#if only the man weren't so... prickly

[wannaeatramyeon]

How Lookism men confess to YOU they've caught feelings

G/N. Soft. Fluffy. All that good stuff. (Gun, Jake, Goo, James Lee/DG, Johan, Vin, Samuel, Eli, Ryuhei)

Gun opts for somewhere private, just the two of you. Whether that's his home, yours, or somewhere only you both know.

He tells you with certainty his feelings for you. That there's no point divulging if he didn't think it would work out, if you weren't better together.

Intensity radiates from him. His words, eyes, aura. He keeps his confession simple and to the point, unexpectedly romantic with how matter of fact he is.

.

.

Jake thought he was being subtle, but there's a lot of prying eyes in the shadows.

He shoos the Big Deal members away in his best authoritative, no nonsense boss tone. The one he reserves to deal with serious matters. Which this is. Of utmost seriousness.

Behind his beaming toothy grin and confident stance are anxious eyes. His words are cheesy and well-rehearsed. Sincerity pulses through his every fibre, leaving you starry eyed and breath hitched.

.

.

Goo announces his feelings with a grin on his lips.

Corners you somewhere crowded, at a completely inappropriate moment. But of course. It's only inappropriate if Goo deems it to be so, and there's no time like the present.

The words are said lightly, like he could play it off as a joke any moment. His ego too fragile for rejection. But his carefree attitude is off kilter, body language tense. Gaze steady and more serious than you have ever seen.

.

.

James is flippant. The arrogant, cocky man claims you as his already. Confesses without any doubt in his mind that rejection could happen, or it could sting.

He's not a gambling man. Only plays when the odds are in his favour and the gains far outweighs the losses.

There's no ifs or buts. Talks about 'us' and 'we' and a future where you're by his side.

.

.

Johan pulls out the words reluctantly and when you least expect. Like they will choke him if he keeps it from you any longer.

He says it without looking at you. Eyes fixed on the ground, a point in the distance, Miro, Eden, anywhere but you.

Brows knitted together, hands white knuckled. A second away from running away. But he needs to tell you, he has to. The words are too big to swallow down anymore.

.

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Vin peppers his confession with insults and half-jokes. A type of self defence to spare his heart.

Hands in pocket, like it's no big deal. Words spilling out, trying to inject indifference into them. Back against the wall, peering over at you. 

Sunglasses firmly on, eyes shielded. Because he can't bear to be any more vulnerable than he has to right now. His words are barbed and prickly, but his feelings are completely bared.

.

.

Samuel offers his heart in between lofty promises and delusions of grandeur.

Words murmured against the back of your hand, breath ghosting over your skin. Eyes fixed on yours, fiery and almost challenging you to say no.

But a relentless phantom haunts him, one that he silences over and over again.

-That being by his side won't be enough, that offering you to be his queen is inadequate, lacking and there's so much more that you deserve.

Still, he promises you the world and is committed to giving you nothing less.

.

.

Trepidation lines Eli’s words. Like he can’t believe he’s here again. After everything that has happened, with everything on his plate.

He’s forced himself to make room for you, carved out a part of his life.

He confesses in a cramped dusty room in Hostel. Sat opposite one another on rickety uneven chairs, so close your knees are touching and there’s no personal space left. 

Body leaning forward, craving your touch and proximity as he rids the last remnants of hesitancy and takes a leap of faith.

.

.

Ryuhei tells you over and over again.

Until it becomes a daily mantra of sorts for him, and part of your day for you. At first as a joke, or at least you thought so. And then his earnestness snowballed until you could no longer ignore it.

He confesses, with the same sort of childish joy he always feels when he's with you. Tonight, his blood is thrumming in his vein and his pulse is beating in his ears.

With a hushed voice and hope in his eyes: he tells you once more.

[baby-tini]

M4S

It was quiet… too quiet. The leaky pipe making puddles on the floor. The cold, damp air causes goosebumps to perk up on your arms and the hairs to stand up. Trying to move slightly, you hiss at the sharp cuffs as they bite at your raw wrists, the chair groans as you wriggle around in discomfort. Your thighs numb from not moving around, cracking your neck, you whine at the release of tension. The tight ropes giving you some relief when you inhale but cause you to choke up from the smell of bleach. Your ass is sore from the hard, wooden chair as you attempt to wiggle again, get some of the blood flow back into your legs, stretching them feels to hard as the lack of flow makes them feel heavier.

There's a bang upstairs… like a gun shot, then a harsh, bloody cry. One of pain and agony, it feels close but.. far? You're tired, hungry.. dazed maybe? Were you drugged? No, maybe it's just the lack of oxygen from the stuffy room, cold enough to be a basement.. but not quiet enough to be soundproof. Screaming might work, then again, alerting your.. kidnappers, won't benefit you, not even a little, but it's all you got. Although before you can even inhale the air there's a door that slams open not too far away from where you're tied up. It sounds broken from the sickening crack you hear reverberate off the walls. The stampede of steps sound angry, aggressive, the harsh groan of the steps and ear-splitting squeak of shoes tells you that much.

There's loud yelling in Japanese, then a sharp slap to your face, your head flies left so hard your neck cramps up, causing a dull pain to shoot through you. The whimper in pain is laughed off by the men… men? Maybe two, possibly three but you can't tell for sure. It hurts though, everything hurts, and everything hurts even more when a rough hand grabs a fist-full of your hair and yanks back at the root, causing a scream to rip from your throat, only for a bigger, colder hand to clamp around your throat and squeeze tight. A hand, soft and warm wipes away the sweat from your brow, sliding from your cheek to the fat of your lips and running a thumb? over it, tapping the bottom twice, your jaw dropping for entry, the loose feeling of your jaw is nice, until you feel a cold, hard piece slip between them… a gun. The tip of your tongue meets the trigger and you freeze up, attempting to pull away, only for the hand gripping your hair to pull you forward, making you gag on it. There's bile attacking the back of your throat, trying to force it back with a swallow only makes the gun slide deeper, the metal cutting the corners of your lips as your blindfold is pulled off.

"There's no use in pulling back, angel." A man, more on the shorter side, no taller than 5'5, with black hair speaks to you. His voice sound's deep and alluring, you'd go as far as to say sexy if it weren't for the circumstances. He looks similar to his counterpart, the one with white hair, just, not the blonde. The blonde looks the same.. but different? He looked meaner, more provokable, the one with his hand around your throat. The blondes hand tightened when you continued to force yourself away from the gun in the hand of the man with white hair.

There's little strength used to push you back onto the gun, your throat spasming around the intrusive piece of metal. The gag that comes from your throat is loud but muffled at the same time. The hand used to push you further onto the Dessert Eagle -that also has his hand in your hair- is connected to that of a black-haired man, the cut and color really fitting his skin tone and face. He's attractive.. they all are, but, you're still tied up in their basement, the ropes still tight around your abdomen. The prickly fibers on the rope, passing through your thin clothes and leaving an itchy and raw feeling on your skin. The ropes rubbing against the inevitable cuts on your stomach and chest.

The black-haired man leans down, as he pulls your head further back, the quirk of his lips obvious but not genuine. His eyes are the worst, big, black, soulless pits. There's something.. dark, maybe sinister even. Eyes that belong to a killer, not a human being. The eyes of tragedy and sin, not of praise and prayer. He's.. too close, his big black, bottomless eyes, they're scary. Like they can see through you, like theres nothing in them. You can't see a pupil, does he have pupils? He must, but then again, he's not the most… normal looking man you've ever met.

You're lost in a daze, the mans dark eyes like a never-ending abyss, that, you don't realize the calling of your name by the three men, that is, until you feel the hand wrapped around your throat -by the long-haired blonde- slap your cheek. Not as hard as you would've guessed but hard enough to snap you out of your daze. The cloudiness of your eyes leaving and the limp state goes away. The redirect of your mind leads you to look at the man with white hair. He has the same dead, black eyes but.. he looks more tired, more exhausted. He looks like skin and bones, the clothes he's wearing hanging off him noticeably.

The man with white hair speaks up, "When one of us asks a question, you answer, not a moment before and certainly not a moment after. Do you understand.. I said, Do. You. Understand?" You give a nod after a moment of hesitance, the pupil of your eyes dilate at the gun. Your whole body is trembling, "are you gonna kill me..?" It comes out as a muffled whimper, around the gun, less of what you planned but suitable nonetheless, given the situation. You wish they didn't hold so much power but.. these men looked dangerous, it would be best to play as submissive as possible.. be their little angel, so to speak.

The white-haired man stares at you for a second, "I won't kill you if… you give me what I want, deal?" There's an automatic nod to your head. The glow in your eyes speaks for you, as you try to lean forward ready to give them everything… only to freeze at the sadistic grin he -the white-haired man- gives you. The man, slides the gun out of your mouth and uses it to lift your chin, "You eager.. huh, pretty doll?" The fat of your cheeks flush at his words but you don't pull away, not like you were ables to anyway. He -the white-haired man- leans down in-front of your face, "You don't know what I want.. do you babydoll.. huh?" There's an automatic shake of your head, the back down, courtesy of the fear you're feeling. Then comes the tears, the salty water pouring down your cheeks as your throat starts to close up and you start to panic.

There's a quick swap of position, the blonde now stands behind you, with a loose hand around your throat. The black-haired man still has a fist in your hair, but his other hand starts wiping away the tears from your cheeks and rubbing his thumb under your brow to coarse you into a false sense of vulnerability. The white-haired man stays put, the gun still pointed in your face and those dark eyes still glued on you as his hands stay eerily steady.He doesn't seem bothered and you'd bet millions that he's not, this seems to be an everyday occurence for him.

"W- what did you want..?" your voice leaves in a stutter, the sound of a pained whimper, is apparent to the men, that you're terrified. Then again, they could tell by your eyes, the eyes of a scared fawn, just what they like. The blonde speaks up, "We want our money back… the same money you and your little boyfriend owe us." There's a confused gargle at the back of your throat as you look up at him. The black-haired man starts chuckling, "C'mon now, princess. I really hope you don't pull the confusion bullshit like everyone else.." You shake your head at them, "I truly don't know what you're talking about, I didn't steal money."

The blondes hand tightened around your throat, the red imprints already stinging, "lying will only make us angry, maybe you should try telling us the truth. You'll get out of here a lot quicker if you do." You shake your head, only for it to be yanked back by the hand in your hair. The hand in your hair starts moving your head in a 'yes' motion and he laughs in your face, leaning closer. "You'll tell us what we want to know, angel?" The man guides your head again, moving it against your will, causing more tears to slip down your cheeks as your cries come out in pained whines because of the hand necklace you were so kindly given, against your will, of course.

The blonde speaks up, "we know you know what money we're talk- what's this, huh?" He pulls out a dime bag of coke from your bra. The reaction is immediate, to start thrashing in the chair again. Causing the black-haired man to lose his grip on your hair and get pushed away. The slap to your thighs are an immediate aftermath, the stinging causes your thighs to twitch open involuntarily. The gunman steps between them, he's close, too close, his breath smells of red bean paste, dorayaki.. maybe? The man slips the gun down from your jugular to your collarbone, leaving a angry red line.

"Please, that's not mine, I'm just… holding it for a friend. I- It- please, sir listen." There's a look between the men then a laugh. The black- haired man speaks up, getting close to your ear. "Sir, huh? That a lil'.. kink of yours sweetheart?" There's an immediate look of embarrassment, the dark blush climbing up your neck. The blonde leans down on your right, "oh, she likes that… you like this don't you? You like being tied up and having a gun pointed at your head, huh? You're a sick little bitch, you know that?" His hand glides down your clavicle to your stomach, then trailing down to your thighs then gliding his hand back up. The blonde takes out a knife and cuts the restraints on your wrists and ankles, then sheathes it back into his pocket.

"Please… it wasn't on me, it was Akamai, I swear, I didn't know, those fucking drugs aren't mine." There's a whine to the plead in your voice, just noticeable for the three… men, in front of you. "But, that's not entirely true… is it, pretty girl? You knew what your little… what? Boyfriend? Was doing, you came with him, is he.. your little..?"He gestures to your clothes. His two brothers behind him also give you curious eyes. Giving you a full once over, staring at your breasts, a little longer then necessary.

There's a look of disgust on your face, "are you calling me a whore??" There's a harsh lash in your tone. There's a chuckle from all three men. "No princess, well.. maybe, I mean look at you, you're dressed like a little slut. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he'd pimp you out?" It's quick- but not quick enough, your attempt to wrangle the throat of the man in front of you is quickly shut down by his twin? Brother? You're still not sure, but they're too similar to just be brothers. Then again, you doubt they'll tell you, if the gun pointed at your head right now tells you anything. BANG.

The bullet speeds past your face, cutting your cheek in the process. There's a slight sting but nothing serious. The bullet hits the drywall behind you, leaving a small hole. The sickly looking man leans down in-front of you and laughs in your face. His breath reeks of sugary treats.

You're yanked out of the chair by your hair, you trip and fall to your knees but the white-haired man continues to drag you to a door, it leads to a smaller room with a bed. The room is bland and cold, there's only a bed, with no sheets or covers.. no pillow and comforter either. The bed itself is small and looks to be covered in.. blood. The fluids on the bed are dried and old, browning in spots and dark red in others.

"Is this where you keep your sex slaves?" There's a chuckle from the blonde and black-haired man but a scoff from the man dragging you by your hair, "we don't keep "sex slaves".. we don't need to. Women pay to have sex with us, angel.. but there's a first for everything. Maybe you're the golden girl, hm?" The man lays you down on the bed and the black-haired man stands next to him. "Yeah, I like her, we'll keep her." The men make the agreement together, disregarding you completely.

"Who are you guys anyway?" There's a silence then a scoff from each men, "you seriously don't know who we are?" You hesitate for a moment, "I know who you guys are, kinda, The Sano brothers… that's it, I don't even.. know your names." They all step towards you simultaneously, the white-haired man speaks first.

"I'm Manjiro Sano, the one with black-hair is Jiro Sano and the blonde is Mikey Sano." The white-haired man clarifies. You look between the men. "So, are you guys- Manjiro and Jiro twins?" They nod. Then Mikey walks around his brothers and pushes you down on to the bed.

"We're willing to cut you a deal, sweetheart, sex in exchange for your freedom, we'll have your.. boyfriends head instead, sound good?" He states, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You look at Mikey then his brothers, nodding your head as you kiss at Mikeys finger-tips. All three men grin and the other two get on the bed as well.

Jiro, pushes you down to climb on top of you. As he starts to kiss up your neck, Manjiro kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he runs his hand down your stomach, to your thighs and pulls them open. Mikey climbs in-between them, pulling at your pants. He throws them to the side, he takes his thumb and runs it over your clit, through your panties. He slips his index down you clothed slit. There's a wet patch under his fingers and he pats your cunt a couple times.

You whine into the mouth enclosing yours, running your left hand through Jiros hair. Tugging at the black strands, he groans into your neck, biting down a little harder. He pulls back to see the fresh teeth imprints, then he goes back down, he starts to mark other parts of your neck. Mikey licks you through your panties, nipping at the fabric and nuzzles his nose into your clit, causing you to try and jerk away. Mikey grabs you by the thighs and pulls you back down, towards his mouth.

He finally pulls your panties off and swipes the tip of his tongue over your clit, twirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. Then sucking harshly on it. You pull yourself away from Manjiros mouth, to throw your head back and cry out in ecstasy. The cry is pretty to them, they want- they need more, they're hungry for it. Mikey pulls back from the cunt, there's a quick whine from you but it's cut short when Manjiro kisses you again. Mikey spits on your slit, then uses his index and middle to smear it on your pussy. Making sure to deliver slow, tight circles around your clit. He leans back down to assault your clit again, giving it wet kisses as he slips two fingers inside and scissoring them apart.

There's a hiss of pleasure that escapes through your lips but Manjiro is there to shush you. Jiro pulls back, "we have to make this quick, I have a meeting with Toman in thirty." He states, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. Mikey pulls back and also slips his pants and boxers off, as he does that, Manjiro places another kiss on your lips and pulls back. He doesn't undress, he just slips the undergarments below his cock. Then pushes into your mouth, your tongue wrapping around his tip without order.

Mikey leans back to spread your thighs a little wider, he takes his cock in his hand and rubs the tip along your slit, pressing the tip to your clit to circle the nerve before he slides in. The spit providing extra lubrication, as he slips in easily. You look over and make eye-contact with Jiro, the does of your eyes only feeding into your lust as grabs your left hand to wrap it around his cock. Smearing his pre-cum to help jerk him easier.

You're full, so fucking full. You've had sex before but it's never felt this good and you doubt it ever will again. You've never met a man that fills you quite like Mikey and you highly doubt his brothers would disappoint you as well. Judging from how your mouth has to stretch beyond capacity, and how your hand barely fits half-way around Jiros cock. The drugs were worth it, stealing the drugs from Akamai were more worth it then you first thought. You've always wanted to fuck the Sano brothers and if that means framing your money-hungry limp dick boyfriend then so be it.

