#if I help with something it’s ‘thank you dear’

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello, could you make a viktor x reader fanfic (where reader is someone very affectionate, and is very close to heimerdinger) please and thank you very much (⁠^⁠^⁠)

Soft Seams

Viktor was new to Piltover. New to all these things. Walking down the cobblestone streets even felt like something he shouldn’t be doing, something he would be yelled at for. However, with the head of the council walking with him, chatting along with a speedy, chipper voice no one dared to say a word. No matter how obvious it was that Viktor was not from Piltover.

His makeshift cane hit the ground with a soft, hallowed clack. His bag, well worn and covered in patchwork, was soft beneath his thumb which kept running over it.

“I believe you will like the owner,” Heimerdinger said. “There’s not a person they’ve yet to win over! Ah, here we are.”

For the first time since meeting this odd man, Viktor was not the one to open the door. At least, not for Heimerdinger. The door was split into two sections, a section with a door knob that was at an average person’s height and a section carved in that was more suited for someone of the yordle decent.

“Hello,” Heimerdinger said as he walked through the door.

It swung closed behind him. Viktor waited a moment, as the door swung inward, before opening it.

“Heimerdinger,” a voice from further inside rang out, “is that you?”

Viktor looked around the shop. There were fabrics draped over the walls. Mannequins sporting different types of attire ranging from more casual to extraordinarily expensive. A couple racks were on the floor sporting similar clothing. Several table displays were flittered in as well.

“Yes, indeed, my dear!”

A head poked out from behind one of the displays. You had bright eyes and a warm smile.

“It’s been too long!” you said as you raced forward.

You knelt onto the ground to give the yordle a hug. You swayed him back and forth as he wrapped his arms around you.

“And who is this with you?” you asked.

“This is Viktor,” Heimerdinger introduced. “A young man with a brilliant mind who I’ve had the pleasure of meeting recently.”

“Hello,” Viktor said.

He took your hand as Heimerdinger gave him your name. You surprised him by covering his hand with both of yours. They were soft and warm in comparison to his own.

“I’m honored to meet you,” you said.

You have his hand a light squeeze. He was convinced you may actually mean it.

“The honor is mine. The Professor speaks highly of you,” he replied.

You smiled, looking down. A small flush came to your face. Your eyes went to the yordle who met your eyes head on with a smile of his own. He was rocking back on his heels as he did so.

“We’re here to inquire about procuring some new attire for Viktor,” Heimerdinger said. “With such a brilliant mind, I’ve request his assistance with some of my projects.”

You nodded. Something in your demeanor told Viktor that you were excited, ready.

“Alright, why don’t you come to the back with me and we’ll get started,” you told him with a gesture to follow.

Viktor’s eyes went to the Professor. However, the man was already following beside you. He wasted no time to being chatting away.

You laughed at something the man had said. “You would mind standing here so I may take your measurements?” you asked with laughter still on your tongue.

Viktor stood on the platform that was indicated. Looking at himself in the multiple mirrors, he couldn’t help but feel more like he did not belong.

His clothes were worn and stitched together with hopes, not talent. In direct comparison to Heimerdinger (who sat perched on a chair perfectly tailored to his height) and you (who wore a perfectly fitted, unstained white sleeveless shirt with black, high waisted pants), he was noticeably less well off.

Although, the point of this visit was so when he began to accompany Heimerdinger everyday, no one would notice.

You took a measuring tape and began to wrap it around various parts of his body. Every time, you took note of the measurements. When you were done, you dragged a chair to the platform.

You patted it twice. He took the indication to sit.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, pulling it back and away from his face.

Instinctively he found himself sitting up straighter. His eyes went a bit wider. He could feel his lip begin to pull down in confusion.

Your face went beside his own as you looked at him in the mirror. He could feel your breath against his left cheek.

You nodded to yourself as you grabbed several patches of differently colored squares. His hair fell back into place.

You placed the patches onto his shoulder. “Alright, that’s about what I thought,” you said. “You have a warm undertone in your skin but it’s a bit muted instead of very bright. So, the colors that will look best on you will follow that pattern. Instead of the bright red of the academy, I’d suggest a more maroon tone of red, something deeper and richer.

“I think you would look beautiful in greens especially,” you continued on. “With the golden hues in your eyes and the warmth in your skin, something like a sage or olive green would really make those features pop.”

You thumbed through the color patches. You found two greens. A bright, saturated green was on his right side. A more muted, grey toned green was on his left.

“See how the brighter green makes you look more washed out, verses the muted which really brings attention to all the golden in your eyes and skin?” you asked.

He didn’t expect you to actually look at him for an answer. When your eyes met his in the mirror, he found himself nodding.

“So, when we’re looking at any clothing, general rule of thumb would be to go with something more muted,” you told him. “Muted doesn’t necessarily mean dull. Soft blues, purples, pinks, and greens are all beautiful colors with varying degrees of intensity. But dusted colors will generally look better on you than something that’s pure pigment. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Now, fabrics. All I need for you to do on this next part is tell me which ones fell the most comfortable.”

The rest of the visit went smoothly and fairly fast. You all said your farewells and you told Viktor to come back sometime within the next three to five days.

He did. This time alone.

You greeted Viktor with the same kindness that you had before. You rushed him to the back so he could try on the clothing you’d picked out or made for him.

First was the uniform. A pair of black dress shoes. Grey pants that were looser at the thighs and tapered in at his calves. A fitted, maroon button up covered by a cream and dusty blue vest with a matching cream tie tucked in.

You pulled at the vest to make sure it fitted nicely. “And if there’s anything which needs to be changed, don’t hesitate to ask. The point of clothing is for you to be comfortable.”

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you,” Viktor said.

You smiled at him in the mirror. “Of course.”

There were several other variations of the same uniform. Outside of that were different colored vests, button ups, and trousers. Some for function and others for comfort. Viktor had never worn such soft and comfortable fabrics in his life.

There was one outfit in particular that you seemed to be excited about. When he put it on, he actually understood why.

It was extremely comfortable. Soft and warm. A cream colored turtleneck. It was tucked into a pair of sage green pants that felt almost like velvet but warmer and more gentle to the touch. The brown vest was made of a similar fabric. All of it came together with a sage green jacket, the same fabric as the turtleneck on the outside but the interior was lined with cream fur.

“You look very handsome,” you told him.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were brought to attention and his skin seemed to almost glow. He was inclined to agree.

[its-a-me-mango]

THANK YOU ALL FOR AN AMAZING YEAR! HERE'S TO MANY MORE!

Alllright, final thing to close off today, and what better than with a great big THANK YOU to everyone for sticking with me for a whole year! Regardless of if you’ve been around since I first joined or if you only just followed me today, thank you so much for your support of me and my work. Knowing there are so many fantastic and wonderful individuals who all enjoy what I make is just indescribable, I get to wake up and enjoy creating things I love for the series I love so dearly all while so many amazing people enjoy what I make too. I really can’t put into words how thankful I am for everyone who follows me but genuinely from the bottom of my heart, thank you, thank you all for an amazing year and here’s hoping for many more to come!

Now, I do have a few special dedications to a few certain individuals, if I didn’t get the chance to include you PLEASE don’t think that I don’t value you in any way! There were so many cool and talented people that I wanted to thank but I simply didn’t have time to do so! You are all so important to me and it does kill me a little that I can’t thank everyone, but I am just one guy at the end of the day so again please don’t take it personally, I am still so thankful for everyone and I want you to know this. <3

ANYWAY LONG ASS BLOCK OF TEXT UNDER THE READ MORE

So, in no order in particular

@lizaluvsthis @shygirl4991 @b-r-i-n-g-x - I’m putting you all together as one because I always see you guys working as a group so it feels wrong to split you guys up lol. You were all some of the first people I ever saw in the SMG4 fandom and your contributions inspired me so much to make my own stuff too! Everything you guys make always has so much heart and soul put into it, Brewing Romance, Split into 3’s, Gay Ogres, they’re all some of the first projects I remember seeing and for that I wanna thank you guys for motivating me to make and create my own things within this fandom! Even if you guys aren’t as active now or have moved on from those projects, I still hold them dear to me so keep making and creating because you guys are all so amazing at it! <3

@mothsbakery - Moth my beloved friend, I don’t know where to start, when I first got into SMG4, I was so worried about sharing it with my friends because I was worried it would somehow get turned against me in some way (blame that damn trauma lol), so having you take a passing interest in it was such a major relief to me. I’m so glad I’ve been able to sit down with you and watch the few episodes that we have because they’ve been so much fun! I’m so glad that we’re friends even after all these years. I know I’m not always the best at keeping in touch but I do genuinely appreciate your friendship and all that we’ve done together. Please keep making and creating and enjoying what you love, seeing you come to my DM’s with your newest musical piece is always such a joy to listen to and it’s been so wonderful to watch you improve over the years! Keep being amazing Moth, I’ll chat to you soon I promise! <3

@strange0-0storm - STOOOORM!!! (POINTING AT YOU POINTING AT YOU) FREAK!!!!/J I’m kidding lol, Storm I am so glad I’ve gotten the chance to talk with you, even if it's brief, you are so fun to talk to that I can’t wait to get the chance to chat with you again about OC’s or just anything really! Your work is always so yummy, whether it's SMG4, Gravity Falls, Popee The Performer, and more, your art is always just so full of character and it just makes me wanna keep doing what I’m doing and it helps me not worry about branching out at some point to something else. No matter what I will always come back to your work because it's so amazing and it’s even better knowing it’s made but such an equally amazing person, stay awesome Storm! (also RhythmDoctor 4 life they should kiss and make out more JHBBSGHBSGH) <3

@bluesbox - Blue! Dude you are so freaking cool I cannot put it into words, not only is your work fantastic and such a joy to interact with, but you’re also so dedicated to characters lore and interactions that I can’t help but wanna be just like that! I’ll never forget when you first dropped the TSB lore presentation that shit was SO WILD, knowing there's someone who's so invested in other peoples OC’s (including my own!) to such an extent is honestly so amazing, and it really pushes me to invest more time into my own work! Knowing there’s someone out there who genuinely takes so much interest in it is so uplifting, so thank you for always wanting to know more about what I make as well as everyone else, we need more amazing people like you Blue, keep being you! (also PS, the way you give Mango glasses is probably my favourite thing someone has given him, it makes me so happy to see every time, don’t tell anyone shhhhh) <3

@libbytwq - LIBBY, LIBBY OMG I don’t think I’ve ever met another SMG4 fan who just gets the same sense of humor as me so well, I love being terminally on Tumblr and having someone else who is also terminally on Tumblr, it’s so refreshing lmao! Lore not only are you an amazing person to talk to, you are also so insanely talented to match, all of your work has so much charm and passion put into it that I can just sense it with every piece, I always want to know more with your characters like I NEED the full SMGL:E lore or else I will explode and die, that’s how good you are at getting people invested in your work! You’re so great at creating interesting and engaging characters/stories that it motivates me so much with my own work. You have so much love for what you do it’s so wonderful to see, please keep creating forever and always because your work is such an absolute joy to see. I love getting the chance to chat with you so much and I can’t wait to chat with you again, thank you for being such an amazing friend Libby! <3

@hamlos - Hamlos, your work is truly incredible. I really can’t express it enough, it’s so dynamic and flexible in such a beautiful way, everything you make is just so amazing and that's just talking about your art itself, the characters you have are so interesting I always want to know more about them, especially Cardiac I seriously love him so much and having him paired with Mango is so wonderful, they really go together so well! I’ve never had anyone go so crazy (positive) over my characters before and It’s so amazing to see, every time you come to me with your amazing work it’s always such a nice thing to see! I know I am not always the best at responding but I do always see and read everything you send me and it always leaves me with a big smile on my face. Even if you’re not super into SMG4 right now, thank you for all that you’ve done and all that you’ve made for me, HeartBeet will always have a special place in my heart and I hope it does for you too, they are gay after all lol. <3

@neo91502 @hexsie @aquaproductions - Grouping you all together even though you all couldn’t be more unique and individual, every single one of you is so special and amazing to talk to, I legit get so excited any time one of you joins a VC with me because all of you are so fun to hang out with for so many reasons! Neo omg you are honestly such a nice person to chat to and be around, you’re always so fun to hang out with and you’ve convinced me to sit down one day and listen to Epic the Musical because every time you go crazy over the word Epic, I can’t help but find it so cute lol. Nova your obsession with Hex3 is so sweet and I’m genuinely glad you’re having so much fun with it, seeing you go on rambling about your OC’s will always be such a joy to see and you know what yes one day I will draw Hex3 just for you, gimme a second though (dies first /j). And Aqua, I had no idea how much of a sweetheart you were to talk to, you are honestly so cool and I’m so glad to have you in my DM’s sending me amazing fanart that you know I’ll like, thank you so much for being so awesome and I’m giving you platonic smooches right back at ya so watch out!!! All of you are again so amazing and I can’t wait to keep chatting with all of you! <3

MY BELOVED WHO SHAN’T BE NAMED BUT I KNOW YOU’RE READING THIS!!! - Hai babe, listen, I can’t believe the whole time you’ve been dating me I’ve been an SMG4 fan, that must be so embarrassing to you lol /j but thank you so much forever and always for sticking with me. You are truly the light of my life, I treasure every moment we spend together and I am waiting for the future to come so that I can spend it with you forever and always. Thank you for not only indulging in my interests with me, but for enjoying me for who I am, everytime you call me cute for getting giddy over SMG4 it honestly makes my heart flutter and it reminds me of why I love you so much, I wouldn’t be who I am without you and I hope you can say the same thing for me. I cannot wait to get the chance to see you again in person, I need to kiss you sloppy style soooooo bad it's making me bark and growl grrr grrr bARK BARK BARK anyway I love you so much and I always will. (I will forever kiss you for getting me Smug I can’t believe you got him, he’s like a fucked up and evil son to me) <3

@ominus-potato @theartistisme43 @coralalala64 - Grouping you all together even though I have different things to say about all of you, but regardless, all of you are such amazingly talented people that I’d love to get to chat with you all properly one day, even if I’ve talked with you guys a bit it’s not enough! I’d love to get to know you guys better at some point lol. Ominus your work is just so good I can’t help but feel happy anytime I see it. I promise one day we will meet at a convention, I’m so mad I missed you once I won’t let it happen again! Cantro, your work is incredible!!! Every time I see it I’m so amazed with what you’ve made that it just gets me excited to see what else you can create, I am manifesting with all my strength that if you do ever decide to apply as a SMG4 machinima artist, that you get it because god damn you deserve it! And Coral, THE CREATURE CREATOR!!! I love your lil creatures so much, and OMG you have to teach me how to do such amazing pencil work, your work always inspires me so much and I’m so glad I’ve gotten the chance to chat with you a lil, your gif collection is truly frightening but in the best way possible. Again all of you are so amazing so please keep doing what you’re best at! <3

@tiredsmashbros - Tomm, Mr Tiredsmashbros, holy shit where do I even start with you. First of all, I would probably not be thanking half the people in this piece if not for you, I know how scary setting up a server was for you but I will forever be so thankful that you did. Finally getting the chance to chat with not only you, but so many amazing people in the SMG4 fandom has been an absolute joy and I am forever thankful for you for creating such an open and accepting space, you and Radiant are seriously so awesome for all the work you’ve put into that place. It’s from your server that i’ve learnt how wonderful and generous you are as a person, I really cannot think of anyone kinder than you Tomm, the way you always have an essay planned for every piece of fanart you get, from just your overall positive attitude, I am so glad I’ve finally gotten the chance to meet you after just being a fan of your work for so long. Your work has been such an inspiration to me and you’ve always been someone I wanted to chat with and the fact that I am now is!!! Crazy!!! I can’t believe you were scared of me at one point lol. Anyway thank you Tomm for being such a fantastic friend overall, I need to know TSB’s lore right now, can you whisper it to me I promise I’ll keep it a secret, regardless stay awesome dude, you deserve nothing but joy and happiness forever and always. Qwah Tuh (also Burgerfruit beloved, they should get weirder /j) <3

@doodledev1l - Doodle!!!!! Okay I know this sounds weird but genuinely finding another British SMG4 fan has been so refreshing, not only that but you’re super fun to talk to and be around so it’s even better! Getting the chance to hang out and chat with you is always so fun, I love getting to hear what you’re working on for uni and I always hope that it goes well for you, I know how stressful it can be lol. Regardless, I know you’ll do amazing because I’ve seen how dedicated and talented you are when it comes to your work, again I hope the rest of uni goes well for you because you deserve it, we gotta end your bad luck streak somehow lol. Thank you for being such an amazing person to chat and hang out with, keep up the amazing work dude, I’ll get you a tescos meal deal one day I promise. <3

PHEW, THAT’S EVERYONE, again thank you all so much for sticking by my side for a year! Doesn’t matter what time you showed up, I will always be thankful to know all of you, keep being awesome I love you all. I die now

Mango <3

[kurishiri]

Mystery Bag 2025 ┊ Team 3: The adult nobles

William (bi-stander), Elbert (“Al pick me up I’m scared” Victorian child), Victor (bisexual mess #1), Darius (bisexual mess #2)

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the mystery bag 2025 sale is a story set sale where the guys are put into teams and participate in a relay event thing. this is one of three teams! you can read the prologue, translated by @.judesmoonbeauty, here.

— cw: maybe a near-death experience.

—— Sky ——

——Group 3’s round: William, Elbert, Victor, Darius.

—— City ——

Victor: Seeing this lineup, I take it we’re ‘Team Nobles’!

William: I find it intriguing how it has a pleasant and genuine ring when you are the one saying it.

Darius: I see you are magnanimous, fun, and wonderful today as well, William.

William: Thank you for your kind words. I think you’re quite wonderful yourself too, Darius.

Elbert: …What are you two to each other?

Darius: I’m just very, veeery interested in William here, that’s all.

City girls: Lord Victor, you’re wonderful today as well~~!

