#immediately tells his story just by looking at him

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only, only one

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.5k | warnings: none

Summary: secrets threaten to swallow you whole as you work up the courage to tell Azriel about being his mate. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one with secrets

Author’s note: this came from a draft I found BURIED okay I was looking for a different azris x reader draft but found this and had to finish it

Today was the day. Everything lined up - Feyre and Rhys were at the River House hosting an overnight play date for Nyx and one of his friends. Cassian and Nesta had taken some of the Valkyries to Day to see the pegasi. Mor was somewhere on the continent. Amren was likely at her apartment, but she came by less and less frequently these days.

The sun had just set, the night sky bright and endless as it hovered over the House of Wind. You and Azriel had the entire place to yourselves.

It was a sign from the Mother. You had to tell him. You stood before your mirror, wanting every piece of hair to fall perfectly into place. You took a few deep breaths, failing to calm the beating of your heart.

Everything was going to change. You smiled at your reflection, certain that everything will work out. It had to.

So what if Azriel had pined after two females that weren’t you? That didn’t matter. Not when he was always so kind to you, seeking you out during parties. He always sat next to you at dinner, the two of you fully engaged in conversation the entire time.

His pining toward Mor and then Elain always felt strange to you. It never happened around you, you hardly saw him even glance their way. You only knew about it from Cassian’s love of gossip.

“It should be you he focuses on - the two of you are so similar. And so annoying.”

His words likely meant nothing to him - especially the end when you had stolen food from his plate. But his words echoed in your mind, echoed around the string nearly suffocating your heart.

The two of you were well suited. You complemented each other. Surely, if he didn’t love you now, Azriel could grow to love you. It should be easy.

Would you want someone who had to grow to love you? You shook the thought from your head, certain the Mother wouldn’t lead you astray like that.

Your thoughts led you outside his door. The words had laid dormant on your tongue for too long, weeks going by without admitting the truth to him.

You knocked on his door quickly, not wanting nerves to get the better of you. You couldn’t help lightly bouncing on your feet as you waited, listening to the shuffles behind the door. Each sound of footfalls made your heart rate quicken.

Azriel poked his head out the door, a small smile when his eyes fell on you.

“Sorry to intrude, but can I come in? I want to talk to you about something.”

Surprise at your demand showed on his face, but he opened the door wider, letting you come in. The sight of you in his room wasn’t unheard of, but you had never so boldly asked to come in.

You walked through the threshold, noticing immediately a suitcase on his bed, nearly full before his shadows quickly closed and latched the lid.

“Are you going somewhere?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out.

“I was going to take a few days to myself. Enjoy some quiet at my cabin.”

Your heart had been bursting with secrets lately. Months ago Azriel had confided in you he had a cabin somewhere he liked to hide away in when he needed to get away.

That tidbit of knowledge was secured deep in your fantasies, a story you told yourself before going to sleep about him whisking you away to his cabin.

“Oh - well, I hope I’m not interrupting your need for peace.”

“Nonsense. I find your presence quite peaceful, anyway.” Your heart was in your throat at his words. His casual admittance giving you just enough strength to be bold.

“That is very kind of you. I find your presence to also be peaceful and delightful.” He smiled down at you, his full attention on your words. That was always what drew you to Azriel the most. You have always had his full attention whenever you spoke to him, and he always recalled the smallest of details from your conversations.

He saw you. He noticed you. The Mother made him for you and you for him.

“Well, Azriel. We are friends, right? And friends tell each other things and are honest, right?” You wrung your hands with your fingers, needing something to expel your nervous energy.

“Yes. I am always honest with you.” His words came out with a slight chuckle, a tilt to his head, wondering where this was going.

“Great. I have actually been keeping something from you for a while. At first I had to take some time myself to understand, and then I was waiting for the right time.”

“Go on.” He looked radiant with the light of the moon cutting across his face. No male could compare to his beauty. His words of encouragement and his smile at your nervousness were all you needed for the words to come tumbling out.

“I am in love with you. I have been for a long time, and I kept it to myself, but a few weeks ago, the mating bond snapped and I-“

“A mating bond?” His words were sharper than you had ever heard him speak to you before. His shadows swirled around your feet, occasionally jumping and leaping to reach you, but never quite making it.

“Yes, it-“

“You’re certain?” His words were making you shrink ever so slightly. The shadows had now begun swirling around the two of you, like they were trapping the two of you into a bubble.

“Yes, it-“

“To me?”

You tugged hard on the bond, pulling as hard as you could to release him from the shocked stupor he was in. It knocked him off balance, his feet stuttering forward before he righted himself. His scarred hands rubbed absently at his chest, his brows knitted in confusion.

“Let me finish, Azriel.” The shadows that had been swirling around the two of you floated down, sweeping across the floor. A few moved toward you, swirling around your body, helping you stay upright.

He didn’t listen to your words, only shook his head in response. He dragged his fingers down his face, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out.

He looked once more at you before he reached out, his hands taking hold of your shoulders before the two of you were whisked through space in his shadows.

“Azriel!” You pushed off of him the second you felt solid ground beneath your feet, putting distance between the two of you. “This is not what I hoped-“

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes widened at his words, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. He winnowed the two of you right in front of a cabin door, the structure surrounded on all sides by thick forest.

“Okay Azriel, you could have just rejected me - not bring me to who knows where.” You ignored his command, irritation lacing your words.

“No, I just- wait here.” He shut the door quickly behind himself, leaving you alone. Your heart felt heavy as you looked about the woods, uncertain if you wanted to know what laid in the darkness.

Whatever scent lingered from beneath the door was familiar, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. You were stuck - you could winnow home, you supposed. But why did he bring you out here? Would he leave you out here, wanting to know how long you’d stay and wait? Surely the bond would make him protective enough to let you die from the elements, right? The thought caused the string around your heart to play a sad, out of tune note.

You weren’t sure how long you were standing outside, a brisk breeze making you well aware of your lack of coat. The door opened once more, Azriel coming back out before he quickly shut the door behind himself, not letting you see inside.

“Az, what are we doing here?”

He held out a hand to you, his other back on the knob of the door.

“I have never brought anyone from the Inner Circle here.”

You grew frustrated at his words, a tiny hint of pride at being the first of your family to visit here. You accepted his hand, noting there really wasn’t any other decision you could make.

He opened the door and you took in the space. It was small - just the one room connected to a kitchen. It held a massive bed - somehow larger than the ones in Velaris. There wasn’t much in the way of decorations - the house was void of any indication of who lived in it. Your eyes stopped on the redheaded male who was moving about the kitchen, the sight of him short circuiting your brain.

“You said you’ve never brought anyone else here before.” Somehow amidst all the confusion, that was what your brain settled on.

“He said no one from the Inner Circle had been here. The door’s not as thick as you are, Azriel.” Eris’s voice was full of chastisement, clicking his tongue at the end to accent his point. You glanced between the pair, even more confused now that Eris had opened his mouth, the comment almost affectionate.

You shook your head, dismissing the thought. “Look, Az, I get it, this is something you don’t want-“ “Now I didn’t say-“ “so we can just go back to Velaris and I can move out.”

“What is she talking about?” Eris’s voice was loud to accomodate for the banging of pots and pans. He was cooking something, the cherry on top of ‘well, why not this too?’

You looked up at the ceiling, fighting back tears to what has quickly become the worst moment of your life. This was all so strange, you were certain you had hit your head somewhere, your body likely unconscious in Azriel’s room. Maybe none of this happened, and you fell on something in your room.

When you woke up, you were certainly never confessing to him.

“Tell him.” Azriel’s prodding words confused you even more. You looked at him in bewilderment. He had the same look on his face he does when he’s about to win a card game - no matter what move you make, he’s right in his assessment.

“Tell him? Azriel I think telling someone they’re your mate and them not wanting it is embarrassing enough, why do we have to drag in a spectator?”

His face fell slightly, something pooling in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out.

“Why do you think Azriel is your mate?”

You cocked your head at Eris, never having officially met him. You would recognize him anywhere - the long red hair, the ornate clothes decorated with autumn leaves, the scent of bonfire and whiskey stuck to him.

No one in the Inner Circle had ever told you how stunning he was, his beauty making other males look like mortals next to him. Except Azriel.

“I assume we can skip the pleasantries, Eris. Every facet of this night is more confusing than the last. Why are you cooking?”

“Because otherwise I will die of starvation. Or be even more intolerable due to hunger.”

You wished for a wall behind you to bang your head into. They may have omitted his beauty, but they weren’t wrong about him being difficult.

“Why are you in Azriel’s cabin?”

“I asked my question first.”

“Well, Eris, if you must know the inner workings of my personal life, Azriel is my mate and instead of being happy or even indifferent he brought me here to you for some reason. Can I go now?” The tears started forming in the corner of your eye, your fist clenched as you spoke.

“No,” they replied in unison, not looking at you. They both mirrored each other, their crossed arms not giving anything away as they silently argued, unsure when Azriel moved closer to Eris. You could make out a few words from the hushed tones, but it was impossible to hear them.

It took you a moment to realize Eris had stopped cooking when Azriel approached. He was giving him his full attention as they spoke to each other.

This was a very odd dream indeed.

“I’ve felt a pull to you.” Azriel was still looking at Eris, and you weren’t certain who he was talking to until he shifted his eyes to you. “I have always been drawn to you, needed to be near you. I didn’t want to think we were mates, because Eris is my mate.”

You blinked multiple times, the idea trying to make itself comprehensible to you. You looked around, certain to find some trace Rhysand had built this imaginary reality as a practical joke.

“No, that's not possible. If it’s not me, it had to be because of Elain or Mor.”

Eris scoffed, his annoyance clear across his face, his movements becoming more hurried as he added things to a pot. “Sorry to disappoint the both of you by not having breasts.”

“Eris.” An admonishing hiss from Azriel caused the Autumn heir to roll his eyes, not even looking at the glare the shadowsinger sent him.

“Forgive me. Forgive my mate for his deceits being so well done it fooled even his female mate.” Eris refused to pull his focus from his cooking, hardly acknowledging you with his body.

“Azriel and I have been together for some time, a rouse that is perpetuated by his supposed infatuation with the other females close to you.”

For some reason, his words stung. Azriel had been faking affection for them? If he could do that, why didn't he fake them for you?

As if reading your thoughts, Eris continued. “He was feeling something for you, something he hardly wanted to admit to me. But we have been looking into it. It seems no one has ever had this.”

“Had what?”

“Two mates.”

Your head was reeling, a migraine forming as you tried to process every bit of information you were given. Something gnawed at you - some insecurity making itself known in this odd circumstance.

“Were you getting close to me as an experiment?” That drew Azriel from his silence, his steps moving toward you.

“No - gods no. I like you, I like spending time with you. I’m drawn to you - I can’t help it.”

“He yearns.” Eris’s voice was flat as hid words came out, Azriel quickly spun on his heel and looked toward his mate.

His other mate, you supposed.

“I do not yearn.”

“You complain about missing her when you’re here.” Azriel’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, the first sense of affection you've felt from him since arriving.

Eris stopped stirring, turning his full attention toward you. His gaze left heat all across you, as if his eyes could penetrate your clothes, seeing your body and soul beneath. You can’t tell if he’s making the room warmer or if that’s just you.

“In the concept of honesty, I have to say you are… something.” His words broke you out of whatever stupor you had found yourself in.

“Thank you, Eris. That is the best non-descript compliment or insult I’ve ever received.”

“It’s not an insult.” You scoffed, uncertain how to respond. He straightened himself, standing tall as he continued. “Do you wish for me to wax poetic about my mate’s new mate? Divine, delectable, take your pick.”

Was he flirting with you? The notion made no sense, but something Azriel told you about Eris years ago had always stuck.

If you want to get anywhere with him, you have to play his game.

“My mate has a very pretty mate.” It was true and something Eris was more than aware of about himself. He scoffed, picking up a spoon and going back to cooking, but you continued. “Should I wax poetic about you, hm? Tell you all about how you look like a predator prepared to pounce and I’d be more than willing to be beneath you?”

Eris stopped his cooking, his spoonclattering as he took his time drinking you in.

“I thought you said she was timid and shy?” His question was directed at Azriel, but he kept looking at you. His gaze stayed on you, not wavering, seeing something he found interesting.

“That’s because Azriel runs at the potential for intimacy, I had to ease him into it.” Something close to a laugh escaped from Eris. His gaze finally moved toward the shadowsinger.

“I like her, Azriel. We can keep her.”

“I am not some toy to claim ownership to.” Eris paid you no mind, turning back to his cooking. You couldn’t figure out what he was making, but it smelled divine.

“Of course not, but you are my mate’s mate and that means I have to like you before making decisions about you.” Your heart stalled at his words, the air getting thinner around you.

“What do you mean by decisions?”

“Eris.” Azriel cut in for the first time in a while, and you would have forgotten about his presence if it hadn’t been for the bond humming.

“Well, I mean he is my mate already. He’s accepted the bond with me. If I didn’t like you, he’d just reject you.”

“He wouldn’t just-“ your words stopped, your statement unable to continue. Your throat went dry with the look Azriel gave Eris. It was a split second, but it was enough.

They clearly had discussed it - some topic they had mulled over several times, working through every scenario. Eris’s words were of such nonchalance, such subtle cruelty.

They would decide to shatter your heart without any thought or input from you.

It was getting hot, your clothes too much on your skin. Your breathing rose again, too shallow to fully take in a breath.

“So you’ve been- what? Keeping it a secret for months that Eris is your mate and that I’m your mate? Were you test running me this whole time?” Your voice came out squeaky, but you were too upset to care.

“No, I didn’t know-“ Azriel was scrambling, his eyes pleading with the truth. “I didn’t know, I was curious-“

“I mean, I knew you kept secrets, but this is- Eris and-“ your breaths were coming shorter and shorter, the cabin swaying slightly as it got harder to breathe. This couldn’t be real, it had to be some fictional reality. The bond in your chest was crying in agony, desperate for you to be closer to Azriel and to stop arguing.

“Azriel, she's self-destructing.” Eris didn’t move from his spot, continuing his cooking as if you had made an astute observation about the weather.

“I can see that.”

“Do something. She’s your mate.”

You pushed the hair from your face, straightening your shoulders. You blinked slowly, trying to clear your gaze. You had been a fool this whole time, that much was true. You were an experiment to Az - this whole time he had his suspicions, and you were nothing but a test subject he could drop at a moment’s notice. The collateral damage of your heart meant nothing to him.

He had Eris. Why would he want you?

“It’s clear now that you already have your hands full, Azriel. I’ll bow out respectfully.” The words came out cold, not a hint of the warmth you felt for Azriel laced them.

“Sweetheart-“

His shadows swirled around you, desperate to keep you close, to pull you closer to him. You batted them away, not wanting their comfort.

They knew. Azriel knew. Eris knew. This was all a joke to them.

“I’d be a fool to compete with Eris Vanserra over anything, including you Azriel. You’ve told me a hundred times how Autumn Court males sink their teeth into things and don’t let go.” Had his words been a warning? Had he been mated to him when he told you that? How far did these lies run? “Clearly you know from experience.”

You winnowed away, Azriel’s hand inches from where you stood. His shadows exploded, several moving around Eris, the Autumn heir batting them away with little effort.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Azriel directed all of his anger toward Eris.

“You were my mate first.”

“You practically pissed all over me, marking your territory. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for me to speak!”

“Shall I hike up my leg? I thought such things didn’t interest you.”

Azriel breathed deeply, clenching and unclenching his fists to keep his anger in check.

“Besides, you wouldn’t speak. You clammed up.”

“We discussed this. You knew how important this was to me. This all went wrong.” Azriel was tugging at his hair, the bond swirling in his chest with your despair.

“Yes, yes. I know how my mate was quite taken with a female he lives with. Forgive me for not being thrilled.” Eris let the tiniest hint of hurt show on his face, his first display of emotion all night. Azriel spotted it immediately, his anger dissipating slightly.

“She might be your mate, too.” Azriel’s words were a whisper, a soft hope he was speaking into existence. The Mother wouldn’t give him two mates who hated each other, would she?

Eris gave a dismissive look Azriel’s way. “I suppose we’ll never know now.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Author’s note: any ideas for part two 👀

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Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb

[fantasybuff3186]

So I did a thing because i was bored. What do you think?

“Hey Delilah.” Todd suddenly asked, breaking the peaceful silence he found himself in with his girlfriend. “Yes Todd?” she was quick to answer as she looked up smiling from the book she was reading as Todd sighed contentedly, he’d always liked how attentive she could be to him. It didnt matter what she was doing or where they were, she always responded whenever she was close by. He counted himself extremely lucky to have such a beautiful and kind girlfriend and he tried to remind her of this everyday with small gestures like gifting her pink chrysanthemums(her favourite flowers) from the garden he specifically grew for her or by making her favourite dishes which he had specifically learnt to make for her. All Todd really wanted was to make sure his princess, his everything lived the most comfortable and the happiest life she could.

“Um Todd, you wanted to say something.” his girlfriend interrupted his thoughts. “Oh yes sorry, I just wanted to ask what you’re reading.” he said on being brought back to reality. “Oh I’m reading Hamlet.”

She answers immediately causing him to frown. “All over again?” he enquired to which she nodded her head enthusiastically, making him smile, he always enjoyed her enthusiasm and even more when she spoke with the same enthusiasm like she was right now.