Jiro moves closer to you and squeezes your hand tighter around his cock, he groans from the pressure and you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist and rubbing your thumb up and down the slit, it causes him to keen over you as he catches himself with his right hand above your head moving his left down to rub at your clit. The added pleasure causes you to squeal around his brothers cock. Your throat spasming around Manjros cock as you attempt to bob your head quicker on his dick. Mikey pulls you closer and pulls both your thighs onto his left shoulder as he fucks you harder, his right hand pressing down on your stomach, as his dick leaves a physical imprint inside you. He gives your left ankle a kiss as he leans his head on your calves, watching as you take his brother down your throat.

Manjiro wraps your hair around his fist as he starts to throat-fuck you. He uses his left hand to wipe away your tears as he rubs his thumb under your right eye. "You're doing so good for us, sweetheart?" You try to nod for him as best you can. He chuckles as you choke from your nodding and gives your right cheek a couple pats before he leans his head back and lowly groans. The sound reverberates around the small, bare room and so does the sound of the bed creaking, occasionally hitting the wall, every now and again.

The body bounces in rapid jerks from the thrusts as all three men fuck you pliant. The gags of your throat sending vibrations through Manjiros cock and he whines. The man looks at you through lidded black eyes. "Tell me now before I finish down your tight throat." There's a rapid nod from your end, you need to feel it slip down your throat, you need to taste him. He nods, letting his head fall back as he cums down your throat. His twin is next, Jiro cumming all over your chest, some getting on your stomach. He breathes heavily as he lazily grins at you, still rubbing tight circles around your clit.

You cum, harder then ever before, harder then you thought possible. Mikey tries to pull out but you shake your head and whine at him, he chuckles at that and pushes all the way to the brim, his balls taut against your ass as he cums inside. He's warm and fills you full, your stomach having a little bump from it, that he so gleefully pushes down on when he pulls out of you, causing the cum the slide out of you. Only for him to use his fingers to slide it back into, with a kiss to the cheek gets up. All three of the men stand up and redress themselves, giving you a smirk as they do so.

Manjiro walks back over to you and pecks your lips and with a peck to the cheeks from Jiro and Mikey, they grant you with the words you've longed to hear, since you saw them that day.

"We're gonna keep you princess.. I hope you don't mind."

[willows-escape]

Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 1

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the topic of the mask was the last obstacle in your blossoming relationship, and you were desperate to cross the barrier and become fully intertwined with the man you loved and claimed he loved you too.

Warnings - erik’s deformity is a mix of the deformity we see erik have as a child in the 1990 version and the musical, phantom having a small breakdown, the ✨mask✨topic, poorly dealt with feelings, miscommunication, suggestive moments and reference to genitalia and arousal, descriptions of a gory facial disfigurement, intense self hatred, mentions of christine but she’s long gone in this

Word Count - 4,770

Notes - there will be a part 2 i gotchu i gotchu. should part 2 be smutty or also just suggestive? also i tried writing this in a victorian-esque tone but if you arent vibing with that let me know and i’ll switch it up for part 2. i just thought it would be a nice touch.

give me feedback !!! pleasee !!!!

01 (you're here!) / 02

The nearby sound of trickling water gracefully blended into the ambiance of your surroundings; the towering trees above you resembled a verdant canopy. The quilt beneath you protected your body from the prickly blades of grass and artificial soil, offering a comfortable spot to recline with your hair spread out beneath you, shimmering in the artificial light.

You laid supine, hands elevated above you to cradle a book you had recently begun reading. The words captivated your attention, submerging you in a realm of fantasy and euphoria. Reading was your preferred means of escaping reality, a release you frequently yearned for when the burdens of the world weighed on your shoulders. It all faded away when you became engrossed in the pages of a book.

Regrettably, you were not the only person who was aware of your coping mechanisms. The situation was quite an affair, so you wouldn’t delve too deeply into the small details, but the love of your life had at long last informed you of his reciprocal affection for you. It felt magical and otherworldly to hear that sweet confession escape his enthralling lips, his eyes penetrating into the depths of your soul as his hands tenderly grasped your waist. You had witnessed the words that you only ever seemed to hear in your dreams.

So what had left you so apprehensive?

Well, the man you spoke so highly about, Erik, did not seem to return those high opinions for you. There was a part of himself he laboured ceaselessly to conceal from you, a mask that symbolically and literally kept up a barrier between your world and his world to prevent them from intertwining. You’d exchanged tender sentiments, cried tears of anguish and passion the night you’d finally confessed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it and subjected each other to a night of basking in vulnerability and fragility as your secrets long harboured tumbled past your tongue before you could restrain them. The morning after was no less exquisite and that of a fairy tale romance, but the barrier remained.

That mask he wore, pale and icy to the touch, silently spoke of his distrust for you. The final puzzle piece that he adamantly refused to fit into place, even for the sake of your love. Oh, it was a cruel predicament indeed! All you desired was to behold the appearance of the man you held dear, but he swore by the highest heavens that his visage would send you fleeing, and that was the last outcome he desired. To some extent, you understood his apprehension, having heard him recount tales of how numerous individuals he had cared for and adored had reacted abhorrently upon the unveiling of his face. But how could he expect the two of you to spend the remainder of your lives together without even a glimpse of his unadorned skin?

You weren't expecting Prince Charming, and while you weren't entirely convinced by his claims of him having a face of nightmares, you did trust that he might not be conventionally attractive. After all, you had never seen him. Besides his gentlemanly actions and his physique that seemed as if it had been crafted by a divine being, you weren't going to assume that he was the most handsome man in the world. You would love him nonetheless. But no matter how greatly you persisted and promised him you wouldn’t leave despite what he looked like, he truly did not believe a word you said. And it hurt.

“A new book, dear?”

You glanced upward, granting the subject of your grovelling a tight lipped smile as you hastily flicked your attention back to the words on the page. No anger dwelled within you, just painful disappointment, and the ache in your heart made it hard to bare the sight of him. “Of course. It’s Jane Eyre.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his walking cane planted firmly into the ground below. You internally winced as the silence rang loud in the air. You were not seeking to upset your lover, but also somehow desiring to communicate that you weren't entirely pleased at the moment. It appeared that the message had travelled clear, but the upset was unavoidable.

A moment more passed before he spoke, “I feel a chill coming on. Seems as though it’s about to rain, don’t you think? Come, let’s retreat inside before it starts to pour.”

You arched a suspicious eyebrow, fingers still tightly clasped around the novel you held. If the plastic animals scattered around that Erik had stolen from the props department said anything, everything in this quaint woodsy area was unquestionably fake. From the dirt to the grass to the trees, the animals and the sky. It went without saying there would be no rainfall. This meant he wanted to discuss things with you without the distraction of your nose being buried within the pages of a book. And you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

“And why should I do that?” you questioned, paying him no eye contact as you pretended to continue to read.

“You wouldn’t want your clothing to get wet, would you? I won’t be visiting the laundry room of the opera house for another week, hence it would be wise to avoid sullying a valuable item of clothing,” he reasoned, knowing fully well that he’d drop whatever he was currently doing to run and fulfil any request you asked of him, never mind visiting the damn laundry room.

You parted your lips, ready to jestingly remark about how there would indeed be no rainfall. Yet, in that very moment, a peculiar sensation graced your senses. A solitary droplet of water descended upon your nose, its touch cold and trailing a path of dampness as it glided down your nasal bridge. A gasp escaped your lips as more droplets descended, their frequency increasing with each passing moment. In a hastened flurry, you stood upright, clasping your cherished book to your bosom. You abandoned the forgotten quilt as you sprinted through the doors adorned with stained glass, leading you back to Erik's modest dwelling. He followed closely, not far behind your hurried steps.

You’d have to speak to him about putting up a gazebo. To block out the sun, you’d tell him.

“Guess you were right,” you half-heartedly chuckled, absentmindedly tossing the book onto a table to the side of you.

You found yourself in Erik’s room of treasures, where he stored and cherished his most esteemed items, namely his collection of masks and his grand piano. The ambiance within was of a tranquil and serene nature, causing your anger to gradually dissipate. Yet, the sorrow and anguish still lingered within you.

"Forgive me, have I down something to displease you?" Erik questioned, his steps measured and deliberate as if he were trying not to startle you, akin to approaching a timid creature. With utmost gentleness, he lightly laid his hand upon your shoulder, allowing it to glide downward, tracing the contour of your arm.

"Erik…" you whispered, tearing your eyes away from him. Your heart faltered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips delicately brushed against your skin. A fire simmered in your core, your veins rushing with hot blood as the touch of his hand engulfed you, overwhelming your senses with a fervour. “I… do not wish to upset you.”

“The only upset you cause me is by not being honest with your feelings,” he replied, hand reaching up to gently trace the skin of your cheek. Your eyes felt weak, gently fluttering shut as you indulged yourself in his affections. “Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

You paused for a moment, allowing yourself to succumb to his touch for a little while longer. The words settled on the tip of your tongue, ready to escape you and take a leap of faith from your mouth to his waiting ears, but you’d already approached this subject with him before and did not wish to push him to frustration or sorrow.

“I just…” you paused, “One day, Erik, do you wish for us to be husband and wife?”

His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock at your blunt statement. He stammered in surprise, removing his hand from your cheek slowly. He drew in a deep breath before answering, “There is nothing I desire more than to be wedded to you. Where is this coming from? Are you feeling as though our relationship is moving too slow? I just didn’t want to frighten you by pushing for more. Why, I’ll marry you tomorrow-”

“Erik, Erik,” you laughed, hand coming up to cup his cheek with your own hand as he was doing to you seconds ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, though I’ll marry you the second you ask it of me. Maybe not tomorrow, however.”

“Ah,” his nerves tingled, goosebumps rising on his skin at the electricity of your touch. He cleared his throat before continuing, “While that is a great relief to me, may I ask as to why you asked that, if not for the reason I previously thought?”

Taking one last final pause, you readied yourself to confess your true want. “I know you’ve said no, and told me to not bring up the subject again… but my love, how can I marry somebody when I have yet to see their face?”

Erik pursed his lips, his eyes shifting down as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. You felt dreadful witnessing the unease that the inquiry evoked in him, understanding that it inevitably resurrected distressing memories he longed to forget. Nevertheless, no advancement could transpire between the two of you in your relationship until he allowed you to see his face. You refused to be bound to someone who concealed such an essential aspect of himself, even if you knew the intentions to be entirely pure.

“I can’t do that,” Erik shook his head, walking away from you and moving towards his basket of walking canes. He placed his current one back with the bunch, before busying himself with rearranging his mask collection. He didn’t want to stray too far from you, but also wanted you to drop the subject.

You quietly tip toed behind him, enveloping him in your arms as you wrapped them around his waist and placed your head on his broad shoulder. You audibly heard his breathing pause, feeling him shiver as he relished in your touch. But nevertheless, he pushed on with rearranging his collection, although he wasn’t moving side to side around the table as he was doing previously.

“But why?” you asked.

“You know why, my face is that of nightmares. And I’ve hurt too many by showing them what they believed they could handle. My expectations are realistic.”

“You could never hurt me!” You insisted, your emotions getting the best of you as you retreated from him. He hunched over slightly, hands resting upon the clear spot of table in front of him to steady himself. His head twitched to the side as he bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Dear, I know you think that I exaggerate when I speak of my face, but I can assure you that I do not lie out of simple insecurity. My own father hid me down here due to my appearance, that must speak volumes,” he sighed, coming up once again to stand straight. “Now please, do not ask again.”

“So when I inevitably return to wallowing in my own feelings and escaping to the woods for hours at a time again, will you tell me to not ask again when you approach the subject of my feelings once more?” you tried to reason, desperately wanting him to view the situation from your point of view.

He didn’t respond for a little while, evidently pondering your words that he knew deep down held some veracity. The matter of the mask was evidently causing you distress, and he couldn't fathom any solution that would alleviate your concerns. But alas, he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

“I’m sorry, my answer’s no.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and longing. Your vision blurred as a single tear cascaded down your cheek, tracing a path of sorrow. Your body trembled with silent sobs, your shoulders shook as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. The ache in your heart grew stronger, as if each tear shed was a testament to the love and vulnerability you had offered, only to be met with rejection.

“My dear, please, don’t cry over me,” his arms swiftly enfolded you in an embrace, his own frame quivering with an inability to endure the sight of your tears. With a resolute tenderness, he pressed his chilled lips upon your forehead, bestowing a gentle kiss as he cradled your head against his chest. In a steady rhythm, he swayed, seeking to soothe your anguish and stifle the heart breaking sounds that escaped your lips.

“How can I not?” you wept, fingers shaking from how firmly you were clinging onto his white button up shirt. You were grabbing on to him so tight you feared your nails would pierce holes in the delicate fabric, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relinquish your grip no matter how much you internally fought with yourself. Nothing you were doing seemed to be venting your frustrations adequately, leaving you at a loss for how to cope. "My love, the very essence of my existence, the one who breathes life into me, steadfastly refuses to show me his face."

“You must understand- I feel for you exactly as you describe your feelings for me, if not tenfold. That’s why I can’t show you. I’m protecting you just as much I want to protect myself,” he confessed, eyes squeezing shut as his swaying slowed to a stop. His grip was becoming tighter and tighter.

“I know life has dealt you an unfair hand, Erik, I’ve heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak. I was there for you all throughout Christine, I was there to see your regret and misery as she left you behind. I did not leave your side for a second. I know the great despair and trauma her reaction to your face cast upon you, but please believe not a hair on my head resembles Christine. I will not hurt you the same.”

Erik held you a little longer, his embrace becoming even more so impossibly tighter. He wasn’t urgent to reply, instead allowing himself to bask in your love for as long as he could manage. Your sweet love was an addiction, an ambrosia he craved every single waking hour. But even then you lived in his dreams, your angelic presence blessing him wherever he went or whatever state he was in.

“I love you, Erik,” you spoke, looking upwards towards him as he began to tilt his head to share your unwavering gaze.

“I love you too,” he said.

“So show me,” you whispered, eyes glistening with tears and lips downturned into a subtle frown.

You took one last look into his eyes, before pushing yourself forward and up. Your lips met in a fervent union, a culmination of the deepest desires and longings that had long been brewing between you both. It was a kiss imbued with a delicate tenderness and an irresistible urgency, your mouths moving in perfect harmony. Each brush of his lips sent electric waves coursing through your body, igniting a blazing fire within your soul. In that timeless moment, you and him surrendered yourselves completely, losing all sense of time and space. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent pledge of profound love and unwavering devotion.

As you reluctantly broke the intimate connection, succumbing to the need for a breath of air, your gaze met his half-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. A blush crept across your cheeks as you attempted to conceal the rapid beating of your heart, finally becoming aware of his hands that had gradually ventured downward, tenderly tracing the curves of your waist.

He silently took a moment to recover, savouring the lingering taste of your kiss. It was unlike any other you had shared before - no longer innocent and brief, but a passionate embrace that ignited a fire within you. As your lips met, it felt as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. The intensity of your connection was palpable, like a match being scraped against a stone, creating small sparks that danced and flickered between your bodies. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, your hearts racing with newfound desire and a longing for more.

“If you really insist on seeing my face, come with me to your room. I do not wish to make you feel cornered, but if you are to faint I wish for you to not bring yourself harm.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The kiss you shared made every colour appear more vibrant and the air feel lighter, filling every fibre of your being with pure bliss. As you followed him, each step felt buoyant, as if you were walking on air.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your room. Erik was very against you two sharing a bedroom, stating that he did not wish to make you uncomfortable or feel trapped next to him, when the reality couldn’t be farther from that. But you feared that he might’ve just been projecting, that he was the one who felt uncomfortable and trapped with the idea of you two sharing a room, so you’d left the topic alone for another day. That day still hasn’t arrived.

Erik took a hold of your hand, gently pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He shook slightly, so lightly that you almost thought your eyes were deceiving you. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything, besides how much I love you,” you giggled.

“I… will not keep you down here, if you decide you never want to see me again. I’ve learnt my lessons, do not fear you reaching the same fate Christine did when she reacted negatively.”

You wanted to protest his words, state that you feeling negatively towards him was inconceivable and never going to happen. You also wanted to tell him to stop mentioning Christine, just the utterance of her name made you scowl. But you didn’t want to argue at a time like this, so you just nodded your head.

“Before I take this awful thing off… that kiss was everything I’ve ever wanted and more. If after this you no longer love me, please know that your display of love made me feel like a normal, living man, and that I’m doing this because I know I can die happy after the fact, if you were to leave.”

“I’m honoured to be able to make you feel that way, my love.”

He hesitantly extended his hand towards the strings that secured his mask to his head, skillfully undoing the knot he had carefully tied. As he prepared to remove the mask, he couldn't help but steal a final wistful glance at you, savoring the moment before gradually peeling it away from his skin, gripping the edges tightly with his other hand. The air seemed to hold its breath as the mask revealed the vulnerable visage beneath, unveiling a hidden side that had long been concealed.

His face was a grotesque sight, something that defied accurate description. The skin was cruelly stripped away, revealing the raw and twisted muscles beneath. It was a horrifying visage, and it made your heart ache. He was deformed, disfigured; the only parts of his face that were covered in flesh were swollen and bright red, contrasting the pale whiteness of his bone. You tried your best to swallow the gasp that was pushing past your throat, but you were human.

You were sure you could hear the sound of his heart shattering, but you were so shocked you could only watch as he crumbled to his knees before you. His screams and cries made you nauseous, his repeated wails of, ‘why!? why!? why!?’ as he grabbed onto the hem of your skirt, hiding his face in the fabric in his suffering. You snapped back into reality, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Erik, no, please-”

“Go, please. Leave me.”

