#i’ve only known sage for

[speakercrab666]

i made a new friend today and they immediately clocked me as a fnaf fan. he was giving me this suspicious little look while i was talking and i stopped and went “u look like ur assessing me” and he squinted and went “i am… fnaf?” and i was like hahahahaha YES my favourite character is lolbit and i watched the movie in the cinema dressed as the marionette we are going to be good friends you and i lad we are going to get along just swell :)

[kashverse]

yuji and papamin would probably collect a bunch of flowers for mamamin during their walks🥹💞

evening walks were sacred in the nanami household. they were as essential as brushing your teeth, drinking water, or nanami sighing dramatically at the state of the world. but tonight, you had to sit this one out, thanks to your monthly. yuuji, however, refused to let this injustice go unchallenged. "don’t worry, mama!" he declared, fists on his tiny hips. “i will walk extra for you! double! no, triple!” nanami, already anticipating the inevitable "papa, carry me" halfway through the walk, merely nodded. "that’s very kind of you, yuuji."

“yeah! and i will bring you back something nice!” 

with that, your brave, noble knight and his weary father set off into the cool evening air. 

it didn’t take long for yuuji’s side quest instincts to kick in.

"papa, look! flowers!"

nanami followed his son's pointing finger to a random field of wildflowers. pink, yellow, blue, purple—the whole place looked like a painter sneezed on it. yuuji marched in with purpose, stopping every few seconds to pick a flower, inspecting each one with a level of intensity that made nanami slightly concerned. "this one is pink, like babykuna's hair!" he beamed, twirling a tiny blossom in his fingers. “this one is soft, like your bread, papa!” nanami raised an eyebrow. "my bread is much softer."

"yeah, but I can’t pick your bread from the ground."

nanami opened his mouth, then closed it. fair point. but then came the hardest challenge of all. 

choosing colors.

yuuji, ambitious as ever, decided he needed every color that reminded him of you. which, apparently, was every single color known to mankind. and so, overwhelmed by his own high expectations, he dramatically plopped down in the middle of the field, arms spread like a fallen soldier. "papa, it's too hard," he whined. "mama likes all the colors. i can't pick them all. the world is too big."

nanami, who had not signed up for a philosophical crisis in the middle of an evening walk, sighed and crouched beside his son. "then take a little of everything, yuuji. that way, you won’t have to choose."

yuuji's eyes widened in awe, as if nanami had just revealed the meaning of life. "papa… you’re so smart."

"i try," nanami muttered, gathering some flowers and carefully helping yuuji tie them together with a sturdy piece of grass.

by the time they got home, yuuji stormed into the bedroom at full speed, launching himself onto the bed like a small, enthusiastic meteor. "mama, mama! i bringed—i mean, i brought you something!"

you barely had time to react before a very serious bouquet of wildflowers was shoved into your face. "i picked them just for you!" he beamed, chest puffed out with pride.

"oh, yuuji, they’re beautiful!" you cooed, admiring the colorful mess of flowers and slightly bent grass. meanwhile, nanami, who hadn’t even taken off his walking shoes, was already settling into place beside you, effortlessly resuming his official foot massager duties.

"you went through all this trouble just for me?" you asked, smiling down at your little boy. yuuji nodded furiously. "yep! i walked extra, i picked flowers, and i almost got lost in the big big world."

nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “he sat down in a field for five minutes.” yuuji pouted. "it was a long five minutes."

you giggled, reaching out to ruffle his soft pink hair. "thank you, sweetheart. this is the best bouquet I’ve ever gotten."

yuuji grinned so wide his cheeks almost swallowed his eyes. "i love you, mama!"

"i love you too, baby."

nanami pressed a tired kiss to your temple, still kneading your foot with expert precision. "i think I deserve some credit too," he murmured. "i carried him half the way back."

yuuji nodded sagely. "yeah. papa's muscles are the only reason i made it home alive."

you laughed, your heart full, as your two favorite boys settled in beside you—one with flowers, one with strong massage therapist hands, and both with all the love in the world.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

The second one is for Harry. I don’t have a plot for him tbh. Anything works…maybe something like James and lily are still alive and the reader is Sirius’ and Remus’ daughter (if you’re comfortable with that else she’s just Sirius’s daughter) and that her and Harry have feelings for each other but they make sure that their parents don’t know about this because they think they won’t approve but secretly Sirius and James have made a bet even before they were born that they’d end up dating.

Gonna sign off as - 👀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ bets

synopsis: you and harry have been sneaking around for months, convinced your parents would lose their minds if they found out. but when you finally confess, expecting chaos, sirius just sighs, james holds out his hand, and—wait… they bet on this?! content warnings: lots of fluff, harry and reader thinking they’re sneaky (they’re not), sirius mourning his lost galleons author's note: hey angel ♡ thank you so much for requesting!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 698

The morning started off innocently enough. You and Harry decided, with great trepidation and a little bit of sweaty-palmed hand-holding, that it was time to come clean to your parents. You’d spent months sneaking around, dodging suspicious looks and sharing whispered secrets under that big oak tree in the Potter backyard. But enough was enough. Today was the day.

At breakfast, you sit on one side of the table, gripping Harry’s hand under it like a lifeline. Across from you, James is mid-story, waving his coffee cup wildly, nearly splashing Sirius, who’s cackling in support. Remus stands by the stove flipping pancakes, while Lily is engrossed in her tea. It’s almost too peaceful. Almost.

You exchange a look with Harry, both of you gulping in unison. Here goes nothing.

You clear your throat, trying to sound calm and confident but ending up squeaking, “We have something to tell you.”

Every head swivels toward you. Four pairs of eyes lock on, and it’s like they’ve turned into your jury.

Sirius’s brows lift, eyes flicking to your joined hands, a smirk already forming. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

James takes a leisurely sip of his coffee, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“Uh… well, Harry and I…” You glance at him, wide-eyed. “We’re together. Dating. You know, in a relationship.”

Silence. Deafening, horrible silence. You brace yourself for the absolute chaos about to ensue—a dramatic gasp from Sirius, a whole speech from Remus, something. But instead…

“Oh, finally,” Remus sighs, flipping another pancake like he’s completely unfazed.

“Pay up, Padfoot.” James holds out a hand to Sirius with a smirk that could only mean one thing: they knew.

“Are you—are you betting on us?” Harry sputters, his face turning beet red.

Sirius lets out a long, overly dramatic sigh as he fishes out a handful of Galleons and plunks them into James’s waiting hand. “Yep. And I had my money on last Christmas, but nooo, you two had to make it as painful and drawn-out as possible.”

James shrugs, looking positively delighted. “I told him you two would take forever. I mean, you’re related to Sirius, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Oh, come on!” you snap, indignant. “You didn’t even wait for us to tell you?”

Sirius leans forward, smirking like he’s the world’s wisest sage. “Kid, you were about as subtle as a hippogriff in a teashop. ‘Oh, dad, we’re just going out to ‘study.’’” He air-quotes aggressively. “Or, ‘Oh, daddy, it’s so peaceful under the oak tree.’”

“Do you know how many times I nearly hexed you?” Remus says, shaking his head, clearly unimpressed. “Once or twice would’ve been fine, but the ‘study dates’? Please.”

Harry’s face falls into his hands, groaning. “So you… knew? This entire time?”

James snorts, leaning back with the air of someone who has been utterly vindicated. “Son, I’ve known since you looked at her like she’d personally invented Quidditch.” He raises a smug eyebrow at Lily. “Which, by the way, was second year.”

Lily laughs softly. “Second year, James? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

“Oh, not at all,” James replies with a flirty expression. “I’d know that look anywhere—it’s exactly how I used to look at you.”

You and Harry exchange an exasperated look. “So… none of you are upset?” you ask, bewildered.

Remus grins, nudging you both toward the table. “Not at all. In fact, this is excellent news because now I can finally use your time together as leverage for chores.”

Lily laughs, patting your shoulder with a wink. “Honestly, we were all just waiting to see how long you’d last before one of you cracked.”

Sirius, meanwhile, is dramatically clutching his chest. “I was holding out for the Christmas confession! So many prime opportunities wasted! I could have retired on those winnings!”

“Oh, get over it,” James says with a slap on his back. “We all saw it coming from a kilometer away.”

And as you and Harry sit there, faces hot with embarrassment and disbelief, the rest of them toast to the “official family binding,” clinking glasses and laughing like this is the best entertainment they’ve had in years.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[marokra]

something about movieverse Sage interests me. i’ve seen a lot of concepts, theories, and ideas thrown around and i adore every single one of them, but honestly i have to wonder why Sage would be created in the first place.

Both she and Stone are both driven by the same thing—loyalty, the only difference being that the former’s coding had that as it’s basis. fundementally, at least from movie 1 Robotnik’s point of view, they serve the same purpose, to protect him, to serve his whims and carry out orders to a tee. having two while only one worked perfectly fine would be redundant, again, from his pov, therefore there wouldn’t be any reason to pursue Sage’s creation. well, unless there was some sort of need.

maybe she was created to assist Robotnik on that mushroom planet, or as a post-sonic 3 thing with fix-it fic undertones.

maybe she was a years-old passion project, some scrapped lines of code he never had the time or purpose to pursue, as she wasn’t particularly needed. he didn’t need a hyperintelligent ai that was built purely to protect and aid him, as Stone did that job well enough already, despite being oh-so-painfully human. so that leads me to wonder which circumstances would drive Robotnik to pursue this dead end, to finish what he started.

there’s a lot of possibilities that could lead to it, honestly. mainly driven from the idea of separation, at least how i see it.

maybe he based her personality on Stone, just a little, most likely unintentionally. deriving from his loyalty, maybe a stray mannerism here and there. Sage, once sentient, once she gets introduced to him, i feel like she’d start to notice the little similarities within her code.

not much gets past an AI, really. she noticed the agent’s quirks, and upon doing a deep dive of her own code, she’d come to realize she had ended up adopting those same mannerisms, that unwavering loyalty towards her father, despite not having known the agent long enough for the mirroring to kick in. it intrigues her. what about the man would drive her father to allow her to mimic him? to deem those traits important enough to include in her code?

but as she kept observing, cataloguing even the simplest of things; like the way he made lattes, his thinly veiled distaste for humanity, and the way he looked at her father like he was the embodiment of the scorching, sharp, yet ever so radiant sun, was when the pieces started to fall into place.

noticing the things that her father loved about his assistant (even though he would deny it to hell and back if she brought up her hypothesis) answered her questions quite clearly.

she knew regular children take on the image of both of their parents. and if her theory was correct, maybe she would come to see Agent Stone as her father, too.

[jomiddlemarch]

for dearest you will always be

If anyone observed that following his nuptials to Miss Woodhouse, Mr. Knightley, while in company, referred to his wife exclusively as Mrs. Knightley, it seemed no one was inclined to remark upon it, ascribing it to the gentleman’s well-known propriety and elegant manners, regarding it as yet another sign of the exemplary quality of the aristocracy in the neighborhood of Highbury, despite the frequent complaints of Mrs. Elton to the contrary.

No one, perhaps, except Mrs. Weston and only when she sat in her sunny morning room with her former charge, a plentiful array of cakes and biscuits accompanying the tea that had been brought in as Mrs. Knightley’s call was expected to far exceed the traditional quarter of an hour which those who were visited by Mrs. Elton often found themselves thanking the good Lord and good Ton for establishing.

“I admit I have noticed, dear Emma, that Mr. Knightley does not use your Christian name when you are among others, even those of us who are old and, I would venture to say, dear friends and have known you both under less formal appellation and situation,” Mrs. Weston said. Mr. Weston would have said when Emma was in leading strings and George was in short dresses, but Mrs. Weston was more delicate about these things.