She said, “its just such an interesting story and I really like Hamlet’s character in the story! Hes the only character I find interesting….” Todd couldn't hear the rest as he got lost in listening to her voice, so sweet, so beautiful and so kind.It was only when she tapped on his shoulder that he was jolted from his thoughts.

Once she was sure she got his attention she asked hesitantly, “D- did I bore you?” the hesitation and fear on her face made his heart wrench as he immediately touched her cheek and reassured her, “Hey hey nothing like that, I just got distracted, I love to hear you talk and sometimes your voice is the only thing I can focus on.”

On hearing that she smiled, flattered by his compliments as she shyly returned the compliment, “I like listening to you speak too.” Now it was Todd’s turn to blush at the compliment.

“Oh um..” he trailed off as she continued to speak, “But you know what I like the most?”. He looked at her curiously and raised his eyebrows quizzically as she asked, “What is it?”

Delilah spoke sincerely, “I like it when you smile, that sweet, sincere smile because when you smile like that all my fears, my worries seem to drift away. I like it when you smile but I love it even more when you laugh, that rich, comforting laugh. The laugh that fills my entire being with pleasure, that laughter that feels like the warm sun, that which sounds sweeter than music, sweeter than the ripest mango. So tell me Todd, why aren't you laughing?”

She said as her skin became bone,her face frozen in an expression of pain as she leaned against a tree, his hand still touching what was her cheek.

Write a happy story without conflict. Then with the last sentence, turn it into a horror story.

[auclairedetoru]

Namami has only been seeing y/n for a month but he's already so smitten.

The way she walks, the way she talks, the way she carries herself, her confidence, the way she applies her makeup, the colours she gets on her nails, the pretty outfits she wears, her facial expressions, everything. He's obsessed with her.

He met her at a little bookstore. He mostly goes there to browse and relax after long and tiring shifts. He enjoys the smell of the books and the overall atmosphere, sometimes he ends up picking something that pricks his interest.

Y/n was there doing the same thing when she saw him holding one of her favourite books. She couldn't help but comment on his amazing choice. He thanked her and asked her if she liked it. She let him know that it's a top pick for her but not number one. He proceeded to ask which book she liked the most. One thing led to another and he ended up leaving the store with her number saved on his phone.

After he noticed that not only has he been talking to her for a week straight, but he also always looked forward to reading her texts, answering her calls and talking on the phone, he decided to ask her on a date.

Namami did not go on many dates before. But when he did, he'd always asked his coworker Gojo to call him at a specific time, if he was enjoying the date he would tell the person he's with that it's just work related and not to worry about it, but if he wasn't he would tell them that he's needed for an emergency and he would pay for their cab and make sure they make it home safe before letting them down gently the next time he talks to them. Thankfully he only did the latter once when the person was being borderline creepy and he felt unsafe.

The date with y/n was a first for him. After she agreed, he told her about the time and location, planning on taking her to a nice restaurant, a classic. He was surprised when she disagreed and asked if he'd be comfortable with coming over to her house. She told him that she loved cooking but never got the chance to make big meals. Namami agreed, and it made his heart swell with happiness when she told him she was excited for their date.

The date was nothing less than perfect. He immediately felt at home the moment he stepped foot in her apartment, he particularly loved that she uses small lights instead of overhead ones, something he does at his apartment as well. She set the table beautifully, with candles and some of the most unique tableware. The food was a whole different story. He could not believe he was eating all that for free. He has been to many fancy restaurants, but none of them compared to her cooking.

When Namami asked if it was okay for him to ask her a couple of questions to see if they were on the same page when it comes to the future if they're planning on sharing one, he was surprised again when she said she was glad he brought up that topic because she had her own questions as well. Namami immediately knew that this would turn out for the best because his past dates always either tried to dodge this discussion or told him he was rushing things.

He first asked her about marriage. She told him that she wants to get married and that it's definitely something she hopes would happen in the future when she's ready, he agreed. He asked her if she'd want them to live together with a partner, she said yes but not immediately, maybe one and half to two years into the relationship, he agreed. She asked him about kids and if he sees himself being a father in the future, he said yes but he wants kids not immediately after marriage but to wait a year or two before trying, she agreed. She asked him about how he would handle disagreements and arguments, he told her that he was a very calm person and enjoys the peace communication brings, so he'd sit with his partner and figure out the problem and how to resolve it, she agrees.

Namami started to feel giddy when he realised they have both agreed to many of each other's answers and even shared similar opinions. Would she be the one he spends forever with? The thought didn't seem so bad at the moment, he hoped to get his answer quickly.

But he wasn't expecting it to happen within a month.

They discovered they shared the same route on their way to work and began walking it together. Nanami started to look forward to seeing her. Every morning, she greets him with a smile and "hi, Ken!" which he started responding to with "hi, Barbie" after watching the Barbie movie, she always giggles and throws her arms around his neck in a hug. He buys her her favourite boba and she drinks it while they walk and talk about whatever comes to mind. He drops her off at work since it's closer than his, but not before pressing a kiss to her forehead that she started calling her "good luck kiss". They even spend their lunch breaks together by talking through facetime. He was the type to skip that free time to get more work done, but he stopped doing that in favour of talking to his favourite girl.

He started looking forward to seeing her and talking to her. Weekends have become boring, sure they text, but it's not like hearing her voice, even through the phone speaker. She consumed his brain, she became his first thought in the morning and his last before bed. Thankfully, Nanami isn't dumb, and he realised he is in fact falling in love.

He didn't want to play around, after all, they're both serious about this relationship. He plans on confessing, letting her know his true feelings. It's a scary thought, something he has never done before, and he hopes she wouldn't reject him given that he fell for her fast when they both agreed this would be a "getting to know each other" phase. But he can't control how he feels about her, she makes him look forward to the future, as long as she is a part of it.

It's the weekend, Nanami invited her over in the afternoon to watch movies and hang out at his apartment, but despite what the weather forecast said, the somewhat sunny morning quickly developed into a stormy evening, one that was strong enough for him to turn the hang out into a sleepover. He gave her a pair of his pajama pants and a shirt to get comfortable and put the frozen pizza he has for emergencies in the oven.

They're sitting on the couch, a movie long forgotten on TV as y/n tells him a very interesting work story. He's trying to focus, he really is, but the way she's so close to him, her folded legs almost on top of his, her hair wrapped around his fingers as he plays with the strands, the way her face lights up when she remembers a detail, it's all so precious.

“and then she got mad and-”

“I love you.”

Y/n stops talking and he's instantly regretting his words. They literally slipped out of his mouth, he had no control over them. It's like she pressed a botton and they came out. He starts fearing the worst and his brain starts telling him that he made things awkward and uncomfortable for her and she can't even escape because there's a storm outside. Fuck... Why did he need to rush? Everything has been going perfectly, and now he ruined it. He's gonna have to find a way to make up for this. He'll apologize a billion times if needed, but he can't afford to lose her.

“Ken, I love you too, so much, but I need to finish the story.”

Huh-

“Right. Sorry, darling. Please continue, I'm all ears.”

He isn't all ears, he can't be all ears, because he can hear how fast his heart is beating and he can feel the blood rushing to his face. She said it back, she loves him, so much too! Is he dreaming, is it still the night before and he hasn't called her yet to invite her over? No. It can't be. He wants this to be real... and it is, everything is real. The way she's holding on to his fingers is real, the way she's excitedly telling him the rest of her story is real, the way he's holding back from smiling so hard is real, the way the pizza smell is filling the room is real.

“oh shit, the pizza.”

Nanami bolts to the kitchen, quickly grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the pizza out just in time. When he quickly glaces towards the living room, he can see y/n hunched over and squealing into the pillow, her feet kicking slightly. He chuckles. She really tried to play it like his words did not affect her the way they affected him, but it seems like their feelings are mutual in every way possible.

Nanami is somehow even more excited for forever with her now.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere soldier with Stockholm syndrome

Part Two of Yandere Soldier

Yandere Soldier - Stockholm Syndrome

Yandere! Solider who can't get you to talk to him. You'll sit curled in the corner of the bed, resolutely looking anywhere but at him.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you books, flowers, even old picture albums he finds stashed at the bottom of your cupboard. And still nothing but silence.

Yandere! Soldier who's beginning to think nothing will ever break it. That he's stilled that vicious tongue of yours forever. Who hates himself for what he's done, but what choice did he have? Yes, he's taken you from your home and family and all that was familiar. But was an interrogation room really the better option?

Yandere! Soldier who comes home with a nasty cut all across his arm. Some dumb kid got smart and slashed him when his back was turned and now he's forced into recovery leave for a week.

At first, you just watch him struggle to change his bandages. But something about his injury, this reminder of mortality, sticks with you. You pluck the roll of bandages straight out of his hand and wrap his injury for him.

Yandere! Soldier who stays frozen while you work, terrified of frightening you away. Who basks in the intimacy of it - your bowed head, the delicate smell of your perfume, the pulse fluttering at your throat.

Yandere! Soldier who has to swallow and breathe before he can find his voice again.

Спасибо

Thank you.

You shrug and let go of his arm. Yandere! Soldier who hates to loose your touch. Who wants to pull you back and force you to cradle his face in your palms. But he doesn't want to ruin this tiny bit of progress.

Yandere! Soldier who fills the silence with his stories. Who tells you about his training, his childhood, the places he's been deployed to and how happy he was to leave them. Who teaches you words in his native language, even if you don't bother repeating them.

Yandere! Soldier who comes home exhausted and aching, who sprawls on the bed with a groan and instinctively reaches for you.

Yandere! Soldier who has to bite back a yelp of surprise when he feels your climb onto his back and straddle his waist. You slowly knead at his muscles, massaging away all the knots and tension and lingering aches.

Yandere! Soldier who has to stifle a moan because it feels so damn good.

Yandere! Soldier who finds you waiting at the door the next morning, still as quiet as a monk. He's immediately suspicious. Are you going to make a run for it? Instead you stand on your tip toes and press a quick, uncertain kiss to his cheek.

Yandere! Soldier who keeps touching the place you kissed him, even when it's hidden under his mask.

Yandere! Soldier who cooks you dinner most nights, even if he's dog tired, even if all you do is push it around your plate.

Yandere! Soldier who brings you news of the city and the war effort. The resistance is faltering, it's leaders hunted and put down like dogs. Part of him hopes the news will make you more pliant. Why fight the inevitable?

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't like the way your eyes get hard when he talks about the resistance, the way you clench your jaw and look away from him.

You mutter something and it takes him a moment to decipher it.

"I should be out there with them."

Yandere! Soldier who tries and fails to contain his anger. Who grabs your jaw and pulls you up to face him.

"If you were out there, you'd be dead. Can't you be thankful?"

You're quiet again after that and he stops bringing it up.

Yandere! Soldier who doesn't leave anything sharp around the apartment, but is still surprised when you ask him to trim your hair. He sits on the bed with you between his knees, carefully filtering the hair through his fingers. You're so close to him - willingly - that it makes him feel almost lightheaded.

Yandere! Soldier who carefully dusts the cuttings off you and is secretly pleased when you don't flinch away.

Yandere! Soldier who isn't sure how to react when you start greeting him at the door. At first he watches you warily, expecting you to bolt the second you can. But for some reason you don't and a part of him insists that you're starting to like it here.

Yandere! Soldier who exercises every evening, his shirt off and his black fatigues slung low on his hips. He likes it when you watch him and he'll usually throw in a few extra push-ups just to impress you. He complains that he doesn't have enough weight around for his workouts and you take to draping yourself across his back when he needs it.

Yandere! Soldier who finds himself craving you, even with your cold silence. Who is constantly aware of you around the apartment and has to force himself to look away.

Yandere! Soldier who turns off all the electricity in the dead of winter and claims it was damaged in the fighting. It's icy cold in old buildings like this and it doesn't take long for it to wear you down. Soon you're curled up against him, glaring at him to keep his hands to himself.

And he does, for the most part.

Yandere! Soldier who wakes up to you sobbing, your face pressed into his chest. He tries to soothe you, but you flinch away. You whisper between the sobs, sounding afraid and hateful and needy all at once.

"I love you..."

Yandere! Soldier who instantly understands what's happened. He's spent the better part of his life in war zones afterall, and it's more common than you'd think. Yandere! Soldier who secretly hoped for this outcome all along.

Yandere! Soldier who soothes you as best he can, stroking your hair until your sobs turn to whimpers. He presses his lips to your forehead and tells you to relax, that this was bound to happen, that's it's not your fault.

Yandere! Soldier who holds you in his scarred arms and knows that he's finally caught you, body and soul. Who says the words you long for but dread hearing.

я тоже тебя люблю

"I love you too."

[canihaveacalmtime]

"Here's your hot cocoa, have a good evening!"

You receive your drink as you bow, thanking the employee and go outside to find a seat. As you sat next to a decorated christmas tree, you look in front of you and see a giant build board printed a familiar face on it.

Should you be proud to know that your memory is very good because you could recognize your highschool bully?

Probably not, haha...

You take a sip of your cocoa, thinking about what had happened in the past between the two of you.

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

It's like any other highschool bully story that everyone always read, during your first year, you were picked on by the richest and the most handsome guy in school and he forced you to do his homework everyday for 2 years. Tormenting you in the halls, drag you out whenever his mood isn't it, making you a laughing stock for the whole school.

But why only 2 years? Because everything went upside down for him when the last year started.

His parents had enough of him and brutally cut off his bank account, told him that either he learn how to work hard or he'd never get his hands on his father company. When he thought that his long time friends would still be there to support him through this, they quickly turn their backs on him upon knowing that he has no use left to them.

During the time he was at his worst, you stepped in and offer him a helping hand, telling him that you will help him with everything for this last year and in return, he must comply with your one request and can not decline.

He was wary at first when you suddenly did that but he had no other choices as there was no one else except you that would help him anyways.

And he was not disappointed for trusting you, you supported him through every single thing, improved his grades making him in the top 50 of the school, engaged him in participating in that model contest and also fulfil the role of being a friend that he can rely on.

When the school year end came, it was also time he hear your request. You couldn't remember much about anything other than what you said, you can't remember how the scenery looked like, what the principal was saying on stage, even the look on his face because after you said it, you left immediately.

"Let's never cross paths ever again in this life, that is my request."

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

You realized that your cup is now empty just like how the streets are also beginning to be, so you throw the cup into the trash can and walk home.

You wonder back to the times when you were teaching him the subjects, you would sometime catch him staring in an obsessive way at you but you didn't really care back then because your hatred for him was too much but now that you moved on, you wonder why he was staring at you like that.

"He also said something after I left that day but I couldn't hear what it was.." You mumble as you step out of the elevator to your apartment only to be greeted with a door that is not locked at all.

Your movements were hesitant, slowly, you open the door with cautious as you also carefully step inside your home. Right after you had closed the front door, a sudden sting on your neck send you off balance, fall into someone's arms and fainted immediately.

"Come get me at the apartment now." The tall figure said through a bluetooth headphone device on his ears.

Your bully smile down at you with a creepy smile, inhaling your familiar scent as he hug you close and tightly around his arms.

"You can tell me to do anything, give you anything, to die even. Anything but letting you leave."

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

After they said those words, my world seemed like crashing down on me in seconds.

I guess I have no other choice but to fulfil a different request from them in the future then.

"I shall have you in my arms when we meet again, love."

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

(ayy pov change :D)

[goldfades]

TROUBLE ─── RAFE CAMERON (part two)

part one!

⟢ ┈ ��𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | after that fateful night, you begin to see rafe cameron differently - and it seems like he feels the same.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | ooc!rafe, teasing, descriptions of bullying (?), sweet rafe, a lot of word vomit, um... idk what else? it's pretty sweet and wholesome

⟢ ┈ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 | @psychicnatural @evermorx89 @slipawaylrh @renasjourney @aesthetic-lyss

The thing about Rafe Cameron is that he doesn’t linger.

Not in the way you might expect. He has a reputation for showing up, making noise, and leaving behind chaos in his wake. Rafe doesn’t hover, doesn’t check back, doesn’t get involved. But ever since that night—since the low rumble of his voice pulled you from the edge of panic and his steady presence walked you safely out of danger—it feels like he’s everywhere.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. A coincidence. But the truth is, you’ve caught him watching you more than once. At Sarah’s party last weekend, his eyes found you across the bonfire, the flickering light sharpening his sharp features and softening his smirk. At The Wreck, when you stopped by for takeout, he was there at the bar, casually nursing a drink, his gaze flicking to you the moment you walked in.

And now, standing in the backyard of the Cameron estate during Sarah’s infamous summer party, you can feel the weight of his presence even though you haven’t seen him yet tonight.

It’s like he’s threaded into the atmosphere now, an undercurrent you can’t ignore.

You’re holding a drink in one hand, the other resting on the edge of the pool as Wheezie chatters beside you about some drama from school. Sarah is off somewhere playing hostess, and the crowd is a mix of Kooks, tourists, and a handful of Pogues Sarah deemed “cool enough” to make the cut.

The air is warm and heavy with the scent of salt and chlorine, and you’re doing your best to pretend you’re not scanning the crowd for him.

You tell yourself you’re not hoping to see him.

But then, you do.

Rafe steps out onto the patio, a drink in hand, his posture relaxed but commanding as he surveys the party. He looks effortlessly at home here—like the house, the lights, the music all belong to him in some unspoken way.