“No, please, hear me out. I don’t hate you-”

“This is hardly a face you’d want to marry!” he protested, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your skirt, resisting as you tried to pull it away. “You may not hate me, but you’re scared! Is this the face of a man you could wake up next to, spend the rest of your love with, make love to at night before we sleep? Please just go!”

“No!” you cried, relenting on your attempts to tear his desperate self away from your skirt. You wrapped your arms around him, this time cradling him against your bosom as you rocked back and forth. You felt the tension slowly dissipate from his form. “I do not hate you and I am not scared of you! I want to do all those things with you, Erik, please I swear!”

His quiet sobs continued to echo through the air, his scared body shaking erratically. With utmost tenderness, you cradled his quivering form in your arms, holding him close and providing a safe haven for his shattered heart. Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance into his ear. Your touch and soothing voice offered him comfort and solace, doing your best to remind him that your love extended far beyond mere physical appearances.

In that moment, as he sought refuge in your embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and compassion for this broken man before you. Despite the mask he wore, both symbolically and literally, you saw the depth of his pain and the vulnerability he rarely allowed others to witness. Your heart ached for him, yearning to heal the wounds that had haunted him for far too long.

"You are more than your face, Erik," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering affection. "Your heart, your soul, and the love we share transcends any physical imperfections. I love you for who you are, please believe that."

As his sobs gradually subsided, he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope and acceptance. In that moment, you saw a spark of belief flicker within him, a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"I… I want to believe you," he choked out, his voice trembling with both fear and longing. "But all my life people have only said different. How can they when I don’t have a face, and only the resemblance of a face?”

You held his face gently in your hands, your touch conveying a tenderness that words alone could not express. "I understand. I’m sorry for reacting like that, please forgive me. I love you regardless of your face, it was just unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That’s all. I feel no differently for you than how I felt before you removed the mask.”

He hesitantly inclined towards your touch, his eyes seeking yours for reassurance and acquiescence. He quivered as a vehement cry escaped his lips once more, bedewing your bodice in his tears. Yet, you cared not the slightest, more preoccupied with consoling the poor man trembling before you.

You both sat together on the floor of your bedroom for an indeterminate span of time, but to you it felt like hours. You cradled him like a mother would her infant, tenderly caressing and comforting him with gentle touches and whispered reassurances. You hadn’t seen Erik shed tears since the evening of your confession, and you could only surmise that all the trepidation and unease had finally reached a breaking point and crumbled along with his composure. It deeply saddened you to know the man you loved so intensely hated himself and had been hated so harshly by those around him. You vowed to never cause him pain like everybody else had as long as you both lived.

Eventually, he withdrew from you, gracefully settling on his knees, his hands still shielding his face from your view, protecting his vulnerability. He wiped away the glistening tears that adorned his cheeks, his other hand instinctively seeking to conceal himself from your gaze. A pensive frown graced your mouth as you hesitantly reached upward, your fingers yearning to grasp his trembling hands, only to recoil as he instinctively recoiled in response to your advance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve seen it all now, haven’t I?” you hushed, hands dropping from his hands but instead reaching up to smooth back his hair with your fingers.

He sniffled quietly, “Forgive me, I did not intend on frightening you. I am simply unused to showing my bare face around others, it’s unfamiliar.”

“Of course, I understand, love,” you smiled, gently trailing your hand down the side of his face. Goosebumps littered his skin like a trail.

You moved closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. You kept one hand on his face, basking in the warmth of his skin that didn't have any disfigurement. Your other hand gently draped over his shoulder as you approached, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his back. He quivered beneath your touch, his legs extending out from under him to create a space for you to come impossibly closer. As you lowered yourself onto his lap, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins. His breath, warm and intoxicating, caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands trembled with uncertainty, itching to remove themselves from his face to come down and touch you instead. You chuckled.

“You can hold me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind filled with a whirlwind of desires as he absorbed the words that flowed from your enchanting lips. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, savouring the profound effect you had on the man beneath you.

“I’d like to put on my mask, dear,” Erik finally spoke, “As much as I love having you so close, I’m not ready to show myself to you so unashamedly yet.”

With a nod of your head, you stepped back, allowing him the space he needed to shroud his face from view. Though you comprehended the internal struggle he faced after years of hiding, a bittersweet pang of sadness tugged at the depths of your heart. The poignant reality that he still felt the need to shield himself wounded you deeply. But you tried to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t personal.

He swiftly and efficiently retied the strings, maintaining his determination, as he stood up following you. You leaned in and planted a brief but meaningful kiss on his lips, savoring the moment before reluctantly breaking away. With a mix of emotions swirling inside, you diverted your attention, attempting to shift your focus away from the recent event that had transpired.

“I’ll be out dusting the statues, you haven’t kept up with them in a while and I’d noticed them on the way in and I think they could really use a clean. I’ll speak to you later.” You quickly retreated from the room without even sparing a second glance.

Erik stood there, mouth agape, unable to comprehend the suddenness of your departure. His mind was flooded with a multitude of questions, doubts, and confusion, hindering his ability to think clearly. As he glanced around the room, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over him, as he tried to process the intensity of the moment and the speed at which you had vanished from his presence. Meanwhile, his body felt an uncomfortable strain, as his arousal pressed insistently against the constricting fabric of his trousers, adding yet another layer of complexity to his already tumultuous thoughts.

You were no less aroused, the tingling sensation in your nether regions proving that you had been mutually affected by your lover. Oh lord, this was going to cause problems.

[maychorian]

Dungeon Meshi has fully consumed me, especially a certain tiny union man, and I want to ramble about Chilchuck's traumatic backstory for a bit. Mild manga spoilers under the cut.

The first time I read the manga I missed this bit, since I was reading an online version that didn't have all the extras included. Since I've come across this litte omake, though, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It just explains so much about why Chilchuck is the way he is.

First, at a surface level, it's interesting that this backstory only comes out in the framework of talking about a monster. Chilchuck is offering basically an anecdote about succubi, adding to the conversation he and his party are having about a monster species. It's all very casual and offhand. No one even remarks on what that experience would have meant to Chilchuck on a personal level, and he doesn't dwell on it, either. You have to wonder if Chilchuck would have ever mentioned it at all if they weren't specifically talking about succubi.

But holy heck, just think about this for a moment. On one of Chilchuck's first outings as an adventurer, possibly the first time he joined a party, his fellow adventurers were planning to feed him to a monster. He's only alive now because he had the instinct that something was wrong and had the speed, wisdom, and stealth to run away. He could have died. He could have been murdered. And it's implied that this happens to half-foots frequently in this world.

How traumatizing would that have been for a young adventurer? The people he should have been able to trust to have his back were literally planning his death, all for monetary gain. He was treated as disposable, a resource to be exploited, not a person. Not only is there the trauma of narrowly escaping death here, there's also the trauma of being mistreated and abused by other thinking, intelligent beings.

No freaking wonder he has trust issues. He's been working with Laios and his party for three years at this point and he's never shared a single solitary personal detail about his life, not even his age. He can't bear to allow any vulnerability to show, because he can't allow himself to be taken advantage of again. No wonder he's so prickly and wary. No wonder he's so sensitive to being viewed as anything other than a capable, skilled, fully realized and autonomous adult. No wonder he shies away from affection and any hint of closeness, especially in the early chapters of the manga.

I'm amazed that Chilchuck had the strength and fortitude to stay in the business at all. He considered his options and took steps to keep himself safe, including only accepting pay in advance and starting a union to protect himself and other half-foots. (Another tidbit you don't get at first in the story--Chilchuck is not just a member of a union or the leader, he started the whole dang thing to begin with.)

But what's so lovely, and wonderful, what makes this story take over my brain so completely and utterly, is that Chilchuck doesn't stay this way. Over the course of the manga, he opens up more and more. He allows himself to be emotionally vulnerable; he shares more and more details of his life. He treats Marcille and Izutsumi like daughters, Laios and Senshi like brothers. He loves them and allows himself to be loved in return.

And that's one of many reasons that Dungeon Meshi is one of the best found-family stories I've come across in a long, long time.

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~*

A/N: This was a funny idea I had and Now I'm gonna do another series with my Yuu OC. Note that I write most of the cast in a platonic sense with my OC because that's how their story formed. I'm fully open to doing requests with characters in a romantic sense. Word Count: 4.7K Warnings: Period mentions, allusions to sexual assault (They are assumed, nothing actually happens), She/They OC Pronouns Pairings: Azul/Reader (Poly), Jamil/Reader (Poly) Enjoy! Start (Here), Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt2), Part 6 (Pomefiore), Part 7 (Scarabia)

Yuu was forgetting something, she knew she was. But sitting in her pjs on a Saturday morning, an over-filled bowl of sugary cereal in hand, she couldn't be bothered to really care.

It was shaping up to be a good day too. None of the staff needed her help with anything, her friends all had their club meetings, and the kitchen was stocked with easy-to-grab snacks for Grim. the cat monster himself had even started his homework on Friday night with minimal fighting. Literally, nothing could be wrong, but she still felt uneasy. They woke up feeling weary and oddly bloated.

With an inquisitive expression, she taps her spoon against her bowl. They really hoped they weren't going to spend all day in a strange sense of deja vu…

Then she sneezed and everything made sense. Yuu blinks, moving back to pull the seam of their pj pants, looking down as they groan, "Ah, shit…"

Azul loved Saturdays, they were his biggest money-maker days. Students came to the Mostro Lounge either to get a head start on homework, grab a drink after practice or clubs, or merely have a freshly cooked meal. It also was the day he had most of his workforce available so he could spare the time to walk around campus or catch up on his own paperwork.

But, what he's trying to do was gather his courage and think up a plausible enough reason for him to go visit his date-mate. Not that he usually needed one, they were very vocal about how he was always a welcomed presence in their company.

But, Yuu had been…easily irked? Prickly? Upset. Yuu had been upset for most of the week but anyone who questioned their mood was quickly shot down. The prefect would then tensely state they weren’t mad and then questioned why people thought they were mad. Sure they had a very intense resting bitch face but who didn't at Night Raven? (He's fairly certain you needed to either be handsome or have the most terrifying resting bitch face to be admitted to this school).

So he wasn't too pressed about his date-mate's mood until Floyd said something. He had come into the back office pouting of all things, saying 'Shrimpy smelled off'. They had also punched him when the eel merman attempted to pick them up, which wasn't normal.

Jade handled his twin, trying to cull Floyd’s decreasing mood, while Azul opened a few text chats to ask if anyone had caused Yuu reason to want to kill someone. The genuine confusion and concern that answered back only made him more uneasy.

Now, on a sunny Saturday, Azul made the long journey toward Ramshackle. With an obscure board game tucked under his arm and a bag of exclusive gummy candy in hand, he was on a mission to improve his dear pearl’s mood.

Or he was until he was suddenly being dragged down the dirt road in a different direction. He yelped and shouted, trying to angle himself to see what was pulling him through the mud and sticks. The answer was Sam’s shadows, the black willowy wisps quickly yanking him into the shop and setting him on his feet. Azul looks down at his outfit, scowling at seeing the dirt and grass stains. Sevens, did he rip his slacks?

“Lil fish.”

Azul jolts, eyes wide and semi-fearful at Sam’s echoing tone. The man stood behind the counter, a number of medical supplies laying across the surface as his nails gripped at the wood. Sam’s eyes were wide, pupils pinprick as his amethyst orbs almost glowed under all the shadows. Speaking of shadows…Azul looks around the shop, feeling actual fear stir in him. The shadows were everywhere, zipping through the aisles, slithering in and out of the back room, and some were even racing out of the shop, “Uh…Yes, Sam? H-how can I be of assistance?” He didn’t stutter, he refuses to admit he stuttered.

“Do you know what a pad is?”

…

“Like…Like a notepad or-”

“NO!” Sam slams his fist onto the counter, the lights of the near-endless shop flickering wildly at the force of it. He rests his face in his hands, paying no mind to his makeup and hat that fell to the counter. Looking up, his intense stare was replaced with one of desperation, “You’re killing me here, kid. Look, if you know what a damn pad is, just tell me where to get one! I know you and the lil pup talk!”

“I swear, I have no clue what you’re talking about, sir.” Sevens, had Azul ever felt scared of Sam? He didn’t like this, why was his fellow businessman so frazzled? What kind of pad was he talking about? Why couldn’t he find it and assumed Azul would know where and what the damn thing was?

Sam groans, hands running furiously through purple-tinted lock braids. With a snap of his fingers, the wisps all stop. Either quickly entering the shop or bleeding into the shadows to hide once more, “Look just…Go see the prefect. They called me asking for sanitation pads? That’s the business name they told me anyway…That and just…a lot of pain potions.”

Azul clicked out of his confusion, growing nervous at the potions request, “I…wait are they hurt? Shouldn’t they be in the infirmary?”

“I suggested that, but they insisted they didn’t need to go, just the potions. I’m sending them over soon, Crewel is due to deliver my order in an hour or two. I’ll send him over after ya once he gets here.” Sam grumbles under his breath as Azul rushes out of the store. ‘Primadonna dog hates when I call him while he’s brewing…’

Azul pulls his phone from his pocket, sending a text to both Jade and Floyd. Yuu was in pain, they had requested something called a ‘sanitation pad’? Whatever those were. By the name he could only guess they were used for cleaning of some kind. He sent the twins a message to meet him at Ramshackle ASAP, potentially 119 status. Yuu had always joked about the Octavinelle trio being the first ones they’d call if they needed to hide a body. But, it seemed when it came time for them to actually make the call, the poor thing must have been overwhelmed. He could only think they had done it in self-defense, but the cause didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a body in a few hours.

Halfway through the woods to Ramshackle, he hears other footsteps hurrying to catch him. Looking over his shoulder, he raises an eyebrow at the extra amount of people, “Why are they here?”

Ace, Deuce, and Jamil all kept a quick jog behind Floyd and Jade’s long-legged walk. Floyd rolled his eyes, pointing behind him with his thumb, “I was at practice. Crabby and Sea Snake saw the text and wanna help lil Shrimpy too…”

Deuce raises a hand, "I saw them leaving the gym on my way to track practice. Yuu's my classmate and friend, it's only right I help them."

Jamil hisses under his breath, side-eyeing Azul as he sped up to walk beside him, “Plus, they’re my date-mate too, asshole…”

Rolling his eyes, Azul sighed, waving Jamil’s attitude off, “Yes, yes. We can meet with Draconia later about our timeshare lover's crimes. But for now, we need to go and assist them with the dead body I’m sure is on their property.”

Ace sighs, relaxing more as he leans back, arms folding behind his head, “Yuu finally did it, huh?”

“I mean…They can only threaten to murder someone so many times before they’d snap…” Deuce pipes up, rubbing the back of his head, almost dreading getting blood on his uniform again.

Floyd giggled, “I can’t wait to see who Shrimpy squeezed~. I bet they made it real messy!”

“Hmm…I wouldn’t put it past Yuu to kill someone via strangulation. But their MO seems to lean more toward bludgeoning.” Jade smiles to the group, eyes closing in barely hidden glee, “If anything clean up will at least be interesting if we’re just dealing with some blood splatter and a puddle!”

 Ace and Deuce wince, watching Floyd, Azul, and Jamil simply nod at Jade’s examination.

The mood was instantly broken once they came into view of Ramshakle. Floyd and Jade tensed, their smiles dropping off their faces before racing toward the dorm as two teal-colored blurs. Azul shouted, only to choke on his tongue at the smell. Blood. His nose wasn’t anywhere as sensitive as Floyd's or Jade’s but even at this distance, he could smell the sharp iron smell. He jogged to catch up with his dormmates, his expression of panic causing the other three to speed up as well.

All he could smell was Yuu’s blood. Sharp and salty, but spiced and sweet because of their diet. A hint of some type of alien fragrance that no one could place and Yuu couldn’t name mixing it all together perfectly. And that was all he was smelling, not even a hint of another person’s blood.

When the rest of the group had made it to the front porch, Floyd was pounding on the door, eyebrows creased while Jade searched the bushes for the hidden key, “Shrimpy! Open up! Shrimpy!”

Jade’s fingers had just grazed the false rock when the door’s locks clicked open. Floyd swung the door so hard it nearly sent Grim into the hallway wall. The feline monster kept to the ground, eyes wide and teary with fear, “Yuu’s bleeding all over everything and they won’t tell me why!”

Deuce was the only one who had the mindset to scoop Grim into his arms, the rest of them instantly rushing up the stairs toward Yuu’s bedroom. The sound of their footsteps pounding on the floor echoing in the house, each of them calling out in panicked voices. Azul could only grow increasingly worried, the scent of blood growing stronger and stronger.

Jade slams the door open, Ace instantly diving into the bed and startling Yuu awake.

“The-The fuck- hello?”

Ace cupped their face, using what medical lessons Riddle had drilled into his head to see if they had a visible injury, “Yuu! Can you hear me? We were calling you all the way downstairs- Ay!” He tumbles off the bed when Yuu shoves him aside, dark eyes glaring down at the redhead.

“Yeah, I was sleeping. Why are all of you in my house?”