Emma laughed and took a sip of her tea. It was prettily done, a reflection of Mrs. Weston’s tutelage.

“I’ve never heard Mr. Weston call my husband George, not once.”

“He would be more likely to say only Knightley, I agree,” Mrs. Weston said, which was a half-truth, as her husband referred to their neighbor as George when he felt the man was acting the sage before he’d acquired the years required for wisdom. “But Mr. Knightley himself had been wont to call you Emma, perhaps not at table, but in conversation that might be overheard. Especially if your sister and his brother were of the party. It does not trouble you, that he should be so formal?”

Emma thought back to the evening she had asked much the same question of her husband, when they had retired for the night and he was giving her hair the hundred strokes her lady’s maid ought, save that he’d begged the task the first morning she’d woken as Mrs. George Knightley and it had been her very great pleasure to accede. It had taken her a fortnight to be sure he was not calling her Emma outside of her bedchamber and she had been apprehensive when she inquired, so much so that he’d stroked her furrowed brow before he’d answered.

“I cannot call you Emma, my dear Emma, dearest Emma, when we are with others, for it recalls to me too intensely calling you so when you are in dishabille, in my arms. In my bed, naked,” he’d said softly, then leaned over to graze her temple with his, kissing her throat, his hand at her shoulder coaxing her to rise from her seat, to be turned and held in his embrace. 

“Emma, my dear Emma, you beguile me, bewitch me, beloved,” he muttered, his palm cupping the back of her head, the other possessive at her hip. “The scent of you, the taste of your lips, your skin, your desire—you make me dizzy, make me a fool—”

“Oh,” she’d gasped, only that, and then he’d lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, his body pressed hard against hers with an escalating carnal urgency it had taken a sacrament to make virtue and not the most delicious, salacious vice.

“Dearest, how could I let anyone hear me call you that when it means this,” he said, striving closer, a hand raising the hem of her night-rail, with a terrible, wonderful confidence pursuing those intimacies which left her overwhelmed and panting, her appetite tempted as it was sated. “Dearest Emma, when I call you that, I mean you are mine, body and soul, I mean I have run out of any other words, dearest, yes, like that, just like that—”

They had barely slept that night, by daybreak their voices hoarse, and when he’d called her dearest as the housemaid brought in her chocolate, Emma had blushed and shivered, making George chuckle and give her a most knowing look that had her diving beneath the coverlet, waiting for him to seek her out.

“I’m very content with Mr. Knightley,” Emma said to her former governess. “He is everything circumspect and proper and it is an honor to have the company reminded I am his wife, held in his highest esteem and respect.”

“I am quite convinced,” Mrs. Weston said, her brown eyes merry. “He shall not be distressed though if I call you my dear Emma, from time to time, as our long acquaintance supersedes the duration of your marriage and of course, having had the duty of educating you, I sometimes revert back to my old ways.”

“He shall not be distressed by that at all, Mrs. Weston,” Emma replied. “Though I think he derives nearly as great delight as I do in hearing me called Mrs. Knightley, unless John is doing it to tease Isabella and me to distraction!”

Written for Janeuary 2025 @janeuary-month Day 20, prompt: dearest

[klaus-littlestwolf]

you can do a one-shot about human yandere klaus mikaelson in his viking age in a universe where esther never turned her kids into vampires and they lived a normal human life, klaus has known y/n in town since they were kids and he was a small crush on her and when they meet again as adults he resumes his crush on her which becomes an obsession.

Okay, this turned into something different than what I think Anonymous asked for so if you want me to try again in a more Yandere way, just let me know but it became this and I wrote it almost all at once!

Please note: that this is NOT historically accurate, I just made it up, I get that people lived differently to what I’ve portrayed, I just wrote it as I needed to. Also there will be Smut and they’re drunk (as most people are after a wedding) so it’s Dub-con in a way but not really.

DD:DNE

Y/n had been Klaus’ best friend when they were children, he also had a bit of a crush on her but no one needed to know about that. When her family had left to be with her moms family when he was 10 and she was 8, it was the first moment he had known heartbreak.

Klaus missed Y/n every day and not one day went by that he didn’t think of her and as he got older his feelings…changed. His feelings for his best friend became something more, something darker and more serious. He was 14 the day he decided she would be his, no matter what it took to find her, and no matter who he had to get rid of if her father had already married her off. He didn’t care if he had to slaughter 1000 men to get her, he would do it.

Klaus noticed his brothers spending their time trying to get girls attentions and they often made fun of him because he did not, he didn’t need to. You were already his. And not even Tatia and her incessant flirting with him would sway him, eventually Elijah got her attention for the most part and he was left alone.

Finn was married to Sage when Klaus was 18 and not a year later, Elijah was married to Tatia despite Mikael wanting Niklaus to take her believing he could only deserve a girl who had already given herself to another man. As soon as they were married though Klaus began to worry, Mikael would be pressuring him to find a wife to fuck some grandkids into and he would have no way of avoiding it.

It turns out Klaus’ luck was about to change.

A few weeks after Elijah and Tatia were married, Y/n and her family moved back to the village, to their old home as her grandparents had passed. Klaus could honestly say he hadn’t been so happy for people to die ever before.

Klaus was now 19 years old and you were nearing 18, almost 10 years since you had seen each other and his breath was taken from him when he set eyes on you for the first time. You had become the most gorgeous young lady he had ever seen in his life. You nodded and waved as you saw him a few yards away and he was nervous that maybe you didn’t remember him the way he did you, you had been younger than him, not by so much that you could forget him though, surely…could you?

Klaus had left his home early the next morning under the guise of going hunting and he watched you from the woods, watching you interact with your family and friends, doing your chores and helping your parents before eventually leaving before the sun went down to go and bathe, you always did prefer to do so in the evening while other women seemed to prefer the morning. He followed you down to the water, it was a place you both went often to spend time together and just as you were about to undress he stepped on a stick loud enough to startle you and cursed himself.

‘Niklaus? Is that you?’ You sounded…hopeful? Is it wrong of him to hope for that to be true?

‘Hello love. Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ She shook her head as she approached him before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. Klaus wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into his arms, twirling her around happily.

‘I’ve missed you so much Niklaus! Not a day went by I didn’t wish to be with you again!’ In that moment he didn’t care how people would react if they were to see them together, he didn’t let her go, pressing his lips to her hair excitedly.

‘Do you really mean that?’ He felt her nod and he felt as if his face would split in two from his smile. ‘I missed you too, every single day! I thought I was going to have to come find you myself!’

‘Really? Why would you do that, I…aren’t you happy?’ She asked and he was confused instantly.

‘Happy without you? Impossible! How could I?’ He pulled back, looking down at her sweet face and noticing she had untied a few of the laces holding the front of her dress closed, as she had been about to bathe.

‘Is your wife not everything you imagined? I thought-‘

‘Wife?! What are you talking about Y/n?’ Where had she heard such nonsense?!

‘Tatia, you got married, didn’t you? I was told it was lovely, I’m sorry I couldnt-‘

‘Elijah! Elijah married her, not me. Mikael wanted me to, he thought I deserved only a women who had already given herself away but I wouldn’t, I…couldn’t. My heart belongs to another already.’ Y/n had smiled upon his explanation before her face fell once again.

‘Oh! Well that’s wonderful Niklaus! You must introduce me to-‘

‘Y/n! It’s you!’ Her mouth hung open as he said it and she didn’t seem to know what to say. ‘It’s always been you Bunny. You’re my everything, that never changed…’ her face was red and nervous but she placed a hand on his cheek.

‘Niklaus. That was lovely…I love you too. That will never change, even if we can’t be together. I have never stopped loving you-‘

‘But we can! We can be together now Love, and I can give you a life. I can give you our own home and food every night, give you a warm bed by a fire and children to raise, we can-‘

‘Niklaus!’ She shouted, stopping his rant from continuing. ‘My darling, you paint a lovely picture as you always have.’ He couldn’t help his smile at her speaking of his paintings that he had only ever shown her which he had only gotten better at these 10 years. ‘My father has promised me already. Bjorn has asked my father for me…I’m sorry but it is done. I would give anything to change that but I cannot go against my father…’ Klaus felt his heart shatter as she said this, knowing that no other man could love Y/n the way he could. She deserves to be worshipped, to be cared for like the Angel she is and he would give anything to worship at her alter, spend his days kissing her perfect cunt before filling it with his seed so many times a day that they’re expecting 2 days after they get married.

‘I will just have to change his mind then-‘

‘Niklaus, my father does not change his mind. He likes you but we were told you were married already.’ It had to have been one of his parents but as Mikael hated him and Esther disliked Y/n, it could have been either.

He took hold of her cheeks and forced her to look at him, wiping her tears with his thumbs. ‘Trust me my Bunny, I will take care of this. You will be mine, you have my word…do you believe me?’ She hesitated but nodded her head none the less.

‘How? Bjorn is determined, and he will be here tomorrow. I don’t-‘

‘He can’t marry you if he never gets here. And your father will take it as an insult to his name if he does not. I will have you in my bed by the weeks end, you can be sure.’ With that he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers tenderly making her gasp, pulling back quickly. ‘It’s okay my love, I mean what I say. You are mine, he will not come for you, trust in me.’ His lips found hers again but this time she allowed it, allowing him to enjoy the feel of her warm lips on his so tenderly and it was everything he dreamed it could be. ‘You are so perfect. I imagined what you looked like for years and none of my fantasies did you justice. So perfect Bunny, just look at you.’ His fingers trailed from her neck down her collarbone and to her chest making her gasp and pull away, hiding herself as if just noticing.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-‘

‘None of that my lovely. Just…allow me to watch.’ She looked up at him, confused. ‘Finish your bath Bunny…I will watch over you.’ Y/n’s eyes went wide but she paused, blushing a dark red as she stepped away from his body, unlacing her dress and turning around, dropping it and revealing her backside to Klaus for the first time since they were nothing but children, the action meaning so much more now than they ever imagined. She pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall behind her as she sank into the water, turning back around and Klaus groaned as his cock hardened so fast it hurt. He sat on a log not far from the water and covered his length, ensuring he kept it hidden so as not to upset his girl, and there he stayed, watching his girl as she washed her hair in the water, staring at her glorious chest as he ground his hips up against his hand like an animal. She was everything he knew she would be and more, leaving him no option but to turn and leave, barely getting far enough away before pulling up his tunic and wrapping his hand around his angry, red cock. It hurt how badly he needed to be inside of her and he felt as if he was going insane.

She is his and no one can take her away from him, not Mikael, not her Father, and definitely not Bjorn! How dare he try and steal his wife, she belongs to him! She’s been his since they met when he was 5 and she was 3, nothing could take her from him, he would make fucking sure of it! He would get rid of this idiot and then he would ask her father for his permission to wed her, she would be his in 2 days time and he would fuck her so hard that everyone in the village knew who she belonged to!

That was the last straw for him before he began spilling in white ropes against a tree, groaning out her name and trying to come back down to earth. Y/n would know who she belongs to very soon. He’s going to make sure of it.

That next morning Klaus was up before the sun and on his way. It didn’t take long to find Bjorn at all, he was only about an hour from the village, following a worn trail with a bag over his shoulder and as soon as Klaus knew who he was, he had run his sword straight through the man’s chest. He felt a shooting pain through his head but ignored it as it passed quickly. He needed to get rid of the body and get back to the village with some kind of game to show he had been hunting, and that’s what he did after taking the money that Bjorn had brought with him. Something about the idea of this man spending his money on Y/n was enraging to Klaus, a white hot anger coursed through him that he had never felt before and he needed to see her, needed to get to her now before someone else does. Klaus isn’t there right now, any man could make his way to her home and steal her from him. He took care to put the body somewhere it wouldn’t be found by anything but animals before he was sprinting back to the village. His need for Y/n felt like it had tripled almost instantly and he just needed to hold her to him and breathe in her scent, feel her soft skin on his and rut his cock into her cunt so hard she wouldn’t leave his bed for weeks…Klaus didn’t know what was happening to him but he loved it. All of a sudden he felt faster, stronger, he felt more possessive and needy for his Bunny and it made him almost deliriously happy…if this is the feeling you get when you kill people why don’t more men do it? It’s fantastic!

