragi. “Try not to kill each other before I get back.”

“No promises.” Niragi muttered.

You sighed. Yeah, you figured.

Then, without another word, you grabbed your coat, pushed open the door, and stepped out, leaving them alone.

And you knew exactly what you were doing.

~

You had fully prepared yourself for the worst when you returned.

Maybe bloodstains on your fancy-ass couch. Maybe the kitchen completely destroyed. Maybe—just maybe—one of them lying dead in the hallway while the other stood over him. But, to your genuine surprise, the house was still standing.

And even more surprising?

So were both of them.

Chishiya was sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping through a book he absolutely did not own before today.

And Niragi—who you fully expected to have done something violent or reckless in your absence—was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging over the side, his whole body screaming bored as hell but refusing to admit he waited for you to come back.

They were separated, obviously.

Like two kids on a road trip who couldn’t sit next to each other without starting a war.

But they were here.

Waiting.

Which meant they had not murdered each other.

Wow. Okay. Good.

You stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind you. “Huh. You didn’t destroy the place.”

Chishiya didn’t look up from his book. “Disappointed?”

You snorted. “Surprised.”

Niragi let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Tch. Not my fault.” he muttered. “There was nothing to fucking do.”

You shrugged, setting your bag down on the table. “Well, good news.”

You started unpacking, pulling out a few cans of food, some extra bandages, a couple of bottles of water and a small, cute plushie. You placed it right on the coffee table, right between the two of them.

Silence.

Niragi squinted at it. “What the fuck is that?”

You blinked at him, deadpan. “A bear.”

He continued staring. Like he couldn’t process the fact that, after scavenging for supplies in an almost post-apocalyptic nightmare world, you had come back with a tiny stuffed bear.

Chishiya just hummed. “Interesting choice.”

You grinned. “I thought it was cute.”

Niragi made a face. “What, you gonna start collecting those now?”

“Maybe.” you mused, organizing the supplies. “Maybe I’ll decorate the place.”

Chishiya smirked. “Would be an improvement.”

Niragi snorted.

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

Chishiya didn’t even look up. “I’m just saying, the place is a little sterile.”

“Sterile?”

“You know. Too clean. Too perfect.”

Niragi stretched, cracking his neck. “Yeah, like a rich kid’s hideout.”

You huffed. “I like my place nice.”

Chishiya turned a page. “Mm. Suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes, finally plopping down onto the chair across from Niragi.

“Anyway.” you sighed. “I got supplies. Food. Water. Bandages.”

Niragi snatched a bottle off the table. “Tch. Took you long enough.”

You snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere to be?”

He smirked, taking a sip. “Nah. Just missed you, babe.”

You smiled. “Aww, how sweet.”

Niragi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You could make it up to me, you know.”

“Oh? And how would I do that?”

He leaned forward, voice dropping. Suggestive. “Ever heard of a stress reliever?”

Chishiya closed his book. Loudly.

You placed your elbow on the table, chin in your palm, and matched Niragi’s energy effortlessly.

“Hm.” you mused, tilting your head. “I have. You should try one.”

Chishiya snorted.

Niragi blinked. Then laughed. Loud. Sharp. Fucking amused.

You leaned back, stretching your arms. “Anyway. You two can fight over the bedrooms again or sleep out here, I don’t care.”

Niragi scoffed. “Tch. Like I’d share a room with this asshole.”

Chishiya smirked. “I wouldn’t subject you to my presence.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You liked them.

“So, Chishiya.” Niragi drawled, stretching his legs out. “Tell me something.”

Chishiya did not look up. Did not react. Which only fueled Niragi’s need to annoy him.

“If you’re such a genius,” Niragi continued. “how the fuck did you end up half-dead in a ditch, huh?”

Chishiya finally blinked. Slowly. Then sighed.

“Same way you did.” he murmured, flipping through the book again. “By not giving a shit.”

Niragi grinned.

“Oh, no, see, I wasn’t the one who thought I was better than everyone.” he said mockingly. “I wasn’t the one who thought I was too smart to get my ass kicked.”

Chishiya hummed. “No, you were just too dumb to avoid it.”

Niragi laughed. Sharp, amused, but not fucking friendly.

“Cute.” he smirked. “For someone who thinks he’s so fucking smart, you really do make a lot of mistakes.”

Chishiya finally looked up. “And for someone who acts like he’s the biggest in the world you sure ended up in the same situation as me.”

Niragi’s grin twitched.

Your head hit the back of the chair.

Here we go.

Because of course Niragi wasn’t going to let that go. “You wanna repeat that, rat?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Oh? Are your ears failing, too?”

Niragi sat up.

Even injured, even weak, even not at full strength, he still looked like he was one second away from throwing hands.

“You little—”

“No.”

Your voice cut through the air like a knife.

Both of them froze.

Not because you were loud. Not because you yelled.

But because you didn’t.

You were calm.

Too calm.

And that? That was scarier.

“If you two want to keep fighting,” you said, voice light, but firm. “then you can take your asses out of here.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms.

“You can either calm the fuck down,” you continued, sweet, but threatening. “or you can leave. I don’t care which.”

You watched them.

And you knew.

This was the moment.

If they argued—if they scoffed, if they fought back—then that was it.

They were leaving.

They’d be gone.

But if they stayed quiet—if they didn’t say a word—that was their answer.

That was them choosing to stay.

And for people like them? For people who never admitted they needed anyone, who never relied on anybody but themselves, this was big.

Chishiya sighed.

He looked back down at his book.

Didn’t say anything.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t leave.

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaned back on the couch, and mumbled, “Tch. Whatever.”

Didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t leave.

They were staying.