“We smelled blood shrimpy!” Floyd kneeled onto the bed, sniffing around trying to find the main source of blood. Ignoring or nipping at Yuu’s hands trying to shove his face away from her body.

Azul stepped forward, eyes roaming in barely concealed haste, “Sam sent me over. He was worried by a request you had called him about? It’s sent him positively spiraling.”

Yuu raises an eyebrow, having given up on getting Floyd off their bed and wrapping an arm around him instead, “Yeah I was about to ask. Octobaby, what truck did you get dragged behind and did you at least get the license plate?”

Whatever positive flow of atmosphere that was building ended, Floyd grasping the duvet covering them and pulling, “Shrimpy, where are you bleeding-”

A single tug was all it took for Yuu’s bottom half to be flashed. They all look in stunned silence. Fresh red blood on a series of towels under them, a smear on the inside of their bare legs. Yuu shouts but none of them respond, minds spiraling at what could have possibly happened.

“Floyd! By the Seven, I’m not wearing any pants!” Yuu snatches the blanket back, draping it over their legs with a huff. They turn to Floyd only to have their face gripped harshly. Floyd stared at them with a dead expression, his single golden eye almost glowing with the force of his anger, “Floyd?”

“Who?”

“Wha-”

“Who?”

“Floyd.” Jade’s hands come into view, pulling Floyd’s grip off of their face and his brother off the bed. Jade was no better, a pleasant smile on his face but eyes wide and void of any emotion, “It’ll do no good to pressure them into telling us. Let us let our two professionals deal with this. The two of us can brainstorm methods of...disposing of the unsavory culprit once we have a name or description.”

Yuu watched them slowly leave the room. Floyd just barely letting Jade pull him along as his expression started to finally morph into a look of anger. His fists clenched as he gritted his teeth, body so tense his movements were more shaky than his normal loose glide.

Looking beside them, Yuu catches eyes with Ace and Deuce. Ace quickly turned away, a hand covering his mouth as a single tear slid down his cheek and his shoulders shook. Deuce was no better, gripping Grim in his arms as he hiccuped softly with just barely contained sobs. He looked like he was fighting back the urge to go into 'delinquent mode'.

Jamil finally moves, a hand on each of Ace's and Deuce's shoulders, guiding them to the door. Softly pushing them out too once Jade had managed to pull Floyd out of the room, “Let us talk to them…We’ll…we’re gonna figure this out…”

Yuu watches stunned as Azul walks toward them as though he was approaching a wounded animal; softly, with just a hint of fear and pity, “Azul…What’s-?”

“It’s ok.” Jamil closed the door, still facing it so Yuu wasn’t sure if he was saying it to them or mumbling to himself, “It's…It’s ok, you’re gonna be fine…”

Azul had finally reached them and they could clearly see the unshed tears in his eyes, “It’s not your fault. This is not your fault, do you hear me?” He ran his fingers through their hair, his other hand gently cupping against her cheek as his thumb shakingly caressed their skin. He opens his mouth, closing his eyes while he sighs a shuddering sob. Gathering his wits again he opens his eyes, a fiery determination glowing in them, “We’re here for you, my pearl.”

“Wha…?” Yuu could only wrap their arms around Azul, the merman diving to embrace her in what had to be the most protective hold he could do with just his two arms. It felt safe and sturdy, like a cool blanket was wrapped around their body. While it was welcomed, Yuu only grew more confused feeling a wet spot start to form on their shoulder where Azul’s face had snuggled into, “I’m…very confused…”

“Yuu.”

If Azul wasn’t holding them, they would have jumped off the bed. Jamil stood right next to them with a blank expression. His face pulled into a mask of neutrality, but his eyes were steely, an ice-cold fire in them waiting to find a victim.

“Who. You can tell me, you can trust me. We’ll handle everything, you won't even have to look at the bastard unless you want to beat him to death yourself.” He kneels on the bed, his hand moving to touch her covered thigh before retreating, a pinched expression breaking his mask before it was back in place, “You have to tell us who did this to you, hayati.”

Did what to them?

Yuu stared at Jamil, blinking when he finally had to look away to bite his lip. He looked to be holding back tears, fully turning around to put his face in his hands to mutter under his breath. ‘How could he let this happen? Why couldn’t he have just one thing with nothing to ruin it?’ a teary sob of ‘Do they not trust him?’

“My pearl?” Azul pulls his face away from their shoulder, sniffling before he removes his glasses briefly to wipe his tears, “Do you…Would you like me to draw you a bath? This can’t be comfortable-”

“Azul!” Jamil whipped around, glaring at the merman, sparing them a worried glance before turning back to Azul and whispering heatedly, “They can’t take a bath until they get checked, you moron!”

“What’s there to check Jamil!? We can all clearly see what happened! Why put them through the extra…extra poking and defilement when we know what happened!?”

“Because we need evidence!”

“What we need is a name! Or a description! I’m not even going to entertain the idea of bringing this to a court. We have plenty of manpower on campus to bury whoever did this 12 times over.”

“Excuse me, what the fuck are you guys talking about?” Yuu spoke up, eyes glancing between the two of them, “Because if you mean the bleeding, that’s pretty standard at this point.” Maybe they just…forgot they had a vagina? Boys normally didn’t react well to period talk in the first place, but this was an all-boy school and Yuu was more non-gendered than female-gendered. Maybe they just honestly forgot.

But, what they said had only made things worse, both Azul and Jamil looking at them in absolute horror. Standard. This was normal. This had happened multiple times already.

Azul starts to openly sob, wrapping himself around them in a way to keep everything else away, nuzzling his head into her neck and whimpering out apologies. Jamil covered his mouth, a look that Yuu could only call devastation on his face before he stood from the bed to pace the room. Mutters grew in volume and speed before Yuu finally realized what they thought had happened.

“Oh. OH!” They quickly pull Azul from their neck, hands pressed to both his cheeks to keep him looking into their eyes, “Sevens! Guys no! That isn’t what this is, I promise! No one hurt me like that!”

“You expect us to believe that!?” Jamil turns on them, eyes wild and red with held-back tears. He gestures to the bed, alluding to the mess of blood under the covers, “What else could this possibly be!? Why are you trying to defend them!?”

“Jamil, I’m on my period!” Yuu looked back at Azul once her words seemed to hit Jamil, “It’s just my period. No one hurt me. I’m…well, not fine. Periods are a bitch. But not that…I swear it wasn’t that.”

No one made a sound past Azul’s labored breathing, the merman’s expression slowly morphing from one of despair into confusion. Once his breathing was finally under control, he pulled Yuu’s hands from his face, a single brow raised, “Your…your period?”

“Yeah…It’s just my period.”

Jamil pulls a face, eyes looking down as his brain worked to understand what Yuu was saying, “...Like the punctuation?”

Yuu frowned, turning to Jamil, “Don’t you act fucking dumb with me.” They press a kiss to Azul’s forehead, letting him slump against their chest, not seeing the gears turning in his head, “You and your sister are basically the same petty soul shared between two bodies. You know what a period is Jamil.”

The two mages catch eyes across the room, both…so painfully confused. Azul takes his time to finally untangle from Yuu, giving a small smile and patting hesitantly at the blanket, “O-okay…A period…right?”

At Yuu’s annoyed nod, Jamil sniffs, checking that he hadn’t cried before looking over to the door, “And…Najma will know. You’re sure she will?”

“I mean basically every girl gets a period so I would think so Jamil…”

The two boys share another look, communicating in a way Yuu hadn’t learned to do with them yet before they turn back to them with those soft, weak smiles. Azul caresses their face again, saying they should go back to sleep and that someone will bring up something to eat later on. It was slow, they clearly didn’t want to leave, but they both closed the door behind them. They share another look in the hallway, nodding before moving to regroup with the others.

The contained chaos they walk in on was almost comical if the reason wasn’t so mortifying. Jade had a hand gripped on each of Floyd’s shoulders while they took up the loveseat, whispering to the taller eel as he held him back. The whispers growing in intensity as his eyes widened in manic glee every time Floyd growled and moved to pull out of his brother’s hold. Ace was leaning against the wall, anger clear on his face as his nails bit into his forearms. He was the only one who looked up when they walked into the room. Deuce sat on the couch, curled around who they could only think was Grim, his shoulders shaking with barely contained cries.

Ace speaks up first, calling everyone else’s attention to their entry, “Well? Who’s the bastard we’re hunting down?”

Jamil and Azul pause, Jamil looking to the side and sighing, “They say nothing happened-”

“They’re lying!” Grim cries from Deuce’s arms. 

The spade Heartslabyul soldier sniffles, raising his head to look from over the couch, “Grim said they’ve been bleeding since this morning. From before he woke up…”

Jamil pulled out his phone, already dialing his sister, “They said Najma would know what’s going on…They were…so sure nothing…happened…”

Ace opened his mouth to yell only to be cut off at the sound of Najma picking up the line on speakerphone.

“Jamil? What’s wrong, you never call me?”

“...” Jamil gulped, gripping his phone before speaking, “Najma, I need you to be completely honest with me. Swear on your life levels of seriousness. Do you know what a period is?”

“...Like the punctuation?”

Azul bit his lip, a hand moving to cover his mouth and start to pace around the room. He walks closer to Jade and Floyd to explain, the two eels listening to his quick words in clear confusion.

“I…Najma, something happened. Is it…normal to…” He let out another sigh, almost wishing it would take his soul with it, “Is it normal to bleed…out of your vagina?”

The beat of silence almost gave Jamil hope. Maybe it was some super secret girl thing that no male was allowed to ever know about. Maybe everyone in the room would have to be killed once Najma confirmed its existence. He knows he would at least prefer that over the alternative.

“Jamil, what the fuck? No!? No, that's not normal!? Jamil who do you know that’s bleeding out of their-”

“Don’t have time, I’ll call you back once this is all settled.” He’s never hung a phone up so fast. It quickly rings again, but he just declines Najma’s call and silences his phone. Now looking around, everyone else in the room is just as confused if not more so than he and Azul were.

“...What?” Jade tilts his head to the same degree his brother does while they both study Jamil, each trying to find…something in the conversation they just heard.

Azul spoke up, leaning his elbow against the fireplace, a hand coming up to rub at his temple, “They said they were simply on their period and that this was normal. They were also very certain Najma would confirm this sentiment, claiming it was a natural thing girls did.”

Deuce sat in thought, his brain working overtime to try and piece together the information they had, “Maybe…Uh…Wait, I can ask my mom!”

“What is your mom gonna know, Deuce!?” Ace hissed, more frustrated than actually angry.

“I don’t know, she’s like...an older girl? Maybe she knows more about it than Najma would?”

“...” Jade looks toward Azul with a shrug, “It’s another source of information. We’re literally going in blind with this.” He looks down in worry, feeling Floyd relax in his arms. His brother wasn’t calm by any means, more so his mood had finally reached so low that his homicidal urges couldn’t properly latch onto it. He just kept Floyd in his arms, holding his taller brother under his arms as though he was a cat.

Deuce pulls out his phone with one hand, the other keeping a grip on Grim as the monster whines. It only took a very rings before the phone was answered again.

“Hi, Deuce! I was just about to send you a text. I found this new cafe and they make the cutest parfaits-”

“Mom, that’s cool. Send me a picture later but. Um…I got a really weird and private question to ask you-”

“Deuce, we talked about this sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with liking certain things-”

“NOT THAT, NOT THAT!” He blushes, quickly cupping his phone away from view of the others. He whispers his question into the receiver, waiting with bated breath when the other line was quiet.

“Sweetie. Am I on speaker?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“That isn’t…that isn’t something that should be happening. Is this…Deuce, is this about your friend Yuu?” At the affirmative, she continued, “I know you said they weren’t from around…anywhere really. But you boys need to tell your teachers about this. Whoever told them this was normal lied to them.”

The nervousness returns, everyone sharing a look, Deuce thanking his mom before hanging up the phone. Pass the stray sigh or muffled rambles no one spoke, each one of them was scared to voice their theories. Everything easily pointed toward…assault. But Yuu was such a level of certain that it was hard to deny the doubt that grew at the idea. There were magical ways of getting the truth out of people, they had Jade and Jamil, so it wouldn't be hard. But none of them wanted to break the trust Yuu had given to them. Not to mention the small chance that something did happen, and forcing Yuu to recount the horrible situation was cruel even by Night Raven standards if they were trying to actively suppress it. 

It seemed like they sat in silence for hours before they all heard the front door slam open, footsteps quickly stepping through the hall before a signature black and white coat filled the doorway. Crewel stood with one hand on his hip, the other impatiently tapping his crop against his leg.

“Ok, what’s going on? I’ve had students running around terrified from Sam’s shadows. I go to see Sam to ask about it and he informs me that he sent you runts to check on my puppy.” Crewel looks around the room, his frown turning into a scowl before he schools his expression again, “And there's no sign of my puppy in this pack of dogs, so what’s happened?”

After a prolonged silence, Ace groaned, deciding to bite the bullet since no one else wanted to, “Yuu’s bleeding from…from their vag and won't tell us why.”

…

“...” Crewel stepped to the side, light gray eyes seeming to look past all of them while he used his crop to point down the hall, “Get out.”

“Sensei-”

“Get. Out.”

The scramble they did out of the room was like a pack of dogs released into the wild, each of them refusing to meet the glacier-level stare of their teacher as they ran past. They didn’t leave Ramshackle property, choosing to instead stand outside and wait to be fully dismissed.

Crewel took the stairs two at a time, flinging Yuu’s bedroom door open. The sound of it slamming into the wall made Yuu groan in protest. He walks to the bed and sits, a hand instantly brushing their bangs back to alert them to his presence. He couldn't tell through his gloves, but they had seemed flushed, “Puppy? Puppy, talk to me. What's happening? I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Yuu hums, just barely getting back to sleep before Crewel woke them up again. A hand pressed to their lower stomach and grumbled, “Hmmmm….Period…” “...Pup. What’s a period, explain it to me.” He keeps his hand in their hair, petting in a way to soothe both of them if needed. Period, Yuu clearly wasn’t talking about punctuation. All his mind could reach then was that period was speaking of a state of time. Meaning this was something that happened on some type of schedule.

Groaning, Yuu sits up, letting her head rest against Crewel’s shoulder, “Period, monthly bleed and all that. It’s girl stuff, you know biology, Crewel…”

Taking her in his arms, Crewel rubs at their back. Monthly…It’s at times Crewel is made painfully aware of how lacking he and the rest of Night Raven College were in knowledge about Yuu’s biology. “Yuu…That’s not a thing in Twisted Wonderland.” He can feel the moment they tense up, letting them pull back to look at him.

Yuu stares at their pseudo-father, eyes searching for some sign of the past hour being nothing but a really bad joke. Seeing none, they feel a cold realization hit, “Oh…Well, this is gonna be a real interesting time…”

[euovennia]

I am yet again requesting headcanons for the 141 (or whoever you want <3) with a reader who has an angry resting face. And to add onto that, they are very expressive with their love but it comes off as aggressive (not on purpose) because they always look, you know, mad. Like when reader says "I love you," it sounds like a threat and really, they look like they wanna kill them, but they don’t.

whew, i'm so sorry for the wait on this! i took a small break from tumblr so i could focus on finishing some assignments i had for my classes, but they're all completed and turned in so i should be good for now! also i wasn't 100% sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, so i tried to write it to where it could be interpreted as both. thank you for requesting and, as always, i hope you enjoy :)

warnings: none other than the fact that i don't know how to stop myself from typing more than i need to

summary: the 141 learns to adjust to life with their newest recruit; you.

john 'soap' mactavish

when price first introduces you to the group, he can't help but feel like he's done something wrong

and honestly no one can really blame him for feeling that way

the expression that paints your face when you make eye contact with him practically screams, "sleep with one eye open"

and while it is mildly terrifying, he only sees it as a challenge

because in his mind, if he can get the mighty ghost to warm up to him, he can get anyone to warm up to him

so as soon as price cuts you loose from the brief introductions, he's already right by your side pestering you with various questions

and while it was a bit off-putting, you weren't really surprised because price had already told you all about soap before he decided he wanted you on his team

so you just kinda stood there and let him fire off his questions while answering them with that angry expression and bored monotone voice that he can't help but love

like you're standing there, arms crossed with perhaps one of the most pissed off expressions he's ever seen in his life but all his mind can think is >:(

needless to say, he doesn't take your prickly exterior too seriously and it's because of this he's able to get closer to you a lot quicker than the other members do

and it's because of this he tends to vouch for you a lot more to the other members when it comes to getting to know you

"they're not that bad, i swear!"

"johnny, they look like they wanna rip your arm off every time you're near them."