He caught several rabbits on the way back to his home, dropping 3 of them onto his mothers table for her to make dinner with. He knew that his mother would bring one to Elijah and Tatia who were still ‘honeymooning’ before taking off down the path to Y/n’s home.

It was well into the evening and Klaus could instantly see that her father, Erik, was upset, leaving him to approach cautiously.

‘Niklaus! Lovely to see you again son! How is your family?’ He asked immediately.

‘Oh, very well sir. Mother is doing fine, and Elijah and Tatia are enjoying married life, they’ve barely been seen in 3 months.’ He joked while also ensuring Erik knew that Elijah was married to Tatia and not him.

‘I’m sure they won’t be for a while.’ They laughed together and he invited Klaus inside where he saw Y/n and her mother getting ready to make dinner.

‘I’ve brought you something. I hope you hadn’t had dinner prepared quite yet.’ He handed Y/n’s mother the rabbits and she was stunned, grinning ear to ear as she realized he had brought them food for the evening and she wouldn’t have to buy their dinner from another hunter tonight. Y/n’s father was injured in a hunting accident so they mostly bought their food, thankfully they had the ability to do so but Klaus knew it was a bit of a hassle as the accident had happened when he was 9. He had been very close to death but his mother worked a miracle, Niklaus held a 7 year old Y/n on his lap sobbing for nearly 3 days and while it was awful, he loved every second of the cuddles she insisted upon.

‘Oh Niklaus! That’s so thoughtful! You saved us the trouble of trying to find our own meal, such a sweet boy!’ She grabbed his face and kissed his cheek before beginning to skin the 2 creatures.

‘That was very nice son. You didn’t need to do that but if you ever want to sell your hunt I’ll be happy to pay you for your service.’ Klaus waved the thought off immediately.

‘No need. I was actually hoping to have a word with you sir, if you have a moment?’ Erik looked surprised but gestured Klaus back outside.

‘What’s on your mind Niklaus?’ Klaus steeled himself and knew he had to be sure to let Erik know how well off Y/n would be with him.

‘Well sir, I’m sure you’re aware that Y/n and I have been friends since we were able to talk. I have loved her since the moment I knew what love was, and I know that I’m not the eldest son, or even my fathers first choice but I want to ask your permission to marry your daughter.’ Erik somehow looked both shocked and not at all surprised at the same time. ‘I helped Elijah build his own home for himself and Tatia, and he helped me with the same. It’s a decent sized home, and I may not be the richest man but I can take care of your daughter, she will never want for anything as long as she’s by my side, she will never be cold, she will never be hungry and she will never be lonely…I love her with all my heart and I hope you will allow me to show her that love every day for the rest of our lives.’ Erik looked down at him smiling by the time he was finished his speech and just clapped Klaus on the shoulder.

‘You’re in luck son, the man I had betrothed her to seems to have pussied out on her…she’ll be happier with you than she ever would have been with him either way…Welcome to the family Niklaus.’ Klaus sighed heavily, unable to hide his grin before Erik hugged him tightly and pulled him into their home. ‘Astrid! You’d better get back to sewing that dress, Niklaus here had just asked for our daughters hand.’ Astrid dropped the rabbit on the table and practically ran to embrace him in excitement.

‘I always knew it! From the moment you were little babies and snuggling up with each other in front of the fire for naps, I knew it!’ She was so proud of herself and Klaus looked up to see Y/n standing there with tears in her eyes and he quickly moved to her side.

‘Those are good tears, yes?’ She nodded her head and he took her hand, kissing the back of it gently before she hugged him as tight as she could. As she did Klaus felt the need to rub himself all over her, as if making her smell like him was a necessity. ‘I will make you so happy, I promise. I have a home all ready for us.’ She looked up at him, shocked by that but laid her head onto his chest, letting him hold her as he wanted.

‘Plenty of room for children, yes?’ Astrid questioned and while Y/n groaned, Klaus just laughed.

‘A room all for them. My parents will have so many they won’t know what to do with all of them so I’ll make sure you have plenty of grand babies to spoil.’ He promised and she made him look down at her.

‘You’d better. You’ll get to work straight away, I’m not getting any younger-‘

‘Mother!’

‘Don’t “mother” me Y/n! You’re nearly 18, it’s a miracle you haven’t started yet! Now you two get, go tell your parents!’ Astrid insisted and Niklaus took Y/n’s hand and pulled her towards the door. ‘2 days from now, everything is already prepared, may as well use it. I will let everyone in the village know to prepare for a wedding celebration!’

Klaus took his brides hand and pulled her towards his home, running with her and loving the excited giggle she let out. ‘How did you do it?’ She asked when they slowed down, approaching his home.

‘Do what?’

‘Get rid of Bjorn? He didn’t just not show up, and you’re not even bruised so-‘

‘I killed him.’ He stated, coming to a stop and looking Y/n in her eyes, seeing them widen. ‘I will kill any man who thinks he can take you from me. You are mine my love, all mine and no one will take you away. Do you understand?’ She nodded slowly before grabbing him by the back of his neck and pulling him down to press his lips to hers.

‘My husband loves me so much he killed for me, I can’t be upset about that.’ Klaus enjoyed the feeling of her hands on his cheeks before he heard her name being called and turned to see Kol pulling her into a hug which Klaus quickly stopped before it started.

‘Kol, don’t touch my wife.’ He warned, taking her hand and pulling her into his parents small home, gaining the attention of his parents, as well as Rebekah and Henrik who were helping with dinner, Kol following them and staring at Y/n in wonder.

‘Are you sure? You can say “no” you know?’ He told her and Klaus shoved him onto his ass.

‘Niklaus!’ His mother scolded.

‘Mother. I have an announcement.’ She looked curious while Mikael looked angry and Rebekah looked like she knew exactly what was going on. ‘I’ve asked Y/n’s father for her hand and he has given me permission to marry her. Y/n is going to be my wife.’ He was a bit surprised that his mother got as excited as she did, throwing her arms up and hugging them both excitedly.

‘The wedding will be in 2 days, my mother is already informing everyone. Someone will need to tell Elijah and Tatia if they can make it-‘

‘Oh, they’ll make it! They will be at your wedding Niklaus. We need to get you-‘

‘You cannot marry this girl, boy! You will have to live in her parents home because you will not be living here, and I-‘

‘Elijah helped me with a home for us a bit after we finished his to propose to Tatia. Don’t worry Father, I will not inconvenience you.’ Mikael looked ready to argue but Y/n cut him off.

‘I must see it! Please?’ She begged and he looked down at her, smiling.

‘It’s a surprise, my darling. It has 4 rooms, a bedroom for us, a bedroom beside ours for the children to share, a separate area for your kitchen and a sitting area with a big fireplace. I remembered what we talked about as kids and I knew what my Bunny needed. Don’t you-‘

‘How are you going to fill this home? You have no money.’ Mikael snapped, clearly upset that his sons both now have bigger homes than him.

‘I’ve been selling my hunts to several families who can’t do it themselves in both our village and a couple a few miles away. I keep the best for us of course, but I always get a few extra rabbits and squirrels.’ Klaus turned to Y/n who was learning this for the first time as well and loves how strong of a provider her soon to be husband is for her and their babies. ‘There’s one family that I feed almost everyday, I got them a deer last week and used the money to get you the most comfortable, soft, warm furs you will have ever slept on. I love you so much Bunny, and you will never want for anything while I’m here.’

‘Is it like the blanket you got me several weeks ago?’ Rebekah asked and Klaus nodded.

‘Picture an entire bed of them.’ Her jaw dropped and his Bunny nuzzled into his neck, kissing the freckle on the side of his throat she had always thought was ‘cute’.

‘Will you come and help me get ready Esther? If you can of course, I would love your input.’ Y/n asked and his mother looked thrilled. Even if she never liked Y/n very much, she preferred her to both Sage and Tatia who wanted nothing to do with Esther on their wedding day.

‘I would be happy to help sweet heart. You should get home now though, it is dinner time and you’ll need to work on the dress.’ Y/n nodded.

‘My mother is already working on it but yes, I should get home. It was nice to see you all, good night.’

‘I’ll walk you home.’

Only 2 days and they would be man and wife. Only 2 days before Klaus could claim her and ensure he never has to share his Bunny with anyone ever again.

The entire village came to celebrate their wedding, though honestly it was mostly just to get drunk and dance around a fire while ‘celebrating their eternal love’.

They did the ceremony, Klaus swore by his sword to protect his wife and their future children to his dying breath, taking her under his protection and into his home. Y/n swore to serve, obey and love her husband for the rest of their eternity as well as give him as many babies as he wanted (which is 4 by the way). Y/n’s mother wants 9.

Elijah and Tatia showed up and enjoyed the party for a while before retiring again, finishing their Honeymoon where their family would bring them food and whatever else they need while they enjoy each other for the first several weeks of married life. (Theirs went on for 3 months) Elijah will now participate in doing the same for Klaus and Y/n, bringing them food and water and whatever else it is they need.

The day had been wonderful, Klaus couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling he got when he saw Y/n for the first time in that dress. He was bewitched and he knew he would never get enough of this women as he stood there, her walking through the village towards the elder binding them together.

They were practically force fed so much mead and wine they ended up at the party much longer than they wanted to be, Y/n could barely stand up she was so drunk. Everyone in the village had made food to gift the couple as well as small gifts from other married couples that they will ‘need’. It’s usually bedding supplies or some kind of weapons for hunting. Or hurling at each other.

Klaus couldn’t keep his eyes off of his wife as he sat and watched her dance with his siblings and her father. She was so beautiful he couldn’t believe she was all his as he tried to pull together the strength to stand and take her back to their new home. He’s so in love with her.

‘Wife?’ He called out to her as he approached and she spun around a bit too quickly, making him catch her and pull her into his chest.

‘Husband! You look so pretty in this light, such pretty blue eyes. Look at you.’ Klaus smiled, kissing her lips tenderly, finally being able to do so in public and as she wrapped her arms around his neck he could feel his cock hardening in desperate need.

‘Says my stunningly gorgeous wife who looks perfect in any lighting.’ He teased, kissing her again, holding her close as she tried to spin around to see who was yelling for her attention. ‘Would you like to go see your new home now, wife? I think you’ll enjoy everything that’s waiting for you there.’ He held her close as he was also finally allowed to do in public, pressing his hard cock against her ass and causing her to squeal.

‘Home! Yes!’ She giggled, turning in his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck. ‘I want my husband to fuck me in every room we have.’

His eyes widened and he slapped her ass before scooping her into his arms and hearing the people around them cheer. They knew the party wasn’t over, it’s just done for them now. ‘Good luck brother! I will bring you food tomorrow, and I expect details!’ Kol teased and Klaus once again shoved him, his little brother collapsing as he was so drunk, into a fit of giggles.

Y/n waved goodbye to everyone as he walked them back towards Klaus’ family home but continued down a newly laid path, far enough from his parents house but not so far into the woods that they’ll be in danger. Elijah’s home was about equally as far in the opposite direction.

‘Wow!’ Y/n exclaimed as she saw the house, it was modest, but bigger than either of them had grown up in. She tried to be let down but Niklaus didn’t budge, continuing to carry her as he opened the door and took her inside and barred the door behind them. It opened up to a sitting area with a fireplace that would warm the entire house it was so big. There was a large padded chair across from the fire with a foot rest and as Klaus set her down on it she realized how comfortable it was.