Victor: Oh dear, thank you for your vocal support.

City girls: Lord Elbert~! Please blow a kiss~~!

Elbert: ...Blow...a kiss? (O_O)

William: There seems to be more spectators than usual.

Victor: Since it’s the first time we’re holding this selection for the Happy Boy. It’s natural then for there to be many spectating eyes.

V: Besides, did you know? We four are the strongest contenders, I’d say.

V: First up, William!

V: Those sheer prowess in your legs, and your peerless beauty! And by far, I know very well in these great many years I have stood by your side, just how swift of a runner you are.

Darius: How about you stop putting William up on a pedestal? (*^‿^*)

Victor: And next up, Elbert. There’s not a soul that’s seen you running before, but I hold high expectations for you!

Darius: What a wishy-washy basis.

Victor: And then the leader of Vogel, Darius. Same as above.

Darius: ...What?

Victor: And finally, there’s me!

V: With long, flowing jet-black locks, and these elegant and beauteous eyes. And not to mention——

Darius: William, let’s pay no mind to all his nonsense and prepare ourselves. If you were to get hurt anywhere, that would for sure be a problem.

Victor: Now stooop right there. Darius, I’ve been thinking this for a while now, but...

V: Have you by any chance fallen in love with me!?

Darius: And why do you say that?

Victor: Why, because there are times when you just can’t help but tease the one you like, you know. I see, I see it now~~ I hadn’t realized at all!

Darius: This is exactly what I despise about you.

Victor: What the— despise!? (O_O)

William: Haha, I see you two are getting along quite well.

Elbert: ...They are?

Steering committee: To everyone in group 3, there is something we must inform you about.

Steering committee: We do apologize, but due to mechanical difficulties, there is a one hour delay.

Victor: Oh my, one hour, you say? That’s quite a hefty amount of time.

Young man in steering committee: Lord Victor, the Queen’s Aide, Lord Rex and Lord Elbert. And the personage over there...

Victor: That would be Lord Darius Vogel, the leader of Vogel.

Young man in steering committee: Oh— then it’s all the more reason we can’t afford to keep you waiting in such a place.

Young man in steering committee: Please wait over here until the start time. Well then, if you’ll follow me.

—— Café ——

William: A table just for us, and warm tea as well. Very considerate of them.

W: ...However, Elbert. I would refrain from putting your hands on your cup of tea.

W: That is, if you do not wish to collapse, just as Snow White had when she ate the poisoned apple, and get cozy with the bed.

Elbert: ...Ahh, so it was like that.

Victor: It was like what? (O_O)

Elbert: You two gave off an air of bloodlust. For a moment’s time.

Darius: Ohh, so I see.

D: Basically, there is a target that concealed himself in the shadows of this lively event... is that right?

D: But why did they choose to sneak in a dose of poison for Elbert then?

Victor: Our target this time is a criminal who has spoken out against the authority of Her Majesty the Queen.

V: And so, what if a corpse turned up during this event?

Elbert: It is highly possible Her Majesty, who has planned this event, will be faced with criticism.

Victor: And what’s important is who becomes the corpse then. It has to be someone whose corpse would cause a ruckus.

V: In other words, the perfect fit for such a role would be the one who snags the victory, and bonus points if they are of a high standing.

William: That said, Victor, while a perfect candidate to cause a ruckus among the people, would be too unabashed of a choice, as he is the Queen’s Aide.

W: And as I am written in a very positive light in newspapers, interestingly enough, there is a risk of facing retaliation.

W: As for Darius... targeting him would be an international problem in and of itself, so he is out of the question.

W: That would then leave Elbert. That would be why the possibility of your tea being poisoned is nothing to laugh at.

W: ——Or have we erred in our guess in any way, young man?

Young man in standing committee: Wha...

Young man in standing committee: I didn’t...

William: Your hands are trembling, and your lips resemble the sea in how blue they are.

Victor: And besides, we’ve already collected all the evidence, Christopher Olcott.

Young man in standing committee: ...How do you know my name...

Victor: You are a part of a revolution group that preaches against Her Majesty the Queen, and you were given the mission of assassinating Elbert here with poison.

V: I am also very much in the know of your personal history and family... care to lend an ear?

Young man in standing committee: ...gh.

Young man in steering committee: E-even if that’s the case! There’s something that doesn’t add up in what you’re saying!

William: Doesn’t add up, you say?

Young man in steering committee: If I really wanted to point criticizing eyes at Her Majesty the Queen, I wouldn’t kill any participant in the preliminary round.

Young man in steering committee: I would wait for the finals. I would kill on the most anticipated day.

Young man in steering committee: That would cause even more of a ruckus, wouldn’t it.

William: Yes, exactly. I did figure as much.

W: However——you could not.

W: After all, the birthday of your boss’ beloved daughter, whom he very much dotes on, falls on the same day as the finals, right?

W: And that was why you were ordered to carry it out by today, with no exceptions. Or am I wrong?

Young man in steering committee: ...!

Darius: Looks like that’s the end game for you.

Victor: You’re still young, so if it’s now, you can still turn over a new leaf. That is, if you are able to choose that path for yourself.

William: Indeed. All this happened before the tea could even cool, after all.

—— City ——

Darius: Based on today’s events, the group will be condemned at a later date for their repeated misdeeds...

D: What a magnificent way to plant fear of condemnation, William. I’d expect nothing less.

D: Oh, especially that ‘all this happened before the tea could even cool’ line.

D: Could you say that one more time, pretty please?

Victor: ‘ALL THIS HAPPENED BEFORE THE TEA COULD EVEN COOL’~~! (⌒▽⌒)☆

Darius: Not you. (눈_눈)

Elbert: ..There was something that made me curious.

Victor: Ask away, Elbert.

Elbert: Darius.

E: Since when were you aware William and Victor were going to carry out the condemnation?

Darius: ‘When’?

Elbert: When they revealed the target this time, you did not seem very surprised to me.

Darius: Hehe, look at you, so the Earl Greetia does have his wits about him after all. Color me surprised.

D: That said, it would be a stretch for me to know who the target was, you know? I just had a feeling there was something going on, I guess.

D: Victor, this is what you said.

—— Flashback ——

Victor: Besides, did you know? We four are the strongest contenders, I’d say.

—— End flashback ——

Darius: All the members of Crown and Vogel are participating.

D: And yet, there you were, touting about how we were the strongest contenders. That gave me a feeling.

D: You guys were tampering with information from the start. All to oust that young man.

Victor: ......... (･ᴗ･)

Darius: Indeed, I really do despise you. And how sharply cunning you are.

Victor: I take it that when you say ‘despise,’ it is a form of your love, but...

V: If you really do insist that you despise me, then all you need to do is win against me in the match that’s about to start in a few minutes.

V: That is, if you can win.

William: Look at you, Victor. I’ll have you know that I would hate to lose as well?

Elbert: ...I also have no intention of losing.

E: Kate is cheering, after all.

Steering committee: Thank you for waiting. Group 3, we will begin the round.

William: Now then, how about we enjoy this match to the absolute fullest?

Fin.

team 1 team 2 team 3

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Jan 6th

~*~

1. So in the book, xue yang is younger than wei wuxian, like he and Xiao xingchen were supposed to be closer to wwx's son/nephew's age. So, itmf stories where xue yang is actually wwx's son (they do share physical similarities) adopted or bio. Or at least related to each other in some way. Imagine - xue yang is wwx's long lost son or cousin or something. Or things similar to "the kids are OK (I think)" by gosamerglimmer on ao3, where xy wwx & mxy are all cousins descended from lost xue sect

Coincidentally… (Or, if you ask Xue Yang, purposefully with the intent of slander and defamation!) by pipip (G, 2k, WWX & XY, YLLZ WWX, Wangxian is only implied, XY is a Brat, Gremlin XY, MXY Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Happiness, XY Deserves Better, XY is a Little Shit, XY is Bad at Feelings, Everyone Loves WWX)

🔒Til Death Do Us Part by Thyone14 (Not Rated, 73k, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, WWX Needs a Hug, Protective LWJ, Soft WangXian, POV LWJ, POV Alternating, No Smut, POV WWX)

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2. ITMF JGY or the cultivation world finding out that the Yilling Patriarch's weakness is LWJ and they're not above using him to take down WWX. It could be LXC pretending to be LWJ to lure WWX out like in 'bloom unto the ground' by tattletold or anything, I'm just looking for fics where everyone is aware of LWJ being WWX's weakness and uses it to their advantage

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3. heyo, Are there Any fics where the Juniors witness Wangxian sweetness? Like that's it. They're just witnessing their beautiful relationship but also angsty moments? Please let me know, please and thank you and have a nice new years 😁 @yasssbassss

Dear Hanguang-Jun by cavaleira (M, 8k, WangXian, ZhuiLing, Fluff, Established Relationship, Humor, Post-Canon)

🔒 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, LJY’s sense of justice, OYZZ’s sense of romance, Featuring a surprise appearance by WWX’s oft-absent sense of shame, Look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, And it’s not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, LJY rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon, The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

can anybody find me (somebody to love) by stiltonbasket (G, 2k, WangXian, Slice of Life, Post-Canon, Married WangXian, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Domestic Fluff, Introspection, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Happy Ending)

Over and out by baxia (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Junior Quartet-centric, Junior Ensemble-centric, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Teacher WWX, Teacher LWJ, Married WangXian, Established Relationship, POV LJY, Future zhuiyi)

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4. ITMF request please—any Wangxian horse stories? Like they meet at a riding club or WWX gets to have a favorite horse or their swords are horses? I read the one where he helped save CR bc of LWJ’s request and now I just want more of him with horses. 🐴 tysm!!

Légèreté by perkynurples (T, 65k, WangXian, Modern au, Horse riding, Swords as horses, Crack treated seriously, Friends to Lovers)

Nothing to rec, but I was wondering which fic prompted #4 :) (in general would like it if requesters specified which fic they mean if they make a reference to something)

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5. Any fics that have the Yiling laozu and reincarnated Wei Ying in Mo Xuanyu’s body in the same time period and Lahn Zhan’s reaction to both? I read one called Me Myself and Lan Wanji by Melon and A Tide of Teo Seas by Occulting, so was looking for more or similar fics. Thanks! @toyft2

🔒 Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar by masked (T, 13k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Fluff, Humor, Time Travel, 5+1 Things, Jealous WWX, the Impeccable Trust between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, POV Outsider, everyone is Thirsty for Hanguang-jun as one tends to be)

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6. Hi! Happy New Year! I hope 2025 is a blessed year for you all!

For ITMF: any fics that include WangXian wedding where JC is there as WWX’s family. @bitemepotter

Thank you for all your hard work!

With Absolute Splendor by Lise (T, 43k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Wedding planning, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Complicated Relationships, Angst with a happy ending)

For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, Canonical Character Death, Mentions of Rape, not explicit but definitely referenced, Time Travel, Not Everyone Dies au, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, WWX/babie tendencies, WQ is a queen in any reality, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, WWX finds new ways to be oblivious, seriously it surprised even us, Для нас обоих (И время лишь бумажная луна) by nomuad, [Podfic] Cold read of For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by kisahawklin)

A Lifetime of It (Please, and Thank You) by misscam (M, 5k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, JC & WWX, Wedding, Humor, Fluff, Angst, some naughtiness, Switching)

💖 Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 11k, WangXian, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, the make people respect WWX agenda, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Soft WangXian, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, a very very small amount of smut, also a possessed squirrel, El trabajo es bueno si lo quieres by evirtual3, [Podfic] Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts, Le feu qui gagne la rivière by Silu_chan, [Podfic of] The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by exmanhater)

The long road home by dea_liberty (M, 9k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Found Families, Happy Ending, a lot of feelings, Epilogue, Marriage, so many feelings, Some angst, (Русский) The long road home by rootofallevil)

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7. Hello! Good morning/afternoon/evening! For I'm In The Mood For: fics where LWJ thinks that WWX rejected him (after confessing to him) or that WWX only calls him a friend and he just accepted that they could be nothing more.

Only for WWX to find out that LWJ's crush rejected him or that LWJ is heartbroken and tries to find out who rejected LWJ.

LWJ could distance himself from WWX or they continue staying friends. I could definitely go with either Angst or Humor. Thank you :D

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending, r/relationships [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

Some of You by tangerinechar (M, 60k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi Modern AU, Social Media, Actor AU, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Love Confessions, Matchmaking, Light Angst)

How Wei Ying Went from Oblivious Idiot to Shameless Boyfriend in Three Days by misscam (T, 5k, WangXian, College/University, Modern AU, Getting Together, Humor)

Far Away You Are by cqlorphan (E, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, cleared up by juniors ensemble, Explicit Consent, Bottom LWJ. Top WWX, but i'm sure they switch about it, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff and Smut, with a little angst - as a treat)

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8. Hello and happy holidays!! ❤️✨️

ITMF Wei Ying returning from the BM not as a normal human, but changed. Like, maybe he A) becomes a fierce corpse (either sentient/semi/ordinary), B) a ghost/spirit/ghost fire, or C) he is "reborn" or remade there into another form entirely (some horror creature/a demonic animal).

Also peferrably with Wei Ying dying before being thrown into the BM (maybe he is not even thrown there, like in Grief Kindly Stopped by ShanaStoryteller), so the Wens and everyone else are sure he is dead, angst and grief following. Or maybe he disappears like in canon, and later after his return it is found out that he is not alive/fully human anymore.

Thank you everyone! @shellennium

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding) Wei Ying dies after being thrown into the Burial Mounds but he returns "other."

🔒between the shadow and the soul by Reverie (cl410) (M, 22k, WangXian, SanLi, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family, Dark WWX, Feral WWX, sorta, Memory Loss, Magic, Magical Realism, Protective LWJ, Protective JC, Protective JYL, Grief, BAMF WWX, POV Alternating, Happy Ending) I think between the shadow and the soul also works but Wei Ying doesn't exactly die in this one.

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9. Hello! I wanted to know if there are any fics where Wei Wuxian had enough and snapped at everyone including Lan Wangji @yuukikonnos-world

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10. Hii - first off: obligatory thank you so much for the work you do in this fandom!! (I feel like you get this all the time but also not often enough: so just: thank you thank you thank you!!)

For the next itmf - I was wondering if you all have any specific favorites or have a compilation list of fics along the lines of “character watches the show/reads the book” whatever; not picky on what character watches or is focused on!

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, CQL Verse, Golden core reveal, Fix-it of sorts, Angst with a happy ending)

💖 Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not rated, 841k, wangxian, watching the series, fix-it of sorts, bamf!wwx, WIP)

The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by emma_screams (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama)

Song of Joy and Regrets by HelloKitten (Not Rated, 134k, WIP, WangXian, Angst, Self-Harm, Child Abuse, Time Travel Fix-it)

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11. For itmf, I'm craving some wangxian who are reuniting after being separated for whatever reason and one of them is shocked to find out the other now has a child and there are big feelings about the whole thing. Ty!

estuaries by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 34k, WangXian, Modern, Breakup/makeup, breakup mostly happens off-screen, Pining while fucking, Single Dad WWX, brief mention of chronic illness, Angst with a Happy Ending)

i guess i’ll have to change my plan by darjeelinh (E, 42k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, First Kiss, First Time, Inspired by Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004), soft rom-com vibes, One Night Stands, but not really, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, they both have demi vibes in this fight me about it, Misunderstandings, Separations, Reunions, WangXian canon Elopement™️ shenanigans, now with art)

plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by fleurdeliser (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, Car Accidents, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Non-Explicit References to Injuries and Death, References to Addiction, Doctors & Physicians, Falling In Love, soft romance, background 3zun, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by knight_tracer, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by exmanhater)

my dreams are playing softer now by fleurdeliser (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Drunken Shenanigans, First Dates)

❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Single Parent WWX, Homophobia, LQR’s A+ Parenting, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, idiots to lovers, car seats as an expression of love, literal plot bunnies, Fluff, some not-so-light Angst, the inherent eroticism of boning down while receiving free childcare)

Lifelong Confidant by saved (E, 42k, wangxian, modern, Fluff and Angst, Past Character Death, Families of Choice, Explicit Sexual Content, Idiots in Love, Misunderstandings, Oblivious WWX, playing fast and loose with basic real life things, references to past alcoholism/substance abuse, Alcohol)

Unstrictly Ballroom by Ariaste (T, 47k, WangXian, background SongXiao, Modern AU, Everyone’s alive, the gang defeats systemic heteronormativity, Stripper AU, competitive ballroom dance AU, really stupid misunderstandings, Yearning, Mutual Pining, the wrist grab, Erotic Handholding, [Podfic] Unstrictly Ballroom by RevolutionaryJo, Unstrictly Ballroom [Podfic] by esbielle)

Yesterday Once More by Sweetlittlevampire (T, 22k, WangXian, Modern, Reality Show, Long Lost Family AU, Adoption, Family Reunions, Reunions, Lost Love, Getting Back Together, Family Feels, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, [Podfic] Yesterday Once More by shash_reads (sunkitten_shash))

Nothing but your heart by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Implied Mpreg, First Time, Getting Together, Angst and Drama, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Whump, Breeding Kink)

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12. In the mood for a fic where Lan Zhan have Qi deviation or is in serious danger of it. I have read one fic that Lan Zhan nearly qi deviates and it made me interested in this concept (I loved how everyone was so worried and protective of him, even his uncle). I haven't seen any other fics like that so far so I would be grateful for the help.

No-One Else (As Much As You) by sami (M, 6k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Family, Slice of Life, Children, Insecurity, Unexpected Complications Of Reincarnation, Mild qi deviation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort) LWJ has a mild qi deviation in this one, but FYI it is a sequel and may not make much sense without reading the first in the series

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13. Hi, first, thanks for all your amazing work. You have been a source of joy and help with my sanity for years!! I want to know if you could include a request for the next I'm in the Mood for a Fic post. I want fics related to Reality TV. I have read all the ones you have in your Fic Compilations, but I wonder if there is any more!! Specially any fic inspired by Survivor or by The Amazing Race!! Pretty please!! Be well!! Happy New Year!! Hugs!!! @monicaop21

Thank you for the new recs!! I think this are amazing stories!! If there are any more later I'll keep an eye for it ;). Be well!!!

