#in case anyone was wondering what the previous attempts were

[tbeorthottobe]

Bought myself a binder the other day and it arrived today. I'm pretty satisfied with it. I've got a stupid big bust so it doesn't get me as flat as I wish, but it's better than my last few attempts, which all failed miserably. I got this one from Underworks and can probably go down another size, but I'll probably just stick with this one for now. I've a stupid big bust (43 E) and it really got me a lot small than I was before. Not loving that I can now see my belly, though. I'm probably going to actually start exercising once I figure out what's going on with my hips. I was stretching every day because doctors kept saying the pain in your back is because you're not stretching enough! But I went on holiday last week and decided to skip one single night, I didn't even skip the morning stretches and the next day I woke up in pain again! And after that the pain just hung around till one morning a while later when I woke up in so much pain I could barely move. Thankfully this isn't new for me and I always have painkillers and water waiting nearby. But yeah, should probably go see my doctor again

[animeyanderelover]

I already did this concept with Dazai in those Hc's so I will not add him in here again.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, blackmailing, bribing, paranoia, attempted murder in Nikolai's part, isolation, abduction, death of reader in their previous world

Tags: @shumidehiro @izanami78 @leveyani

Isekai'd into their world

Nakahara Cuuya

🟠Bullshit! That’s the initial reaction that Chuuya has when he finds out. There’s a limit to how much he is willing to believe even though throughout his life he has seen some things you’d have to witness with your own eyes to believe in them. It is true that there is nothing about your past he has been able to dig up as your life has seemingly started the moment you were discovered by an elderly couple on the streets. You’ve always claimed that you couldn’t remember anything before you where found and since there has been nothing the police was able to find out about your past, they gave up on the case as you were slowly assisted into society. Chuuya doesn’t believe your claims though that you suffer from amnesia. He might be hotheaded but he’s been working for the Port Mafia for years now, has even been made an Executive. The one skill you develop in this position is to get a fairly good read on the person in front of you, on their body language as well as on whether or not they speak the truth or not. So whilst he has no solid proof about whether you lie to him or not, there is this intuition that he has in his guts that there is something you are hiding.

🟠His overprotective and paranoid thoughts tend to spiral so his first assumption is that maybe there is someone after you and that you’re on the run. If that is the case you don’t have to worry. Chuuya can and will provide protection if someone is after your life. The longer you remain silent about your past, the more impatient he grows. Chuuya hasn’t always been honest to you either, especially regarding his position in the Port Mafia. But you needlessly fuel his anxiety as you don’t reveal anything, only feeding his paranoid thoughts as he wonders what you could hide that is so atrocious that you don’t even want your lover to know. Yet when you tell him the truth finally, sensing that he is close to snapping, he gets mad at you. Are you mocking him?! Don’t lie to him now! He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe you until you see yourself forced to reveal everything you know about him. You know about Sheep, about Arahabaki, about the Port Mafia and about so much more. Only then does he believe you. The truth did not ease his worries though. No, instead Chuuya feels betrayed. Betrayed that you have known everything about him from the very beginning.

🟠He can’t hide. He can’t pretend anymore either. What’s the use? You know everything about him. With no facade to hide anything anymore Chuuya grows weirdly aggressive yet vulnerable. He doesn’t know how he should deal with this situation where he had no control over what he reveals about you and what not. It is fucking weird to know that in your world he doesn’t even exist and is instead a fictional character. What do you even think about him when he stands in front of you? Do you even see him as a real person? With really nothing to lose anymore Chuuya just abducts you then and there, unable to come up with another solution on how to handle this situation. Obviously he doesn’t tell anyone else about you though as he himself has to properly come to terms with the truth. As heavy as the feeling of betrayal sits though, there’s also desperation and paranoia. Desperation because he feels like he deserves to find out more about you as well since you already know far too much about him and paranoia now that he understands that you’ve died before in your world. You can’t be fine after all that happened, right? He’s going to help you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🍎Fyodor has always deemed you to be someone who stands out from the common crowd, for reasons he doesn’t understand either. Perhaps it is because your eyes perceive what others can’t see as he will never forget his first encounter with you. The glimpse of pure fear in your eyes as you gazed at him, seeing the demon disguised as a man. The way your body flinched away from his touch as he reached out to you, sensing the doom that would befall you the moment he’d feel your body. Only very few people have ever been able to realise him for the higher being that he is and it is the fact that a common sinner like you sees right through him upon first meeting him that makes you special. Fyodor tests his theory out only once by cornering you, giving you no chance to hide behind others as you are left alone with him. The sadist in him is relishing in the untarnished fear he sees in your eyes, purple orbs gazing at you as you slowly move away from him. He doesn’t follow you but he doesn’t have to. You poor thing now can’t run away from him anymore. You’ve dared to catch the devil’s interest and for that you will greatly suffer for Fyodor only knows how to take and destroy.

🍎It is when he figures out that you have no past that you only deepen his obsession. It’s intriguing. No past sins to judge you by, no trace of an existence stained in impurity before you appeared in this city. No matter how much research Fyodor does, he’s unable to figure you out. You’re a mystery to him, to a messenger of God. Oh, it is indeed a dangerous game you are playing. What could you be possibly hiding from him that is so forbidden that not even he can know? It’s like you’re trying to trigger him and it is this lack of control, the inability to cast divine judgment upon you as you are incomplete without a past to hold you accountable for that leads Fyodor to do something he normally never does. He rushes the process slightly, lures you faster into the spider’s web until you are trapped. The first thing he asks of you to confess is your past, the one thing he can’t find out about you. What are you? Are you a sinner or are you something more? No normal human should be able to deprive him of information he can always gather. The time for your confession has finally come, the day of your judgement has at last arrived. Now then you little mouse, confess.

🍎If only you would know how much you fuel his obsession the moment you are forced to reveal the truth to Fyodor. A sinner always pays with death to free them of their sins yet you have already died in your own world before you were brought to his own. You are free, or at least freer, of sins than anyone else on this planet. So before this world can ruin you once more he is going to isolate you, to shield you from the impurities of this world. After all it is the duty of an angel to bring salvation to those who are worthy. Now he also understands why you were so afraid the moment you saw him. What was the first time for him to ever meet you was after all only the first time for you officially meeting him as you had seen him multiple times before as nothing more than a fictional character in your own world. Maybe there is a scientific explanation of how it is possible for you to be transported into a world that was only fictional in your old reality but Fyodor pushes another agenda onto you. Have you ever considered it to be the will of a higher being? Have you ever considered it to be a second chance given to you? Don’t you worry too much. He will help you flourish in this world.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​BadumBadumBadumBadum. The melody of your heart when Jouno finds you one day stranded in an alleyway is certainly a good indicator of the fear and the anxiety currently swirling around inside your mind. Be assured though, he is here to help the little wounded puppy he's found himself right now. You'll just have to tell him who you are and where you are from and he'll get you safely back. That is at least the plan, the only problem is that you refuse his help. Hmm, that is strange. You're acting a bit suspicious, you know? Your little heart is telling him that his appearance seems to have only increased whatever stress you've already felt before. Is there something you're trying to hide from him? Even though his eyes are not able to perceive you, you don't strike Jouno as someone who has done something wrong that would force him to take actions against you. Still, he interrogates you, at least until he has gotten his confirmation that you haven't done anything criminal nor plan to do so. Technically that should be enough yet your heartbeat still hasn't calmed down. He's the reason. You're afraid of him. A reaction that usually only the bad guys have when seeing him.

♦️​The Hunting Dogs are heroes even internationally, normally citizens like you rejoice when seeing him. There are still things he'd like to ask you but you actually seem to gather some courage, tell him shortly that he has no reason to keep you trapped any longer since he has gotten his comfirmation. He isn't exactly pleased with the tone you use but he lets you go, though he's still quite dissatisfied with what he has gotten. As if fate is smiling down upon him though he soon has the pleasure to meet you again. You're still as close-lipped as the first time he met you but since he has now figured out where you work he decides to make acquaintances with your co-workers who are far more talkative. He can sense you standing there in the corner, your heartbeat going crazy as they tell him that you've recently started working here and haven't told them much about your past either. So you really just keep it a secret from anyone. That only makes him more curious, you know? With his position it is relatively easy to gather intel on you though it is when he is served with little to nothing that he truly starts realising that you must carry quite the secret around.

♦️​That is the kickstart of his obsession as he wants to figure out what it is you are hiding. What is the dark secret you don't want anyone to know about? His only clue lies in you and so he torments you with his visits, constantly attempting to guess what it is you are hiding only to never figure it out. How could he have known that you died in your previous life only to be reincarnated into a world that was purely fictional in your old world? It is after the abduction that you are left with no choice but to spill out the truth and as much as he would like to ridicule you for such an otherwise blatant lie, your heart is not lying. You're actually speaking the truth. And Jouno doesn't know how to reply to that, just staring at you with a furrowed face as if considering what the best response or even best reaction is to the truth he has so desperately wanted to know for so long now. You think that you see a glimmer of unease appearing on his face before he suddenly bends down, his hands grasping your chin. Just how much do you know about him? Even though you are his beloved Saigiku has ever considered revealing too much to you yet perhaps you already know too much, leaving him strangely vulnerable.

Nikolai Gogol

🕊️​To Nikolai you have always been entertaining. He has the fondest memories of the both you meeting for the first time, a sentiment you most likely don't share with him. After all it was obvious from the very first encounter that all that you felt for him was dread even though his disguise should have been immaculate, able to fool anyone else. He hides his sinister and twisted character when he needs to do so yet you have seen right through him and it is this seemingly keen intuition of yours that has gotten him so invested in you. Nikolai has never meant for this interest of yours to stay nor to develop into a burning passion that threatens to rip him off the wings he so desperately hopes to obtain. The demon threatening to steal his soul is none other than you, his crooked feelings for you spinning and turning as Nikolai finds himself trapped between two clashing desires. One is to obtain his freedom by murdering you, another one is his desire to keep you and share his sad fate of isolation and oppression due to his own feelings with you. It is a constant inner fight and more than just once has he considered ending your puny life yet there is one factor that ultimately stops him.

🕊️​He plans to torment you, to ruin the life you have so carefully built for yourself and the freedom you have in it yet it is the little information he can gather that has him pausing. No family, no friends, no past. You are essentially like a ghost who appeared overnight. He has no past which he could use to chain you down, nothing personal he could hold against you and that knowledge that he can't properly oppress you unless he knows about it torments him and only infuriates him more as if you were indirectly mocking him. Fine, he'll cut the games short then. When you wake up the next time, it is in a little cage with a cheerful Nikolai asking you how you're doing and if you have slept well. That grin only widens and turns into somethin hideous when he sees your eyes overflowing with fear. Yes~ Let that fear corner you and tie you down. Share your suffering with his own. There is still something, you precious dove, that he really needs to know. Only then can he fully drag you down to the bottom of despair with him after all. You need to tell him a bit more about your past. Your family. Your friends. He needs them for his plans. Imagine his surprise when he sees the relief appearing on his face.

🕊️​That grin on his face disappears as he realises the truth, even if only for a short moment. It isn't the fact that you are from a different world, it isn't that you died in your previous world either that sobers him down for one or two seconds. It is the realisation that you will always be freer than he will be. There are no family, no friends, no pets he could use to play with and to break you with. There is no information he can obtain about you unless you tell him yet here you are, knowing already so much about him since he was a fictional character in your old world. Half of your wings he will never be able to clip off. For one frightening moment his hands suddenly wrap around your neck and start squeezing down with enough force to have you gasping and choking before all of a sudden he lets go, leaving you to cough for air. When he bends down he has put on that playful appearance once more, whispering to you that it's still too early for you to die. He must say, you managed to catch him off guard for a moment there but that's alright. If things are more difficult there are more entertaining after all. He will make sure to plug every single feather off of your wings until you're just as broken as him.