‘I made this for you, just in case you get tired of laying in bed when you’re very pregnant and want to sit by the fire.’ He was startled by the tears in her eyes and moved to wipe them away quickly, allowing her to pull him into a kiss.

‘You are the most perfect husband I could ever ask for and I love you!’ She stood, wobbly on the footrest and hopped back into his arms with her legs around his waist now. ‘What?’ She questioned as he looked at her with a sly smile. ‘You carried me this far, show me the rest of the house before you give me a baby to fill it.’ They were both startled by the growl that exploded from his chest but it was a turn on for his beautiful wife as he held her to his chest and moved to grind his hips up into her making her gasp. ‘Dear Gods you’re going to split me in two!’ Her head fell into his neck as Niklaus pressed her into the door, continuing to rut himself against her for a moment.

‘I’m going to make my wife feel so good, you’ll be begging me for more! Don’t you worry, you’ll love every second of it.’ He held her close and turned to carry her through the frame into the Kitchen he had for her with all of the cooking tools she could ever need. ‘It’s perfect! I can’t believe you did this for me!’

Niklaus didn’t stop to let her look around, instead he walked through the smaller bedroom which she barely got to glance at before he dropped her onto the large pile of furs and padding. The largest pile she had ever seen honestly. ‘Remove the dress Bunny, because if I do it myself it will be in tatters.’ He yanked his clothes off, crawling towards her and pulling her dress the rest of the way off of her, exposing her to him for the first time…at least the first time that he is able to touch her. His hands traced along her skin tenderly, feeling every inch of her that he could before pressing their lips together and kissing her roughly, his tongue invading her mouth and tasting her for the first real time. ‘You’re so gorgeous…and all mine.’ His voice had taken on a growl to it that he didn’t recognize and while neither did Y/n she was turned on by it enough not to complain as his hands grabbed ahold of her chest and he kissed his way down her neck, biting into her soft skin and making her cry out.

‘Niklaus!’ Her legs wrapped up around his waist and pulled him closer but he pressed his palm into her waist, pushing her body back down.

‘Not so fast gorgeous. There’s something I want to do first.’ She whined, desperate for him and while he loved it he knew she would be happy he made her wait as he pulled away. He took ahold of her thighs which he stroked as he kissed his way down her body before his lips pressed to her sex, causing her hips to fly up and her to scream.

‘What…what was that?’ She panted but Klaus just smirked up at her, tongue flicking against her clit as he held her eyes on his, mouth burying itself into her pussy and eating her out almost ravenously. ‘Nik-Niklaus! Oh- I…I can’t…Ah Fuck!’ She squealed, cunt pressed hard to his mouth as she couldn’t hold still to save her life but he did, pinning her down as he continued tasting her, tongue shoving itself into her hole as deep as he could while his thumb rubbed at her clit. ‘Oh Gods Klaus! I can’t take it! Husband, please I can’t-OH GODS!’ He jumped back this time as her juices actually squirt out and all over his mouth which he quickly decided was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. ‘I’m s-sorry. I didn’t mean to-‘

‘On the contrary my lovely wife, I’m thinking I can make you do it again.’ He chuckled but she stopped him, pulling at his hair.

‘Niklaus, please? Please? I need you…fill me with your babies, I need you so badly!’

She was begging. She. Was. Begging. HIM!

Klaus had only ever dreamt that Y/n beg him to fuck his children into her, in fact he had dreamt it a lot. ‘If my wife wants to give me children then who am I to deny her?’ He asked, eyes having gone dark and possessive as he crawled back up her body, kissing her hard as he lined his cock up with her sopping wet cunt. ‘I’ll be as gentle as I can.’ He assured her and she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. As badly as Klaus just wanted to fuck her he didn’t want to cause his precious Bunny pain, and he knew he was going to no matter how he fucked her. He pushed himself into her hole slowly, clutching the furs underneath them to stop himself from just ramming his cock into her heat, her tight, wet cunt being nearly overwhelming for him. ‘Fuck!’ He cursed as he bottomed out, stopping his movements and holding his face in her neck to steady himself. He began breathing again after a moment and realized she was running her fingers through his hair as if to comfort him and he looked up, seeing her happy face looking at him, waiting for him to move himself.

‘Take your time husband, enjoy yourself.’ If she were anyone else he would think she was teasing him but Y/n would never do that to him and it brought him a wave of comfort and acceptance that he never knew he needed.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked, beginning to come back to his own mind, kissing her jaw tenderly.

‘I am now, it is a painful stretch but not too bad…you are thicker than I imagined.’ She admitted and his eyes widened, moving to be face to face with her now.

‘You’ve imagined this?’

She hesitated, blushing a dark red shade before answering. ‘Would it upset you to know I have touched myself, imagining that it was you?’

‘Upset? Upset is the last thing that makes me feel Bunny, you think I haven’t touched myself thinking about you? Fuck! How many times?’ She shrugged and he waited.

‘I don’t know…many times. I imagined your fingers inside me, your tongue, your cock, I’ve dreamt of it many times as well.’ His eyes widened and he smirked now, looking down at her suddenly much cockier.

‘When did this start? It couldn’t have been recent if you can’t recall how many times.’ He teased her playfully and when she didn’t answer he pulled his hips back, shoving himself back into her hard and making her gasp.

‘Fourteen! I was fourteen! I saw you on a trip with my father and I knew it was you right away, you were so handsome, I knew you would be.’ She traced her fingers down his face tenderly and the way she looked at him just made him feel a sense of overwhelming love and it was everything he ever wanted in his life. All the love and adoration he had never gotten, his beautiful wife gives him, his children will give him, Klaus can finally be happy and it was in this moment that he truly realized it.

‘And I knew you would be the most beautiful women I have ever seen. And I was damn right!’ He pulled his hips back thrusting into her again and adoring the noises she made for him eventually hitting a spot inside of her that made her squeal and he paused before doing it again.

‘Oh Gods! Yes! Please More?! Niklaus Please?!’ He was back to pounding into her with his cock head hitting that same tender spot that she seemed to love and just as he felt his stomach and balls tighten she cried out and he thrust as deep into her as he could, shooting deep inside of her body.

‘My beautiful wife. Look at you, did so well for me. Going to give me perfect little babies, so perfect for me.’ He kissed over her face until she was breathing normally again, holding her to him and allowing her to rest on his chest, covering her with a heavy fur blanket.

‘How long did you know you loved me?’ She whispered, clearly tired and he was going to let her nap for a while before fucking her again, seeing how much she needed it after this and after the party and drinks as well.

‘I’ve always loved you. Since the moment I knew what love was, I knew I loved you…why? When did you know you loved me?’

She looked up at him with sleepy eyes and he loved her soft, tired expression. ‘I always loved you but…I was 7 when I knew I wanted to be yours. My father had gotten hurt and you stayed with me…your father beat you for ignoring your chores but you always came right back to me. You never let me go the whole time I needed you and you cuddled me…I enjoyed that a bit too much. I thought it was the only time we would be that close…look at us now.’ She joked and he snorted before kissing her head.

‘Look at us now…I’m going to give you a family, and a life. I will make you happy Bunny, I promise…don’t ever leave me. Okay?’

Y/n reached up to stroke his face once again and he leaned into it, lovingly. ‘Never. You’re Mine Niklaus Mikaelson. Always and Forever.’

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[sunshineandspencer]

Coffee shop

A/N: I have never had an original experience, because every woman I’ve ever known has always wanted to run a mix of a coffee shop and a library/florists, I am no different. That isn’t what this fic is about, but I’ll take any chance to lament about my lack of funds for a coffee-floristry-library shop 😔😔😔

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: If Spencer Reid had a nickel for everytime he ran into someone on his daily routines that he believes might be a serial killer, he’d now have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: talking about blood(??), nothing really

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

Spencer liked his routines. He’s invested a lot of time in developing a comfortable routine whenever work in Quantico goes for longer than usual. For whenever he’s home.

Part of that routine is treating himself to breakfast. Knowing damn well that he wouldn’t eat otherwise - the toaster is his mortal enemy and has been unplugged since he moved into his apartment, refusing to repeat the mistake that lost him his favourite mug.

He sampled a lot of coffee shops that are close to his apartment, not wanting to walk further than 10 minutes away just for a decent cup of coffee and some breakfast. Until, finally, he found the one that fit his very specific - and not at all autistic - guidelines for what he needed, finding himself pushing that door open at 07:09 everyday he’s home.

‘Virgin’s Coffee House’, probably a little too on the nose considering he’s.. himself, but the owner explained that it was actually ‘Virginia’s Coffee House’ until these two kids stole the letters four separate times and the owner just gave up. Accepting their fate.

That specific time, too, was well tested to get just the right moment. 07:09.

Just quiet enough that he’s comfortable but not suffocated by an overwhelming silence, they have a gentle radio choice that he adored, excellent warm pastries, and in those early hours his little space was permeated with a soft floral scent, the notes of which are heavenly.

Then, of course, being a man with an eidetic memory, his brain swiftly catalogued the regulars that he would see every single time he visited, the NPCs to his daily routine.

There’s the man who drops his girlfriend - the barista - off to work, the man who is always hunched over his laptop by the window and is seemingly constantly perplexed at the sun slipping through the blinds he pulls down. The owner that ignores her barista ‘sneaking’ free pastries to her boyfriend to go and smoke out back, and the woman that is somehow always directly ahead of him in the queue.

For a while, and because of her consistency with it, he wondered if she might wait somewhere to spot him coming, and then dart into the shop to get ahead of him. A thought he quickly dismissed as crazy, and one only a profiler would get to a conclusion with. Settling with the answer that they just have similar routines.

He has some sense of her job, from the lanyard usually haphazardly shoved into her bag, and the clothes she wore. But he isn’t the kind of person to just strike up conversations with women - hell, anyone.

Until today.

On her hip, over the top of her very pretty, sage sundress, she had a handprint. A small, child-sized handprint in, what he was hoping, was paint. Dark red.. dried paint. Right.

Tapping her shoulder, it clearly surprised her that her own routine was broken from the usual quiet queue for her coffee, although she turned to him with a confused smile. This action, merely turning to face him, immediately gave him the revelation that the pretty floral scent he keeps coming back for is her.

Quickly smiling back and pointing down at her hip, going for blissfully unaware rather than alerted FBI agent.

“Hallowe’en in September?”

Nice, casual question, not at all giving away the inner screaming of Jesus Christ, don’t let this beautiful woman be a murderer.

Keeping his eyes on her face to see what kind of reaction she has, as she looks down. Tugging at the fabric so she could see it clearly, tutting softly and immediately worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Oh.. yeah, that looks worse than it did yesterday.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s found a serial killer. In his coffee shop. How the hell does this keep happening to--

“What about this one, I haven’t even tried to get it off yet because we’re doing more today.”

Pulling the skirt of her dress back to normal to show him a neon orange - slightly smaller - handprint on her knee, like a child had smacked her leg with a handful of paint.

Which, thankfully, confirmed his previous assumption that she works in Kindergarten.

“That’s very uhm.. well.”

He tried to say something nice, but the longer he searched and shuffled through all the words in his brain, the brighter her smile got. And the more nervous he got about saying the wrong thing to this genuinely really pretty woman. Christ, he’s making himself look like an idiot.

Coming to his rescue, before he started spewing out Shakespearean compliments because that’s all his brain could focus on, she waved with a softly dismissive hum.

“Don’t worry, I know it’s not really my colour. Some of the kids took ‘paint your teacher’ a little too literal. But it’s only their first week so I’m letting it slide.”