❤️ Knight Hunt! Phoenix Mountain by travelingneuritis (E, 51k, wangxian, modern, dating show, Modern Cultivation, but in the silliest way possible, Reality TV, the juniors are interns, Smut, Illustrations, low-stakes pining)

and from our own/live to ourselves by betweentheheavesofstorm (M, 105k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fantasy, Reality TV, Arctic Survival, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Bloodletting, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Animal Death, Hunting, Mild Sexual Content)

🔒 will the cultivators Nail It? by AmyNChan (G, 21k, Nailed It AU, Modern, TV Show, Chaotic WWx, Awkward JZX, SS Being an Asshole, Judge LWJ. the Nailed It editors deserve a shoutout, THIS IS FOR YOU GUYS AND YOUR FANTASTIC EDITS, Nichole and Jacques being best friends)

A Right Hook to the Heart by azurewaxwing (G, 3k, NMJ/QS, MXY/NHS, Modern, Reality Show, Punching your future father in law in the face as a metaphor for love)

Soup is Another Word for Love by azurewaxwing (G, 1k, JYL/JZX, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Modern Setting, Reality Show)

The Millionaire Matchmaker (makes a match) by DizziDreams (T, 6k, JC/NHS, Reality Show, Millionaire Matchmaker AU, JC's standards aren't too high, everyone else just needs to be better, #teamBullyJiangCheng, Modern)

Love Is Blind (and also stupid) by DizziDreams (T, 5k, WangXian, Love is Blind AU, Reality Show, Modern, Love is Blind AU, Reality Show, Modern, El Amor Es Ciego (y estúpido) by evirtual3)

🔒 Lan Zhan gives shocking romantic confession on Dirty Laundry season three (not clickbait!!) by dykemania (T, 8k, LXC/JGY, WangXian, LXC & NHS, Modern, Actors, Reality Show, POV LXC, Love Confessions, On Set, Gaunyin Temple scene but reality TV)

floating prison by spicecandy (E, 25k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC/WQ, Reality Show, Yachting, Boats and Ships, Dom/sub Undertones, Blow Jobs, JC& WWX Reconciliation, Chef LWJ, Alcohol, Drunken Flirting, Getting Together, Ensemble Cast, Modern)

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14. Hi, I'm in the mood for a wangxian multiple time loops fic. I've recently been reading a Korean bl called Cloudless Sky (highly recommend, modern with super powers, found family, A+ plot so far about the mc repeating the same tragedy over and over again) and it was so WangXian coded that I know I'm going to be itching to read a similar one after I've finished. I've come across a few in the past but they've never been completed so it'd be great if the recommended fics are also complete :) @gsmileys

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic (E, 30k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Pining, Getting Together, Time Travel, Night Hunts, Hurt wwx, Mystery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Use Your Words, Mutual Pining, Depression and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratuitous use of empathy)

Every Time You Close Your Eyes by brooklinegirl (E, 38k, WangXian, Time Loop, Modern AU, Modern with Cultivation, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, I swear there is a happy ending, but yeah WWX dies a lot, Case Fic)

Rebirth of a Wretched Mayfly by marikazz (M, 15k, WangXian, Time Loop, Time Travel, Groundhog Day, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Not Really Character Death, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Trust Issues, Hurt WWX, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Okay, Mental Breakdown, Canon-Typical Violence, Existential Angst, Dissociation, Suicide, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, POV WWX)

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15. This would be for ITMF? I just read That Bitter Draught by nirejseki, it's a Su She central fic but it's so well written (it stays true to his character too) and it actually made me like Su She! I'll love to read similar fics if it exists (praying it does). I don't care too much about the ships, I just want more Su She central fics

Honestly, What Did You Expect by BlueberryLimoncello (T, 27k, WIP, WangXianShe, WangXianOC, waking up as a minor villain, playing fast and loose with the plot, playing even faster with the mechanics of qi, MC is SS, POV SS, POV First Person, potentially making everything worse?, Unreliable Narrator)

💙🔒Su She Eats his Heart Out by KizuKatana (T, 16k, WangXian, 3rd person pov, implied offscreen wangxian sex)  

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16. ok so when i was daydreaming as always i come up with some ideas and i thought im sure someone wrote this. A) Wangxian / regression. Wei or Wangji or both will turn back in time where they can fix their past mistakes or regrets before bad things happen. Rewriting of Mo Dao Zu Shi from a regression perspective. ( i don't prefer the untamed fics but I don't care as long as i can find what i want) . I have one more but letter limit prevent me writing so i will make a second of this

B) Second one is more spesific and probably there is no fic like that. This is more like transmigration/isekai where some fan or reader of the mdzs enter the story as a side/mob and try to fix things and also brings couples together. I don't want mc to fall in love with main characters or anything like she must ship wangxian(it is a must) and make them couples. She can have a romance with any other side/mob character.( Like mc transmigrated as madam yu can have romance with jfm and fix her family ) @kaiserokitadesadesougoii

16A)

🔒 if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (T, 228k, Wangxian, NHS & WWX, WWX & WQ, Time Travel Fix-It, Conspiracy, Spies & Secret Agents, Team as Family, Found Family, Burial Mounds, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Morally Ambiguous Character, Rumors, Politics, Developing Friendships, Good Uncle LQR, Demonic Cultivation, YilingWei Sect)

💖 Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nostalgia, Subtly Assertive LWJ, WWX Won't Back Down But Blushes Anyway, Very Mild Angst with a Happy Ending)

Family by Quiet_crash (G, 57k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JLY & WWX & JC, LXC & WWX, JYL & LWJ, Time Travel Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Established Relationship)

🔒 We Can See a New Start by preciousbunnynoiz (M, 127k, WangXian, XiCheng, XuanLi, Soulmates, Time Travel Fix-It, Biting, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, but mentally they are adults, Making Out, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Happy Ending, PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Supportive LWJ, Communication, Soul Bond, Blood, Found Family, Parent-Child Relationship, aromantic JC, Lesbian WQ, Queerplatonic Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Disassociate episodes, disassociating, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Depression, Delusions, Mental Health Issues, Mental Breakdown, Attempted Sexual Assault, Therapy, Supportive JC, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Torture, Revenge, Self-Sacrifice, Accidental Bonding, Brotherly Bonding)

this is our vow by orro (E, 142k, WangXian, WIP, Major Character Death, Time Travel Fix-It, Butterfly Effect, For Want of a Nail, Character Death, Sunshot Campaign, Child Death, War Crimes, Time Travelling WWX, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet)

16B)

i told you when i came i was a stranger by Caramelized (M, 50k, OFC/LXC, minor WangXian, Isekai, Transmigration, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Amateur cartography, Butterfly Effect, Sunshot Campaign, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, No Golden Core Transfer, Dimension Travel, Politics, LXC the politician, Self-Insert, Foreknowledge, Angst with a Happy Ending)

The Tamed by Escheria (T, 481k, WangXian, WIP, LWJ/XZ, WYB/WWX, YiZhan, YLLZ WWX, The Untamed (TV) References, Overpowered WWX, XZ is WWX, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, Isekai, Demonic Cultivation, Genius WWX, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soulmates, Reincarnation)

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17. itmfff

fcis with the "don't touch my wife!" trope in arranged marriage or otherwise plsplsplspls

thank u sm! @bunnycoffeeumcat

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[andy-15-07]

The Empress and the General

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 3399

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The Colosseum buzzed with the thunderous cheers of Rome’s citizens. The air was thick with anticipation, dust swirling in the golden rays of the sun. General Marcus Acacius, his polished armor gleaming, stood near the Emperor's platform. His piercing gaze scanned the roaring crowd, but his mind was steady, unyielding. He had long served Rome with unwavering loyalty, his reputation as a fierce warrior preceding him.

Today, however, his focus faltered as his eyes fell on her.

Y/N sat gracefully beside her brothers, Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla, adorned in a flowing gown of imperial purple and gold. Her presence was like a beacon amidst the chaos, her beauty striking, her demeanor regal. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement as she watched the spectacle below. Marcus felt his breath hitch—a reaction he hadn’t experienced in years.

As though sensing his gaze, Y/N turned her head, her eyes meeting his. There was a brief moment where the world seemed to pause. A flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—passed between them before she looked away, her lips curving into a small smile.

Marcus swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away. He was a soldier, bound by duty. And she—she was untouchable.

Later that evening, the emperors summoned Marcus to their private chambers. The siblings were striking in their contrasting personas: Geta, the more calculating and composed ruler, and Caracalla, brash and fiery. Y/N sat quietly to the side, her expression unreadable.

"General Acacius," Geta began, his tone measured, "you have served Rome well, and we entrust you with a new responsibility."

Marcus inclined his head respectfully. "Anything for the glory of Rome, my lords."

Caracalla leaned forward, a sly grin on his lips. "Our sister, Y/N, is dear to us. As you know, the court is rife with intrigue. We require someone capable of ensuring her safety."

Marcus blinked, his composure unwavering despite the quickened pace of his heart. "You wish for me to guard her, my lord?"

"Precisely," Geta affirmed. "You will accompany her during public appearances, oversee her security, and report directly to us."

Marcus’s gaze flickered briefly to Y/N, who now watched him intently. "It will be my honor."

The following days saw Marcus in Y/N’s constant presence. Initially, their interactions were formal. She would nod politely when he escorted her, offer a soft "thank you" when he opened doors or helped her into carriages. Yet, there was a quiet curiosity in her eyes, as if she sought to understand the man behind the armor.

One afternoon, as they strolled through the imperial gardens, Y/N finally spoke.

"Do you always take your duties so seriously, General?"

Marcus glanced at her, surprised by her playful tone. "A soldier’s duty is his life, my lady."

"Surely there’s more to life than duty," she mused, plucking a flower and twirling it between her fingers.

"Not for someone like me," he replied, his voice low.

"And what is someone like you?"

Marcus hesitated. "A man who serves. Nothing more."

Y/N stopped walking, turning to face him. "I don’t believe that. You’re more than just a soldier, Marcus Acacius."

Hearing his name from her lips sent a shiver through him. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "You honor me with your words, my lady."

She smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Perhaps I do."

As weeks passed, their conversations grew deeper. Y/N shared stories of her childhood, moments of joy and sorrow. Marcus, in turn, revealed fragments of his life—his rise through the ranks, his loyalty to Rome. Slowly, walls crumbled, and an undeniable connection formed between them.

One evening, as they stood on a balcony overlooking the city, Y/N spoke softly. "Do you ever dream, Marcus?"

"Dream?" he echoed.

"Yes. Of something beyond this life. Beyond duty and titles."

Marcus looked at her, the moonlight casting her features in a soft glow. "I stopped dreaming long ago."

She stepped closer, her gaze unwavering. "Then perhaps it’s time you start again."

For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine—a life where she wasn’t the sister of emperors, where he wasn’t bound by duty. A life where they could be free.

Their growing closeness did not go unnoticed. Whispers spread through the court, and the emperors, though initially indifferent, began to question Marcus’s loyalty.

Caracalla confronted him one day, his tone sharp. "Do not mistake my trust for permission, General. My sister is not yours to covet."

Marcus stood his ground, his voice steady. "I have done nothing to dishonor her or your family, my lord."

"See that it stays that way," Caracalla warned, his eyes narrowing.

The tension only served to deepen Marcus’s resolve. He couldn’t deny his feelings for Y/N, but he also couldn’t risk her safety. Yet, Y/N, ever perceptive, sensed his inner turmoil.

One night, as they walked through the palace halls, she stopped abruptly.

"Marcus," she said, her voice firm, "do you care for me?"

He froze, his heart pounding. "My lady, I—"

"Do not lie to me," she interrupted, stepping closer. "I see it in your eyes. You feel what I feel."

Marcus exhaled shakily. "It doesn’t matter. You are—"

"Don’t say it," she pleaded. "Don’t remind me of the chains that bind us."

Her vulnerability shattered his defenses. Without thinking, he reached out, cupping her face gently. "I would give everything to be with you," he admitted, his voice raw.

"And I would do the same," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

Their love, though forbidden, became their solace. They stole moments whenever they could—hidden glances, whispered words, fleeting touches.

But their happiness was fleeting. The emperors grew suspicious, and whispers of betrayal reached their ears.

One fateful day, Marcus was summoned to the throne room. Geta and Caracalla stood side by side, their expressions grim. Y/N stood behind them, her face pale.

"General Acacius," Geta began, "you have served Rome faithfully, but your recent actions have brought your loyalty into question."

Marcus dropped to one knee. "I have done nothing to betray Rome or your trust, my lords."

Caracalla sneered. "Do not insult our intelligence. Your feelings for our sister are no secret."

Y/N stepped forward, her voice trembling. "They are my feelings as well. Do not punish him for what is beyond his control."

Her words stunned the room into silence. Marcus looked up at her, his eyes wide.

Geta sighed, his tone heavy. "This cannot continue. For the sake of the empire, Marcus, you must leave."

Marcus was exiled, sent to the outskirts of the empire. But even distance could not sever their bond. Through letters smuggled by loyal servants, they kept their love alive, vowing to reunite one day.

Years later, as Marcus fought in a distant land, a message arrived. It bore Y/N’s handwriting, her words filled with hope and longing.

"Rome may keep us apart, but my heart is yours, always. One day, we will find our way back to each other."

And with that promise, Marcus held onto hope, determined to defy fate and reclaim the love that had changed him forever.

The quiet of the night was broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind, but Y/N felt the weight of a decision that had long been simmering in her heart. The golden glow of the imperial palace, with its looming marble columns and opulent halls, had never been more suffocating. The weight of being the sister of two emperors, of carrying the expectations and responsibilities of the empire on her shoulders, had grown unbearable. Even her love for her brothers had not been enough to silence the yearning that had lodged deep within her—a yearning for freedom, for a life not defined by power or politics, but by love and choice.

She glanced out of her window one final time, at the majestic city of Rome stretching endlessly beneath the sky. But her thoughts were not on the glory of the empire. They were on the man she had left behind, the man who had once stood beside her, not as a general or protector, but as a lover—Marcus Acacius.

It had been nearly three years since her brothers had exiled him, a decision that had torn her apart. Yet, with every letter she received from him, with every fleeting moment of longing, her resolve had only strengthened. She could not bear the thought of living without him. He had become more than a soldier to her—he was her heart, her future.

The plan was simple, though dangerous. She would leave in the dead of night, with nothing but a few personal belongings and a letter to her brothers. There was no turning back once she stepped beyond the palace walls. But as she made her preparations, a sense of peace settled over her, knowing that this was the right choice.

By the time the moon reached its zenith, Y/N had left the palace behind. The streets of Rome were deserted, the bustling life of the city hushed under the veil of darkness. Her heart raced with each step, but there was no hesitation. She was driven by a singular purpose: to find Marcus, to build a life with him, far from the reach of her brothers and their empire.

The journey was long and treacherous. She had little more than the clothes on her back, but her mind was resolute. She knew the way to the small village where Marcus had taken refuge after his exile. It was a place far removed from the influence of the empire, nestled at the edges of the Roman world, where the forests were thick and the land untamed. The journey, though, was fraught with danger. There were still whispers of Marcus’s supposed betrayal of Rome, and she knew that Roman patrols could be anywhere, hunting for her.

But her love for him was stronger than the fear that clawed at her chest. She would endure whatever hardships lay ahead, for him. For them.

Days passed before she finally arrived at the small stone house Marcus had built for them. The door swung open as soon as she knocked, revealing a man who looked nothing like the polished general she had known. His once-gilded armor had been replaced with simple tunics, and his face, once smooth and youthful, now carried the marks of exile. Yet, as their eyes met, the love in his gaze was unchanged.

"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice thick with disbelief and emotion.

She smiled, tears threatening to fall. "I had to come, Marcus. I couldn’t stay. Not without you."

He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her as if afraid that if he let go, she would vanish into the night. The familiar weight of his arms around her brought a sense of calm that she hadn’t realized she had been missing. "You shouldn’t have, Y/N. The empire... they will come for you."

"I’m done with the empire," she said softly, pulling back to look into his eyes. "I’m done with all of it. I want to be with you."

His gaze softened, but a flicker of doubt passed through his eyes. "But what about your brothers? Your family? You’re leaving everything behind."

She took his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. "I am leaving the empire behind, Marcus. I am choosing you. I have never been happier than when I am with you. I will follow you, wherever we go."

The weight of her words hung between them, a promise that neither of them would ever break. They stood there for a long time, simply holding each other, knowing that this moment—this love—was all they needed.

In the years that followed, their life together was filled with quiet moments of happiness, but also struggles that tested them both. They built a small farm together, the land harsh but fertile, and over time, the house grew with the addition of their children.

Lucius was the first to be born, a strong-willed boy who took after his father’s fierce determination. He was quick to pick up a sword and began practicing with Marcus from the age of six. Aurelia came next, her sharp mind and quick wit making her a natural leader. Even as a child, she could take charge of any situation, and her mother often found herself marveling at the young woman she was becoming.

Cassian was a dreamer, always lost in his thoughts or in the pages of the books Y/N had secretly saved from her royal life. He wasn’t interested in swordplay or fighting; instead, he dreamed of stories and adventures. But even he had a strong will, and when the time came, he would fight for those he loved.

Junia, their youngest, was the spark that kept the family alive. With her mischievous grin and boundless energy, she reminded them all that even in the darkest times, joy could still be found.

But even as they created a life for themselves, the shadow of the empire was never far behind. Marcus had hoped to fade into obscurity, but his past as a general would always haunt him. And soon, the empire came calling once more.