When his eyes find you, it’s immediate, like he knew exactly where to look.

Your pulse quickens, and you glance away, trying to focus on Wheezie’s story. But even as she rambles on, you can feel Rafe’s gaze burning into you. It’s a mix of heat and challenge, daring you to acknowledge him.

And when you finally give in and glance back, he’s smirking.

He doesn’t approach right away. He never does. Instead, he takes his time, drifting through the crowd like he’s in no rush, talking to people here and there, all while his attention keeps circling back to you.

It’s maddening.

You take a sip of your drink, willing the flush in your cheeks to disappear, and try to focus on Wheezie’s latest complaint about her friends. But then Rafe’s voice cuts through the noise, low and unmistakable.

“Having fun?”

You look up to find him standing beside you, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, the other holding his drink. He’s close enough that the faint scent of his cologne reaches you—something warm and sharp and entirely too intoxicating.

“Trying to,” you reply, your voice steadier than you expected.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes flick to Wheezie, who’s already grinning at him. “Don’t let her bore you to death,” he says, nodding toward his sister.

“Hey!” Wheezie protests, shoving him lightly.

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and easy, but his attention is back on you in an instant. “Come find me later,” he says, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

And then he’s gone, disappearing back into the crowd, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and Wheezie’s teasing grin.

“Are you blushing?” Wheezie asks, her tone all too knowing.

“Absolutely not,” you say quickly, turning back to your drink.

But you are. And the worst part? You know Rafe knows it too.

There was a time when the idea of Rafe Cameron being anything but insufferable would have been laughable.

You remember those long, sticky summer evenings spent at the Cameron house, sitting at the kitchen island with Wheezie while her parents were out at one fundraiser or another. Babysitting wasn’t exactly glamorous, but it was better than working at the marina, and Wheezie was sweet enough to make it bearable.

Rafe, on the other hand, was a different story.

He had this knack for showing up just when you thought you’d have a quiet night. You’d be helping Wheezie with her math homework or making her one of those ridiculously specific sandwiches she liked, and then—bam. There he was, leaning against the doorway with that signature smirk plastered across his face.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he’d say, nodding at whatever you were doing, even if it was as simple as slicing bread.

“Doing what wrong?” you’d snap back, barely sparing him a glance.

“Existing,” he’d tease, stealing a chip off your plate and popping it into his mouth like he owned the place.

It was endless. He’d make fun of your clothes, your car, your playlist. Anything and everything was fair game, and he never missed an opportunity to remind you that you didn’t belong in their world. You were a Pogue, after all, even if your dad’s business had climbed its way into something respectable.

But there was one night—one moment—that always stood out, no matter how much you hated to admit it.

You were sitting at the island again, Wheezie at your side, her little hands clutching a glass of milk while you tried to get her to eat a handful of carrots. Rafe was there too, slouched in one of the barstools with his phone in hand, half-listening to whatever you were saying just to mock it later.

Everything was normal—until Wheezie came stumbling into the room, tears streaming down her face.

“What happened?” you asked immediately, rushing over to her.

“They—they were making fun of me,” she hiccuped, her words barely audible through her sobs.

“Who?” you pressed gently, crouching down to her level.

“Those boys…from down the street,” she managed, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “They said I was weird and that no one likes me.”

Your heart clenched, and you reached out to pull her into a hug, murmuring something soothing about how those boys didn’t know what they were talking about. But before you could say much else, Rafe stood up.

It wasn’t dramatic or loud. He didn’t say a word. He just… stood.

And then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him as you sat there, stunned.

“What—where’s he going?” you asked, looking down at Wheezie, who just shrugged.

Fifteen minutes later, Rafe came back. His knuckles were scraped, his nose was bleeding, and there was a bruise already forming on his cheekbone.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “What the hell happened to you?”

He grabbed a dishtowel off the counter, pressing it to his face as he shrugged. “It’s taken care of.”

“Rafe…” you started, but he just waved you off, heading for the stairs like nothing had happened.

Looking back on it now, it’s almost funny how you didn’t see it then. He didn’t make a show of it or stick around for the praise. He just… handled it. The same way he handled everything, quietly and with a bluntness that often left more questions than answers.

Rafe Cameron wasn’t always like this.

You can still remember the version of him from when you were younger: loud, impulsive, and seemingly incapable of taking anything seriously. He was the type of kid who would shoot spitballs in class just to watch people squirm, who cared more about his next thrill than the consequences that followed. There was a recklessness about him then, a streak of carelessness that made you write him off without hesitation.

But now, standing on the edge of Sarah’s party and watching him weave effortlessly through the crowd, you can’t help but notice how much has changed.

His hair, once a shaggy mess of blonde that fell into his eyes, is buzzed now, the sharp cut emphasizing the strong line of his jaw and the defined shape of his cheekbones. He’s leaner, but more solid too, his movements deliberate instead of erratic. Even the way he holds himself is different—confident but restrained, like he no longer feels the need to demand attention because he knows it’s already his.

It’s not just his appearance, though that’s hard to ignore. It’s the way he seems more grounded, more present. You’ve heard whispers about him stepping up to help his dad with the family business, even if people still question his motives. You’ve seen him around town, not in his usual haunts, but at the construction sites or walking out of Grady’s hardware store with blueprints under his arm.

He’s working. Actually working. And it’s not just for show.

The realization hit you that night, downtown, when he pulled you out of a situation that could’ve gone sideways fast. The way he handled it—calm, capable, and protective—was so at odds with the Rafe you thought you knew that it left you reeling. You’d always thought of him as a spoiled rich kid, someone who relied on his family name to coast through life without lifting a finger. But in that moment, when his steady presence shielded you from danger, you saw someone entirely different.

And now you can’t unsee it.

It’s driving you insane, honestly. Because no matter how mature he’s become, no matter how different he seems now, he’s still Rafe freaking Cameron. The boy who used to mock you for your Pogue roots, who once threw a party so wild that Wheezie had to call you to help clean up the next morning. The boy who, for years, seemed to exist solely to prove that Kooks always win.

And yet, here you are, catching yourself looking for him at every party, every gathering, even when you don’t want to admit it.

You hate it. Hate how your pulse races whenever his sharp blue eyes meet yours, how your mind replays the way his voice softened when he asked if you were okay that night. Hate how, even now, as you stand with Wheezie by the pool, your thoughts are consumed by the memory of him leaning closer in the kitchen just a few nights ago, his tone teasing but his eyes saying something else entirely.

It doesn’t help that Rafe seems to sense it. The shift in the air between you, the way you’ve started noticing him in ways you never did before. And the worst part? He seems to enjoy it.

He’s not obvious about it, not in the way he used to be when he was younger. No, this Rafe is far more subtle. He doesn’t shout or flaunt or draw attention to himself. Instead, he waits. Watches. Pushes just enough to leave you questioning everything but never enough to let you get comfortable.

It’s infuriating.

You take a long sip of your drink, hoping the buzz will drown out your spiraling thoughts. But even as you try to focus on Wheezie’s chatter and the hum of the party around you, your eyes keep drifting back toward him.

The worst part is, he doesn’t even have to try.

It’s like he’s rewritten the rules of who he is, and now you’re stuck trying to figure out where you fit in the story.

You shake the memory from your mind, blinking back into the present as the Cameron estate buzzes around you. The party has shifted into full swing now—music booming from portable speakers, a few brave souls splashing in the pool, and clusters of people laughing and drinking under the string lights that crisscross the patio. Wheezie’s long gone, swallowed up by her friends, and Sarah is playing hostess somewhere, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Or rather, alone with the memory of Rafe, the boy who used to tease you mercilessly but once left the house with a determined glare and came back bloody for his sister’s sake.

The worst part? That moment, that side of him, wasn’t as much of an anomaly as you’d tried to convince yourself. Sure, he was arrogant and annoying and drove you up the wall, but when it came to the people he cared about, Rafe was all-in. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t back down. And now, years later, you can’t stop replaying the way he showed up for you downtown, the same intensity in his eyes, the same protective edge to his voice.

It’s maddening, really.

You hate that you’re noticing these things about him. The sharp line of his jaw, the way his shirt fits just snug enough to hint at the strength beneath, the way he moves through the crowd like he knows exactly how to command attention without asking for it.

You catch sight of him again, standing near the bar and laughing at something one of his friends says. The golden glow of the string lights above him catches on the sharp cut of his jaw, the subtle curve of his smirk. He’s relaxed, leaning casually against the counter, completely at ease in his element.

You should look away. You should focus on something else, anyone else. But your gaze lingers, drawn to the effortless way he commands the space around him. It’s maddening.

And then, as if sensing your attention, Rafe’s eyes flick up and find yours across the yard.

The breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re frozen, caught in the intensity of his gaze. He doesn’t smirk this time, doesn’t do anything but hold your stare, his expression unreadable. It feels like an eternity before he finally moves, pushing off the bar and heading in your direction with that same unhurried confidence that drives you crazy.

You glance around, your nerves buzzing. Part of you wants to walk away, to avoid whatever game he’s playing. But your feet stay rooted in place, and before you know it, Rafe is standing in front of you, close enough that you can catch the faint scent of his cologne—something warm and woodsy that makes your pulse race.

“Looking for someone?”

Speak of the devil.

You turn, already knowing what you’ll find, and there he is—Rafe Cameron, standing just a few feet away, hands tucked casually into his pockets. His smirk is firmly in place, but his eyes carry that same quiet intensity you’ve come to associate with him, the kind that makes your stomach flip in a way you’re not proud of.

“No,” you say quickly, too quickly, and his smirk deepens.

“Sure about that?” he asks, stepping closer.

You resist the urge to step back, holding your ground even as your pulse quickens. “Positive. Just enjoying the party.”

“Right,” he drawls, his voice low and amused. “Because you look like you’re having so much fun standing over here by yourself.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “What do you want, Rafe?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just tilts his head slightly, studying you in that way that always feels too knowing. “You,” he says finally, his tone soft but laced with something that sends a shiver down your spine, “are way too easy to mess with.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the heat rising in your cheeks. “Glad to know I’m such a source of entertainment for you.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” he replies, his grin widening.

He’s teasing, you know he is, but there’s something else beneath his words tonight, something that feels more real than the surface-level banter you’re used to.

“Seriously,” you say, trying to shift the conversation before your heart gives itself away. “Don’t you have a crowd to charm or something?”

“Maybe I’m right where I want to be,” he says, leaning just slightly into your space. His voice drops a fraction, soft enough that it feels like it’s meant just for you. “Ever think of that?”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you can’t think of a single thing to say. He’s too close, his presence overwhelming, and all you can do is stare at him, your mind spinning with thoughts you shouldn’t be having.

You huff, turning to look out at the pool instead of his stupidly smug face. “What do you want, Rafe?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you glance back at him, surprised to find his expression softer than you expected. “You looked like you needed saving,” he says lightly, nodding toward the now-empty lounge chair where you’d been sitting.

You roll your eyes. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Are you?” He leans a little closer, just enough to make your heart skip. “Because you seem a little... tense.”

Your breath catches, and you hate the way your body reacts to him—like it’s tuned to his every word, every movement. “I’m not tense,” you manage, though your voice betrays you with its slight waver.

He grins, and it’s infuriatingly charming. “If you say so.”

The silence stretches between you, charged and crackling with something you can’t quite name. You expect him to keep teasing, to push just far enough to leave you flustered before walking away like he always does. But instead, his gaze softens, and for a moment, he just looks at you—really looks at you, like he’s trying to figure you out.

“You’re not like the rest of them,” he says finally, his voice quieter now.

The words catch you off guard, and your brows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he says simply.

And maybe you do. Maybe that’s why your chest tightens at the sincerity in his tone, the way he’s looking at you like he’s seeing something even you don’t fully understand.

Before you can respond, one of his friends calls his name from across the yard, breaking the moment like a snapped string.

Rafe sighs, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to you. “Guess I’m needed elsewhere,” he says, his usual smirk returning as he steps back.

“Shocking,” you mutter, trying to ignore the weird ache in your chest as he starts to walk away.

But then he pauses, turning back to you with a grin that’s equal parts mischievous and genuine. “You ever need saving again, you know where to find me.”

And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing there, flushed and frustrated and entirely too aware of the fact that Rafe Cameron is under your skin.

The rest of the night passes in a haze of chatter and laughter, but you barely hear any of it. Your mind keeps circling back to Rafe, to the way he looked at you, the way his words lingered in the air like a challenge and a promise all at once. It’s maddening.

By the time the party winds down, you’re exhausted—not from the noise or the crowd, but from the mental gymnastics of trying to convince yourself that Rafe Cameron doesn’t affect you. It’s a losing battle, and you know it.

Wheezie insists on walking you to your car, her arm looped through yours as she chatters about some drama with her friends. You do your best to focus, nodding at all the right moments, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

When you finally get into your car and start the drive home, the silence feels heavier than usual. The streets are dark, the glow of the headlights bouncing off the familiar bends in the road. You roll down the window, hoping the cool night air will clear your head, but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes the memory of Rafe’s gaze feel even sharper, like a ghost you can’t shake.

You pull into your driveway and sit there for a moment, the engine ticking softly as it cools. Normally, you’d go straight inside and crash, but tonight, you linger, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel. The night feels unfinished, like there’s something left unresolved.

You shake the thought away, grabbing your bag and heading inside. The house is quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the creak of the floorboards under your feet. You kick off your shoes, toss your bag onto the counter, and start the familiar routine of winding down.

But even as you wash your face and crawl into bed, you can’t stop thinking about him.

The next few days pass without incident, but the memory of Rafe sticks with you, weaving itself into the mundane moments of your routine. You see flashes of him in the strangest places—in the sharp line of a customer’s jaw at the boutique, in the golden sunlight filtering through the trees on your drive to work, in the steady confidence of someone walking down the street.

It’s ridiculous.

It’s Rafe.

And yet, no matter how hard you try to push it away, the memory of that night lingers. The way he stepped in without hesitation, the quiet assurance in his voice, the way he didn’t make a big deal of it afterward. It’s all so at odds with the version of him you’d built in your head, and it’s throwing you off balance in a way you can’t quite explain.

The next time you see him, it’s at the Cameron house again. Wheezie had texted you, begging you to come over for dinner, and you’d caved, mostly because you missed her and partly because you were curious.

You tell yourself it’s not about him.

But when you walk through the front door and spot Rafe leaning against the kitchen counter, his head tilted back in laughter, your pulse stutters.

“Hey!” Wheezie greets you, bounding over to give you a hug.

You hug her back, trying to focus on her and not the sharp blue eyes that flick over to you from across the room.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Wheezie says, pulling you toward the dining room. “Come on!”

You follow her, keeping your head down, but you can feel Rafe’s gaze on you as you pass.

The meal is lively, filled with chatter and the occasional bickering between Sarah and Wheezie. Rafe is mostly quiet, chiming in here and there but keeping his attention on his plate. You try to ignore him, but every time he moves, every time his fork scrapes against his plate or his voice cuts through the conversation, your stomach twists.

After dinner, Wheezie and Sarah disappear upstairs, leaving you alone in the kitchen as you help clear the table. You’re stacking plates by the sink when you hear footsteps behind you.

“You always this helpful?”

The voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

You glance over your shoulder, finding Rafe leaning against the counter, his arms crossed and that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Just trying to earn my keep,” you say lightly, turning back to the sink.

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. “You don’t have to do that here, you know. You’re practically family.”

The comment catches you off guard, and you pause for a moment before setting the plates down. “Didn’t realize you thought of me that way.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he says, his voice closer now.

You glance back again, finding him only a few steps away. His expression is softer than you expected, his smirk replaced by something more thoughtful.

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. “Guess I figured you’d still see me as the annoying Pogue babysitter.”

Rafe’s lips twitch, like he’s holding back a grin. “You were annoying,” he says, his tone teasing. “But you’re not a babysitter anymore.”

The air between you shifts, the playful edge to his words giving way to something heavier. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your nerves buzzing like live wires.

“I should—” you start, but your words falter as Rafe takes another step closer, his gaze locked on yours.

“You should what?” he asks, his voice low.

You don’t have an answer. Or maybe you do, but it’s lost somewhere in the haze of his closeness, the way his presence seems to fill the room.

For a moment, neither of you moves, the tension crackling like a live wire. And then, just as quickly as it started, Rafe steps back, his smirk returning as he grabs a glass from the counter.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he says, his tone light but his eyes lingering on you for just a second longer than necessary.

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the overwhelming realization that you’re in deep trouble.

That night, lying in bed, you stare up at the ceiling, your thoughts running wild. The familiar shadows stretch across your walls, the faint hum of the ceiling fan filling the quiet room. Normally, this is when your mind would wind down, drifting into blissful silence. But tonight, there’s no such luck.

Rafe Cameron is an enigma that refuses to leave your head.

You keep replaying the evening in your mind—his teasing smirk, the way he stepped closer like it was the most natural thing in the world, the way he looked at you with something you couldn’t name. It’s maddening.

And then, unbidden, another memory surfaces. One you haven’t thought about in years but suddenly feels impossible to ignore.

You were sixteen, still babysitting Wheezie regularly, and you’d just gotten a new pair of shoes. Nothing extravagant, just a pair of sneakers you’d saved up for with months of odd jobs. You were excited about them, maybe a little too excited, and you made the mistake of mentioning it when Rafe wandered into the kitchen where you were helping Wheezie with her art project.