Now that the fear of her being a serial killer is gone, he’s left with the brutal realisation that she’s beautiful. Which, unfortunately means that acknowledgement of her looks causes his brain to stop working. Beautiful women, as Emily has eloquently stated, slash his IQ to 60.

“You- You work with children?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to mind his sudden stutter, or that he’s unconsciously fiddling with his tie. Only smiling brighter, despite him now being apparently unable to get a full sentence out compared to before.

“Yeah! Real young kids, who haven’t learnt that paint goes on their paper and not the teacher, not yet anyway. Why? That handprint make you think I was a murderer?” She was clearly teasing, but his flushed cheeks and averted gaze told her the truth. “Oh my God you did.”

Her jaw dropped and she didn’t look away from him as they shuffled up the queue, from where he was desperately trying to explain.

Searching his bag, diving into it really, to try and find his badge to prove who he is. This is the first time he’s ever felt genuine hatred for his messenger bag, everything just falling in the way of his ID that would prove that he’s not crazy, he’s just insanely observant.

Finding it with a breathless laugh and holding it out to her, giving a pleadingly nervous smile.

“I’m- I work for the FBI! The Behavioural Analysis Unit, I catch serial killers and, well, it looked--”

He just gestured again to the dark red paint dried into the fabric of her dress. Terrified he’d ruined this interaction by assuming incorrectly.

But she just laughed, and not at all insulted or upset like he thought, just seemingly amused by the whole thing. Hand falling back to the print, thumbing at the dried paint, some flakes falling to the floor between them before being swept away by the wind from the open door.

“It’s okay, I knew it didn’t look great, but catching the attention of an FBI agent? I’ll take it.”

Still stumbling over his words, he desperately looks for the right thing to say, wanting to get the mush in his brain out to apologise again and again. Something about her smile made him want to reassure her a hundred times over.

“Not that, of course, you look anything like a serial killer. Although female serial killers are, usually, far better at hiding that they are killers, and are actually called silent killers. So even if you were, you seem way too smart to leave a handprint on your dress. Not- that I’m saying you would know how to be a murderer, but I just- I had to make sure--”

“Really, it’s alright, uh..” looking down, she runs her fingers over his name before handing his ID badge back, “Spencer, really. It’s a nice thought, knowing I have such observant agents in my area. Makes me feel.. safe.”

And not a hint of sarcasm, paired with a genuine smile. Her name was called for a coffee and that split moment she turned away gave him a chance to react.

Hearing his name in her gently teasing voice had made his heart beat so damn hard against his chest he half expected to look down and see it beating out cartoonishly. Pressing the heel of his palm to the centre of his chest to try and calm down before she turned back around.

That smile still on her face when she did, her name written all pretty on her cup, and fitting her perfectly.

“Could you explain what the Behavioural Analysis Unit does? I’m still not sure.”

He went to open his mouth, happy to spew facts, knowing that’s his comfort zone more than anything else, and wanting to show that he can do more than word vomit whatever comes to the tip of his tongue first.

But she shakes her head, taking out her phone and tapping some things before handing it over to him. An empty contact page, except for the name which was already filled in with ‘Spencer (the cute coffee guy)’ at which his eyes darted back to hers, although his thumbs were already putting in his number.

“How about tomorrow? About six-forty?”

Handing back the phone after checking the number, and replying with a breathy ‘yeah’, at which she smiled and walked past him. His own name getting called for his coffee, but not turning to get it until she left the shop.

When she turned to look back at him with a small wave, he knew he was absolutely done for wherever this woman is concerned.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Spencer. Six-forty, it’s a date, don’t be late.” Slipping out so that he could take that in himself, not actually moving until his name gets called for the fourth time, and the barista throws a balled up napkin at him. A daft smile on his face as he whips out his phone to text Garcia all about the date he’s going on tomorrow morning.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides ║ @peachsodameg ║ @angelinajolie0213 ║ @jiggly-puff-12 ║ @khxna ║ @kennedy2156 ║ @trulycayla ║ @none-of-your-bullshit ║ @alexxavicry ║ @meg-black ║ @princess76179 ║ @chicken-fifi ║ @averyhotchner ║ @punkyghoulz ║ @person-005 ║ @aaronlovesava ║ @Optimisticsandwichgladiator ║ @cultish-corner ║ @xox0_emma ║ @whatyagottado ║ @wonderland2425 (if your tag is here and not working check out this reblog to see if any of it could hopefully help!!)

[craving-for-chaos]

I am literally BEGGING someone to tell me how Sage’s name is meant to be typed out. I swear I have a mini crisis every time I write her name in a fic because I always feel like it’s wrong despite the extensive research I’ve attempted to do around it. The lore wiki also supports my current way of writing her name, but I always second guess it, so if anyone out there feels like shedding light on the subject, that’d be much appreciated 😭

Currently, I write it as Ling Ying Wei, her first/given name being Ling Ying (or Lingying) and her last/family name being Wei. Now, I came to this conclusion from her dossier alone, but I wasn’t sure if they wrote her name in an anglicized manner in it or if it was simply a translated version of how her name would be written in Chinese, which is family name first followed by given name. In the case of the former, then Ling Ying is indeed her given name. In the latter situation, though, her given name would be Ying Wei.

Upon further research, I discovered that it’s relatively common for Chinese given names to include two characters while the family name is only one character. And, by that logic, I deduced that “Ling Ying” makes more sense as a given name than “Ying Wei” does, as Ling Ying is a known given name is Chinese but (according to Google at least) Ying Wei is a very uncommon given name. Ling and Wei are both relatively common surnames, though, so I really can’t be sure.

It doesn’t help that I have seen every. Possible. Combination. Of her name. On ao3. Ling by itself seems to be used most often, but that just doesn’t sit right with me…idek at this point 😭 I just want to use her name correctly, and I hate the idea of avoiding using her real name at all just because I don’t understand proper Chinese name structures.

OKAY, UPDATE, I JUST REALIZED IN NEON'S DOSSIER SAGE IS REFERRED TO AS LING??? UGHHH I HATE IT HERE

[astraeanannalist]

Ranking M3 on how eager they'd be to learn sign language for you

1. Felix

He’s a polyglot and a massive nerd, he’d definitely jump on the chance to learn a new language! Especially since signing is different from spoken languages that just makes it more fun! We don’t know all the languages he speaks so it's possible he already knows an Astraean sign language but I kinda doubt it. Because the whole point of signing is that it's visual, it's hard to learn from books alone and given how little social interaction he wants gets, I don't think he’s joining many in-person classes. Either way, he probably feels extra guilty. First he took you from everything you've ever known and also there's a communication barrier? Yikes… He’d be on it trying to reach fluency asap! In the meantime, the penman in him would be writing letters every chance he gets, reading it over again and again until he’s completely over thought it and now he has to start all over because ‘nonono this won’t do’ Its the Astraean equivalent of texting anxiety lol

2. Anisa

I’ll admit I’ve only played Anisa’s route once and it was a while ago so I don’t know her character as well as the boys, but I think she would try to learn the basics and wouldn’t go much further until you two start getting closer. This is how most people are, they’ll pick up “thank you” “help” “sorry” counting to 10, maybe some random words. The rest is writing or miming and mouthing. Anisa is really sweet but she’s also really busy. It’s easy to put off language learning when you have a system that works well enough. But once she does learn, every time she’s stuck doing boring knight stuff, she’s signing as discreetly as she can so you can talk from however far away the whole time  

3. Sage

Ngl I don’t think he’d care until much later. He’d be a dick about it lowkey. At the start of the story, he doesn’t want anything to do with the player and I think lacking communication would exacerbate that. Training would be done in silence regardless of if you can hear or not, which if you can you’d have to remind him. Repeatedly. But the more time spent together, he’d definitely start to feel bad and ask to learn some signs. The idea of his sweeter moments being done through writing makes me giddy, waiting for someone to write and then waiting for the other to read it gives more time to admire them<3 plus he just seems like he would love passing notes! Once he does learn, he’d always be your translator and he’s never letting you be talked over

[genderfluid-insomniac]

“Wait for me” dead!Macaque x living!reader (1.5k words)

A/N: I know I’m mixing pantheons but I’ve been back on a musical hype and this time around it’s been Hadestown. I love the musical too much and it came to mind when listening to “Wait for Me (reprise)” that the Orpheus and Eurydice characters would work for Macaque and another person. Although terribly angsty I must fulfill my heart's desires.

The reader is currently walking up to the living world after convincing the god of the underworld to go on a trial to get their lover the Six-Eared Macaque back home with them. The trick is that if they look back at Macaque before they reach the surface he has to go back to the underworld.

otherwise known as the Orpheus and Eurydice myth from the author Virgil and/or Ovid

This story is told from the reader’s perspective who knew, met, and fell in love with Macaque before his confrontation with Wukong. So it might seem that they’re being too hard on Wukong for killing his sworn brother when they yell at him but they don’t know everything that happened between them. ***Only the rumors of Sun Wukong from local towns and what Macaque told them.*** So I just wanted to make that clear.

Although you knew you had begun the trial and Macaque must have been behind you, you couldn’t hear him and yet still you walked. Step after step of hoping you weren’t tricked by them. All you wanted to be back in his arms, dancing in the moonlight and counting the stars until dawn arrived. You remembered it as clear as day. You were just on a walk with him, strolling through the woods and laughing about a forest spirit you had run into who mistook you as being kidnapped only to apologize when it was clear you both were in love.

It was calm and quiet as most days were but Macaque heard something, someone, someone who he once called his brother. They hadn’t seen each other in centuries and the last they saw of one another wasn’t pleasant. At least that’s all that Macaque had told you and insisted that it was too painful to talk about which you respected. You both trusted each other more than anything and you hoped it’d get you through everything.

You didn’t know what caused that fight or whether it was fate or a coincidence that they saw one another that day after almost a thousand years. Flashes and shouts could be heard as they both clashed against one another. For a demon, the fight would be easier to see but you could only catch bits and pieces of the battle, seeing both celestial primates create big craters in nearby mountains and strong gales whipping across the land surrounding them.

Truthfully you were terrified for your life a couple of times as trunks of big trees were flung your way and when gales of wind threatened to carry you off the ground. Through all of it, your eyes desperately searched for Macaque in hopes of seeing anything pointing to his survival. That moment almost froze in time as someone whom you now recognized as Sun Wukong “Great Sage Equal to Heaven” stood over your lover. Before you knew it you raced to where they both were and ignored the scrapes and cuts you got from recklessly running through a battleground.

Sure you heard the rumors of the Monkey King traveling west from folks in nearby towns or villages but the demon you saw before was nothing like you had heard and you saw him raise his staff high. You wanted to cry out, scream, do anything to get him to stop to your voice failed to obey you. He fiercely growled before yelling and striking Macaque who lay at the bottom of a crater covered in severe injuries with his staff. Most notably three large gashes over his right eye, the blood hadn’t clotted yet and you doubted it would even if he came out alive.

You let out a sob as you thought about those last couple of words. “if he came out alive”. Catching his gaze for a second those few seconds held a thousand words. Despite the shadow of death inches away from ending his life, he still smiled with so much love in his eyes and hoped that you could continue to live your life with the promise of finding joy in the smallest things. He wished that you could forgive him for leaving you so soon when he’d assured you so much love and happiness in your future.

Both of you wanted time to stop, for anything to stop the inevitable, a miracle to happen. You couldn’t though. The last thing you would ever see of him would be through your warped teary vision, his midnight black fur caked with thick blood and deep cuts decorated his strong-built body. His beloved scarf that he treasured so much lay on the ground torn severely and a mix of blood and dirt obscured parts of his beautiful vibrant six ears; now partially covered in small cuts on the edges of each colorful lotus petal-shaped ear. Although one of his eyes had been badly damaged surely beyond repair you could see his gold shining eye meeting yours and sharing one last glance before the red powerful staff came down on Macaque.