The years that followed Marcus and Y/N’s decision to live outside the empire were filled with both challenges and moments of quiet happiness. As they watched their children grow, the family created a life rich in love, rooted in the simplicity of the land they had chosen to call home. It wasn’t the grandeur of Rome, nor the power of an empire that shaped their world—it was the warmth of their shared moments, the strength of their love, and the joy of raising their children together.

It was early in the morning when the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon, casting a soft glow over the land. Marcus and Y/N stood side by side in the garden, their hands intertwined as they watched their children play in the fields. The air was fresh with the scent of wildflowers, and the sound of laughter filled the space between them.

Lucius, now a young man of seventeen, raced after his younger siblings, Aurelia and Cassian, who were in pursuit of a butterfly that fluttered just beyond their reach. Junia, ever the energetic one, hopped in circles, her giggles ringing out as she watched her brothers and sister. It was moments like these that made everything worth it—these simple joys that, even in their most difficult days, filled the family with a sense of peace.

"You know," Y/N said softly, her voice carrying the weight of years of love and gratitude, "when I imagined a life with you, I never imagined this. A home filled with laughter, with children, with peace."

Marcus smiled, his eyes softening as he watched their children. "I never imagined it either. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

He leaned down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "You are my greatest treasure, Y/N. I never knew what it was to truly live until I had you beside me."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with love. "And you, Marcus. I never knew what it was to be truly free until I found you."

They stood there for a moment, silently watching their children. The world outside their home may have been filled with turmoil and uncertainty, but here, in this moment, they had everything they needed. A family, bound by love, and a future that stretched ahead of them, full of possibility.

Later that afternoon, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the family gathered around a small table outside, their meal simple but filled with warmth. The fire crackled in the background, casting a soft light over their faces. The children chatted excitedly about their day—Lucius had learned how to fish, Aurelia had discovered a hidden grove of trees, and Cassian had spent hours reading the stories that Y/N had brought with her from the city.

"Father," Lucius said, his voice carrying the weight of a young man who had already learned the value of hard work, "how did you know what to do when you were in the army? How did you make those tough decisions?"

Marcus looked at his son, his heart swelling with pride. "It wasn’t always easy, Lucius. The weight of those decisions… it was heavy. But every choice I made, I made with the hope that it would protect the people I loved. And now," he added, his voice softening, "I make my decisions based on the same love, but this time, it’s for all of you."

Lucius nodded, understanding the depth of his father's words. He had learned much from Marcus—not just in skill, but in honor, duty, and love. Aurelia, ever the wise one, placed her hand on his arm.

"Father," she said, "you’ve taught us so much about what truly matters. You’ve shown us how to live, not just survive. And that is something we will carry with us forever."

Cassian, who had been listening intently, looked up from his book. "I think the best lesson you’ve taught me is that it’s okay to dream, even if the world doesn’t always understand. I used to think I had to be like everyone else, but now I know I can be true to who I am."

Marcus smiled, his heart full as he looked around at his children. He and Y/N had given them more than just survival. They had given them a home, a sense of belonging, and the freedom to be themselves.

As the evening wore on, the family sat around the fire, the sounds of nature enveloping them. Marcus reached for Y/N’s hand, squeezing it gently. "Look at them," he said quietly, his voice full of awe. "They’re so full of life, so full of love. We’ve created something beautiful, haven’t we?"

Y/N smiled, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Yes, we have. They are our greatest creation, Marcus. Our legacy."

Aurelia, ever perceptive, leaned over to her mother. "Do you ever miss Rome, Mother? The life we left behind?"

Y/N paused for a moment, considering her daughter’s question. "Sometimes, I think about it. I think about what could have been, what we might have had. But when I look at this," she said, gesturing to the family gathered around the table, "I know we made the right choice. I have everything I need right here."

Lucius smiled at his mother’s words, his expression thoughtful. "And so do I. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything."

Marcus looked at his children, his heart swelling with love and pride. He had come so far from the man he once was—the soldier who served Rome without question. And now, he was a father, a husband, a man who had built a life worth living, a life where love was the greatest force of all.

As the stars began to twinkle above, and the sounds of the night enveloped them in a peaceful quiet, Marcus stood and held out his hand to Y/N. "Shall we, my love?"

She took his hand, standing beside him as they walked slowly into the night, their children’s laughter echoing behind them. There was no grand empire waiting for them—no throne, no titles, no power. But they had something far more precious: each other. And together, they would face whatever the future held, knowing that as long as they had each other, they would always have everything they needed.

Some time later, the family found themselves gathered in the warm glow of the fire again, the flickering light casting soft shadows across the room. Lucius had returned from his training, Aurelia had spent the day working on their garden, and Cassian, with his book in hand, had wandered out to join the family.

Marcus stood before them, a proud smile on his face. "Your mother and I were talking, and we think it’s time you all start learning about what comes after this life. What comes after the days spent in the fields and the gardens. It’s time you understand that family doesn’t just mean those we’re born to—it means those we choose to protect."

Lucius nodded, his eyes gleaming with a deep understanding of his father’s words. Aurelia set her tools aside, her mind already turning with thoughts of how she could help. Cassian, ever the thoughtful one, placed his book down gently.

Y/N glanced at Marcus, her eyes filled with love, then turned to their children. "We’ve built something strong together. But the world outside this farm won’t always be as kind. You must remember that the true power lies in love and the choices we make—what we give to one another, what we protect with all our hearts."

And as they sat together in the warmth of their small home, surrounded by the peace they had built, they knew that their greatest legacy would be the love they shared, the family they had created, and the lessons they would pass on to the generations that followed.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Could I request Himeko and Springfield whose S/O likes making them coffee?

(H:SR/GFL) Himeko and Springfield's S/O making them Coffee

Himeko was under no illusion that most people thought her coffee was...unpalatable, putting it kindly.

And that is to say nothing of her cooking ability.

With all that being said, she is genuinely touched everytime her S/O makes her morning coffee in exactly the way she likes.

Bitter is better after all, and she's glad someone else besides Dan Heng has something nice to say about that style!

(S/O) "Another cup, dear?"

(Himeko) "Please, and thank you.~"

Himeko puts the mug near S/O as they pour more in, with March 7th's and Caelus's gazes trying to avoid meeting either of them, lest they get offered some vile "refreshments".

(S/O) "Sure you guys don't want any? This is a lot for just Himeko and I to dri-"

(Caelus) "I-I drank a lot of juice already, if I have any more, I'd need to go pee."

His response came very quickly at the prospect of trying any of the killer coffee couples' drink.

(March 7th) "...Second that."

(Himeko) "Hm, should I brew it then? You usually seem to drink mine everytime I offer."

(S/O) "Maybe I should make mine more bitter to match yours?"

(March 7th & Caelus's thoughts) Is that even possible?!

Springfield always appreciates another helping hand in the café, especially a human touch to it!

Usually she would brew the coffee to match whoever their customer is, and that varies all the time.

However, it touches her core that S/O would always keep a pot aside, special for her alone.

As soon as she steps in for the day, Springfield can see S/O pouring her a cup, alongside a muffin on a plate.

(S/O) "Morning."

(Springfield) "Did you get something for yourself as well?"

(S/O) "Doing that now."

Springfield smiled at that, waiting to dig into breakfast until S/O sat right beside her, the two enjoying a little bit of quiet before opening up.

Some of the other T-Dolls working in the café would occasionally tease Springfield, being jealous that she had her own spouse already.

Even though they weren't married, the idea made Springfield blush all the same, with a bright smile accompanying her too.

(Springfield) "Thank you as always, S/O. Do you want me to start making coffee for you too?"

(S/O) "No, it's fine! You already make me plenty of muffins, no need to add to it."

(Springfield) "Oh, are you sure?"

S/O chuckled, leaning against her shoulder in the seat.

(S/O) "Considering that I'm running out of space in my fridge to put them in, last thing I need is even more stuff to put up!"

(Springfield) "D-Do I really bake that much?"

(S/O) "...Yeah, it's honestly kind of scary how fast you can crank them out."

(G36's Voice) "I'm astonished we have the supplies to bake them everyday considering how many we sell. And that isn't counting the ones you give away for free."

[mangoamango]

In 2013 I lost a close friend at just–a stupid young age. My cat was one of the few things that helped. shortly afterwards he passed away too & all the grief I had from losing my friend & him just poured over me like a wave. And while deep in that fuckin pit, I wrote to sashayed about losing my cat, and she took the time and energy to respond to me in a way that--I don't even know how to describe it. Like a ring of keys. Being seen in a way I didn't know I could be seen.

Today would be my friend's 35th birthday; I'm putting the rest under a cut because I want to talk about her a little, but I don't want to derail Rave's post about her own loss.

CW for death and animal death if that is not already apparently obvious

I think of my beautiful friend so often. How much she would HATE the political landscape now. What hilariously mean things she would say about it. The music she's missed out on. The books. The memes! What her fashion would be like. If she would've published anything professionally (her dream). If we would finally be able to talk about how T E R R I B LE her first original fantasy novel was (she started writing it in like 8th grade, so like who amongst us at 13 would've done any better etc). What she would think about my cat rescuing and if she would take any of the little wayward gremlins I find outside. Her beautiful soft ankles.

Claire was a dear friend of my heart. And then--after her completely abrupt death--the cat of my absolute soul died of a brain tumor at only 4 years old. I don't know if I would've survived her death without my cat, and while I know I would've survived the death of my cat it would've been much more difficult without the kindness Rave showed me. It means a lot now, and it meant a lot then.

Rave, you will never know what a difference your kindness made in my life. i wish there was something i could say or do for you in return besides: i’m so sorry for your loss. thank you. Your friend sounds so much like mine--pretentious and clever and mean. Today I am thinking about them both.

My best friend who died for no reason would have been 40 today. I think when people die it's tempting to make them into saints, which he certainly wasn't, but without exaggerating his qualities he was and is one of my favorite people, and if you met him i think he would've been one of yours. He was my favorite for a lot of reasons I can't imitate or match -- his intelligence, his kindness, his patience, his artistic daring. But he was also my favorite because he was interested in and curious about so many things, particularly other people, and that is something I or anyone can emulate, which is why Sept. 20 is my personal Curious About Someone Else's Area of Interest Day! In honor of my dead friend I would love for you to tell me something you are learning or doing that's taking up space in your brain. Are you learning a new language, did you write six pages of a novel, did you try linocut (!), are you studying gene expression, do you have a new pet lizard, did you visit an arboretum? I would love to hear about it. and so would your friends probably even if you think they wouldn't. before my friend died i loved hearing him talk about dramaturgy and would've loved to listen to him do it for 24 straight hours, even though i always made fun of him for having a pretentious job. i wish i had 10000 more conversations to remember about this thing he loved.

[moonmaiden1996]

Thinking about Sanji... 🤔🤭 Do you think besides the nosebleeding he comes undone in his pants very often?

18 +++ Suggestiveness

I mean I should be sleeping but this ask must be answered!

ALL THE TIME!

This man is practically the poster child for coming in his pants. Let’s break it down even further, because the scenarios where this man absolutely loses it are endless.

Sanji is the ultimate combination of devotion and zero chill. From the moment you set foot on the ship, he’s been hopelessly infatuated, worshipping you like a goddess. And let’s be real—when Sanji loves, he loves hard. Which means he also cums hard. Every glance, every smile, every casual interaction with you is like a shot to his very soul and well--- his pants.

The nosebleeds? Just the tip of the iceberg. Sanji is so worked up, so brimming with adoration and desire, that the smallest, most innocent gesture can leave him clinging to his last shred of composure and make as mess in his pants.

Everyday Moments That Ruin Him:

When You Praise His Cooking: The way you moan softly after tasting one of his dishes? He’s toast. A trembling, stammering mess, ready to drop to his knees and thank the universe for your existence as he explodes.

Adjusting Your Clothes: Fixing your shirt strap or adjusting your skirt without even thinking about it? He’s biting down on his lip so hard its hard to know where his losing the most bodily fluids from.

Stretching in the Morning: Catching a glimpse of you stretching after waking up, arms above your head, soft sigh escaping your lips? He’s gripping the nearest piece of furniture for dear life- the man needed to change his outfit and he he hasn't even made breakfast yet

Subtle Teasers That Shatter Him:

Eating Something Messy: Watching you innocently bite into a piece of fruit or a pastry, lips glossy and fingers a little sticky? He’s sweating, his knees weak, heart pounding like a drum and his definatly twitching.

Playful Touches: You laugh and lightly tap his arm, or, heaven forbid, rest a hand on his shoulder while asking him something. His brain short-circuits defiantly thinking about another place he would like you to touch as he reaches his peak.

Trying to Learn Something New: If you’re cooking and lean in close to ask for tips, he’s hyper-focused on not combusting as you innocently stand inches away from him. If he has to put his arms around you to help your technique he is a goner.--- RIP SANJI.

Accidental Intimacy:

Sharing a Drink: You take a sip from his glass or taking a bite off his fork? His thoughts spiral, and he’s barely holding it together. I mean he just isn't he collapses on the floor and is twitching for at least 10 minutes before his aftershocks subside.

Fixing His Tie: Adjusting his tie or brushing crumbs off his shirt? He’s will be needing to take a trip to his room to change.

Wearing His Clothes: Borrow his jacket or shirt? The though alone sends him its a sea of moans. The sight-- this will send him onto a full on fit and I am talking multiple. He passes out from pleasure here.

Sanji’s mind has been racing about you since the day he met you. Whether it’s imagining sweet, romantic gestures or, well, less innocent daydreams, he’s perpetually teetering on the edge. Any minute he could burst. He’s so eager and so deeply in love that even the most mundane interactions feel electric so he is very sensitive to anything you do.

Would he be mortified if you caught on? Absolutely. But deep down, a secret part of him would revel in it— he wants you too watch him! Knowing that even without trying, you have this effect on him. It’s just further proof of how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and proves how amazing you are.

On the whole Sanji doesn't see this as a bad thing he sees it a proof that your made for him but... he does not love the amount of laundry he has to do or running out completely and having to borrow erghhhh Zoro's. The texture, the smell… the sheer uncomfortableness of having to wear Mosshead's clothes. But when he’s desperate, he’ll reluctantly reach for those, all while muttering curses and swearing that he’ll never let it come to that again. Of course it does as Sanji simply cannot stop himself.

But after that horrifying experience Sanji will just go commando or finally get you to love him so he can become undone in some other way *waggles eyebrows* you know what I mean.

I cannot resist a Sanji ask...who am I joking I cannot resist any One Piece guy I mean Corazon ....

Hope you enjoyed. I would love to know your take on his too :P

LIKE. COMMENT. REQUEST.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

nymph. [part 5] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you. but everything has changed.

Warnings:  angst, fluff, memories of death and arena fights, old romance, lots of sadness, some tears, gods and mythology are treated in a simple way

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. I've hidden something there… something that happened a while ago and came back to them. I'm curious… I'd like to know what you think of this series. or anything I write. My inner critic probably does too well. But I'll leave you with this and thank you for your time.

I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph [masterlist]

It was another hot day and even though you were in the shade, you could feel the heat pouring off the sand in the arena. You had never seen a place like this before. It was massive, raised above the rooftops, as if it was shouting to everyone "I will be here for eternity while you turn to dust".

Marcus was strangely quiet and nervous that day, you could see it in his gaze and how close he was to you. Brutus and Aurelia, as they had promised, showed up at the coliseum with you, but it didn't help.

The crowd around you, the greetings from the other guests and the place itself, General Acacius was restless and would have given anything to be able to take you away from there.

But your eyes, like the eyes of a child, absorbed it all, absorbed his world.

"Marcus! How good to see you!" a cheerful and resonant voice reached your ears as well.

"Lucilla." Marcus nodded as the woman smiled fondly at him. "I’m glad to see you in good health."

She was beautiful. Golden hair fell in waves down her back, a robe draped around her shapely body, and precious stones and gold sparkled on her hands and neck. 

Lucilla was beautiful and she definitely knew it. How else could you explain the spell she cast over the people gathered in this place.

She gave him a smile. "I was glad to hear in what glory you returned to Rome. Why haven't you visited me yet? It's not nice to keep old friends waiting."

"I had my duties."

"Duties?" she repeated, and her gaze wandered to you. You didn't look in her direction, but you could clearly feel her searching gaze on you. "Is this your new..."

Your name left his lips like the words of a prayer, Lucilla immediately felt it. Despite everything, the smile didn't leave her lips.

"I'm glad to see you're happy, Marcus." she said, her hand tenderly squeezing his arm. "If she gives you this happiness..."

"She gives me more than I dare to ask for."

The woman nodded. After a short moment, she withdrew to her seat, but you still had the impression that her eyes hadn't left you and Marcus.

"Everything’s good? Come on, let's take our seats."

You sat down at the back and after a moment you saw Emperor Geta and his brother appear in the box. All the majesty and splendor of their personas was overwhelming, but you had the impression that the people around them seemed to stiffen and began to weigh their words more carefully.

However, you didn’t have time to look at them more closely. The fights had begun.

Marcus felt ashamed and embarrassed. When he saw the expression on your face, his heart stopped for a moment. He wanted to take you away from there, to erase from your memory what you had seen, what you had heard... 

Your fingers tightened on the ornate armrests of the chair and you slightly leaned forward as your widened eyes watched the bloodshed in the arena with horror.

"My dear..." he whispered in your ear, but only a sigh escaped from between your parted lips.

He took your hand and kissed it, but that didn't help either. Your fingers were ice cold. Gods, Marcus regretted ever letting you see all this!

The conversations and laughter of his companions reached him as if from behind a curtain. All his attention was focused on you and only his alertness allowed him to react appropriately when any words were directed at him.

Let this all be over! Please...

Brutus and Aurelia took you back home, Marcus's duties forced him to stay. You barely spoke to him or his friends, still dazed by what you saw.

"Take care of her." Brutus ordered Melitta when she appeared to welcome you home.

You were barely able to understand her words, although she spoke to you calmly and with concern.

"Where is she? Melitta!" his loud voice echoed through the darkened corridor.