[lostbo0]

Meant to be Yours…

Summary:

In attempts to catch a crazed stalker intent on having you all to himself, the team sends you and Spencer into the field posing as a loving couple in hopes to draw out the unsub, and perhaps residual feelings as well…

Warnings:

Drinking, canon-typical violence, some minor cursing

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Minor angst with happy ending

~~~

“This unsub presents with OCD-like tendencies; when things don’t align with his idea of how they should be, he feels an overwhelming need to fix it.”

“And as we’ve seen…” Morgan paused to survey the room, “will even resort to violent means to do so.” You fiddled with your fingernail polish in the conference room as the rest of the team ran-down the details of the case, each clack of the clock sending your imagination further spiraling.

“This unsub has taken a particular interest in (y/n) and Spencer’s…” Rossi glanced at you both, eyes darting between you and Spencer in the mere split second that he stalled, “perceived relationship.”

“Previous letters that he has sent to the BAU state that it is ‘unnatural’ and ‘wrongs must be righted’”. You shifted in your seat, hoping that the movement didn’t reflect concern on your end. You didn’t want to send the impression that you could ever be flustered by such a social degenerate with nothing better to do than stalk and nefariously matchmake strangers in the name of order. You didn’t want anyone to know that you were even slightly nervous. But of course you were nervous. There were death threats on your door, a faulty pipe bomb in your bathtub, notes to the BAU that begged the question what psycho was so concerned about your relationship status as he would go so far as to murder other men as a way to relieve the hatred he felt for Spencer Reid supposedly “taking his place”? You had no other choice but to be nervous.

“Additionally.” JJ began, “ Our unsub has found particular interest in (y/n), whom he believes to be soulmates with and will go to extreme lengths to feel connected to.” She clicked at the remote, panning the screen through crime scene photos from earlier, men killed and dumped out in the open, supposedly so you could find them. You shuddered and turned from the images and Spencer took the time to ghost his fingertips over your knuckles, a gentle and common way he has learned to calm you down. You looked at him, yet filled with the impression of observers, you tore your gaze from his equally fixated eyes. Something about the moment felt so intimate, despite seeming so insignificant. He only touched your knuckles, rubbing his middle finger over your index joint, occasionally drifting down your tendon, yet it felt so exposing and wrong you had to pull your hand away. You shot him a quick smile, hoping to mend the disappointment.

"He has yet to appear in plain sight, however,” Morgan shifted his weight, “We are hoping that our plan will draw him out.” He turned his gaze to Hotch, as if to say ‘continue’.

“(y/n) will go out into the field accompanied by Reid.” Your heart leapt when he said it. “They will go to the club that our unsub has been said to frequent, disguised as a couple.” That really made your heart leap. It felt so silly, being more nervous about interacting with your best friend than going into the field with a crazy obsessed murderer, yet the words ‘Ried’ and ‘couple’ in the same sentence made you tense up quite a bit. “We are hoping that this will set him off just enough to make an appearance, giving us the chance to take him into custody.”

For the first time since you sat down at the table, you turned your body to look at Spencer. He was messing with his hands at the table, head down, fully engrossed in thought. You wondered what he was thinking about. You always did. You wondered if you made him feel the same way he made you feel, but you dispelled the thought as Hotch dismissed the team to began preparing for your sting operation.

~~~

The club was dark. You wondered how the unsub would even see you here, however, Rossi assured you that he would come and he would see you on a date with Spencer. Date. You sort of hoped it was real, and not a ploy to catch a killer, but you would take what you could get. You and Spencer were sat at the bar in the middle of the room, practically lit by a spotlight. It was almost too obvious. Spencer turned, knees hitting the counter due to his height.

“Are you nervous?” He internally cursed himself for the question. Of course you were nervous. A serial killer was after you. He just wanted to try and make you feel better in any way he could. You read his concern like a book.

“A little bit, I think so, I’ve never done this before.”

“Have a killer after you?”

“Be on a date.” The admission was slightly embarrassing, even in front of your best friend, but you were 22 and had never been on a date before. Maybe you should have been more adventurous in high school.

“Wait, how?!” Spencer raised his voice in genuine shock.

“What do you mean? No one wanted to date the weird kid in high school.”

“Yeah but, you’re so pretty!” He froze, praying you didn’t see the heat rise in his cheeks. You did.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No its ok! It just caught me off guard that’s all.”

“Say it again,” A muffled voice came across your ear pieces, you picked out that it was Rossi’s. You completely forgot that you were being listened to.

“What?” Spencer quietly responded.

“We have eyes on our unsub. He’s looking at you. We need him to hear you guys, so turn it up a notch.” You looked up at each other simultaneously.

“Got it thank you Rossi.” You touched your ear piece, passing it off as pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I-I mean you are really pretty, I just,” Spencer took this time to take a big sip of his drink at the bar table. You did the same. “It kind of surprised me that’s all.” He swallowed hard and you put your hand to his forearm, exposed by his rolled up sleeves.

“It’s ok, I’m gonna make it easy for you, hm?” You lowered your voice and looked up at him giving him a slight nod. He nodded in response, happy for you to relieve the pressure from him. You proceeded to unbutton your top an extra button, fluffing up your hair as you shrunk the gap between you two.

“W-what are you doing.” He whispered, his voice turning up in the end.

“Making it easy for you!” You looked up at him, doe eyes peering through your lashes as you rubbed his arm, a habit you had adopted years before, yet it never felt so intimate until now. Spencer took the hint as well, smiling gingerly, ghosting a hand atop your exposed waist, almost as if he were afraid of breaking you. He had also done this many times before, however you both felt something not so platonic rising within you.

“I wasn’t lying, when I said you were pretty,” His large hand cupped your waist, fingertips innocently prodding at your waistband. Your hand snaked up to his bicep, feeling your heart rate rise in your pulse. “I meant it.”

“Spence, I-“

“I did!” His eyes widened, his tell that said ‘I mean it’. “I see you every day at work and I think that you’ve just come from some beautiful night out with some guy way cooler than me.” Spencer grabbed a piece of your hair between his free hand, observing it with his fingertips. Following his lead, you pushed a stray piece of hair away from his dark eyes, feeling his gaze deepen.

“I can promise you Doctor, no man has ever taken me out for a ‘beautiful night’”. You could swear you saw relief in his eyes.

“It’s so weird to me. Your soft hair, your contagious laugh, the way that you are so considerate, the way that I can’t take my eyes off of you,” He surveyed your face. “How could someone not see how beautiful you are?” It was your turn to go slack-jawed, unable to pull your eyes off of the words leaving his lips.

“Spence, I,” You pulled your hand to his cheek. “I think you’re pretty too.” This was quiet. The unsub couldn’t hear your voice this low. This was for only Spencer to hear. Quickly and almost against your judgement, your bodies pulled together. It was painfully and at the same time beautifully slow; A speed that said ‘I know what I’m doing and I know what I want’. Your lips barely brushed against each other. Your eyes closed and the world was dark yet suddenly so full of light. He didn’t want to break you, or taint the beautiful innocence he felt on your skin, he thought, you were too good for it. Yet his body pulled him closer into you, lips moving in untroubled unison, a way that spoke volumes in the silence between you. You grabbed his face and pulled him closer, shutting out the world, shutting out the unsub, shutting out the observant breathing in your earpiece. You felt years of unspoken feeling poured into you, as his language began to ignore your setting.

“(y/n), Reid, He’s left the club and he’s angry, you need to pursue him.” Hotch’s voice dug into your ear as you and Spencer ripped yourselves away from each other. A look of regret was exchanged before you quickly exited the club.

~~~

It was much darker outside and your eyes tried their hardest to adjust to the sudden change in light. The dry dirt beneath you was kicked up as you and Spencer ran towards the unsub’s vehicle you were briefed on hours before. You let Spencer advance to the car as you watched the woods that sat just beyond the headlights. A good place for an unsub to hide you thought. Just as Spencer turned to give you the all clear, a swift arm wrapped around your neck and cold metal pressed against your temple.

“Drop the gun!” The unsub yelled and it stung your ears as you flinched. “I said drop the gun!”

“Ok, ok, Im putting it down ok?” You fearfully dropped your gun to the ground, feeling the reality of the situation set it. He kicked the gun away, eyes now moving to a horrified Spencer, gun poised to shoot.

“Put the gun down.” Spencer’s voice dropped into a deep, demanding tone of a person you had never seen before.

“You took her from me!” The unsub’s spit flew as he choked out more and more accusations. “I saw your little show in the club there,” his voice tensed. “I don’t take kindly to people disrespecting me like that.” Spencer cocked his gun, zeroing in on the unsub, waiting for a clear shot.

“She isn’t yours.”

“Reid, (y/n), is everything alright?” Hotch’s concern soaked through your ear piece as the unsub’s grip on your neck tightened.

“She’s mine you bastard!” The unsub shouted his foul cry.

“No she isn’t.” Spencer snapped. “What is her favorite color?”

“I’m sorry?” The unsub was clearly not keen on playing Spencer’s game, and you were equally confused and terrified.

“It’s light purple. Not plum, not eggplant. Light purple. See, you wouldn’t know that because you don’t know her like you think you do.”

“I know where she lives you dumbass! I know all I need to know!”

“Please, any low level data miner can find someone’s address, but, you don’t know that she only wears her hair up when it’s over 75 degrees outside, and, every winter, she takes out a 5 year old pink sweater from grad school, because she doesn’t like to spend money on things she doesn’t really need.” You listened to Spencer draw out information you didn’t even recognize about yourself. “She also hates black coffee, hates Splenda even more, and wears socks without lines because they feel too weird.” The unsub’s grip loosened as you felt the gun on your temple falter.

“See, you think you know about (y/n), but the truth is, she will never love you, and the only rings you're going to see are the one’s around your wrist when they put you away.” The unsub paused and, in the split second that he faltered, Spencer snapped his gaze to your own, an unspoken nod, as you kicked the unsub’s shins as hard as you could, falling to the ground as the sound of a gun went off.

Your ears were ringing. You didn’t want to open your eyes or check your body for wounds. You wanted to wait as long as you could before seeing the difference between life and death dripping from your head, and yet, you were there. You were alive.

Spencer flung his gun to the ground throwing himself at your place on the dirt parking lot, trembling hands at your ears trying steady your shaky breath. You yelped as he touched you, pulling you into his arms rocking you back and forth as if to say ‘I’m sorry’, as if to say ‘I should have been more careful’, as if to say ‘I love you’.

“I’m here, It’s over now,” he whispered into your ear, grabbing your hands in his own. “Breathe, it’s ok, breathe,” You inhaled and exhaled on his cue as the team flooded in to handle the rest.

You didn’t know how long you sat there on the ground with Spencer. All you remembered were the soft kisses he planted on your tussled hair, and the warmth his body exuded in the cold autumn air. All he could say was ‘I’m sorry’, and all you could say was ‘Thank you’.

~~~

Spencer walked you back to the ambulance. They checked you out and, seeing no signs of injury, released you to go home. Spencer never left your side. You picked at your thumbs sticking out of the huge emergency blanket the medics gave you.

“I didn’t know you noticed all of that stuff,” You cracked out a quiet sputter of words from your swollen throat. “I barely ever did.”

“I guess it’s the profiler in me,” He stopped for a second. “Or maybe the fact that I just can’t take my eyes off of you.” He looked up at your red face. You could only laugh, a small, understanding breath that broke the tension between you. “I’m serious! It’s like, when you’re in the room I can’t focus, It’s like, like-“

“Like I can’t make myself act normal when you’re around,”

“Exactly,” You didn’t need words to speak what came next. A gentle hand on your cheek pressed icy fingertips into your jaw.

Spencer, you’re freezing! Come here,” You opened up your blanked, beckoning him to sit at your side. He rested his head on your shoulder, taking your hands in his own, slowly turning to place a gentle kiss on your temple. A warm, understanding kiss that said ‘I will never let a gun touch any part of you again, no one will hurt you’. You sat for a moment before Hotch took you away to take a statement. At this time, Rossi strode over to Spencer’s seat on the back of the ambulance.

“Good job out there.” He gave Spencer a knowing glance. “Keep protecting her Reid.” Spencer nodded eagerly.

“Of course sir.”

“Im serious. She was meant to be yours.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! It’s been a fat minute since I’ve posted any writing! I hope you enjoyed it, and if not… I don’t know, that’s just not my problem.

[junipers-archive]

Sweater

Word Count: 600

Includes: fluff! the team finds out about reader x Spencers relationship when you show up to work wearing one of his sweaters

"Y/n." It was Penelope, she was whispering conspicuously as you entered the office heading for the conference room.

"Goodmorning!" You answer quickly as you were already running late due to your much needed coffee run this morning.

She begins to trail after you. "Y/n."

You stop, now wondering what's wrong, especially as all the heads in the room begin looking towards you as you walk in. But it isn't until Derek speaks up that you're hinted as to why,

"So you and pretty boy finally did it?" Oh no.

You mind races trying to figure out how he knew. Did Spencer tell him? You'd agreed not to tell anyone at first so you wouldn't cause absolute chaos. But it's been sixth months you guess it's be perfectly reasonable if-

"Your-your Sweater...its Spencers." Penelope elaborates, calming you rampant mind, all at the same time making it spasm.

You look down silently at what you're wearing, its almost identical as your regular getup, but because you were really running late this morning you'd grabbed a sweater from the couch in your shared apartment on your way out.