Sun Wukong had light tears falling down his cheeks and slowly approached the now-still demon’s body with shaking hands, letting his staff fall from his grip and clattering to the ground. There was so much conflict in his expression and hesitation as to whether he should even touch his fallen brethren but you rushed in. Dirt, blood, and bruises clung to you as you tumbled into the crater and collapsed on your lover, sobbing harshly at the reality now hitting you and gripping the soft torn yellow and black fabric of his layered hanfu. You cried out in pain not caring about the outside world because if something happened to you then at least you’d be reunited with one another.

A firm hand gripped your shoulder and tried to pry you off to no success, his insistence on getting you to safety and pressing the message that no mortals should be here fell on deaf ears. You didn’t care about the things you said getting up weakly and shoving the Monkey King’s chest with shaky hands. “I don’t care! You killed him! You bastard! He told me you were once close.” you shouted and raised a hand, slapping the left side of his face hard and seeing him hiss through his teeth when you hit a deep cut on his cheekbone.

The world was silent. Not a leaf fell or animal chittered. Only when you turned around to go back to mourning the death of someone you loved so much and knew they loved you just as much did you hear the footsteps of others. Probably the Great Sage’s companions who came to see who the victor was. You could feel 5 pairs of eyes on you and guessed the dozens of questions they had of why a random mortal was crying over a powerful demon’s corpse. One of the travelers came towards you as you cradled Macaque in your arms, an unkempt pig demon walking towards you and gleefully shouting, “Don’t cry beautiful mortal. You’re saved from the horrible demon that kidnapped you, and his power is gone! Let us help-” he was cut off by Sun Wukong tugging him back before he could touch you.

You did your best to hold in the sobs and despair you had, forcing yourself to look up and focus on the demon responsible for all of your pain. “Go. Go and live knowing you not only killed someone close to you but broke the heart of his lover. I’m sure he’s resting peacefully now.” you spat. After a few tries you managed to pick Macaque up with his head resting on your chest and carefully walked back near to where you both lived. You didn’t bother to see Sun Wukong’s expression when to told him who you were to Macaque and how it cracked into shock and anguish.

That had been almost 2 months ago until you’d finally found a local mountain god that accepted your offering in exchange for information about how to get to the underworld and after you made your trek through hell you bargained with King Yan for your lover’s soul. Another rock bounced off your shoe and hit the gravel path. You couldn’t hear his footsteps or voice or breath and you questioned if he was even behind you at all. Memories of the good times you both shared pooled in your mind and allowed a soft smile to sneak up on your face. How you had both first met because of him mistaking you for an easy victim. Safe to say he failed to do anything because you fought back decently.

Your meetings were always by surprise at first but then Macaque began to show up regularly and seemed more curious about what you did and who you were. It was obvious he could do something else rather than “wasting” time on someone he failed to kill but you caught his interest. The same game was played fairly often until a week passed when he disappeared and you thought that was it. You were happily surprised when you went to your regular sight to gather herbs and saw sizable bundles of each herb you usually picked tied up all in a basket. Macaque ended up rising from the shadow of a nearby Rainbow Gum tree and apologizing for disappearing but offering to repay you. That night he confessed underneath the stars looking at the moon while he told you stories he heard during his travels.

A bright light blinded you in the dark tunnel that was now slowly opening into the base of the mountain you entered hours ago and you fought through the tight v-shaped opening until you reached the edge where obsidian-shaded gravel met the healthy forest floor. You couldn’t tell if it was you or Macaque who let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re here.”

[johnny-depplyloveyou]

Gale's data mined info from Idle Champions

source: [X]

(He's only 35? And his alignment is Neutral, not Neutral Good to begin with? I know it can be changed into Neutral Good in this game, but... I'll pretend I did not see it)

Item descriptions

Fond Memories: Even at my lowest, playing with Tara lifted my spirits...

Ball of Retrieval: ...though the ball's purpose eluded her. I was always the one fetching it...

Cat Flap of Displacement: Tara comes and goes as she pleases. But she's always pleased to help me.

Ring of Evasion: A ring as evasive as Tara, when I asked how she obtained it...

These Old Things: Comfortable, practical, and relatively unsinged.

Wizarding Robes: Not as flashy as Elminster's, but at least they've plenty of pockets.

Robes of Increased Potency: I could get used to these. Elegant, but powerful - just like Tara.

Archmage's Accoutrements: Incredible! Every stitch is infused with Weave. Like wearing magic itself...

Nothing Much: I'd have preferred something with a library...

Camping Tent: ...but it will do. For now.

Crystal Ball: Handy for glimpsing the future. And also shaving.

Celestial Spyglass: I like gazing at the heavens. To remember. And to forget...

Crumpled Chapbooks: At least they're written in full sentences.

Well-thumbed Tomes: I've lost count of how many times I've read these. Still just as magical.

Magical Miscellany: A spell for all situations. And my improvements in the margins.

The Annals of Karsus: You can trust me with this - you have my word.

Boots of Ambiguous Enchantment: A little pick-me-up, for when any Weave will do...

Lonely Boot of Elvenkind: A snack-sized shoe for the wizard who travels light.

Boots of Very Fast Blinking: Blink and you'll miss me. But I'll always hit you.

Mystra's Grace: These were a gift from... well, never mind.

Cramped Jotter: Magical musings and mullings. Not my best handwriting.

Waterdhavian Quill: This was... well, it was expensive, let's leave it at that.

The Chosen's Earring: A symbol of Mystra's faith in me. Former faith, I suppose...

Wizard's Pouch: All manner of wizarding sundries. Pungent but powerful.

Feat descriptions

Selflessness (Gale): If it’s me or the realms - I’ll save the realms every time.

Inspiring Leader (Gale): Their magic is strong, but our will is stronger!

Long Studies (Gale): It’s not as easy for me as a sorcerer or warlock. No offense, Wyll.

Arcane Experience (Gale): I’ve had experiences that other wizards can only dream of.

Arcane Threads (Gale): You can’t manipulate the entire Weave, merely a small piece of it.

Spools of Magic (Gale): Maybe I was wrong, as rare of an event as that is. This power is strong!

Mage of Waterdeep (Gale): It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Gale of Waterdeep!

Sword Coast Sage (Gale): One day, my name will be known up and down the Sword Coast!

Netherese Teachings (Gale): These are certainly things Elminster wouldn’t have taught me…

Netherese Knowledge (Gale): The risk is worth the reward. This could be just what we need to save everyone!

Neutral Good (Gale): My mind can be changed. …Sometimes.

Immolation (Gale): Magic can be elegant, but sometimes, a good fireball is the answer.

[emyn-arnens]

Hello! I've been meaning to ask this question since I read Sword-hearted but I was wondering if you've any headcanons you'd like to share about Théoden's sisters (only the unnamed ones or Théodwyn or both, I don't mind!)? (no pressure at all!)

I do indeed! I’ve been working on fleshing out Éowyn’s aunts for a WIP, and International Women’s Day seems like a good a day for sharing these.

Théodburga (born in 2946) was Thengel and Morwen's eldest child and daughter. She took after Thengel in appearance and Morwen in personality. She held greater love toward Rohan than her father did, and during her youth in Gondor, she would often ask her father for stories of Rohan, to which he would (usually begrudgingly) indulge her. She was often more successful if she asked Morwen, who had learned all that she could from the libraries of Lossarnach of the stories and culture of Rohan during her courtship with Thengel. As she grew up, she came to appreciate both sides of her ancestry.

Théodburga married Éoforheard (uncle of Éomund), lord of Aldburg, in 2970 and had three daughters with him (who, though Éowyn grew up in Aldburg with them, had such a gap in ages from her that she never was able to befriend them, and all were married and settled by the time Éowyn was taken to Edoras, leaving her without cousins to ask to come with her and keep her company). After Éoforheard’s death, Théodburga took up rulership of Aldburg until Éomund came of age and she relinquished the rulership to him. She was held by all the people of Aldburg as a greater ruler than her husband had been.

Despite their differences in age and personality, she grew close with Théodwyn after they had both reached adulthood, and she grieved greatly at her sister’s death, wracked with guilt at not being able to draw Théodwyn from either her illness or the depression she had fallen into after Éomund’s death.

Trewred (born in 2952) was the second daughter and took after Morwen in appearance, inheriting her dark hair. Having been under a year old at the time their family moved to Rohan, she had no memory of Gondor, and as a child often begrudged the people of Edoras for speaking ceaselessly of her Gondorian looks, when she herself felt little connection to Gondor.

She applied herself to learning the history of Rohan and often kept company with Gléowine, the court minstrel, learning the songs and tales of Rohan, and spent much time in the company of the older men and women of the court and city, who were held as elders and sages. She became known as a wite, or wise woman, and the people of Edoras often came to her for counsel.

In 2977, the lord of Hytbold in the Eastemnet visited Edoras, and Trewred married him a year later, seizing the chance to escape Edoras, where she felt she could never fully shake off her Gondorian ancestry, however much she immersed herself in the history and lore of Rohan. She and her husband were never able to bear children, and he died only a few years after they married. She never remarried and chose to remain in Hytbold, where she became greatly esteemed among her people for her wisdom.

Trewhild (born in 2956) was the third daughter, and like Trewred, she took after Morwen in appearance. As children, she and Trewred were the closest of the sisters, since Trewred was too young to have any memory of Gondor and Trewhild was born after their family moved to Rohan. That they both visibly reflected their Gondorian ancestry the most of their siblings and yet had the least connection with Gondor bound them all the closer. Trewhild loved (and was greatly skilled at) sparring and feats of arms and often joined Théoden as he trained with the men of his father’s Éored.

Trewhild never married (and as the fourth child felt little obligation to produce an heir) and instead chose to relinquish her title and duty. She stayed often in Hytbold with Trewred, and during the spring and summer would join the nomadic Rohirrim in the Wold, who named her a shield maiden, and protected their herds from Orc raids. It was Trewhild who first inspired Éowyn to want to become a shield maiden.

As a child, Théodwyn was greatly curious about her Gondorian heritage and the land that had been home to all of her siblings but her and Trewred, and often begged Morwen to tell her of her youth in Gondor and to describe for her the flowering vales of Lossarnach. She harbored some resentment over never having seen Gondor and couldn’t understand Trewred and Trewhild’s desire to distance themselves from their Gondorian ancestry. For this Thengel loved her dearest of all his children.

Théodwyn was closest with Théoden, often following at his heels as he went about his duties. When he returned from patrols and from hunting Orc raiding parties, he often brought her little gifts—a wooden horse he had carved while sitting on watch, an Orc arrowhead he had collected after a battle, a bundle of sweet cakes he had bartered from the Éored’s cook—and Théodwyn cherished these.

All of Théodwyn’s sisters were still alive at the time of her death, and though Théodburga would gladly have taken in Éomer and Éowyn, she knew how deeply Théoden had loved Théodwyn and did not want to rob him of the last memory he would have of her, and so she did not counter his offer to raise Éomer and Éowyn.

The general consensus from most fans seems to be either that the three unnamed sisters had died by the time of Théoden’s death and had left no sons who could lay claim to the throne of Rohan (or those sons had died), or that they had moved back to Gondor and married there and thus effectively removed any potential children they might have had from the succession. I don’t personally care for all of Théoden’s sisters and their children having died before the time of his death. It seems implausible to me that absolutely everyone would have died by then, and thus my headcanon about only Théodburga having children.

