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exoticb-utters · 7 months ago

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Hello!

Sooo happy I found your blog! I’ve been absolutely loving your Hank McCoy stuff (and honestly allll of your writings)

I was wondering if you might have time to write something angsty- confessing love kind of thing for the reader and Nightcrawler? I’ve always been a fan of his. He always seems to me that he’d be touch starved, despite being so charming.

FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING FOREVER ON THIS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“Flufftober” series. 3 🎃 Kurt X GN Reader ‘Fluff’ Word Count: 1.2k

You stared at your ceiling. You couldn’t sleep, again. Try as you might, your brain wouldn’t let you get a wink tonight for some reason.

You roll over to your side with a huff, looking at your bedside clock. It was two in the morning.

You smash your head against your pillow with an exasperated groan. You’d been like this for the past few weeks, on and off thankfully- but it was still annoying.

You’d been under so much stress lately. Not just as an X-man, but a certain member of your team was driving you crazy.

It was Kurt, obviously.

The blue devil couldn’t stay out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to shoo him away…so you could at least get some shut-eye.

It was just so hard. He was so kind, nurturing, honest, passionate, and a goof- oh, you’re getting carried away when you should be sleeping…once again.

You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself like this, giving yourself false hope. He was friendly to everyone, that was just Kurt. And you were no exception, just another X-Men…just another friend.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes with a yawn. Fresh air and a good ol’ walk by the tree line should do you some good.

You quietly tip-toe down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone at this hour. However, it was unlikely for people with keen senses like Logan. But still, you tried.

After throwing on a pair of shoes and a jacket, you slipped outside through the back door.

You made your way down the grassy hills, leaves crunching underneath your feet as you made your way toward the forest. It was dark, with nothing but the stars and moonlight accompanying you tonight.

A brisk autumn breeze rushes past you, dancing through the tree’s amber leaves. It was so calming, just watching nature move.

You took a deep breath, the sweet smell of fall surrounding you. Just what you needed.

“Is everything okay Mein Freund?” A startling puff of air sounded behind you.

You jump, yelping while grabbing your chest with a hand. “Kurt!” You whisper-tell, coughing from the smoke trails he left behind from his ‘bamphing’.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” He said bashfully, flashing you his pointed canines in a toothy grin. “I noticed you sneak out alone- late in the night and I got worried!” He nervously chuckled, scratching at his neck.

You sighed, shaking your head with a soft smile on your face. “Oh Kurt, always worrying about others…”

“I just wanted some…air is all.” You add with a shrug, huffing out a laugh.

“Ah, I see…” He nods his head before looking up. “Well, it is a beautiful night out.” You hum with him in agreement.

“Would you like to join me?” You ask reluctantly. His yellow eyes shifted back to you, a gentle smile still lingering in his expression. “Of course.”

With that, you take his hand and pull him down to lie in the grass with you. You both land on leaves and soft grass, looking up at the stars littering the night sky.

While his gaze was directed upwards, his mind was freaking out over the fact you were touching his hand.

He’s never touched- held hands before. This was all so new to him. Was he freaking out right now? He was definitely freaking out. He was feeling too hot. No, it was too cold outside to feel that warm. There had to be something wrong with him. Was there something wrong with him? Oh God, he’s going to be sick.

“Kurt?” Your voice pulled Kurt out of his daze.

“Y-Yes?” He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Nothing, just thought I’d lost you there.” You chuckle, watching Kurt’s eyes dart between you and your hand.

You follow his line of sight before realizing your hand was still wrapped around his. “Oh! Sorry about that, forgot I was still doing that…” You release his hand, a little too quickly for Kurt’s liking.

His eyes furrowed in a frown. Did you not like holding his hand? It was a reaction he was used to, people not wanting to be around him because of his appearance. He was a mutant after all, and a very blue one at that.

“It’s fine…did that make you…uncomfortable?” He asked you softly, voice barely above a whisper.

You were taken aback. Had you hurt his feelings? This was all so confusing…

“No, I just..thought you didn’t want to hold mine…” You say, your gaze fixed on the stars, not having enough strength to look at Kurt.

“It’s quite alright, I do not mind!” He smiles at you, taking a hold of your hand. “W-well as long as you’re comfortable with it.” You say as nonchalantly as possible. There was nothing nonchalant about this situation right now, you were making physical contact with the man you’ve been pining for the past few years! You were freaking out.

“I actually…really like you if I’m being honest.” He randomly blurts out, his statement effectively getting you to shoot up and look at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, you don’t…feel the same, do you?” He states, rather than trying to find confirmation. He looks down at his hand still holding yours, disappointment written all across his features.

Before you can explain yourself, he’s gone in a puff of blue-purple tendrils. You cough, waving your hand to clear the smoke from his vanishing act. Nice, real smooth. You scared him off.

You get up, running to the mansion with nothing to lose…Well, other than sleep since it was late. But you had to find Kurt before he got the wrong idea.

You spot him in a tree, sitting on a thick branch with his tail leisurely hanging off the side. Was he really just gonna sit there like you couldn’t see him?

“Kurt!” You whisper-yelled, standing at the trunk of the tree.

“Agh, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night! Let me wallow in self-pity alone…please…” He trailed off with a groan, leaning his head back to hit it against the tree. “Alright I’m coming up there-“

“WAIT!” You stop your advances up the tree, raising a brow questionably at him. “I-I’ll just come to you…” He mumbles.

In a flurry of bamphs, he lands in front of you, his head hanging in humiliation. You let out a sigh before pulling him into an embrace. “What’s all this for?” He nervously chuckles, his arms moving stiffly to pat your back.

First the hand holding, now hugs. Kurt feared he might explode from all the warmth and affection from you.

“I like you Kurt.” You murmur, just loud enough for him to hear.

When you’re met with no response, you open an eye to peek at his reaction, just to find a purple flush blooming on his blue complexion. And when you advert your gaze downwards, you notice his forked tail swaying. That was adorable…

“This might be the best day of my life.”

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daenysx · 6 months ago

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Hey, I'm loving the sleepover so far!

Can I request a Remus Lupin x pregnant!fem!reader?

:))

thank you!! i hope you enjoy <3333

remus lupin x pregnant fem!reader

cw; pregnancy, morning sickness

"feel any better, dove?"

you might feel better, but you are exhausted, so you stay silent. your head makes a slight nodding movement without your control and remus relaxes. his thumbs draw loving half circles on your waist.

morning sickness is not enjoyable, not in the least. you still try to accept it as a part of meeting your baby. your eyes are droopy, you clean your mouth with a napkin and dream of brushing your teeth as your head falls back to remus's shoulder.

"i'm okay." you whisper. you're okay, you're just tired and you hate forcing yourself to leave the bed almost every morning to end up kneeling in front of the toilet. remus always follows you, he has his hands all over you to give you bits and pieces of comfort that you desperately need.

he kisses your head soundly. "you're okay." he says. you're okay and he's in this with you, you'll never be alone. he's trying to be less excited sometimes but the idea of being a dad is amazing. a tiny replica of both of you. remus imagines waking up to little squeaking noises and a small body in bed between you two. he's gonna kiss the hell out of your baby's cheeks a few months later, after the birth.

"are you ready to go back to bed?" he asks, gently. you nod, sitting a few minutes here to collect yourself is always a good idea, but your legs go numb after a while.

"i'll come after brushing my teeth." you tell him. "you go."

he does as you say after pressing another kiss on the side of your head. leaving for the bedroom, he lets in some fresh air in before you come here. it's not too cold, but he keeps the windows close mostly to stay warm inside.

you walk in with slow steps. you look better, with a clean face and a mostly genuine smile. remus makes room for you in bed, you're glad to be back to lying down. the pillows are fluffy under your head, you settle down next to him as his one arm wraps itself around you.

"we got through another morning, i think." remus says.

"what time is it?"

"almost 8." he answers. "you can sleep some more if you feel like it."

you don't know if you want to sleep more, you think just lying here and resting would be okay. remus's sleeping shirt has that scent of comfort, you put your nose on his skin and take a greedy breath. not to be weird or anything, but doing this grounds you so well. he pulls you closer.

"you're not being late for work, are you?" you ask him with your eyes half closed.

"no, baby." he answers. "i texted sirius that i'm gonna come around noon today. it's all good."

you nod. lying on your back, you stare at the ceiling with a loopy smile. remus puts his hand on your belly. he has warm hands.

"i can't wait to see our baby." he whispers.

"boy or girl, do you think?"

"i'm not sure." he replies. "what about you?"

"maybe a boy." you say. you don't know, you haven't got that information yet. the mystery is nice.

"sirius will insist we should name the baby after him." remus snuggles until he gets a kiss.

"and if james insists the same thing, we're gonna have to come up with a creative game between them." you say. "whoever wins gets to name the baby after himself."

"do you actually want that?"

"i don't know." you laugh. "it'd be funny to watch them fight over it, though."

remus agrees. he'll probably tell them it was a joke after their fight, but that's just for his own amusement.

dreamer girl sleepover ♡

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darlingdaisyfarm · 25 days ago

Text

★ happy birthday, Stanley. happy birthday, Mabel.

a/n: since my birthday was an ass, sorry, Stanley Pines, you’re going through it now too. sometimes you just gotta project your inner child grief into a nearly sixty y.o man and make him cry over birthday cake

june 15th smelled like buttercream, and Stanley woke up with his curls glued to one cheek and a dangerous amount of hope in his chest. they were ten now. well, he was ten now. Ford was ten fifteen minutes ago. big whoop.

”fifteen minutes older,” Ford mentioned, first thing, even before stretching. ”just reminding you.”

“ehh, fifteen minutes less wrinkly,” Stan muttered back, smirking into his pillow.

and Caryn even wore the pink lipstick today, the one she saves for anniversaries and fancy dinners they don’t go to anymore. Caryn always had a way of making her mouth look like something from the tv ladies Stanley wasn’t supposed to stare at. she kissed both boys on the crown of their heads and Stan caught a glimpse of her reflection in the toaster when she leaned over. she looked younger. she looked kind. he loved when she looked like that.

Ford had peeked into the kitchen when he heard the electric mixer, and he swore he could taste the sugar just by smelling it. and Stan had stuck his whole hand in the frosting bowl when no one was looking. his fingers were still kind of sticky.

“look at my boys! how did i get so lucky? happy birthday, Stanford,” their mom had said first. of course she had. Stan looked at his brother sideways, eyebrows raised. Ford beamed behind his glasses. “and happy birthday to you, my free spirited Stanley,” she said after, pulling him in with the same arms and Stan grinned so hard it hurt.

you grow in the same womb and fight over the same crayons and steal each other’s socks and build treehouses that almost fall apart twice a week. and somehow, it still feels like no one else in the whole damn world gets you the way your twin does.

the cake is a marvel. Caryn really went out this year. golden sponge with marbled blue and purple icing, like galaxies. and there’s strawberries. fresh ones! Stanley sat straighter, god he loves his mom so much it hurt. he can’t stop staring at it.

“make a wish,” their mom says.

Ford closes his eyes. he always does things by the book. Stanley squints one eye open just to make sure Ford’s not wishing for something dumb like a microscope.

they blow the candles.

and maybe it’s stupid or childish, but Stanley’s fingers curl around his own hunk of cake and he smushes it into Ford's face, sculpting a new little galaxy on his twin’s nose. sticky, pink, cold. Ford gasps and Stan’s scared he went too far.

but Stanford laughs, hard. wiping icing from his cheek with his knuckles and grinning so wide his gums show. “ohhh Stanley Filbrick Pines,” he crows, already scooping up his own piece. “you’re dead!”

they’re laughing so loud they don’t hear the footsteps at first. and it was too perfect. that was the problem. things don’t stay like that.

it hits like a slap in the middle of a joke. Stanley feels it in his stomach first. he’s still holding the plate and icing still covers fingers. Ford’s giggle dies in his throat.

“Stan. what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Filbrick’s voice isn’t loud, but it’s cold and Stan feels like standing in front of a freezer with no clothes on.

“just, mhm, playin,” he mutters, wiping his hand on the side of his pants. he can’t meet his dad’s eyes. he never can.

“pa, it was an accident,” Ford tries to explain, stepping in front of Stan like he always did.

“accident? i bust my ass at work all week, your mother spends hours on this cake, and this is how you act, Stan? throwing food? this is so disrespectful.”

Stan's tongue felt like wet cotton in his mouth. he wanted to explain. to say ”but pa, but Ford laughed, but Ford thought it was funny, nobody was mad.” but his voice felt too small and sticky in his throat. he watched his dad's mouth move, those bitter words that left bruises on the inside of a kid's ears.

“i didn't mean—“ but Filbrick’s hand sliced through the air, cutting off.

“you never mean to. that’s the problem with you. always screwing around. ruining things. this was supposed to be a good day, Stan.”

Ford tried again. “dad, but he’s not—“

“don’t interrupt me.”