"but they don't, that's the funny part!"

best believe this man is fighting for his life whenever your rbf gets brought into the conversation

and i imagine that one day you actually manage to overhear one of these little debates/conversations (tbh they could go either way with how divided they can be over it, especially when it's gaz vs soap)

and you can't just ignore the way your heart warms as you hear soap valiantly defend your honor

it's one of the few times you're genuinely thankful for his big mouth

after listening in to the conversation for a few more minutes you eventually decide to walk away, heart full and the smallest of smiles pulling at the edge of your lips

i think it goes without saying that you go a little sweet on him after that encounter

well

as sweet as you can go when you're the human embodiment of >:(

at least in the opinion of soap

you don't really see the resemblance tbh

anyway

you start doing little things for him

things like offering to take watch for him when you're both on a mission because you noticed that he hadn't really bothered getting any rest

sitting by his side and letting him ramble on about his family, especially how he always begged his parents to let him stay with his nan over the summer because she owned a little family farm that he absolutely loved to run around on

and even the time you learned how to make scotch pie using his mom's recipe he had tucked away in his room

no matter how much he may deny it, that last one had him tearing up as soon as he took a bite

but honestly, can you blame him?

the man barely gets to visit his parents back home because of his work and it crushes him

honestly, it was probably one of the first few things he confided in you when you first started talking

so naturally when price announces that the 141 has been approved for a two week leave, you don't hesitate in logging onto the computer and buying him the first tickets back to scotland

what you do hesitate with is actually giving them to him

so you decide to gloss over that part completely and instead opt for shoving the tickets inside an plain envelope with his name scribbled on the front and a small note that simply reads, "go." before sliding it under his door the night before everyone is scheduled to depart from base

the moment soap gets his hands on those tickets he can't help the way he runs through the halls and bursts into your room to give you the biggest hug you've ever had in your life

unfortunately for you both, you'd already left base by the time he discovered the tickets

and so with a heavy heart, soap makes his way back to his room before packing his bags with a new vigor

the plane leaves in six hours, but he's so excited he can't help but want to arrive early

needless to say those are probably the best two weeks of his life

and while the others are interested in hearing all about his trip, he simply brushes them off in favor watching the door so he can be there for the exact moment you walk in

and after making him wait more than what he felt was necessary, you finally walk in

and this man

the way he shoots up from his seat and runs over to hug you

it's almost enough to send you both flying to the ground

but luckily you've got some stellar balance and manage to save yourselves from being teased by the rest of the team

but with the way soap is squeezing onto you while repeatedly whispering, "thank you," into the nape of your neck, you don't doubt they'll make fun of you for that

even with the mild embarrassment you feel, you simply wrap your arms around the scottish man and offer him a few pats on the back

and as sweet as it is for the other men to witness such a tender scene, they can't help but notice how upset you look

it's almost laughable

and as much as they want to step in and tell soap to back off, they can't help but notice the way you cling onto soap with that soft look in your eyes

so they remain quiet as you and soap hang onto each other, hearts full of warmth

kyle 'gaz' garrick

i'm gonna say it now

out of anyone in the 141, he was probably the one most intimidated by you

he's the youngest out of everyone and so it stands that, naturally, he has less experience than others

it's for this reason i think he's so keen on staying close to price

i mean the man practically plucked him off the streets and said, "you're mine now," so i think it's reasonable that gaz grows a tad more attached to price than the other members

so when he catches a few glimpses of you around base barking orders at the recruits and slamming them into the mats during sparring sessions, he's not exactly dying to meet you

even so, he finds he's not too worried about the possibility

with how often the 141 departs base to go on various missions and how you always seem to be too caught up in whatever you're doing at the time to be bothered to even glance his way, he eventually comes to the conclusion that you'll never meet

until one day price strolls into the common area where he and the rest of the team are minding their own business with you trailing right beside him looking aggravated as ever

he's already a bit uneasy with the fact you now know where the team goes to relax, but that unease slowly shifts to downright horror when price reveals that you're the newest member of the team

now gaz is usually a pretty easygoing and friendly guy so any chance to meet and bond with new people is always bound to be a good time in his book

but he can't help the shiver that crawls up his spine whenever you're around

seriously, who or what made you look so pissed off all the time?

anyway

because he's so hesitant of being around you, he tries his hardest not to bother you

which basically means he tries not to be in the same room as you

and while you may not really notice or care, the rest of the team certainly does

especially price

he's the type of man who prides himself on having a team that knows they can all rely on one another on and off the field and so he'll be damned if you and gaz are the ones to ruin his little streak

so guess who gets assigned to accompany you and the recruits on your morning workouts from now on?

gaz!

and while he's not necessarily thrilled about the idea of being forced into such close proximity to you, especially first thing in the morning, he respects price enough to not question his decision and just ends up going along with it

and at first he doesn't really pay you much attention in an effort to not do anything to accidentally make you even more upset than he already assumes you are

but then he starts to notice something

he notices the way the recruits light up whenever they see you, whether it be during the morning workout sessions or when you're walking around base

and it baffles him because you just look so upset, he can't possibly imagine why they're all so keen on sending you wide smiles or enthusiastic waves

but one day he looks just a little bit closer and he can see the faintest hint of amusement on your face as your lips showcase the ghost of a smile

that's when he really starts to pay attention

and suddenly he can't help but feel a little ashamed of himself

because now he can practically feel his heart melt every time you interact with the recruits

like how you would bring extra ice-cold water bottles to the morning workouts for the recruits who'd forget to bring their own

or the way you wouldn't hesitate to slide them some money if they mentioned being hungry while you were around

and especially how you don't hesitate to lend an ear for them if they seemed to be troubled by something

it's in those few little moments that he can see just the tiniest cracks through your annoyed expression and heated glares

you're not angry at all, he decides, just real shit at expressing yourself

and upon deciding this, he realizes you're not so scary anymore

so now instead of avoiding you like the plague, he actively seeks you out

at first it's to help you out with carrying the extra water bottles for the recruits in the morning and planning the workouts for the week

but then it turns into him asking to sit with you at the mess hall over dinner and keeping each other company in the commons area

and as much as he tries not to, he can't help the giddiness that floods his body when you start to show him that aggressive love he sees you dish out to the recruits

shoving snacks into his hands when you notice he hasn't eaten in a while

quietly sitting with him while he goes through paperwork because you both know he has a tendency to get distracted

and his personal favorite, draping your jacket over him when you walk in on him sleeping anywhere that isn't his room

he always wakes up with a smile tugging on his lips

and despite how cold and distant you may look while doing these things, he doesn't give it much attention anymore

not when he can see the love and care that's reflected in your eyes

simon 'ghost' riley

despite you and ghost having similar exteriors, it becomes more and more apparent to gaz and soap that you're actually quite different

which isn't a bad thing, of course! just a bit unexpected

but it's because of this striking difference that you and simon tend to keep a majority of your interactions on the field

and you both are more than happy to keep it this way

gaz and soap however, are not

so naturally they put together a plan; a plan that consists of soap giving you his most treasured tactical pen so you can use it to write away in that little journal of yours on the ride back from missions just so he can later "confront" ghost and admonish him for stealing said pen

and during all this, gaz simply remains on the sidelines just looking pretty

anyway

after laying into simon for a good ten minutes, soap walks away from the encounter with a small smile before walking up to gaz and saying something like, "now we wait"

and they do wait

patiently

but after a full two weeks pass by and neither gaz or soap can find any evidence of their so called "master plan" working, they can't help but feel a little discouraged

unbeknownst to them, it totally worked

just not in the way they envisioned

you see, by the time soap came up to simon to lecture him about stealing his pen, ghost had already come to notice you scribbling into your notebook with it

so once soap had finally decided to leave him alone, he immediately confronted you about framing him for such a crime

but you just kinda stare up at him with that annoyed look of yours before revealing soap had willingly given it to you

and things just kinda click into place for the two of you; soap wanted to get you talking

and while you and simon had to admit it wasn't a bad plan, you didn't want to give the scotsman the satisfaction of knowing it had actually worked

so whenever you and simon find yourselves in the company of the rest of the team, you decide to remain distant

but when it's just the two of you?

you're straight chilling

especially when you visit him in his room or vice versa

like just imagine the two of you drinking tea that simon was nice enough to make and watching war movies while bashing all the inaccuracies and bad calls the characters make

or when the two of you are out and about on base free from the prying eyes of gaz and soap because they're out doing their own thing

you and simon love finding random groups of rowdy soldiers just to intimidate them

i don't know about you, but i can definitely see simon just standing there with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed while you rest your hands on your hips with your lips pulled into a frown

price definitely gets complaints about the two of you

he does nothing about them

and for a while that's pretty much the gist of how you and simon spend your time together

but i like to imagine that after a particularly rough mission, simon would seek you out just to sit with you

and i can see him as a stress smoker so when he finally does manage to find you and take a seat beside you, you slide him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter

he doesn't ask how you know his cigarette preference, but instead gives you a small nod of approval before pulling up his mask over lips and taking a drag

and that's how you spend your night

just sitting beside each other as you watch the evening sky gradually begin to fill with stars

i think it would depend on how bad the mission went in order to determine exactly how long the two of you stay sitting under the stars, but it doesn't matter because it'll end the same way; you reaching over and giving simon's hand a quick squeeze with a small, "get some sleep, simon. you need it," before you walk away

and he finds himself confused to two reasons

reason one: why did you grab his hand why did he like it?

reason two: how can you say such sweet words but still look so mad?

as much as he wants to play that moment over in his head just to make sure he was remembering things right, he decides against it in favor of heeding your words and getting some sleep

but it's after that moment he can't help but notice how your mannerisms have changed

not only are your words of reassurance more apparent than before, he's also noticed you have a tendency to give his hand/shoulder a reassuring squeeze every now and then

he can't help the small smile that threatens to pull at his lips when you do

but he also can't help but notice how distant and reserved your face looks when you do all of these things

he doesn't really mind it though

but he eventually does bring it up to you one day

it's probably after he tells you one of his god awful dad jokes

like he'll look over at you and notice your sour expression and say something like, "don't look so pissed, they're not that bad."

and you'll respond with a tilt of your head as you tell him, "i'm not pissed. i like your jokes."

then he'll nudge your shoulder before telling you, "with that face? coulda fooled me."

and you'll roll your eyes in faux annoyance as you brush him off with a simple, "that's just my face."

and then he'll look down at you, thankful for his mask so you can't see the small smile making its way onto his face

he might even say something dumb and cheesy like, "i know. i like it."

and you give him one of your rare smiles

and i could end it there and say the two of you are bffs

or i could sprinkle in something about soap running up on the two of you chanting, "my plan worked, my plan worked!"

that's for you to decide

[grimalkinmessor]

Not to keep harping on it but Death Note has plenty of fridge horror to go along with the unintentional humor and romance.

Like,,,the ENTIRETY of Wammy's House is such a fucked up concept. An orphanage where they crank out genius kids into the world by...what? What are they doing with those kids? What do you mean one of them died in there? Wait—and the second one is a serial killer? And one joined the mafia? What—WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THOSE KIDS—

Not to mention the intricacies of L and Watari's relationship. He's seen as a butler/father figure until you find out that he's an inventor/war vet who took in an orphan with the express purpose of making him useful. No wonder Wammy's runs the way it does when the og, the man it is named after sees children as tools and means to an end. And, given that L has already made them so much money playing stocks that it doesn't even matter anymore (Mr. Builds A Skyscraper To House Five People), why is Quillish still with him? To keep an eye on him? To make sure L doesn't forget where he came from? Out of some sort of guilt for never teaching him how to take care of himself because those weren't the skills that Quillish thought it important to cultivate? Or maybe even to keep him dependent on Quillish to keep functioning properly.

And then there's the horror of L himself. Not even the implications of him, but the proof of who he is and what he can do. The thought of a man with so much money and power and influence that if he wanted to make you disappear, if he wanted to torture you or hold your loved ones hostage or kill you and everyone that's ever shaken your hand he could and no one would fucking bat an eye—that's fucking terrifying. (Where the fuck is Beyond—) And, not only does he have the power to do all that; no one would question it because he's part of Law™. His every action can be excused as being part of the Greater Good, despite the fact that L himself has admitted that everything he does is for his own benefit and/or entertainment.

Light, of course, is an obvious horror—but one of the most horrific things about him is glossed over. I'm not someone who personally believes in the Death Note's corruptive powers or aura or whatever, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the fact that, once you give up the Death Note, your memories of it are erased. All the people you've killed, all the things that you've seen, you've still seen and done all those things, you just don't remember it. There's a hole in your mind, and all that prickly, thorny mess that grew in you when you were a killer is still there, choking you—you just don't know why. Why are you so unfazed by death? Why don't you cry when your mother dies? Why are you so afraid of being something that looks like you? Will you ever be certain of anything again? Will you ever, truly, know yourself when you can't remember all the atrocities you've committed? Can you ever change and grow again if your roots are gone? Or are you stuck in stasis forever now, your mind stalling in one place in order to keep you from remembering the people you've killed?

[deathofacupid]

didn't see you there | peter parker

late christmas fic cuz why not

summary: what's a little cafe meet-cute?

the walls were coated with green, red, and white. christmas decor hung from corner to corner, draped against the walls.

there was a small christmas tree in the back, wrapped with tinsel and ribbon. small, shiny ornaments perched themselves upon the prickly branches.

holiday music rang from the speakers, and you twirled around, broom in hand. it was closing time and you were cleaning up before heading out.

"last christmas, i gave you my heart... and the very next day...

"you gave it away... this year..."

brushing pieces of trash and clumps of dirt into pile, you sang loudly, not concerned since you were the only one there.

the music was turned all they way up, and you weren't conscious of what was going on around you.

that's probably why you didn't here the chime of the doorbell, indicating that someone had entered.

at this point, you were doing less working and more... whatever was that you were doing.

"um— miss? i was just— i was popping in for a drink?"

you yelped, hopping backwards and jabbing the broom towards him. once you realized that he was not in fact a potential robber or bad guy, you lowered the weapon. weapon?

there wasn't much to work with in a cafe.

your cheeks were flaming hot, and you were just about ready to die.

the worst part?

he was 100% the cutest guy you'd ever seen. i mean, that had to make everything worse.

because now you couldn't even hit on him. poor guy probably thought you were crazy.

"...we're closed."

"oh, sorry. i didn't think you closed until 10:00. that— that's what the sign said outside, anyways."

"uh, yeah it's..."

9:51.

"oh. oh, i'm so sorry. i g-guess i lost track of time. i can take you right now, if you'd like."

strike two.

"yes, please."

you cleared your throat, face still flushed. "what can i get you... at 9:52, good sir?"

the boy (man?) cracked a grin, and your insides squeezed. he was just so damn pretty.

"one large black coffee. um, extra caffeine."

you raised an eyebrow, and he took it upon himself to further elaborate, "college student," he chucked, and that was enough for you to understand.

"well, that'll do it."

he laughed, "yep!"

"can i have a name for the order?" you didn't need it, but it was a good excuse to get his name.

"yes, yeah," then he paused, like he was trying to remember said name. "parker peter. wait, no— that's not what i meant. i-i don't know why it came out like that. peter. it's peter. parker, that's my last name... if you're wondering where that came from."

"okay... peter. cute."

you didn't ignore the blush that made it's way onto his face. maybe he didn't get flirted with often, you thought.

but then again, how could he not? peter was literally a greek god... like, what?

"so..." you started, wanting to break the silence, "what're you majoring in?"

"biotech."

"ooh, you're a science guy, huh?"

"yeah." peter was blushing again, you noted. why, though? did he think that was weird? or nerdy? well, it was nerdy, but in the best way possible.

"that's really cool!"

"you think?"

"of course!"

"um, yeah, i intern for mr. stark."

"mr. stark?" you racked your brain, trying to figure out whether or not you were supposed to know him. "...wait. oh my god, tony stark? like- like- stark industries? that tony stark?"

you were speechless. you knew that he had to be smart, considering he was in biotech. but this level? wow.

"mhm."

and, man, he seemed so modest about it.

"jeez, pete. that's insane!"

"thanks..." he glanced at your name tag, "y/n. that's a pretty name. what about you?"

"me? what about me?" you asked, banging on the side of the coffee machine. "damnit. this stupid piece of— ah-ha!" smiling as it started to work, you started filling up the large cup.

"major. wha-what are you majoring in?"

"huh— oh! i'm still in high school. i turn eighteen in a couple weeks. i'm a senior. y'know, at midtown."

peter's eyebrows shot up, "midtown?"

"hmm," you clipped on the top. glancing at the sharpie, you inhaled. you picked it up and scribbled down his name. and then, after a moment, you number.

"i used to go there. i knew you looked familiar. i'm a sophomore at college. you were... what, like freshman when i was there?"

"uh... yeah. something like that. that's so weird. i've never seen you around before."

peter winced, "um, yeah, i wasn't the most well known..."

you bit your lip, not wanting the conversation to drop.  "well, here's your disgustingly bland coffee, parker. sure you don't want any sugar or anything? a cookie, maybe?"

"no, i'm okay," he laughed, taking the cup from you. peter took out his wallet and handed you his card, which you took.

"sorry, again. for... you know."

"nothing to apologize for. you're good." pete furrowed his brows. "are- are you closing up yourself?"

you shrugged. "yeah. why?"

"no... it's just, it's really late."

"meh. i live, like, 5 minutes away from here."

"then i can drop you off? just so— just to make sure you get home safe."

"it's okay. besides, i still haven't finished," you gestured vaguely, "all this."

"i can wait. it's okay."

"pete—"

"it'd make me feel a lot better knowing you get home." he tilted his head at you.

everything about him felt so safe; you didn't even know him, but you already trusted him. he had that feeling that resonated off him.

"i—" you blushed, your insides squirming at the fact that he cared about your well-being. he was a stranger, and yet he still wanted to do this, so who were you to refuse? besides, it would be nice you stay and talk to him longer. "okay."

peter grinned, "cool!"