And I don’t really buy the idea that the two eldest unnamed daughters would want to move back to Gondor because of having spent their youth there, as the oldest daughter would have been between six and ten years old at the time of moving, and the second eldest somewhere between infancy and four years old—too young, imo, to have formed much of a connection to Gondor, or at least the kind of connection that would induce them to move back as adults.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Stone’s Throw

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: The night Jason wakes up in the convalescent home, he’s accompanied by his favorite nurse (Nurse Kathy). Nurse Kathy follows her instincts and decides to foster him in the nearby city of Blüdhaven. Soon, her partner and roommates become Jason’s new family despite hopes that he’ll regain his memories.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Characters, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon

Additional Tags: Disabled Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Doesn’t Know Jason Todd is Alive, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Jason Todd Has a Foster Family AU, Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven, Original Asexual Characters, Original Lesbian Characters, Amnesiac Jason Todd, “Missed Him By That Much” Trope, Hurt/Comfort, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Three: The Stepparents

Walter was a tall man, slender to the point of frailty as he organized books in a bedroom bookcase. His curly hair was gelled back and shining dark grey in the well-lit living room. His eyes dark and large, staring at the bindings to the books on the top shelf. He pushed his glasses up, warmly sighing as he cocked his head. The doorbell rang, and Walter smiled. “Lover? Is that you?” Walter shouted. 

“It’s Donnovan—. Dodie Hines-Fletcher! You know my father!” Dodie shouted. Walter opened the door. “You’re my father’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I am. Would you like a cup of coffee?” Walter asked. Dodie nodded. “You favor him. Your eyes are almost the same. Kind of hazel-ish… But your hair… It’s like your mother’s isn’t it?” 

“Yeah… It’s a weird dark reddish brown,” Dodie answered as he looked around. “How’d you meet my dad?” 

“We met at one of his art galleries. I bought A Conversation in Sage . I thought he was interesting, but I—. I saw the wedding ring. We talked for a while there, and he told me the situation. I was only in town for one night, so I gave him my address, so he could mail the painting to me. He um—. He started sending me letters. I sent some back… And we fell in love,” Walter answered, “Would you like to see the letters he wrote me? They’re lovely.” 

Dodie sat on a crate, politely resting his ankle on his knee. “My father sold A Conversation in Sage when I was six years old. You’re telling me you’ve been his boyfriend for nineteen years?” Dodie questioned. Walter nodded. “And I don’t know… Should I see these? Aren’t they—?”

“Your father and I don’t have a physical relationship… Not in that way. We’ve done nothing more than kiss, and I held his hand once in secret. I’m—. Well, I’m impotent, and your father has no interest in sex,” Walter confessed. Dodie’s eyes widened as he looked away. “Would you like to see them? The letters? ” 

“Sure,” Dodie answered, “So… You’ve known my dad for nineteen years, and I’ve never—. Did my mom know about you?” 

“Yes… I’ve spoken to her several times. I’ve never met her, though,” Walter answered as he handed Dodie a stack of letters. “They’re in order. That’s the first twenty letters he sent me. He has a way with words.” 

Dodie opened the first envelope. “ Dear Walter… I hope I’m not being forward by sending this letter. I’m afraid I find myself thinking of you without meaning to. I carry the image of you around in my spirit. The weight of your absence bears down on my soul. I long for your company. I desire nothing more than to sit beside you, passing the days. Your companionship calls to me. I fear I have nothing of substance to offer you. What I feel may seem juvenile because I am new to this. It would be enough to simply gaze into your eyes and bask in their warmth ,” Dodie read silently to himself. He smiled at Walter. He grabbed the last letter in the stack. 

“ Dearest Walter… It was lovely seeing you. I feel giddy every time I think of what could be. I’m frightened that it will be too much for my heart. I paint pictures of men and women that don’t resemble you but do not be mistaken. All of them are inspired by your spirit. 

“You are my first love. I feel alive saying that. There is nothing more exquisite than this feeling. It might even surpass the taste of food itself. You are everything I could’ve wanted in a companion. I love you. I crave you. I want to hear your laughter and wipe your tears when you cry. Walter, I look forward to the next glance. The next letter. The next earthy-smelling letter. You’re so comforting to my spirit. 

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you for showing me that this could be possible. ”

Dodie looked away, his eyes welling up with tears. 

“God… My dad loves you so much. Sorry—. I—. I was so selfish. I just—.” 

Walter set Dodie’s coffee mug on a crate. “You’re his son. He didn’t want his romantic affairs to be your concern. He was hesitant to mention you. Daniel wanted to protect you from any hardship that he felt his personal life might’ve introduced. You weren’t selfish. You were unaware,” Walter reassured him, “As a young man, it must be a shock.” 

“It is, but I’m getting used to it. You seem like a nice person, though. I don’t know what I expected. I’m still worried about my mom’s girlfriend. Have you met her?” Dodie questioned. Walter nodded. “What’s your opinion of her?” 

“You know Sibyl. I was shocked when I met her, but you’ve probably seen her in passing. What was it like, by the way? I’ve always been curious. Your mother’s a nurse and your father’s an artist. What is that like? Was there any pressure to do one or the other?” Walter questioned. 

“No, not really. I was always an artistic kid… So, I naturally ended up becoming an architect,” Dodie laughed, “And I sell dollhouses that are replicas of people’s homes sometimes. Mom really enjoys that.” 

“Oh! How did you get into making dollhouses?” Walter questioned. 

“When I was little, my mom used to have this dollhouse that her grandma gave her. Whenever she had a bad day at work, she’d sit beside it in her chair, and open it up. I used to climb into her lap, and she’d guide my fingers over the finer details, telling me stories about dollhouses being piggy banks for memories. Bad and good, ” Dodie answered, “And it stuck. I learned how to make birdhouses, then I learned how to build regular dollhouses. I kept doing more and more until I was making miniature houses.” 

“That’s amazing. I’d like to see some of your work someday,” Walter smiled. A woman entered the house, grunting as she set grocery bags on the ground. Walter held a finger up as he went to meet her in the family room.

“Dodie’s here. You should introduce yourself,” Walter whispered. 

“Is he upset?” she whispered. 

“No, he’s a lovely kid. Go on. I’ll get the groceries,” Walter replied. 

The woman stepped into the family room, taking off her powder blue heels and walking toward the young man. Her silvery curls were pulled back into a ponytail. The woman was buxom and older, but not so old that he didn’t recognize her face. “Hi, Deanie. Do you remember me at all?” she asked. Her voice was so sweet, it immediately sent Dodie back to his childhood. “You didn’t know me as Sibyl. I think you knew me as—.”

“Ms. Graves… This one is a little—. My dad—. We—. You were the model for my dad’s photography phase. Mom never spoke to you. Not once. I would’ve remembered. I practically lived in Dad’s art studio back then,” Dodie stated. He squinted as he tried to remember a time when his mother and Sibyl could’ve met.

“Dodie, I used to invite your mom for dinner when you and Daniel went to the movies,” Sibyl replied, “We were very discreet… The furniture people are on their way. So, we’ll have a couch in a little bit. Are you staying for dinner? Kathy said she’s going to cook.” Dodie nodded.

[blathannabeaga]

.☽༊˚ january writing; persimmons

joe mcnamara x reader

feat. qrf!reader, secret relationship, fluff

For not the first time, upon your arrival in Baku you draw the short straw and get to unload the team’s mountain of equipment whilst everyone else sleeps off the jetlag and explores the lush intelligence site. 

From inside one of the suite of rooms that Meade had scared the Azerbaijani officials into coughing up for you, the sounds of heavy footsteps and hushed conversations reach your ears above the clanks and thuds of rifle cases and tech setups as you sort through all that the mission had necessitated you bring with you. Sunlight filters in through the ajar windows, falling across your working hands in crooked segments and you’d appreciate the beauty of it if only you weren’t so mind-numbingly bored.

You’ve got two ammunition cases and an unweildy computer case left to unpack when the door at the far side of the room creaks open, and Joe slips in. Even after a more than twelve-hour flight listening to Randy’s snoring and Two Cups’ whinging, she looks pretty as ever in her navy dress shirt and neatly pressed suit pants as she weaves her way around duffel bags and carry cases to you. Light catches in the loose waves of her hair as they fall around her face, her bright smile needing no help from the sun to shine as she swings a crinkling plastic bag aloft in her hand before dropping it on the desktop in front of you.

From the loose mouth of the spills a plump, tangerine-coloured persimmon still with sage-green leaves curling out from the stem, slackening the cheap plastic to reveal a half-dozen more inside. Spoiled as you and the team are with Randy’s cooking giving you reprieve from the gruel served to you at the FOBs and bases you frequent, the sight of such a simple delicacy is enough to make your stomach growl behind your fatigues.

Joe grins not unkindly at your easily-won contentedness , tilting her head down as she fishes a slim pocket knife from her trouser pocket. Deft fingers curl around one of the fruits and she cuts into it, beads of orange-tinted juice dripping down her hand as she slices the persimmon into quarters. She keeps just one plush segment for herself, pushing the remainder into your cupped hand as the pink of her tongue cleans the droplets of juice from her hand. You waste no time in tearing into the soft fruit, and she smiles despite herself.

“Always knew I was your favourite.” You enunciate clumsily, around an eager mouthful of sweet flesh. Tiredness is written all over your face, but you look up at her with more affection than she’s known to be possible.

“Always knew I was your favourite.” You enunciate clumsily, around an eager mouthful of sweet flesh. Tiredness is written all over your face, but you look up at her with more affection than she’s known to be possible. 

“If you didn’t already, I’ve been doing something wrong.” Her voice is low, curbed with an artless quality you only ever hear her use with you. A bead of juice escapes from your lips, falling down your chin before Joe reaches out to dab it away with her thumb, letting her hand linger on your cheek and you making no move to stop her. 

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I love you writing and I want to know what you see oot Zelda and her husband’s relationship being like and what is her relationship with link and Malon and t one point did she and link ever have any romantic feelings for one or the other

I’m very happy to hear that you love my writing! :D And what fun questions! :D

I feel like OoT Zelda is a force to be reckoned with, while kindhearted, so she’d never let herself be put in a position she doesn’t like - ergo, no arranged/political marriages that she doesn’t approve of first. She’d probably scope out the scene of eligible bachelors, hone in on one she likes and be like “yup that’s the one” and sweep him off his feet LOL. It could be a noble from Hyrule, or someone of importance from another country.

Seeing as there’s only like, three or four other countries that Nintendo has created, I feel like someone from Labrynna would be the most appropriate - its land is a republic by the Hero of Legend’s era, but that’s far in the future of the Fallen Timeline, and it was known to have a monarchy at some point, and it’s known for a control of time, which seems appropriate for her. So I’d say her husband is from there. I’d like to think they have a decent relationship; maybe her husband helps reel her in from being too brazen, and her kind heart soothes him as he might be used to being ignored, like maybe he’s the youngest royal child in the family and therefore kind of just tossed aside. Zelda very much tries to just do everything, from ruling to being a good mother to being a sage, and her husband (and friends) sometimes has to step in and tell her to chill out. (I’ve already written one arranged marriage that’s rocky as all get out, I might as well make this one kind of work haha)

As for her relationship with Link and Malon, boy do I have some thoughts! I feel like initially Zelda and Link were on friendly terms, but Link, having gone through OoT, did not know how to separate Child Zelda from Adult Zelda and it makes things complicated for him. He starts to avoid Zelda, on his search for Navi anyway, and when he’s a teenager he’s angsting hard and having all sorts of feelings. Zelda doesn’t understand what’s wrong, and while she never got to know Link too well, she recognizes he saved Hyrule and wants to be his friend, at least. Was there an attraction there at some point? Probably, but it was definitely skewed/one sided; Link’s more mature body with his insanely messed up development/mind made him attached to Adult Zelda, but he knows this isn’t the same person, and Zelda thinks he’s attractive and all but can’t get a read on him.