Stan didn’t cry, not yet. crying was for babies and losers and he already knew his dad thought he was both. so he stood there, cake under his fingernails, and he didn’t cry. he ran.

ran past the bushes and the clothesline. past the lemon tree that didn’t grow lemons. ran with a sound in his chest that was worse than sobbing. to the treehouse. the little broken box they built together with bent nails and a hammer that Ford couldn’t lift right. the sign on the door says “DO NOT ENTER.” in red crayon. he made that sign himself and he meant it.

Shanklin is already waiting, curled in the corner, blinking up at him with those buggy eyes. he picks her up and she doesn’t squirm. she never does when he’s sad.

“i ruined it,” he whispers to her, voice shaking. “i ruin everything.”

he curls up next to her, knees to chest. cake still under his fingernails and dad’s voice echoing in his skull. happy birthday, Stan Pines.

you don’t deserve it.

Ford didn’t like the way the house felt after Stan ran.

the slice of cake his brother had dropped was melting sideways into the wood while Filbrick muttered something about discipline and how boys don’t cry and what's even wrong with them these days. Ford didn’t listen. Caryn’s arms were crossed, Ford watched the pink lipstick on her lips tremble as she breathed through her nose.

“you just ruined it,” she snapped.

her husband scoffed at that, muttering about responsibility, about boys who never grow up, about how he’ll never learn, not unless someone teaches him some damn discipline. Ford stood there, staring at the frosting still on the floor, on the chair, melting into the cracks of the old table. he thought about how Stan’s smile had cracked open so wide just before it happened. how his eyes had crinkled with joy. and now he’s probably alone, curled in on himself, calling himself names again.

bad kid. bad boy. always too much.

Ford hates it.

he steps away. just like that. doesn’t say a word. ma watches him go but doesn’t stop him. she knows.

Ford takes the biggest slice with the frosting he can because he knows his twin likes it that way. scoops it onto a napkin because the plates are still in the sink and Stan always said napkins are easier anyway, no dishes, dummy. Ford grins to himself, then slips out the back door, cake in hand. a boy on a mission, a hero on his way to save his twin.

the grass is wet. the sun’s starting to dip a little lower, not quite golden hour yet though.

the treehouse door still said DO NOT ENTER and Ford knew better than anyone that when Stan wrote that, what he meant was “please come find me anyway.”

“Stan?” he calls. no answer. “it’s me.”

still nothing.

Ford sighs. “i brought cake.”

quiet, wet voice, “you can come in.“

Ford climbs the ladder one step at a time. when he pokes his head through the trapdoor, Stanley’s curled up in the farthest corner, arms around his knees, Shanklin tucked in the crook of his elbow. his face is pink and swollen, looking like he tried so hard not to cry and still failed. Ford wants to fix it with all the tools he doesn’t have. he wants to make the world kind to Stanley, just once.

he sits down beside him, careful not to drop the cake as he holds it out like an offering.

“you deserve this.”

Stan doesn’t take it right away. he’s still biting his lip, he doesn’t believe him, trying not to cry again. “i ruined it,” he mumbles. “dad was right. i ruined everything. your project, the cake, the day. i ruin everything, Ford. i don’t wanna be a bad kid i’m trying. i swear. i just, i never know when i’m too much.”

Ford leans in. “you’re never too much for me.”

Stan sniffled again, rubbing the back of his wrist under his nose, embarrassed by how wet his face felt. “you should just go,” he muttered, eyes not meeting Ford’s. “you don’t gotta stay here with me. you had a good birthday, right? it was nice before i— before i screwed it up. you can still go back and have fun.”

“what kind of birthday would that be without you?”

“a quiet one,” Stan tried to joke. “with clean shirts and no cake on the walls. maybe even one dad doesn’t yell during.”

Ford’s eyes flashed. “i don’t care what dad wants! he doesn’t get to decide what birthdays are supposed to be. and if he thinks the best part of today wasn’t you smashing cake in my face, then he’s— he’s wrong. okay?”

Stan shrugged, curling tighter around his knees. “he said i don’t think before i act. said i always ruin stuff. and he’s right, you know. i do. even when i’m trying to be funny or nice or whatever. i always mess it up. im a screw up”

“no, Stanley, no you're not. you’re exactly you. and i’m not just saying that to make you feel better. i mean it. if the world doesn’t know what to do with someone who loves hard and laughs loud and shoves cake into faces, then the world is wrong. not you.” Ford paused, then added with a tiny laugh, “and by the way, that cake smash was hilarious. i was gonna get you back for it. i still might!”

“you were?“

“of course. i was gonna go for the frosting in your ear. but then dad ruined it. not you, Stan. dad. you made me laugh harder than anyone else today. you made the day fun. if that makes you bad, then i guess i wanna be bad too.”

Stanley looked down at his hands. “he hates me.”

Ford shook his head. “no. he just, well, doesn’t know how to be kind. and that’s not your fault. that’s never your fault.”

Stan’s lip wobbled again. “but you’re fifteen minutes older,” he said as if it was some sacred fact that made Ford better.

“yeah,” Ford smiled softly. “and that means it’s my job to protect you. and this, right now, is protecting you!” he gently placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Stan didn’t answer. not in words. instead, he just fell into ford’s arms like a falling star and Ford wrapped him up tight, forehead to forehead, like they were still in the womb. like they’d never stopped sharing the same heartbeat.

“okay then. . . then you're- you’re the smart one.” Stan murmured into Ford's clothes.

“and you’re the heart,” Ford said, instantly. “don’t you get it? i’ve spent our whole life next to you. same crib. same bed. same school lunches. same scraped knees. and i know you, Stan. better than anyone ever will. and you’re the best person i know. we were born together! you and me. same day. same time. you think i’d ever let the world tear you apart from me? you’re stuck with me, Stan. forever.”

“even if i put cake on your face?” Stanley pulled away to look at his brother's face.

“especially if you put cake on my face.”

they both laugh, even through the tears.

Ford leans back against the wall, and Stan curls up next to him, still holding the cake.

“hey, Ford?”

“yeah?”

“next year, can you be the one who gets yelled at?”

“deal.”

Ford picked up the slice and broke it in two. handed the bigger piece to Stan. “to us,” he said. when they ate, they didn’t talk for a while. didn’t need to. somewhere far away, the sound of arguing in the house turned to nothing but wind.

and even though it wasn’t perfect, the music never played, and the present count wasn’t even, and their dad was still grumbling about boys who didn’t know how to behave. Ford didn't care because as long as they were in the treehouse, they were safe. they were okay.

and Ford knew, in the soft part of his chest that he didn’t tell anyone about, that this was the version of their birthday he’d remember. his own twin, his possum, a plate shared in half. nothing would ever be more important than keeping Stanley whole.

Ford never really cared that he was fifteen minutes older. because it didn't matter. they came into the world together on the same night, under the same beautiful stars, same mom screaming down the hospital hallway. and they're gonna go through the rest of life that way too. same everything.

“but what if someday we don’t?” Stanley asked him oncr when they turned fifteen. “what if you go somewhere without me? what if you get real smart and go to a school far away and i can’t follow?”

“then i’ll come back,” Ford smiled at his twin and nodded, hugging him tighter. “i always come back.”

you're not a bad kid, Stanley, and no amount of cake-smashing or crying or possums in your pants is ever gonna change that.

★★★

the birthday cake was three tiers tall, top-heavy and colorful, speckled with glittered sugar and shaped like a shooting star which was Stanley's idea. there were banners and foam hats and a punch bowl filled with too much ice and not enough juice, and Stan kept laughing and joking, grabbing Dipper by the shoulders and hollering something about how eighteen means you start getting hair in new places. Ford corrected him gently with a dry lecture on anatomical development, which Stan interrupted with a fake cough and a smirk. “yeah, yeah, puberty pt. 2, we get it, doc.”

and Dipper laughed. he laughed at them both, it was a good day. or, at least, it should have been

but when he looked up, Mabel was gone. and he didn’t need to say anything or ask where she went. weird feeling curled cold and familiar low in his ribs, which Dipper always called was the twin-sense.

and when one part of you is missing, when you’ve shared a womb, a life, a bed full of plushies and glitter spilled across the floor at 3 a.m., you feel it like a phantom limb aching.

“be right back,” he mumbled, brushing off Ford’s comment about post-grad programs and sneaking past Stan’s enthusiastic offer of a mustache trimmer as a gift.

the attic door was slightly ajar.

when Dipper came in, he saw his sister on her bed. her knees were hugged to her chest, tucked tight beneath her arms, and the sweater she wore, with the handmade ‘BIRTHDAY GIRL!’ lettering stitched in glittery felt, was rumpled at the shoulders. in the corners of her eyes were tears and there were hiccupy little sounds leaking out of her.

“Mabel?” he said, quiet.

she didn’t look up at first. just a small sniffle. “i’m fine.”

she wasn’t.

he sat down beside her slowly, folding his legs the way he used to when they were ten and building pillow forts and eating gummy worms in secret. they sat like that for a moment.

“i don’t like birthdays anymore.”

“since when?”

“since this one. maybe since the last one, too. i don’t know. isn’t it scary. . ? getting old? i thought i’d be happy,” Mabel said, and her hands were clenched now, tugging at the fabric of her knees. “no. i AM happy. i mean, there were so many presents and balloons and sparkles, and i wore that birthday crown and everything. but. . .” she trailed off.

Dipper waited.

“but every year it gets harder. every year we get closer to not being us.”

he frowned. “what do you mean?”

“what if we end up like them?”

Dipper didn’t need to ask who they were.

Stan and Ford.

two halves of a mirror that spent thirty years cracked. two people with the same eyes, same blood and still, they’d managed to live without each other for most of their lives. and sure, they’d come back together now, sure they had matching recliners and could joke again and occasionally argued, immediately apologising to each other after, but there was always a sadness behind it that never really leaves.

“they were twins too,” Mabel looked away. “they used to be like us, right? making secret languages and sharing bunk beds and building things and fighting with sock puppets. and then poof, they weren’t. just like that. just gone. and maybe it’s stupid but i keep thinking, what if that happens to us?”

Dipper couldn’t breathe for a second. because he had thought it too. every year, every change, every new interest, every new distance, he worried about it in his own way, just that this worrying sounded way more rational when written in a journal he started years ago. but hearing it from his own twin made it real.

“i don’t wanna lose you,” Mabel admitted quietly, “i don’t wanna wake up one day and have some dumb fight and then never talk again. i don’t wanna be alone. i don’t care about college or jobs or growing up or being cool. i just want. . . i just want you there.”

and god. his heart hurt. he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her shaking shoulders, wishing he could squeeze her back into childhood just by holding tight enough.

“you won’t lose me, Mabel.”

she sniffled into his shirt. “but—“

“no. you won’t.” he pulled back to look at her. “you know what i realized watching Ford and Stan?”

”what?”

“they didn’t stop being brothers because they got older. they stopped because they stopped listening. they stopped believing each other mattered more than pride, or fear, or mistakes. we don’t have to do that. we won’t do that.”

Mabel looked doubtful, because hope was scarier than fear sometimes.

“you know why they fought?” Dipper asked gently. “they were scared too. both of them. they were so afraid of losing each other that they didn’t say anything, until it turned into anger. and then it was too late for a long time.”

Mabel sniffled, wiping her tears with her sweater.

“but you, Mabel, you tell me when you’re scared. you tell me everything. and i do the same with you. that’s what makes us different. we’ve already done more healing than they ever did when they were our age.”

her eyes filled again. “but what if one of us leaves?”

“then we follow. i don’t care if i get fifteen degrees or join some fancy science expedition or meet a thousand weird anomalies or ghosts. if you need me, i’m there. always. because no matter how old we get, you’re still my sister. and nothing matters more than that.”

“not even the mysteries of the universe?”

he smiled. “not even close.”

“you’re sure?”

he held out his pinky. “cross my heart. spit handshake level of sure. blood pact level of sure. Stan’s-weird-tattoo-on-his-back level of sure, Mabel.”

a wet little giggle slipped out of her, against her will. growing up was scary, birthdays were scary. but being alone when you literally have a walking copy of yourself near you was much scarier. and if there was one thing she could believe in, even as time spun forward without mercy, it was this. her twin would always find her when she ran.

and he would never let go.

Mabel's lip wobbled. “i don’t want to be old, i want to be twelve again. i want to go back to the Shack and steal grappling hooks and wear twelve sweaters at once and make friendship bracelets for waddles.”

“we still can!” Dipper exclaimed, “we’ll just . . . do it at eighteen. or nineteen! or twenty-five. or seventy-two.”

Mabel giggled. “you’ll be bald by then.”

“hey!”

“but i’ll still make you birthday cards with glitter glue and those tiny stickers with cats dressed as pirates.”

“you better.” Dipper grinned.

they sat there in the silence and smiled together, even through tears.

“thank you, Dipper.”