[a3therc0r3]

Boiling Blood

co-creator: @dragonspoems

summary: you wrote poetry during your time on Philos in your and Sylus’ own language; the poems found their way onto Earth and are now highly sought after, working to be decoded and being sold in auctions for billions. When Sylus learns about the poems, he immediately knows who wrote them, recognizing their language instantly. He has now made it his goal to hunt down as many of these poems as he can while simultaneously searching for you. 

content: sylus x f!reader, angst, past-relationship, pre-relationship, poetry, spoilers for sylus' myth

word count: 2,261

a/n: this is my first ever time posting on tumblr so i hope you enjoy!! i have some more fics coming in the near future(fluff, i promise-) also HUGE thank you to my amazing friend and collaborator @dragonspoems who not only wrote the poem in this fic but also gave me the idea for this fic!! go show them some love! this fic was also posted on ao3

first part is from sylus' POV

Appearances can be deceiving. For example, on the outside, one may see a violent lion, while on the inside, there is simply a shaking kitten. On the outside, one may see a calm, collected, well-kept man who sips occasionally on the venue-provided wine; swirling it around his glass in boredom. On the inside, his mind is racing, his eyes scanning the crowd and glancing back down to the list of goods. His knee bouncing as each item is sold off in a painstakingly long manner. Couldn’t they just get to what was important? What everyone was truly here for? Of course they couldn’t, you have to save the best things for last. 

Sylus watched as other guests whispered to one another, sharing rumors about the ancient writing that everyone was anticipating. They would lazily raise their paddles to pass the time, betting on a much less interesting artifact. A protocore here, a painting there, all while mumbling to their friends about the bits of this writing that had been released to the public. Hushed voices muttering about the beauty, the romance of the words. His beloved’s words. His. No one else’s. They didn’t deserve to read her literature, didn’t deserve to even attempt to translate their language. They didn’t watch from far away when she scribbled in a notebook. They didn’t know how her hands would smell of ink when she touched his face. They didn’t know anything and they never should.

Sylus’ grip on the list had tightened unconsciously to the point that his nails pierced through the paper. It had practically crumpled in on itself, his chest heaving as thoughts spun out of control. The masked twins beside him glanced at one another before leaning in slightly and whispering, 

“Boss? Are you alright?”

Sylus snapped out of his haze, clearing his throat and taking another sip of wine. The twins righted themselves and nodded, knowing to leave well enough alone. They knew better than anyone in here that hell was about to break loose the minute the poem was brought out. There was a high probability that it would end in bloodshed, considering how important this was to their boss; then again, there was always a possibility things could end in bloodshed with Sylus. 

After what felt like hours of waiting, the auctioneer finally grinned and leaned toward the microphone, 

“Now, ladies and gentlemen is the product that I have a feeling the majority of you are here to see. The antique poem is thought to have been preserved all the way from Philos,” guests leaned forward, their interests piqued, “Very few of these pages have been found, and even fewer have been translated from their original language. However, from what we can tell, these poems seem to be the story of beauty, tragic romance, the tale literally as old as time.” The man chuckled to himself, resting his weight on his hands placed on the edges of the podium, “Your faces tell me that many of you are already interested. Since these are so rare, I expect that there will be quite the competition, though we must ask that you all maintain your composure. Now, let’s start the bidding at fifteen million.”

Paddles raised instantly, calling out higher numbers on top of each other. Sylus crossed his legs and let his head rest against the back of his booth, his fingers turning the paddle over in his hand. He’d let them have their fun, wait until the cost had gone up before chiming in. 

“Fifty million from one forty-three, do I hear sixty? Sixty million anyone?” 

Guests continue to holler out their bids, waving their paddles impatiently. The auctioneer spoke a million miles a minute, pointing to each guest as he acknowledged the prices. Sylus remained silent until the bids had risen into the hundred millions. 

“One hundred and seventy million from Mr. Abrams, we are getting up there, ladies and gentlemen, do I hear eighty?”

Sylus raised his paddle, “Two hundred million.” His voice boomed above the others, a few turning to look at the unfamiliar vote. 

“Two hundred million! From Mr…” the auctioneer moved to spot him through the sea of heads, taking the microphone with him, “Mr. Sylus! Such an honor to have you here, sir! Two hundred million from Mr. Sylus, do I hear two hundred and ten? Two-ten, anyone?” 

A paddle was raised. So, they wanted to keep fighting? Bold move. The bidding continued, raising to two hundred and thirty million before Sylus spoke once more.

“Three hundred million.” The auctioneer practically laughed, “Three- three hundred million from Mr. Sylus! Another decent raise! Do I hear three-ten?”

Another paddle raised, “Three-fifty million,” the voice chimed out.

“Three hundred and fifty from this fine lady! Do I hear-”

The man didn’t get the chance to finish before Sylus cut in, “Four hundred million.” The woman who had placed the previous bet, turned from her seat to glare at Sylus, earning a smirk in response. 

“Four hundred million! The heat is cranking up here! Do I hear four hundred and fifty million?” The man strolled to the edge of the auction block, grinning as he spoke.

A paddle raised.

“Four hundred and fifty million from Mr. Abrams! Do I hear five hundred?” At this rate, it would take an hour to get the poetry. All Sylus wanted was something to remember her by, anything from his past life to cling onto while he searched for his beloved. Something to keep him sane in the meantime. He’d indulged them for long enough and now his patience was wearing thin. Sylus raised his paddle once more.

“One billion.”

More guests turned their heads, whispering to themselves as to why the leader of Onychinus would want a piece of poetry so bad. The auctioneer clapped dramatically, trying to excite the room, even though he had asked for the opposite moments prior. “One billion! Now that is an offer of the century. It’s going to be hard to top that, folks.”

“One point two billion.” The man from earlier–Mr. Abrams–raised his paddle, eyeing Sylus as he did so. 

Oh, so that’s how you want to play. Sylus held his paddle up before the auctioneer could even point to Abrams, “One point five.”

“One point seven.”

“Two billion.”

“Three.” 

The auctioneer chuckled wearily to himself, “Gentlemen, please, wait a moment for me to-”

“Ten billion.” Sylus carefully put his gun on the table, pointing the barrel in Abrams as he crossed his arms. His right eye glowed with such intensity that it made Abrams shiver on the spot as if Sylus could kill him with a mere stare. He probably could. The twins unsheathed their weapons, a silent warning, and had the man closing his mouth before he could voice another offer. It was time to shut up. Mr. Abrams turned back to face the auctioneer, placing his paddle down with a hmph! His wife muttered something bitterly to him.