Completely missing the fact it was Spencers. It had been a soft cobalt blue color crew neck, one of his favorites with little designs lining it in navy...and also one he wore quite often.

You stared in both disbelief from how you'd manage to grab the one he used most consistently and also at your own stupidity and how you'd failed to notice the whole car ride here.

You look up bewilderedly, to find your colleagues staring at you all in varying ways, Derek was grinning, Rossi was smirking, Penelope had taken to a worried/excited look, Emily was respectfully trying to hide her smile and even Hotch was pretending to read the papers in front of him to avoid eye contact.

You attempt a reply calmly but stammer despite yourself,

"I-I-we-um"

closing your eyes to focus your thoughts and breathe, you open them to find Spencer your lovely boyfriend entering or rather staggering into the room.

He had taken the long route so you'd show up at different times,

"Hi! Sorry I'm late-I just-I-What-why's everybody looking at me like that?"

Everyone shaking their heads and smiling to themselves ignored his question as Penelope began to brief all of you on the case.

You hope the subject will be forgotten.

But of course it won't be, and surprisingly its Hotch that asks once the case had been explained and he'd called wheels up,

"Are you two dating?"

Everyone was still seated, waiting for something to be said, and you could see the pleasure in all their faces as he uttered the question.

Spencer swallowed though, not having become aware of the situation even after you'd tried to pass him a note like some third grader.

It had read: I'm wearing your sweater!

To which he'd simply responded with, I'm sure no one's noticed.

Having of course not been aware of your previous interaction with the team.

"We-uh-well-" he tried to begin

"Yes. We are dating." You had to confirm it, knowing if you didn't it would only make matters worse in the long run.

To that Hotch gave his lopsided smirk, "I'm Happy for you, but I'm not thrilled to do the paperwork."

The team of course having heard, errupted in giggles, reminiscent of child like giddy as they finally took it as their cue to leave.

And as they filed out Spencer received several pats on the backs and "good going reid" from Rossi and Derek as you yourself had been berated with questions from Emily and Penelope and "I swear to god if he hurts you-"'.

But as you both shyly retreat, gather your things and exit you agree that the best reaction had been from Hotch as he whispered quietly before he left,

"Well I guess I have to let you room together now."

[mclacedes]

The Idea of You (LN4)

2. The Idea of Worthiness

summary: in which lando decides to make it up for ghostin you

previous ••• next

WARNINGS: it's pretty much all angst. in-depth described anxiety attack, anxious behaviour/mannerisms, description of depression and suicidal ideation, loneliness

wc: 3k

“but what if i can't do it?”

A/N: before anything else, i want to make it clear that my intention is NOT to trigger any kind of trauma in anyone with this. the reader has been warned of potential triggers. if you are going through some kind of psychological hardship, know that there are people who care and who worry <3 you are never 100% alone!

january 1st, 2024 — 3:30pm

you came home with a knot in your chest that seemed to tighten with every breath. the morning had been a blur, an awkward dance around lando’s mother as you searched for a polite excuse to leave.

of course you'd chosen the most simple and non-negotiable of lies: i need to spend some time with my relatives.

despite it being faintly true, you knew you'd spend the whole day with lando's family if the circumstances were different.

the night's words lingered in your mind as you walked out, wishing it could cover the truth: you couldn’t bear the thought of facing lando after what had happened—or rather, after what didn’t happen.

now, the silence in your own home was suffocating. you slumped onto the couch, your mind replaying the scene on a loop: lando's words, lando's reassurance, the way his lips had bruised yours, the heat of his breath so close, his hands on you, his hands in you, his fingers’ magic, and then... you wake up alone.

now, you knew lando felt the same, you knew that things could work out, you knew just the intensity of your feelings for him. but you also knew he hadn't texted you back all day and, seemingly, nobody knew where he was.

as his closest friend, you knew that he'd only have left that way if something really bad had happened.

what you didn't know though, was how bad it felt for him.

it had been a long time since lando had received the diagnosis. after years of wondering what was wrong with him and why he felt such a void within himself, he'd been told he had depression.

what they say is that treatment is easier when you have the right diagnosis, but that doesn't erase the fact that some days were infinitely more difficult than others—harder to get out of bed, harder to leave the house, to work, and singularly hard to live, specially because the latter is the last thing you want during a depressive episode.

he started going to therapy regularly when he was a minor, forced by his parents, but when he became an adult he left—said that talking about how horrible he felt wouldn't help, it would only make him feel worse.

and then the episodes gradually became worse as his life improve. for example, before arriving in F1, he oftentimes found himself fighting against the urge to simply end it all: the pain, the suffering, the disruption, the constant failed attempt at a better day, his very life.

even though he never attempted it, lando was caught contemplating the possibility of the end; he used to wonder how people would react when they heard "lando norris died, suicide", what it would be like if he wasn't here anymore.

“such a kind soul”

“such a beautiful boy”

“smart, funny”

“talented guy”

that's what people would say, in the best of cases.

in the worse of cases people wouldn't even notice he was gone.

well, following next to depression was anxiety.

lando’s anxiety was a constant undercurrent to his depression, feeding off it, amplifying it, tangling him further in a web of self-doubt. it was always there, an invisible weight pressing down, but some days it grew loud enough to silence every other part of him, like a swarm of thoughts buzzing incessantly, trapping him in a looping worry about everything and nothing all at once.

it started with racing—the very thing he loved was also the source of his most unrelenting fears. despite his undeniable talent and the acclaim he’d earned, the worry always crept in: what if i mess up? what if i’m not good enough? what if it’s all just a fluke, and one day everyone realizes i’m a fraud?

he dreaded that moment when the lights turned green, not because of the physical danger but because of the psychological toll—that split-second when any mistake, any misstep, could spiral out into a visible, unforgivable failure.

even beyond racing, the anxiety spilled into every facet of his life. he overthought every message he sent, every interaction, analyzing them for any hint of rejection, any confirmation of his worst fears. if he didn’t receive a response right away, his mind spun stories, convincing him he’d somehow upset the person or made a fool of himself.

and now, with you, it was worse. his feelings were tangled with worry and doubt; he feared you’d eventually see through his flaws, his bad days, his cracks, and walk away. the closeness you’d shared the night before terrified him. he wanted you desperately, yet that desire to let you in also exposed him to his greatest fear: that he would scare you away merely by the fact that he existed.

this anxiety could sometimes send him into a state of paralysis, leaving him unable to reach out, unable to bridge the gap even when he wanted nothing more than to feel your presence, to hear your voice. today was one of those days—the aftermath of a moment so perfect, so vulnerable, that his mind filled with a thousand worries. he couldn’t bring himself to message you, to even show you the rawness of his internal struggle. instead, he withdrew, waiting for the fog to clear enough for him to reach for you again.

but you had tried.

you: lando hey

you: i'm worried abt u

you: text me whenever u get the chance pls

you: i'm right here if you wanna talk”

there were another 20 texts of kindred nature from you in his phone—you spent the afternoon rewinding what had happened, wondering if there were any signs that he would do something to himself or… the devil god knows what.

you had barely moved or done anything at all since you had gotten home because lando still hadn’t texted back, and the worry in your chest was growing impossible to ignore.

you’d known him for years—long enough to see the shadows he kept hidden behind his easy smile. he had always brushed off the subject, deflecting it with humor or quick changes in conversation. but today, his silence was colder, sharper, more unsettling than usual.

hours had passed since you last saw him, and finally, you gave in and sent him a message, trying not to let the desperation seep through.

you: lando, i hope you’re alright. let me know when you’re home safe, ok?

the message delivered, but no ‘read’ receipt appeared. your heart sank, and as you stared at the screen, scenarios spun wildly in your mind.

lando was good at hiding. he knew how to pour himself into everything and everyone else, keeping busy, laughing, entertaining—until he couldn’t. when the episodes came, he retreated so far into himself that it was like trying to find someone in a pitch-black room.

you tried calling him. the line rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. your voice was barely a whisper as you left a message.

“lando… if you see this, please just… come home. or let me know you’re okay. i’m here, alright? no matter what, i’m here.”

when the call ended, the silence in your apartment felt just as cold as his void.

—

unbeknownst to you, he was okay.

at least that's what he said to max when he called saying cisca was worried about him. and thats what he said when he called his mom.

“i’m okay.”

but he knew there was nothing okay with him right now.

far away, in his silent retreat, a wave of coldness washed over him, and his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. that feeling in his chest was known: he was panicking.

it felt like the walls were closing in, a vice squeezing his chest tighter with every passing second. his hands trembled, fingers twitching as if searching for something to anchor him, to ground him in reality. he fought to keep his breathing steady, but the more he tried, the more elusive calm became. memories of your kiss haunted him—both a balm and a wound. how could something so beautiful leave him feeling so lost?

what if i’m not enough for her? he thought

a tight knot of fear formed in his stomach, mingling with the ache of longing. was he really ready for this? for you? for love? the questions spiraled, colliding with the weight of his own expectations and the pressure of his career. he couldn’t shake the sense that he was on the brink of something monumental, yet all he felt was the crushing weight of uncertainty.

the doubt crept in, fueled by echoes of his past, whispers of inadequacy that had followed him through the years. he recalled the stinging memories of being told he wasn’t good enough, of moments when his efforts felt like they never quite measured up. every trophy he’d won and every incredible milestone he had achieved done little to silence those voices. instead, they morphed into an insidious belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be a step behind, always falling short.

what if she hates me?

with you, the stakes felt impossibly high. what if he couldn’t be the partner you deserved? what if the pressure of the spotlight overwhelmed him and drove you away? those thoughts twisted in his gut, feeding the anxiety that swelled within him. he imagined you in a world where he wasn’t there, finding someone who could offer you the stability and unwavering support he feared he lacked. the very thought crushed him, deepening the ache in his chest, as it reminded him of all the times he had to fight for validation, only to come up empty-handed.

he was scared of what loving you meant, terrified of failing you, terrified of failing himself. the weight of it all felt unbearable, a heavy blanket of dread that threatened to suffocate him.

what if i fail her?

lando was too scared, too anxious. with every breath, his lungs ached, and with every tear that gathered in his eyes, he felt weaker. it was as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath him, and the vast unknown loomed below—a place filled with possibilities but also with the risk of falling into darkness. he clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, trying to ground himself as the rising tide of emotions threatened to pull him under.

every heartbeat felt like a reminder of his vulnerability, a painful pulse that echoed the uncertainty gnawing at his core. he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something profound, yet all he could focus on was the suffocating fear of not being enough. the love he felt for you, so pure and intoxicating, was also a heavy burden, weighed down by his past failures and fears. the thought of letting you down, of not living up to the promise of what could be, sent chills racing down his spine.

she's too perfect, i'm a mess

as tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, he felt a mix of shame and desperation. lando had always prided himself on being strong, on facing challenges head-on, yet here he was—vulnerable and exposed, battling an internal storm that felt relentless. the very act of loving you felt like a gamble, one that he wasn't sure he was ready to take. would he be brave enough to step forward, to embrace the chaos of his heart, or would he retreat back into the safety of his own fears?

with every sob that escaped him, the overwhelming tide of emotion pulled him deeper, and he struggled to keep his head above water. the thought of calling you, of reaching out for the connection he craved, felt both necessary and terrifying. what if you saw him like this—raw, broken, and afraid? what if he could never find the words to explain what he felt, or worse, what if you saw him as nothing more than a disappointment?

what if she saw me for who i truly am?

taking a shaky breath, he reached for his phone thrown on the couch, sitting on it. his hands were still trembling as he dialed the only person, besides you, who he knew wouldn't judge, but understand him.

“hey, mate, how you doing?” max fewtrell greeted him with his usual easy grin, only for the smile to falter the second he took in lando’s state: tears streaked his face, his eyes swollen and red, his nose and cheeks raw from wiping at them. his lips, split and bloodied, told the story of how he’d been biting them all day. lando’s breath hitched in his throat, his words barely making it out.

“hey… mate, i—” he tried, but the lump in his throat choked him. lando couldn’t even speak.

“lando, what happened?” max said, his voice low and steady, concern etched across his face.

“i think i… i fucked things up with Y/N,” lando's voice cracked, desperation pouring from him as if his world was unraveling right there in front of max.

the sight in front of max sent a chill through his spine. lando's looks, disheveled, like he’d been pulling at it in frustration all day. his bright green eyes were dulled, sunken and rimmed with red. the bags beneath them were dark, a stark contrast against his pale skin. his hands trembled on his knees, unable to steady themselves. his chest heaved, like the panic was consuming him from the inside, leaving only a fragile shell of the person max had known for years.

lando wiped at his face, the back of his hand coming away wet. he shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch.