“always,” he said. and meant it.

because they were twins. and when you come into the world with someone else’s heartbeat echoing next to yours, you never really stop listening for it.

outside the room, just down the shadowed hall with its peeling wallpaper and framed photos tilted slightly, two old men stood like statues. yeah maybe they shouldn’t have listened because it was rude.

but they did and they didn’t move.

not even when Dipper started speaking, his voice sounded so careful yet trembling and that sounded so much like him, like Ford. too thoughtful and smart for his age.

Ford felt it hit him in waves as he stared at the door. and when Mabel said she was scared they'd grow apart the same way Stan and Ford did, it knocked the air from his lungs.

because yes, that was the fear, wasn’t it? that someday, no matter how bright or loving or glitter-soaked it began, it would end in silence and thirty years of absence.

Ford’s eyes shimmered. and when Dipper said “you tell me when you’re scared,” Ford swallowed so hard it hurt. he wanted to say that to Stan. had wanted to, for sixty years.

Ford felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and turned away, hoping that his brother would not see, trying to blink the wetness away before it slid. but then his twin leaned in and smiled.

Stan, ever the saboteur of sentiment, muttered, “guess i gotta start making you glitter pirate kitty cards now, huh, Poindexter?” that made Ford blink, surprised. then a smile broke across his face. he reached up and wiped a tear quickly, trying to make it look like a scratch.

“you better,” he whispered back, smiling.

they didn’t talk about it again that night.

★★★

the sky over gravity falls was clear and sugar-blue on june 15th. today the Mystery Shack was full of chosen family. so many streamers. Waddles wore a party hat. Soos brought ribs. Wendy brought fireworks.

Ford stood beside the table, politely accepting a party blower shoved into his six fingered hand by Soos, but he wasn’t looking at the cake. he was watching Stan.

and Stan was. . . off. and that was weird. he wasn’t joking or making smart-ass remarks. wasn’t elbowing Ford or boasting about his super candles-blowing technique. none of that. instead, his hands were folded a little too neatly on the table. his smile was thin.

and suddenly, Ford was back there, decades ago, on the day they’d turned ten. he remembered the way Stan had laughed too loud and thrown a piece of cake at him, trying to be funny. Ford remembered their father’s glare. the silence that fell over the party. the way Stan’s hands had dropped, limp and small.

and Stan had never touched birthday cake the same way again.

and when Mabel happily clapped her hands and shouted “okay okay okay now blow out the candles!!” Ford’s chest tightened.

“sweetheart,” he said to her softly, interrupting her countdown. “hang on.” Ford turned to his brother. “Stanley.”

“uh, yeah?”

“it’s your cake too. your birthday too.”

“yeah, yeah, I know.” but then why Stan didn’t move?

Ford lowered his head. “you don’t have to wait for me.”

Stan gave a half-laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “old habits die hard, huh? looks like i’m still waitin’ for pa to say who gets the first slice.”

Ford's heart cracked as he touched Stan’s shoulder. “well, good news. dad’s not here. and if he was, i’d shove cake in his face.”

“you? really?”

“you’ve been a terrible influence on me.”

they both smiled. then Ford leaned in closer and said, “blow them out, Stanley. you go first. please.”

Stan paused, looking around. he looked at the candles. at Ford. at the twins and Soos and Wendy and Waddles and all the family that had chosen to stay.

and for the first time in maybe fifty years, he did as he closed his eyes, took a breath, and blew out every last candle.

everyone clapped and cheered, Mabel even threw confetti in her grunkle's face.

Ford stepped up next to him again. and then, without warning, scooped a giant glob of cake and smashed it straight into Stan’s nose.

there was a moment of silence after Waddles let out a piggy squeal.

but then—

“ohhh you’re gonna PAY for that, nerd!!”

forks flew and frosting rained down. Wendy hurled a piece of cake like a snowball, while Mabel yelled “CAKE WAR!!” making all the party guests’ ears ring. Waddles tried to eat the battlefield.

it was chaos. sweet, sticky, beautiful chaos. and it was the first time in years Ford had laughed this sincerely

and in the middle of it, frosting in his hair, arms flailing to block an incoming cupcake, he looked at Stanley and saw his twin smiling wide, laughing like a kid again.

no guilt, no fear. just joy. his brother, his family.

and that, Ford thought, wiping frosting from his glasses, was the best birthday gift of all.

#gravity falls #stan pines #ford pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #Stanley Pines #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fanfic #stanford pines headcanons #stan pines headcanons #gravity falls headcanons #stangst #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #filbrick pines #caryn pines

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

Note

May I order an affogato, cannoli, red bean bun, and a peach & almond crostata please?

Been sick lately and was just wondering how these four would be with a lover who is dealing with a stomach bug.

(Hope you both are doing better too!)

-🎐

˖⁺. ﹙ multi monster characters x gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . sick darling !! 🍒 : inhuman characters ˖ monster characters

you find yourself sick - how does your lover handle it?

𖹭. ps : oh dear !! :(( I hope you feel well soon!

﹙ vespasiano 781. ﹚. . . the fatherly behaviour !! 🍒 :

Swiftly sticking his head past the doorframe to look at you on the bed. He opens up the door slowly with a small nudge of the wood with his foot.

He carries in the large tray of snacks and soup on it before putting it down on the bedside table. Gaze full of concern for your sickly condition.

"Stomach still feeling bad cuore?" The small whisper brings your head to the side, eyes cracking open to see your husband next to yougetting the soup ready for you.

"I don't wanna eat, I might throw up again." You respond, looking away from the food as though it was going to fling itself into your maw and disturb your stomach once more.

"I know, I know. Just try a bit. I got a bucket right here, it'll be alright."

The temperature of your body said it all. You had a fever again, and he needed to make sure you ate and took the medication so you could go back to resting.

﹙ vinicio 781. ﹚. . . take your medication. now !! 🍓 :

"Did you take your medication?"

You perk your head up from the pillow you've been dazed out against for the past hour or so, fever raging. It was hard to understand what your boyfriend was saying too.

"What?" You croak out and blink slowly.

Slowly progressing towards your side, Vinicio stands tall above you and puts the thermometer into your mouth, watching as your fever shoots the Metre sky high.

"You're on a fever of 40.1 C° why haven't you taken the meds I told you to?!" His eyes grow stern but are clearly mixed with worry as he grabs the medicine bottle and takes out the pills for you.

"Nooooo!" Each complaint strikes a little nerve in him, and he takes hold of you.

"Please?" He sounds almost desperate in his call, eyebrows curled together with his hand extended out for you to take the pills that lay in it's palm. And a demonic hand holds up a glass of water for you from his back

"I just want you to get better dolcezza, please take the medication?"

﹙ mèng yáo 9948e. ﹚. . . take the medication !! 🍒 :

Mèng yáo has 6 kids. And each and every one of them have been difficult in the past with treatment of sicknesses.

One is chronically sick and is bedridden, the rest are stubborn. She's found ways to make sure medication is taken and food is eaten throughout the years.

"My dear." She croons, settling next to you with medicine and food in her hold. "I have prepared a simple bowl of rice, where you can put whatever you want into it." She hums, leaning close.

"But first. I will need you to take your medication, would that he possible?"

Despite the lack of apetite and the dislike towards being medicated and sickly you cant say no when your wife is being so soft and tender but persistent with your health.

For her, you'll take it.

﹙ nadia 9948e. ﹚. . . sleep soundly, dear !! 🍓 :

Nadia makes sure you feel as good as you possibly can. Assuring that when you want fresh air. She takes you out on walks, carrying you in her arms or on her shoulders. Bundled up in a bunch of blankets to make sure you don't cold.

She's always giving you serene smiles and combing your hair with her hands.

But fusses whenever the medicines do not work as quickly.

Yet, one of the most important things to her, is that you get the proper sleep and rest. Making sure to be of help the second you need, either with food, or getting something for you to spew in or the third. She's there and she makes sure that you feel comforted, safe and sound.

"Please sleep min lille mus." ( my little mouse )Her slightly cold hand swipes across your forehead to massage at your temples. "I'll be here when you wake up again okay?

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trulyhblue · 1 year ago

Text

Way To My Heart

Jessie Fleming x Reader

warnings: period/menstrual pains, nausea, period guilt?? (idk how u would put it), fluff, hurt/comfort, coarse language.

thank you for the inspo!!! @jessiebronze2 <3

A/N — not all periods are the same!! Also, bit of a short one today

_________________________

You couldn't remember the last time you had comfortably moved without feeling the notion of your stomach twisting in the most ridiculing pain.

You always struggled with your period. It was something you had never seemed to get used to as the years went on. No amount of medication could soothe the pain that you felt. Nothing could cure the cramps, the migraines, and everything in between.

It was days of endless, excruciating torture that nothing could eradicate.

Except for your girlfriend.

You and Jessie met at UCLA, where you were studying for your degree, while she multitasked the confronting challenge of being a student-athlete. Everyone could see the talent the Canadian possessed from a mile away, and you were lucky enough to witness her growth throughout the years that she had prospered. While you weren't a football fan growing up, the fondness you felt for the girl must've coerced you to find some enjoyment in the game — though you must admit, the most rewarding part of watching the sport was actually watching your ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Jessie had felt reluctant to leave for training that morning. The early morning chill made a perfect excuse for your girlfriend to cuddle up to your side. There were many instances when Jessie would find herself begrudgingly peeling away from your sleepy figure with a scowl on her face. Training was hard work, full of sweat and grind. She loved it, of course, but she often had trouble shaking the image of you in bed, snuggled into a mound of blankets and pillows instead of her.

The Canadian was the same this morning, except she noticed a subtle change in the furrow of your eyebrows. The crease was pained. It was deep with exhaustion, and your body was curled up into a ball, feigning your figure into the smallest confinement it could muster. Beads of sweat peaked at your hairline, your skin a few hues paler than normal.

Jessie wisped the hairs that had fallen in your sleep away from your face, opening the windows in hopes that fresh air would calm your heated cheeks. At first, she thought you had a fever, or maybe even a cold. Both of you adapted to the London whether easy enough, save for the few times when a virus would spread through the city — that was where neither of you could fight it off. As hesitated by her closest, contemplating whether to call in and say she was unable to attend.

She watched as you tossed and turned, pulling on her training gear in an endeavour to fix her conscience off of you. She knew that if you found out she cancelled training for you, it’d only make your mood worse. You were as stubborn as each other. It was when you stirred from your sleep, feeling the drop of your stomach hurl your eyes open, that Jessie climbed over the duvet to you.

“Are you okay?” She asked, combing your hair softly. You clutched your stomach upon instinct, pulling taunt on the sheets beneath you.

“I'm on it.”

It took her less than a second to comprehend what you meant. Her eyes widened, unbeknownst to you, and shielded the bright light that streamed through the curtains away from you.

“Oh, baby,” she muttered, running her hand down your arm. “What can I do?” She shuffled to your side, maneuvering your body onto her chest, sighing at the way your body complied with her movements like putty.

“Just this is okay,” you replied solemnly, closing your eyes. Jessie made sure to keep her breathing balanced, using as much concentration as possible to keep her body still. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you moved your head up with a wince, noticing the Chelsea logo adorned on your girlfriend's shorts.

“You need to go, Jess.”

The look on Jessie’s face told you all you needed to know. She must've forgotten all about training, bound by the comfort of your body pressing into her own, and pursed her lips together to show her contention to the statement.

You huffed, lifting your body to move back to your side of the bed. “C’mon Jessie Baby, you’ll be la—”

Your balance was shaky, your arms lacking the strength to hold you up for long. Jessie pulled you back into her chest, wrapping her arms over you, her hands resting on your arse and thighs.

“You're sick,” she stated, swaying you back and forth. The movement was comforting enough for the aches in your body. “I can stay, y’know. They let us stay.”

“Don't lie, Fleming, I swear to God.” You retorted, using all your strength to push yourself back against the sheets. The woman looked at you with the utmost concern. Her eyes were beady and broad, empathy scattered across the constellation of freckles dotted across her cheeks.

“You are going to training, Jess.”

Jess took her time in replying, hoping the silence would make you rethink your decision. She would love nothing more than to shower you with praise and affection. She’d make you breakfast without you getting out of bed, then run you a bath so that your muscles would ease from the heat.

She’d bring you whatever you wanted whether that was chocolate, ice cream, cuddles, kisses — anything. In times like this, she was completely at your will. But on the other hand, she knew you had made up your mind. Jessie loved football, you thought. You weren't going to make her stay home for you, especially when you were experienced with this sort of pain prior to now.

So that's how you were left to yourself for most of the day.

Jessie left reluctantly after ten minutes getting the rest of her things. She made sure to bring you in some food and multiple heat packs before she ran out the door, already inevitably late. You stayed in bed for the most part, finding yourself huddled into a ball with your phone in front of you. After a while, a recurring, dull discomfort flared in your head, and you weren't able to scroll aimlessly on social media due to the light sending hurt across your face.