“Nice kicks,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery as he leaned against the counter. “Did they give those away for free at the thrift store?”

You glared at him, bristling. “I bought them, actually.”

“With what? Spare change you found under the couch cushions?” he shot back, smirking as he reached over to steal a cookie from the tray you’d set out for Wheezie.

“Leave her alone, Rafe,” Wheezie piped up, frowning at her brother.

But Rafe didn’t listen. He kept going, poking fun at everything from the color of the shoes to the brand, all with that infuriating grin plastered on his face.

At the time, you’d been furious. You’d wanted to snap back, to tell him off, but you didn’t. Instead, you’d rolled your eyes, muttered something about how he didn’t know anything about fashion, and went back to helping Wheezie.

Now, though, lying in bed, the memory feels…different.

You remember the way his eyes lingered on your shoes, the way his teasing felt more pointed than usual, like he was testing you. You remember how, when you finally left the house that night, you caught him watching you from the window, his expression unreadable.

And then there was Ward.

Ward, who always seemed to have some sly remark about how much time you spent at the house, about how Rafe “just couldn’t leave you alone.”

You’d dismissed it at the time, laughed it off as some weird dad joke that didn’t land. The idea of Rafe Cameron—spoiled, obnoxious, impossible Rafe—having a crush on you was absurd.

But now?

Now, as you lie there, replaying every interaction in excruciating detail, the idea doesn’t feel so absurd anymore.

The way he teased you relentlessly, always finding a reason to be around when you were at the house. The way he’d watch you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The way his smirk would falter sometimes, just for a second, like he was debating whether to say something more.

It all takes on a new light, and the realization sends a shiver down your spine.

Rafe Cameron had been in your orbit for years, a constant, infuriating presence that you’d never thought to question. But now, as the pieces start to fall into place, you can’t help but wonder if you’d been blind to something that was always there.

And maybe—just maybe—you were starting to see it now.

The realization lingers with you, threading itself into your days like an invisible tether you can’t shake. Every time you think you’ve managed to push Rafe Cameron out of your head, something brings him back. A passing thought, a fleeting memory, the sound of a voice that’s too close to his. It’s driving you mad.

It doesn’t help that the Cameron house has become a second home again. Sarah and Wheezie keep pulling you into their plans, which always seem to conveniently land you back at the sprawling estate. And Rafe? He’s there more than ever now—clean-cut, focused, and still as infuriating as ever.

You keep telling yourself it’s nothing. That whatever strange shift you’re feeling is in your head. But the tension between you is undeniable, crackling in the air every time you’re in the same room.

The Cameron living room was alive with laughter, the sounds of dice clattering against the wooden coffee table and Wheezie’s triumphant cheer filling the air. Game night had started with its usual chaos, everyone fighting over who got to pick the first game, but now the competition was in full swing.

“What are the odds,” you muttered under your breath, eyeing the tiny slip of paper in your hand with a mixture of resignation and disbelief.

Sarah leaned over your shoulder, peering at the name written there, and burst out laughing. “Oh, this is too good.”

You shot her a look, crumpling the paper in your fist. “What’s so funny?”

“Just… you and Rafe? On the same team? It’s poetic, really.” She wiggled her eyebrows before ducking out of reach as you swatted at her.

Rafe, of course, was leaning back against the kitchen counter like he didn’t have a care in the world, a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. His eyes slid to yours as if he’d been waiting for this moment, his smirk just wide enough to make you want to throw something at him.

“Guess we’re stuck together, huh?” he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy.

You forced a tight-lipped smile. “Looks like it.”

It wasn’t that you disliked Rafe—not anymore, at least. But being paired with him for family game night meant opening yourself up to endless teasing and that annoyingly competitive streak he’d never quite grown out of.

“Don’t worry,” he added, pushing off the counter and heading toward you. “I’ll carry us.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” you shot back, earning a quiet laugh from Wheezie, who was busy setting up the game board in the living room.

By the time everyone gathered around the coffee table, the mood had shifted to something lighter, easier. You found yourself sitting shoulder to shoulder with Rafe, his broad frame taking up far more space than was necessary.

“Alright, Cameron Dream Team,” Sarah said with a grin, motioning between you and Rafe. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The first few rounds went about as expected—Rafe being overly confident, you rolling your eyes, and the rest of the Camerons watching the two of you with varying degrees of amusement. But as the game wore on, you realized something strange: you and Rafe actually worked well together.

It wasn’t just that you were winning (although that certainly helped). It was the way he’d glance at you for confirmation before making a move, or the way your banter seemed to flow effortlessly, pulling laughter from the rest of the room.

“Unstoppable,” he declared after another win, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

You snorted. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Rose, who had been quietly observing from her spot on the couch, chimed in then, her voice cutting through the lighthearted chaos. “You two make a good team,” she said, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. “In the game and… otherwise.”

The words hung in the air like an errant firework, startling and impossible to ignore.

You felt your face heat immediately, your fingers fumbling with the edge of your sleeve. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe shift in his seat, his expression unreadable for a moment before a small, almost sheepish smile tugged at his lips.

“Maybe she’s right,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Your stomach flipped. Whether it was the implication behind his words or the way his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that the heat in your cheeks was impossible to shake.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of laughter and friendly competition. Rafe stayed closer than usual, his elbow brushing yours every so often as he leaned over the board or reached for the dice. You told yourself it was nothing—coincidence, proximity—but your heart betrayed you, skipping every time his eyes found yours.

By the time the last game wrapped up, the clock had crept past midnight, and everyone was beginning to drift. Sarah and Wheezie headed upstairs, Rose disappeared into the kitchen, and Ward had retreated to his office hours ago.

You stood by the front door, pulling on your jacket, when Rafe’s voice stopped you.

“Hold up. I’ll walk you out.”

You turned to find him shrugging into a hoodie, his hands already sliding into his pockets.

“You don’t have to,” you said, though you didn’t mean it.

He shrugged. “It’s late. Humor me.”

The cool night air hit you as the two of you stepped outside, the faint crash of waves in the distance punctuating the quiet. You walked side by side down the driveway, the gravel crunching under your feet.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “remember when Wheezie tried to convince us she’d trained that stray cat to do tricks?”

You laughed, the memory flooding back. “She was so serious about it too. I think she even made a schedule for ‘training sessions.’”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “And then it scratched the hell out of me when I tried to pick it up.”

“Serves you right for thinking you could pet a feral cat.”

“It wasn’t that feral,” he said, grinning. “Just… misunderstood.”

The conversation flowed easily, memories and laughter spilling out like water from a cracked vase. It felt natural, effortless, like no time had passed since the days you spent chasing Wheezie through the halls of the Cameron estate.

When you finally reached your car, the laughter faded, replaced by a quiet that felt heavier than before. You turned to face him, leaning against the door as his gaze dropped to the ground, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

“So, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “I was thinking…”

You tilted your head, waiting, your heart thudding in your chest.

“Would you wanna grab dinner sometime?” he blurted, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Like… just us?”

For a moment, you stared at him, thrown by the nervous energy radiating off him. This was Rafe Cameron—confident, sharp-tongued Rafe—and yet here he was, looking at you like a boy afraid of being turned down.

You couldn’t help it—a soft laugh escaped you, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” you said, your smile widening. “You’re just… nervous. It’s kind of cute.”

He rolled his eyes, but the faint flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “Is that a yes or not?”

“It’s a yes,” you said, still smiling.

His relief was immediate and almost comical, his grin spreading wide enough to make your chest ache. “Good,” he said, nodding like he was trying to play it cool. “Good.”

As you slipped into your car, he leaned against the door, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“Drive safe,” he said, his voice softer now.

“I will,” you replied, your heart still thrumming as you pulled away.

For the first time, the idea of Rafe Cameron didn’t feel impossible. It felt… right.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[videokilled]

Vox giggled under his breath as Alastor talked about ‘these humans’ as if he had just landed from space. He would be lying if he wasn’t getting the little flip flop of excitement in his gut at trying out his craft up top again. After all his success and practice down below.

“I’m introducing you as David they look like bible thumpers..” Vox said under his breath as one of the men moved over to intercept them understandably. Two strange men approaching their families.

The moment the man called out to him, Vox seemed to just flip his sleezeball switch, and his voice matched the others immediately. Volume intensity, even the crescendo. He shook hands with the man and immediately launched into a story about how he didn’t want to pull the man away from his family- but if he could spare 10 minutes to get them to the nearest car rental area it would be a blessing. His mannerisms were so loose and to someone like Alastor it was probably so obviously a blatant mirroring tactic. Just simple flattery and matching presumed values and priorities. Lots of flat open hand movements and within a minute, Vox was standing at the man’s side instead of face to face with him.

The man said he would have to ask his wife and it was his kids game and yadda yadda- Vox introduced himself as John and Alastor as David, and even said he had a wife he was trying to not keep waiting with a made up daughter as well.

The man seemed sympathetic but ‘had his hands tied’ until Vox mentioned that his phone service wasn’t working and how anything could happen when you were out of touch.

Then the man put his hands up and said he would ask his wife, since the half time was coming up in the game.

As he walked away Vox gave Alastor one of the most smug looks. Clearly very pleased with himself, and enjoying it immensely.

If only took another minute before the man came back, with another man at his side. Happy to tell Vox and Alastor they would indeed drive them just to the nearest car rental place in the downtown area, just about ten minutes drive.

Vox shook the other man’s hand too and introduced themselves again under their fake names and used a lot of ‘God bless you’ language. Throwing in a very shallow and tacky dad joke. To which they both laughed and said they would bring the car around, then walked off.

The tv demon looked back at Alastor with a very proud grin and rubbed his palms together like it had given him some kind of adrenaline rush.

“This is going to be so fun.” He whispered under his breath.

The tv demon watched the other arrange his outfit, and his own self consciousness grew. Nothing he couldn’t stuff down. But it felt odd. This was not something he would wear presently- and if he were honest- if he ever met the version of himself that used to frequent this.. he would off him without a thought given the chance.

The other option though was to just go about with the white t shirt he had on underneath it. And that was far too undone. Regardless of current fashion. Which- weirdly enough. He did recognize some of the fashion from the distant stragglers going about their business. Velvette had done a good job keeping them up to date on that.

He did at least however push his sleeve cuffs up toward his elbows. Then did a double take at how much lighter his own skin was, caught up in looking over his own hands again. Momentarily though.

Vox’s attention was immediately caught by Alastor asking if he knew how to traverse the sides of a road.

“I’m not walking thirty some miles. There’s traffic all over. We can get a ride. And no I didn’t get a hotel. It took me weeks just to get the location out of you.”

Vox started walking toward a much wider area that looked like it was some sort of church outing. Lots of teens and tweens running around playing soccer on some grass with the adults in chairs and chatting and laughing nearby. But it was a football field or so away, it would be a walk, but he wasn’t opening this trip with walking a dirt road pointlessly.

Besides. This was his shtick. He could get some bucket heads to drive him somewhere.

[certainempatheticturkeymuffin]

Saw a post about Mushang and it's similarities to Liushen, then thought about how interesting it would be to have those in the same fic — then I went down a rabbit hole that included Mobing and Gongzhi (for some reason?)

so... here's this plotbunny, it's really fucking long though, sorry!

(oops, it posted before I finished, sorry about that, it's fixed now!)

-

Shang Qinghua knew, theoretically, that his death would be at the hands of Mobei-jun. He knew that when he saved him, he knew that all these years of serving him, but... it's finally sunk in. That Mobei-jun is going to kill him. That the bruises and frostbite and broken bones are all leading up to his death. He wraps another cut and thinks, somewhat deliriously... that maybe he should've killed Mobei-jun on that mission.

Shen Qingqiu knew his fate — the fate of the Scum Villain. He knew that any goodwill he'd built up was destroyed the moment he pushed Luo Binghe into the Abyss. Knows that all those years of treating him well, only to betray him, may have actually made the situation worse. He thinks back on that day, suddenly realizing that he probably could've made it look like an accident — he could've had Binghe "accidentally" pushed into the Abyss during the chaos, could've faked a Without-A-Cure flare up to excuse his lack of rescue. Maybe, if he'd done that, Binghe would've had mercy.

Their weekly meetings become stilted, their tea goes cold, their snacks uneaten. They don't argue about Airplane's terrible writing, they don't even reminisce over AC or the internet. The air is filled with unease, polluting each of their peaks... until they both snap. They confide in each other, cursing the System, cursing their choices, and try to plan — to dig themselves out of these holes they've dug. The clock is ticking for Binghe's return. Shang Qinghua's wounds are getting worse — he doesn't know if his death will be expedited or delayed at this rate.

And so, they argue and plan and eventually come to a few conclusions...

Shang Qinghua needs the protection of the sect. Needs to confess and beg for Yue Qingyuan's protection as he abandons Mobei-jun. Needs the protection of someone Mobei-jun had no chance of defeating.

Shen Qingqiu, likewise, needs protection — but it's written that Luo Binghe cannot lose, not to anyone in the sect... no one, except for Liu Qingge, who didn't live long enough to fight him, who didn't have a single canonical fight for the world to measure him against. The War God. The one person that wasn't bound by the narrative.

They decide to deal with Shang Qinghua first — Binghe isn't scheduled to leave the Abyss for years, after all. Mobei-jun, however, is a current threat. Every meeting leaves Shang Qinghua with more and more injuries, injuries that the original goods never had to deal with. They don't know if this Mobei-jun is going to follow PIDW's timeline. They don't know how long it'll take before he beats Shang Qinghua to a bloody pulp. After some arguing, it's agreed to come clean to Mu Qingfang first — to test the waters. He's been treating all of Shang Qinghua's wounds since they were disciples, and he'd be good back up if Yue Qingyuan didn't immediately cave to Shen Qingqiu's demands. Of course, Shang Qinghua wouldn't tell the complete truth — no one needed to know that Shang Qinghua spared Mobei-jun because he was hot — but he wouldn't alter the story too much. Better to keep to small lies, easy to keep consistent.

If it goes poorly... they'll just run. They'll abandon the friends and family they've found here, and they'll use whatever plot devices they can find to disguise themselves. The only reason it's not Plan A is because Mobei-jun knows Shang Qinghua's qi signature, and the only artifacts they know that can change qi signatures are... annoying to acquire and dangerous to use.

-

Mu Qingfang isn't surprised when Shang-shixiong shows up with various injuries, absolutely covered in demonic qi. It's routine at this point to sit him down, perform a check up, and ask questions he knows won't be answered. So he does. He heals the cuts and bruises, sets and heals the bones, and does his best to calm the eternally-stressed qi lest his shixiong have a deviation. He asks how this happened, expecting the usual evasive answer (hating that his shixiong is being abused while he does nothing but fix the aftermath), and...

and Shang Qinghua answers.

His shixiong, after years– decades of asking, stutters out an explanation. That he's been a spy for Mobei-jun since that mission where he was the only survivor. That he did it because he was scared, that by the time he was powerful enough to do anything about it, Mobei-jun was a king, and it would probably start a war if he killed him. He says Mobei-jun's been hurting him more often, that he's terrified he's going to die, and Mu Qingfang carefully soothes his shixiong's qi as tears start to fall and he stutters out his plan to team up with Shen-shixiong to tell Zhangmen-shixiong, to beg for forgiveness — for protection, even if it means sitting in a prison cell. He just doesn't want to die.

And in the face of his sobbing shixiong, constantly over-worked and terrified, Mu Qingfang promises to help. Because what else can he do? Turn his back on the shixiong he's been watching slowly fall apart over the decades? The shixiong he's watched go from introverted to downright anxious — the shixiong he's had to pick up and put back together with increasing frequency. Even if he hadn't come clean, Mu Qingfang would've had to have done something soon, with the way the injuries were increasing in severity. He's just glad Shang-shixiong told him first, so they could approach the sect leader together. It wouldn't have been good for his shixiong's stress levels if he'd demanded the sect leader interrogate him to figure out what was going on.

So, the two meet up with Shen Qingqiu and demand a meeting with Yue Qingyuan, who, as always, immediately makes time for Shen-shixiong. Shang Qinghua stutters through his story again, Mu Qingfang regulating his qi, and Shen Qingqiu bringing out a particular icy glare whenever Yue Qingyuan looks like he's going to interrupt. Zhangmen-shixiong's face is carefully blank by the time Shang Qinghua finishes speaking, at which point, Mu Qingfang decides to speak up.

He tells Zhangmen-shixiong of the countless injuries over the decades, of his certainty of their demonic origin, even during that first meeting. He tells the sect leader that if Shang Qinghua is going to be punished for protecting himself, for preventing a war, then he'll need to punish Mu Qingfang too. As a head disciple, he should've reported any suspicious injuries to his shizun, as a Peak Lord, he should've immediately informed Zhangmen-shixiong of Shang Qinghua's continuous injuries and of their suspiciously demonic origin. He says that he has even less of an excuse than Shang Qinghua, who was genuinely afraid for his life and the well-being of his sect. Mu Qingfang simply didn't want to make the situation worse for him, ignoring all rules and expectations that would've had the situation cleared up sooner.