“we kissed, we slept together and i pushed her away, max. i—i could’ve stayed. i could’ve—” his breath caught again, ragged and uneven. “but i left with no explanation. i went up and left her there, max… i’m so stupid.” he cried out.

lando’s breath hitched, and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it was no use. his shoulders shook, and a sob escaped him, raw and unfiltered. he hadn’t felt this way in a long time—like he was too broken to be loved.

"max, i’m a mess," he whispered, his voice cracking. "i couldn’t stay, i couldn’t even look at her this morning because… because she deserves better. i mean, look at me," he gestured to himself, his hands trembling. “i’m fucked up, max. i couldn’t even say the words, couldn’t even be honest. how can i be with her when i don’t even know what’s going on in my own head?”

max’s brows furrowed, his face softening as he listened. lando looked like he was spiraling, and it hurt max to see his best friend like this—feeling like he didn’t deserve something good because he was caught in his own storm.

“lando, mate,” max started, carefully choosing his words, “you’re not as messed up as you think you are. yeah, you’ve got stuff going on, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve her, or that you don’t deserve to be happy. and running away from her because you think you’re too broken for her… that’s not the answer.”

lando shook his head, wiping at his eyes, his voice trembling as he spoke. “but i am broken, max. i don’t even know how to deal with my own shit, let alone someone else’s. she’s this… this amazing person, and i’m just… i’m just me. she deserves someone who has it all figured out, not someone who’s going to bolt the second things get real.”

max let out a breath, leaning forward a bit. “no one has it all figured out, lando. not me, not her, not anyone. she’s not expecting you to be perfect, she’s expecting you to be real with her. that’s all. and yeah, maybe you’re not in the best place right now, but you can’t let that be the reason you push her away.”

lando let the words sink in, but it didn’t ease the heaviness inside him. “i left because i thought… i thought i’d hurt her more by staying. i didn’t want her to see me like this. i didn’t want her to see how much of a mess i am.”

“but by leaving, you hurt her anyway,” max said gently. “because she cares about you. and if you care about her too, you’ve got to let her in, even if it’s messy, even if you don’t have all the answers. it’s okay to not have everything together, lando. it’s okay to be scared. but you can’t run from this.”

lando swallowed hard, staring at the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch until his knuckles turned white. max was right. he had run—run because he didn’t think he was good enough, run because the idea of her seeing all his cracks terrified him.

“but what if i can’t do it? what if i let her down again?” lando’s voice was barely audible now, thick with doubt.

max’s expression softened even more. “then you figure it out, together. but you’ve got to give her the chance to make that choice. don’t decide for her that you’re not good enough. let her in. let her see you, even the parts you’re scared to show. that’s how you build something real.”

lando’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest. the thought of opening up like that—to be fully seen, in all his messiness, all his vulnerability—scared him more than any race ever had. but the thought of losing Y/N, of pushing her away because of his own fear… that scared him even more.

“yeah, sure,” lando whispered, his voice hoarse. “i need to talk to her. i need to fix this.”

max smiled softly, relief flickering in his eyes. “yeah, mate. you do.”

after bidding his best friend farewell, lando sat and tried to calm himself down by pressing his fingers with exposed raw flesh due to the fact he had gnawed at his own hands out of anxiety. he had to come up with something to make it up to you. he needed to.

TAGGINGS: @meglouise00 @rawr-123s-stuff

[biibini]

Heyy!! I really love your modern!mizu work sm 😭😭🫶 I was wondering if you could please write how modern Mizu would act when her and reader have an argument? Tysm if u do!!

modern!mizu in arguments

tags: modern!mizu is rlly sweet but ngl u spooked her a sec , tw: midterms , college au , reader is lowk mean & crazy from all the stress , resolved in the end ♥︎

a/n: just bc i want to be levi’s wife doesnt mean i’m leaving mizu just yet <3 my past few quarters have been beating my ass (im finally surviving)

modern!mizu would be the type of person to get anxious if something goes wrong at the beginning of ur relationship

and let her fight or flight kick in

bc she let her guard down the first time around (thanks m*k*o)

tbh i wouldnt rlly imagine yall getting into a fight

but i feel if a fight did happen, it would most likely stem from misunderstanding and misinterpretations of what u guys say

for example, a small argument at the beginning spooked her due to her previous relationship having little to no communication

before the first argument, u had just gotten home from a long school day filled with lectures, annoying group mates, and a senseless amount of studying

midterm season was approaching

things were a lil tense

u had hoped to destress and maybe cuddle with ur gf instead of being crammed into a dorm with two other girls with their crazy studying schedules

only to find her busy with her work

“I’m home!”, you yell into the hallway. The rain had just started pouring and you were sopping wet. Thank goodness your laptop was safe, but the rest of your clothes weren’t.

“Anyone home? Hello?”

Frustratedly, you jangle the keys out of the door. They sure wanted to be stubborn with you today after ALL the things you witnessed today.

An early lecture class that you were half awake at. A failed attempt at working with your group mates for your communications class, with Akemi being the only person that actually showed up. Your teacher becoming the strictest they’ve ever been. It wasn’t your fault that he’s going a divorce, but it sure feels like it.

And after all that came your awaited time to study. Only to find your favorite places filled to the brim with students who giggled and gossiped in their corners, making the noises grow larger and larger. God, freshman are the worst.

You were on the verge of insanity.

The sudden change in weather nearly pushed you to your edge.

Arriving at the apartment sopping wet, you were relieved to finally take off your wet shoes by the door, hoping to finally unwind and let go of the annoyance of the day.

With no answer to your call, you assumed it was an empty apartment and huffed, attempting to let go of all the stresses from the day. You hung your bag, letting it dry from the pouring rain. Little did you know how fucked you would be when you opened the bag to find your lecture notes, damp from the rain.

Sent over the edge, you throw your notebook onto the kitchen counter in an attempt to dry the papers. You were so screwed if they weren’t dry by the midterm this week.

You cursed as you dig up the rest of the contents in your bag, only to find them damp and wet from the rain. The only thing that truly stayed dry was your laptop due to its case.

“God, fucking damnit.”, you swore to yourself, continuing to lay out all the contents.

First, your things needed to dry NOW. Without those notes, you would be going into that midterm blind.

Now, it was you next.

You stormed into Mizu’s bedroom, fueled with rage and annoyance from everything today. It all felt like it was crashing down with every step you took. The tiredness, the annoyance, the wetness, the heavy weight of your drenched clothes. You couldn’t wait to take off everything and be dry & clean.

The door swings open right in front of you, hitting you face first. You step back to find Mizu with headphones on, wide-eyed, realizing what she just did. In the brief silence, you could hear the faint noise of the drums and bass being blasted into her headphones.

That was your final straw.

“Oh shit, sorry Y/N, I didn’t know you were home-”

“You couldn’t hear me lose my shit just now?”, you snapped. “Really now?”

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

At this point, you were too tired to care.

“What’s going on is that I’m wet, I’m fucked for my midterm tomorrow, and I just- I just need to go take this shit off.”, you huff, pushing past Mizu.

Before you can even move past her, Mizu grabs your forearm, pulling you back from your momentum.

"Hey.", Mizu said in a sincere tone while squeezing your arm, hoping to meet your gaze.

"What.", you snapped at her.

"I'm not the only person who's busy here.", she retorted.

You looked back to spot her eyes, dead and exhausted, forming dark spots under her eyes. You could tell how worn out she was, staring at formulas and mismanaged group projects all day. Her dull hair was in a disheveled bun, barely hanging onto the butterfly clip you had bought her a few weeks ago.

"Look, I've been working on these midterm projects all day too. My project group mates barely did their shit and our capstone check-in is coming in so soon… I need to catch up now and—“

“Could you at least be aware of your surroundings when you do work on your projects?”, you scoff as you past her and grab a towel and a hair dryer.

You walk back to your damp belongings, hoping you make it in time to minimize the damage. What you didn’t expect was your girlfriend also following your footsteps.

“Y/N, please…”

You wipe your chargers and pencil cases dry. You’re glad they’re safe and secure. As for your notes, you fear that’s a different story.

“Honey…”

You heard her but to be frank, your priorities was your drenched notebook, currently sopping up all the rainwater. You plug in the hairdryer and immediately get to work, hoping it’ll be enough to save you for the midterm coming next week. Some of the ink starts to bleed. You can only hope for readability as the pages on the notebook start to lighten.

“Y/N.”, she calls out.

You turn up the heat settings of the hairdryer as you continue to point the air on the important notes. It becomes more readable.

“Y/N!”

“WHAT.”, you snap back.

You look back in annoyance and see Mizu behind you with a house fan in her hands, eyes widen. You fear your response was a little too loud as you spot the power cord tremble in her hands.

Oh Mizu…

“Um, I’ll just put the fan here.“, Mizu states, whipping around in hopes of plugging in the fan quickly.

“Mizu, wait, I didn’t mean to—“

“No, it’s okay.”, she cuts you off. “I’ll just… um… I’ll just—”

You can hear the stammer in her voice. You reach for her arm before she can hide away. It’s cool to the touch, almost cold.

“Mizu, I—”

She turns around to look at you. Her eyes used to look tired but now they’re so shaken. God, you forgot how much words hurt.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at your earlier and now. I was so absorbed and stressed with midterms and the rain and everything about today. I’m so sorry, I should not have exploded like that in front of your face, especially since you have midterms as well. Mizu, I’m just so—”

“Overwhelmed?”

You sigh, “Very.”

A small smile grows on Mizu’s face. You let go of her forearm and smile back.

“Me too honey. Me too.”, she sighs in relief. “C’mere.”

Her left arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to her side. Were you a little damp? Yeah. Did she care at this moment? Not a chance.

“After we get these notes all nice and dry, do you want to take a nice, warm bath and you’ll talk about your day and I’ll talk about mine…”

Your face warms up as her hand starts to slowly feel up and down your side. Her touch felt so warm and welcoming.

“Mmhm”, you hum in agreement.

Her mouth slowly inched towards your ear, her breath dancing over your lobes.

“and maybe, afterwards, some de-stressing?”, she hints, breathily. You don’t need to look at her to know she’s smirking.

“I wouldn’t be opposed.”, you tease.

Besides, Ringo wouldn’t be back until next week.

Mizu places a kiss on your cheek. She plugs the fan, double checking to make sure it is aiming at your notebook, as well as your bag.

“Thank you for your helping, Mizu.”, you say as you kiss her on the cheek.

“No worries.”, Mizu says as she grins, pulling you to her again to steal another kiss. “We’re both stressed, we need breaks every once in a while.”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t count that last part as a break—”, you jokingly question.

“It’s a maybe… just putting the thought out there.”, Mizu defends, putting her hands up.

After your notebooks are dry, you notice that most of your notes are fine. Thankfully, you remembered Akemi was in the class and were able to get her digital notes from her iPad.

As shitty as your day first started, it couldn’t come close to the end of your day. You got your hot bath and rant, as promised. And maybe that last step too.

[dark-frosted-heart]

He Doesn’t Know That I Turned into an Animal - Roger Barel (Premium End)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. None of my translations are proofread until a day after posting

Roger: Can you follow this scent too?

Roger held out a white handkerchief to me.

(This is the handkerchief I lent to Roger on a mission…!)

(Could it be that the one he’s looking for is me…?)

Roger: I have sharp ears, so I was listening for the voice of this handkerchief’s owner, as well as her heartbeat and footsteps. But I haven't been able to hear anything. So…please. Help me find her.

(Last night you were listening for me…)

(Why did I assume that he wouldn’t?)

(I want to tell him that I’m right here since he’s so worried about me!)

I led Roger to my room.

Roger: The scent led you to this room?

Kate: Arf! (Yes!)

Roger: …Any clue where she went after?

I made laps around my room. I wanted to convey to Roger that the scent couldn’t be traced out of this room.

Roger: You’re telling me that Kate never left her room…? No…that’s not right. She left without anyone noticing?

(Yes! You’re doing great, Roger!)

I’ve been wondering about how I ended up like this, but…

I think the cause was me touching some kind of chemical while cleaning up the infirmary.

The things Roger researches range from useful to questionable.

The fact that he had a drug that could turn a person to an animal shouldn’t be a surprise.

(Since Roger’s the one that manages the drugs, he should be aware of the possibility of me turning into a corgi…!)

Roger: …Like if she could disappear like Liam, or transform, then no one would notice her.

(You’re pretty sharp, Roger…!)

Roger: As an animal, the lil’ lady wouldn’t be able to say anything or call for help…

(You’re getting there, Roger!!)