Jessie sent you hourly questions, asking if you were okay or if you were feeling any better. She was talking to Niamh about her worry for you when Emma sent the Canadian around the field for being late. Niamh told her the best thing for you was Jessie herself, which unfortunately sent a new wave of guilt through the woman as she moved through drills.

By a little after noon, you were feeling hungry, but your body was not equipped to get itself out of bed in search of anything to soothe your hunger. Instead, you drank the rest of the water next to your bed, the thought of Jessie being home soon sending you into a comforting sleep.

It didn't last long though. You sent upwards, a wave of nausea overtaking your senses. You had only just made it to the toilet in time, sitting in the bathroom, by the toilet, in silence.

You were dazed, fatigued, and hungry — not a good mix for a woman. You wanted to be productive — the apartment was in ruins, and there was so much you could be doing instead of lazing about on the floor of your bathroom feeling sorry for yourself. You hated that Jessie would come home from a rough day at training to a messy house and the burden of taking care of you.

The thought almost made you laugh — you would've if your body would've allowed it — Jessie would be appalled if she heard those words come out of your mouth. The woman was endlessly caring, sympathetic and kind. She always made sure you were okay, even if she was having issues of her own. Your relationship was a saving grace for both of you. Together, you built each other up in all different ways. You moulded as a couple but also as friends. You laughed, played and talked like you had known each other forever, even if you had only met her in college. You complimented each other in ways no one else could. If she had heard you call yourself a burden, you’d be in for it.

Jessie loved you in ways you couldn't comprehend. Turns out, you felt the same for her.

You were too stuck in your own thoughts to hear the front door open, or the way your girlfriend announced her arrival. You stirred by the toilet, only looking up when the bathroom door swung open, revealing your girlfriend in all her glory, holding a handful of flowers and chocolate.

“Oh, baby,” Immediately, she placed all the things down, kneeling by your side to scoop you up into a hug. “You’re okay. I'm so sorry you're feeling like this.”

You weren't crying, but the overwhelming sensation of Jessie with you was overstimulating. You weren't usually this sentimental, but the way Jessie picked you up, placing you gently on the bed with a wet cloth over your head. She slipped off your shirt and replaced it with a new one of her own. You listened to her with your eyes shut, hearing she hurried shuffle across the room.

When she met you with cuddles, you knew she had changed from the sweatpants and jumper she had replaced her training kit for. You engulfed her scent, letting it soothe the dryness in your throat.

The two of you were slowly breathing in each other’e ambience when Jessie finally spoke, her whisper sending shivers down you ear.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” Her breath fanned over your neck. “You're my favourite person in the whole world.”

_____________________________

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juniperss · 10 months ago

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Hi Dana! I am once again begging for a Dick Winters HC! Maybe what its like to cuddle w him

I'm here by dubbing you "Winters Anon" and I hope that's okay!!

a/n these headcanons, as with all my writing for BoB, are based on the fictional portrayal of the characters. Headcanon requests are open, please check my rules in my pinned post to see who I’m currently writing for💞

Okay so my hot take is that I don't think that Dick is really good at cuddling. Not because he's against the act or because he's not absolutely amazing to snuggle up next to, but because this man has places to be and things to do. He likes to be moving and cuddling is something that he really only considers when he's done for the day.

So because of that, I think he prefers evening cuddles after dinner and getting ready for bed/settling down for the evening once the dishes are done and the food is put away. Sometimes you can get away with morning cuddles if he wakes up early, if the weather is too poor for his morning walks, or if he doesn't have plans that require his attention.

It's not that he doesn't want to cuddle, he does! He's just very much a schedule and plan orientated man. He wants to present in his time with you that's why he prefers the cuddle time to occur when his mind can be at ease.

NOW! Once you two are cuddling? *cracks knuckles* There are 3 types of cuddling and each one occurs/starts in a different way so let's go through it!

Couch Cuddles: typically start with one of you sitting up on the couch reading a book or working on something else while the other curls up into the first. 9/10 it's going to be you who is doing the curling into, but that's okay because Dick just kinda lifts his arm for you to rest your head on his chest or on his lap before settling it back over you. If he's reading when you do this, he might read out loud to you (guaranteed if you ask) or talk about the book. If he was working on a crossword (you can pry crossword loving Dick Winters out of my cold dead hands) or something else, he asks for your help with it or sits in silence.

Bed Time Cuddles: as mentioned above this guy has a schedule and set list of things to do each day and one of those parts of his routine is bed time cuddles with you. Once the two of you are both in bed he loves to wrap both arms around and hold onto you. One hand stays holding you to him while the other runs over your back, arms, or plays with your fingers. Mr. "Tell Me About Your Day" has already asked you about how your day was, probably during dinner, but Bed Time Cuddle Session always has him asking you about it again. These are the times when you two tend to discuss deeper topics, dreams or fears and plans for what you both want.

Early Morning Cuddles on a Rainy Day: These cuddles are special because they're not every day. Dick wakes up to get ready for his morning walk, but sees that the rain is pattering against the glass of the window a little too hard for him to justify going out for a stroll and so he rolls over and wraps his arm around your waist and rests his back on his pillow to lay with you a little longer. You'll start to feel his fingers in your hair or running along the side of your arm. He's not intentionally trying to wake you up or anything, but if you're a light sleeper, this will probably wake you up. It's nice though, to turn over and smoosh your face against his chest and breathe him in. The blankets are warm from the night sharing the bed and the sound of the rain lulls you back to sleep in tandem with Dick's steady breathing. These are quiet cuddles, he doesn't ask questions or talk about the day. He just soaks you in.

SMOOCHES ON YOUR NOSE AND ON YOUR NECK. Smooches your nose at bedtime, your temple if you're cuddled up on the couch, and your neck and shoulders in the morning.

He smells like fresh linen. Mixed with coffee or tea if you're cuddling on the couch. Mixed with the mint of toothpaste if your two are cuddling at bedtime. In the morning he's got morning breath, but honestly, it's worth it to wake up to that smile of his. Also still smells like fresh linen.

He's got so many freckles that you'll be quite busy trying to count them or running your fingers over them. He really loves watching your fingers move and will focus his attention of them during cuddling. He likes to keep his hands busy too, usually trailing them over your body or playing with your hair. He just likes to feel you there and he's memorizing every part of you.

#winters anon #my writings #richard winters #richard winters x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader

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cloudcountry · 2 years ago

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May I please get a fanfic where the guys react to male Mc/reader in a dress? Specifically for sebek, vil, kalim, jade and Floyd?

SUMMARY: Various TWST character reacting to Male!MC wearing a dress.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: ofc you can anon <3 i think its funny that half the characters on this list would definitely wear dresses (at least they would in my head. vil is canon though for sure.)

Jade doesn’t even look twice when you exit Ramshackle wearing a dress. As a merman, he doesn’t see the point of assigning clothing to gender (nor does he see the point of clothing at all, but he digresses.)

He canonically finds clothing uncomfortable anyways, so he’s all for it if dresses are what make you more comfortable! He might make a dark joke about how the swishing of your skirt reminds him of the desperate struggling of prey but shhh

Sometimes he finds himself marveling at the fabric and how fragile it seems. It would be a shame if it tore, huh? Oh, don’t worry. He wouldn’t dare rip such a pretty piece of clothing.

Floyd being one of the characters I mentioned above...yeah he’s definitely worn dresses before, so seeing you in one only sparks curiosity about what the occasion is. Say, Shrimpy, why are you dressed up all handsomely, huh?

If anyone asks you why you’re wearing a dress “because you’re a boy,” Floyd’s making his scary face and threatening them with a good squeezing. It’s none of your business, tidewrack. Now scram.

Hell, if anything this makes you far more interesting! Do you see all those lame asses that wear the same shit every day? It’s a good thing you’re wearing something fresh and new!!

Kalim may sound insensitive at first because he blurts out a loud “why are you wearing a dress?” But he doesn’t mean any harm! Like Floyd, it’s more of a “What’s the occasion?” question!!

As a kid, he probably saw dresses and thought that they were nice, and let his sisters dress him up whenever they were in the mood to do so

He’ll talk for HOURS about how good the dress looks on you and offer to buy you more, much to Jamil’s annoyance. (Please tell him no, Jamil does NOT want to be taken dress shopping AGAIN unless it’s for your birthday.)

Vil “Fuck Gender Roles” Schoenheit doesn’t bat an eye. As far as he’s concerned, you’re wearing a dress and that’s a piece of clothing that’s androgynous.

I HAVE SEEN FANART OF THIS MAN WEARING DRESSES AND HE IS GORGEOUS. Bless the artists that draw Vil Schoenheit in dresses, I hope both sides of your pillow are cold forevermore. ANYWAYS my point is he’s completely confident rocking clothing that is typically seen as feminine and he would love it if you were confident enough to do that too!

And if it’s only something you do in private, be prepared to have Vil as your personal support system. He’s totally for you wearing clothing that you like.

Sebek sees you wearing a dress and his first thought is that you’re doing this for mobility. He compliments your dedication to your workout routine and offers some pointers in a very smug voice.

When you tell him you’re wearing it because you want to, and not for any training reasons, Sebek recoils in shock. What? Human, you mean your entire life is not spent training?! This is why you’re so weak!

Almost passes out when Malleus shows up the next day in a dress, saying the Child of Man was wearing one and he wanted to try it out too. I mean, yes, of course you looked handsome! But you always do! AND WAHHHH!! YOUNG MASTER MALLEUS!! YOU LOOK STUNNING AS WELL!! Crying ensues.

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 year ago

Text

A Danish Werewolf in The City

The First Taste - part 1

Note: eh... surprise! the fic was getting too long for my liking, so I splitted it up and decided to drop the first part already. So... here's the first part of the last chapter, I hope you'll enjoy it!

previous chapters: part 1 - part 2

Pairing: werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)

Warnings: 18+, angst/horror. mention of blood, brief mention of (child) murder and alcohol.

Wordcount: 2,4k

Masterlist

You woke up when a cold wind embraced your body as you laid in bed, hands searching for the warm covers to pull over you when you suddenly realised something was missing. You opened your eyes and found yourself all alone, your window still open and the shredded curtains dancing eerily in the early morning breeze. You felt the pillow next to you and discovered it was cold, as was the side of the bed next to you…

Sihtric was gone.

He had gone without a word, sneaking out of your window at a time you were sound asleep, and he had left nothing except for traces of dried blood. Vague memories of the night before began to creep back into your mind; the horrifying transforming of your boyfriend into that beast, the awful slaughter of the vampires, and the warmness you had felt when you cried into the wolf's fur after Sihtric had crawled in bed with you. Your eyes welled up at the disturbing memories, and the sight of dried blood on your sheets and windowsill were cause for concern. Sihtric had clearly been injured during the fight, but you hadn't noticed it when he was in his wolf shape.

You jumped up and got dressed in a hurry before you rushed to your car. You knew exactly where you would find Sihtric, as there was only one place a wounded animal like him could go to…

You ran up to the doors of your occasional workplace and found them unlocked, a sign that your gut feeling had been right. The vets didn't work on weekends, unless it was an emergency, but you hadn't received any calls and so you knew that Sihtric had found his way there to fix himself up. He betrayed his presence when he heard the entrance door slam shut after you had walked in, and he accidentally knocked over a tray with medical tools in his slight scare. You were fast to figure out which surgery room he was in, and you both froze when you found each other and locked eyes.

There he was, your boyfriend, sitting on the veterinary table in his human form. He was dressed in black sweatpants with black leather boots underneath, clearly old and worn, and probably were clothes that had been tucked in a locker in his vet office in case of emergencies. His toned upper body was bare and decorated with cuts and bruises which he had collected the night before. All wounds were stitched up by now, but fresh blood was still smudged over his pale skin, as you had caught him before he could clean himself up. Sihtric's hands trembled as you stared at him, like a deer in headlights, holding a blood drenched cloth in one hand, while his other held a half empty bottle of alcohol.

'I… I'm paying for this, don't worry,' Sihtric managed to whisper hoarsely, 'I always do.'

'What do you mean you always do?' was all you could bring out.

'This… it's not the first time I come here to fix myself up,' he said, clearly ashamed, 'I heal fast, but sometimes I need stitches. And I can't go to a hospital like this without being put into an asylum or something,' he chuckled faintly, 'hospitals aren't keen on treating werewolfs anyway. And a full sized werewolf would scare the shit out of any veterinarian too. So where else am I supposed to go? I can only go here because I work here… I didn't raid your vet place because it could get you in trouble-'

'Why didn't you ask me for help?'

Sihtric stared at you, his mouth half open as he hadn't finished his sentence, and he then looked away with a light shrug. He shook his head, indicating he didn't know why he hadn't asked for your help, and had instead left you with blooded sheets and blood stains on your bedroom floor and windowsill. But the truth was that he knew very well why he hadn't asked for help, because he knew you were afraid of him and that everything had changed.