The auctioneer let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, “Ten billion from Mr. Sylus! Do I hear any higher offers? Anyone? Ten billion, going once, going twice? Sold to Mr. Sylus for ten billion! Congratulations, my good sir!” 

He continued moving on with the next item, but Sylus couldn't care less; he had gotten what he came here for. He rose, taking the last swig of his wine and placing his gun back into its holster. With a flick of his hand, the twins stepped back, allowing Sylus to walk towards the backstage area. A few guests stood to block his path, turning to him with pleading gazes.

“Mr. Sylus, surely I can offer you a much better deal to take the poem off your hands. I could even pay you back the ten billion you lost!” A man stepped forward, his hands clamped together as he spoke.

A woman beside him scoffed, “Please! You don’t even have half that amount,” she stepped towards Sylus, purposefully bumping her shoulder against the man’s before caressing the Onychinus leader’s arm, “I can give you money and a good time.” 

Sylus grimaced in disgust, pulling his arm away as another guest behind him chimed in, “I’ll give you my first-born daughter! A-and any valuables you want!” 

“I’ll give you my daughter and my wife!” a voice spoke from somewhere in the crowd, quickly followed by a slap and a woman yelling in a foreign language. 

The first woman tugged at his sleeve again, “Mr. Sylus, please! Just reconsider and I’ll make it worth your time!” 

Sylus pulled his arm away for a second time and glared at the crowd surrounding him, a red mist pushed through the mob, forcing them to make a path for him. “You’re all pathetic, you sit here and let people piss on you without even the courtesy of calling it rain,” he strode through the swarm of guests that were still whispering offers to him, the twins following close behind him. The auctioneer seemed to be frozen in awe, unsure of how to proceed with the event. When Sylus reached the curtain that separated the backstage from the rest of the room, he turned to his henchmen, “Make sure they don’t disturb us,” and with that, he disappeared behind the fabric. 

The auctioneer let out a nervous chuckle, “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats so we may continue with our schedule,” disappointed mumbles filling the silence as they complied. 

Behind the curtain, Sylus had been led to a private sitting room, where he awaited for the staff member to bring him his winnings. The flickering glow from the chandelier cast warmth through the room, hugging him in a mellow embrace. He crossed his legs, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpet. He could be wrong, the poem may not be what he thought they were. It could all be just a coincidence, every ounce of his past life was truly lost to a wind he would never feel again. Sylus grit his teeth and glared down at the rug, thoughts racing. 

A knock on the door interrupted his pondering, the woman that had escorted him stepped back into the room with a smile, “Your purchase, sir.” She handed him a leather binder with gloved hands and stepped back against the wall. 

He waved a dismissive hand at her. She bowed, seemingly disappointed, “We thank you for your appearance,” and with that, he was left alone. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, opening the binder with a shaky hand. A yellowed and faintly crinkled paper sat in a sheet protector. With careful fingers, Sylus pulled the paper from its film, rubbing his thumb over the familiar texture. He had recognized the handwriting immediately–it had been ingrained in his memory for as long as he could remember–the poem was exactly what he had hoped it was: one written by his beloved. Biting his lower lip, he read her scrawls, 

It’s been years, and yet I still couldn’t explain the ache, from what I was, my very essence. It was painful to contain it. 

It hurts so damn much, going through days knowing what fools I am surrounded by. They don’t know anything yet, born with silver spoons in their mouths, not a gem in their eyes. 

I wished to be like them. Ignorance is bliss to the things I’ve seen, letting them take more–all they think they need. 

Yet his voice, a devil’s call, to grow back my claws, to be the one he fell in love with, to be the one I am, the one I unforgivably was.

I knew that call. I knew that need–the need that claws inside of mine–to let the world be filled with traitors’ screams.

Killing what was mine, forcing my hands into the fire of unbeknownst burning in his chest. 

I hated him, loathed him for it, for he knew who I was–a beast, a creature within that wanted their blood, wanted to dance on their graves for all the wrongs they have done. 

Something in my mind telling me he was, he is mine, and mine alone. He belongs. I belong to no one but us, and the spirits of our own, souls of the same kind.

They banished and looked away, laughed and smiled, celebrated the unbecoming of something that was mine and mine alone. 

Soon enough they will know. They will find what they have done, through my everlasting boiling blood. 

I cannot blame him for what he did, for it is as well the doing of mine.

Sylus stared at the paper, biting his lip harder, blinking rapidly to banish the tears threatening to spill. He took another breath, cleared his throat, and looked down at the initials that sat at the bottom of the page. Your initials. Because it was always you, and it will only ever be. The only one he would spend billions on to read a few lines of poetry. 

Sylus gripped the paper tighter as if it would disintegrate in his very fingers, the same way he once had, lifetimes ago on another world. He gazed up into the flickering light of the chandelier; his mind had been made up the moment the fragments of his soul had blown through that breeze so long ago. He was going to find you, no matter how long it took. He would wait centuries, traverse hellscapes, die as many times as he needed to, to find his way back into the arms of his beloved.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

[stevie-petey]

blurb idea? stug isn't having sex yet obviously but maybe dustin walks into bug's room while they're lying really close on her bed reading together and he flips his shit like OH MY EYES and they're like ...boy we're literally just sitting here. and steve's over for dinner and dustin refuses to look at him and claudia's like ok what's up and you're like literally nothing he's so dumb

i love dramatic dustin with stug so YES !!

enjoy <3

"so jo just rejects laurie? like, flat out, brutally rejects his marriage proposal after years of being best friends and basically already in love?"

"i mean, there are some nuances youre missing, but yeah. basically."