Roger: And then a cute female corgi just so happens to show up… Meaning you’re— 

Kate: Arf! (I’m Kate!)

I met Roger’s eyes and barked to make it sink in. However…

Roger: … No, that’s impossible…

Roger looked away from me, throwing the answer he worked toward out.

Roger: This is bad. I don’t have a clue.

(You’re kidding me…All that work and you’re not putting it together?!)

From experience, I knew Roger was knowledgeable and open-minded.

Normally it’s impossible to turn into an animal, but I thought he’d consider it.

(How do I tell you…?)

Roger: Hmm… I should write down what I know so that I can find Kate…

Roger took out a notepad from his pocket and started writing things down.

Maybe he was writing down things he noticed while looking for me.

(...It felt like Roger was analyzing things just then, but maybe I was imagining things?)

(In any case…I can’t give up! I’ll keep trying until I get through to Roger!)

And so I used all of my corgi brain power…

I tried to tell Roger that this corgi was Kate.

I tried to use the typewriter… (My dog paws were too big)

I tried to use the piano to show that I was human inside… (William praised me for being a genius, though as a dog)

I tried to show the mystery novel where people and animals swapped places… (Harrison tossed me out his room)

After numerous failed attempts, the sun set— 

By the time I returned to the infirmary, I was completely exhausted.

(What can I do…)

Ale: Arf? (What’re you trying so hard for?)

Kate: Awoo…(I want to tell Roger that I’m Kate…)

Ale: Woof woof? (That guy can’t understand us though?) …Woof, woof (...Sometimes Roger gives me a sad smile)

(Huh…?)

Ale: Awoo…(Maybe he still thinks about how he couldn’t wake my previous owner up) Woof, woof? (I enjoy being with Roger, but I can’t tell him that you know?)

Kate: Woof… (Ale…)

(Until now, I’ve always thought that it was important to deliver people’s thoughts and feelings. But as a fairytale keeper…)

(...I’m now in a position where I can’t no matter what I try, so I understand the pain better now) 

Ale: Woof! (There’s no point in moping. Let’s eat some snacks!)

(Snacks…?)

Ale: Arf? (Hey Roger, what do you have there? In your pocket!) Woof… (It’s been rustling for a while now…)

What Roger’s been repeatedly taking out of his pocket was just a notepad.

Every time I did something, Roger would take it out and jot something down.

Ale: Woof?! Woof! (Do you have tasty treats in your pocket?! Give it here!)

It seemed that Ale mistook Roger’s notepad for a treat or something.

Suddenly, Ale jumped high and the notepad fell out of Roger’s pocket.

Roger: Ah, Ale!

Ale: Woof… (What the…This isn’t a treat…)

The notepad fell open on a page…and I happened to catch what was written on it.

“Animal transformation curse observation record…Subject: Kate”

And then the page turned thanks to Ale’s paw touching the notepad.

(...Hm?! This…)

“She understands human speech, but can’t speak due to having a dog’s vocal chords.”

“To reveal her identity, she played the piano and tried to show me a novel. She’s kept her memories from when she was human.”

His notes were filled with information related to me as an animal.

Kate: Arf…? (Roger…?)

I stared hard at Roger and quickly put his notepad away.

Kate: Arf! Arf?! (This! This is my record, isn’t it?!)

Roger: Ah…You saw, lil’ lady?

Kate: Arf! Arf?! (Just now! Did you say “lil’ lady”?!) Grrr…(You noticed that I’m Kate, didn’t you…!)

Roger: Can’t understand what you’re saying, but I know you’re angry.

Kate: Arf! (Explain!)

Roger: You probably want an explanation now?

Roger sat down on a chair in the infirmary and began his explanation.

Roger: I didn’t notice that you turned into a dog until this morning. When you led me to your room after smelling the handkerchief… That’s when I finally realized that you might be a dog.

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: As an animal, the lil’ lady wouldn’t be able to say anything or call for help…

(You’re getting there, Roger!!)

Roger: And then a cute female corgi just so happens to show up… Meaning you’re— 

Kate: Arf! (I’m Kate!)

Roger: No, that’s impossible…

~~ Flashback end ~~

(You did notice at that time…?!)

Roger: …This is probably why you became a dog)

Roger fetched a green bottle from a shelf.

Roger: This bottle has a “become whatever animal you want to be” drug. But…it was leaking because of a crack on the bottom, so you probably touched that while cleaning.

Kate: Woof…(Yeah…)

Roger: Also, I have a guess on how to turn you back. With a kiss…

(K-kiss…?)

Roger: Like in the fairy tales you know? A curse is broken with a kiss.

(If you knew that, then why…)

Roger: Why didn’t I turn you back immediately? So that I could study you, of course.

Those words reminded me of how Roger acted this morning.

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: This is bad. I lue. Hmm…I should write down what I know so that I can find Kate…

~~ End flashback ~~

(At the time, I thought Roger’s tone was analytical…)

(I can’t believe you were pretending to take notes to find me when you were really just writing down your observations…!)

If Ale hadn’t jumped and Roger hadn’t dropped his notepad…

I would never have known.

Kate: Grr…Yip! Yip! (You…mad scientist! Egoist!)

Roger: What’d you expect me to do? It would've been such a waste to turn a valuable research subject back so soon. But I’ve done enough research for now, and I miss your human form. Shall we turn you back?

Kate: Grrrr…! (You’re the worst…!)

It’s true that Roger looked hard for me before realizing who I was.

Last night, he looked so serious while listening for me.

(But…that’s besides the point!)

(I worked so hard to make you realize who I was so it’s right for me to be angry that he decided to use me as a research subject!)

Ale: Woof…? (I don’t know what’s happening, but is it Roger’s fault?) Arf! (In that case, go all out!)

(Go all out…Yeah, let’s do that!)

Following what Ale said, I jumped onto Roger’s lap—

Roger: !

I kissed Roger on the lips.

I didn’t do this for Roger, but because I wanted things to go back to normal, but…

Maybe because I wasn’t used to having a corgi body, I only touched the corner of his lips.

I doubt this could be called a kiss.

(Will this really turn me back…? …Ah)

At that moment, my body grew hot…The corgi body started to shift.

Kate: Finally! I’m back…!

Roger: Ah…Lil’ lady, I don’t wanna say this, but…

Roger’s gaze on my body made me realize that I was naked.

Kate: D-don’t look!

I quickly wrapped myself in a blanket and huddled a corner of the infirmary.

Kate: Will you take responsibility for making me your research subject and bring me some clothes?

Roger: Yeah, no problem. But… Is that what all?

Roger pointed at my head and my body that was hidden by the blanket.

Kate: …? What do you mean— 

I casually touched the spot on my head that he was pointing to…And froze.

There was something coming out of my head that shouldn’t have been there.

Kate: W-what is this?!

I borrowed a mirror to check…

I still had corgi ears on my head and a short corgi tail on my butt.

Roger: Maybe because it wasn't a full kiss so it wasn’t a complete transformation. This really is interesting.

Kate: No way…! How do I turn back completely?!

Roger: Why not kiss me again?

Kate: It doesn’t have to be you, does it? All I need is a kiss.

Roger: If that person loves you, then it’s no problem.

Kate: Love…

Roger: Actually it has to do with the area of contact, the duration, and saliva composition… A loving, passionate kiss should do just the trick. A loving kiss is what breaks the curse in a fairytale after all.

(If that’s the case, then the half-hearted kiss only undid part of the transformation…)

Kate: Roger…do you…l-love me?

I felt oddly embarrassed asking that, and my voice was shaky.

Roger: Of course I do. You were so cute as a corgi.

Roger’s answer wasn’t really what I wanted to hear.

He probably knew what I was really asking and dodged the question on purpose.

Roger: Is that all you wanted to ask? Then go ahead and kiss someone else?

Kate: …

I was angry with Roger for knowing who I was but not saying anything about it because of research.

That’s why I wanted to kiss someone besides him…

(...Why can’t I move my legs?)

Roger: Just so you know… If you leave this room with those cute corgi ears and tail, you’re gonna run into some troublesome men. Not everyone in this castle’s a gentleman. Since research’s my priority, it’d be safer to kiss me.

Kate: Why are you saying stuff to make me stay?

Roger: It doesn’t feel good watching someone you’re fond of wagging their tail for someone else. It’s only natural.

(I can’t take this anymore…)

(I should be angry with Roger, but more than that…)

(I really want to kiss him)

Surely this was just an after-effect of Roger doting on me when I was a dog…

That’s what I told myself.

Kate: Okay… Since you took care of me while I was a dog, I’ll take care of you.

Roger: That so? Thanks.

The moment I saw Roger’s satisfied smile, my tail started wagging under the sheet.

(What am I so happy for!?)

Roger: But before a kiss to turn you back— —Let me do a thorough examination of your body.

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty-Three

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no use of 'y/n')

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: Arguments, threats, attempted blackmail, mentions of sex as terms of an agreement

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

When Jazper said that he had set up a meeting for you, you hadn’t known what to expect. 

It was too soon for the next meeting of the Undercity Innovation Committee, which was the logical choice for a requested meeting. The committee was scheduled to meet every three months, and it had barely been a month since the last one. 

But you thought perhaps someone had been interested in setting up a partnership with the Haven similar to the one you shared with Stocked. Perhaps Cipanni wanted to have one of her apprentices stationed as a full-time mechanic for the Haven or Ronid was looking for more recommendations to fill his soon-opening apartment complex. 

However, the elegant Ionian woman waiting in the meeting room was unfamiliar to you. Jazper had simply directed you to the room with a smile, so you couldn’t ask for any clarification. Instead, you pasted on your best professional smile and stepped inside. 

“Hello,” you offered, adding an introduction when she looked up at you.

“Hello,” she returned, voice pleasantly husky. “My name is Ahri. I work for Councilmember Shoola.”

Your brows arched. “Nice to meet you, Ahri. I can’t imagine what I could have done to rate a visit from a Council staff member.” 

Ahri laughed. It was a genuinely happy sound and you relaxed slightly. “Please, sit. Shoola has become aware of the friction between the Upper Piltover and the Undercity. She sent me to explore options for improving relations between the two halves of the city.” 

“Is there a reason she asked you in particular?” you asked, terrified that the question would come off offensive. 

Thankfully, Ahri didn’t seem offended in the least. “I’m friends with Jazper, of course. His experiment with the Lanes has drawn quite a bit of attention in the upper city, and he has been helping me come up with ideas on fixing this rift.”

You straightened in your chair, hoping she wasn’t close enough to watch your fingers tremble as the enormity of that statement hit you. Piltover was interested in repairing relations with the Undercity? You weren’t fully convinced that it wasn’t a trick of some kind, but if it were true… well, the impacts would be enormous. 

“What- Uh…” You paused, allowing yourself a moment to gather your thoughts before you spoke. “I’m curious about what Jazper has suggested. Have you come up with any options yet?”

“Oh, yes,” Ahri confirmed with a nod. “I believe we’ve found our solution. I already got it approved by Councilmember Shoola, so we’re in the final stages now.” 

“Ah.” It was wonderful to hear that a plan to improve things was already in place, but you had to wonder why you were there. “In that case, what can I do for you? Jazper didn’t tell me much about this meeting before it started.” 

Ahri chuckled. “Jazper has a flair for drama. Let me lay everything out for you: there are many causes of strife between Upper Piltover and the Undercity. I’m sure you are aware of that. There is no one solution that can address the variety of issues between the two halves of the city, and my decision was that no single person can possibly decide how to fix everything.” 

You bit back the irritated expression that was almost certainly trying to bloom on your face. Everyone who looked into the Undercity walked away with an understanding of the enormity of its problems… but they still walked away. If everyone who could help walked away because they were overwhelmed, it wouldn’t help anyone. 

“The Piltover Council has agreed to create a task force,” Ahri continued, cutting your internal ire short. 

“A task force,” you repeated slowly, rolling the words around as if you could test them by the way they fell from your tongue. “To do what?” 

It was a loaded question. Politicians and the people interested in appeasing them often gave vague answers full of buzzwords that were sure to resonate with their intended audiences. People who intended to follow through on what they said they would do, by comparison, would give answers that were far more complex and nuanced. 

“Simply put,” said Ahri, in an already bad start, “the task force will investigate the causes of the problems between Piltover and the Undercity.” 

You nodded, working to keep your smile. “And what will they do with their findings?” 

“Create solutions for individual problems, test how well they work, and adjust as necessary,” she told you. “If a certain solution seems like it would be beneficial on a long-term basis, the Council has pledged to dedicate a sub-committee to continue working on it. They will report their progress to the task force and to the Council, until everyone agrees that there is no benefit in continuing the work further.” 