'Why didn't you wake me up?' you asked, anger and sadness evident in your voice, 'how could you… do you even know-,' you scoffed as you couldn't find the right words, and you threw your hands up, 'what… what am I supposed to do with… with you? What… how could we ever… I- I need answers, Sihtric. I need some fucking answers.'

'I'll tell you everything,' Sihtric said gloomily, 'just ask.'

You sighed, your breath was unsteady as you grabbed a chair and sat down at the desk across from the table Sihtric sat upon. You dragged your trembling hands over your face while Sihtric was quick to gulp down the remaining alcohol left in the bottle, and he placed it on the table once it was emptied. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then stared at you intently, waiting for you to speak.

'Those vampires,' you began, holding back your tears, 'how… I mean, you killed them. I know you did, so there must be evidence left in the woods-'

'It's taken care of,' Sihtric said curtly.

'How?'

'My pack. They took care of it when I went to find you.'

'Your… pack, okay,' you nodded slowly, slightly agitated, 'and… would you turn me to make me a part of your pack?'

'No,' he said, pained, 'never, my love, never. I would never want to turn you.'

'But why not?' you frowned, almost offended at his answer.

'Because that very first transformation is awful. It hurts so much it… it cannot be put into words. And that is a pain and a fright and a torture I wish to never put you through. Nor the… the bloodlust that comes with it afterwards. And more than anything I wish to be human, darling, more than anything,' he said softly, 'I would never want to turn anyone into something I do not wish to be.'

'So… you've never turned anyone, not even those in your pack?'

'The werewolves in my pack are stray wolves I befriended over the years. I've never turned anyone. I… I've only killed.'

'Killed,' you repeated softly, and scoffed, 'those humans and those… those babies you've killed, did you enjoy that?'

'As a human? No,' he said firmly, 'but… as a werewolf? Yes, I do. Hunting and killing is part of a wolf's nature, so it feels natural. However, when I shift, half or full, I… I am still very much aware of what I do. My human mind is there, it's just not in control-'

'So you are aware that you've killed?'

'I am,' he said sadly, 'and I am not proud of that. And I haven't killed or even attacked a human in many years, I promise.'

'Then how do you feed as a werewolf?'

'Animals,' Sihtric said quietly, 'sometimes I feed on animals.'

You gasped lightly and shook your head. For a moment you buried your face in your hands, collecting your thoughts and unable to look at the man you had been so in love with less than twenty four hours ago who now looked nothing like him anymore.

'So… those wounded animals we treat here-'

'No,' Sihtric interrupted, 'I've never attacked or wounded an animal that came through here.'

'But some… some markings on them-'

'That wasn't me!' he almost barked and threw the empty glass bottle on the floor with such force, it shattered and splintered all over the ground.

You jumped up at his sudden aggression, immediately reaching for the door and wanting to leave, but you stopped when he suddenly breathed down your neck and grabbed your arm. He backed you up against the door, his trembling hands lightly holding your face, giving you every chance to shove him away, but you just couldn't get away from him, because you just didn't want to.

'I'm sorry. I am… and I… I don't know where this leaves us,' Sihtric spoke soft and hoarsely, 'but if… if you can't be with me because it's too much,' he swallowed hard, trying to sound confident and tough, but it was evident he was heartbroken, 'if my werewolf side is too much, then I understand you do not want to be with me anymore. I already… tried to accept the fact you will break up with me. And I'm sorry… I'm sorry for everything you had to witness,' his voice died with a whiny sob as he desperately fought his emotions, without success, 'I know you will leave me… I know it, but I… I don't want you to.'

You sniffled and placed your hands on his neck, while tears rolled down his cheeks as he leaned his forehead against yours. You wept silently and slowly reached for his face, gently cupping his cheeks and moving closer to kiss his lips. A kiss you drowned in as soon as he wrapped his arms around you, and you melted in his warm embrace while you tasted the alcohol with a faint hint of blood on his tongue.

'It's you,' he whispered against your lips as he cried, 'you… please, I only want you. I'm sorry. Please, don't… don't leave me… I know it's a lot, but please-'

'I- I need time,' you whispered with a sob, 'I don't know if I can… if we could ever be- I'm sorry, Sihtric, but this is just the first taste I'm getting of this side of you,' you looked up at him as he stepped back, and you wiped your tears, 'just… please, just know that I love you, okay?'

You stared up at him when his eyes became threatening while his jaw was clenched tightly. And suddenly you began to fear the man in front of you, and no longer just the beast that was inside of him.

'Sihtric,' you began to stammer as you watched him back away, 'I… I love y-'

'You don't!' he suddenly raised his voice, then exhaled sharply and looked away from you again as he started to pace around the room, 'you don't love me,' he muttered as if speaking to himself, his voice trembled while his hands raked through his loose hair and the broken glass crushed underneath his heavy boots with every step he took, 'you couldn't possibly love me, you couldn't. No one can. No one could love a monster. Just… just go, please, just go.'

'Sihtric,' you tried, 'please, just-'

'Go!' Sihtric snarled as he lashed out, 'just go and leave me!'

Several months passed since you had last seen Sihtric. You had replaced the curtains and scrubbed the blood off your wooden floor, but the claw markings outside your window were still there. You had been heartbroken since you last saw him, and even though you had expected that time would heal you up, it simply hadn't. You were still in love with him, and it was an ongoing battle inside of you ever since that frightful night in the woods. How could you love a man who could shift into a werewolf, being fully aware of his doings? Sihtric was a monster in a way, you knew that, but you also knew that he was a good man who truly loved you.

After your abrupt break-up you slowly started to research werewolves and all beings alike, after you had taken some time to let it all sink in. You read frightening lore and heard the strangest stories as you spend hours listening to podcasts about apparent sightings. You desperately wanted to understand Sihtric and prove to yourself that he wasn't dangerous, or a monster. But you couldn't deny the horrors he had participated in and those you had witnessed yourself. And yet, after everything that had happened, you knew too that Sihtric had never harmed you and only ever wanted to protect you.

But Sihtric was, like you, conflicted about his being. He had been at peace with it and in control for the most part, but knowing it was the reason you couldn't be with him had ripped him apart. You had never called him a monster out loud, and you never had to, Sihtric could clearly read it in your eyes whenever you had looked at him the last time he saw you at the vet. And he figured that if the monster inside of him was going to destroy his life anyway and take all he loved, he might as well embrace his being

And that's what he did.

When human, Sihtric had delved into researching and tracing down every vampire coven nearby after you had split up. For it was vampires who had caused him to shift that night in the woods, with you by his side, so it was on them he sought his revenge. He stopped chaining himself up during the full Moon, completely destroying the set up he had made in his shed and allowing himself to shift without keeping any control over it, only to then roam the dark streets as the beast he was. Lurking in the darkness with his pack, hunting down and slaughtering every vampire they could possibly find after scouting their hideouts during the day. And the blood on his paws stained his hands too, for every cut and bruise he received as a werewolf in his reckless attempt to mend his broken heart, his human body suffered the very same damage and his eyes witnessed the murders.

Every night Sihtric would stroll by your home in his full wolf form, observing the area for hours to make sure you were safe. Some nights you woke up in the dead of night, swearing you had heard his howl in the distance or his soft whines just outside your window. But every time you looked outside, hoping to see a black wolf with mismatched eyes looking up at you, you found nothing but darkness as far as you could see. And your heart sank as you believed that it had just been another dream you had about him, like almost every night.

Sihtric became battered and bruised over time, and it angered him that he never felt better after each slaughter he had survived and each win he gained. As time continued to pass, he slowly began to realise that even if he killed every other creature of the night, it still wouldn't bring you back to him and his beating heart would remain empty and broken inside of his chest. He knew nothing would bring you back and, to his horror, he started to realise he was turning into his father after all; a cold-hearted killer. Because he may have only killed vampires, but he knew very well that, just as werewolves, not all vampires have ill intent.

And when another full Moon was approaching, Sihtric stepped into the shed in his backyard and made a list of everything he needed to restrain himself again, in order to not roam the streets and kill more of the creatures he would forever blame for losing you.

taglist: @foxyanon @alexagirlie @sihtricsafin @neonhairspray @gemini-mama

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if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk au #sihtric au #werewolf #werewolf fic #werewolf au #horror fic

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thatone-brightstar · 2 years ago

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More than all the stars (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader) (The Bear & The Fox Series)

Chapter 1: Peelers, pears & 'I'll be there's

Words: 3.8k

summary: Packing up the old, to bring in the new.

a/n: Hi, hope you enjoy! Remember comments, likes and reposts are truly appreciated even in old chapters. Also a lot of fluff cuz i think these two are missing it lol

Prologue.

Carmy had left a few hours ago, before sunlight could even break through the frosted windows and with you almost not noticing it. He made it past your bed and to the opened door on soft steps, but the heel of his boot scraped the wood unnecessarily hard; and a light shuffle from the bed followed the noise instantly.

“Carmy?” You asked quietly, voice muffled by the thickness of the comforter.

You shuffled again to push yourself up as Carmy made his way to your side, leaning over you.

“Hey, yeah sorry- I didn’t wanna wake you…” He gently pushed your shoulder back to the mattress and watched you tuck both palms between the pillow and your cheek. “I gotta go in early, but you get some sleep, okay?”

He leaned down to place a soft kiss over your temple, making you smile and move closer to the hand coming over your hair.

“Okay…” You mumbled back without bothering to open your eyes. “I’ll go visit later.”

“Yeah, sure. Get some rest.”

Carmy gave you a final kiss and before he could pull his hand away from your face, yours reached for it, giving it a light kiss on the discolored ‘S’ under his knuckles.

“Love you, Bear.” You said letting him go and pulled the covers over you once more.

“Love you, Bear.” He repeated without a thought.

His boot scraped the wood again once he noticed the naturality of the words and a sudden wave of cold anxiety washed over him in fear that you might have heard them. He turned his head to the cocoon of blankets you were buried under- undisturbed- and let out a breath of relief. He quickly made his way out the bedroom and past the apartment door into the hall, pushing back the crazy thought that has haunted him for later.

The freezing Chicago weather had kept you in bed for as long as possible, afraid of the chill that would seep through your socks once your feet stepped on the wooden floors. Still, you couldn’t stay more than usual once awake and instead forced yourself up and out to make something of your only day off. With a cup of fresh coffee in your hands and your hair still wet from the warm shower, you took a seat in front of your recently arranged studio in Carmy’s living room- your shared living room.

It still felt strange to call it that, because despite the fact that you had been sleeping at his place for a while now, living together was a whole different situation. You felt like so much had happened in a short period of time that there was still a lot you tried to wrap your head around. From the money, to Joyce’s wedding, to moving in with Carmy, all in under a month.

As your mind wanders away in all the ways your life has changed, your attention is swept away by swirls of light yellows, greens and reds that bounce bright over a shimmering lake. Carmy’s stereo plays one of the usual acoustic songs you use to fill the room while you work on the details, back hunched over in concentration. A few vertebrae pop in protest once you finally straighten your posture and move to rinse your hands of the paint.

Twenty minutes later and despite the cold, you shut the main door to the building and turn in direction to the one coffee shop Carmy likes, the one he always boasted about having the best hash browns in the city, and wait your turn in line to order.

You hadn’t been able to help as much at The Beef, the gallery had been buzzing with patrons since the charity event, that you rarely got a chance to leave the building before sundown. Many times you thought you’d reach the restaurant in time, but as everyone was leaving, covered in grime from head to toe, a part of you grew guilty for not being able to help as much as you’d like. So your contribution would come today in the form of coffee and lunch, because knowing Syd and your boyfriend, eating was probably the last thing on their mind.

Once your order is done and you have to juggle the sandwiches and steaming cups in your arms, the idea to go back for the car pops into your head. But you haven’t tried driving on your own yet and it doesn’t sound so appealing the more you think about it. Instead, you rearrange the paper bags and cup holders into a more comfortable grip and walk the twelve minutes it takes you to reach The Beef- ‘The Bear’ you correct in your head.

By the time you get there, your nose has grown red from the cold and your gloved hands almost lose their grip on the flimsy cup holders.

“G’mornin, hands please!” You yell once you manage to pry the front door open, in hopes that anyone is close enough to hear you.

“Me! I got hands, I’m comin’!” You hear Neil shout from where the steward section used to be, then you hear his shoes and the jingle of his keys move quickly towards you. “Ooh, is that chorizo!?” He asks sniffing around, taking the bags from your hands.

“Yeah- dude you got a good nose…”

“Thanks, my bro says I’m like a Bloodhound when it comes to food- can I?”

“Yeah, go ‘head.”

“Sweet…”

“Hey-” Syd greets you as she enters the room and offers you a quick side hug. “How’s apartment hunting?”

“Fuckin’ nightmare…” You grumble and carefully hand her the Chai with her name scribbled on it, then yell “I brought family! Come get it before Fak eats it all!”.

Ignoring the small ‘I’m not gonna eat it all’ from the man beside you, you begin pulling the aluminum wrappers and gently stack them over a paper bag to avoid the dust. One by one, the guys come littering in, with tired expressions over their faces, greeting you and grabbing a cup.