The girl quickly approached him, leaned around the corner, and bowed quickly.

"My lord." she said "I tried my best, but she..."

"What about her?" Acacius growled, approaching her "Speak, girl, if you value your life!"

She raised her head, looking at him pleadingly "I prepared her a bath to ease her nerves. She's still there..."

"How long?" he frowned.

"Since she came home."

"It's been a few hours!"

He pushed Melitta aside and went inside. The stuffiness and the smell of incense immediately filled his nostrils. You were there, sitting on the edge with your feet immersed in the water. The maid had to cover your shoulders with a robe. But what frightened Marcus was your gaze. Glassy eyes stared into space, you looked like a sculpture.

"My love." he said quickly approaching you, he touched your cheek, directing your gaze to him "I'm so sorry."

"Marcus..."

He saw the tears running down your cheeks, your trembling lips, the crease between your brows. He had never felt so helpless before.

"I'm sorry you had to see this. I have no words to justify myself, but please... Just say something."

"I don't understand this, Marcus." Your whisper was barely audible. "I've seen the wrath of the gods, I've seen the battlefields, but this... Just to please a handful of people? Do you all despise your lives so much?"

"I have nothing to defend what you saw."

"How could you defend it? There were ordinary people there too..."

"Thieves and bandits. Slaves."

"People." You took a deep breath. "So who am I, Marcus? What am I? I feel like I'm floating between worlds, not belonging to any of them... I saw the delight on the faces of some, and the terror in the eyes of the dying. Where am I in all of this?"

Warm, large hands cupped your face. Gentle brown eyes looked at you with fear, but also with love and care.

"You're here with me. That's what matters." He said. "Our life is beyond all of this. I'll take you away from here, somewhere where you'll feel free, safe... You belong to me, and I belong to you. That's all that matters."

He saw the shadow of a smile on your chapped lips and couldn't help but taste them. They were salty from tears, but still soft and comforting. 

"Come on, love. Let me take you to bed."

With incredible ease he lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. You were so fragile in his arms, when he placed you on the bed he was still surprised that you were real. It was late, the house was silent and the room was filled with the sweet scent.

You watched as Marcus removed the gold bracelets from his wrists and then his toga, which he placed on a nearby chair. The glow of the candles danced on his wide back.

"Lucilla."

Your quiet voice caught his attention as he poured himself some water from the jug on the table. He turned around, you were sitting on your heels and staring at him. Your face was so soft in the light.

"I saw how she looked at you." you continued calmly. "Something connected you. Feelings, right? Strong ones."

Acacius nodded.

"What happened?"

He cleared his throat and took a few steps, his thoughts returning to those times, the times of his youth.

"It was years ago..." he began "I was a young soldier, gaining experience. She was lonely. Like me."

"She's beautiful."

"Not like you." you smiled slightly and continued "Our paths crossed."

"Did you love her?"

Marcus sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands, which suddenly seemed colossal, rough. Inappropriate for you. However, your presence next to him was so soothing, he closed his eyes.

"I thought so." he replied "I thought it was love. But everything changed suddenly."

Your hand rested on his shoulder "How so?"

"I don't know. I was away from Rome for a while. When I came back, when I met her again and kissed her, I felt like I was betraying someone. It sounds crazy, but it was true. The shadow of an unknown person, someone I had lost and didn't even know, hung between us. I couldn't... Lucilla sensed it, she didn't ask questions. I devoted myself to the army, to Rome." He looked at you, a faint smile playing on his plush lips. When you stroked his cheek, Marcus sighed quietly.

"I've never told anyone about it. Is it possible to suddenly wake up one day and feel like something's been lost? Because that's how I felt. I didn't know what it was, but I felt like someone had cut out a piece of me. No one could fill it. And then, years later, you appeared... You were there like the wind, like a breeze or a warm gust." his lips brushed your wrist, you rested your forehead against his and closed your eyes. “I felt you before I saw you. And once I saw your face, gods, it was like I woke up from a long sleep.”

For almost four days, General Acacius's house had been just you, Melitta, Antigonus, and the rest of the servants. His duties had forced him to report to the barracks, and this time he couldn't find an excuse.

It was your first separation in a long time, and although you missed him, every day surprised you with something. Like when Antigonus said you could accompany Melitta to the market. Or when you went to the nearby temple together.

Aurelia and Brutus, Marcus's friends, also visited you, but seeing that they had torn you away from sitting among the maps and notes you were so passionately devouring, they decided that nothing would threaten you. So if it weren't for Antigonus' complaints, you would probably have moved the bedding there.

You felt it again.

You didn't tell Marcus about it, but you waited for the familiar scent to fill the bedroom again. Maybe you were wrong? Maybe it was all just a vivid dream?

But when you stood by the open window to the garden, you heard the quiet words of prayer, you knew you were right. The grass was soft under your bare feet, and the pleasantly cool wind brought relief after the hot day. You walked quietly so as not to scare anyone away.

And when you stopped behind the rose bush, you saw her.

Melitta was kneeling in front of burning candles, with incense made of herbs and flowers that gave off a scent so familiar to you. Her quiet voice mixed with the rustle of leaves and cicadas.

You didn't want to interrupt her prayers, it wasn't right. But you listened to the words and with each subsequent one you felt as if your heart was sinking.

These were not ordinary prayers. Regret, sadness, a plea for forgiveness, a promise to improve... All these words were accompanied by Melitta's silent sobs, carried through the night to the stars along with the smoke of her incense.

And then you understood.

She was just like you.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

@ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal @missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing @mynameisbaby9 @94namkooksworld @bbyanarchist @picketniffler @tranquilty @psyched2b @jeewrites @tuquoquebrute @aotfantasmagorias @mynameismothra @kluvspedro @fefa-la-printcessa

[tab00-1nce51]

Vacation at the hotel with Aunt

Veronica : - Well, the nephew. How are you doing? Everything okay? Maybe you need something?

Veronica : - You know. Your Aunt Veronica is all for you. I'll do everything.

Nephew : - oh Aunt Veronica, thank you. I like everything, I'm happy with everything.

I am very glad that I am resting here with you. In this hotel. My vacation with you is my dream.

But there is one thing bothers me.

Veronica : - Which one, honey?

Nephew : - You said you'd do anything for me.

Veronica : - Yes. Tell me dear, what's bothering you?

Nephew : - I'm embarrassed to say this, but...

Veronica : - Go ahead, tell me.

Nephew : - I'm worried about your breasts.

Its so big. Beautiful, alluring.

I Can’t look anywhere elese.

I want to see her. 👀

Veronica : - Baby, this...

Nephew : - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that. I will go.

Veronica : - No, honey stay.

Veronica : - I wanted to say. I don't mind at all. If you want to see my breasts. I could help you with that.

Like i said. I will do everything to make my nephew happy.

Nephew : - Oh.. Wow Aunt Veronica are you serious?

Veronica : - Yes, baby. Do you want to see my breasts?

Nephew : - Yeah. Yeah..

Veronica : - Okay, you know what? I have an idea.

Sit in the chair and relax.

Nephew : - What are you doing?

Veronica : - I 'll show you now.

Nephew : - Oh, Aunt Veronica 💞

Veronica : - Just like that. You wanted my tits? You'll get them.

Yeah baby. Fuck my tits. I love it. ❤️

Veronica : - Yes, just like that. Oh. Do you want to f.. ck me in the mouth? Oh. Baby.

Slup.. Suck.. Mhm.. Whoa..

Nephew : - Yes, Aunt, take it in your mouth, oh yes. I f.. ck you between your boobs and you suck me. F.. ck Yeah.. 💦

Some time later..

Veronica : - Well.. You've finished all over my face, nephew.

Nephew : - I'm sorry for that. You're so hot. Sexual.

Veronica :- How do you like my idea, with my breasts? Did you like it?

Nephew : - oh,yes Aunt. You're just reading my mind. You're a sex bomb.

Veronica : - Thanks baby I liked it too. Ready for the second round?

Nephew : - Aunt Veronica, I can't believe it's happening. It's like a dream come true. Yes, I'm ready.

Veronica winked at her nephew, her face glistening with the evidence of his pleasure. She stood up from the bed, her voluptuous body moving with a seductive grace that seemed almost predatory. Walking over to the chair, she straddled him, her legs wrapping around his waist. With a knowing smile, she reached back and unclipped her bra, letting her ample breasts fall free. They were more than a handful, and her nipples were hard and pointed from the excitement of their little show.

Nephew stared up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust. He reached out and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. He squeezed gently, watching as Veronica's eyes closed and she let out a soft moan. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric as they moved closer together.

Nephew leaned in and began to kiss her neck, his hands roaming over her soft skin. Veronica tilted her head back, giving him better access. His kisses grew more insistent, turning into nibbles and gentle bites that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh and she knew that he was more than ready for round two.

With a seductive whisper, she leaned back and began to grind against him, her breasts bouncing with each movement. "I want you to fuck me, baby," she murmured into his ear. "Do you want to fuck me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before the nephew nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. Veronica slid down off the chair and onto her knees, her breasts still out and her hands reaching for the zipper of his pants. She pulled out his erect cock and began to stroke it, her eyes never leaving his. "You want this?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

The nephew nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Veronica took him in her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft in a way that was both practiced and enthusiastic. She sucked hard, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock, and he couldn't help but groan. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with mischief as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing out.

Their eyes locked as she continued to suck him, her hands playing with his balls. He could feel the tension building in his body, his orgasm approaching like a freight train. He reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her movements slightly.

With a final, deep moan, the nephew came in her mouth, and Veronica swallowed every drop, looking up at him with a satisfied smile. She stood up and took his hand, leading him back to the bed. "Let's not waste any more time," she said, pulling him down onto the mattress with her.

Their bodies tangled together, their kisses deepening as they explored each other's bodies. Veronica straddled him again, this time sliding down onto his cock with a gasp. She began to ride him, her breasts bouncing with each downward thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, and they both knew that this was just the beginning of their taboo rendezvous.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Pls ignore me if your requests are closed buuuuuuutttt

Headcanons for a reader that can't stop 'mirin(staring full love and joy, especially when they're not looking) with infamously insecure Big Red ?

And if not, know that you're loved and appreciated regardless and I'm glad you and your blog exist

Hello my dear Gornack! Hope the new year is treating you well. Thank you for the ask! 🥰

Mountains and Sunsets and You

Raphael x Reader

No warnings

"You got something to say?"

His sudden attention snaps you back into reality. 

Shit. Fuck.

Caught red handed, you try to keep cool as heat fills your cheeks. 

You were doing it again. He could see you out of the corner of his eye for the last hour. You were sitting on one of the benches, pretending to work, and watching him as he and his brothers worked through their katas. It had almost made him trip twice.

It's always new and exciting at first, but you've already known him for a few months. The novelty should have worn off by now. But it keeps happening. He catches you staring. It's only him, he's paid enough attention to know you don't watch his brothers like this. It's unnerving. Distracting. He'd taken a backhand to the jaw during sparring last week, and even spilled his midnight coffee on April's carpet. Twice.

"No..." you say a little too innocently.

Training had wrapped for the night, and it had been Raphael's turn to put the equipment away, leaving him alone in the dojo with you as you gathered up your paperwork. You stood, turning to leave, when your eyes landed on him. You couldn't help but follow the lines of his side with every stretch, and the way the muscles in his arms shifted under his skin as he almost reverently placed each weapon back on the wall. 

There isn't anything wrong with it, per se. You aren't looking at him with hatred or fear or disgust, if anything you look... fascinated. And not in a "weird mutant science experiment" kind of way. He can't explain it, and he can't explain the warmth that pools in his stomach every time he catches you doing it. And it's frustrating as hell.

"Then why the hell are you looking at me?" He growls, "Why the hell are you always looking at me?" He takes three steps towards you before stopping, instinct identifying pain and confusion as an an opponent, but you don't flinch. You know you're not in any real danger. Never from him. 

His scales catch the multicolored lights in the lair making him shimmer, and as he fidgets your eyes move over the gentle color shift that will only let you see his markings when the light is just right. You've never met anyone like him, seen anything like him, and everything he does is captivating. 

"Because you're beautiful," you say, simply, before you can stop yourself. 

This catches him off-guard, and he hesitates for a moment before he scoffs and looks away, "You're hilarious."

"Am I laughing?" You ask, without so much as a smile.

His eyes meet yours, hurt and suspicion deepset in amber. You can't be serious. When your features don't change, and he realizes there's no oncoming punchline, his eyes soften and fall away. 

Your jaw tightens. You hate it. You hate the way the world has ground imperfection and insecurity into every single scale. He's worth so much more than this broken place, and he's been beaten into believing he's unworthy of less than this. 

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" You ask, gently.

"Does what?"

"The fact that I find you beautiful." 

He hesitates, "... yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's bullshit." He snaps.

"Why?"

He looks at you incredulously.

"Why?" You repeat. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Why?" You nearly demand, "Why not you? Why can't you be beautiful?"

"Because I'm not." The words ring out against the cement walls, as solid and true as the foundations of the earth.

He's not. He can't be. He's not human. He's not normal. He's a 6'5" turtle with chronic pain and a bad attitude. Covered in scars, shell cracked and gouged and broken in places, he's all thick hide and hard edges. How could anyone find that "beautiful?"

A few moments pass, and you gently break the silence, "Can I ask you something?"

"I got a choice?" He sighs, his frustration dissolving into exhaustion. He doesn't want or need a pep talk, and he sure as hell doesn't want someone like you trying to make him feel better. But somewhere, in the short time you've known each other, he's begun to trust you. He motions for you to continue.

"Do you think a mountain is beautiful?"

His gaze returns to yours and blinks twice, "... What?"

"Do you think a mountain is beautiful," you repeat. 

"Uh, yeah... I guess..." His brow furrows.

"Do you think..." You think for a moment, "a sunset is beautiful?" 

He sighs heavily, shifting his weight, "Yeah. Why. What's this got to do with anything?"

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" A small smile turns the corner of your mouth. He can't help glancing at it.

He hesitates. He just met you, and he really likes spending time with you. You're quick and kind and a hell of a good listener, he's vented to you about his brothers more than once already. You have a way of talking to him that makes things make sense. And Gods, yes, you're beautiful. Like a sun he can't stop staring at, even as his eyes are burning.

"Yes," he finally admits softly, holding your gaze. 

You try to ignore the way the word ricochets around your ribcage, and push on, tilting your head slightly, and questioning softly, "Would you ever consider me ugly for not looking enough like a mountain or a sunset?" 

"What? No! Why the hell -" he stops when you raise an eyebrow. It dawns on him slowly, and he blinks at you. 

You decide it best to let him turn that over for a while. He watches you wordlessly as you walk past him, bumping his arm gently with yours on your way out of the dojo. "See you later, Red," you say with a smile, before disappearing through the door.

....

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[amourquinn]

𝐀𝐂𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ; quinn hughes

chapter one

「 author’s note 」 the first chapter is a throwback!!

↤ prologue - next chapter ↦

2020, BARCELONA

Marc sat in the living room, his elbow propped on the armrest of the couch, his chin resting on his hand. The television flickered in front of him, muted, but he wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts were elsewhere, heavy with concern for his daughter. The Camila he knew—the vibrant, lively young girl who filled their home with laughter—was a shadow of herself now. Ever since she had returned from Michigan, she had locked herself away in her room, only emerging when absolutely necessary. And even then, her presence was fleeting.

Valeria entered the room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She paused when she saw Marc’s distant expression and sat beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“¿Qué pasa, amor?” she asked softly, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

Marc let out a heavy sigh. “It’s Camila. I’m worried about her, Valeria. She’s been in her room all day again. She barely eats. She barely talks. I don’t know how to help her.”

Valeria nodded slowly, her lips pressed together in a tight line. She had been watching their daughter retreat further into herself since their return to Barcelona. At first, she thought it was just the shock of the breakup, but weeks had passed, and Camila’s sadness had not lessened. If anything, it seemed to grow heavier with time.

“lo sé,” Valeria said gently. “She’s hurting, Marc. The breakup with Quinn… it’s not something she’s handling well. But she’s so young. She doesn’t know how to process all of this.”

Marc leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I don’t want to lose her to this sadness. She’s barely herself anymore. I tried talking to her, but she just shuts me out. Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

Valeria sat quietly for a moment, thinking. Then, she stood up with purpose, her expression soft but determined. “Hablaré con ella. But first, I’ll make her something to eat. Maybe a warm meal will help her open up.”

Marc nodded, grateful for his wife’s unshakable intuition when it came to their family. “Thank you, my dear.”

She gave him a small smile and headed toward the kitchen. In moments like this, Valeria knew that actions often spoke louder than words. Her daughter needed comfort, not lectures. And nothing brought comfort like food made with love.

Valeria moved quickly, preparing a comforting meal: sopa de fideos, a simple Spanish noodle soup that always reminded her of home. As the warm aroma of simmering broth filled the kitchen, Valeria felt a spark of hope. Maybe this small gesture could begin to ease the weight pressing on her daughter’s heart.

When the soup was ready, Valeria ladled it into a bowl and placed it on a tray alongside a small plate of sliced bread. She carried the tray down the hall, pausing outside Camila’s room. The door was closed, as it always was these days. Valeria knocked softly.

“Camila, soy mamá,” she called gently. “Can I come in?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Valeria thought she wouldn’t get an answer. But then, a faint voice came from the other side. “Come in.”

Valeria pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly shut. Camila was curled up on the bed, her back against the headboard, wearing an oversized hoodie that swallowed her small frame. Her hair was unbrushed, her eyes red and tired. A laptop sat beside her, forgotten.

“Hola, mi amor,” Valeria said softly, her heart aching at the sight of her daughter. She placed the tray on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed. “I made you some sopa de fideos.”

Camila glanced at the tray but didn’t move. “Thanks, mamá,” she said quietly, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

Valeria reached out to brush a strand of hair from Camila’s face. “You haven’t eaten much lately, mija. You need to take care of yourself. Even if you’re feeling sad, your body still needs you to be kind to it.”