"what kind of sick book is this?" steve shoves the book away from him in disdain. his nose is scrunched up, offended, and you refrain from kissing it all better.

you fix a piece of hair thats fallen in his face as he lays next to you on your bed. "jo and laurie are tragic, i'll admit." your words are rough from reading for hours. steve always insists that you read the books for him, he claims youre better at it, but you know its because he loves the sound of your voice. "but its what makes the book so wonderful, dont you think?"

steve rolls his eyes at you. "your obsession with tragic romances concerns me. what, are you going to reject my proposal next? make me beg on my hands and knees for you?"

"technically you already did beg on your hands and knees for me-"

"wait, you didnt say youd accept my proposal."

with a sly laugh you clear your throat and bring the book back up to your face, continuing to read. steve stares at you as you read the heartbreaking words aloud, his eyes travel the length of your neck and the slope of your nose. the scene youre reading breaks his heart more than hed care to admit. youve been reading little women to steve for a few weeks now. he really thought itd be jo and laurie in the end.

lost in the way you voice lilts between jos soft rejection and lauries broken pleads, neither you nor steve hear dustin calling for you until its too late.

the boy barges into your room and nearly shrieks his head off when he realizes steve is in bed with you. "my eyes!" he cowers to close the door, covering his face with his grubby little hands.

"dustin!" you shout at him, throwing a pillow at him to shut up him. hes being dramatic, you and steve werent even doing anything. your boyfriend is lying next to you while you read him a long and horrendous breakup scene from a classic book. if anything, the two of you should be doing literally anything else.

steve rolls off your bed and lands on his feet in one fluid motion before running over to your brother. grabbing dustins shoulders, he shakes him to try and stop the screaming. "hey! alright, can you quit it?"

"no! you were-you-my eyes!" dustin scrubs at his face with utter turmoil. he hadnt even known that steve was in his house. normally the asshole makes his presence known, stops by dustins room to say hi. its why he barged in in the first place.

had dustin known hed walk into steve in your bed, he wouldve brought a goddamn flame thrower with him instead.

"we were reading, you moron!" youre next to steve now, desperately trying to quiet your brother before your mom asks whats going on. hes already bad enough, but if your mother finds out steve had been in your bed as well, thered be permanent hearing loss.

"read at your desk! thats what those damn things are built for!"

steve shoves his hand through his hair, agitated. "oh, and who are you? the desk police?"

"'desk police'?" you stare at the teen, disappointed. "thats the best you could come up with?"

"im under a lot of pressure right now. cut me some slack."

"i want you dead."

both you and steve turn to dustin, shocked and disturbed by his words.

"okay, thank you for sharing your feelings, dustin." awkwardly you pat his shoulder. at least hes being honest and open with you. "not necessarily what i wanted to hear, but im proud of you for sharing-"

"he wants me dead and youre commending him?"

"not now," jamming an elbow into steves side, you shut him up and focus on your brother again. "now, is there a reason you barged in or can we go back to reading?"

dustins grimace on his face seems permanent now. his nose is slightly upturned, his eyes distrusting. narrowing them at you, he takes slow, calculated steps back out of your room. "dinner is ready," he says tersely before leaving entirely.

"well, this will be fun." steve sighs, and you nod grimly.

dinner is not fun.

dustin doesnt look steve in the eye the entire time. he sits as far away as possible from the teen. when asked to pass the bread, dustin pointedly ignores steves request and throws a roll to you. the bread nearly knocks your mothers water over and shes finally had enough.

"goodness, dusty! what has gotten into you tonight?" she exclaims, settling the glass that threatens to spill.

mouth full of mashed potatoes, his eyes light up evilly. before he can even think about opening his obnoxious mouth, you kick him underneath the table. your foot connects with his shin and dustin wheezes mashed potatoes all over his meal.

"dusty!" your mother gasps, alarmed. she looks at you in concern while steve snorts into his glass of water. "what is going on with you three?"

"nothing, mom." grabbing the bread that was thrown at you, you pick it apart with your fingers and make a delighted sound. "dinner is lovely tonight, by the way."

"i love what youve done with the mashed potatoes, mrs. henderson." steve is quick to add, jumping in. he makes a whole show of scooping up the mashed food and shoving it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. "is there garlic in this?"

your mother, always easily distracted, claps her hands with joy. "why, yes! i wanted to try something different. do you really like it?"

"i adore it."

later that night you find yurtle the turtles mealworms underneath your pillow.

[rpgchoices]

About Davrin and his past (from the banter with Bellara) and more (SPOILERS)

Spoilers for the whole game!!

Davrin being the kind of person who believes he has an expiration death and should not get attached, only flirting and having flings, quick to start the flirting romance (one flirting choice and he already has the heart in the description)

"Thrill of the chase"

who calls himself a blade and believes he is ready to die at any moment and desperate for purpose

The way Davrin comes off is isolated, with purpose, slightly suicidal and harsh. In the banter with Bellara she asks a lot of questions about his Dalish clan (which he left because he felt constrained) and if he regrets leaving it:

and

(I promise I will make a compilation video of all the dalish banter)

So the core of Davrin's character is purpose and he chose the hunter + grey warden because of it. This banter feels quite lonely, if I have to be honest, and in another banter scene he also says (if I remember correctly) that he does not visit his dalish clan (a part from his uncle). It almost feels like a sunk-cost-fallacy. From his first quest we know that he left his clan, ended up broke and could not go back so he started hunting monsters but he needed purpose.

The second core of Davrin's storyline is that sometimes when he talks about Assan he is talking about himself. Assan is, in his mind, a sharped blade (arrow) who needs to quickly learn how to fight to survive (and in some cutscenes Davrin brings as justification the fact that this is how he learnt as well, on his own and out of necessity). So the whole dialogue about "can the nature of something change" is essentially about him as well.

It starts to change with Assan of course, we see him actually get attached to ONE thing for the first time ever. How do we know? First of all, he did not seem particularly attached to the two trainers, but second, he also says so in his romance dialogue:

And when Davrin is about to die (archdemon) the one thing he thinks about is Assan ("Give Assan a hug for me"). So yes, "The thril of the chase" was just that. He was flirting, he wanted to keep things casual and then "his nature" (or more like: the nature related to the purpose he had given himself) started to change.