“Why don’t you just stay where you are now?” She asks, unwrapping her sandwich.

“Cause Carmy’s landlord’s an asshole.”

“Carmy’s an asshole?” Marcus jokes, walking past you with a smile and ruffling your hair the way an older brother would.

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away. “Y’know, I’m really lovin’ all this contribution to the conversation.”

“Why’s your landlord an asshole?”

You sigh deep and take a sip of your cup. “Since it states in the contract that it’s only being rented for one person, a.k.a. Carmy, me being there is a violation, which breaks the contract, which means he can raise the rent cause he’s an-”

“Asshole.” Marcus finishes up for you and you point towards him in agreement. “Got it.”

“Wait, he can’t do that, can he?” Syd asks through a frown.

“I guess, I don’t know, I don’t know any lawyers.”

Her head immediately turns to Gary, whose attention is fully involved in the blueberry muffin in his hands. He raises his head at the sensation of your stares and after a few seconds asks;

“Is it rent controlled?”

“No.”

“Carmy bother to ask for a copy of the contract?”

“...no.”

“Then no. Sorry.” He answers with a shrug and digs back into his muffin. “...man I love these things…”

You sigh and look at Syd again, your eyes travel down to the familiar shade of blue, recognition cocking your head lightly to the side. “Is that my sweater?”

She looks down from her sandwich and shakes her head, stretching out her arm so you can see the little embroidered name on the sleeve. “Matching one’s , remember?”

“Oh, yeah…” You say with a head, remembering the day you bought the matching sweaters, along with the dress for Joyce’s wedding. “I like the little pattern.”

She swallows her bite and gives you a proud smile, posing from side to side so you can see the design better. You snigger at her little movements while everyone falls into a soft hum of conversation, mostly discussing the things that they still have to finish. You’re half way through your coffee when Carmy and Natalie finally walk into the room, immersed in a heated discussion over not having enough budget to cover the cost of ‘some stupidly ridiculous door knobs that no one’s even gonna notice, Carmen.’

“I’m gonna notice, okay?”

“Yeah, well if you’ve got six grand to spare, go pick ‘em up from Italy yourself, they’re a no Carm- hey hun.” Natalie cuts off the conversation by greeting you, leaning in to give you a hug and missing the frown over her brother’s face.

She sighs into the hug, holding on to you longer than usual. You don’t make an effort to move away, instead you rub your palms lightly over her back and ask a quiet ‘Everything okay Nat?’ into her hair.

“Yeah-” She says, pulling away and clearing her throat. “-yeah. Just that time of the month, y’know.”

Natalie brushes your worry away with a thin smile and turns to grab her lunch. Your eyes follow her through the room until she disappears into the kitchen, then you look back to the untouched cup of coffee with her name wrapped around the middle.

You can feel Carmy’s presence lingering beside you and the warmth of his hand on your center back sparks a smile over your lips. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He repeats, bright eyes darting around your soft features as his palm rubs timid circles between your shoulder blades.

Carmy isn’t one for a public display of affection, instead he enjoys the quiet touches. The lingering looks across a crowded room and wrapping his fingers over your soft hand when he thinks no one is looking.

“I brought you hashbrowns.” You say and push a grease stained paper bag in his direction.

“Oh. thanks.” He says only letting you go once the savory scent reaches his nose. You notice the familiar chase of blue again, except now keeping your boyfriend warm and you smile to yourself. “Kasama?” He asks.

“No- I wish, but they’re closed today. It’s Minelli’s from down the street. Second best…”

“Yeah-” He chuckles lightly. “-second best. Thank you.”

Your grin grows to your tinted cheeks, blue irises drawing you in and you look away in fear that your cheeks might burst from cuteness.

“Yo, everyone say thank you for the food?” Carmy asks loudly around the room.

A chorus of jumbled up yes dad’s and thank you’s echoes back and makes you laugh. “It’s no problem. I was planning on helping out today anyway-”

Carmy shakes his head and chews faster, wiping the crumbs of the hashbrown off his hands and onto the sides of his jeans.

“Thank you, but no- you’ve already done enough-” He tries to dismiss before Syd cuts him off.

“That’s perfect actually- I need someone to finish packing dishware.”

“Yeah, I can do that-”

“-No…”

“-Carmy-”

“-Syd-”

“-Carmy.” You interrupt in an overly sweet tone that has his eyes darting in your direction. There’s a shuffle of movement as the staff take their food and slowly begin to shuffle away, leaving only you two. “Why not?”

“It’s your day off. I don’t want you spending it stuck in here…” He answers with a sigh.

“It’s just dishware…” You shrug and tilt your head slightly, hoping that he gives in with the look you’re giving him.

Carmy searches around your face for a few seconds then pinches the bridge of his nose and nods. “...okay fine, just- don’t hurt yourself… everything’s fuckin’ gross right now.” He runs a hand through his hair and watches you agree happily. “Alright, I gotta go talk to Nat ‘bout some stuff, but I’ll check on you later.”

Carmy reaches out a hand to gently knead your forearm, then quickly turns around.

”Hey-wait-” You call out to him, lowering your voice to a whisper. “Don’t you see somethin’ weird about your sister?” You ask, eying her suspiciously through the little window that peeks into the kitchen.

“What? What d'you mean?” Carmy answers.

“I dunno. She just seems… off.”

“Stress… I guess- I dunno. Probably nothin’.” He brushes off, but you eye her for a few seconds longer as he moves again towards the back.

**********

There isn’t a part of you that’s not covered in a thin layer of dust or sweat since you got to The Beef- The Bear- 'Dammit.’ It’s a strange situation to see, you had never known the place could be so quiet, gloomy or empty.

The walls had been stripped of any trace of personality, leaving only the dusty shadows of frames marking the white paint. The front windows were patched with old newspapers, blocking out the light and giving the space a more depressing feel each time you climbed back up the basement stairs.

You have spent all afternoon packing up utensils and throwing out silverware that had known better days. Carmy had passed by a few times and insisted you should save yourself before the place swallowed you up, but all he got was a snigger and a soft pat on the cheek. ‘It already has.’ You say with a smile, before moving to tape up one of the boxes.

Between scrolling through apartment listings and packing most of the dishware up, you hadn’t noticed you were almost working in the dark until Richie flicked the switch and you were startled by the change in lighting.

“Thanks.” You say with a head nod that he reciprocates. “You good?”

He nods again, though mostly by inertia. “Yeah- yeah I’m good. Just, um, dropped off Ava at her mom’s.”

“How is she?”

“Oh I dunno- I didn’t see her-”

“-I meant Ava.”

“Oh, she’s great!” He answers with a new found glow over his face. “Yeah- she’s been really getting into painting recently. Oh, you should see her- she’s so good! I’ve been thinking about signing her up for classes, but they’re fuckin’ expensive, y’know?”

“Why don’t you just put her in mine?” You state like it’s obvious and shrug, sorting out the last pile of forks.

“Yo-wait, seriously?” Richie asks in a perplexed tone.

“Sure, I can talk Marge into a family discount or somethin’, if you want.”

“Yeah- no that’d be great, I’ma go tell her the good news… thanks.” You shrug again and offer him a smile before he turns back around. Then you hear his familiar voice from inside the kitchen shout “Yo cuz, your girl’s The O.G.!”

His excitement causes you to shake your head and a small chuckle to escape through your nose as your attention falls back into the silverware. The repetitive action keeps you busy enough in your head that you don’t notice Carmy’s steps moving in your direction.

“Here.” He says, placing a glass of water by the pile of stained forks and quickly leaning down to peck your hair.

“Oh, thanks.” You say back with a small smile and crack your strained knuckles before holding the glass up and taking a sip.

“I think I’ll be a bit longer, Syd wants to talk menu. You don’t mind?”

You nod and swallow the fresh liquid. “No, don’t mind.”

“Y’sure? It’s pretty late and I don’t know how long it’ll take.” He asks again, one hand pushing back the stray hairs that have fallen out of your ponytail throughout the day. “I know you’re probably tired, sorry.”

You shake your head and reach a hand up to rub the stubble on his cheek. “ Carm, you’re good. Go take care of the menu. I’ll finish here and you can look for me in the office once you’re done.” You smile up at him and give him a gentle pat.

Carmy wraps his hand carefully around your wrist and turns his head to kiss the heart of your palm. There’s still a faint scar of your accident with the pears and the peeler, but he tries not to mention it. He lets go of your hand with a shy smile and a sigh and moves back into the kitchen, where he’s spent most of the afternoon.

The rest of the silverware doesn’t take you more than fifteen minutes to finish and you only notice the slight protesting ache coming from your knees while dropping off the last box downstairs. Rolling out the tension on your neck, you move into the empty office and slouch over the old chair that you hope they replace in the future.

With only the dim yellow desk lamp illuminating the room and the sudden fatigue falling on your shoulders, the corners of your vision begin to blur. You fold your arms over the desk and rest your head above it with eyes closed, getting ready for a short nap. Carmy would wake you up in a few minutes anyway and you’d finally get to go home.

**********

A sense of guilt deepened the frown over his face when he saw the uncomfortable position you were sitting in, one outstretched arm holding your head while the other hand curled under your chin. He didn’t expect for the first ideas of the menu to take that long- half an hour at most- but when he pulled his phone out to show Syd a reference photo, the clock read ten minutes to midnight and his brows raised in shock. He called it a day and promised Syd they’d continue tomorrow, then scrambled to the office where he found you heavily asleep.

He moves towards your slump body and crouches down to your side, hand moving away the pieces of hair that have fallen over your face.

“Honey...” You grumble softly and hide your face deeper into your arm. “Baby, c’mon let’s go home.”

Carmy tries to stifle the smile that forms from his words and from the cute noise you make in protest.

“What time is it…?” You ask, finally opening your eyes and stretching out your numb arms.

“Almost midnight- m’sorry, I didn’t notice the time.”

You blink your eyes several times to try and refocus your gaze, then smile lightly when you catch his stare. “What’s wrong?”

His grin turns slightly down in confusion. “Why, uhm, why would- why would you think that?” He asks in a low voice.

Pushing yourself off the desk, you prop up your elbow and rest your head over your palm, sleepy eyes set on him. “You’re over apologizing again.”

Carmy's eyes widen lightly then shrink with a grin, turning to the floor. He looks back up to your amused smile and points a finger to your nose. “wow…” He whispers and leans his forehead against yours.

After a few silent seconds, Carmy takes in a deep breath and pulls away after kissing the space between your eyes.

“So what is it?” You ask again and watch him straighten his knees and lean beside you on the desk.

“Turns out we might be over budget…”

“Over the whole 300k?” You repeat in slight surprise as he nods. “How much?”

“‘Bout 130k and counting.”

“...shit.” Is the only appropriate response that comes to mind.

“Yeah…” He agrees absentmindedly.

“So… Jimmy?” You say after a while. knowing the answer before he even finishes pinching the bridge of his nose.

“...yeah. He’s comin’ in tomorrow mornin’.”

You slowly nod back in acknowledgment, then push away from the desk to stand beside him. Your head drops to his shoulder and his’ immediately follows yours. “You’re gonna need a killer pitch.” You mumble and he responds with a short laugh.

Carmy wraps an arm around you and guides you both out the office, switching off the light and closing the door.

“Before I forget, I have some places for us to check out next week, you’re sure you can make it?” You ask him once outside the warm building, wrapping your jacket tighter around you before your teeth begin to chatter.

“Yeah, I’ll probably have to meet you there, though.” He answers as he finishes locking the side door.

“That’s fine- I just wanna make sure you’re there… I don’t wanna choose somethin’ you’re not gonna like.”

“I’ll be there.” He assures with an insistent nod.

Carmy notices how the peaks of your face begin to dust with a slight pink and he leans closer, putting an arm around your shoulders, for warmth. You look up at his face with a soft smile, eyes tracing over his features- mostly hidden under the shade of his baseball hat- and your hand holding onto his arm. As simple as that, you believe him.

**********

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat, @redsakura101 , @hobisunshine13 and that’s it lmao

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light-purp-insect · 1 year ago

Text

A Hesitant Rest (Zevlor BG3 x GN unspecified Tav)

Notes/warnings: SFW, fluff, domestic feelings, mentions of other companions, Astarion being himself at the end, not beta read, sleeping together (literally), slight depictions of anxiety, slight nudity (undressing in the company of another person), very light spoilers, possibly fast paced? (Read author's notes below for context), very little dialogue

This was just an excuse to write something in two days to finally put another fic on my blog, as well as hopefully an introduction for fans of Baldur's Gate 3 to send asks.