As Link struggles, he reconnects with Malon, and they become friends once more. He has difficulty differentiating her too, but it’s not quite as bad because he wasn’t as directly connected to Malon from the Adult Timeline. She serves as a safe place for him to process and hang out, even if he doesn’t stay for long periods of time. Their feelings for each other would be gradual, going from friends to an attraction (Malon always did love a knight, and while Link doesn’t wear the armor he does fit the bill), and by the time they’re in their twenties they start to court. By this point, Malon also helps Link reconcile his feelings with Zelda, and he reconnects with her too, eager to continue helping Hyrule and rekindle their friendship.

Eventually, I think that would make them all friends. Link, Malon, Zelda, and maybe even Zelda’s husband could all be on good terms.

[fictionally-driven]

Chapter 2: Purple Sage

pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader

trigger warnings: violence, blood, murder, imprisonment, suggestive, ptsd, mentions of child abuse, false convictions, recovery, anxiety, scamming

AN: If anyone wants to be a part of the taglist for this series, please let me know via comments/reblogs or asks. Reblogs of the work are always appreciated. Thank you!

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Wriothesley closed the file with a heavy thud, a deep frown etched across his face. (Y/N) was her name; he’d gathered that from the file. She was a florist, which explained why she had seemed quite annoyed about the flowers when she stumbled against him that evening in Fontaine. Her records up until recently were clean—those of a law-abiding citizen. But the last few pages of the file painted a damning picture: she’d been convicted of the murder of a merchant.

The case was laid out methodically, almost too neatly. The merchant, a man with whom (Y/N) had a known feud over business disputes, had met a gruesome end. The bouquet of Lumidouce Bells and edible flowers was sprayed with the toxic concentrate of Lily of the Valley, a deadly concoction. He had touched the flowers, unwittingly transferring the poison onto his skin, and then used the edible flowers to make tea. The poison took its toll swiftly, leaving little room for doubt.

The investigation had moved quickly. The merchant's son-in-law was the first to raise suspicions, his voice ringing loud and clear in the aftermath of the merchant's death. The body was analyzed in the morgue, revealing traces of the toxic concentrate. Vials of similar toxins were found in the backroom of (Y/N)'s flower shop, seemingly sealing her fate. She insisted on her innocence, claiming she had delivered the flowers to a servant, but the evidence was damning. The court sentenced her to twenty-five years in Meropide.

Wriothesley placed the closed file to the side, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the desk. Everything was too convenient, too perfect in its damning assembly. He had been informed by the Gardes that Sigewinne had taken (Y/N) to the infirmary after she was tricked for her coupons and given stale food. Anyone in Meropide knew the cafeteria food was free, though randomized. How could someone who allegedly planned a murder so meticulously be naive enough to trust strangers with her coupons?

His curiosity piqued, Wriothesley rose from his chair and made his way to the infirmary. The corridors of Meropide were familiar to him like the back of his hand. After all, for most of his life, it had been his home. The metallic clang of doors and the distant murmur of voices faded into the background as he approached the infirmary.

Inside, Sigewinne was at her desk, humming a cheerful tune as she filed paperwork. The Melusine’s small form was a stark contrast to the grim surroundings, her presence a rare beacon of warmth for the inmates of Meropide. A mug filled with what could only be one of her infamous milkshakes sat beside her, its odd color indicative of her peculiar tastes.

"Your Grace!" Sigewinne beamed as he entered, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Would you like a milkshake? I made it myself."

Wriothesley chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “No, thank you, Sigewinne. I think I’ll pass.”

Sigewinne’s milkshakes were notorious in Meropide for their peculiar ingredients, which she swore by for their health benefits. Wriothesley had tried them multiple times, and it had taken all his self-control not to gag. He couldn't help but wonder what bizarre ingredients she had blended this time.

"How is she?" he asked, his tone softening.

Sigewinne glanced towards one of the infirmary beds where (Y/N) lay, her face pale and drawn. “She’s resting now. I’ve given her something to settle her stomach and some proper food to regain her strength.” Her expression softened. “She was in pretty bad shape when I brought her in. Dehydration, fatigue, stress… you name it. I have also given something for the blisters on her palms."

Wriothesley walked over to (Y/N)'s bedside, his gaze taking in her fragile state. Even in her weakened condition, there was a quiet strength in her features. His mind drifted back to their encounter in Fontaine. She had been full of life then, her eyes sparking with annoyance and fire. Now, they were closed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"Thank you, Sigewinne," he said, turning back to the Melusine. "Keep an eye on her for me, will you. I have a feeling she’ll need any assistance she can get here to get back on her feet." Wriothesley moved closer, his presence imposing yet gentle. He could see the faint lines of worry on (Y/N)'s forehead, the dark circles under her eyes. She had clearly been through an ordeal.

(Y/N)'s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, confusion clouded her gaze. Then recognition dawned, and she stiffened, clearly remembering their previous encounter. "You," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Wriothesley nodded. "Yes, it's me. I'm Wriothesley, the Warden of Meropide."

Her eyes widened in shock and horror, her voice barely above a whisper. “I... I'm so sorry about your shoes..."

He glanced down at his boots, now cleaned and showing no signs of the events from earlier. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving her apology away. "It's just a pair of shoes, they’re all cleaned up."

She tried to sit up, but Wriothesley clicked his tongue, gently pressing her back down. "Rest. Rest here as long as Sigewinne allows you to. After all, the mattresses here in the infirmary are far more comfortable than the ones in the dorms." He paused, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "But don't tell anyone I said that. I’d get into trouble as the Warden for admitting such things."

A chuckle escaped her lips, a small but genuine sound that seemed to lighten the room as he wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks.

Wriothesley’s expression softened further. "How many coupons did you lose earlier?"

Her gaze wavered, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. He repeated his question, his voice gentle. "You won't get into any trouble, (Y/N). Just tell me who tricked you."

Her gaze became downcast, avoiding his eyes. "I... I don't remember their names," she stammered.

Wriothesley could see she was lying, her eyes wavering and unable to meet his gaze. He decided not to press further. "How much did you lose?" he asked again.

"200," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Wriothesley sighed. He had seen her records and knew that it was her first wage from the production zone. Even now, when she had the opportunity to lie about the credit coupons to inflate their number, she stuck to the truth. He reached into his pocket and handed her 200 coupons.

She shook her head, her eyes widening. "I can't take these," she protested.

"Yes, you can," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"No, really, I can't," she said, pushing the coupons back towards him. "I don't deserve them."

Wriothesley clicked his tongue again, shaking his head. "You're not in a position to refuse help. Take the coupons. Consider it as me compensating it for damaging your flowers a few days ago.”

"But—" she started.

"No buts," he interrupted. "You need these more than I do."

She hesitated, her hand trembling as she finally took the coupons. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Wriothesley nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just get some rest and recover. We'll figure out the rest later."

(Y/N) let out a very shaky breath, covering her eyes with the back of her arm. Wriothesley could see her lips quiver, understanding that she was holding back her tears. He understood the need for composure despite her vulnerable state.

“It was all a mistake,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “I shouldn’t be here. I… I didn’t kill anyone!”

Wriothesley didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his position pressing down on him. As the Warden, he was expected to remain impartial, to enforce the law without bias. But his conscience whispered that there was truth in her words, something in her demeanor that spoke of sincerity and desperation.

“Be that as it may,” he said carefully, choosing his words with deliberate precision, “if what you say is true, it will eventually come to light. The truth has a way of surfacing, and when it does, you will be a free person.”

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Who knows how long that will take,” she muttered, frustration lacing her voice.

Wriothesley hummed in agreement. “I can’t change the verdict that’s been passed, but I can assure you that Meropide isn’t as terrible as the surface world makes it out to be.”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “My experience says otherwise,” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “I dislike it here. It’s so gloomy, and the constant metal clanking noises startle me. People are rude and hostile. There’s no sunlight, no fresh air, and not a single plant or a shred of greenery here that isn’t mold!” Her words tumbled out in a tense ramble, each complaint pouring from her as if a dam had burst. “Here, everything is gray and lifeless. No offense.”

Wriothesley chuckled softly at her last remark. “Of all the things you could list, you’re concerned about the lack of plants?”

She looked at him, her eyes fierce despite the tears brimming in them. “You’d be surprised how plants can liven up even the dreariest environments,” she retorted. “I miss my flowers and plants. They brought me peace, a sense of normalcy. Even in the worst of times, they were a constant.”

Wriothesley nodded thoughtfully, her words resonating with him. "I suppose you're right," he conceded. "Plants do have a way of brightening up a space."

(Y/N) sighed, the tension in her body slowly ebbing away. "I miss my shop, my work…" she murmured, more to herself than to him. "The smell of fresh flowers, the way the sun would filter through the windows in the morning. It was my sanctuary."

Wriothesley leaned against the infirmary bed, his arms crossed. "Tell me about it," he encouraged, sensing that talking might help ease her distress.

She glanced at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. But she took a deep breath and began. "It wasn't much, just a small shop in a quiet part of Fontaine that I inherited from my grandmother. I grew all the plants myself, tended to them every day. There were always fresh bouquets in the window, and people would come in just to admire them, even if they didn't buy anything. I loved seeing their faces light up. There was this one little girl who would visit every week, just to smell the flowers. It was... peaceful."

Wriothesley listened intently, picturing the vibrant little shop she described. "Sounds like a lovely place," he said softly.

"It was," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "And now... it's all gone."

Wriothesley leaned closer, his expression softening. "Don't give up hope yet," he urged. "If you were wrongfully convicted, then I have faith in the Iudex of Fontaine to uncover the truth. Chief Justice Neuvillette is no longer reliant on the Oratrice. He's thorough and fair. If there is evidence to prove your innocence, he will find it."

She looked at him, a flicker of hope mingling with her lingering despair. "But what if it takes too long? What if it never happens?" she whispered, her voice fragile.

"Once you've recovered and feel well-rested," Wriothesley continued, "come see me in my office. We'll talk more about your case and see what we can do to get you a fair review."

(Y/N) nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wriothesley turned to Sigewinne, who had been silently watching their exchange. He gave the Melusine a nod, a silent request to take good care of (Y/N). "Keep an eye on her," he said, his voice gentle. "Make sure she gets the care she needs."

"Of course, Your Grace," Sigewinne replied with a warm smile. "She'll be well looked after."

With one last glance at (Y/N), Wriothesley left the infirmary, his mind already racing with thoughts and plans. As he walked through the familiar corridors of Meropide, he mentally prepared himself to write to Neuvillette. He knew that if anyone could uncover the truth, it was Neuvillette. The man's dedication to justice was unparalleled.

Arriving at his office, Wriothesley sat down at his desk, pulling out parchment and ink. His thoughts were focused, determined. He wrote to Neuvillette first, outlining the details of (Y/N)'s case and his concerns about the evidence that seemed too neatly arranged. He trusted Neuvillette's judgment and knew that if anyone could see through a potential miscarriage of justice, it was the Chief Justice.

Next, he penned a request to the Spina di Rosula, something that was second nature to him despite remaining elusive to its boss. He’d often contacted them to make requests for material and goods for Meropide and this time was no different.

Sealing the letters, Wriothesley leaned back in his chair. (Y/N) deserved justice, and he was committed to doing everything in his power to ensure that the truth was uncovered. Meropide might be a place of punishment, but it was also a place where hope could still thrive in the form of second chances and a reset, whichever was to one’s liking. He handed the letters to his trusted Gardes as he retired for the day.

The corridors of Meropide seemed a little less cold as he made his way back to his quarters. The clang of metal doors and the murmur of voices faded into the background, his thoughts focused on the task ahead. He would ensure that (Y/N)'s voice was heard, and that if she was indeed innocent, she would find her freedom once more.

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