Camila lowered her gaze, her fingers picking at the edge of her hoodie. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Valeria sighed softly and moved closer, placing a comforting hand on her daughter’s knee. “Camila, I know you’re going through a lot right now. And I know the breakup with Quinn has been hard for you. Pero quiero que sepas algo, mi niña—you are not alone. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”

Camila’s lip trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. “I feel like I ruined everything, mamá. Quinn was so good to me, and I just… I let him go. I pushed him away. What if I made the biggest mistake of my life?”

Valeria’s eyes softened, and she pulled Camila into a gentle hug. “Ay, mi amor, no digas eso. You made the decision you thought was right for you at the time. That doesn’t make you a bad person. Relationships are complicated, and sometimes, even love isn’t enough to make things work.”

“But I still love him,” Camila admitted, her voice breaking. “And now it’s too late. I can’t take it back. I can’t fix it.”

Valeria pulled back to look into her daughter’s eyes, her hands resting on Camila’s shoulders. “Escúchame, Camila. Life isn’t about looking back and wondering ‘what if.’ It’s about moving forward, even when it’s hard. You have to forgive yourself, mija. Holding on to guilt will only weigh you down.”

Camila nodded slowly, her tears spilling over as she leaned back into her mother’s embrace. For a long moment, they sat in silence, the only sound the faint hum of the house around them.

After a while, Valeria spoke again, her tone lighter. “You know, Isabel called earlier. She and some of the family are coming over for dinner tonight. I thought it might be nice to have everyone together. And guess what I’m making?”

Camila pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes. “What?”

“Seafood paella,” Valeria said with a small smile. “Your favorite.”

A flicker of light returned to Camila’s face, and for the first time in weeks, she smiled—just a little, but it was there. “Really?”

“Sí, really,” Valeria said, her voice teasing. “I thought it might cheer you up a little. You’ve always loved it when we make paella together, remember?”

Camila nodded, the memory of family dinners and laughter filling her mind. “Thanks, mamá.”

Valeria cupped her daughter’s cheek, her thumb brushing away the remnants of her tears. “That’s my girl. Now, eat some soup, take a shower, and get ready to see everyone. Poco a poco, mija. One step at a time.”

Camila gave another small nod, her heart feeling just a little lighter. As her mother left the room, she looked at the bowl of soup on the tray. It wasn’t just food—it was love, warmth, and hope, served in the simplest way.

For a moment, she felt like she could take a breath. Maybe the road to healing wouldn’t be so impossible after all. Maybe, just maybe, she could find her way back to herself.

And for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe it.

⋆˙⟡

The warm afternoon sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the backyard. The faint hum of conversation and laughter drifted from the patio, where family members gathered, enjoying Valeria’s cooking. The earlier tension that had clouded the house seemed to have lifted, replaced by a soothing sense of togetherness.

Camila sat on the edge of the pool, her feet submerged in the cool water, watching Isabel swim a lazy lap. Her childhood best friend had arrived earlier that evening with her usual boundless energy, enveloping Camila in a tight hug the moment she walked through the door. The embrace had been a balm for Camila’s weary heart, a reminder that there were people who still saw her, who still cared.

“¡Vamos, Mila!” Isabel called, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t just sit there. Get in!”

Camila rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. Isabel always had a way of lightening her mood, even when she didn’t feel like smiling. “I just got in five minutes ago, Isa. Give me a break.”

“You call that swimming?” Isabel teased, pulling herself up to sit beside Camila. Her dark curls were dripping wet, and her cheeks were flushed from the heat. “I thought you’d have more stamina after living in the U.S. for so long.”

Camila gave her a playful shove, laughing softly. It felt good to laugh, even if it was just for a moment. “I didn’t spend all my time swimming in Michigan, you know.”

“No?” Isabel asked, her tone curious. “Then what did you do over there? You’ve barely told me anything since you got back.”

Camila hesitated, her smile faltering for a brief second. She had been so consumed by her emotions that she hadn’t even thought about catching up with Isabel. But now, sitting beside her oldest friend, the weight on her chest felt just a little lighter. Maybe it was time to share, to let someone in.

“Well,” Camila began, dipping her toes into the water. “I studied at the University of Michigan. That’s where I met most of my friends, and there was that one guy, Quinn.”

Isabel perked up at the mention of a name. “Quinn? Don’t tell me you’ve been keeping a secret boyfriend from me all this time.”

Camila let out a quiet laugh, though there was a bittersweet edge to it. “He’s… my ex, actually. We were together for a while.”

Isabel’s eyes widened, and she turned to face Camila fully, leaning forward with curiosity. “Ex? Espera, espera, start from the beginning. I need all the details. What was he like? How did you meet?”

Camila took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the rippling water in front of her. The memories of Quinn felt distant yet vivid, like a dream she couldn’t quite shake. “We met through some mutual friends at a lake house. He was—he is—an amazing guy. Kind, funny, hardworking. And he plays hockey, professionally. That was his whole world.”

Isabel whistled, impressed. “A hockey player, huh? Sounds dreamy. So what happened?”

Camila bit her lip, her heart squeezing at the question. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she could talk about it. But then she glanced at Isabel, who was watching her with genuine concern and interest. If there was anyone she could trust with this, it was Isabel.

“It just… didn’t work out,” Camila said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “We were young, and we weren’t there anymore. He was so focused on his career, and I didn’t know where I fit into all of that. I felt like I was holding him back. And he deserved someone who could support him fully, someone who wouldn’t feel… lost.”

Isabel frowned, her brows knitting together. “But what about you? What did you want?”

Camila looked down at her hands, her fingers trailing through the water. “I don’t know, Isa. Back then, I thought I was doing the right thing—for both of us. But now… now I wonder if I made a mistake. If maybe I should’ve fought harder for us.”

Isabel reached out and placed a comforting hand on Camila’s shoulder. “Mila, you can’t blame yourself for how things turned out. It sounds like you were trying to do what was best for both of you. And honestly? That takes a lot of strength.”

Camila nodded, though her chest still felt heavy. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice quieter. “He wasn’t just my boyfriend, Isa. He was my first… everything.”

Isabel’s brows lifted in understanding, and she didn’t say anything, letting Camila continue at her own pace.

“My first boyfriend. My first kiss. My first… time,” Camila admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she said the words. “He was the first person I ever really let in. And I trusted him with all of it. That’s what makes it so hard, Isa. Letting him go felt like letting go of a part of myself.”

Isabel’s expression softened, her teasing demeanor replaced by genuine care. “Oh, Camila… that’s a lot to process. No wonder it’s been so hard for you. But you know what? Your firsts don’t define you. They’re just part of your story. And even if Quinn was your first everything, that doesn’t mean he has to be your last.”

Camila smiled faintly, her heart warming at Isabel’s words. “Gracias, Isa. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” Isabel said, flashing her a bright grin. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she added, “But seriously, a professional hockey player? You’ve been holding out on me. Was he cute?”

Camila laughed, the sound genuine and light. “Yes, he was cute. Extremely cute.”

“lo sabía!” Isabel exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “And let me guess—he had that whole ‘brooding athlete’ vibe, right? Like, quiet but secretly sweet?”

Camila shook her head, still laughing. “Not exactly. He was more of the steady, dependable type. Always there when you needed him.”

Isabel sighed dramatically. “Ugh, why do all the good ones have to be in another country? You’ve ruined me, Mila. Now I’ll never settle for less.”

Camila rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

“Well,” Isabel said, standing up and stretching, “perfect or not, it sounds like he was important to you. And that’s what matters. But you know what else matters? Living your life, aquí y ahora. So how about we stop moping and actually swim? I didn’t come here to sit around!”

Camila laughed again, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “Fine, fine. Let’s swim.”

The two of them dove into the pool, the cool water washing away the lingering heaviness in Camila’s chest. And as Isabel splashed her playfully, laughing and shouting, Camila realized something: maybe moving on didn’t mean forgetting. Maybe it just meant learning to carry the memories with grace.

For now, that was enough.

2020, MICHIGAN

The sound of skates slicing across ice echoed through the empty arena, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of a puck against the boards. Quinn weaved through the neutral zone with practiced ease, his movements sharp and deliberate, though his mind was elsewhere. Across the rink, Jack and Luke passed the puck back and forth, exchanging bursts of laughter as they tried to outmaneuver each other.

It was supposed to be a casual skate, just the three of them blowing off steam after weeks of busy schedules. But for Quinn, it felt more like a futile attempt to distract himself from the gnawing ache in his chest. No matter how many laps he skated or how many shots he took, his thoughts always circled back to her.

It had been weeks—months, really—since the breakup, but the pain lingered like a dull bruise. Every once in a while, it would flare up, sharp and insistent, reminding him of what he’d lost. Today was one of those days.

“Quinn!” Jack’s voice snapped him out of his reverie. “You good?”

Quinn blinked, realizing he had drifted to a stop near the blue line, his stick resting idly on the ice. He forced a nod, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

Jack skated over, his younger brother’s sharp eyes scanning him with concern. “You’ve been ‘just thinking’ a lot lately.” he hesitated before asking. “Is this about Cam?”

Quinn sighed, taking off his hockey glove and raking a hand through his short hair. There was no point denying it. Jack had always been perceptive when it came to him, and besides, Camila had been on his mind constantly since the day they parted ways.

“It’s nothing,” Quinn said, his voice low. “Just… wondering how she’s doing.”

Jack tilted his head, leaning on his stick. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know. Luke and I can both tell you’ve been off since the breakup.”

As if on cue, Luke skated over, his expression curious. “What’s going on?”

“Quinn’s overthinking,” Jack supplied before Quinn could answer.

“I’m not overthinking,” Quinn muttered, though the weight in his chest said otherwise.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then what’s on your mind?”

Quinn hesitated, staring down at the ice. The breakup had been his decision as much as Camila’s. They both knew their priorities didn’t align—his relentless focus on hockey, her uncertainty about where she fit into his life. It had felt like the right choice at the time, but now, all he could think about was what might have been.

“I just keep wondering if I screwed up,” Quinn admitted finally. His voice was quiet, but the rawness in his tone made both of his brothers pause. “She deserved better than what I could give her. But… I don’t know. Maybe I should’ve tried harder. Maybe we could’ve made it work.”

Luke frowned, his brow furrowing. “You can’t beat yourself up over it, Quinn. If it wasn’t the right time, it wasn’t the right time.”

“Yeah,” Jack added, his tone more direct. “You both did what you thought was best. It’s not like you didn’t care about her.”

“I did care about her,” Quinn said, his voice heavy. “I still do.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the faint hum of the arena’s cooling system. Jack exchanged a glance with Luke before speaking again, his tone gentler this time. “Have you talked to her since? Like, at all?”

Quinn shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No. I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

“Well,” Jack said carefully, “she updated me a few weeks ago.”

Quinn’s head snapped up, his heart thudding in his chest. “What did she say?”

Jack shrugged, trying to play it casual. “Just that she’s doing well. She’s reconnecting with her old friends and family. Sounds like she’s figuring things out.”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He could picture her in Spain so vividly—her sun-kissed skin, her laughter carried on the Mediterranean breeze. It was the kind of life she deserved, one full of color and adventure. “I’m glad she’s doing well,” he said quietly. “I hope she’s happy.”

“You really mean that?” Luke asked, tilting his head.

Quinn nodded, his gaze distant. “Of course I do. I mean, it hurts, but… I want the best for her. Always.”

Jack’s expression softened, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I miss her too, you know.”

Quinn turned to look at him, surprised by the admission. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “She’s one of my best friends, Quinn. You know that. It sucks that things didn’t work out between you two, but… I miss having her around.”

Luke nodded in agreement. “She was always fun to have around. Felt like part of the family.”

Quinn’s heart ached at their words. Camila hadn’t just been a part of his life—she’d become a part of theirs too. And now, her absence was felt in more ways than one. “I miss her too,” he admitted quietly. “More than I can even explain.”

Jack clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. “We all do. But she’s still out there, living her life, and I’m sure she still thinks about you, Q. Just because you’re not together doesn’t mean she’s forgotten you.”

Quinn nodded, though the weight in his chest didn’t ease. “Thanks, guys.”

Jack gave him a small smile. “Anytime.”

They skated for another hour, the familiar rhythm of the game helping to clear Quinn’s mind, if only temporarily.

⋆˙⟡

Later that night, after the arena lights had dimmed and the three of them had returned to the quiet of their home, the ache resurfaced.

Quinn lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the minutes ticked by. His phone sat on the nightstand, tantalizingly close. He tried to ignore the urge, but eventually, he gave in, reaching for it and opening Instagram.

He hadn’t looked at Camila’s profile since the breakup. It felt too raw, too close. But tonight, he couldn’t help himself. His thumb hovered over her name for a moment before he tapped it, bracing himself for the flood of emotions.

Her profile picture hadn’t changed—it was still the same radiant smile he remembered so well. But it was her most recent post that caught his attention. A photo of her at the beach, the sun setting behind her as she stood barefoot in the sand. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair tousled by the breeze, her expression serene.

Quinn’s heart ached as he stared at the image. She looked happy—truly happy—and he wanted to believe that was enough for him. But a small part of him couldn’t help wondering if she ever thought about him, if she missed him the way he missed her.

He ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. This was what he wanted for her, wasn’t it? A fresh start, a chance to chase her dreams without the weight of his career holding her back. She deserved all of it and more.

But still, as he set his phone down and turned off the light, the image of her lingered in his mind. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t shake the quiet hope that, somewhere in the depths of her heart, she still held a piece of him, too.

© amourquinn

[elysiaheaven2]

A poem to my childhood fort....(part 1) Ronin x G.n reader

Words:3000

Genre: Angst to fluff, Gift to @sincerelyyourslilly

(Reader is G.N)

Ronin x G.N Reader

All you ever wanted was to be a successful crime writer. Not the next best-seller, not a household name—just someone who could spin a story without that relentless, soul-crushing writer's block creeping in. Every time you opened a blank document, it stared back at you, mocking, empty. And every time, you closed it, frustration bubbling over.

Why was it so hard? You’ve written before. Sure, some of it was cringe fanfiction—okay, a lot of it was cringe fanfiction—but writing used to come so easily. Back then, the words practically bled onto the page. Now, they just... don’t.

You needed inspiration. Something visceral, raw, a spark that could ignite your creative inferno. It wouldn’t come from endless Google searches, that was for sure. Inspiration like that demanded you dig deeper—into the recesses of your heart, into shadows most people were too afraid to explore.

Surely, there was no harm in doing some light research, right? It’s not like you were going to end up on some FBI watchlist just for being curious about murder methods.

Right?

Being a news reporter gave you plenty of access to grim realities. You had an eye for the grotesque, the macabre. You couldn’t help but marvel at the artistry in the work of the city’s most infamous killer. The Butcher, as the media had branded them, was a twisted kind of genius. Their victims—if you could even call them that—were their canvas. Each one a masterpiece of gore and carnage. Fleshed out, literally, in a way that screamed passion and precision.

To the public, it was nauseating. To you?

It was inspiring.

You toyed with the idea of writing about them, a crowbar-wielding serial killer stalking the streets. The thing is...you didn’t know much about crowbars. Did they bash? Bludgeon? Crush? Did it take more than one hit? You needed details, and where better to get them than the internet?

T.com had a certain charm to it. The best (and worst) of humanity hung out there. You figured it was safer than delving into the dark web, so you posted your question there.

asking for a friend hey can anyone with experience killing a person with a crowbar dm me, it's really important thank you.

The post was short, straightforward, and definitely not suspicious. Nothing that would have people side-eyeing you...right? You weren’t that desperate to go digging into the deep web for inspiration. Yet.

You hit “post.”

And then you waited.

It didn’t take long for someone to slide into your DMs.

That DM changed everything.

You met him,

Your muse. Your inspiration. Your… childhood tragedy.

The sender’s username was cryptic, but the link they shared—“killrch8t_b00t.mango”—was even more so. Against your better judgment, you clicked it. What you found was...unexpected. A server. A private chatroom for people like you.

Only, they weren’t writers. They were killers.

At first, you didn’t know it was him. But looking back now, it all makes sense. So, dear writer, here’s what happened:

You were just a simple writer, but you somehow got invited to a serial killer server by a guy who apparently adores crowbars. It didn’t take long for you to realize that this guy? He was the Butcher.

So, naturally, you decided to play along. To “slay,” as they say.

At first, you didn’t realize who you were talking to. The Butcher. The Butcher. You thought you were chatting with some edgy wannabe, someone cosplaying as the city’s most notorious murderer. But as the conversation progressed, it became clear.

It was him.

He was surprisingly...charming. Flirty, even, in a deranged sort of way. The kind of guy who’d make you laugh one second and send shivers down your spine the next.

So, naturally, you decided to play along. To “slay,” as they say. You started by reacting to his roles he reacted with:

😇 Fun ❌ Crowbar 🔪 Sharp Objects 🩸 I love the thrill of the rush 😮 I have this thing called an ego

You figured that maybe if you showed him the right mix of enthusiasm, he’d notice you. The Devil himself would grant you his blessings—or maybe just the motivation you so desperately needed.

After all, all his crimes... they involve a crowbar.

It was almost too easy to talk to him. His messages were a mix of sarcasm, wit, and razor-sharp insight. But there was an edge to everything he said, a challenge beneath the surface. He asked questions that made your pulse quicken, like he was daring you to prove yourself. To impress him.

Then he upped the ante.

He wanted you to kill someone. Not just theoretically, but for real. To send a picture. Proof. He wanted you to baptize yourself in blood—or maybe he just wanted to see how far you’d go to entertain him.

You laughed it off at first. He had to be joking. Right?

But he wasn’t.

The scary part wasn’t that he asked. It was that you didn’t immediately say no.