The fire of the camp was on its last embers, the bright hot orange ashes going into the sky but no crackle left. It made the little clearing have such little lighting, the only main source being an occasional lantern or candle left out near a tent before their inhabitant went to bed. That or Karlach’s internal workings giving a glow through the thin fabric of her tent, but that was always to be expected. Speaking of, I don’t even remember why I’m still up. It's not like anyone will attack us, I’ve noticed very few creatures are even interested in us. But then again, I couldn’t be certain. For all I knew, there could be a bear that wasn’t Halsin or perhaps a crazed Drow or–

You notice the dull red tip of a pointed tail of your tiefling friend, Zevlor, twitch back and forth. His eyes scanned the camp and the outskirts of the trees until falling onto you. You could see the initial shock of realizing you were awake melt into delight. The bowl of food next to him had gone cold a while ago, but so did yours. He motions for you to come closer with a hand, and you oblige without much convincing.

Eventually you find yourself on the ground next to him in silence. Your hand in his, more for his comfort than trying to be cuddly, his tail begins to become more alive. In particular his tail went from nervously flicking in the dirt to being pressed against your side and the tip swishing to pat your thigh.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“I'm afraid not, dear.”

His voice sounded a little defeated. He had gotten older and the stress of the loss of several Hellriders still was fresh in his mind. In his mind he still felt terrible, no matter how many times you tried to convince him it wasn't his fault for having his mind essentially possessed. To be honest he wanted to sleep next to you, you knew how to handle him the best.

“I have a few extra pillows, would you-..?” He doesn't finish his sentence, hoping you would be able to take his hint. To reiterate his question, he points to his tent with a clawed finger and tilts his head slightly. Once again you oblige to his silent offers. With a slightly pained groan, he gets up from the ground and guides you away towards his tent.

Much like he had said, on the rather rudimentary mattress was a few extra pillows and an old woven blanket for the both of you. From the inside, he turns and closes the fabric flap to the tent and begins to shuck the light armor from his body. The old leather falls unceremoniously to a little corner as he stretches his back with another groan. His tail slowly swishing around behind him as he continues to undress, giving you some privacy as you do as well.

Within a short time, he has stripped down to his old and worn boxers, the hoary fabric ripped slightly along the waistband and one of the side seams had been hastily restitched quite a while ago. His once lean body had gotten softer in some areas from age, of course still having to be well maintained from his previous years of travels. He had a few pink scars littering his figure, but nothing that looked particularly gnarly or uncomfortable to live with.

Eventually he turned back to you, giving a small smile that made his nasolabial lines more visible. He had bathed next to you a few times, so you weren't anything especially new to see in little clothing. He hunkers down on the poorly made mattress and waits patiently for you to follow. “It's been a little while since I was last able to sleep next to someone.” He muttered before looking away.

When he felt the bed sink under your weight, he looked back up. His gaze softened every second you were close. He needed this, something to comfort him tonight. The two of you languidly lay your heads on the pillows, and Zevlor momentarily readjusts himself so he wasn't laying on his horns.

As the two of you lay under the covers, eyes closed and silent, you feel the dull edge of a clawed hand. Did Zevlor want to hold you? It wouldn't be anything particularly out-of-the-ordinary, after all you had been through with this adventure. From under the blanket you guide his hand against your side. He gives a thankful huff in response.

And then, something you hadn't even thought he would do had happened. You had a feeling he wanted some contact, but now he had his arms wrapped around you and cradling your head to his chest. He smelt like the leather of his armor and had the faintest hint of smoke, probably from staying by the fire for so long. The tiefling languidly entertwined the both of your legs together, finally finding the warmth he so desperately craved. And you let him, he deserved something soft for once.

“Thank you, darling.” He purred– not in a lustful or lecherous way, but an actual feline-adjacent pur. You could feel by the blanket that his tail was sleepily wagging, clearly delighted you would let him have this. A pair of lips press to the crown of your head and stay there. You finally speak once again, wanting him to hear your voice before he drifted off to bed. “You're welcome, Zevlor.”

-- -- -- --

As the pale elf came back to the camp from his feeding, he instinctively decided to check the tents of his other companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Zev– oh. Well, at least he wouldn't need to check your tent tonight. He grined at the awfully sweet sight of the both of you asleep in the other's arms. He had a feeling he would tease one of you later, but he would allow you to rest before so.

#Av writes for once #zevlor bg3 #Zevlor Baldur's Gate 3 #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader #zevlor x you #zevlor #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fic

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affectionate-team · 2 years ago

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Books are but a fantasy

A quick historical fantasy kinda scenario, based on yet another (old and silly) dream of mine.

One-sided (or not...?) King!Malleus × Criminal!Reader, MC is gn and not a very good person (because why do all yuus have to be nice??), written without any serious intentions and simply out of boredom. Will proofread tomorrow.

You were dragged into a small carriage in cuffs. Thick metal bars on windows and heavy magic-induced locks, as well as a pair of royal guards that had caught you, were separating you from freedom. You were ambushed a while after departing from another small forgotten village you had found refuge in. Briar Valley knights have always been diligent - a bother to escape from. Having built yourself a reputation of a self-proclaimed protector of by committing crimes against nobility. Bitter and full of resentment, many of your victims filed piles complains, all sent to the royal Court, some even to the High Judge and king himself. In a short time your presence in a local town was reported to guards, which resulted in a long and tiring chase halfway across the country. There's not much one magicless human could do against a line of armed warriors - eventually, you were caught.

After a long while of shaking, stumbling and tripping over rocks, the carriage enters Royal grounds through massive gothic gates, rising high into the darkening sky, bringing the hour of judgment closer.

"I know it's not the first time I say that, Your Highness, but, for the Sevens, isn't it time for you to at least consider starting a family? The whole kingdom is waiting for you to secure your kind and produce an heir."

"I am considering it. But the right person has yet to come into my life."

"Royals and nobles from both our and other countries have-"

"I wish to have nothing with them."

"You can't just wait for a 'right person' to run into you like in your books, Draconia!... Stop sulking, and don't you look at me with those eyes - I am a warrior, a general, not a nanny to wipe at your tears."

The young king was just as stubborn as his mother used to be. Lilia, the king's advisor, used-to-be war general, adored him like his own son, having raised him after the past king and queen's unexpected passing. Mind young like that of a fresh teenage boy, Malleus dreamt of love straight out of a fairytale: requited love, long passionate talks under the moon, walks in the garden hand in hand. Nothing short of it - that's what he desired. But, after over a century of waiting, after dozens and possibly hundreds of rejected proposals (each time for different reasons), all hope was lost on him. Now, the fae have lowered their expectations, ready to accept any outcome, only if that meant they'll live long enough to see and celebrate birth of a new Draconia.

...if any regular person walked in right now, they would not recognize a royal in this pouting heap, covered by two heavy blankets and surrounded by silk pillows. Sounds coming from the pile were also more of a wounded dog than a fearsome ruler. With a deep sigh, Lilia walked out the king's chambers to ask a maid to fetch three servings of 'ice cream' - a treat he knew Malleus has come to love and indulge in during times of bad mood.

Still bound at hands, but now led along the cold castle walls with two tall guards at both sides, you reach another set of doors, these being, surprisingly, even more majestic and rich than the ones you saw a dozen steps before. They open by themselves, enveloping the hallway in an angelic blinding light, seeping through the gap and crawling closer to your feet. The guards urge you to step inside.

A trial is... going to start. Very soon. Any moment now. Definitely in the meantime.

Stood on dark emerald carpet with silver embroidery, you steal glances at your surroundings: noble faes and other residents of the Briar Valley have come to witness the judgment that the king will bestow upon you... but he hasn't present. His two loyal retainers stand still as stone near a throne, but even their faces are not void of confusion and anxiety.

Hushed whispers get interrupted by a short man with a ridiculous haircut barging in, quickly regaining composure while dragging an annoyed man - you recognize him as The Malleus Draconia - by a sleeve. Nobody seems to pay this scene much mind, welcoming their lord with a round of applause.

Reciting all your crimes has taken up a great while, to the point where a silver-haired knight, placed at the left of Draconia, has dozed off. What's interesting is that the king cared enough to hear you out, despite many nobles voicing out their protests and outright demanding an undelayed public execution.

"Tell me, child of man, do you find yourself guilty? Have you got any remorse?"

"I do not. What I've done was nothing short of just, as all I did was punish the greedy and save life of those in need. I have got no respect for ones that only have money and titles to be proud of."

All is said with determination burning in your eyes, stance strong, but not aggressive. The view sparkles a sense of admiration (and a hint of familiarity...) in the king's heart.

"So, being but a fragile human, you are ready to face any dangers, if only it means you could right all the world's wrongs and stay true to yourself?"

"Absolutely."

Fearless, bold, righteous- just what he wanted to see.

"Unchain them. Lilia, order the maids and butlers to prepare a guestroom. I hereby dismiss all charges against this child of man."

Seemingly proud of his decision and ignorant to the rampage he left behind, not limited to bewildered and outright condemning looks on his retainers' faces, Draconia departs from the Court Hall.

In no time, you were housed, bathed and dressed in a fancy attire with choking-tight corset. Before the maids could cake your face in heavy powder, you usher them out, sliding down the door and breathing out in relief. Though you are given no break, with how soon the door gets broken down by a swift kick from a menacing mint-haired knight. He insists (to say it gently) on accompanying you to dining hall, as "Lord Malleus is requesting your presence! It is my duty to make sure a filthy criminal like yourself will not run away and cause more trouble than you already have!"

The knight, Sebek, pushes you into the dining hall, locking doors shut right after. In this big room, it's only the two of you now.... And general Lilia.

During the whole dinner Lilia stares you down, taking apart your words, gestures and overall behavior, trying to come to some conclusion of his own. At one point you swear you hear him bend down to Draconia's ear and whisper 'THIS is who you want to choose?? And here I was sure sophisticated tastes run in your family...' But the man only swats at his advisor, leaning forward, head supported by palms, to have a better look at you.

"I must admit, I find your courage quite... admirable. Not a single soul has ever been so bold with me - not without being turned to ash right after, at least. You seem to be... different, in a way."

"...thank you?"

The next hour or so is dedicated to Draconia- ("Call me Malleus", he insisted) passionately rambling about his obsessive love for gargoyles and ancient architecture, and you having to listen, nodding along and adding a rare "Ooh" and "I see" as you pick food in your plate. Nevertheless, Malleus seems content, biding you farewell with a pleased smile and softened eyes.

Few days have passed in entertaining Malleus with strolls, talks and privste tea parties. Now is a good opportunity to set the next part of plan in motion. Having gathered gossip from local residents, you found a passage, leading to the secret royal library, holding valuablr books and powerful artifacts. Among them is a book you're looking for. The room is located on one of the highest floors, which forces you to walk various sets of steps in an uncomfortable outfit - but all is worth getting that book in your disposal. You find it among many other books, secured by magical seals. Good thing such spells are useless against magicless humans.

A week was all you needed to bring the plan to its climax. Dressed in Sunset Savanna's military uniform, epaulets speaking of one of the highest of ranks, you watch the remainders of Briar Valley warriors scatter, left in little numbers. As the scene of burned grass and collapsed stone walls quietens down, Lord Kingscholar, exhausted from the long battle but still standing, followed by a few of his knights, healers and servants, makes his appearance. You kneel before your King, head lowered in respect.

"Rise".

Straightforward and bold, just how he always is.

"Are you pleased with my work, your Highness? Now there's space for a castle of your own, and as the Capital has fallen, the rest of the country will soon follow."

He amuses you with a short chat, faint hints of pride for placing trust in you. Any and all concern about his state is brushed off with a scoff.

As the King later walks off to plan on what to make of his new land, you make your way back to the partly destroyed throne room. There, on the rough charred floor, in a pathetic heap laid Malleus. No longer will anyone fear the fallen king, rendered to a pitiful state, worn out from being forced into an unfair battle. Your shadow falls over his shaking form.

"How curious. Just yesterday, I remember seeing you on the throne, so high and mighty. Now, I believe you'll make a fine souvenir - my Lord allowed me to take one back home, as an extra reward for a flawless execution of his will. You've manage to captivate me quite a bit, you know?"

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yuurei's fics #gender neutral reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #leona kingscholar #x reader #I still remember this dream like it happened a day before #being an unhinged knight slash spy was pretty fun to be frank...

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neko-artist-meow · 9 months ago

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Well, here's my work (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠) I tried my best.(⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

---------------------------------------------------

Eversince Alice and her two bestfriends encountered Dark Wizards in the Forbidden Forest and stopped them from smuggling Magical Creatures to sell in the Dark Marke. They got caught into a life threatening battle and Alice suffered a severe injury that left her unconscious on the bed for days.

Since then Daniel and Ivy swore to themselves never to step into the Forest again, they both sank in guilt remembering the day their bestfriend was fighting for her life on the Hospital Wing when they got rescued.

Everyday they come to visit Alice since she was confined, always noticing a fresh set of flowers on the vase of her bedside table that a random stranger had committedly change before it withers.

It was a bouquet of sunflower's that are carefully arranged on the flower pot, they thought whoever gave them to Alice also reminded them of the latter, ever radiant and beautiful like the sun.