You took a moment to let that simmer in your mind. Ahri lifted a brow in friendly challenge. “Any other questions?” 

“One.” It was an important one, and you leaned closer intently. “Who will be on the task force?”

“A representative of each Councilmember, each one qualified in some way and vetted by Councilmember Heimerdinger.” Ahri grinned. “I know that's vague. I believe Councilmember Shoola is speaking with an economics professor from the University. Some of the others are searching for urban development specialists and environmental scientists. There should be a good variety.” 

You tried to keep the disappointment from your voice as you summarized, “No one from the Undercity, then.” 

“Strictly speaking, no.” You nodded slowly, but Ahri wasn't finished. “But the whole task force hinges on one person who lives in the Undercity.” 

If she said Silco, you were going to scream. 

“You.” 

The sight of your gaping face couldn't have been an elegant one, and Ahri probably lost any hope of your professionalism, but you couldn't help it. “Me?” 

Ahri laughed. “Yes, you. The Council wanted someone trustworthy, someone who knows the problems of the Undercity without being drawn into the attitude of spiteful independence that has made Upper Piltover reluctant to help in the past. Jazper recommended you quite highly.” 

Tears rose to your eyes and climbed your throat. “That was very kind of him,” you managed. 

“If half of what he says is true, Jazper’s recommendation is well-deserved.” Ahri gave you a sympathetic smile. “I understand that it's an overwhelming request. Like I said earlier, let me give you all of the facts and you can make your decision from there.” 

When you finally left Stonesea, your mind was filled to bursting with all the details of the offer. You would have to move to Piltover proper, since the task force was intended to start working full-time as soon as you arrived. You were going to be part of the task force - not its leader, but the one who would approve the ideas suggested by other members. 

As the only person who had worked in the Undercity, especially extensively, you had a vital vantage point on what would work and what would be a waste of city funds. The whole thing hinged on you: the work you had done with the Haven put you in a unique position. You were an expert on the workings of the Undercity while also considered trustworthy by the Piltover Council. Ahri had danced around it carefully, but if you declined the job, the task force would not happen. 

It had a strong potential to be an empty and placating gesture. There were good odds that Piltover was doing this to give the impression that they cared so they didn't have to spend time working on more realistic solutions.

At the same time, you were hopeful. This was the first time the Undercity had ever had a dedicated representative of any kind in Upper Piltover. It wouldn't fix everything and you were keenly aware of your own shortcomings, but it was an important step. The Undercity would have a voice working closely with the governing officials. 

You had no choice but to accept. 

By the time you arrived at your office, you were dazed. You sat behind your desk, pulled a cheap notepad closer to you and began to scribble. It helped ease the massive tide of thoughts colliding inside of your mind, and a rough to-do list started to take shape under the scrawl of your pen. 

You would need to do the next few months of grant requests. The others were more than capable, but you needed to make sure it was done. You needed to pack, obviously. You would have chances to come visit the Haven every so often, but not regularly enough to store belongings there. 

And, most importantly, you had to name someone to run the Haven while you were gone. You had already decided that it should be Arunn. For all the work he had done on himself and with other people, there was no one you trusted more to keep things going without you. Besides, with all the time Arunn spent by your side, he had a fair idea of how to run the Haven. 

Even so, you started a new list. This one outlined the guides you would need to build to help Arunn through the first few weeks without you. There was a lot that needed to be done and all of it seemed to be in rotation at any given time, but you had also spent your time building a solid team. Every member of the Haven’s staff was good at what they did, and they would help support Arunn until he felt comfortable on his own. 

You smiled a bit as you thought of how Arunn’s journey at the Haven had started and just how far he had come. He was wonderful, a natural caregiver with enough common sense to know when to back away from a situation instead of pursuing it. Yes, Arunn would be a marvelous person to lead the haven, but you had to contain yourself - you hadn’t actually asked him yet. There was a chance he would say no, though you doubted it. 

Every muscle in your body tensed as the door flew open with explosive force. 

You had half-stood from your chair when you saw the cause of it: Silco was standing in your doorway. 

At first, your focus was behind him. It was a terrible risk for Silco to come to the Haven, and you hadn’t planned for a meeting that day. You hadn’t done anything to divert staff members from being on the ground floor or in the area around your office. 

Fortunately, the hallway behind Silco was empty. You stared at him in shock and dismay. “Well?” you hissed. “Close the door!” 

“Is it true?” 

The demand was nonsensical, so you couldn’t blame yourself for staring blankly at Silco. “What are you-” 

“Say it isn’t true!” he barked out, crossing the room in a few rapid strides. “Tell me you are not stupid enough to accept a job on some task force the Piltover Council put together.” 

You fought a wince at the venom in Silco’s voice when he spat out ‘task force’. Carefully avoiding eye contact, you moved around him to close the door. When you turned, he had wheeled in place in front of your desk, watching you with an intense expression. 

No - not simply intense. His face burned with scarcely-controlled rage. You noticed for the first time that his clothes were in disarray. Nothing the average person on the Undercity streets would notice, but you did.

“Silco…” 

“Do not.” The warning sliced through the stillness of your office, cracking like a whip against your ears. “I will not believe you are so foolish as to fall for such a blatant attempt to placate the people of Zaun.” 

“I’m sorry to fall short of your expectations,” you said stiffly. You didn’t particularly enjoy being called stupid, especially twice in such a short span of time. 

Silco’s eyes burned at you, but he glanced away after a moment. You watched him take a deep breath, combing his fingers through his hair until it was swept back and away from his face. He tucked his hands behind his back as he studied a picture on your wall in a faux-casual manner. “You will turn down the offer.” 

You managed to keep from laughing outright. In Silco’s current mood, there were good odds that doing so would lead to violence. Instead, you kept your voice as calm as possible as you replied, “I will not.” 

The thin veneer of calm on Silco’s face disappeared in an instant as he wheeled on you, baring his chipped teeth. He managed to keep from shouting, but you could tell from the tension in the muscles of his neck that it was a close thing. “Do not test me. Not on this.” 

“I thought this over,” you argued. “Examined it from every angle. There are more reasons for me to take the job than to refuse it.” 

“Perhaps you did not think long enough on the other side,” Silco suggested. “Allow me to enumerate several of the many reasons you should not accept the position you have been offered.”

He wasn’t going to change your mind. You knew that and you suspected that he did, as well. Still, letting him explain might help him accept it more easily when you told him that you were going to leave. 

Plus, it might help soothe the twinge of guilt you felt when you realized that your relationship with Silco hadn’t even been a consideration as you were making your choice. You gestured for him to make his case. 

“First,” Silco started, and you already started to regret your choice. He had the air of a professor giving a lecture on something he loved - and he knew his audience was a captive one. “It is an empty gesture. Piltover has no true interest in reconciling the differences between us. There is too much to be gained with things remaining exactly as they are now.” 

You didn’t bother telling him that you had already thought of that. 

“Second, Piltover wants to recognize Zaun as part of itself. As the ‘Undercity’. Even the way they refer to us is as a lesser entity. They repeat time and again that we are lower and meaner, closer to the very dirt Piltover cleans from its streets. By accepting a place on this task force, you are undermining the possibility of a nation of Zaun.”

“That isn’t fair,” you objected. “Just because you hold out hope for a hypothetical future doesn’t mean I can’t work on making things better now.” 

“Hypothetical?” Silco repeated, an odd gleam in his eyes. “Only weeks ago, you were referring to Zaun and speaking of ways to make life better for her inhabitants. This is how we accomplish that.” 

“No, this is how we accomplish that,” you countered, patting your to-do list so he could be certain what you were referring to. “Thank you for sharing your opinions and arguments, but I haven’t heard anything that-” 

“I have not finished,” Silco said, a grim curve to his mouth. “Third, and perhaps the most important, I will not allow you to reside so far away.” 

You scoffed, the noise loud and rough in the quiet of your office. “We never negotiated an end to our agreement, but you don’t have the authority to tell me where I can or cannot live.” 

“Can I not?” he asked, tilting his head. 

“No.” You sighed, glancing down at your list as you thought over everything you had built. All you could do was hope that the community that had formed around the Haven would stand firm, even when things began to change. “Stupid as you think I am, I am not foolish enough to think that you’ll keep Shimmer out of the neighborhood-” 

Silco laughed. It was a sharp, mirthless sound. “Shimmer? Pet, I will do far more than release Shimmer on the streets. If you attempt to leave Zaun, I will ruin your life.” 

It was difficult to smile when your heart was choking you, but you did your best. “Ruin my life? How would you do that? By telling Piltover about the single donation I accepted from you?” 

“No,” he said, withdrawing a thin folder from an inner pocket of his coat. He tossed it carelessly onto your desk. “With this.”

You stared at the folder, framed by the edges of your to-do list.

Despite the haphazard way Silco had tossed it there, it had managed to keep its contents. And, judging from the way the folder’s cover was propped up, there were plenty of contents for it to hold. 

A sense of dread filled you as you continued to eye the folder like it was going to catch fire. Whatever it held, it couldn’t be good. And that wasn’t even taking into account the low threat in Silco’s voice when he said that he would ruin your life with it. 

“What is it?” you asked at last, looking up to meet Silco’s eyes. 

He nodded at the folder. “Insurance.” 

You glared silently. Clearly, Silco had no interest in handling this maturely. It figured - you finally had the chance to help repair things in the Undercity on a large scale and he decided to throw a tantrum. 

With a sense that you were somehow sealing your fate, you lifted the cover of the folder and peered inside. 

Notes. Pages of them, all filled with Silco’s small yet elegant handwriting. The first held an account of the first time he had watched you. Judging from the date, it was nearly a week before he had spoken to you. His account of that first meeting and a notation about you directing Arunn to the Haven filled the rest of the page. 

You leafed through the stack and started to find other evidence of your relationship with Silco. A handwritten receipt for the first check he had given you. Messages you had sent back and forth to communicate meeting times. Photographs of you walking up the staircase that led to his office.

Your hands were shaking. It could have been fear. It could have been rage. You weren’t overly concerned about the cause, because you were busy funneling all of your strength toward keeping a blank expression when you looked back at Silco. 

“Notes and records,” you remarked casually, flipping the cover of the folder closed once more. “None of it is very important.” 

Silco’s scarred upper lip was lifted in a snarl. “Despite how unimportant you deem our history, I believe you will find it matters a great deal to the Piltover Council.” 

You gave him a skeptical look, hoping that he couldn’t see the way your pulse was pounding in your throat. “Does it look great? No, definitely not. They might have reason to doubt my morals. But none of your ‘insurance’ is incriminating.”

“Is it not?” he asked in that lofty way that made you want to hit him. “Of all the evidence there, you believe there is nothing that would make the Council reconsider this plan? Their task force, which hinges entirely upon your moral character for justification? Because I disagree.”

“You said you would never use our relationship as blackmail material,” you protested. It sounded weak and childish even to your own ears, but it was the only argument you could think of that had a chance of swaying his opinion. “You promised me that before we started any of this.” 

“And I have not broken that promise,” Silco insisted. “I will not use our physical relationship - I do not need to. I have plenty from our business interactions. The money, the deals, the meetings. Innocent enough on their face, but given the skepticism Piltover holds for the nation of Zaun…”

Interrupting him was unwise, but not nearly as unwise as what you said when you did. 

“There is no nation of Zaun,” you snapped, relishing the way his eyes widened in astonishment. “That is nothing more than the pipe dream of a failed revolution. The people live in the Undercity of Piltover. Their lives are miserable because of people like you, who would rather burn down both halves of the city than allow it to join back together.”

Silco’s expression had gone flat, unreadable. You continued ranting, your words providing the only release to the stress of the situation. “If you are not the one helping people, you won’t let them be helped at all. You think of yourself as a benevolent ruler, but you’re nothing more than a power-hungry gangster obsessed with his own perceived power.”

Your office went deathly quiet. The only sound was your own quickened breaths as you glowered at Silco. He stared stonily back. 

“You are correct about one thing,” Silco admitted lowly. “I would rather burn this city down than allow it to be subjugated by Piltover again. And if I would burn my beloved Zaun, do you truly believe I would not use every weapon in my arsenal to keep you from speeding that subjugation? You will refuse the position on this task force, or I will release this information to the Piltover Council.”

He wasn’t smug. You had half-expected that he would be, but Silco seemed deadly serious. Two paths yawned in front of you with no room to continue as things had been. 

On one side, you could accept Silco’s terms. At the surface level, nothing would have changed. You would continue with your deal, continue working to help the Haven’s patients, and live with your knowledge of what could have been. But something would have shifted between you and Silco. He would know that he held power over you that was far greater than the power you held over him. Things would change, and they would stay changed forever. 