Shen Qingqiu, clearly approving of Mu Qingfang's ardent defense, decides to continue, stating that the sect hasn't experienced an increase in failed missions or other sabotage. He explains that, clearly, Shang Qinghua had been doing his best to protect the sect, even under such strenuous circumstances. He sees no reason to be harsh towards someone who'd been a child when it started, and who was so thoroughly terrified that he only approached Shen Qingqiu, as a friend, because he could see he'd end up dead sooner or later due to the beatings.

Yue Qingyuan lets them all say their piece, and sighs. He sees Shang Qinghua's terror, and he understands both Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu's arguments. He says that this was a breach of trust, that ordinarily this would call for execution, but... Shang Qinghua has not caused harm to the sect, and had he continued, the only harm would've been to himself. As long as Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu are willing to bear the consequences, Yue Qingyuan will allow this to be swept under the rug, never spoken of again.

Mu Qingfang and Shen Qingqiu are quick to agree, and Shang Qinghua's punishment is to update the sect's defense arrays... left unsaid was the expectation that Mobei-jun never be able to enter the sect again. And so, the matter is dealt with, and Shang-shixiong looks like he's had the weight of the world lifted off him once the arrays are complete.

So long as he doesn't leave the sect without a qi-cloaking artifact (courtesy of the Artifact Peak), he'll be safe. Mu Qingfang feels... thrilled, to know his shixiong won't have to suffer anymore.

-

Liu Qingge notices Shen Qingqiu's nerves as he cleanses his meridians. It's an unexpected change of pace, given the dour mood the man's been in for... months, at this point. The session finishes in silence, but there's an air of anticipation that has Liu Qingge... loitering, just a bit.

Eventually, Shen Qingqiu lets out a sigh, pours him tea, and starts to talk — quietly, as if ashamed of his words. He shares that, during the chaos at the end of the Immortal Alliance Concerence, his prized disciple broke a seal. It had been placed on him at birth, presumably by one of his parents, and revealed him to be a heavenly demon. He explains that he panicked at the sight of the seal, understanding what it meant, but his disciple looked just as shocked as him. He understood that his disciple was a demon, that he clearly didn't know that fact, and given the presence of multiple sects and the ongoing catastrophe... his disciple would die, if anyone else stumbled upon him.

Liu Qingge listens, as Shen Qingqiu shares that he pushed his own disciple into the Endless Abyss. His grief makes more sense now, Liu Qingge thinks. It's not just the grief of a teacher losing their favorite student, it's also the guilt of pushing that student into danger, even if it's to protect them. Even he would've hesitated to cut down the disciple, if he'd formed such a bond and the child clearly had no idea what was going on.

They continue sitting in silence, and Liu Qingge is almost ready to leave, before Shen Qingqiu speaks up again. He explains that Luo Binghe was a heavenly demon, and the last one — presumably his father — required the collaboration of multiple sects to seal away. There's a chance that Luo Binghe will survive the Abyss, and escape it.

There's a muted fear in Shen Qingqiu's eyes, as he states there's a chance Luo Binghe will hunt him down. That, given a demon's propensity for overreactions, he may take the entire sect with him. It wasn't like he explained his reasoning, when he pushed the child into the Abyss. All he'd know is that his caring shizun saw he was a demon and immediately pushed him into hell.

And Liu Qingge can understand that fear. Heavenly Demons were strong, too strong for even him to be confident in facing them alone. Even if this one was a child, if it managed to escape the Abyss... it would be too strong for Shen Qingqiu to survive. There's an obvious solution then: train until Shen Qingqiu is strong enough to at least run away.

He says that they'll go on hunts together, so Shen Qingqiu can fight those beasts he knows so much about, to get in practice as they look for any artifact that might help him. He says they'll spar, and he'll even let him face the Bai Zhan disciples for variety. Shen Qingqiu is... reluctant, but quickly realizes that it's probably his best option. With the condition that they return to the sect at least once a month to check on his disciples, he agrees to Liu Qingge's proposal.

They'll both train, and Liu Qingge won't let him out of sight for even a moment — not with a heavenly demon after his head.

-

The months afterwards are... peaceful.

An Ding grows used to the sight of Mu Qingfang, who arrives just before dawn every morning to share breakfast with Shang Qinghua before they must start work. They do each other's hair and gossip, sharing whatever happened the day before as they get ready. Without the constant fear, and with Mu Qingfang's help taming his curls (as the only other one in the sect with curly hair), the sect slowly comes to realize that Shang Qinghua is a total knockout, actually, it was just hidden behind frizzy hair, eyebags, and his constant terrified hunching.

There are still bad days, of course, where Mu Qingfang has to insist he delegate his work to his head disciple, or where Shang Qinghua ends up on Qian Cao in the middle of the night having a panic attack, but... they're growing rarer as time passes. Qian Cao learns to turn their heads when Shang Qinghua arrives with an early shipment or unexpected, expensive goods. They learn to mind their business when they see him comfort their Shizun after a particularly challenging day.

It doesn't really surprise anyone when they start courting. The only surprise is that Shang Qinghua is the one that started it, but even that is less shocking now than it would've been the year before. An Ding is happy that their shifu finally looks safe and healthy (he actually stops working at a reasonable hour now, even if it is still after sunset), and Qian Cao is glad their shizun has someone of his own to vent to (given the stress of his job and the various struggles that come with it).

As for Qing Jing, they're absolutely thrilled that their shizun isn't moping anymore. The loss of Binghe hit them hard too, but seeing Shen Qingqiu make the effort to go on hunts made it easier for them to move on too. They miss him, when he's gone, but he always returns with treats from various villages, and a week's worth of stories and lessons to impart. He's even compiled his own bestiary! Ning Yingying has taken to giving Liu Qingge sweets as a thank you for helping her shizun, and Ming Fan grows more comfortable in his old role as head disciple, with how his shizun actually sees him and compliments him, rather than missing Binghe. The Bamboo House is still... a very hard place to be. Without Shizun, it's empty, and even with his recovery, the vacant room seems to bring back his grief.

Seeing this, Qing Jing is both relieved and absolutely pissed when Liu Qingge offers up his spare room instead. Shen Qingqiu accepts, and it's become common for him to join the Bai Zhan disciples in their morning exercises before returning to teach on Qing Jing. They are, understandably, absolutely pumped to have another Peak Lord around to fight (on top of their own being around more often! Shifu teaches them more! And is he getting better at it? What miracles!)

They settle into a routine, and, though it takes an unexpectedly long time, they announce their courting to Yue Qingyuan, who looks both heartbroken and extremely happy for them. Qing Jing gives Liu Qingge a surprisingly scary shovel talk (though he's mostly amused, he respects their dedication), but are overall very happy that their shizun is happy. Bai Zhan is just cheering that another Peak Lord has basically taken up permanent residence, since Shen Qingqiu stays in Liu Qingge's house rather than the bamboo house. They enjoy the unique challenge he gives, and some of the braver ones tell their shifu that he better treat him right or they'll try to take him for themselves (he went particularly hard on them after that, but they had zero regrets — Shen-shibo is a catch after all!)

Meanwhile, Mobei-jun is... frustrated and heartbroken. He can no longer enter Cang Qiong Sect, and he can no longer find Shang Qinghua's qi signature. He doesn't know why — was Shang Qinghua caught? Is he dead? Why else would he just... randomly leave? He's stuck with Mobei-jun for decades, why would he leave now? What was the catalyst? Was he truly so uncomfortable with Mobei-jun's courting? Why wouldn't he just say so!?

The questions leave him angry and frustrated, with no way to get answers. It's only after he enters Luo Binghe's service (an embarrassing loss — would he have done better with Qinghua's advice?) that he finally gets... something of an answer. A potential explanation.

Luo Binghe has no friends in the demon realm, trusts absolutely no one, but he's still a kind person. When he sees that Mobei-jun is frustrated, all it takes is that curly haired boy (a face so similar to Qinghua's) asking for all the questions to come spilling out. Whether it takes hours or minutes, Mobei-jun doesn't know, all he remembers is the lesson from that conversation:

Humans court differently. Constant physical bombardment is known as abuse.

And Mobei-jun is sick.

He hurt Qinghua. He drove away the one man that stuck with him through everything, just because he couldn't be bothered to double check that his courting would be understood. According to Luo Binghe... it was a miracle Shang Qinghua hadn't left sooner. And the worst part? Mobei-jun can't right this wrong. He can't explain himself. Because Cang Qiong has new wards, and Shang Qinghua has figured out how to make himself thoroughly disappear, even though Mobei-jun does receive word when the Peak Lord is spotted during a trade deal. He can't get Qinghua back. There's nothing he can do.

So he stays by Luo Binghe's side. His curly hair, his similar face... these days, Mobei-jun curses himself for not digging into Shang Qinghua's history. For this boy is an orphan, a street rat, and now it would be near impossible to find out his true relation to Shang Qinghua, given that no one knew which humans Tianlang-jun had bed. It doesn't truly matter, whether he is a cousin, brother, or nephew, Mobei-jun will right his wrongs through Shang Qinghua's kin, unable to reach the man himself.

-

When Luo Binghe leaves the Demon Realm, he goes to Huan Hua, and things progress pretty much as they did in canon, with Shen Qingqiu running, absolutely fucking terrified, being force fed blood, and agreeing to be held in the Water Prison to avoid blowback on the sect. Only difference is that Liu Qingge tried to kill LBH, which almost caused an incident with Huan Hua, because no one believed he was a demon. In the water prison, Luo Binghe sees... a ring. He knows his shizun never wore that before, so he asks about it. Not wanting to put Liu Qingge in even more danger, Shen Qingqiu stays silent.

Gongyi Xiao helps Shen Qingqiu escape, and things continue to progress. When Liu Qingge squares up to fight Luo Binghe, he notices him wearing a ring, threaded onto a necklace, and so similar to Shen Qingqiu's. It doesn't take him long to process the fact that his beloved shizun is... already taken.

By Liu fucking Qingge.

He's thoroughly pissed off, he goes to attack, but pauses when he sees his shizun grip Liu-shishu tightly, shaking like a leaf. He looks like he's preparing to take his husband and run. The thought is... off-putting. Because Liu Qingge is the War God of Bai Zhan Peak. Why doesn't Shizun have faith in the man he married?

So he asks.

And Shen Qingqiu doesn't answer.

Liu Qingge still hasn't relaxed, ready to attack at any moment, and Luo Binghe is running out of patience.

"If Shizun finds this demon despicable enough to throw into the Abyss, he should let his husband kill it."

"That's not why he did it."

Liu Qingge's words throw him off balance. He expected the man to be shocked, hearing that his loving husband had done such a thing (maybe cause a rift in their relationship), he expected, maybe, to be attacked for being so disrespectful.

Liu Qingge then explains, because Shen Qingqiu is terrified into silence.

And Luo Binghe is crushed. Shizun threw him into the Abyss... to save him? Shizun was scared for his safety?

And suddenly Luo Binghe feels sick, when he remembers what he's done. How he hurt Shizun, who was too scared to answer. Who just wanted to protect him, only to realize later that he wasn't thinking straight — that his words were twisted in his effort to get Luo Binghe into the safest place possible in that moment: the Endless Abyss. The shizun that believed in his capabilities enough to be afraid that he'd come seeking revenge.

The fight drains out of him, Liu Qingge doesn't relax, but Shen Qingqiu behind him looks just the slightest bit more curious than terrified. Luo Binghe pulls out a note, written from Mobei-jun to Shang Qinghua, and drops it onto the roof. "This disciple apologizes to Shizun. Please ensure this message gets to Shang-shishu." He uses Xin Mo to teleport to a different roof, staying just long enough to see Liu Qingge hand the note to Shen Qingqiu, who collapsed bonelessly into his side.

He goes to the Northern Desert, rather than the Southern Kingdom. He arrives in the sitting area of Mobei-jun's quarters, and plops himself into a seat. He thinks, and thinks, and he's feeling absolutely awful by the time Mobei-jun arrives. He takes one look at Luo Binghe's disheveled state, and takes the seat next to him.

They talk.

Mobei-jun is a surprisingly comforting presence. He'd always listened and offered advice, but Luo Binghe didn't think he'd have the patience for talking him through... whatever the hell this is. Heartbreak? He isn't sure.

It helps though, and Luo Binghe feels much lighter. Mobei-jun had already promised to never darken Cang Qiong's doorstep, to never go anywhere near Shang Qinghua again, after what he'd done... Luo Binghe would just have to do the same. Even if all he wanted was to go back to Qing Jing, to his room in the Bamboo House... but Shizun is married now, there's no way he'd allow Luo Binghe to stay there permanently.

So he just... stays in the Demon Realm. He's an emperor now, surely Shizun wouldn't want him neglecting that duty? And even if he would've liked Shizun's advice... Mobei-jun would have to do. He had experience, and he's been nothing but helpful. Decision made, Luo Binghe embraces his status as the Demon Emperor, and gives it his full attention.

Without him, Shen Qingqiu's trial falls apart, even as the Palace Master accuses Liu Qingge of killing Luo Binghe. There's not enough concrete evidence for Shen Qingqiu's crimes, and the character defenses from the sect and his husband all speak louder than Qiu Haitang's slander. Even if Liu Qingge was in extremely hot water with Huan Hua, they couldn't prove he'd done anything either.

Shen Qingqiu delivers Mobei-jun's note to Mu Qingfang, asking him to be there when Shang Qinghua read it, because who knew what was in it. He agrees, and they read it as soon as possible, to get it over with.

It's an apology, with an explanation of their different cultures and a promise to never bother him again. It's a promise to right his wrongs through Luo Binghe, who he assumes to be related to Shang Qinghua through the boy's mother. It's short and blunt, and Shang Qinghua is... conflicted. He loves Mu Qingfang, and honestly, couldn't even dream of a life without him, but... Mobei-jun was his dream man. Thinking like that... perhaps it was for the best that they didn't end up together. The reality could never live up to the expectation.

More importantly, is him remembering his half-sister in this life: Xi-jie. Who had suddenly cut contact with him completely, and who he'd never managed to track down afterwards, not having known her full name. Shang Qinghua is crushed, to realize the protagonist was that close to being given a better life. Had Su Xiyan managed to contact him at any point, he would've taken her son in in a heartbeat. Mu Qingfang consoles him, and they decide, jointly, that it was for the best if he didn't pursue that relationship. Not with Mobei-jun promising to stick by the boy, and not with the way he'd treated Shen Qingqiu.

And everyone just... moves on with their lives.

Mu Qingfang and Shang Qinghua are happy together; they have three kids that get absolutely spoiled by their disciples, and they take care of each other, ensuring neither overworks too severely. Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu, without the threat of Binghe's return hanging over them, relax more. They enjoy peaceful days with the Qing Jing disciples, they have fun jointly beating up the Bai Zhan disciples and teaching them new moves, and their hunts aren't nearly as battle-focused as they were before, giving Shen Qingqiu a chance to study the beasts rather than immediately going to fight them.

Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun are rarely apart and treat each other as equals in all things. They value the other's advice when implementing policies, and they will each jump to the other's defense, whether it be physically or through words. It surprises absolutely no one when their affair is found out — at first a convenient way to control Xin Mo, eventually morphing into a proper relationship. They're the rulers of the demon realm, they need not abide by the rules, but... Luo Binghe enjoys planning the wedding, and Mobei-jun can't deny him that, even if it meant dealing with the paperwork of technically merging the two kingdoms but also not. Their broken hearts have long been mended by each other, and it's no surprise when they have six children, close-knit and loving, like the family they wished they'd had sooner.

-

Tianlang-jun rotted away, despite Zhuzhi-lang's best efforts. His last act was to give Zhuzhi-lang enough energy to sustain his human form indefinitely. He is purposeless, and alone, and he sits beside his uncle's corpse for far longer than he should have. There's nothing left for him, not with his uncle gone.

So he exits the cave, and he sits under a tree, out in the open. He is very clearly a demon within Huan Hua territory, so it wouldn't take long for a cultivator to stumble upon him and put him out of his misery. Sure enough, in the middle of his patrol, Gongyi Xiao sees a snake demon just... sitting there. He doesn't look hostile, nor does he look like he's going to move.

He also just... looks kinda pathetic.

So, Gongyi Xiao makes a decision. He can't, in good conscience, leave it there. If he does, and it attacks someone, that's his fault. He also can't just kill it if it's not even doing anything. So he decides to... initiate conversation.

It takes a while for Zhuzhi-lang to bother properly responding, but once he does, they get along quite well. He shares stories about his and his uncle's journies through the human realm, reminiscing as he starts to process his grief. Gongyi Xiao decides, maybe this demon isn't that bad actually, and before they know it, it's sun down and Gongyi Xiao is very late.

They meet daily, with Gongyi Xiao taking on more patrols than usual to make sure his demon is doing alright. Eventually, though, pieces of Zhuzhi-lang's story start to... click. They conflict with things he's been told by his shizun. Maybe Zhuzhi-lang is misremembering in his grief, but... he's concerned enough to start investigating on his own.

He finds a lot of dirt on the Old Palace Master, most of it completely unrelated to Su Xiyan, which is what he was actually trying to investigate. Eventually, he grows so disgusted with the sheer amount of crimes the old man has committed that he decides to just... start a coup. He's well-liked, so it's easy enough to get people on his side — it's even easier when he starts spreading rumors and has all of the man's misdeeds printed into a fairly popular book (more than a few publishing houses were burned down because of it, oops). He didn't... intend to replace the old man, but that's what happened and, hey, now he can bring his demon home and no one can fight him over it, yes sect leaders, he's perfectly sane, thank you.