The conversations grew darker, deeper. Somewhere along the way, he stopped being just “The Butcher” and became a person to you. Someone sad. Lonely, even. Beneath the bravado and the bloodlust, there was something broken about him. And damn it if you weren’t the kind of person who thought you could fix people.

Strangely, you started to feel bad for him. He seemed... sad. Not in a pathetic way, but in a way that made you think: Hey, maybe this edgy maniac has layers. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could “fix” him, but maybe, just maybe, you could understand him.

But the thought still lingered.

You joked about plotting his murder. His reply? He blushed. He actually blushed. The idea of you thinking about him—obsessing over him—clearly thrilled him. It was hard to tell if he was serious or just toying with you. Either way, it felt like flirting.

Was it flirting? It was definitely something.

Everything was fine. Well, as fine as it could be when you were chatting with a notorious killer. He hadn’t turned on you. Not yet.

And then the channel appeared.

“artistic-license.”

The Butcher’s tone shifted the moment it opened. Gone was the playful banter, replaced with something cold and calculating. He knew who you were. Knew more than you’d ever shared.

“You can be my muse,” he said, voice dripping with menace. “As long as you’re willing to be my victim.”

Your blood ran cold.

It had been a game to him, all along. A hunt. And now, you weren’t sure if you were the predator or the prey.

Oh, shit.

Maybe it felt like you were in a chokehold, always watched, unable to escape, because your heart already beat only for the server. It wasn’t just obsession; it was survival. Once you left, it felt like your heart stopped altogether. That’s what kept you tethered, trapped in a conflict with yourself. Afraid of the nightmares. Afraid of him.

Was it the people? Or was it him? The Devil himself, Ronin.

Oh, but you didn’t leave, did you? You stayed. You stayed because every moment away from that server gnawed at you. And even when you closed your eyes, sleep wasn’t an escape. Not from him. Not from the Devil.

The dream was vivid. A whispered laughter danced through your mind, teasing and cold. A crowbar pressed against your neck, its chill seeping into your skin. The man in front of you had a Lucifer’s smile, a grin both wicked and divine. His eyes held a whisper of flame—bright, hot, dangerous. He wasn’t just playing at being the Devil; he embodied it. The Devil himself. Your Devil.

He leaned closer, and his breath was warm against your ear. “Why fight it, darling?” he murmured. “You came here for me. You stayed for me. And you’ll never leave… for me.” His voice was honeyed poison, sweet and lethal.

You tried to step back, but the crowbar pressed harder, pinning you in place. His laughter curled around you, low and dark, like smoke from a fire you couldn’t escape.

“Oh, you’re scared,” he said, and his grin widened. “Good. Fear looks so pretty on you.”

You wanted to scream, to lash out, but you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you, frozen under the weight of his gaze. He tilted his head, studying you with an almost tender curiosity, as if deciding whether to devour you whole or savor you bite by bite.

“You know what I love about you?” he whispered. “Your heart. It beats so fast, so loud, like it’s trying to call me closer. And you know what’s funny? It’s mine. Always has been. You just didn’t realize it yet.”

His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was soft, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“Don’t look so frightened, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a velvet caress. “You wanted this. You wanted me.”

And then, just as quickly as it began, it ended. The crowbar disappeared. The Devil vanished. You woke with a start, gasping for air, your pulse hammering against your ribs. It was just a dream. Just a stupid, terrifying, beautiful dream.

You woke from a dream, if you could even call it that. A whispered laughter echoed in your ears, chilling and intimate, and the ghost of a crowbar lingered against your neck. The man in front of you—his grin sharp as a blade, his eyes alight with a flicker of Hell itself. He was Lucifer's shadow, Lucifer's whisper—no, not a shadow. The Devil incarnate. The Devil he had to be.

Except… you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t. Not entirely.

You could write. Or you could log in and see what the server was doing. The decision was easy.

You logged in. The server was quiet. No one was online.

Except for him.

Mr. Devil himself.

A notification popped up: Incoming call.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the mouse. Then, with a resigned sigh, you clicked accept.

The screen flickered, and there he was. Ronin—sharp-eyed and grinning like he knew every secret you’d ever tried to bury. His voice was a low drawl, smooth and intoxicating.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning closer to the camera as if trying to bridge the digital gap between you.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice more breathless than you intended. “What are you doing up so late?”

His grin widened. “Same could be said for you, darlin’. What’s up? Stayin’ up late for that midnight inspiration?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Why are you doing this?” you finally asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Ronin laughed, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Fucking with writers is my specialty, what can I say?” His gaze pinned you in place, even through the screen. “I told you, darlin’. You come to me, and I give you whatever the fuck you want. Isn’t this your dream? I’m your wish, come true.”

His voice dipped lower, each word a dark caress. “And you’re fucked, ‘cause I know exactly who you are, Y/N.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Did I mention that I got your IP the second you logged onto the server? Yeah, yeah. Internet safety and all that shit. Don’t talk to strangers, right? ‘Cause you never know who you might come across.”

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. His grin turned sharper, almost predatory.

“Lost for words?” he teased, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “I know. I’m so fucking charming.”

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen up, sweetheart. I’ll be visiting you soon. Crowbar in hand. Unless…” His eyes gleamed with wicked delight. “Unless you find me first. Happy hunting, baby.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your reflection in the now-black screen. Your mind raced, heart pounding in your chest.

You were in trouble.

Loving the Devil had been your first mistake. Thinking he might actually love you back was your second. And falling for his corruption, his twisted games—that was your third and most damning sin.

Ronin had known exactly what he was doing when he invited you to his server. He’d seen through your persona, found amusement in your attempts to remain aloof. To him, you were a game, a challenge—and he wanted to win. He always did.

Now, there was only one way out. He’d told you himself: you had to find him first. The question was, could you?

It was 14 February.

It was February 14th. Oh, shit. You had dreamt…

Of your first love.

Angelwood.

A place you wouldn’t mind setting ablaze, just for the hell of it.

It ruined your life. It scarred you. It made you feel worthless.

Angelwood—a repressed, self-righteous town drenched in hollow piety.

You wanted to die. Your family had discovered something about you, something that didn’t align with their narrow version of normal. Something unholy, they said.

They went to the Pastor. He declared you a changed person. No, worse. He called you a demon. Because you had dared to correct him.

Didn’t God love everyone? Didn’t He embrace whatever or whoever you were? You screamed those questions into the void of your mind, but no answers ever came. Only shame, only pain.

Standing on the bridge, it felt right. They said that if you died like this, you’d go to hell.

To hell with them, then.

But it didn’t happen.

Someone… someone stopped you. A bag was thrown over your head, and you were yanked back. Struggling, gasping, you felt their grip tighten. They didn’t remove the bag. They just… held you.

“Hah, it’s those bastards who should be dying,” a voice whispered, raw and jagged, like shattered glass on pavement. “Why you, darlin’?”

The words dripped like honeyed venom into your ear, muffled by the cloth that separated you. Their breath was warm, close. Too close.

Their hands… they were slick, coated with something thick and wet. Paint? No. You knew it wasn’t paint. A chill ran down your spine as their grip shifted to your throat, firm yet deliberate.

“If you’re willing to go to hell by dying, then live. Live to go to hell by committing the mistake they all cursed you for. Be the devil they see you as. That’s the word of your good ol’ Beaufort.”

Beaufort…?

You woke up with a start.

Ah.

Your cheeks burned. You had dreamt about them again—the person who had saved you.

It was because of them that you ran. You left Angelwood, the town that broke you, and you started over. They were right.

They had saved you.

And so, you lived.

Your first love....

After finishing all your daily activities, you logged into the server. Sure, Ronin might have doxxed you, and you might very well be on his victim list. But hey, you’re still alive! For now.

It was Valentine’s Day, after all. A day of love and romance—and apparently, the Devil himself had a touch of sentimentality when he wasn’t actively planning your demise. You logged in, partly to distract yourself and partly to see how Luca and Feli were celebrating. Those two were pure, unadulterated sweetness, even amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

And they didn’t disappoint. Their interactions were as heartwarming as ever. Feli teased Luca; Luca gushed over her, a lovesick puppy in human form. But then, Angel decided to stir the pot.

"How many serial killers are in love, and who’s in the singles’ awareness club?" she asked.

Luca and Feli, of course, remained adorably entangled in their own little world. But then Angel turned her sights on you.

"What about you, @Readerintocrowbars? Anything you’d like to share?"

Your heart stuttered. Angel’s knack for pushing buttons was unparalleled. You were about to type "single," keeping it simple, when a direct message popped up. It wasn’t from Luca or Feli.

It was from him.

"Go on," Ronin’s message read, "tell them you’re dancing with the Devil."

The audacity of this man. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your frustration bubbling into something like amusement. There was, after all, a certain poetic irony in loving a man who was actively planning your downfall.

Still, you couldn’t let him win so easily. Could you?

“I’m with the Devil,” you typed proudly.

Ronin’s response came almost instantly:

“Loud and proud! I like it!”

Your stomach flipped. Was that pride in his tone? Satisfaction? Maybe both? Before you could analyze it, Angel piped up again, suggesting everyone hop into a call since she’d been too busy with work to catch up properly.

The call was lively, as expected. Luca quoted a line from that infamous movie about talking cars, and the laughter that followed was infectious. Everything felt normal—or as normal as it could, given the company.

Until someone started teasing.

"You and Ronin, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Luca sing-songed, earning a round of snickers.

The laughter erupted again, and your face burned. Tragic? Maybe. A little amusing? Definitely. You couldn’t help but think that Beaufort didn’t save you all those years ago just for this moment—to be teased for flirting with death himself. And yet, here you were, tangled in a devilish game that only seemed to deepen with every passing day.

Narrative Version

The air was thick with tension as Ronin leaned back against the wall, his smirk sharp enough to cut through the silence. His gaze, dark and piercing, settled on his companion, waiting for the game to unfold. The words "Truth or Dare" hung in the air like a challenge.

He grinned, his voice dripping with a dark amusement. "Happy Valentine's, darling. How's your obsession with me going?"

A slow, teasing smile tugged at the corners of their lips as they replied, the words dripping with equal parts sarcasm and intrigue. "As good as good could be."

Ronin chuckled, his eyes glinting. "You're quite the character! But I'm gettin' ahead of myself. Truth or dare?"

They raised an eyebrow, feeling the familiar pull of their dynamic. "I thought I got to choose your truths."

"Whoops," Ronin muttered, feigning mock surprise. "Someone hasn't forgotten our little rule-change! You're smart. I'll let ya have at it. What've you got to say, baby?"

They took a breath, then spoke, their voice cool and composed, like they were issuing a challenge. "Truth. What's your tragedy?"

For a moment, Ronin's grin faltered, replaced by something darker—a flicker of something deep, something raw. He leaned in, his voice lowering as if the words were almost too heavy to bear. "Shit, you want me to do the full villain monologue? Fine, darlin'. We've got all day."

They gave a small, silent nod, knowing this would be something they weren’t going to forget. "So what's the devil got to say?"

Ronin's laugh was a low rumble, a sound that might have been bitter if it weren’t so wrapped in his chaos. "Dunno, whatever the fuck you want. I'm hell outta Angelwood. I stuck the pastor through his cross an' murdered a dozen more. Gone through the cities and danced devilry in 'em too."

Their lips pressed together, skepticism evident in their eyes. "I don't believe it."

His eyes burned with intensity, a mixture of fury and something more vulnerable. "All there is to me, that's all."

The silence that followed was sharp, and then they spoke again, their voice slightly softer. "That's a story, not a tragedy."

A sharp grin twisted his features, cruel and knowing. "Hoped you wouldn't notice."

Ronin straightened, his demeanor shifting, turning colder. "I had... someone... once. They were my... past. My childhood everything." His gaze softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. "They hated to love me. Dying in it, their fuckin' tragic femininity, perfect girlhood bullshit. An' that was my dream come true. I made myself the devil to... save them."

They watched him closely, feeling the weight of his words settle between them. The pause hung thick in the air as they pressed on. "What happened?"

His voice dropped to a low rasp, like something venomous escaping his lips. "It's a shitty repressed Christ-loving town. What d'you think happened?"

They felt the words cut deeper than they'd intended. "They're gone. And I'm the devil becoming. Nothin' less, nothin' more."

A somber silence passed before they responded softly, "I'm sorry."

Ronin's eyes locked onto theirs, an almost mocking glint dancing in his stare. "Cause it's all your fault. Sure. Say it again and again and we'll save her together. Curse my name three times and rewind time. Clap your hands, call me a devil, let's Faustian bargain this shit out. That's how it fuckin' works."

His hands flexed as if he were toying with the very air around him, the symbols on his body all too real to him. "Oh, my Satanic symbols mean nothin' to ya?"

They tilted their head slightly, unbothered. "Eh, just means you're edgy."

Ronin’s lips curled into something between a smile and a snarl. "I chose it."

Their voice softened, almost pleading, as if they were trying to reach him beyond the facade he wore. "You don't have to... do this."

The air shifted again, and Ronin stood taller, his presence dominating the room. "Pretend you're larger-than-life. Like you're... the devil you are."

"And that's the rub," he muttered, a dark edge creeping into his words. "The devil I am. An' you can't deny it, can ya? That's who I am."

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "What d'you think, darling? Is it tragic enough for you?" His tone was an almost mockingly sweet whisper as if daring them to say otherwise.

RONIN leaned back, his smirk fading into something softer, something almost vulnerable. "So," he drawled, breaking the silence, "what do you think? Tragic enough for ya?"

You hesitated, your gaze fixed on him. "It’s true," you finally admitted, your voice quieter now. "It’s… tragic."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you hung heavy, thick with shared secrets and the weight of things unsaid. Finally, you broke the silence. "What if I told you," you began cautiously, "that I’ve had my own sad experiences with Angelwood?"

RONIN’s eyes snapped to yours, surprise flickering across his face. "Angelwood? You… you’re from there too?" His expression was a mixture of shock and curiosity, like he was piecing together a puzzle he didn’t know existed. "What, did the town call you a devil too?"

A bitter laugh escaped you. "Something like that," you admitted. "I… didn’t realize you were from the same shitty town. That explains a lot." You paused, glancing down as memories threatened to resurface. "That’s why I’ve always hated Christmas," you added, almost as an afterthought.

At that, RONIN looked away, his jaw tightening. His fingers drummed against his knee, a restless rhythm betraying his discomfort. The vulnerability from earlier was back, tugging at the edges of his devil-may-care facade.

You studied him for a moment before speaking again. "From the looks of it," you said carefully, "you must’ve had… someone. A past lover, maybe? That’s who… Ther… that person was, wasn’t it?"

His reaction was immediate and telling—a sharp intake of breath, a brief clench of his fists. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t confirm it either. Instead, he looked away, refusing to meet your eyes.

Something stirred in the back of your mind, a fragment of a memory that had been buried for years. "Now that I think about it," you murmured, almost to yourself, "it sounds familiar. I might’ve noticed them once."

RONIN’s head turned slightly at that, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but the words never came. And just like that, the fragile thread connecting you both was severed, the silence between you growing heavier with every passing second.

Neither of you said anything after that. Maybe it was better this way, leaving the past untouched, the wounds unspoken.

You paused, your gaze flickering down to your hands, fingers tapping restlessly against the cold surface. The moment felt strange, like the silence between you and Ronin was both too heavy and too light, like it was waiting for something deeper to unfold.

You took a deep breath before speaking again, voice softer now, a tremor beneath your words. "My past... it's true. There was a pastor—someone my family trusted completely. They didn’t see me for what I was. Instead, they took me to him, believing I was... possessed. That something inside me made me broken, that I wasn’t just going through problems. They thought a demon caught me."

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. "They didn’t get that I wasn’t crazy. But the pastor? He told them I was. That I was the devil himself. And my family—my own flesh and blood—they believed him. They stopped seeing me as , their child. They saw a demon. They called me that, said I didn’t deserve to live. That I was better off dead."

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and raw. You swallowed hard, shaking your head as if trying to shake off the memories. "So, I thought about it. Thought about ending it before... before they could."

You sat back, the weight of your own past pressing down on you as you began to speak, your voice raw but steady. "It's true," you said softly, looking away for a moment as the memories started to unravel. "The pastor, the one my family trusted... he took me there. Instead of getting me the help I needed, he... he decided I was possessed. That I was some demon, not a person who just had problems."

A bitter laugh escaped you, but it quickly died in the air. "They believed him, you know? My own family... They didn’t see me. They saw what he said, believed every word of it. 'The devil's child,' they called me." You paused, feeling the heaviness of it all. "They told me I didn’t deserve to live. And in the end, I almost believed them."

RONIN’s eyes narrowed, studying you closely, but he didn’t interrupt. There was something in his gaze, something that almost looked like recognition.

You closed your eyes, gathering your thoughts. "Before I could do it—before I could end it all... someone saved me. They didn’t show themselves, just a shadow. Covered in blood, but they didn’t hurt me. They... they spoke to me, offered advice. Told me that I wasn’t broken. That there was something more. Something that could keep me going."

The memory felt like a whisper in your mind, fading in and out, but the core of it remained. "That’s what I am now. That’s why I’m always so... adamant. Sticking to this point, this dynamic. I’m not the devil they wanted me to be. I’m someone else."

You turned your gaze back to Ronin, your voice taking on a different edge, almost teasing. "And that’s what I see between us. You’re always saying things like, 'Die for me, kill me like a loverboy would, carve out your aorta and serve it on a silver platter.' It’s your trademark. Your little game. But I’ve got something else in mind."

The air shifted as you leaned in slightly, eyes locking with his, your voice lowering. "What if I said, 'Live for me, thrive in this hellscape with me. May death do us part.'"

For a moment, it felt like you were the one pulling the strings, the roles shifting. You grinned, watching Ronin’s expression flicker with something... amused, almost intrigued. "We play our little game, don’t we? Witty banter, dangerous charm, back and forth, like some twisted dance. But, maybe… maybe this time, we dance a different tune."