On the other path, you would simply… not. Not allow Silco to dictate your future. Not allow him to control the future of the entire Undercity. That would change everything from the surface all the way down to the bedrock. Your entire working relationship with him would be destroyed in one day, with one single decision. 

“No.” 

The very shadows around Silco seemed to deepen. “Do you doubt my intentions?” 

You wanted to laugh, but you were worried you would start to cry. Instead, you shook your head. “Your intentions have never been in question, Silco. You can give your information to the Council. They will probably cancel the task force and you will have gotten exactly what you wanted. But I have to try to help these people.” 

“You are helping no one but yourself by leaving,” Silco accused. “You care only for your own prestige. No outsider has ever truly cared for the people of Zaun. I dared to hope that you were different.” 

The accusation was a slap in the face. Unfortunately for Silco, you were entirely numb by that point in the conversation. You continued as if he had not spoken at all. “And in the likely event that I stay in the Undercity, our deal is over. You broke the terms of our agreement.”

“I did not such thing,” Silco spat. “These are business dealings-” 

“And you expect me to believe you don’t have a personal file on me?” you demanded, giving a harsh laugh when he didn’t immediately answer. “Exactly. By keeping these records, you confirmed that you planned something like this from the beginning. Our deal is done.” 

Silco loomed over you, mismatched eyes blazing.

You met them without fear as you held the office door open for him. “Get the hell out of The Haven.”

---

Author's Note - So, friends, how are we feeling? Sorry for the angst and I'm even sorrier that there's more to come. We're moving toward the end of this fic. Not super quickly, but we'll probably have things wrapped up in about ten more chapters. (I'm wordy, my bad.)

Anyway, for any of you who were just here for the spicy stuff, there's not going to be very much of that from here on out. A few scenes here or there, sure. And after I'm done wrapping things up, maybe I'll give in to the requests and write a chapter or two from Silco's POV. But if you want to dip out, now is probably a good time for it. (Thank you for reading this far!)

For those of you who intend to see this fic out, I'll see you next month! Feel free to send any questions in asks, DMs, or through the ever-beloved comments section. Thanks for reading!

[a-memory-a-distant-echo]

ok, you know what, fuck it, fic recs post. historically i try not to rec works in progress or things i haven't commented on and i'm throwing that fully out the window for this because honestly, fucking whatever.

if you're on this list and i haven't been fully unhinged at you in the comments, please know that it's because (1) i'm the worst and (2) i'm trying desperately to calibrate so i hit 'enthusiastic' and not 'kind of frightening, actually'. i swear that i have written at least several sentences of a comment for every fic on this list, it's just that i'm genuinely impossibly slow, sometimes. it's me, not you.

my previous rec post is here, in case you missed that. as a bonus, special for this rec list and as a concession to the horrors, i am attempting to guess how much any given fic will fuck up the average person. obviously this is a ymmv kind of situation, but i'm trying, at least?

everything else under a cut because i am longwinded.

and found by @dangerouscommiesubversive, explicit, every possible combination of di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua | li xiangyi; bless, but i am not typing all that out. starting off with a wip where i haven't left a comment in like four fuckin' chapters, breaking those rules real good. this fic is a fucking ride. i will admit that i wasn't entirely convinced by the premise when i saw the blurb, but i am nothing if not willing to admit when i was wrong, and i was—once again—totally wrong. this is the fic where i was like 'ok but…is anyone really, like, desperate for gen z li xiangyi?' and then i read it and i was like 'ohhhhhh fuck yeah, ok, i get it, i was actually fully desperate for gen z li xiangyi.' he is. such a little prick. i love him. there has been something unexpected and delightful in every single chapter of this so far, plus a number of impressively memorable one-liners. this fic is fun and distracting and at least as of chapter seven, i'm gonna say it's not even gonna fuck you up. (please note that this is only through chapter seven!)

and the days are bright red by @junemermaid, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. rip to my beloved tumblr mutual @junemermaid, because they're getting called out twice in this list, but: tough. this fic is so delightful. featuring: memories of slut era li lianhua, the mortifying ordeal of being known, an entire box of historically accurate sex toys, fang duobing and di feisheng communicating (sometimes silently) in a way that unsettles li lianhua (back from his months-long sojourn), some very hot sex that is both very much about sex and also about trust and being perceived, casual intimacy, and fledgling tenderness. there are Emotions in this, and they get moderately intense, but it's a very kind and surprisingly gentle feel-good fic.

a drink under a clear window by @momosandlemonsoda, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing and fang duobing/qiao wanmian. a fic that tackles the dreaded v-shaped polycule and makes it work. it seems like perhaps it shouldn't: fang duobing as the hinge, with di feisheng and qiao wanmian on either side, but actually it works perfectly, and is a lovely little glimpse at who they could become and the relationships they could have. i love the thought of qiao wanmian having come into her own as a leader in her own right, as more than just the representative of the ghost of li xiangyi, and this does a wonderful job of letting her be her own person. also, yes, ok, passing fang duobing back and forth like a party favour. this is a post-canon fic in which li lianhua is dead, but the fic itself a straightforward delight that is not at all fucky uppy.

the floating clouds, no resting place, again by @junemermaid (not sorry), technically gen and no ship, but functionally pre-di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. the hair-washing fic. ohhhhhh. i started jotting notes for this post the day that i finished this fic, and i really thought that they were in any way comprehensive, but instead, what i typed and left as a note to myself was this:

and honestly. you're right, hypothetical reader, that doesn't totally make sense, but i stand by it regardless, because i apparently had that thought in [checks date i last saved the file] fucking august, and i'm still nodding along with myself. that is that this is like. this fic is very beautiful and will make you ache and will leave you slightly better at the end of it than you were at the beginning. it may also make you cry; this seems to me a fair enough trade.

the floating lotus by @anndramarama, not rated, di feisheng/li xiangyi. pre-canon stuff doesn't always work super well for me, but i really enjoyed this one, featuring di feisheng and li xiangyi when they're both so young and arrogant and full of themselves—and stupid and naïve and young and almost hopeful in a way that they're often not, in fic, for all that they were barely but children at the point of the donghai fight. they just seem…vulnerable, i guess, in this, in a way that i find touching. seasonal bonus: a ghost story, of a sort. given that this is set pre-canon, i think it's hard to come in any softer than bittersweet, which this very much is.

from here one's hand could pluck the stars by @howlingmoonrise, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing. sex pollen fic! also featuring, a little surprisingly, given the premise, incredibly explicit and enthusiastic consent. look, this does what it says on the tin. di feisheng gets sex pollened. fang duobing is left to stay with him. the obvious ensues. unfortunately, it is also devastatingly charming? fang duobing is earnest and sweet; di feisheng is suffering beautifully terribly and trying so hard not to impose on fang duobing. they're both trying so hard to be respectful of what the other person needs, but they're also still bratty and argumentative and exasperated/exasperating, and it's very entertaining. this will fuck you up none percent, and may even make you laugh.

my war is done by @orchisailsa, explicit, di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. another wip, with the first of three chapters posted, but please understand that this chapter is nearly 15k and so fucking good and compelling. li lianhua lives! and returns to find that things have changed in his absence, and perhaps that he has also changed in his absence, and now wants things that he had told himself he didn't mind not even having to lose. bonus: road trip and—delight!—only one room at the inn. also some other stuff that i'm not spoiling, but that made me absolutely gleeful. this is definitely a work in progress, and while i don't think there's anything particularly upsetting in the chapter, it does end on something of a cliffhanger. i personally do not feel that this is an upsetting cliffhanger, given the information about the fic that's presented in the tags, but it is technically a cliffhanger.

awkward paragraph break, but it's also important, i think, to mention the absolutely stunning (and not at all safe for work) companion piece to my war is done, you'd be there calling my name, by saki the cup bearer, who i don't think is on tumblr. it's fucking incredible; i am very decidedly not an artist but i cannot begin to imagine how much effort went into this. just. holy shit.

not unlike him in shape and form by @philologicalbat, explicit, fang duobing/li lianhua. ok look. i fucking love when things are deeply emotionally messy, and this is so emotionally messy. li lianhua who's been attracted to fang duobing and not doing anything about it, then discovering that fang duobing is shan gudao's son and is very much going to do something about it. he wants in this, and he's cunty and manipulative and mean about it, and sometimes also almost sweet, almost tender, and i love that, because i feel like li lianhua is very often an object of desire and very rarely gets to desire. i love how human he gets to be in this fic. this is not a sweet or gentle fic, but it does end in a moderately tender place that is tentatively hopeful, i think.

unbecoming heir by @bettercostume, explicit, di feisheng/princess zhaoling. i am taking your hand in mine and begging you to trust me. i know what this fic looks like. it's noncon and a weird pairing and you might look at it and expect it to go in the obvious direction and: it does not. this fic is so good that it makes me angry. it makes me miserable and everyone in this fic is trying so miserably, miserably hard, and it's fucking devastating. i spent literally thirty minutes earlier today yelling at my wife about it. i cannot rec this fic strongly enough. this is not a happy fic, but it is a good fic. it will absolutely fuck you up. this is very complimentary but also you will be fucked up.

until you are its primary evidence by @ilgaksu, mature, di feisheng/fang duobing/li lianhua. the single most effective use of what is effectively a prologue that i've ever seen in fic, are you kidding me. this fic is nothing at all like what i expected it to be, and is something far better than what i could have imagined. it's fang duobing's point of view, which is a rarity already, and it's so well done, and it allows him so much humanity and so much anger and grace alike. there are so many tricky things about this fic—the prologue, the fact that it's set in the amnesia arc, fang duobing's pov, the fact that it actually addresses canonical disabilities and illnesses without being fucking weird about it, the tension between the three of them—and it's all balanced so well. this has some emotionally heavier moments but ends tentatively happily; tentative only because it's set during the amnesia arc, and, well. we know what comes next.

as a final note: if you wrote one of these fics and feel that i've wildly misinterpreted the emotional tenor of the ending, please message me in whatever way you prefer and i will correct it. i would not normally presume to guess how things are likely hit people, as i am in many ways not anyone's ideal reader, but today it seemed like it was kinder to at least try.

[flamingpudding]

Part 12 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

>>Masterpost >>AO3

<<1 Previous Next

A Mother's Care

Damian knew his family. He had been with all of his siblings long enough to have taken note of all their small habits or antics. But it wasn't only his siblings. He had also learned about his father and Pennyworth. Thus he knew that his father, after learning about Danyal's existence, would attempt to find a way to contact his mother and find out as much as he could about Danyal's live before them.

Damian also knew his mother. Father had contacted her, that alone would have been enough reason for his mother to appear herself sooner or later. Especially since it had been about Danyal. His twin had become a non-existing topic in the league after his death. His mother had never mentioned his twin ever again, it was like Danyal had never existed in the first place. Back then it had irked him but blinded by the way he had been raised then he had followed that unspoken rule. Never talked about and never thought about him during training or missions, never mentioned him to anyone. But in the privacy of his own chambers he would remember and whisper stories to small and hidden animals he had saved about his twin.

That was why he wasn't surprised, unlike Richard who he was supposed to patrol with, when his mother stepped out of the shadows of a building. Now they were free to talk about Danyal again after so many years.

Still he tensed, there were so many things he wanted to tell her after Danyal appeared. So many questions to which he had no answers to. Yet he didn't make a single sound as he became aware of her presence, stopping and merely looking over his shoulder as she stepped into clear view.

Richard was a different matter. He instantly took a protective stance. Placing himself between Damian and her, an arm outstretched as if to prevent Damian from getting closer in case he felt 'stabby' as his brothers liked to put it or perhaps more so to keep her from approaching him. Richiard did tend to become protective at times. Something that Damian hadn't known how to appreciate at first but still understood in a way.

"Habibi."

"Mother."

"Talia."

They were all curt with each other it seemed and Damian simply nodded in her direction. He knew why she was here, for a split second he wondered how far his father was from their location and if Richard had already contacted them. Their coms were on and active, he could hear Drake having an argument with Brown over something trivial. He had muted his own and it did seem like they were unaware of his mothers presence. He side eyed his brother, wondering if he had used a private channel, so as not to alarm everyone of his mothers presence. Even if Nightwing hadn't, Damian was sure that Oracle had already noticed and most likely had notified his father.

"Your father has contacted me."

"We had questions."

Nightwing's head moved minisculely as he looked between Damian and his mother, silently asking if Damian was fine with this. He gave a small nod, inclining his head slightly to indicate that he wanted to take the lead. It was strange, something was off. His mother smiled but it wasn't that knowing smile she would have if she had done something that would make them want to contact her. Rather he caught the small signs of her slight confusion. A change in her voice, the small lift of her eyebrow and the hints of a frown.