His character arc goes from a sharpened blade with no attachment and eager to die for a bigger purpose, to someone who does not want to die anymore, who literally wants domestic bliss.

Which is even more tragic because he is one of the two characters who can die (and will die depending on your choices), which lead you to this scene where he says:

Also I am pretty sure all the other romances say "I love you" during the game (I think Emmrich during his personal quest), or during the romance scene pre-final fight. Let me know if I am wrong! Davrin's "I love you" scene instead is the literal last scene before the final battle (the one after you rescue Neve/Bellara).

Davrin's last cutscene pre-fight instead is pretty explicit (i think the most explicit one after Taash) and is mainly a reassurance about surviving the battle and the future.

So YES I love Davrin. Great romance, A+, wish it had more scenes in the middle, wish we knew more about his Dalish clan, but at least there is enough space between the lines and work on fanfics!!

[artbymesa]

I'm normal about the wizard I promise

Larian can't hurt me with Gale's slow burn romance if I contribute to the pain

From the line he gives us, it seems Tara did the thinking in the way of using magic items. So the idea that Mr. Hermit never considered asking this of a person didn't feel like much of a stretch 🤣

Okay but joking aside, this idea occurred to me and I just. Needed to exorcise it out of my brain. I knew it wouldn't leave me alone until it existed outside of me lol

As tragic as Mystra's charge is, as far as I can tell Gale seems to avoid reciprocating Tav's advances until he's given it since.... y'know, he might not be around much longer;;;

The way Gale shakes in camp absolutely wrecks me. And I wanted so bad to help him more between when the last item stopped working and when he gets the charge. To do something for him, even if it was a temporary comfort (maybe lose a spell slot or two that day from the cost of something like this?). Larian has already done so, so much in the way of camp interactions like the ones with Astarion (the mirror, the scars, etc) and I am so thoroughly grateful and impressed with what we already get but aeugh, I WANT it haha

Small cameo from @chocolatefrizz89's durge on that last page since this is a multiplayer run~!

[hamburgerndsprite]

Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 4

Note: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 (completed)

(Also, all the moodboards are edited by me therefore I request everyone not to repost them as theirs)

[OT7]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Yellow Lights by minniepetals

— pairing: bts x reader — genre: fluff, poly!au, office!au, established relationship — word count: 7.0k — summary: who would have thought your coworkers would mean more to you than you initially thought a year later?

➺ Love-Starved by Hollyhomburg

Pairing: OT7 x Reader, Jeon Junkook x Reader W/c: 7.0k Genre: Fluff, Smut Synopsis: "It's the little things that often lead people to fall headfirst into love. Jungkook's already fallen, hard. And the boys? they might not have fallen yet, but they can feel the pull of gravity."

➺ BTS Yandere Masterlist [M] by Aris-ink

Genre: nsfw, dark content, Smut oneshots of each member

➺ One Wish by youarejesting

Pairing: BTS x Friend!Reader Genre: Fluff Words: 7.8K  Synopsis: “Hello, I think I have been kidnapped!”

{SERIES}

➺ Black Mamba by hoebii [ONGOING]

Pairing : OT7 x Hybrid! Reader Genre : Angst, fluff, Hybrid!Au  Rating: nc-17 Warning : Violence, swearing, mental breakdowns, weapons (mentioned), toxic thoughts, blood Parts: [12 Parts posted]

➺ Fairy Good by hoebii

Pairing: Tiny Fairy BTS x Reader Genre: Fluff, CRACK x100 Parts: 3/3

➺ Tiny Tan - Limited Edition ML by youarejesting

Pairing: Bts x Friend!Reader Genre: Fantasy, Comedy, Fluffy Fluff, Adventure. Summary: It is your first time buying proper merchandise, there are new chibi figurines and the first person to order will recieve a limited edition set. But what happens when BTS have gone missing without a trace and a few days later you receive your package. The box says congratulations, you open to find your limited edition figures, they look so lifelike. OH WAIT! it’s cause they are.

➺ No Doubt About It by hoebii

Pairing: CEO! BTS x gf! Reader Genre: Angst, Fluff Summary: They have doubts about your intentions and believe you may be a gold digger, prompting them to put you to the test. Parts: 3/3

{REACTION}

Asking for a threesome prank by dreamescapeswriting

Cockwarming by dreamescapeswriting

[KIM NAMJOON]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Heaven Can Wait by bangtan-spells

Pairing: Namjoon x girlfriend reader Genre: Romance, drama, Accident Au, Idol au Synopsis: Namjoon is devastated when his girlfriend is seriously injured in a car accident while he is on tour. A week later, he and his bandmates visit her in the hospital, only to learn that she is in the ICU so they cannot meet her. Tragically, that night, she suffers a cardiac arrest, leaving Namjoon and her loved ones in despair.

➺ Fishy Business by hoebii

Pairing: Jin x Reader (Platonic), Namjoon x Reader, Jimin x Yoongi Genre: Fluff, Crack, Hogwarts au Warning: Jin is a blobfish Synopsis: Amused, Namjoon asked Jin “Oh? And what might she be talking about all day then?” “You of course. She never shuts up about you, your pretty face, smart brain, sexy b-”  “OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH.” You quickly snatch up the small bowl you keep Jin in before you dart out of the class and speed walk away, face now beet red.

➺ Mall Santa by youarejesting

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jimin Genre: Soft boy Joon, Fluff, mistletoe kiss, cute baby bangtan visits Santa, Santa Joon, Elf Jimin. Words: 2.7k Summary: Being a mall Santa was hard so each Santa had two assistant elves, checking the schedule Namjoon saw he was working with two of the kindest and cutest elves that all the Santas wished they were paired with Y/n and Jimin. He is scared of tripping over his boots, knocking off his wig and beard and confessing his huge crush on the two of you.