Zhuzhi-lang learns that he's just as attracted to competence and beauty as Tianlang-jun, he just prefers his with a side of kindness rather than tsundere. He also finds it incredibly funny that everyone just... pointedly ignores his presence. A demon he may be, but their sect leader wanted him there, so there he would stay. The whole scenario brings to mind the forbidden romances his uncle loved to read about. As he settles in, watching Gongyi Xiao overhaul Huan Hua Palace and all its greedy rules, he thinks his uncle would want to see how this story ends.

-

AND THAT'S IT! My wrists hurt and i accidentally posted before it was done, lmao, but yeah. Feel free to write this, I feel like I'd start it and never finish lol

[forthegothicheroine]

I don't know if you do requests for the Great Detectives, but I'd love to see how you think the Great Detectives would handle the murder of King Hamlet of Denmark.

This is a GREAT one! The big question is whether they all talk to the ghost of the dead king; I think I'm going to have to take that on a case-by-case basis, with whatever feels right for any specific detective.

So, in a series I do sometimes, how would various great detectives solve the murder of King Hamlet...

Sherlock Holmes: Well, obviously ghosts don't exist, so jot that down. But in Holmes's experience, living humans often pretend to be ghosts (or even make dogs pretend to be ghosts!) so who could this be? The young prince Hamlet, who everybody says has gone mad? Holmes deduces that he isn't mad at all, and is in fact conducting psychological warfare against his hated uncle; while Holmes disapproves, he concludes that the boy is completely right about Claudius due to his knowledge of the play The Murder of Gonzago, as seen when he's upset about changes in a production. The Murder of Gonzago is a play which premiered in a town in Denmark known for its manufacturing of poisons for pest control!

Hercule Poirot: Poirot is quite sad to hear that the monarch who invited him as a celebrity guest has died; why does this always have to happen when he goes on vacation? Polonius spies on the guy to see what he's up to, but Poirot is much better at snooping on people than he is, and nobody can keep anything hidden for very long. He gives a summation where he reveals Claudius killed his brother. Prince Hamlet immediately goes to attack his uncle and they struggle over a sword. King Claudius falls dead and Poirot bows out, because determining whether Hamlet should suffer consequences or just become king is not his department.

Sam and Peter: Hear me out- if we bump Hamlet down from ambiguously college-aged to ambiguously high school aged, we can replace Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. These two nerdy kids are shipped in to cheer their friend (more like acquaintance) Hamlet up, and to his surprise, they respond to his depressing monologues by taking notes and asking for further details on why the world is so corrupt. Hamlet isn't so happy about them doing an investigation into "What is up with Hamlet's super hot mom?" but when they suggest interviewing Claudius to see if he has the face of a liar, he enlists them to help out with putting on The Murder of Gonzago. The rest of the play mostly goes the same, but they find the letter Claudius planted on them and show it to Hamlet. One of the last lines of the play is when Fortinbras is looking at everyone lying dead, but then Osric points out "Sam and Peter are alive!"

Phryne Fisher: Phryne is a dubious (if genteel) woman Laertes has taken up with, whom Polonius is doing everything in his power to drive away. Phryne doesn't care, but it does bring her attention to the fact that the man is apparently constantly spying on everyone in the castle. On whose behalf is he doing this? King Claudius? Is he afraid someone may assassinate him because of his brother's suspicious death? What was the official story about that, anyway? She exchanges sexy insults with Prince Hamlet, refusing to be cowed, and ultimately agrees to play the queen in his production of The Murder of Gonzago (where she gets a little too into the love scene.) When she turns and looks directly in Claudius's eye in the audience during a crucial line, she can see the answer to everything. Claudius tries to convince Laertes to kill her, saying she corrupted Ophelia into being a whore for a mad prince, but Laertes can't go through with it and kills Claudius instead.

Dale Cooper: King Hamlet's ghost tells him who killed him in a dream, but Cooper doesn't remember. He befriends Horatio and tells him that in order to understand the death of the king, it is crucial for them to study an old Icelanic poem about a man who feigns madness, because the answer to the mystery lies somewhere within. Horatio doesn't totally get it, but he figures Cooper must know what he's doing and goes along with it. When everyone is gathered to watch a production of The Murder of Gonzago, Cooper first steps up onto the stage, guided by a spirit in the form of a snake wearing a crown, to announce that King Claudius killed his brother. Prince Hamlet immediately stabs his uncle. Determining whether Hamlet should suffer consequences or just become king is not Cooper's department.

Philip Marlowe: All I know is, most of this mystery involves him getting thrown off the palace grounds repeatedly and being told that a bum like him better keep away from King Claudius if he knows what's good for him. If he ever gets out of Denmark alive, Marlowe thinks to himself, he's never leaving LA during the winter ever again.

Sam Vimes: Vimes can actually interview the ghost, but that doesn't mean the case is closed. He's not worried about the ghost actually being a deceitful fiend, he just thinks there's a possibility he's wrong. After all, if Vimes was poisoned and his ghost found out some creepy relative immediately married his wife and took his job, he would also jump to conclusions! He spends a lot of time yelling at royal people and getting threatened with execution (Vimes doesn't know how his job ended up involving so many clashes with royalty, but so it goes), and is disrespectful of religion enough to spy on Claudius while he's having his remorseful confession. He can't arrest him, but he spreads the word around, and as the royal court dissolves into backstabbing and finger-pointing, Vetinari walks in with a full retinue (and more importantly, a list of all the debts Denmark owes to Ankh-Morpork) to evaluate the situation and congratulate Claudius on his "excellent decision" to abdicate. Claudius later dies of a totally natural snake bite in his ear.

Columbo:

Your Majesty, King Claudius, forgive My clumsy common nature. I am not A noble gentleman, nor do I live With such great honor as yourself- a thought, However, troubles me this night. For how Should some strange serpent come to bite a king? And why within his ear? It puzzles! Now, I beg that I may ask just one more thing…

[guzhufuren]

Short breakdown of 19 QLs from GMMTV 2025 lineup

trailers: playlist link

Dare you to death

joongdunk investigating crime and murders

Head 2 Head

keensea cursing each other out as Bad Buddy 2.0 but they are rich, in fashion school and one of them magically saw visions of their shared future

Burnout Syndrome

dewoffgun in a love triangle (or poly please). Dew is a fortune teller who reads Gun's future from his palm. Gun becomes a hired double for Off because Off doesn't want to go to meetings himself. Gun is an artist and draws Off in nude lots. dewoffgun as a messy love triangle of weird coworkers

Whale Store xoxo

milklove as a depressed grocery store keeper and her flirty regular customer who is a teacher and a repairgirl. side couple exes who get back together junemewnich

Only Friends Dream On

spinoff of Only Friends. jossgawin, earthmix and ohmleng are in a messy love hexagon on a theatre play set because all of them want someone who wants someone else in that 6 angled shape. Boston is back and hopefully here to fuck all of them. Earth as director, Mix as actor, Ohm as musician, Leng as actor, Joss as actor, Gawin as costume designer, Neo as Boston the play's photographer

That Summer

winnysatang: after being found guilty of a crime Winny gets sent to the countryside and finds unconscious Satang being washed ashore. Satang has amnesia and later turns out to be a prince. side couple Mond and Ryu

My Romance Scammer

ohmfluke and juniormark in a gay marriage scam show. two brothers Junior and Ohm make two high standing men Mark and Fluke fall in love with them in order to deceive them, marry them in 1 month and get their money. after rich dudes' lawyer tells them the divorce will cost them losing half of their assets if scammers don't sign special asset-saving divorce papers, it becomes a battle of who will outwit the other and which one will fall in love

Melody of Secrets

forcebook in a mystical horror with gore. Force is a criminologist assisting the police with murders, Book is his ex suffering from memory loss and no remembrance of who Force is. Jan as the sheriff and Boun is also there

Love you teacher

perthsanta as established boyfriends. Perth is very bad at being a primary school teacher and only works as one because his boyfriend Santa is a teacher too and is very good at it. Santa gets into an accident which causes him part time amnesia and reverts him back to a state of his 7 year old self half of the time. Perth has to regularly deal with taking care of a 7 year old (man)child which was his most hated thing to do

MU-TE-LUV

7 love stories about fortune. keensea as high school rivals who are destined to fall in love. queer group of kathoey friends played by Fluke, Neo, Yacht and Lego are serving looks around their high school and decide they also want to meet men so they make prayers to a mother's spirit about sending them some. ohmpleng as rival buddhist temple gangs' enemies to lovers. and some hets

Cat for Cash

firstkhao in a cat cafe bl. First is a debt collector and gets a power of talking to cats from a debtee who dies during his visit. when the deceased debtee's son Khaotung comes to sell the shop, First convinces him to keep the business running and become business partners. they fall in love in the process with their laps full of cats

Girl Rules

messy dykes and lesbian wrongs the series. girl version of Only Friends with namtanfilm, milklove and viewmim. Namtan is a director, Love is her coworker stylist and they have a one night stand. Film is Namtan's ex. Milk is a model and pursues Film and Love. Milk isn't Love's type. View claims to be straight but Mim seems to be set on breaking her egg. it's horny, messy and blissfully gay

Boys in love

all fresh faces in the sweetest most precious high school bl ever written. a top marks student has to tutor a zero braincell student who falls for him immediately and flirts relentlessly. a different loverboy who just got rejected falls in love at first sight with a dimply cute new student. papangpodd as teachers who are shipped by everyone at that school

My Magic Prophecy

jimmysea falling in love in countryside while danger is looming over them. Sea can see the future and starts having visions of his friend's older brother Jimmy. Jimmy is an ER doctor who gets targeted by someone and has to quickly disappear and lay low for some time. Sea brings him to countryside and they gradually fall in love. side couple franctee

A Dog and A Plane

taynew in a deeply silly crack bl. Tay's friends get in trouble and he offers New to make it up to him himself instead. New asks him to find out if his flight captain boyfriend is cheating. he is, but he pays Tay off to keep it quiet and shenanigans proceed. Marc accuses the side piece flight attendant Poon of being an asshole. all branded couples fall in love

Me and Thee

pondphuwin in a mafia-ish bl. shady billionaire/mafia Pond who was raised on corny mafia soap operas pursues model Santa, but photographer Phuwin gives him a piece of mind regarding manners and consent, so Pond asks him to teach him how to pursue Santa correctly. Santa's not-boyfriend Perth is upset. Pond learns more about Phuwin, falls in love and starts an extravagant pursuit. Est is very handsome as a bodyguard butler

Wu

nanisky bl or a bromance that surely looks like a bl. a fortune teller Sky offers a failed athlete Nani to be his assistant. their meeting was predestined and they have a string of fate tying them together

Memoir of Rati

greatinn period bl. Great and Inn meet while watching the same street play in early 20th century. Inn works as a translator for a westerner and a teacher of french for thai bureaucrats. Great is a noble who sweetly romances Inn, but the familial expectations come into the picture. aouboom side couple where servant Boom secretly beats his master Aou in an underground fight

Ticket To Heaven

geminifourth bl by P'Aof set in 1996. young protege of a pastor Fourth and a defiant boy who lost his faith Gemini. Gemini moves into the seminary area to be guided back on the right path after his mother went to jail. young love, repression, homophobia, catholic guilt, and the love defying everything

[revelboo]

U h, so like, I may or may not have gotten absolutely hooked on your blog 👉👈 I absolutely adore your fics with the Seeker Trine, I don’t see much of them out there so when I stumbled upon your little series, it got me good. I am super invested in each of the stories and I really, really like the way you right!! Looking forward to more :3

Thank you!

True Romance Pt 5

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Wings flaring out tiredly to stretch out the kinks, Starscream pauses in the door to the communal habsuite he shares with his trine before closing the door behind him, sprawled on his back with his head hanging off the edge of his berth Skywarp glances at him, jaw clenching, then his attention is back on the human laying against his chassis, his servos sliding along your back. Across the room, Thundercracker is fiddling with the communication screen, so engrossed in his project that he’s not even noticed his entrance. “What is this?”

• Startling, Thundercracker offers Starscream a sheepish smile. “Movie night? I’ve been watching some of their media and it’s pretty interesting,” he says, inclining his head toward you sleeping on Skywarp. And he waits for Starscream to tell him he’s too busy, because he always does that. Knows his brother is the SIC and stays buried under reports and requests, but he just wants them all together like it had been before the war. Before the Decepticons. At least for a little bit. The ‘no’ doesn’t come though as Starscream drifts closer to Skywarp, attention on you.

• “They were cold again,” Skywarp growls, annoyed at being caught tending to you when he shouldn’t care less. But he likes the warmth of you there against him, the softness that should be off putting to him. Your little cheek is against him, knuckles against his canopy. Trusting him enough to rest under his watch and he’s not sure what to make of that or why it spreads warm through his spark.

• “Always,” Starscream vents softly, reaching to pick you up. Noting the way Skywarp tenses, but doesn’t try to stop him even when you make a pitiful sleepy sound of protest until he cradles you to him. Head lifting to look up at him, seeing who has you, and immediately relaxing again. And he can’t understand this trust of yours. That you just accept this and them instead of raging to be freed.

• Feeling that thrum in your bones when Starscream cups you to him, you know you should be trying to escape. But there’s almost always at least one of them watching over you. They’re not your friends by any means, but as he runs a servo against you, you’re not sure they’re your enemies either. Know it’s just Stockholm’s ringing your bell, because they’re always fussing over you, bringing you things, food, whatever they think you might like. Trying to keep you happy when they don’t have to. You’re still a prisoner, but it’s harder and harder to see the bars of your cage every day, they just keep blurring with every gentle touch. They’ll get bored of you eventually and let you go. And you’re not sure how you feel about that. “Everything okay?”

• Sitting on his berth, Starscream looks down at you. Seeing you watching him in return. Always asking them about their day. Trying to collect intel on them to pass along to your government in case you manage to escape? That must be it, but he still finds himself telling you. And you just lay your cheek on his servo and listen, asking questions and agreeing with him. Like you might really care. Hating that he wants to believe that, because something is very wrong with him.

Previous

[chancloud8]

To The Rescue

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Word Count: 1,3k Tags: Fluff, Cuddling, Established Relationship. Summary: Early mornings are for rescuing your boyfriend and his roommates from a tiny uninvited visitor. *************************************************************

The sky is still pitch black when you jog down the stairs of your dorm. Most of the students on campus are still asleep and you don't blame them. If it wasn't for you boyfriend calling you up in a blind panic, you would still be under your pile of blankets as well.

Your boots make the leaves under your feet crunch and you smile, breathing in the crisp morning air. You love this time of year, when the trees change color and the air gets colder. If only Autumn wasn't so dark and rainy, you'd love it even more.

When you arrive at the dorm your boyfriend shares with three of his friends, you only have to knock once before the door is wrenched open.

'Thank god,' Felix pants and he grabs your arm to pull you inside.

You chuckle and follow him into the living area where the other two are gathered as well, standing on the sofa and screeching like the house is on fire.

'Y/N! It's over there!' Jisung screams, waving his arm in the direction of the curtains.

'Shouldn't we call animal control? I'm not sure if it's safe for Y/N to touch it,' Changbin says from behind Jising, his hands clutching his friend's hoodie like it will protect him.

'Don't be so dramatic, babe,' you grin at your boyfriend. 'Why don't you come give me a kiss?'

Changbin's eyes grow wide. 'While the beast is still out there?'

'Yeah,' you nod. 'You love me, right? Am I not worthy enough for you to overcome you fear of a itty bitty-'

You get interrupted by Jisung screaming loudly again. 'IT MOVED!!'

'Oh my god,' Felix mutters beside you, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 'Y/N can you just please help me catch this stupid mouse so I can go back to sleep.'

You nod and inch closer to the curtains where the boys say they last saw the animal. You move slowly and careful, keeping your eyes trained on the dark brown fabric to watch out for any movement.

'Go for the tail if you can,' you say to Felix. 'It's easier to grab them there, but make sure to move it to your hands soon after so you won't hurt it.'

Felix shivers, but nods and inches towards the other side of the curtains.

'Babe, I'm really not sure you should touch it,' Changbin whines. 'What if it bites you?'

You ignore him and slowly get down to your knees so you'll have better access to the small animal if it decides to run your way.

Felix pokes the curtains at his side and almost immediately you hear the sound of running paws. Without thinking you stretch out your hands and latch onto the tiny body as it races out from under the curtains.

Jisnung screams again, Changbin yells your name and Felix cheers.

The mouse wriggles in your hands nervously, its tiny wet nose budging against your skin as it tries to escape.

'Ssshh, it's okay. I got you,' you whisper, hoping that like any other animal, it might calm it down a bit.

'DID IT BITE?' Changbin yells, still standing on the couch behind Jisung.

You shake your head and get up from the floor. The mouse trembles in your hands, but it doesn't try to hurt you.

'Binnie, darling, why don't you come off of the couch,' you try to convince your boyfriend again, smiling sweetly at him. 'The mouse won't hurt you, it's more scared of you than you of him.'

Changbin and Jisung both glare at you and stay right where they are. You roll your eyes at them. You're so going to tell this story to the rest of your friends over breakfast.

Felix opens the door to their tiny garden so you can set the mouse free. He grabs his phone and opens his camera to film your hand.

'Let's see what monster had the guys so afraid,' he chuckles.