"just give me a minute." you cleaned up, wiping down the tables and pushing in chairs. "you know what'd be crazy?"

peter looked at you.

actually, you weren't sure if he'd ever looked away, because when you glanced up, his eyes were locked on you. "huh?"

"if you were, like, some kidnapper. and i just wouldn't know, because you'd be trying to seem nice, and then bam, you're dragging me to the trunk of your car. kinda like reverse psychology, but not."

he laughed, shaking his head. "how'd you know? man, you just blew my cover."

"don't even try it. i got a fancy red panic button on the underside of this counter."

"do you really?"

"yep... no. we don't. well, technically, we do. but it doesn't work."

"huh. okay."

the two of you went back and forth with little quips, making each other laugh, until finally, you were done. taking of your apron, you tossed it in the bin and hung up the cap. peter held the door open for you as you flipped over the "open" sign to "closed".

"you know, i normally don't let pretty boys walk me back home from work."

"well, i don't normally walk pretty girls home from work. so you should be flattered."

"i'll have you know that i am."

"how come you work so late anyways?"

you sighed, "we don't have... the greatest supply of money. my mom tries her best, but i like to put in the hours whenever i can to help. i do a bunch of extracurriculars because it looks good on resumes, and i only have time for anything else later in the day."

"i see. it's cool of you to help out like that. i'm sure your mom really appreciates that."

wincing, "she doesn't know i work this late. my mom doesn't get back from the office until 1 or 2am. it's nice i have a full scholarship. at least i don't have to pay for college. that crap is crazy expensive. or at least too expensive for us."?

"scholarship? that's awesome. where to?"

you shrugged, "midtown college. not as prestigious as their high school, but it's still something. majoring in graphic design."

"so you, like, draw?" his eyes lit up, "oh, is all that chalk art or the windows and board yours?"

"yep. you like?"

"yeah! are you kidding? that stuff's crazy. i could never."

you laughed, "thanks, pete. oh— well, this is my place. don't leak my address."

"no promises."

"and thanks, again. this was really sweet of you. it's nice knowing that there are still good people out there." and with a sudden burst of confidence, you kissed his cheek. "good night," you murmured.

you were too giddy and happy to look back at him, and you barely caught the farewell that rolled off his lips.

well, at least he had your number.

[dovahkinniez]

` 𖤓 . . . LUCIEN FLAVIUS.

HEY HEY. This did originally come from a request, which I accidentally deleted ... Like an idiot. BUT HERE IT IS. Anyway, this is a different layout, only slightly. And I'm trying to find spaces to enjoy writing again as I've been burnt out for a while due to work. If there are any mistakes, tell me or simply turn a blind eye. 🖤

Lucien is a respectful man, and he almost (dramatically) passed out from stress when they said there was only one room available.

What made it worse? You were to sleep there for two nights, and it wasn't like you could find elsewhere to sleep, you were both in the middle of the cold and harsh winters of Skyrim.

If he weren't pale from the cold before, he definitely was after hearing about the ever so unfortunate circumstances.

But you were so ... Calm?

Any normal person would find comfort in that, but it actually scared Lucien even more.

Because ... Why are you so okay with it?! Can't you see the life altering situation at hand here?!

But as you took off to your room, he followed behind with his eyes tired and mind worrying for the next two nights ahead.

'I will sleep on the floor.' — you laughed at his words as you flopped onto the gigantic bed, fit for three people. He watched, twiddling his thumbs awkwardly.

Lucien slowly sat on the end of the bed, clearly tired and cold, but alert from the feeling of sudden intrusion as you lay onto your side of the bed, "It's not that bad, Luci. We are friends, not strangers." You shrugged, unbothered. He was still slightly baffled by your lack of shock and issue with this, but you simply saw it as a difference in culture and upbringing. He grew up pampered with big beds to himself, and everything was handed on a silver platter at his beck and call. You doubted he'd ever slept beside anybody before, never mind a friend, and you knew he wasn't exactly experienced in the art of sex and romance.

The first night was ... Awkward.

— the first night.

After some time, he built a pillow wall between the two of you. Which, by the way, made you laugh. His dramatic actions caused only humour in you, so much that it warmed your cold body up from the long and harsh journey throughout the day. So instead of bringing him back down to Earth, you allowed him to fuss over nonsense for the pure entertainment value. You already knew that Lucien had a wicked dramatic streak, but the pillow incident really set it in stone.

— the second night.

The next hours to come consisted of laying in the dark with Lucien, eyes on the black ceiling with only little thought as you heard Lucien's breathing, which indicated he was still wide awake. "Can't sleep?" You asked after moments of silence, he moved his body, clearly uncomfortable. "No ... I am sorry if I have intruded." You giggled, then you heard him sigh softly. "It's not awkward, Lucien. You're making it awkward." He sighed once more before what sounded like was turning his body on the other side. "Very well. Goodnight, Y/N." "Goodnight, Lucien."

The day went smoothly and Lucien's unneeded awkwardness has finally dissolved. By the second night, he was fine. Taking the pillow wall down, he lay in bed, shivering from the cold outside. "I told you not to wash in the lake." You grumbled, feeling the cold radiate from his skin under the sheets where you silently wished he had kept the pillows up. But instead you moved closer, taking his cold body beside yours with tangled limbs, your skin grew prickly with temperature shock as he froze, not from the cold, but from the sudden touch. "Breathe, Lucien. I'm trying to heat you up." He only nodded, reluctantly wrapping his arms around yours, his face pushed into your neck with deep breaths as you rubbed his back and entangled your limbs with his.

After sometime, his body calmed into a peaceful warmth between the two of you. His hands gently stroked the exposed skin of your back as yours played with the tangled golden hair atop his head, forehead touching with silent affection. He had never experienced anything like it before, and he doubted he would ever again; he questioned himself if you had ever felt like this before ... Somehow, the possibility caused a nasty feeling in his chest ... Was it jealousy?

All in all, it created a positive memory.

Lucien also realised that night that he may harbour some unknown feelings for you.

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Tess' Sharpuary - 26. Prickly (*)

Aesop very much enjoys making you fall apart below him.

chapter specific tags: 18+!, explicit, established relationship

relationships: aesop sharp x reader

[FULL PICTURE]

26. Prickly (0.8k)

tw: explicit, oral sex, age difference (reader is an adult)

You loved feeling his beard upon your skin. 

It was a completely dizzying sensation, the feeling of his lips dancing upon your sensitive skin, hot tongue caressing and soothing, while his beard stung and burned, leaving you inflamed in more ways than one. The moment he purred his desire against your skin, the sting of his teeth like the first bolt of lightning on an unbearably hot summer night, you felt yourself dampen with lust. He was well aware of the effect he had on you, his kisses deep and intimate, his face nuzzling into the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose dragging over the plush flesh, inhaling your scent as if he was a man starved for air. He knew just how to move so that you’d be in heaven and in hell at once, yielding to the pleasure and to him so very quickly.

As usual, he took his sweet time riling you up, your poor nipples red and sensitive from his devilish teeth, your forehead already covered by a light film of sweat from his ministrations. Giving you a smug smile which looked simply delicious upon his handsome rugged face, he once more flicked his tongue over your pebbled teat, prompting you to release a shaky whimper. His hands gently massaged your breasts and he observed them with a look of deep appreciation. They moved lower then, skimming over your ribs, your waist. His head dipped down, and his bearded face snuggled against your stomach, leaving you with a prickling sensation that made shivers roll through your aroused body.

His tongue circled your belly button before dipping inside teasingly, and teeth then once more closed around some of the soft skin, squeezing it to the point of light pain. “You have to forgive me, my love,” he whispered, his voice low like a predator’s growl, “but I find myself feeling very much the starving beast whenever I’ve got you in my grasp… All spread out for me - you are the perfect canvas for me to work on.”

And then, finally, he lowered his head further, his sharp inhale audible even over your loud breathing and even louder beating heart. Your back arched off the bed slightly when he buried his face between your legs, the prickle of his beard against your most sensitive place enough to make your toes curl, and he seemed intent on having you fall apart for him entirely. He devoured you firmly, roughly almost, turning your gasps into moans and making you squirm within seconds, those slightly crooked teeth of his reducing you into a proper mess. 

He knew exactly how his nose and moustache felt like on your nub, and he revelled in leaving you visibly ravished, if only for a little bit. And ravish you, he did. Using the considerable strength in his arms, he trapped your hips in one position, not allowing you to seek any purchase - you would come on his terms and his terms only. Even as tears of pleasure rolled out of your eyes, the sensations soon becoming too much, he didn't stop. And you didn’t want him to stop.

He liked having you look at him while he shoved you over the edge, he liked your eyes connected with his own as you plummeted towards the mind-numbing bliss - he was the only one who could make you feel this way, and you were his, and his only. He didn’t stop even after you released against his lips, your legs shaking, and your cries of gratification unintelligible. No, Aesop carried on, wanting more. Again and again, he’d tear you into pieces with pleasure, only to put you back together and start again.

And then, when you felt nearly delusional from the continuous bliss, oversensitive and pulsing all over, did he finally start ascending back up your tired body. Even as his lips once more teased at your nipples, as his clever hands stroked at your skin, you weren't certain if you could go again, his sweet torture having left you in a state of utter exhaustion. 

However, when his mouth connected with your neck again, when his beard once more teased at the tender, reddened skin, when his body covered your own completely, pressing it into the mattress, you could feel he found his own pleasure already, just by giving you yours. The knowledge that your scent, your taste, the sounds you made were enough to bring him over the edge was what you needed to replenish your energy. It made you crave him again. 

You brought his face up, made him look at you, and your eyes spoke louder than words ever could. His grin told you he heard exactly what you didn’t say.

“Hm, my love… aren’t you tired?” he purred, the unmistakable stirring of his front against you making you grin in return.

Your hands tangled in his hair shortly before moving down, towards his shoulders and back. Your fingernails dug into the muscles, leaving angry red crescent moons in their wake, like they did so, so many times before: “No, not tired… hungry.”

You were going to be sore all over tomorrow...

---

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed ❤

[AO3] - [Sharpuary 2024] - [Masterlist]

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Of all the decisions Lambert had (and would) come to regret, this one definitely hadn't been on his list.

He and Aiden had run into Geralt, sat alongside a brunette man who could only be the bard they'd heard rumours about - if the way he was sitting a little too close to a Witcher than was deemed sensible and appeared to be talking Geralt's ear off was any indication. The white haired Witcher looked both panicked and relieved when he spotted them, calling them over and making hasty introductions in an attempt to draw the humans attention away from him for a few minutes.

Something which successfully resulted in Aiden and Jaskier acting as if they'd known one another for years rather than hours, the Cat more than happy to keep fielding the bard's questions (Lambert had resorted to Geralt's tried and tested method of grunts and growls when they hit double digits with no signs of stopping) and trade casual, friendly touches.

Although they agreed on most things, that was something they had never been able to see eye to eye on. Lambert tolerated touch at the best of times, the moments that weren't linked to punishment or training fleeting at best. Aiden on the other hand, thrived on it, constantly subconsciously latching onto the nearest body in one form or another. Unfortunately for Lambert, whenever Aiden decided to tag along for longer than a day or two, the nearest body was usually him. Even at night, he would migrate - moving his bed roll so they woke up nose to nose when they had started the night on opposite sides of the fire and on the occasions when they had needed to share a bed, many a time had Lambert woken up with Aiden wrapped around him like an octopus.

So naturally, when Jaskier and Aiden had come back from speaking to the innkeeper about rooms for the night - explaining that yes, they had two rooms but one of them was a double bed whilst the other was two singles - Geralt and Lambert had both simultaneously stated that they would take the two singles under the guise of wanting to catch up with one another properly, while Jaskier and Aiden - in Lambert's words - could "Do one anothers hair and fight about who gets to be the little spoon." (He'd meant the first part as a joke, but from the way Jaskier started eyeing up Aiden's curls....). It was the perfect solution.

Except it wasn't, as it turns out. Sleeping lightly anyway - thanks to being in a strange place and surrounded by fickle, unpredictable humans - Lambert's mind appeared to be a few steps behind and refusing to accept that just because it was night and Aiden wasn't in his line of sight didn't mean he was in danger. He was getting tired of being pulled out of his doze every time someone slammed a door to then be jerked into full wakefulness because the body he was expecting to be sharing (invading) his personal space wasn't there. From the looks of it Geralt wasn't faring much better, his eyes meeting Lambert's every time from the bed closest to the door.

It was the early hours of the morning when Geralt pulled himself from under the covers, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a resigned "Fuck me." before opening the door and blinking in surprise to see Aiden stood there, a fist raised ready to knock. The two of them exchanged a brief nod before Geralt slipped out of the room and Aiden inside.

Aiden didn't even give the now spare bed a cursory glance, making a bee line for Lambert who scootched closer to the wall without even making a show of grumbling as the Cat climbed in beside him, pressing himself along his back and tucking his knees behind Lambert's.

"What happened, bard too handsy even for you?" Lambert asked, only half joking as he felt something in him uncoil now that he could see the other was alright.

"No, but Geralt wasn't exaggerating when he said he never shuts up. He talks in his sleep. Plus, maybe I just missed my more prickly bed buddy."

"Don't ever call me that again."

"What would you prefer? Cuddle chum, snuggle monster? Not that you ever reciprocate that much, but a little embellishment never hurt-"

"Fucks sake. If I give you a cuddle will you shut the hell up?"

He didn't miss the little pleased noise Aiden made as he moved back just far enough for Lambert to be able to turn onto his back and lift an arm which Aiden immediately took advantage of, pressing his nose into Lambert's collar bone as he threw an arm across Lamberts chest, the Wolf feeling the slight purr as he awkwardly wrapped his arm around Aiden's shoulders in return.

"G'night, Prickles."

Lambert couldn't muster the energy to bite back on that one as he felt his eyes slip closed, not waking again until the innkeeper yelled at them through the door to either pay for another day or get out.

[thegoldenavenger]

not gonna write this right now but!

svsss / lotr fusion au

proud immortal demon way is a grimdark fantasy story sorta like game of thrones/song of ice and fire which shen yuan hate read because he liked the protagonist and really wanted him to get a happy ending but, that, uh. DID NOT HAPPEN. EMPHATICALLY.

anyways, shen yuan transmigrates into a hobbit, waits for the plot to Happen, and when it doesn't for almost 10 years he realises he must have transmigrated to sometime before or after the plot happening and dives head first into being a hobbit. the food! the books! the gossip! yes, he'd love to get out an explore this fantastical world a bit more, but hobbits weren't very adventurous and shen yuan didn't want to stumble into the plot any more now than at first.

shang qinghua is his fellow transmigrated hobbit. once shen yuan realises this, he latches onto shang qinghua and they become somewhat antagonistic friends. shen yuan cherishes him! despite having written the novel, shang qinghua also does not know exactly where in the plot they are. the shire got very little mentioning in the original novels so they could really be at anytime at all except for the part where the shire gets burned down or what not.

this is all very well and good until someone knocks on shen yuan's door in the middle of the night and he opens it to find a strange, tall, extremely, tall, extremely beautiful, man who waltzes into his little hobbit hole like he owns it.

this is shen jiu, a wizard. who... knows? shen yuan? shen yuan does not know shen jiu. shen jiu does not seem to be worried about that. shen jiu, after making himself QUITE at home in shen yuan's little abode, gang presses shen yuan into a fun little quest. shen yuan is not quite sure how exactly he ends up on the trail towards a mountain to free it from a dragon but he is--in a word--excited.

a dragon? he's only read about them! in two worlds now! and he'll get to see one, and possibly more amazing creatures. he is accompanied by shen jiu of course, snappy and acerbic, stern and moody by turns, but obviously and intimidatingly powerful. he is also accompanied by ming fan, a relatively young dwarf who falls all over himself to impress shen jiu; ning yingying another excitable dwarf happy to be on this quest of some import; yue qi, a solemn but friendly man who falls over himself around shen jiu more than ming fan does; also like three to five more people i cant be bothered to squish in. this isn't about them!

anyways, it turns out that this is the prequel story--shen yuan only finds out when he returns from his adventures with an unbearable amount of treasure, to a shocked shire and an even more shocked shang qinghua who explains that Shen Jiu, whom shen yuan has grown a bit fond of in spite of himself, is actually Shen Qingqiu, the wicked wizard who set Luo Binghe on his path to becoming the dark and gritty protagonist in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

shen yuan boggles. surely not????? shen jiu is prickly, yes, but he didn't seem like the man the book described. shang qinghua shrugs, said this was a light hearted fantasy he wrote when he was younger and more idealistic but it is definitely the Same Dude.

but, shang qinghua says, they obviously aren't following the same plot since Shen Yuan was definitely not in shang qinghua's writing, and several things didn't happen or were changed. in any case, this prequel was decades prior to anything that occurred in the main novel so shen yuan delicately decides he probably doesn't need to worry about it.

he fingers the jade pendant he'd been given on his journey.

the pendant, of course, belongs to Luo Binghe. in Proud Immortal Demon Way Luo Binghe started the novel out as an orphaned halfling, without family or community, and barely the clothes on his back to his name. he struggled to survive on his own, his only treasure the jade pendant he'd always had since he was a baby. he could only imagine that his parents bequeathed it to him before they--died? probably. luo binghe had never known what happened to orphan him so thoroughly.