[KIM SEOKJIN]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Soft by hoebii

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader Genre: Fluff, Crack, Established Relationship!Au Wc: 853 Synopsis: “I wanna touch your cheeks, they look really soft"

➺ The Devil's Advocate by jimlingss

➜ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader ➜ Words: 11.8k ➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Smut, Devil!AU ➜ Summary: The devil is a lazy. selfish. bastard. He never shows up for work and forces you to take his place at the gates of Hell. But when he follows you on your vacation — you have an inkling of his intentions. After all, you are his advocate.

➺ Kitchen Romance by jimlingss

➜ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader ➜ Words: 11.1k ➜ Genres: 95% Fluff, 5% Angst, Chef!AU ➜ Summary: You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors' ancestors were matchmakers and it's all because of a special, inborn gift. A gift that allows you to see each person's fated ones above their heads. But it's not so much a gift when one day, your boss walks in with YOU above him.

➺ Business Affairs by magicalsalamander

Pairing: BTS Jin x Reader Genre: Fluff/ Angst/ Smut/ Office worker/ Humor/ Enemies to lovers Summary: When the unexpected happens and here you are hours away from home your professionalism is put to the test. Jin, long time rival, always shows up at your worst moments. What happens when the world seems to be against you and the only one you know is Jin? 

[MIN YOONGI]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ The Sugar Wars by Hollyhomburg

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Intern! Reader W/C: 5.3k Genre: Soulmate au, Fluff, Brief Angst Summary: Maybe tasting everything his soulmate eats wouldn't be so bad if Yoongi’s soulmate didn't have the largest sweet tooth Ever. Maybe you wouldn't need to sweeten everything if he didn't drink his coffee so bitter. 

➺ Penguins, Concussions and Swear Words: A Love Story by dinoyoongi

PAIRING: Yoongi x Reader GENRE: Romance WORD COUNT: 7099 SYNOPSIS: You’re the mascot for your university’s hockey team - The Ulsan Penguins, and pathetically infatuated with a player from your team’s biggest rival. 

➺ Eight by cupofteaguk

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader genre: idol au, friends to lovers au | fluff word count: 5k summary: eight times Min Yoongi tells you he loves you 

➺ Bouquet by yooniivrse

pairing: yoongi x reader genre: established relationsip au, fluff word count: 1.3k content: oc buys yoongi flowers / my man is whipped summary. every day with you serves as a reminder that you are, in fact, the best thing that has happened to him

{SERIES}

➺ Stellar Behavior by lo1k-diamonds

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader WORD COUNT: 44.3k GENRE:  Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut PARTS: 8/8 SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.

[JUNG HOSEOK]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Learning Flights by bts-ot-7

Pair: Hobi x reader  Genre: Established relationship, angst, fluff, idol! au, BTS on a world tour WC: 1155 Summary: Tour life can be difficult and even the strongest relationships can be broken down when one is overwhelmed. Your attempts to voice your concerns about Hobi’s well-being were quickly shot down by the man himself. 

➺ Hot Rod [M] by kinktae

pairing: greaser! hoseok x waitress! reader word count: 10k genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff warnings: VIRGIN KINK, semi-public fingering, oral (f), brief handjob, unprotected sex, lots of banter summary: a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.

➺ Love at First Snow by vanaera

Pairing: dance major (and “academically challenged”)!Hoseok x Genius! female reader (College AU) Prompt | “You know, you remind me a lot of the Grinch. The only difference is in the end, his heart grows three sizes, but you stay an asshole.” Genre | Fluff, Humor, Angst Wordcount | 16.9k Synopsis | It is during the first snow Hoseok first meets Y/N. It is also during the first snow he prepares to put a ring on her. Little does he know, fate has other plans. (OR: As Hoseok relishes in the spirit of the Holiday season, he cannot help but also reminisce how you two, though entire polar opposites of each other, ended up together.

{SERIES}

➺ Jungle Park Series by jimlingss

► Pairing: CEO! hoseok x HR! reader ► Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Workplace Romance!AU ► Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

[PARK JIMIN]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Drabble by indgio

↳ genre: established relationship / implied idol!au ig? / fluff & comfort / a lil angst and a lil humour ↳ wc - approx. 700+ ↳ Summary: the one where jimin is not supposed to freak out but he freaks out anyway. ↳ Alternatively, jimin does not enjoy getting calls that let him know you’re in hospital, even if they give you chocolate pudding.

➺ Drown with me [M] by hoebii

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader Genre: Lifeguard!Au, Smut, Fluff Wc: 2.9k Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!) Warning: Cunnilingus, Fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, oc almost low-key drowns

➺ Antifreeze by winetae

—pairing: jimin x female! reader —genre: smut, pwp | college!au, ballet/Christmas au, alpha/beta/omega-verse —word count: 11.7k —summary: ‘Don’t sleep with your dance partners.’  For three years, Jimin has followed the above rule religiously. Who knew it would take a vengeful ex, a Christmas fundraiser, and a pair of torn tights for his resolve to crumble?   ↳ alternatively, Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

➺ A Work of Art [M] by missgeniality

➺ Pairing: Jimin x Female Reader ➺ Genre: PWP, Smut, Slightest Angst ➺ Rating: 18+ ➺ Word Count: 7.3k ➺ Summary: You surprise Jimin with his Filter outfit; and then some.

➺ Blessing and a Curse by btsmosphere

~pairing: Jimin x reader ~word count: 12.7k ~genre: college!au, magic!au, fluff, angst ~warnings: nightmares, house fire, knife injury, and blood, mentioned homophobia/biphobia, swearing ~summary: You are the unluckiest person you know. Park Jimin seems to be the exception to the rule. But when strange dreams start haunting you, Jimin begins to piece together the events that have followed you your whole life…

➺ Eleven by hongcherry

🕚 Pairing: Jimin x exGirlfriend!Reader(f) 🕚 Rating/Genres: NC-17; Angst, song-inspired, exes to lovers  🕚 Word Count: 5.0k 🕚 Warnings: Major character death, brief description of death scene (blood, body position, scene itself), pet names (kitten), car crash, not happy ending 🕚 Summary: “After you and Jimin break up to pursue your separate goals to achieve life’s success, Jimin tries to rekindle the spark that’s been flickering ever since the split.”