You laugh too and slowly open your hands. The mouse's nose appears first and when it lifts its little head and looks at you and Felix with its tiny black eyes, you can't help but coo at it.

'It's so cute,' you giggle. 'I don't know what they were so afraid of.'

Felix still looks a bit wary, but you can see in his eyes that he thinks the tiny animal is not as scary up close as he might have thought.

'Babe, come inside, it's freezing,' Changbin yells from inside.

You take one last look at the mouse before kneeling on the grass to set it down.

'Be free, my friend. And don't come back,' you whisper as the mouse quickly runs into the bushes.

Felix laughs and helps you up. 'I swear you could make any animal your friend.'

Hell yes you could.

'I think I already proved that when I befriended you guys,' you tease as you step back into the living room.

Changbin and Jisung immediately tackle you in a hug.

'Thank you, thank you, thank you!' Changbin whispers against your neck.

'You're my hero,' Jisung cheers, hugging your back.

You laugh and curl your arms around Changbin's waist. Enjoying the warmth that is radiating from his body.

'You're welcome boys.' 

Jisung lets go of you in favor of collapsing on the couch, but Changbin keeps you close to his body. His hands move to you back to hold you even tighter and you snuggle your face in his soft hoodie. 

'Hey,' you whisper into the fabric. 

'Hey,' he whispers back, pressing a kiss on top of your hair. 'I missed you.' 

You giggle and tighten your arms around his waist. 'You just saw me like six hours ago.' 

'Well, you could have just stayed with me,' Changbin replies. 'It would have saved you the trouble of running through the cold at five am.' 

He has a good point, but you aren’t going to admit that. You spend a lot of time at his dorm already, practically living here anyways. 

'Where's Seungmin?' You ask, changing the subject as you slowly pull back from your boyfriend's chest. 'I expected him to be hiding out on the couch with you and sungie. Did he sleep through it?' 

Changbin laughs and pulls you with him to his room, the one he shares with Seungmin. 'No, I think he stayed with the others. He and Minho were studying together last night.' 

'So we have your room to ourselves?' you wiggle your eyebrows. 'Such luxury.' 

The both of you climb into Changbin's bed and he drapes the covers over both of you before pulling you against his body. You cuddle against his chest and intertwine your legs with his while he wraps his strong arms around you. 

'I definitely wish I could sleep like this every night,' you whisper happily, once again snuggling into the soft fabric of Changbin's sweater. 

'You could, you know,' Changbin says. 'The guys don't mind having you here. They love you.' 

'Hmm, they just love me for my ability to catch whatever animal crawls into your dorm,' you joke. 

'That's not true, they love you for way more than that.' You don't even have to look at your boyfriend to know that he's pouting. 'And so do I.' 

'I know, babe,' you reassure him, lifting your head so you can kiss his chin. 'And I love them.' 

'What about me?' 

'Hmm,' you hum, pretending to think hard and Changbin lets out a fake enraged breath before he tickles your sides. You squeal loudly and bat his hand away. 

'I love you the most, silly,' you giggle, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can drape yourself over his chest and look at him. 

'More than chocolate?' Changbin grins, his eyes twinkling. 'Puppy's? Draco Malfoy?' 

You reach up to touch his cheek. 'I love you more than anything, Binnie.' *********************************************** a/n: soft binnie my beloved <3 I saw a post the other day that the world needs more Bin fluff fics and I agreed, so here we are hehe xxx

[strnilolover]

Player!Chris can’t get enough of Ditsy!Reader …

The water streams down, warm and comforting, a cocoon of safety enveloping you and Chris. Steam fills the small bathroom, swirling around you as droplets cascade down your skin. Chris stands close, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, and his blue eyes are soft as they meet yours. The corners of his mouth lift in a quiet, adoring smile as his hands rest gently on your shoulders.

Chris was just supposed to be over to hang out, but suggested on a shower together which at first you were hesitant to — but agreed to in the end.

“Turn around for me,” he murmurs. You oblige, turning to face the water as his hands move to your back. His touch is light at first, his palms pressing gentle circles into your skin as the spray of water washes over both of you.

“You’re tense,” he comments softly, leaning forward so his lips brush your ear. “Let me help.”

His hands knead your shoulders, gliding down your arms, his thumbs brushing the curves of your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished. There’s no urgency, no rush, just Chris taking his time, his touch more about grounding you than anything else. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, his lips soft and lingering, sending a shiver down your spine despite the warmth of the water.

“Better?” he asks, his voice barely audible over the sound of the shower.

You nod, leaning back slightly into his chest, and his arms instinctively wrap around your waist, holding you securely. He turns you back around to face him, his hands staying on your hips as he studies your face with an intensity that makes your cheeks heat. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone, his gaze dropping to your lips.

“You’re beautiful angel,” he says softly, his words sincere and unguarded. Before you can respond, his lips capture yours in a slow kiss. He takes his time, his mouth moving against yours softly. His hands stay firm on your waist, steadying you as he pulls you closer.

The water runs cooler, breaking the moment, and Chris chuckles quietly. “We should get out before we freeze,” he says, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you with careful hands. He presses a final kiss to your temple, his lips warm against your damp skin. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s get comfortable.”

-

After getting out of the shower you both got dressed. Chris in a pair of black sweat pants without his shirt and you in a plain white t-shirt with some cute shorts.

You had both made your way to the couch. The room quiet, the low hum of the heater filling the silence. Your legs are tucked underneath you, but you’re hyper-aware of the way Chris’ thigh presses against yours. He’s stretched out casually, his arm resting along the back of the couch like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but the way his fingers occasionally brush your shoulder tells a different story.

“So,” Chris starts, a sly grin spreading across his face as he turns to look at you, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You gonna keep staring angel?”

Your cheeks flush immediately, and you shake your head, trying to look anywhere but at him. “I wasn’t staring,” you mumble, though your voice is anything but convincing. Chris chuckles, the sound low and teasing, as he leans in closer. “Uh-huh,” he murmurs, his voice dropping. “Sure you weren’t.”

Before you can come up with a retort, his hand moves to your knee, his thumb brushing slow circles against your skin. The touch is casual — almost innocent — but the heat in his eyes says otherwise. He leans in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Come here,” he says softly.

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest, but when he takes your hand and pulls you onto his lap, you don’t resist. Your knees settle on either side of his thighs, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders for balance. His grin widens as he looks up at you, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you steady.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the teasing edge in his voice making your cheeks burn. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Chris,” you start, your voice trembling slightly, but he doesn’t give you a chance to finish. His lips crash against yours, the kiss hot and demanding, and your thoughts scatter instantly. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours with practiced ease.

His kiss is everything — confident, skilled, and utterly overwhelming. His tongue brushes against yours, teasing and coaxing, and when you let out a soft whimper, he groans low in his throat. His hands roam your back, one slipping beneath your shirt to press against your bare skin, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“You taste so sweet,” Chris mutters against your lips, his voice rough. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. When he sucks gently, his tongue soothing the spot, you gasp softly, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Chris, wait—” you start, but he pulls back slightly, his blue eyes locking onto yours. His expression softens for a moment, and he tilts his head, his cocky grin replaced by something almost genuine. “You okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now, but there’s still a teasing glint in his eyes. “You can tell me to stop, you know.”

You shake your head quickly, your fingers clutching at his shirt. “No, I don’t want you to stop,” you squeak, your voice barely above a whisper. His grin returns, wider this time, and he presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs before pulling you back into another heated kiss.

This time, his hands guide your hips against his, creating a delicious friction that makes your breath hitch. His grip tightens, and the low groan he lets out when you move against him sends a thrill through you. “You’re killing me, angel,” he mutters, his lips returning to your neck. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

You squirm slightly in his lap, trying to ease the ache building inside you, and his reaction is immediate. His hands move to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he chuckles darkly against your neck. “Careful,” he warns, though his tone is more amused than serious.

You glance down at him, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing. But, you decided to defy his word — shifting your hips against his growing bulge that you could feel poking you. The awareness of it made you want to move more..it felt so — good.

Chris freezes for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grin turns wicked. “Oh, you’re trouble, aren’t you?” he says, his hands sliding up your thighs as he shifts beneath you. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it…”

Before you can process his words, he shifts you in his lap, turning you around so your back is pressed to his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you firmly in place as his lips find the curve of your shoulder. His teeth graze your skin again, his tongue following to soothe the spot as one of his hands slides up your side beneath your shirt.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as his fingers trace slow, teasing patterns along your ribs. “So sweet, so perfect…” His other hand rests on your thigh, his thumb brushing circles into your skin as he presses another kiss to your shoulder.

“Chris,” you whisper, your voice trembling as his touch grew bolder.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “I’ve got you, angel. Just let me take care of you.” he groaned against your skin.

You just whined, nodding your head and his hands shifted. One of them grabbing and digging into the flesh of your hip to keep you from moving too much — the other slowly inching to your inner thigh, pulling your legs apart.

You allow your legs fell open on either side of his own. His lips continuing to press kisses along your shoulder and neck, “Tell me to stop..” he whispered, letting his teeth nip you. You gasped, trying to push your hips down against him more.

Chris hissed, taking your reaction as a means to continue. So with a slow hand, he inched it closer, fingertips ghosting against the edge of your sleep shorts before slipping under and finding your clothes clit through your panties.

Chris chuckled as he pushed against the bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from your lips. He could feel the wet patch under his fingers. “y’already so wet angel — fuuuck..” he said. His chin now resting on your shoulder as he watched his hand move beneath your shorts. Your own head tipped back to rest against his shoulder, eyes closed as your breaths came in pants.

In one swift motion, he slipped his fingers under the fabric of your underwear — trailing his middle finger along your wetness. He grunted as your hips shifted again, moving down to try and grind yourself against the digit. His grip on your hip tightened as he tsked. “Hold still baby.. i’ll give ya what y’want don’t worry.” he muttered before slipping the digit into your warm walls.

Your back arched, bowing away from his chest as one of your hands gripped at his arm — a small crying escaping your swollen plump lips. Chris chuckled, slowly moving his finger as he encouraged you to lay back against his chest once more. The pace he set was agonizing, you wanted more..needed more.

“C-chris please-“ your words were cut off as he curled his fingers up, hitting that spongy spot just right. You gasped, the sound tampering off into a high pitched moan as your walls squeezed around his finger. Chris hummed, tilting his head and smirking against your skin as his eyes still stayed trained on where his hand disappeared.

“Feel good angel?” he asked, slowly retreating his finger before slipping two digits back in once more. “Mhm!” was all you got out as he curled his fingers again. It was slow — so slow. “Pl-please chris… faster.” you whined, grinding your hips down once more despite his grip on you.

You really could t stay still.

Chris sighed, shifting his hips up in a slow grind against your ass. “Yeah..yeah, i know baby shh.” he cooed, his fingers now picking up speed at your request.

The speed change made you sigh, but it quickly turned into little gasps and moans as his fingers continued to curl up. Your head tipped back again, resting on his shoulder as your face turned to his. You panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your legs tried to close around his hand. The hand on your hip left, coming up to grip your jaw as Chris turned his face to yours.

He grinned before smashing your lips together — it was all teeth and tongue, heated and desperate. His fingers never slowed their pace, abusing your poor hole. “C’mon pretty, keep ‘em open f’me yeah?” he muttered against your lips. And you obliged the best you could, keeping them open even as they threatened to close every so often.

Chris’ movements against your ass didn’t slow, feeling himself getting close to his own release. He moaned into the kiss, his fingers pushing a little deeper, causing you to squeak against his lips. You pulled away from the kiss, taking a few deep breaths — and Chris watched you. Your flushed and fucked out expression and swollen lips were absolutely beautiful to him

But before long, you were already leaning back forward, capturing his lips in another searing kiss. He could feel your walls clenching around his fingers rapidly, your moans growing higher in pitch as you tried to keep your lips against his.

“y’gonna cum angel? gonna make a mess all over my fingers, hm?” he mumbled against your lips, and you nodded. The knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter with each thrust of his digits.

With a few more thrusts of his fingers, the knot came undone — the waves of pleasure washing through you so suddenly. You pulled away from his lips, throwing your head back as your back arched — releasing all over his fingers.

“yeahh that’s it baby, fuuck.” he gritted out, his hips stopping their grinding as he spilled into his boxers. Your own hips moving down on his fingers as he slowed them, riding out your high.

Chris stopped his fingers once you whined at the overstimulated feeling, and he slowly retreated his hand, moving your panties back into their rightful place. He brought his hand up, digits glistening with your release and brought them to his lips.

Your eyes widened as you watched him suck them clean, releasing them with a soft ‘pop’ before turning his gaze to you. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your puffy lips. You could taste yourself.

Chris leaned back. “y’feeling okay angel?” he asked, shifting you around until you were laying more comfortably in his lap. And you nodded, humming softly as you stared up at him.

“I think..we may need another shower.” you admit. Chris laughed, “yeah — yeah i think we do. here c’mon.” he said, gently shifting you onto the couch as he stood up, leaning down to scooping you into his arms before walking off toward your shower — again.

© strnilolover

[latenightreadingpdf]

Jealousy - Sirius Black

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When Y/N excitedly announces her first date with Amos Diggory, Sirius Black’s jealousy quickly gets the better of him.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with its usual chaos. The Marauders lounged on their favorite couch, trading jokes and stories, while Lily Evans and her group of friends sat by the fire, discussing the latest gossip. The evening was comfortably familiar—until the door burst open.

You came running in, breathless and wide-eyed, as if you had just sprinted across the entire castle.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked, concern knitting her brows.

But your beaming smile quickly dispelled any worry. "Nothing's wrong!" you said, your voice practically trembling with excitement. "I just had to tell you all—Amos Diggory asked me out!"

Gasps and squeals erupted from the girls. They immediately crowded around you, peppering you with questions.

“When?” “Where?” “What did he say?” “What are you going to wear?”

You laughed, flustered but enjoying the attention. "He asked me after Potions today. We're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow night!"

The boys exchanged confused glances. James, ever the spokesperson, called out, “Hold on, hold on—Amos Diggory? Since when do you fancy anyone?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Since he’s nice, smart, and, you know... handsome," you admitted.

James nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Fair enough.”

“Good for you,” Remus added warmly.

Peter gave you a thumbs-up. "Amos is decent."

Sirius, however, leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed in a frown. "Amos Diggory? Really? Of all people, him?"

Your smile faltered. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you could do a lot better,” Sirius said, his tone sharp. “He’s... dull. And too nice. Suspiciously nice.”

"Sirius!" Lily snapped, glaring at him.

Mary chimed in indignantly, “Amos Diggory is the dream guy. He’s polite, smart, and incredibly handsome.”

The other girls nodded in agreement, giggling again as they tugged you toward the staircase to the girls’ dorms. "Come on, we have to pick out your outfit!"

You cast a hesitant glance back at Sirius, but his stormy expression didn’t change. Shrugging it off, you let the girls drag you away.

The room fell quiet as the boys stared at Sirius.

“What?” Sirius grumbled, leaning back in his seat.

Remus slapped his arm. “Ow!” Sirius yelped, rubbing the spot.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For being an arse,” Remus said, whisper-yelling. “Why would you say that to her? She looked so happy!”

Sirius scowled. "I just think there’s something off about him."

“Rubbish,” James shot back. “You didn’t have to be so mean about it, though.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, mate. You kind of ruined the moment.”

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I’ll apologize tomorrow.”

“Good,” Remus said firmly. “But not just because we’re telling you to. You’re jealous.”

Sirius’ head snapped toward him. “I am not!”

James snorted. “You’re jealous.”

Peter grinned. “Definitely jealous.”

Sirius groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “I hate all of you.”

“Not as much as you hate Amos Diggory,” James quipped, dodging the pillow Sirius threw at him.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The next day was a whirlwind of excitement. After hours of trying on different outfits with the girls, you finally settled on one that everyone agreed made you look stunning. Their compliments gave you a confidence boost as you descended the staircase to the common room.

Amos was waiting for you, looking polished yet approachable in his casual Hogsmeade attire. His smile widened as he saw you.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice warm.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Thank you. You look nice too.”

He extended his arm. “Shall we?”

With a shy smile, you took his arm, and the two of you headed off toward Hogsmeade.

The Three Broomsticks was lively but not too crowded, the perfect spot for a cozy first date. Over butterbeers, you and Amos chatted easily, laughter punctuating your conversation. He was charming and surprisingly funny, keeping you giggling throughout.

What you didn’t realize was that someone else had spotted you from outside the pub.

Sirius Black, with the rest of the Marauders in tow, was in Hogsmeade to stock up on their usual supplies: prank items and enough sweets to fuel their mischief. While the others were distracted by Zonko’s display, Sirius had spotted you through the window, laughing with Amos Diggory.

The sight made his stomach twist. “Come on,” Sirius said, feigning nonchalance. “Let’s get a butterbeer.”

James raised a brow. “Now? I thought we were going to Honeydukes next.”

“Just one,” Sirius insisted, already heading for the door.

The bell above the door chimed as the boys entered, and your laughter stopped abruptly. You glanced toward the door and spotted them. Your eyes narrowed, immediately honing in on Sirius.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you muttered under your breath.

Amos noticed your expression and turned to look. “Are those your friends?” he asked curiously.

You hesitated. “Not really. Give me a second.”