he'd stumbled into wardship with a powerful wizard who was meant to mentor him, however instead of nurturing luo binghe's relative youth (halflings aged much slower than men, a hearty thirty years was mere teenage years in comparison) he had set jealous eyes on luo binghe and made his life miserable. when he caught sight of luo binghe's pendant, he'd stolen it and with it released the other half of luo binghe's heritage.

su xiyan was a creature much like a hobbit, as these things go, but his father was a powerful demon (dark elf? listen i am not deep in the lotr lore but w/e the hell sauron is haha). the union wasn't meant to be, and when separated, tianlang-jun tried to raze the realms in fury, and almost managed it with his demon sword of power xin mo. however, he was defeated, xin mo shattered, and sealed under a mountain.

luo binghe's heritage was also suppressed. whatever su xiyan carried from her entanglement with tianlang-jun, resentment or pity or fear, she evidently cared enough for her child to try and give him a normal life free of a tainted ancestry. she gave him a pendant and set him adrift on the luo river where his tale of misery began.

when shen qingqiu removed the pendant, in the situation it happened in, luo binghe's powers and heritage manifested. shen qingqiu disavowed his newly unmasked disciple and abandoned him among the shadows of the badlands around mount doom.

embittered and adrift, luo binghe fought through what was tantamount to hell, laid claim on the throne his father left empty, commanded the wayward bands of orcs and goblins and other unsavory creatures, and worked on claiming or conquering all else. the realm of men never showed him any kindness at all, and so he would burn it all to the ground.

what started as a fairly interesting, if dark, coming of age story morphed into a grimdark grapple for power, politics, and sex. shen yuan, who had been charmed by the young luo binghe's enduring effort to find somewhere he belonged, became swept away with the darkened and awakened luo binghe's effort to create somewhere he belonged, without mercy if necessary.

however, somewhere during luo binghe's rise to power more and more of the plot threads were being dropped. luo binghe's cunning coups and strategic battles became more single note. at some point the adversaries became one dimensional, canon fodder. luo binghe's plans came to fruition with barely any struggle. as a power fantasy, shen yuan supposed it was fine-enough. one could, theoretically, turn their brain off and enjoy luo binghe's methodical scouring of the realm, conquering of power, and claiming of women. but everything shen yuan had started reading for, and had stayed for, was stripped away except for the protagonist himself.

in the end, the only place luo binghe could make for himself was a cold, lonely world empty of anyone luo binghe could turn to.

it was, perhaps, no wonder that shen yuan had frothed himself into such apoplectic fury he had died cursing the author's work.

the point is, though, that there was absolutely no way the cute youth shen yuan had encountered in the goblin caves had been luo binghe. the boy hadn't introduced himself, but when shen yuan was fleeing the wrath of the goblin king, the boy had given shen yuan his necklace.

"it will turn you invisible, so it can help you escape." the boy had said.

"what about you?" shen yuan had asked, reluctant to take the boy's only means of defense.

"it's fine!"

"but it's your treasure, isn't it?" shen yuan recalled the hours of commentary he had coaxed out of the boy as he'd been led through the dank tunnels trying to reunite with his wayward band of dwarves and wizards.

"it can help you now, i want you to take it!" the boy's eyes had been starry in the dark.

"but--" shen yuan was forced to hold the pendant as the boy shoved it into his hands. with reluctance, he settled it around his neck. "how will i return it?" he asked instead.

the boy had smiled at him, eyes wet with emotion. "i'm sure we'll meet again, shen yuan from the shire."

"okay then. i'll give it to you next time."

the pendant had turned him invisible and shen yuan was able to escape the goblins, somehow rescue his teammates, sneak into the dragon mountain, steal the treasures he'd been tasked to steal, liberate the mountain he'd been tasked to liberate, and even accomplished his own secret goal: save the dragon.

(you see, shen yuan loves creatures of all sorts, and he'd always sort of been sad when things like dragons had to be killed to save the day. didn't they also deserve to live in peace? so, when a snake like creature conspired with him to help relocate the dragon under the guise of burying it with melted gold, what could shen yuan do but agree? and the plan had worked! the mountain was liberated, the city nearby was freed from constant dragon-induced fear, his traveling companions were happy enough, and the dragon and presumably its snake-friend were safely living somewhere else probably.)

anyways, the boy can't have been luo binghe and the pendant cant be the pendant because the pendant never turned luo binghe invisible in the novels shen yuan read, and luo binghe would have never given it away! he'd reliably become berserk if the pendant had ever been in danger and of course the moment shen qingqiu had stolen it luo binghe had erupted into a coalescing tornado of unleashed power.

that did not happen when the starry-eyed, lonely, somewhat skittish but still kind and receptive young kid had given shen yuan the pendant. therefore, that kid wasn't luo binghe and this pendant is not The Pendant. there are probably a hundred sad orphans and a thousand more magical pendants in the wide million-word history of proud immortal demon way.

so when shang qinghua points at the pendant some years later and starts yelling hysterically, shen yuan has no idea why. shen jiu, who is visiting for shen yuan's birthday celebration, and quite used to shang qinghua's hysterics, offers to look over the pendant. shen yuan lets him, though if shang qinghua was awake he might get scolded for that. yes shen yuan knows shen jiu steals the pendant in the book! but! shang qinghua said it himself: shen yuan has already changed things! probably shen jiu won't steal from shen yuan! they're friends! also, this isn't the pendant so it's all a moot point.

this leaves shen yuan completely open when shen jiu does actually steal the pendant. he whisks it away, barely touching it, folding it into his billowing sleeves, eyes as flinty as shen yuan had ever seen them.

"i need to find out what this is," shen jiu explained, as shen yuan angrily stormed after him on his way out. "it feels-- hungry."

"i--" shen yuan is stopped when shen jiu whirls around and places his hands on shen yuan's shoulders.

"do you not trust me?"

shen yuan thought that was very unfair, as he had just determined to himself to trust that shen jiu wouldn't steal his pendant and the wizard had just gone and done that. but the look in shen jiu's eyes stayed shen yuan's tongue.

"do you think i would just take from you for no reason? have i not labored enough under your ceaseless expectations of me to have earned your trust in this?"

shen yuan carefully breathed out through his nose. "is it not the same question for me?" he asked, "do i not deserve an explanation? must i always sit here in the dark as though even the simplest of truths would make me suspicious of you. do you not trust me to listen?"

shen jiu seemed to struggle.

shang qinghua managed to recover, at this point, and catch up to them. he interjected, for once his tremulous tone evened into a sober enough inflection that even shen jiu listened. "It is exactly what you suspect! we can do whatever tests you need right here, in shen yuan's hearth, you needn't journey with it yourself."

shen jiu's eyes narrowed, and shen yuan cast confused glances at both his friends. even if it was luo binghe's pendant, wasn't it just a seal limiting binghe's power?

"you're not even touching it and can feel it whispering, can't you?" shang qinghua asked.

"what do you know of it?" shen jiu snarled, but his eyes betrayed a sort of fear shen yuan had never seen from his friend before.

"it won't do you any kindness to keep it, whatever you mean."

shen jiu, for a minute, looked as though he would ignore shang qinghua, but in the end the wizard closed his eyes and lifted the handkerchief covered pendant from where he had stashed it.

"it's heavy," shen jiu said, and dropped it into shen yuan's waiting palm.

it turns out the pendant is actually xin mo. "xin mo was actually uh, pretty fucked up? it corrupted tianlang-jun's mind, that's why he tried to destroy everything. su xiyan sealed its power into the pendant, but as luo binghe gets older and his heritage closer to awakening, xin mo grew more powerful." shang qinghua explained once shen jiu left ostensibly to research the predicament they were left in, but more realistically to recover from his brush with xin mo's corruptive influence. at least according to shang qinghua.

"but binghe didn't have the pendant when he started his conquest." shen yuan pointed out.

"no? he didn't need a hell-artifact trying to corrupt him. you read the story bro, his life sucked. he didn't need much of an excuse to get revenge."

"then why the pendant at all? isn't that too confusing? a macguffin you don't even use?"

"that was the point though!" shang qinghua was picking up enthusiasm now. "Luo Binghe had Xin Mo, the same thing that drove his father mad, but Luo Binghe could have resisted that. but being treated the way he was? his master undermining him and, ultimately abandoning him? magical artifacts don't make people into all of that," he said gesturing as if he could encompass all of luo binghe in his hand, "People make people into monsters quite enough on their own."

shen yuan bit his lip. that was, of course, why he'd stuck with reading pidw after all. he couldn't refute shang qinghua's words. watching luo binghe's slow descent into more and more anti-hero grimdarkness was enthralling because of how thouroughly the bright niavety had been beated out of him. shen yuan had wanted luo binghe to get his revenge, to get his power, and to create a place he could call home. he'd had plenty of the first two, but the latter had never come to fruition.

"wait! that was the point?" shen yuan asked, "but you never explained xin mo at all? or all this about the pendant! after shen qingqiu stole it, it might as well have disappeared! even after luo binghe captured him, the pendant wasn't brought up again. i had to bend over backwards to try and gather all of your loose plot threads! half the novel was just him winning another fight or finding another woman!"

"well, i mean, it was supposed to be the point. but ah, well i lost my notes and then--" he made a noise as shen yuan hit him. "But! I tried! Luo Binghe got a sword didn't he? after he captured shen qingqiu? that's xin mo! that's why he does all the fighting and fu-- uh, women. shen qingqiu couldn't destroy the pendant, and breaking it only released its true form. so luo binghe got his father's sword after all and it doesn't matter at all that he could resist it, because he didn't want to."

"why is shen jiu so worried about it anyways? i mean, i didn't feel anything." shen yuan looked skeptically at the drawer they had hidden the pendant.

"uhm, most people can though." shang qinghua said. "that's a lot of why luo binghe's life sucked so much? everytime someone was around him they felt xin mo."

shen yuan frowned, remembering the bright eyed youth from the caves. that had been luo binghe then? with his messy hair and messier clothes and dirt stained hands and feet. shen yuan, breathless from fear and running, had still not been able to resist the urge to wipe at the kid's face with his sleeve. people looked at that and what? felt compelled to be mean?

"most people are petty," shang qinghua said, correctly interpreting shen yuan's furrowing brow, "not everyone can be as peerless as the great peerless cucumber--"

"shut up." shen yuan frowned and crossed his arms. "you didn't answer my question! okay so, it has bad vibes. what about it? it's a pendant? i'm certainly not going to scour the realms. even if i wanted to, i could be squashed like a bug. who cares? why steal it from binghe?"

"because, if someone squashed you like a bug or stole it from binghe then it would eventually find someone who was powerful enough to scour the realms. i mean, even shen qingqiu wasn't immune to it! he thought taking it from binghe was the right choice, because he was worried someone stronger would take it, but obviously it wasn't. even with binghe's heritage being revealed, shen qingqiu ended up fracturing a lot of his connections while he held onto the pendant. he thought he was protecting the realms from it, but really he was just protecting it until binghe picked it up again. he practically laid the ground work for his own imprisonment with that. besides that, there are plenty of people who would think xin mo was a tool they could use for good. and they'd be wrong. so it's best to destroy it."

"but if binghe can resist it, and taking it from him is half of what makes him turn into you know, bing-ge, isn't it best just to give it back?"

shang qinghua boggled. "how did you come to that conclusion?"

"well, it's his treasure, and he wasn't doing anything wrong with it. you said yourself he could resist it! so isn't it best if the protagonist holds onto it? binghe's strong enough no one could take it..." well, besides the time someone had taken it.

a look came over shang qinghua that shen yuan couldn't identify. "i don't know. maybe he had such a tolerance because he built it up while it was in his posession all those years. but you've had it for like ten? twenty? years?"

Shen Yuan frowned. it wasn't that long for a hobbit, but it was incredibly long for the human shen yuan had been once.

"who knows how he'd react to it now! and absolutely no one is going to agree to just give an artifact of ancient evil to some kid no one knows!"

"he'd be almost thirty now, wouldn't he?" shen yuan said, almost without his own will putting together the timeline. in the novel, this is when luo binghe would be meeting shen qingqiu for the first time. thirty was too young for a hobbit to be on his own, never mind that shen yuan had been living by himself in both lives by the time he was 19.

"you are, frankly, impossible." shang qinghua gave up.

shen jiu came back in the middle of the night, as he was prone to doing, and whisks shen yuan and shang qinghua away on a journey to bring the pendant to a meeting of the realms in order to further discuss what to do with it.

"destroy it," shang qinghua murmered.

there were whispers of a dark power coalescing in the north at the bad lands bordering mount doom. orcs and goblins and other sort being organised and turned against the villages and townships close to the border, each raid pushing their powers further out.

"it's too early for binghe yet, isn't it?" shen yuan asked under his breath.

the worst of it. "they know the pendant is in the shire." shen jiu informed shen yuan and shang qinghua in the middle of throwing things into packs for travel.

"what? how?" shang qinghua quailed.

"who knew about the pendant? ming fan? yue qingyuan?" shen jiu asked, at once correctly inferring the only possible time shen yuan might have come across it.

"no--" shen yuan faltered. luo binghe had been the only other one to know, as he'd given it to him. but would luo binghe sell that information to the dark forces rising against them? or was he, indeed, the dark forces themselves?

shen jiu tsked. "it doesn't matter just now. we have to leave."

so they left, headed towards the cang qiong mountains where shen jiu hoped they could foist the responsibility of the pendant onto some other poor sucker.

[salllzy]

Sal's snippets #25

Alastor was an Omega and Omegas were rare in Hell, in the entire history of Hell there had only been two dozen Omegas. It was why he kept it a secret. He had no desire to be hunted because of his second gender, although it wasn't just him. His fawn was an Omega as well. Although most wouldn't believe it given their attitudes. Of course, Sarah wasn't a secret, it wasn't their fault that those who resided in Hell weren't smart enough to realise that something was wrong. There were some who knew that he had a daughter, Carmilla, Rosie and Zestial were aware that Sarah existed. Rosie had been over the moon when she had realised that he had a daughter. Zestial had been thrilled as well, Alastor would admit that he would consider them friends or possibly more than friends, but there were things that he would never tell them. Of course, there had been the disastrous first meeting with Sarah, he had warned the other Overlords that she wasn't one to be trifled with and that she was wild. They hadn't listened, Rosie had ended up with several broken bones before he had been able to clear up the situation. They had learned that she was even worse than he was when it came to touch. Sarah was prickly and only allowed a select few to touch her and none of the other Overlords weren't on the list. However, he would give them points for trying. Then he ended up working at the hotel, to say that it was one disaster after another was an understatement. It also didn't help that the King had decided to live in the hotel. Alastor was doing everything in his power to avoid spending any time with the King, it wasn't just because the King was an Alpha either. Well, it was part of the reason. The King's scent drove him up the wall and not in a good way. Normally Alphas would smell revolting to him and he had resigned himself to the fact that he would never find a mate, Sarah's mother didn't count as they didn't mate, they had only been married a year before she had run off with another man. Alastor had no luck when it came to relationships and the last one had put him off romantic relationships altogether. But it was more than just that. Hell had a rather dim view of angels and it wasn't that shocking given that every year without fail an army would for all intents and purposes invade Hell and begin to slaughter the citizens. Although, the Hellborn and nobles didn't see it that way. Not that they knew what went on the Pride Ring. Still, the fact of the matter was, Hell had a great hatred for angels baring their King of course. He also knew that his supposed 'enemies' would stop at nothing to see him destroyed and he had no desire to get into a pissing completion with lowlifes and the Vees. So he knew that he needed to be careful, the last thing he or Sarah needed was for anyone to find out that they were part angel. He would sooner be revealed as an Omega than have his angelic side revealed.

[ghostofskywalker]

Did I miss my window on the drunk drabbles!? Could I request drunk crosshair getting messy drunk? Pls <3 much love and remember to stay hydrated

no you're weren't too late :) i loved this prompt idea!!

words: 877

clone troopers masterlist

It was clear that Crosshair hadn’t drank in a while, because according to Wrecker he used to be able to handle his liquor better than the entire Bad Batch combined, but now it had taken barely three drinks before he was completely out of his mind. 

Slumped over on the countertop of Cid’s bar, he burped loudly for the entire room to hear, and Hunter just rolled his eyes with a sigh. You watched the sniper with a curious expression, checking to see if the glass he was holding was in danger of falling to the floor (or at least, that’s what you told yourself). 

You had held something of a fascination with Crosshair, having joined the squad when he was still working with the Empire. And now that he was back, you couldn’t help the way you wanted to get to know him, no matter how prickly and standoffish he may have seemed.

Hunter could see where your eyes kept shifting to, and he raised his eyebrows at you. “Just let him be,” he said quietly. “I think he has a lot of feelings that he needs to work through.” 

You nodded, but didn’t want to completely listen to the advice. Clearly he was more drunk now than he had been in a while, possibly more drunk than he had ever been. It didn’t seem right to just leave him somewhere to figure everything out himself, and when the rest of the Batch retired to the ship to go to sleep, you elected to stay behind. 

“Are you sure?” Echo had asked you, a concerned expression on his face. “I can stay here if you want, this way he has someone to make sure he doesn’t pass out in an alley.”