You chuckled softly, leaning back, your smile lingering. "It’s cute, isn’t it? The way we both cling to these dynamics, testing each other. How cute you and I are together... this twisted little connection we’ve built. You're someone who finds death hot. I find living hot."

You could feel Ronin’s eyes on you, the tension between you both shifting again, but now with a certain understanding—a kind of recognition of the game that was always being played, the layers of darkness you both wore like masks.

"So you should totally let me live." You said with a wink.

"Haha, No Darling, Sorry."

"It was..worth a shot you know.."

RONIN chuckled darkly, the sound rich with mockery. "Live for me, thrive in this hellscape," he mimicked, a wicked grin tugging at his lips as he leaned forward. "Oh, how cute. You really think you’re the opposite of me? You think that makes you better? That somehow, you can survive all this... this mess we’re in and I can't?"

His eyes glinted with amusement as he continued, the taunt hanging in the air, sharp and biting. "Well, sweetheart, keep thinking that. But the truth is," his smile stretched wider, almost too wide, as if savoring the irony. "We're both just as fucked up. And you know it."

He leaned back, eyes narrowing with that familiar calculating gaze. "Anyway," he muttered, almost to himself, before focusing back on you, "Truth or dare, darling?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if you were ready for another one of his mind games. "Truth."

He didn’t hesitate, his eyes gleaming with sudden interest. "Alright then," he began, voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "What’s the name of the person who made you want to live? Who saved you from... yourself?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. You stared at him for a beat, the answer already clear in your mind, but somehow, saying it out loud felt different.

"Beaufort," you replied softly, the name slipping from your lips like it had always belonged there.

RONIN’s eyes widened, a flicker of something dark crossing his features—surprise, recognition, maybe even a twinge of jealousy. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the same cool indifference he always wore.

He remained silent for a moment, studying you like he was trying to figure out something about you he hadn’t seen before. The tension was palpable, the space between you both electric with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his face. "So," he said, voice low, dangerous, "you already know the answer, don’t you? You already know."

Your eyes narrowed, confused but intrigued. "What do you mean?" you asked, leaning forward just a little, trying to read him. "What answer?"

He didn’t respond immediately, instead just smiling like he held some private victory. The silence stretched, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was toying with you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. "Truth," you said again, a playful edge to your voice despite the growing tension. "I want to hear your name."

RONIN’s grin grew wider, sharper, and he leaned closer to the screen. His gaze was now fixed on you, a glint of something dangerous dancing in his eyes. "You want my name, huh?" he asked softly, voice almost too smooth. "You’ll hear it. In your dreams, darling."

He paused, letting the words sink in, watching you carefully. "I’ll whisper it to you, if you really want to know. But... I think you’ll hear it soon enough. You’ll dream about it already, won’t you?"

Before you could respond, he cut the call abruptly, leaving the silence hanging in the air, thick with unanswered questions and the promise of something far darker.

You quickly reconnect the call, the screen flickering before Ronin’s face fills the frame again, his expression a mix of amusement and that ever-present darkness in his eyes. He leans back, his tongue lazily brushing over his lips as he smirks.

"Back again?" he drawls, voice dripping with mock curiosity. "What is it, darling? Got something more to say? What’s left to talk about?"

You meet his gaze, steady and unwavering. "I understand what you meant earlier," you say, your voice a little more serious this time, though there’s still a playful edge to it. "You won’t tell me your name. I have to figure it out myself, right?"

RONIN’s smirk widens, his tongue poking out as he nods slowly. "Exactly, babe. That’s the fun of it. You gotta solve the puzzle. Don’t expect me to make it easy for you."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "I get it," you say, then pause for a beat, leaning a little closer to the camera. "But, I have a request. Will the devil hear it?"

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued, yet a bit amused. "A request, huh? What do you want, darling? Ask away."

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "I’ve always celebrated with my crush... whoever it may be. And honestly, whether I die tomorrow or not, I want to spend the time I have left with someone I like. I’ve chosen you, Ronin. Even if you want to kill me... I want to live with you. So, what do you say?"

You pause for a moment, watching him, then slowly extend your hand toward the camera, your fingers trembling just slightly. "Will you be my date? My love... until our time comes? Even before you kill me?"

RONIN’s eyes flicker with something—surprise? Maybe a little satisfaction? His lips twitch as he watches you, and for a second, you can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or sneer.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and dark, yet there's a genuine edge to it that almost sounds like... admiration. "You’re something else, aren’t you?" he mutters, his gaze flicking away from the camera for a moment, his fingers twitching as if he’s considering something.

"You really think a little thing like death is gonna stop us?" he asks, his voice almost contemplative now, his usual bravado slipping just slightly. "You’re not scared of me, are you?"

You don't flinch, keeping your hand out, your voice steady despite the tension. "No. I’m not scared. I want to be with you."

There’s a long silence, and for a moment, you think he might not answer. But then, his eyes meet yours again, and his grin spreads slowly, like a snake ready to strike.

"Fine," he says, his voice quieter, almost sincere, though still laced with that dangerous edge. "Yes. I’ll be your date... until the time comes. It’s cute, really, how you keep pushing me. But let’s see how long that lasts."

He looks away briefly, his lips curling into something dangerously close to a smile, though his eyes remain distant, almost lost in thought.

"Guess I kinda wanted to say yes, anyway," he mutters under his breath, but you hear it. You catch the shift in his tone—just enough to know that maybe, just maybe, he’s not as indifferent as he lets on.

With that...You spent your last love-day they say, With the man who wants to kill you and carve out your aorta.

So pretty.

this is just part 1! ill do part 2 soon!

[savedanafamily]

@ot3

“Dear friend ,

I am writing to you today with a heart full of hope and faith in the kindness of your hearts ❤️. I'm going through very difficult times and I need your support 🙏🏼. Every donation, no matter how small, can make a big difference 🌟 and help me meet these challenges.

Your donation is not just an amount 💸, it is a support and support 💪🏽, and hope for a better future. Together we can make adversity stories that tell hope and dignity 🌈. Contribute even with something simple, every post brings me a step closer to the life I aspire to 💫.

🌐 Donation Link: [https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-dana-get-her-arm-back]

Thank you from the heart to everyone who contributes and supports. You are hope 💖.”

Hi everyone, I just want to bring your attention to Nader's campaign again today. He's 17 years old and doing everything he can to try and support his family during the genocide. He has far more on his plate than any teenager should, and I'd love if anyone who has the means could help them all out.

Vetted as #4 @ Gazavetters

[chronically-ghosted]

Despite 2024, we still made it to 2025! Now let's celebrate that accomplishment!

Thank you to everyone who submitted to celebrate this fandom and the wonderful people in it! Fandom is about community, and we are nothing without it. I got the warm and fuzzies reading through all the lovely submissions so I hope you feel it too! Happy New Year!

🥶 nominate a person who made the year extra special

🌟 @cavillscurls nominated @kiwisbell 🌟

and my shoutout goes to the very special @kiwisbell. not only is she the most trusted beta, kindest friend, and brilliant writer, but most recently (and excitingly) the greatest collaborator and writing partner. meeting her—and meeting her in PERSON this summer—remain the highlights of my year. i’m not going to go into my dissertation on the importance and special nature of internet friendships, but just know that the light, creativity, and openness she brings to this fandom and to my life are things i will never take for granted. i am certain our next year will be better because she’s in it! I LOVE YOU.

(this is the attached photo and i HAD to include it 😭)

🌟 @bitchesuntitled nominated @beefrobeefcal 🌟

Hooooly shit. What can I say about Kiki that I haven’t already told her?! She is an amazing human being and I aspire to be like her. She is so kind even when others are not so nice. She’s one of the most creative people I know and I absolutely love when we get on a tangent in ALL CAPS ABOUT AN IDEA. She is so willing to help anyone and everyone- whether it’s a fic or a moodboard or you’re just feeling down in the dumps about something! I think she is one of the best people in this fandom and I am so glad to have her in my life ❤️ Also just a bit of a personal story to show the kind of person she is, when I was first getting sober I was worried about how I would handle July 4th because as an American it’s a very ‘Merica fuck yeah! Let’s drink! holiday and she checked in on me multiple times during the day and let me just ramble to her about different things so that I wouldn’t be tempted to drink 🥰❤️🥰❤️ So yeah, she’s a good egg.

🌟 @sixhours nominated @bumblepony 🌟

Hello m'dear, I have an entry for your end-of-year celebration. 🥶 I wanted to give a shout-out to @bumblepony who, in addition to being a talented and prolific fic writer, has commissioned sooooooo many artworks for other TLOU fanfic writers this year (myself included). She's a gem, and this fandom is so fortunate to have her. 🥰

🌟 @bluestar22x nominated @trulybetty and @morallyinept 🌟

Can't narrow down my pick for this to one, so @trulybetty and @morallyinept are both getting nominated. Both have been so kind and supportive of me and both are super talented writers. Thank you both for your kind words and sharing your wonderful fics.

🌟 @i-love-movies nominated @thegreenkid2 🌟

I nominate @thegreenkid2 with whom I had so many lovely chats about Pedro and movies in general sometimes for hours and very late into the night. I really enjoy geeking out together over so many different things.

🌟 @sp00kymulderr nominated @dieterbravobrainrotclub 🌟

Every member of the brainrot club, for being feral and silly and fun and thoughtful and insightful in so many ways. For making my year extra special. For making so many fun memories, and helping to lighten the mood. For your dedication to the man that is Dieter Bravo.

☃️ your favorite line of fic that you wrote this year

🌟 @bluestar22x - The Outcast

Favorite line: Guiding you into your future, like you had guided him home.

Fic: The Outcast

What makes it special to you: It's hard to pick one line from a fanfic I wrote this year, but I do love this line that ends my story "The Outcast". It's the first favorite line I thought of because it's simple and calls back to how it began. The fic is very themed around finding/discovering what you need with the help of another person.

🌟 @bitchesuntitled - Xerox

Favorite line: Jamie lets out a pathetic, “Oh d-d-dear,” sounding almost identical to Piglet from Winnie the Pooh, and audibly gulps while furiously nodding his head.

Fic: Xerox

What makes it special to you: I knew from the moment I started writing this story that I wanted Xerox!Pedro to be this inexperienced bumbling idiot and thinking about him stuttering out an “Oh dear” like Piglet cracked me up so much 🤣 It still makes me laugh whenever I see it/think about it

🌨️ your favorite memory from fandom this year

🌟 @sp00kymulderr had a favorite memory with @chronically-ghosted

We created the Dieter Bravo Brainrot Club in January 2024 and it has been easily my favourite place to hangout this year. I'm so glad that it exists, and I want to shout out: YOU, Taylor. The Dieter brainrot would not even exist without you. I love how we have spent so much time together this year spiralling over That Man. I love that I got to read so many of your wonderful fics about him, and scream about him with you. I love that we created a space together for others who feel the same way. I love being your friend.

🌟 @i-love-movies had a favorite memory with @miss-mandalorian

This fandom gave me a lovely friendship with @miss-mandalorian which I cherish very much even though a big ass ocean lies between us and we have yet to meet IRL. She just recently set me the most lovely gift. 💖

🌲 your favorite piece of media you made for fandom this year

🌟 @i-love-movies is super proud of:

Gladiator 2 South Park! Pedros

"I made this set of Gladiator 2 South Park! Pedros. I haven't posted a lot of South Park! Pedro this year cause I didn't feel very creative. This one sparked some of my creativity again."

[sahrii]

hey dear!!! can I pretty please get a round bouquet of orchids with 3/7 flowers? (whichever you prefer!) I've been dying to give sugawara flowers <333

sugawara koushi!

warnings! fluff, gn!reader, first time writing for suga, forced proximity, mentions of a drunk man, suga being cute, don’t mind the switch from uncapitalised to capitalised sentence (or semi capitalised LOL) it’s bc i switched from my phone to my laptop.

word count! 1267

i also wanna thank @kiwispritz for helping me w the idea and @wakeupmaddie for also helping me and beta reading!!! thanks guys <3

100 followers event

[12.08am]

the stygian night was beautifully decorated by feeble stars, but despite that, it still managed to shed tears of blue threads that collided with the crestfallen ground, creating a piercing yet melodious drone of sound.

“it’s a bit cold, isn’t it? would you like my jacket?” asked suga from beside you.

“uh, i’ll be fine! thanks for offering though,” you awkwardly smile. not only was it raining, but it was windy. the wind occasionally blew an eerie whistle in your ear, sending a shiver down the small of your back.

the bus that you were waiting for was due to come 15 minutes ago, yet here you were, 15 minutes later, shielding your self from the shrewd rain under the bus shelter which seemed to be barely holding itself against the rain.

“we are sorry to announce that the last bus is cancelled due to the an unforeseen incident. we apologise for any inconvenience caused. thank you,” the rusty speaker hanging from the top corner of the bus stop announced.

you snap your head to look at suga, only to find his molten silver eyes as wide as yours. his lips were pressed into a disapproving, thin line.

“uh oh,” you say. “what do we do now?” it was a rhetorical question. You knew what you had to do. Walk under this pouring rain.

“we’re gonna have to walk,” he muttered despondently. “or sleep here,” he joked,  pulling out his phone from the pocket of his jacket. You stayed silent, watching as his long fingers typed something on the phone.

“the closest convenience store is a 15 minutes walk from here. We can get umbrellas and then I’ll walk you home,” his eyes met yours as he stuffed his phome back into his pockets.

“you don’t have to walk me home, I can just—”

“I’m not having any of this,” he cut you off. “I’m walking you home full stop,” you wanted to argue back, but the way he stared into your eyes made it hard, so you defeatedly gave in.

“fine, but you’ll let me get you coffee next time,”

“fine by me,”

[12.25am]

Your clothes clang to your silhouette, as if becoming one with your skin, and the hood of your thin jacket did close to nothing to shield you from the rain.  Or from the loud hum of the wind that made the hairs on your skin stand.

It felt a little warmer suddenly. And a little less wet. It took you a while to process the sudden change, and when you did, your head snapped to look at the culprit behind it.

“what are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes and referring to the thicker jacket draping over your head and shoulders.

“you look like you’re seconds away from hypothermia,” he replied. His previously fluffy hair was a wet, beautiful grey mess, slightly sticking to his creased forehead.

“your sweater looks thinner than paper,” you argued. “and I’m not seconds away from hypothermia,”

“do you ever not argue back,” a smile decorated his lips. He walked slightly in front of you, given he knows the way to the convenience store.

“you’re making this hard. Coffee and dinner now,” you replied, a smile on your lips as you both finally approach the convenience store.

[12.32am]

The both of you were taking shelter under one umbrella while walking. It was apparently the last umbrella left, so there was no other choice. His thick jacket was now draped around your shoulders, given that he refused to take it back.

“so,” suga began. “any plans for tomorrow?” he asked, breaking the bubble of silence surrounding you. The rain has slightly subdued, it’s sound against the ground growing softer. An earthy smell of petrichor infiltrated your nostrils and a warm, benign feeling spread across your body.

“if you call sleeping a plan, then yes,” you joked, earning a doting chuckle from the male beside you.

“sounds like a plan to me,”

The streets stretched ahead of you, shimmering with rain and echoing with silence. Despite being lonely, a silver path of moonlight was etched on every bump and jagged cobblestone, disposing of any lingering feelings of loneliness. That is, along with the low murmurs coming from both your mouths.

However, the tranquil, almost placid air was suddenly pierced by the blaring yells of what you imagined to be a drunk middle-aged man walking in your direction. A few vile curses and mutters left his mouth as the distance between you and the man seemed to get shorter.

A soft hand gripped your shoulder instinctively pulling you closer. Suga’s hand. Your back was now touching his chest, the previously comfortable space between you and him now dissipating into the humid air. Small jolts of fireworks surged through your shoulder, all the way to your back as a wave of warmth dizzyingly washed over you.

And he wasn’t any better, his knees buckled slightly and the fingertips wrapped around your shoulder were feeling hot, as if a constellation of sensation ignited within him. He felt his throat dry and stars burn in the pit of his stomach and a warm flush decorated the tips of his ears. he wondered if you were able to hear the thrums of his heartbeats.

After the drunk man passed, his small eyes eyeing both your figures shrewdly, not a word nor a breath were uttered from any of your mouths. The streets felt a tad bit lonelier, but his fingers remained stuck to your shoulder, not wanting to leave.

[1.11am]

“thank you for walking me home,” you said, standing at your door. Your gaze landed on everywhere but his molten silver eyes. Your cheeks were flushed, and your hands trembling a little.

“of course, there is no need to thank me,” he replied, a shy smile forming on his lips. His eyes crinkled at the corners a little, and his hand scratched the back of his head sheepishly. His heart was still palpitating in his chest like there is no tomorrow.

Your hands slowly took off the jacket he very kindly lent you, which was almost magically dry. “here, uh, your jacket,” you stretched your arms out, holding it in both hands.

He shook his head knowingly. “keep it,” he said, the same smile still gracing his lips. “you can give it to me when we meet up for dinner again,”

Your eyes finally gathered the courage to stare at his eyes. Twilight skies that shimmered with a thousand shades of silver. You gulped, almost losing your voice. Your heart was thundering in your chest. You thought that you wouldn’t mind waking up every morning to eyes like his. “okay,” your voice was low.

“great,” he beamed, but then looked at his watch. “it’s getting late, I’m going to leave now,” he added. “make sure you take a warm shower, I”ll, uh, I’ll see you soon,”

You nodded. As you watched him begin retreating, offering you a small wave and a grateful smile. You waved back, and then turned to open the door of your apartment.

Tonight, you were going to sleep with his silver eyes perpetuating at the top of your mind and his scorching touch lingering on the skin of your shoulder, kindling a wildfire in your heart.

Tonight, he was going to sleep with his heart beating in the drums of his ears and his fingertips sending jolts of fire, reminding him of what it felt when there was no space between the both of you. When your bodies slightly touched and it felt like tidal waves crashing ashore.