Sliding out of your chair, you made your way to the Marauders. Sirius’ face lit up with exaggerated surprise as you approached.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? Oh my gosh, are you on your date right now?”

You rolled your eyes, unamused. “Leave. Now.”

James and Remus exchanged guilty glances. “Sorry, Y/N,” James said quickly. “We didn’t know—”

Sirius interrupted, “I’m just here for a butterbeer! By the way, you look really lovely—”

“Out!” you snapped, glaring at him.

Peter tugged on Sirius’ sleeve. “Come on, mate. Let’s go.”

Grumbling under his breath, Sirius allowed himself to be dragged out. You turned back to Amos, forcing a smile.

“Sorry about that,” you said, sitting down.

Amos studied you for a moment. “Are you and Sirius... a thing?”

“Godric, no!” you said, horrified. “He’s just... a jerk.”

Amos tilted his head thoughtfully. “He likes you, you know.”

You frowned. “No, he doesn’t.”

“He does,” Amos insisted. “And I don’t want to get in the middle of that. But I’d like us to stay friends. I really enjoy hanging out with you.”

You tried to hide your disappointment and nodded. “Sure. Friends.”

Amos smiled gently and walked you back to the Gryffindor common room. Before leaving, he gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

When you stepped into the common room, all eyes turned to you.

“How’d it go?” James asked, grinning.

“Horrible,” you snapped, glaring pointedly at Sirius.

He raised his hands in defense. “I barely did anything!”

“Barely?” you repeated, incredulous. “Thanks to you, Amos thinks you like me, and now we’re just going to ‘stay friends’ because he doesn’t want to come between us!”

The room went silent. Sirius’ mouth opened, but no words came out.

“You what?” Lily hissed, rounding on Sirius.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m going to bed,” you said sharply, cutting him off. The girls immediately followed, throwing Sirius matching death glares as they escorted you upstairs.

Once you were gone, James shook his head. “You really messed up, mate.”

“I know,” Sirius muttered, guilt tugging at him. “I’ll fix it.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Later that night, a hesitant knock echoed at your dorm door. Lily answered, her sharp glare softening only slightly when she saw Sirius standing there, his usual confidence replaced with a sheepish, almost boyish look.

“She doesn’t want to see you, Sirius,” Lily said, crossing her arms.

“Please, Lily,” Sirius begged, his voice uncharacteristically earnest. “I just want to apologize. I feel awful about everything.”

Before Lily could shut the door in his face, your voice called from inside, soft but firm, “Let him in.”

Lily rolled her eyes but opened the door wider. “Fine. But if you make her cry again, I’ll hex you into next week.”

Sirius gave her a faint nod of understanding and stepped inside. The sight of you made his heart clench. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, hugging a pillow to your chest. Your cheeks were streaked with dried tears, your eyes red from crying.

“What do you want, Sirius?” you asked, your tone weary.

He stood awkwardly for a moment before kneeling down in front of you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of your favorite candies, placing them in your lap.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice unusually quiet. “For everything. I didn’t mean to ruin your date or make you cry. That was never my intention. I just...” He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words. “I screwed up. Big time.”

You stared down at the bag of sweets in your lap, your fingers brushing against the crinkling paper. “Why did you do it, Sirius?”

He sighed deeply, tilting his head back like he was searching for courage in the ceiling. Then, he looked at you, his gray eyes vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

“Because Amos was right,” he admitted softly. “I was jealous.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Jealous?”

He nodded, his voice shaking slightly. “I hated seeing you with him. I wanted to be the one sitting across from you, making you laugh. I wanted to be the one you were excited to see. The truth is... I like you, Y/N. A lot. And I have for ages. But I didn’t know how to tell you. I was scared. Scared that you’d laugh at me or that you wouldn’t feel the same.”

The room was thick with silence. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, his usual cocky demeanor completely gone, replaced with raw sincerity.

“I ruined it for you,” he continued, his voice breaking slightly. “And I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I needed you to know. Even if it doesn’t change anything, even if you hate me now.”

Sirius stood slowly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

He turned and began walking toward the door.

“Wait,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius froze mid-step. He turned back around, his expression unreadable, and found you standing just a few feet away. Your pillow had fallen to the floor, forgotten.

Before he could say anything, you stepped closer, rising onto your toes, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was quick and tentative, but enough to make Sirius’ breath hitch.

When you pulled back, you smiled faintly. “I like you too, you idiot.”

His eyes widened in surprise before a grin broke across his face—a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.

You nodded, your own smile growing. “Yeah.”

Without hesitation, Sirius reached out, cupping your face gently in his hands. His thumb brushed your cheek as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a deeper, more passionate kiss. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just the overwhelming warmth of finally crossing the line between friends and something so much more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Sirius rested his forehead against yours, his grin never fading.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then why didn’t you?” you teased lightly, your cheeks warm.

“Because I’m a coward,” he said with a chuckle. “But I promise I’ll make up for it.”

You laughed softly, and Sirius kissed you again, as if to prove his point.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ guys I’m running out of ideas, please feel free to send requests!!!

[galpalaven]

Felassan - Inquisition Companion + Romance Option

I blacked out after work and wrote this in a daze. Enjoy?

Felassan presents himself as a Dalish dreamer mage and friend of Solas, joining up with Solas from the very beginning after the Conclave. 

He is romanceable by any gender or race, unlike Solas who is still race-locked (but bisexual — because the main gripe between the two is the topic of modern elves and anyone else being “real”). I think it would be interesting to also have specific dialogue if you try to romance both at once — Felassan would urge Lavellan to be careful with Solas either way, though it turns more clearly yearning and sad if the player has also triggered the beginnings of his romance.

Since Felassan’s addition to the group would be an extra mage, I think to balance all that out Cullen should be able to be taken at least on some outings, and we could have an extra rogue as well (Harding would fit here, I think).

more under the cut

Personality

As a friend of Solas and his direct counter, it’s immediately noticeable that Felassan is much more friendly and playful. Notably, he enjoys chatting up a Dalish inquisitor about being Dalish, and answers questions companions have about the elves with far more enthusiasm than Solas. If the two are in the party together, he will actively tell people not to listen to Solas and poke fun at him for being rude. 

He gets along well with all of the other companions. Some who get along less well with Solas will comment on how they don’t know how he’s still friends with him when they are not in the party together. He gets along especially well with Sera, showing interest in her upbringing without making her feel condescended to the way Solas does. He particularly enjoys hearing about the Red Jennies and her efforts at helping to even the playing field for the underprivileged.

He gets along with Vivienne as well — I think it would be interesting for Vivienne to be vaguely familiar with him after he had been friends with Briala. I think it’s not a terrible idea for him to have still been involved there, too, as it could come in handy during Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts.

Story Influence

The main differences with Felassan’s presence would likely come into play mostly with things to do with the elves.

Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts

Felassan is one of the most useful companions in this quest. Knowing Briala personally makes it easier for the Inquisitor to convince Briala to either:

Get back together with Celene

Become the puppet behind Gaspard

Felassan knows his way partially around the palace and is able to direct the party slightly when looking for things needed to advance the quest. He is also friends with some of the servants, allowing them access to some of the servants’ tunnels in a pinch.

He makes cheeky, sarcastic comments about the nobility when asked. He’s better at not speaking about his past, so he doesn’t get shifty during the quest like Solas does. He’s happy to dance with the Inquisitor, enjoying the scandal it will cause, with maybe a special line with a Dalish Inquisitor. Rather than single them out and make them “special” compared to other Inquisitors, it’s mostly just on principle of relating to them as another elf, similar to dialogue that can be triggered with Bull about being Qunari (or Tal-Vashoth, in that case).

What Pride Had Wrought

Welcome Felassan as the 3rd option for the Well of Sorrows!

This is where he becomes a real player on the table. He will argue with Morrigan about the Dalish, correcting her outright in places. They never gave the Dalish Inquisitor a real chance to argue with her about things, or explain things themselves, so he has snarky commentary either correcting her or being surprised when she gets things somewhat right. There are also scenes where he will take up the explanation entirely.

Felassan being present also will give the player the correct answer to the rituals. He knows them, explains offhandedly that he’s been here before as an excuse, and makes it far easier for the player to ally with the Sentinels rather than fight them.

By the time they reach the Well, things are tense. 

Solas still fights with Morrigan and the Inquisitor both. If the Inquisitor brought him and Felassan both, he will immediately reject the idea when Felassan offers himself as an option. 

Romanced!Felassan wants to do this for you — he knows what will happen, he knows the weight of this decision, and he doesn’t want this for you. He will elaborate if asked that drinking from this well will bind you, not only to the memories within, but the will of Mythal. The Inquisitor can, at this point, shrug this off if they don’t believe in Mythal or that she is still alive to control them. If the Inquisitor still chooses to drink themself, he accepts this, but tells them that he will help them with any… side effects, should they arise.

Unromanced + High Approval!Felassan will say something similar — you are his friend and he wishes to keep you safe. He will elaborate similarly if asked with high approval.

Low Approval!Felassan offers himself as a Dalish authority, perhaps derisively suggesting that he is older and wiser than a Dalish inquisitor, and that this is his responsibility, not theirs.

Either way, Solas is NOT happy, but will ultimately accept the final decision.

Trespasser

We come upon the eve of the Betrayal of Felassan.

At low approval, Felassan will have left some time in between the end of the main story and Trespasser, seeking to follow in Solas’s footsteps and find him. Despite not having high approval, Felassan is still fundamentally opposed to Solas’s decision, and will be trying to track him down alone to stop him — something Solas has been running to avoid at every turn. He does not want to see Felassan — he does not want to kill his best friend.

High approval and/or romanced Felassan is present and there to help the whole way through. 

Romanced Felassan particularly will have a scene where he will quietly pull his love aside and ask if they trust him. If they say yes (or “You’re scaring me.”), he will tell them that this will sound crazy, but ask them to listen until the end before saying anything else. He will explain the story of the Dread Wolf as he knows it — the rebellion, the Evanuris, the vallaslin, all of it — and then, at the end, explain that he knows this because he lived it. He tells the story of the slow arrow and the Dread Wolf (a Dalish inquisitor can recognize it midway and will interrupt with surprise) and explains that he was there. That he has known Solas for thousands of years, that he has walked this land for thousands of years.

He will also explain that he knows what Solas wants and that he must stop him — that they must stop him. Solas wants to fix what he thinks he broke, but the people alive today do not deserve the fate he would have of them.

And Felassan is willing to do whatever it takes to stop him.

High approval Felassan will explain in much less detail via commentary while discovering the murals in the Crossroads, leading up to eventually finding Solas.

Once Solas has been found, Felassan runs ahead of the group, disregarding calls for him to stop. The Inquisitor is left one man down as they chase after him until, finally, they reach the place where Solas waits — and they find Felassan in Solas’s arms, a knife through his ribs.

Felassan will be stabbed by Solas regardless of Felassan’s approval with the Inquisitor. However, depending on choices made during either Solas or Felassans personal quests, and maybe Solas’s level of approval with the Inquisitor, Felassan can die.

The Inquisitor who loves him or is his friend will rush forward as Solas stumbles back, catching Felassan and holding their hand over the wound, careful not to move the dagger. Between the blood and the Inquisitor’s mark consuming their other arm, they are a sad sight.

Solas apologizes, but states that it was necessary. He would only get in the way. The questioning continues as normal here, up to Solas taking the Anchor.

Romance

I’m not entirely sure how this would go yet. I think he’s playful and flirtatious if the Inquisitor starts it. He will throw out Dalish phrases sometimes “for privacy,” with a Dalish inquisitor, which comes with a very obvious, if not always visible, wink. 

His quests do focus around his identity as an elf, and around preserving elven history, whether the Inquisitor is Dalish or not. While this kind of happens with Solas, a lot of his dialogue is about how wrong the Dalish are — Felassan provides a different, more loving perspective on the modern elves compared to the ancients.

I think a love triangle route between him and Solas would be SO juicy. He wants his friend to be happy, but he knows that Solas does not believe that the elves are full people, and is concerned for the Inquisitor because of this. I think even if the Inquisitor locks in Solas, if the flirts were triggered with Felassan, you CAN actually come back to his romance after Solas dumps you (which, especially if they let him remove the tattoos, can hurt both you and him). I think it unlocking a special scene where he says that yes, he knew what they were and yes, he chose to keep his because he wanted them, would be sweet (and relatable if you chose to kEEP the vallaslin).

Overall, I think his romance would be sweet and fun. A direct counter to Solas and Sera, two elves who hate other elves. Felassan is proud of being an elf, he is proud of the resiliency of both the Dalish and city elves. He’s interested in every part of the world, including the dwarves, Qunari, and humans.

It's been a very long time since I played DAI so please forgive any inconsistencies. I just needed to write something down after work lol. tagging people who showed interest earlier! @lammstrellicon @swoleas @isayashai @witchofthewakingsea @ash-soka

[soapieanxiety]

Historical Iceland Ramble: Part 1 - Early Childhood

We’re actually pretty lucky to get a good look at Icelands very early childhood. Not only do we see him immediately after he was “born” but we also see more of his childhood from before Norway showed up in his life.

Interesting things I immediately notice:

- While Norway physically wasn’t there in his life his connection to Iceland is still important even before the two met

- Iceland doesn’t know that he’s a representation but he does know that he’s not human

- Iceland's loneliness is something he’s dealt with literally since he was born. He’s literally Dr. Doofenshmirtz levels of loneliness. I am not joking he’s extremely lonely.

- His hot and cold side is immediately established in these manga panels. Iceland is someone with a lot of internal fire however externally he appears to be the opposite. Sometimes people only portray one side of his personality and ignore the other, but if you truly want to understand Iceland you have to understand that there are two sides to him. They may seem contradictory but in reality both sides merge together and create Iceland. It cannot be ignored

These panels right here tell us directly that there is more to Iceland than what meets the eye. We’ve been told this in character notes, but in the actual content of Hetalia, we are shown it here. We’re shown it constantly, but this is the most in-your-face example I’ve seen. Iceland is directly getting upset at people judging him just based off first impressions. This shows us that not portraying him with these two sides is doing his character a disservice.

In some stories, I see that people make it that Norway found Iceland pretty quickly after his “birth." However I believe that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m gonna get more into timeline in the next paragraph, but the panel with Iceland contemplating if he has a brother takes place at a minimum 130 years after his “birth." Want proof? These are the next two panels that happen immediately after

It’s believed that civilization on Iceland started at around 870 AD, and it looks like that’s the date Hima went with. It’s the date I’m going to go with as well. Christianity came to Iceland at around the year 999 or 1000 AD, meaning Iceland met the God (/j but y’know what I mean) before he met his brother, the other Nordics, or Mr. Puffin. Now I can see someone arguing that maybe he’s met Mr. Puffin already; however, I believe that if he had, Mr. Puffin would be somewhere in these panels. He’s always with Iceland, and if he’s not, it’s a logical assumption to make that he just hasn’t met the bird yet.

Iceland makes a new friend! Despite the mental breakdown, I do believe meeting Mr. Puffin was an all-around positive in Iceland's life. We see them together constantly after-this, and Iceland finally gets his much needed social interaction. Even if it’s from a bird. He’s still suffering from extreme loneliness, which will affect him for the rest of his life. But it’s a good thing he has Mr. Puffin now, who does teach him a bit about the outside world.

I’d also like to note that Iceland, who knows he has a brother, believes that he’s the only island to exist and that the rest of the world is just ocean. That’s how much he’s suffering from loneliness. I can’t really pinpoint a year these panels take place but I’m fairly confident they take place after 1000, which, as stated earlier, is over 100 years after Iceland was “born.”

These are the last manga panels I’d like to go over and the ones I find the most interesting, in my opinion.

We see more of Iceland and Mr. Puffins time together in Iceland's early childhood. Mr. Puffin tells Iceland about the outside world, which Iceland doesn’t believe. I think this is probably just the loneliness getting to him. What I find really interesting in this panel is that it confirms that Norway knows Iceland exists. Now I love Norway, I’m a firm believer that he’s doing his best as a brother. But this is probably his biggest brother fumble, in my opinion. As an older sibling myself, I can understand being busy with your own life. Norway is obviously busy in this panel, but at this point, Iceland has existed for over 100 years now, and he still hasn’t gone to see him. Being busy for that long just isn’t an excuse. Now I guess I can see a point that maybe this was the first time he realized he had a little brother. However, I believe that this isn’t the first time. Iceland’s “birth” scene has a blacked-out silhouette of Norway and his voice. Now we don’t know what Norway said, but this is implying to me that Norway knows Iceland exists.

Bottom line: Iceland's loneliness in his early childhood was avoidable. Norway could’ve shown up way earlier, but he didn’t. I’m not going to bash him that much for it, but this heavily affects Iceland. I can understand that Norway was most likely a teenager at this time who was focused on being a Viking and fighting other people. However, the negative impacts of this weigh heavy, and Norway’s nosy and overbearing behavior is probably him trying to compensate for not being there for Iceland during this time in his life.

Anyways, thank you for reading Part 1 of this historical Iceland analysis. Part 2 will cover a broader history. I feel like the reason this part was so long is simply because we have so much content of Iceland’s early life. If Part 3 is needed (honestly it might), I’ll let y’all know before Part 2 is published. Expect Part 2 to be published sometime around Thanksgiving, whether that’s before or after. Again, thank you for reading this. My notes app literally started glitching because of how long this was.