You laughed, patting the ARC trooper’s shoulder and shaking your head. “No, don’t worry about it. I know you’re tired, and I should be fine here on my own.”  He nodded, and only left the cantina after making you promise to comm him if anything went wrong. 

And just like that, you were alone with Crosshair. 

He was mumbling to himself at this point, and you wondered what else would happen before you were finally able to convince him to go back to bed. From what the rest of the Batch had told you about him, he didn’t seem like the type to cry while drunk, but you never knew. 

“Anotherrrr,” he slurred, holding out the empty bottle of beer that he had finished. 

“Absolutely not, Grumpy,” Cid said from behind the bar, shooting you a look that screamed get him out of here or I’m going to lose it. “You’re being cut off for the evening.” 

Crosshair mumbled something not-so-nice under his breath, and you snapped your fingers, causing him to look over in your direction. The stern expression on your face and the way you shook your head made your feelings clear. “Oh I get it,” he drawled. “You’re my babysitter for the evening. How does it feel to be stuck with the job nobody wants?”

“For your information, I chose to remain here and make sure you got back to the ship safely,” you snapped. 

“How noble, do you want a prize?” he sneered, and you tried to remember that this was likely just the alcohol talking. “Still, it wasn’t like anyone else was going to do it.” 

For a moment, you could read his true feelings through his expression, he was sad, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Instead of trying to argue the point further, especially to a man who would in no way remember this the next morning, you decided to try a different approach and try to herd him back to the ship. And for the most part, it was successful, once you managed to get Crosshair to an open area. He was certainly more drunk than he was used to, given the fact that he stubbed his toe twice (on two different tables!), and he threw up a little in Cid’s trash can on the way out. After he realized that you weren’t going to go away, and that you didn’t shrink away from his insults, Crosshair got a little easier to deal with. 

Once you finally made it back to the Marauder, you literally had to wrap your arm around his waist and get him into his bunk. Hunter was still awake, and he looked at you two with an odd expression, but you preemptively silenced any comment he would have made with a quick glare. 

The touches you shared with Crosshair seemed far too intimate for a man you barely knew, but there was no way he would have any recollection of this, which made it a little easier to process. You rifled through the medkit to look for a pain reliever, and you left two of them on the little ledge next to his bunk, along with a canteen of water for the next morning, because he was going to need it. 

And as you laid down in your own bunk, you tried to forget the feeling of him laying his head on your shoulder and his fingertips gripping your waist, but you knew that wouldn’t be happening any time soon.

[earthry]

Dragon Secondo & Copia and a Human Reader (OT3 Headcanons)

This is for @copiasjuicebox!

tw: violence, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, whump, enemies to lovers, secondo and copia are NOT related, not proof read or edited, happy ending, poly relationship, ot3, secondo/copia/reader. more dragon hc content.

Secondo knew you first.

He rubs it in Copia's face every chance he gets, reminding the other dragon that all your firsts belonged to him too.

When you lived in that castle all alone and scared, when you were abandoned by the king to a cruel fate; he was your first protector, your friend friend, your first love.

It was him who held you in his arms during the nights of the first few months (even though at first it was so you would stop that awful crying), when you had trouble adjusting, when you were anxious about knights coming to take you away to a life you didn't want.

Him that showed you kindness despite his prickly behavior, teaching you to cook and take care of yourself. Showing you how to do mundane things you were never taught. He never called you foolish or dumb or stupid or selfish for not knowing these things.

He may have been a little emotionally distant at times, may have been hard to communicate with, but he was all you had and you loved him. He loved you too, but he was always afraid to tell you so he never did.

He should have though. He should have told you every single morning and every single night. He should have held you closer, treasured you more. Should have let you know how much you meant to him instead of letting you guess because he didn't want to be vulnerable.

You were hiding when you first hear those dreaded lies leave his mouth. Confronting more knights, he had been annoyed. Rather than killing them right away, he had tried to turn them away first. He didn't know you weren't in the library anymore, that you had finished your book and gone to search for him.

You didn't know he had felt that way about you. The lies he spun that he never meant for you to hear. That you were pain, that you could barely take care of yourself. That you were a burden. You were undesirable, unwanted. That's why the king sent you so far away after all. Besides, you were used goods. He'd already taken his fill of you and surely these knights wouldn't want the leftovers, would they?

You'd heard of heartbreak, read about it even. But you've never experienced it till now and all this time you'd always thought to yourself: surely it cannot be that bad, can it?

You were wrong. You never knew you could feel like this, never knew that pain like this felt like drowning above water, felt like a growing blackhole in your chest.

Second was right, all your firsts do belong to him. First betrayal, first heartbreak, first deceiver, first realization of how foolish and naive you were.

You lock yourself away in your room for a few days, refusing to come out no matter how much Secondo tries to coax you from your haven.

You decide to leave, unable to stand having to see him everyday and know that he's been lying to you, know that he never loved you, that he thinks the worst of you.

You take off in the middle of the night and try not to take anything that's his, only taking what is yours (which isn't a lot).

When he discovers that you're gone, he practically tears his entire tower to the ground, searching. He calls your name for as long as he can until his voice is a low painful rasp and his lungs can no longer scream.

He's ruthless to anyone he comes by, interrogating and ripping them to shreds. He cannot be consoled for losing his love, his heart, his soulmate. He will never stop looking for you.

---

Copia was the one that found you.

He reminds this to Secondo whenever the man gets too cocksure of himself.

The world is a harsh place and you discover this quickly when you leave the safety of your tower. Money and food and supplies; these are all things you do not have and have no idea how to obtain or earn. Eventually you end up on Copia's doorstep, the entrance of a cave as you attempted to seek shelter as your last shreds of consciousness began to slip away. You were barely hanging in there when he discovered you; half frozen, half starved to death.

He takes you to his tower and slowly nurses you back to health. You don't trust him one bit, especially when you discover that he's a dragon. It hits too close to home, too close to the heart when you had just left yours behind.

He doesn't understand your distrust but he doesn't push and gives you all the time in the world.

When you're healthy again, he asks if you would like to stay. He's been lonely for a while and it would be nice to have someone in the tower to talk to.

You have nowhere to go anyways, so you reluctantly stay. You avoid him at all costs at first, using the rats to send messages to him instead of looking for him and speaking to him directly.

After the first few months with Copia, snow begins to fall and he asks you if you want to go to the surface to see it.

You do, and he takes you to see it. For the first time in a long time, you smile.

From then on, you're a little more trusting and willing to be around Copia. You become friends and learn more about him and find that he's awkward and silly and wonderful company.

You should have known you were falling in love, but you realized it too late. You practically have a panic attack and you avoid him for a whole week. He's concerned but he tries to give you space.

He knows you've had your heart broken before and he vows to never make the same mistake.

It's a struggle and a fight for the two of you but eventually, you fall into each other's arms and you tentatively accept his love.

For a while, it's enough. Even if you don't stop loving Secondo, even if you think about him at least once every day. Even if you miss him like you're missing a part of yourself. It's enough. It has to be enough.

He doesn't want you anyways.

---

The first time Copia and Secondo meet, it's almost a bloodbath. Secondo sees you in Copia's arms and the only thing he sees is red.

You manage to get in between them and they stop, though both are injured in some way. You tell them to stop and you ask why they're fighting.

Secondo's expression softens so much when he addresses you, and he tells you with a low growl at Copia that you are his.

The words feel gutting and you immediately burst into tears. The two dragons let out panicked and surprised noises and immediately try to comfort you.

You tell Secondo you heard every single word of what he had said and he looks horrified. He promise, swears that of it is true. He was only trying to get the knights to turn back. He gets to his knees for you, begs you to believe him. He would never, ever feel that way about you.

After carrying the hurt around for so long, you're not sure if you believe him.

You tell him with a shaky voice that he's never told you that he loves you, that he never shows it. You voice your insecurities and he tells you that he never said anything because he was afraid to. He realizes now how foolish it was of him, and he confesses all his own insecurities to you.

Hearing this, you finally let your heart start to hope just a tiny bit and you collapse into his arms. He holds you so so tight, finally having you back with him is like his heart is whole again. He never ever wants to let you go.

You tell him you missed him too, that you had thought you were unwanted. He gives you all the reassurances and love you need.

When emotions die down, another problem arises.

Copia. He's a good boy, he gave the two of you space to talk and when he returns, he looks uncertain.

He looks like he's bracing himself for you to take off with Secondo and while he says it's okay and that he'll manage, you know too much about heartache to mistake the expression he wears as anything else.

It takes a lot of negotiation but for now, Copia agrees to go with the two of you to Secondo's tower. Secondo hates the idea of Copia being around you, of him touching you or even looking at you, but he knows you love him.

He's hurt you so much already he can't stand the idea of hurting you more.

Co-existence takes time to get used to. Copia and Secondo are always posturing and posting up against each other-- Secondo more than Copia, but as Copia begins to realize that he's not in risk of being thrown away by you he starts standing up for himself more.

They do things to rile each other up on purpose, pulling you in to give you a kiss or press your body flush against their body and whispering things in your ear until you flush the prettiest colors of red.

It's constantly a war between the two of you and while it drives you nuts, they manage to keep it tame enough to live together for a longterm. Eventually Secondo relents to your pleading and tells Copia he can stay longer and bring his rats (but if they get into his things he'll eat them-- you were horrified at first but then he whispered in your ear that he's bluffing because he'd never do anything to upset you like that).

You spend the rest of winter together and soon spring comes and goes and summer is upon the three of you. The heat is oppressive.

You don't realize it has that much of an affect on Secondo until he collapses one day while you are out in the sun. You panic and you call Copia crying.

He comforts you and promises Secondo will be okay-- he takes Secondo and carries him back to the tower with you in tow closely behind.

When Secondo regains consciousness he admits sheepishly that he may have pushed himself too much-- he's the strongest in winter and weakest in the summer. The heat is a little too much for him especially with the summers getting hotter and hotter.

He shouldn't be under direct contact under the sun but he'd wanted to spend more time with you and you were so happy to go out each time. You're a little heartbroken to know he pushed himself for you but he promises you that he's okay.

The only issue is that his body has been strained way too much and he can't really get out of bed that often. Kind of like how animals hibernate, his body begins to shut down little by little to conserve energy and heal. He needs constant cold regulation in the room and you often sit by his bed with a cold towel and icepacks. You're worried but he assures you that it'll only last a few weeks to a month at the most.

For the first time, he has a talk with Copia. A true talk and a show of trust-- he entrusts your care and wellbeing and happiness to Copia while he's still sick and bedridden and Copia swears to him that he will do everything and anything to make sure of it.

This is when things begin to change.

You are not alone in taking care of Secondo-- Copia surprisingly helps a lot. Actually, he takes over a lot of the duties like cooking and making sure the room is cool. Secondo scowls at the first time when Copia comes in with a tub of ice and goes 'what the fuck are you doing?' and Copia just rolls his eyes and tells Secondo he's trying to keep him cool and Secondo just sits there blinking like 'Oh. Uh... thank you I guess?'. He's a little stunned.

Eheheheh anyways here's where he starts crushing on Copia because sudden he gets the 'Copia nursing you back to health' treatment, the 'Copia being gentle and caring and attentive to all your needs' treatment. And it's... it's really nice.

He starts looking forwards to when Copia comes to check on him, looking forwards to hearing Copia's little murmurs and noises that he makes to himself while he tuts around the room.

(He hates it though and will deny it 1000% if you ask him)

Copia doesn't know when taking care of Secondo went from being a thing of obligation and duty to one of care and choice. He can tell that Secondo is getting used to his presence and he thinks it's the funniest (and also a little cute) when Secondo catches himself feeling soft or agreeing with Copia and suddenly scowls and is all grumpy.

Secondo is tentatively back on his feet in two weeks-- he's still a little weak but at least he can move around which he's grateful for since being in bed for so long was driving him nuts.

At first Copia kind of tries to help Secondo a bit but after a few days they begin to fall back into their old dynamic and antics.

However. The first time Secondo tries to make Copia jealous, pulling you to him with his arm around your waist and slotting his leg between yours, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear and whisper things that make you blush-- the first time that happens after Secondo gets better, Copia finds himself not puffing up with jealous, not bitter and huffy. No, he's not jealous.

He's turned on.

He splutters something along the lines of what he'd usually say before taking off. Secondo thinks he's storming away because he's jealous, but in reality Copia just doesn't want either of you to see the tent in his pants.

(You and Secondo think he's gone off to sulk but he's really just gone to find somewhere private to take care of his new problem)

Copia tries to carry on as usual, play his part of their little game. In the evening when Secondo is sitting by the fire and reading, Copia gently pushes you against the couch and kisses you dirtily using so much tongue while his hands come up to ruck up your shirt. You let out a soft moan and Secondo's head shoots up.

His expression is a stony one at first, before he really takes in the scene. And fuck do you and Copia make such a pretty picture. He's surprised to find that he's not jealous, he doesn't feel that red hot anger and rage anymore when he sees the two of you together.

He isn't embarrassed like Copia, so he sets his book to the side to loosen his pants.

Needless to say, while Copia and Secondo don't particularly talk about it, soon their little game against each other turns to mutual moments and 'activities' with the three of you involved at the same time.

Sometimes Secondo will sit back to watch you and Copia together, and sometimes Copia likes to watch you with Secondo.

It all comes to a head one day when intruders flood Secondo's tower and try to grab you. Both him and Copia crush them but not without Copia sustaining a bad injury. You're the first one to rush to him, but Secondo is the one to scoop him up and immediately head to the bedroom-- his own bedroom. He fusses over Copia's wounds and patches him up as much as he can.

That night is spent with the two of you curled around Copia protectively and when Copia wakes in the morning, you're both just as relieved.

Days together begin to turn to years and soon Secondo makes Copia a liar of his own underneath his tower. The three of you still sleep together every night but Copia is ecstatic to have his own space and domain.

There's plenty of space for the three of you and you take care of each other. It's not always easy but you'll always make it work.

Things are good, perfect even and though Secondo and Copia still argue from time to time, they always forgive each other and make up with gentle kisses and warm embraces.

[galkyrie]

@a-commas-a-pause

Jason could do this. After the literal weeks of being yelled at by the regular commentors on his recipe blog to buck up and ask the nice man who fixed his janky-ass photography out, he was finally going to do it.

It'd been about a year since Tim had stumbled onto his taking said poor photos of his creations on his phone, and, upon hearing the explanation, had volunteered his time to help with the pictures. Well- volunteered wasn't exactly the right word, since Tim kinda just declared that was how it was gonna be.

Jason had been less prickly about it when he'd actually seen the results of letting Tim do his thing. The photos often came out better than the food, each one looking ready to end up in some expensive coffee table book.

And Tim agreed to be paid in dessert, so it wasn't like he'd been losing out by letting him in on the ritual. The photos weren't even the part he did for himself, anyway.

So he got great, magazine quality photoshoots of his creations for the low cost of sharing a slice or two of what he'd made. It really felt like he was the one benefitting the most out of this arrangement- his baking wasn't even that good. It was just- stress relief, the kind of meditation that came with cleaning his guns or building a bomb- except he got to eat the results.

It was an arrangement that suited him just fine, for the past year. He'd even mentioned "camera-guy" in his posts, from explaining why his photography suddenly stopped looking like amateur shit and jovially talking shit about the lengths he went to get the perfect shot- Tim became a bit of a regular on his blog.

He hadn't realized how much until six months in, when a couple of his regular followers had begun...speculating about the man's intentions with his help. Jason found himself in the comment section of his own blog defending Tim's honor and insisting that no, "camera-guy" was not putting the moves on him in some elaborate display of skill- he was just like that. Generous with his time and effort and deeply dedicated to his friends, eager to help wherever he could. Tim just- he cared so much and so deeply about the people he cared about getting what they wanted- it never had to be romantic for him to be willing to help.

It wasn't until a few months later, when one of his regulars had joked about him being more effusive about the way the little lunatic had crouched on his barstool and angled his whole body to get the perfect shot of the shiny tart glaze he'd finally perfected, that he realized it...might be, a little, romantic. On his own part, anyways. Someone usually doesn't tend to wax poetic about the way someone's bangs fall over their eyes or their tongue pokes out of the side of their mouth when they're focusing, when they're not paying too much attention to that someone's mouth.

When that same commenter had followed up with a remark about seeing where that kinda focus and attention to detail would manifest in the bedroom, joking that Jason should drop his number so they could find out-

He lost the last shred of deniability. Seeing red, he blocked the user before he could think too hard about tracking down their IP and paying them a visit in person- and insane overreaction to someone joking about his "camera-guy" on the internet. He eventually unblocked them, and had to admit his followers might not be far off about his feelings.

It was easier to admit to a bunch of strangers, anyway.

Unfortunately, doing so had only encouraged the small group. Hell, they'd started picking apart his old posts for evidence that "camera-guy" liked him back- they started making bets on whether or when he would finally ask the guy out-

It was getting out of hand. If he had to hear that the way to a man's heart was his stomach so he was already basically dating him one more time-

Hence the plan. Which he'd formulated in a panic after discovering he'd missed Tim's birthday by opening the evening edition- make Tim a birthday cake, and see if he can get enough intel on his favorite foods to throw together a dinner- then ask him out.

He took a deep breath as he heard the familiar sounds of Tim letting himself in his front door.

He could totally do this.