It was a rainy day for Hogwarts but the coldness of the weather only added to the loneliness they felt, now that their friend who was like the sun cannot give off its warmth and light.

Unbeknownst to them, they werent the only ones who often come to visit the girl. Everyday after they left, a certain Hogwarts student whom they least expect, is waiting patiently for them to leave to have a moment on her own with Alice.

While using an invisibility potion she changes the flowers everyday making it appear after an hour til the potions last, hoping one day once Alice wakes up, she will smile at the sight of it knowing it was her favorite.

The bouquet of sunflowers was carefully arranged on the vase before Cassandra approached the occupant of the bed.

"You probably wonder why I always come to visit you." she said as she sat down looking at the peaceful face of Alice sleeping. It wasnt new to her seeing the latter's sleeping face since they share the same room but this time she felt a stinging pain in her chest, because this time's different.

She remembered that time when she was the one lying in the Hospital Wing and Alice visited her everyday and rushed as soon as she woke up, even taking care of her rose while she was away.

"You can also say I'm being suspicious for caring for your well being, then I'll laugh at you too, just like the last time we did back then." she lightly laugh to herself, then tears started to form on the corner of her eyes. She rests her head on the side of the bed facing Alice, reaching for her hand and intertwining their fingers together.

"I wanted to hurt your friends so badly for what they brought upon you, but I know you'll probably scold me for that, although those savages deserve it.

So when you've returned, dont expect me to treat those rubbish little friends of yours any good."

She placed the hand closely to her lips, feeling the urge to kiss them just like how Alice do with her knuckles. Then her eyes spotted a box of candies from Honeydukes beside Alice's pillow, a frown suddenly etching on her goddess like features.

Thinking it was probably from Ivy since she heard from Alice that it was the girl's favorite shop whenever they visit Hogsmeade. She took the box by the hand and remembered how often she see's Alice being dragged around by Ivy like they were something. She gripped tightly around the box, ruining its form and thrown it away harshly on one of the drawers of the bedside table.

"I still dont have the slightest idea what you've seen in Ivy, Im obviously much better than her in everything." she scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

There was never a day that she always thought that Alice shouldve chosen her instead of Ivy, if only she allowed her to sit beside her on their first train to Hogwarts.

"She's obviously manipulating you to drag you in her troubles and yet you still take her side whenever we fought like pretending to be some good girl."

If only back then she did, then it was her who was always on Alice's side, probably laughing with her on all her ridiculous stories and she would set them up on excursions with just the two of them.

It must've been her who got the chance to make Alice smile everyday, hold her hand and gaze on her face closely all the time.

The sudden thought brought a question to herself because it sounded that she actually wanted more than just friendship.

Is there more to what she wanted?

Does she want Alice to treat her more than how she treat her friend's or does she want to be more than just her friend?

Cassandra had a puzzled look on her eyes, then a burst of wind entered the room and swept some of Alice's hair on her face.

She sat beside her unconscious body, one slim hand carefully brushing all through the soft strands of hair that had flewn to the latter's face.

A set of soft green emerald eyes focused on Alice's serene-looking face, a sight she'll definitely never grow tired of.

All her uncertainty vanished and was instantly replaced with the feeling of longing, then she finally understood.

All this time she was inlove.

"Truth be told... I was jealous."

"Im jealous that you look happier with her and you have a lot of time to spend with her than with me, maybe its because I always pushed you away that you thought I hated you, but I never really did... You always brighten up my days that I often talk to my plants about you and they seemed to like you too."

"I always told you that you're ruining my solitude but in fact I was really happy when you always come to check up on me, I love how fast you rush to my aid whenever one of Hagrid's creatures come to ruin my beautiful garden, I love it when you bring me weird stuff's I dont know I actually needed but you noticed."

"I love how you noticed all those little things and take care of those precious to me, even my cat... Lyncus is a bit grumpy to me lately and probably misses you too eversince, so please get well as soon as possible..I just cant bear to see you here anymore and probably wish you'll never end up here again."

One hand cupping the soft cheeks of Alice, she leaned close and softly kissed the latter's forehead, remembering how Alice used to do it whenever it was her who felt down and it made her feel comfortable.

Her heart beated loud seeing the face of Alice closer that she could ever get, it made her cheeks turn red as her eyes wandered towards the latter's lips, her curiosity deepened with every second.

She wanted to taste the lips and be the first one to feel it, thinking how sweet it'll probably be. The lips of Alice that only spouted all good things about her despite her wrong doings and even had the courage to scold her whenever its necessary.

She leaned in thinking nobody is ever going to find out and gently kissed Alice's lips with her own. Her lips trembled along with the warm feeling in her heart and with every move she made, she felt a different sense of fear for the first time. The fear of being caught and the feeling of being rejected by Alice, nonetheless she was afraid because she was inlove and fear was never her thing not until now.

She now holds something dear to her, more than her pride. As she slowly pulled away she reminisce the feeling and stored it in her precious memories.

She remembered their Tessomancy Project at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and the second reading that Alice did for her.

And it seems that the tessomancy was no more a mystery and is finally clear to her, it was Alice she was inloved all along, her exact polar opposite, and someone she never expected to get along with. Although at that moment, it was actually Alice who first appeared on her mind but she was confused at that time.

"You were the one being told at the Tessomancy..it was you..Im inlove with you, Alice Vayne."

She lied beside her like they usually do together everytime they got back to the dorm. She turned around towards Alice and placed her other arm around the latter's body hugging her as she nuzzle in her neck.

It was raining hard outside the castle but she never felt so comfortable and warm just being beside Alice. The feeling that she gave her was always enough to remind herself that she was also partly human and not just some part Veela and a Student who needs to meet up expectations and be charming most of the time.

With Alice she was normal and exists just like the other people out there.

If for herself she was perfect, to Alice she was also flawed like the others.

For her flaw was an ugly thing, to Alice it was the most beautiful thing that makes someone human, and she made her looked at it the same as she does.

It made her feel wonderful knowing that she can still be beautiful with a flaw.

She remembered how Alice told her that she remind her of a rose, someone a bit thorny but beautiful.

"I wish I could be your rose, your only rose."

Fifty minutes have passed and Madam Pomfrey finally stood up from her desk just behind the curtain near Alice's bed. It was the time she routinely check on the students health, and before it was Alice's turn Cassandra had finally left like a thief of the night.

After Madam Pomfrey checked on all Alice' s wounds and applied the necessary treatment.

"Young love and very unexpected one indeed." she said with a teasing smile.

Unbeknownst to Cassandra who was sneaking to visit Alice using an invisibility potion, Madam Pomfrey is actually immune to the effects of invisibility potion the main reason why she decided to become a nurse to prevent her patient's from escaping treatment.

"I think its probably best not to let anyone know even your friends, especially Miss Vole that you are already awake eversince this morning, do you agree Miss Vayne?"

"Yes, I think so too." Alice replied with her cheeks blushing mad and heart beating as loud as it should.

"After all, you still have to get completely healed because that sweet confession of Miss Vole surely does deserve a proper response." she said teasingly.

"It sure does, yeah.." she breathed heavily trying to calm herself "Is it common for students waking up from the Hospital Wing and have a relationship the next day Madam Pomfrey?" her smile was like a sudden beam of sunlight that could light up even the darkest corners of the room.

"Yes very common indeed." she replied smiling genuinely.

The fresh set of sunflowers appeared in the vase on her bedside table. Sunflowers were indeed her favorite because it reminded her of the day she saw Cassandra in the fields of sunflowers, taking her Venomous tentacula and talk sweetly to it like it was human for the first time. The same day that she fell inlove with the person bullying her friends and admired her golden hair that shine like sunflower petals.

"I love her too."

#cassandra vole x mc #hpma oc #hp magic awakened

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memedrome · 1 year ago

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Weird or Witty Insults

'The closest you'll come to a brainstorm is a light drizzle.'

'I have neither the time nor the crayons necessary to explain this to you.'

'I have seen slugs that were more attractive than you.'

'What doesn't kill you disappoints the rest of us.'

'I will not have a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent.'

'You're weapons-grade stupid.'

'You're a sentient menstrual cramp.'

'May both sides of your pillow be warm tonight!'

'I hope your tea is too hot when you get it and too cold when you remember it.'

'May you always step in a wet spot after putting on fresh socks!'

'Just why are you such a lickspittle?"

'Even a mooncalf is more attentive than you are right now.'

'I hope you step on a Lego.'

#Rp Meme #Meme Prompts #Sentence Meme #Icebreaker Meme #Memedrome Memes

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narrators-journal · 10 months ago

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King Leo Tatsuya suou x Joker (jun) pleaseeeee!!!

So! I tried my best to make this good, and I hope I succeeded! It ws fun to think of while writing it, sort of an AU idea! Sorry if it didn’t come across super clear tho, I didn’t want this to be super long lol.

“Leo~” Sang the screech-y jester who sat on the edge of his curtained bed. His icy blue eyes aglow in the candle lit darkness of his bedchambers. “Why won’t you even sit with me, King Leo? Are you still sore about the…hiring process.” He asked. The smugness in his layered voice like a needle to the tall brunette who stood by the bedchamber door. Yet, the tall man continued to avoid a single glance to the demon.

“Or is it my voice? Would you prefer I use the one you’re more...familiar with?” Joker asked. And, with each word, the screech and feminine edge of his voice ebbed. In it’s wake, a voice so light, airy, and familiar that it tied a knot in Tatsuya Suou’s stomach remained. Even before the demonic man could wrap his arms around his waist from behind.

But, no matter how warm Jun’s voice made him, Tatsuya refused to look back at him. He kept his brown eyes focused on the wall of the bedchamber. His warm eyes only focused on the shadows that danced across the rough brick. That way, the weight of his fur-lined coat would melt away, and the metal collar Joker had locked onto his throat would fall off. Then, it would be as if his hair-brained deal to take Sudou’s title had never happened.

Though, of course, he could tell by the way the demon pressed his chest to him, and coiled his tail around his thigh, that the shorter male didn’t like that plan. “King Leo. Tatsuya Suou. Give me attention or I will gut your precious friends while you fucking watch.” So, with a sigh, he finally spoke. “What do you want, Master Joker.” “I've told you, I want your attention.” The demon said with a dark affection. His thin tail squeezing the flesh of the tall man’s thigh as if for punctuation. “But didn’t you say you hate me for what I did in the past? Why are you this desperate for my attention now?” Tatsuya asked for the millionth time, only to get the same annoyed growl he always got. “How many times do I have to say it? You’ve sinned, and I am going to take my sweet time punishing you for it. Because not even the devil can torment you like I can.” Joker reminded, his clawed hand suddenly tangled in Tatsuya’s hair to yank his head back for the demon to growl. “And the first step to that is breaking your disgusting confidence. Making you my mewling, pathetic slave so you’ll be helpless to stop me in the future steps.” “I’m already pretty helpless, Jun. You’ve got me in a collar and under your thumb, remember?” The brunette said through grit teeth. “If you were under my thumb, you’d look at me, Suou.” Joker snarled in his ear, before he used his hold on the brunette’s hair to drag the tall man over to his bed. “You can’t lie to me again and think I’ll buy it. I may look like that pathetic brat you knew as a kid, but I’ve evolved beyond that.” He told Tatsuya with barred fangs. And, as he spoke, he threw Tatsuya onto the mattress as if he were nothing but a fresh, laundered pillow. Unbothered when he scrambled to sit up and glare at him. “Well if you're annoyed by that fact, why don't you do more to ‘break’ me? You’re fucking around and we both know it.” He shot back as the demon’s snake-like tail lashed from side to side behind him while his icy eyes burned into him.

Those cold eyes glowed like a royal fire, yet Joker’s skin remained pale under the candle light. That uneven source of light only strong enough to turn the demon’s horned silhouette into a nightmarish visage. But, to Tatsuya, all he could see was Jun kurosu.

Which, without his mask, was who Master Joker was. Jun Kurosu, an angry, grieving childhood friend of Tatsuya’s. Not a demon, nor a god. Only vengeful and lonely, even as he bore razor sharp fangs at the tall brunette on the curtained bed.

The brunette could see it in the eye that his shaggy black hair nor mask covered. So, it was all too easy for him to put his hands up to the demon’s demands. “Fine. I’ll give you attention. No need to go throwing a hissy fit.” He said plainly, able to see the annoyance in the Joker’s eye at the way he caved so fast. Both aware that it wasn’t a true submission, only a placation to the night’s demands. When morning came, the new king leo would be back to the cold, resistant self.

But, for the time being, Jun simply crawled onto the bed and laid his head in Tatsuya’s warm lap to curl up like a cat. His tail relaxed in an instant, his aggression gone in favor of being pet and cuddled. Per usual.

#Persona 2 #Tatsujun #Joker!Jun x King leo!Tatsuya #persona #scenario #ask #king leo au #alternate universe #au #Tatsuya Suou #Jun Kurosu

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