[KIM TAEHYUNG]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ Making Time by borathae

Pairing: CEO! Taehyung x f. CEO! Reader Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, married life! AU Wordcount: 772 Summary: “Christmas time has been pretty stressful for you and Taehyung. And so he decides that you and he should make time for some much needed tranquility.”

➺ Ruined [M] by taegularities

⋙ pairing: Taehyung x female reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: strangers to lovers; angst, fluff, smut ⋙Summary: “Does forever sound too long?” You first see Kim Taehyung at the office you’ve just started working at – and his eyes draw you in immediately. Quiet, powerful, and confident; yet he’s wrapped in a suit of secrets. A suit you want to take off layer by layer.

➺ You should see me in a crown by shining-on-a-sunday

pairing: prince/king Taehyung x servant reader warnings: yandere behaviors, sexual content, obsessive behavior wc: 3.5k synopsis: “You are going to hide anywhere you want in the castle, and I’m going to try and find you.”

➺ Under Wraps [M] by jungkxook

⟶ pairing: taehyung x fem!reader ⟶ words: 15,062 ⟶ rating: 18+ ⟶ genre: enemies-to-lovers / fake dating / fluff / smut ⟶ summary: there’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

[JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONE SHOT}

➺ The Probability Of Us by Jiminrings

pairing: college professor! jungkook x pretty student! reader wordcount: 6k glimpse: jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories. 

➺ How Long Will We Fall by Jiminrings

pairing: jungkook x reader wordcount: 14k genre: soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love (at first), a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, reverse cards that make u cheer, redemption arc, glimpse: if it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it. alternatively, jungkook’s your soulmate, but he doesn’t want to be.

➺ Staged For The Season by voyter

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader word count. 18.3k words genre: Fake Dating Au, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Smut summary: Going back home for the holidays meant facing his ex — the one he still couldn’t let go of. Determined to win her back and spark a little jealousy, he brought you along… as his fake girlfriend.

➺ Down and Down by kkukverse

pairing: MMA fighter! jeon jungkook x fem!reader genre: fluff,angst synopsis: “I would kill to see her again, but I would die if that ever happened because I broke her, Jimin. How could I see her when I’m the last person she would ever want to see?”

{SERIES}

➺ Four-seven-eight by Jiminrings

pairing: jungkook x reader glimpse: you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you. alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

➺ Beauty & The Geek by smoljimjim

Pairing: Geeky fastfood worker JJK x Rich barbie girl OC named Siri Genre: College AU, sort of strangers/friends to lovers, funny, fluff, angst, smut, happy ending (I plan on this fic being more funny and cute rather than angsty, but there will still be some angst of course) Parts: 20/20 Description: What’s an unpopular geeky guy to do when one of the most popular rich girls on campus starts trying to vie for his attention? Reject her, of course, ‘cause it must be some kind of joke and there’s no way they would work. Oh, and there’s also the fact that he can’t stand her.

[dalishious]

Why I Like Solas

So, I got a few asks questioning a) what I think about Solas’s plans and b) why I personally like him.

For that first part, I will direct you to this previously answered ask, as it’s all I am going to say on the matter until we have more information.

As to why I like Solas as a character…

I consider Solas to be an incredibly interesting, multi-dimensional character, in a way in which those multi-dimensions actually feel like they are reflective of the story. What I mean by that is, even with him set up as an antagonist, his demeanour throughout Dragon Age: Inquisition right to the end is dependent on the relationship the Inquisitor forms with him. In the confrontation scene in Trespasser, he carries himself entirely differently towards a friend, lover, or rival. This puts more emphasis on his shift in perspective on the modern world of Thedas, because of what a friend or lover Inquisitor teaches him.

Solas explains in Trespasser that he did not see people as real, but the Inquisitor proved him wrong. He is a character who is capable of changing, and I would not be surprised if he does in fact come to regret his goals in Dragon Age: The Veilguard to the point of giving up on them. We have confirmation that ‘regret’ is going to be a big theme of the game after all, and Solas is already primed for that, per the Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights story, “Callback”, in which Solas’s regrets are so powerful it spawns a demon in Skyhold.

Is Solas a tragic fallen hero? Is he a deceitful villain? He is both! In fact, I would say he is a prime example of an anti-villain – an archetype that is much rarer to see compared to its partner, the anti-hero. An anti-villain is a character with heroic goals and traits, but often their means of reaching for those goals are villainous… that sums up Solas pretty well. And what makes him such a good anti-villain, is that regardless of what role he plays in the story, he still has a tangible characterization that does not rely on him being The Antagonist. Solas is clever, benevolent, proud, solemn, intuitive, stoic, stubborn, deceptive, moody… And whether he acts as help or hindrance, you can still easily observe these traits.

Yes, Solas has flaws. For example, I do not like the way he calls Adaar “s*vage” – though at least in the same conversation, he acknowledges that he was wrong. But for me personally, the things I like about him outweigh the things I don’t like about him, and that’s why I can say that I overall enjoy him! And if he had no negative traits at all, people would complain he was boring.

Also, his romance is so full of sweet tragedy, and it’s really well done.

[discoonthegrass]

Watched The Search for Spock for the first time the other day, and wow this movie is such a tragic love story I’m in awe:

Kirk reflects in his personal log that he feels very uneasy, like a home without the children except even more empty (basically implying that even his “spouse” is gone)

Jim feels that he’s left the noblest part of himself (Spock is a part of him apparently) on the new planet

Sarek automatically assuming that Kirk holds Spock’s katra (why would he assume that if they were just friends)

“Your son meant more to me than you could know. I would’ve given my life if it could’ve saved his.”

Sarek essentially forcing Kirk to relive the worst possible moment of his life, and Kirk tearing up all over again

Jim saying he has a responsibility to Spock’s eternal soul “as surely as if it was his own” (if this isn’t admitting they’re soulmates idk what is)

Jim directly being told that if he goes through with this, he will never sit in the captain’s chair again which has always been shown as the most important thing to him, yet he completely ignores that and goes to warp speed because now nothing matters more than getting Spock’s soul to its resting place

Even in the middle of an intense confrontation with the Klingons, Jim’s face still betrays his hope and joy after he hears about the “Vulcan scientist [he’s] acquainted with”

Jim BLOWS UP the Enterprise instead of surrendering to the Klingons because he can’t give up on saving Spock now, and barely even mourns since he’s already lost someone more important

Jim demanding that Spock get beamed up and the Klingon captain refusing because he can tell how much Jim wants it/cares for Spock

Jim immediately rushing to Spock’s unconscious body and shielding it with his own, draping Spock’s body over himself in a protective “white knight” stance

Unlike everyone else, Jim is restless during the fal-tor-pan, wanting to be with Spock but being prevented from doing so and resorting to pacing instead

Jim not even asking about how Bones is faring but immediately wondering about Spock

“I had to do [it]. If I hadn’t tried, the cost would’ve been my soul.”

Sarek even points out that Jim paid with his ship and his son, but Jim genuinely feels it was worth it

Spock, having just been revived, is supposed to leave to get healed but is compelled to turn back — he cannot recognize any of them (not even McCoy who he literally cohabitated in the same body with) except Jim

Spock asking why Jim came back for him, and Jim responding “because the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many” (the reverse of the Vulcan philosophy—he’s saying it was illogical but he needed Spock back and Spock too needed him)

Spock parroting the “I have been and always shall be your friend” line, then finally identifying him as “Jim”

Jim’s face melts into the biggest smile ever seen on his face, even as he’s tearing up from joy

Suffice to say, I love this movie and will be considering it a romance with a side of action from now on.

[fluffypinkpillows]

This is take 2 of a headcanon post that somehow got deleted. (Thanks, tumblr…)

OKAY, SO. This morning I was reading Shadow headcanons, because yes, and I came across a Yandere Sir Lancelot headcanon post. Not gonna lie, I was a bit disappointed because it was more so just regular knight stuff.

BUT!! It gave me a thought. In the game there isn’t a character filling in for Guinevere, king Arthur’s wife (nor Mordred). So I was like… “What if Reader fills in for a Guinevere character?”

Because, well… Guinevere cheats on king Arthur WITH LANCELOT.

AND WHO’S SIR LANCELOT? YEEEEEE. SHADOW. So, this just fucking works.

I can hear people asking “isn’t that essentially betraying the king? Shadow is super loyal to King Arthur!” Well, yes. Even in the original tale Lancelot was extremely loyal to king Arthur, even though he was having an affair with his wife. Which doesn’t make too much sense to me but king Arthur does banish him for it and (tried to) burn Guinevere at the stake for the affair. (Honestly, the punishment does not fit the crime, even if she was eventually sent to a convent…)

I feel like, though, this would make an amazing fic! The original tale doesn’t really cover the affair between Lancelot and Guinevere much (that I know of) so really anything can be written lol.

Headcanons-wise.. lol we’re finally getting to that part. Since the characters are generally gonna be the same, I’m going to focus more on the romance between sir Lancelot/Shadow and Guinevere/Reader

Also, note, that I’m not gonna follow the original tale… like at all lol. I’m just going to be using some key points from both the game and the tale.

ALSO, NOTE, I HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING FROM THE GAME. I JUST REALLY LIKE LANCELOT SHADOW. My friend is gonna play through the game with me sometime soon so THESE HEADCANONS ARE SUBJECT TO CHANGE!!!

Firstly, Shadow/sir Lancelot had been in love with Reader/Guinevere since before king Arthur became king. (Here’s already a deviation lol)

Reader/Guinevere knew of Shadow/sir Lancelot, as he was one of the many guards Reader/Guinevere had guarding the castle home, but other than his attractive looks and mysteriously stoic personality she didn’t really give him much thought. He was just a knight to her, of course.

Of course, as with the original tale, King Arthur sees Reader/Guinivere and falls madly in love with her, much to Merlin’s chagrin.

Reader/Guinevere isn’t into the relationship as much as king Arthur is, which puts a strain on the two’s relationship. Being the king’s wife wasn’t what she wanted nor envisioned for herself.

Time passes by and King Arthur no longer respects nor dotes on his wife like he used to. He’s now yelling at Reader/Guinevere, berating her, laying his hands on her. The relationship has turned completely toxic.

Shadow/sir Lancelot can only watch the fights from afar, feeling horrible for what Reader/Guinevere has to go through. So, he decides to try to comfort her as best as he can, which is probably awkward at first.

This, tragically, creates a rift inside of Shadow/sir Lancelot. Should he obey his king and stand by his side at the round table? Or should he covet his king’s wife and pursue the love he has for her?

Why not the best of both worlds? Keeping his king’s wife’s company isn’t so much of a crime now, is it?

Because of Shadow/sir Lancelot’s chivalrous actions towards Reader/Guinevere she starts to see what she once wanted before she was married to the king… in him. She can’t help but want to be with her knight who has been with her since even before day one as queen and begins to develop romantic feelings towards Shadow/sir Lancelot.

The two end up forming an unspoken bond of love and companionship, sadly kept secret from the entire world.

I imagine a beautiful scene where it’s just the two of them in a field of flowers on a breezy, sunny day. They go here frequently to relax no matter cloudy or shine. Reader/Guinevere is crafting a flower crown, something she’s been practicing since she was a little girl, and Shadow/sir Lancelot is handing her flowers, a blush on his face. By the time she’s done she puts the flower crown on Shadow/sir Lancelot’s head and the two stare into each other’s eyes for the longest of moments before Reader/Guinevere flutters her eyes shut. Shadow/Lancelot leans in for a kiss that’s so tender and feather-soft you would barely even feel it if not for the warmth.

I hate being a romantic sometimes.