She was worried.

"Habibi, what questions do you still have?"

"Why did you never tell me he was still alive?"

In a way Damian was glad that Richard was leaving the talking to him and only kept his protective stance. It was also unusual for his mother to seek him out when he was with someone. He could see a weariness to the way her stance changed slightly and turned to look into the distance.

"Danyal was weak and a weakness to you. He would have never survived. If anyone had known he was still alive he would have just died a second time."

Damian clenched his fists under his cape. That was not enough reason for him, yet he understood the reasoning. He had been raised by the league for the bigger part of his childhood, he knew their views best and had only later learned how wrong some of them were. If he hadn't been sent to his father and grown with his brothers, would he have accepted that reasoning better?

"Why didn't you say anything after I left?"

His eyes widened slightly under his mask as he saw the smile his mother was giving him as she turned to face him again. Fondness clearly showed in her eyes, a smile he hadn't seen since his twin and him had been small children. It was a smile that had disappeared with time when their grandfather had instructed them to start with the twins training. "Danyal was weak but smart."

Silence followed her statement and he mused over her words, glaring at the ground as he did so. Of course his twin was smart, the only fault Danyal ever openly displayed was his inability to kill.

"My baby bird." He looked up at his mother as she broke the silence. "Danyal changed after his revival but even then, I had faith. Besides I knew from the moment I lowered him into the Pits that you would one day find him again. Nothing truly stays a secret forever."

"So why didn't you bring him to Bruce then?" His head snapped to Nightwing, for a moment he had forgotten about his elder brother's presence and it appeared that his brother's question would not get answered. Damian watched as she shook her head and stepped back. They would not receive an answer to this question.

"What about Danyal's scars, the ones he hadn't possessed before?" The question slipped out before he could stop it. It was irrational to ask his mother of this yet he hoped to get an answer. In accordance with what his father had told them before. It hadn't been league experimentation that gave his twin new scares. Yet his father had mentioned that his mother had also kept an eye on Danyal from time to time.

Surely she must at least know something about them. Her facial expression hardened and Damians eyes winded minisculely when he saw the meaning behind it. His mother's gaze grew distant as she took another step back from them, slowly merging into the shadows behind her.

"Danyal has gained his own share of enemies in the years away, despite living a mostly normal life. Your brother has even gained a special kind of enemies in the past two years. Do keep an eye out for those suited in white, Habibi. But teal and orange are the ones responsible."

Eyes widening Damian stepped forward, a hand slightly raised to reach out. But Richard's arm prevented him from getting any further as his mother disappeared into the shadows. Distantly he registered how Richard was talking over the coms, relaying what his mother came to personally inform them about. His brother's stance had gone rigid at his mothers last words. His brother must have known what his mother was implying.

It took him a moment but once he composed himself again he attempted to reflect on their conversation.

As he regrouped with the rest of his family, belatedly Damian realized that his mother had not once asked how his twin was fairing or in what state he was in. Instead she had given him a warning. A warning he was going to take seriously. Those suited in white, teal and orange. There must be some information his father had yet to share with the rest of them that Damian would need to dig into. As he eyed his elder brother Damian wondered if he should dig into the information himself or see how much he could get out of Richard before he attempted to question his father. There was something about Danyal's life that his mother, father and eldest brother knew but refrained from directly sharing with him.

His mother did indeed care about him and his brother, her way of showing it was just not the most ideal, at least not in his siblings eyes.

[slowd1ving]

[FANTASMAS] SNIPPET ゜・BLADE NSFW

bro this man drives me INSANEEE

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Tongue leaden, he makes his way to the living room: sinking into the couch while his rubine eyes fix themselves on the door. He loosens the buttons of his shirt, running his tired hands through his inky spills of hair. He’s good at the waiting game; the minutes may drag out infinitely, but he wills himself to sit in silence. 

It’s far past two when you finally stumble in—a long coat bundled over casual clothes that make the tension in his shoulders dissipate slightly. There’s a bag clutched in your hands but no signs of a guitar case. 

Why does he feel so relieved?

You finally notice him: locking eyes, yet not saying anything. His lips press together, then part suddenly.

“Where were you?” It sounds accusatory, and he supposes it is. Don’t tell me what I’m thinking is true. 

“Out,” you reply shortly. His fingers clench around one of the pillows next to him. 

You won’t answer. There’s no point in asking anymore; with gritted teeth, he knows the taste of futility. It seeps bitter in his mouth as he lights the small amber lamp on the coffee table—attempting to numb his mind through the tried-and-true method of reading upon the principles of cement and composites. 

As he hears the steady stream of the shower, his plans go awry. Those same words he’s memorised blur in his vision when his mind conjures you. 

Don’t. 

Where were you?

He’s sliding his book back onto the shelf as your soft footsteps pad out of the bathroom. When his head turns, you’re wearing only a towel: steam still rising from your warm body as you don’t spare him a glance. 

Perhaps it’s fate. 

Perhaps it’s his own fault for getting his hopes up. 

You pass by him—too close, he thinks, you’re much too close—and your bare torso is right there. 

As is the bite-mark that caught his eye earlier. 

When those chromatic eyes trace the expanse of your trapezius muscles, each and every bruise matches the practical constellation he saw littering the guitarist’s body. The dips in your arms, the specific shade of tinted lips you’d sported, each valley and plane of the guitarist’s body—all pointed to the two being one and the same. 

His chest is impossibly taut; only when you clear your throat does he realise he’s standing in the doorway. A fitting Cerebus to this household—if he could, he’d keep you here forever and not let anyone else in. 

“Do you have a problem?” you ask, and it’s the perfect, tired pitch that just about stirs his inky spills of hair and makes his eyes heavy with lust. 

“Maybe,” he accedes in his own low voice, too busy wondering how your songs would taste to notice you getting slightly closer. 

No, that’s a lie. He notices—feeling and seeing the small wisps of vapour still cling to you from your shower  (and now him). He inhales, slowly savouring the unique flavour of you: burnt sugar curling honey-sweet from your lips, the shower gel he knows you just randomly grabbed—it’s the one he uses too, the faint tendrils of sweat and steam and lotion that each have their own distinct tang. 

His nose is level with yours: he can feel the faint fan of particles that brush across him. It’s not that which causes his nails to dig into his palms, but rather the quirk of your brow as you ever-so-slightly raise it. 

“What—no girls to warm up your bed and cure your boredom?” 

It’s a question that could insinuate two meanings. First, that you’re simply mocking him and his previous activities. The second implies that he’s desperate enough to seek you out. 

“No fellow Trailblazer to warm yours?” he bites out. Question for a question—and perhaps he’s slightly sick for enjoying how your eyes widen in abrupt shock. 

“Does that matter?” It’s almost like a game at this point—defences and hackles raised, inching to total annihilation by inquiry. Maybe you’ve realised it’s futile to deny it; a frown settles on your face with a matching glare. After all, for the average student, coming across a member of the bands—Knights of Beauty, Galaxy Rangers, the Family (to name a few)—isn’t a big deal. 

But he’s not the average student. 

“Yeah,” he breathes. “It really does.”

[the-eternal-child]

Just noticed something...

This part of Iron Flame noting how Riders are usually discouraged from politics and are discouraged from keeping their family seats.

Xaden's grandfather who was Sgaeyl's former rider was said to have died without making it out the quadrant. We know assassination attempts on students with powerful parents happens. So maybe this was an assassination carried out because of the power dynamics mentioned above. The future Duke of Aretia being a rider? Bonded to one of the strongest dragons out there?! It's what I'm thinking because why else mention the fact that he died while in the school? Info drops like these are purposeful.

My first question is timeline wise... WHEN did he have Fen 🤣🤣?!! I'm assuming he wasn't married since you can't get married until you leave... Unless he was married before entering the quadrant. Maybe marriages don't play that much of a part in the legitimacy of heirs for the Tyrrish 🤷🏾‍♀️.

Next question is, was this a case like Aaric? He found out what was going on and decided having a dragon would help the effort to fight the venin?

It brings me back to my questions in a previous post wondering about how much the Tyrrish know.

They're described through out the series as having been the last to join the unification, seen as troublesome or prone to unrest by Navarrian leadership, the Tyrs describe themselves as being 'loyal to their own' which makes me think of the kind of cultural identity people have when they're discriminated against...

It seems like the Tyrrish have been aware of the fate of the continent for a long time - or maybe only their leadership? They maybe have always had issues with Navarrian rulership decisions and being last to the party of unification and objecting to things would give them the reputation of being 'too proud' or 'thinking they're too good to submit to the king'.

Maybe Fen grew up being aware why his father died and decided to try another route to change. Let us become our own country so we can deal with this problem ourselves.

And the Navarrian top brass like Markham were just waiting to finally have a reason to drop the hammer on the Tyrrish people. Crushing a rebellion is one thing... But to raize a capital city to the ground?! A city described as having been beautiful?

Seems like a purposeful psychological blow to the people. Very publicly defame your beloved leader, take out almost everyone affiliated even loosely with the rebellion planning - Liam's father's execution even though he wasn't involved, and I bet he wasn't the only family member to get that treatment - they'd even wanted to execute the damn children! Cripple their financial centre by burning the capital, which would give them something else to focus on in the years to come, trying to rebuild their lives!

They humbled them, invalidated the claim they fought for, crippled them financially and painted a target on their back for the disdain of the rest of the kingdom. Amber Mavis was literally described as 'one of the good ones' because her family didn't take part in the rebellion!

Jesus fking christ!! Someone stop me! Cue 'make it stooooopp!!' screams like Jeremiah 😅😅

The more I think about this damn series the more insidious things start to look, the more glaring Navarre's crimes. The Tyrrish are entitled to freaking reparations man 😭😭!!!

[opiopal]

•All I wanted was bread•

1

(Hey guys, this is the first part of my TSL Obey Me fanfic! of course this is only the introduction, the characters included in this is simply you(mc), Luke, and Simeon, the brothers are simply mentioned. I will be keeping the Mc gender neutral and will only vaguely describe things like clothing and such. I apologize if the writing for Simeon isn’t the greatest since I unfortunately don’t know his character like I want to:(

I also want to apologize in advance if this isn’t up to anyone’s expectations! I haven’t actually sat down and wrote anything in about a year, so I’m sorry if anything I’ve written may be a little disappointing)

Once there was a vast kingdom, split into seven pieces, devided evenly amongst Seven lords. Seven brothers.

The first and the eldest being the Lord of Corruption. An arrogant and prideful man, always scheming and plotting. Despite maintaining his own land almost flawlessly, he is never one to be questioned nor critiqued.

The second born is the Lord of Fools. Greedy and very determined. He will and has gone to great lengths to get what he wants, often disregarding the people around him, even the people of his own land.

The third born is the Lord of Shadow. a shy yet envious man, often hiding himself away from the world. Wishing and wondering. Finding comfort in his own chambers.

The fourth born would be the Lord of Masks. upon first glance, he is viewed to be a respectable, well balanced individual. Yet his bad temper often leads to destruction, and in most cases, death.

The fifth is the Lord of Lechery. A dirty minded fiend, always attached to a mirror, most would assume he would be much to consumed in his lust to do much of anything. But alas, he prevails.

The sixth lord is the Lord of Flies, a man who acts as if he has been starved of all nutrients since he was a child, a man with an appetite that can never be quite satisfied.

The seventh and final lord is the Lord of Emptiness. The lord that is the least present of his brothers. Not much is known about him, all that can be assumed is that underneath his monotoned expression, may hide secrets that are not to be desired.

Though our story doesn’t begin with these lords. But instead within the land of the Lord of Fools, on a struggling, kind peasant, and their family.

•

•

•

•

As the sun shines in through your window, you groggily sit up, rubbing your face in a meek attempt to wake yourself up further. Looking around the room you are met with the familiar sight of it all. One crummy writing desk in the corner, a window with glass that needs cleaning, worn down wooden floors, and a small familiar bed across from your own with a familiar sleeping boy tucked under the covers.

Your house is small, very small. Only having two rooms, A bedroom and a kitchen. Which may have been more manageable if it was only you, but you share the place with your two brothers. Your older brother Simeon, and your younger brother Luke. Though they aren’t your brothers by blood you all love each other the same, you had met Simeon when you were but a child, and Luke’s mother was taken by illness when he was only a few months old, you and Simeon both had promised her to take care of him.

You carefully crept out of bed, making sure not to wake Simeon, who slept only about a foot away from you, and making sure to avoid the creaky floor boards to avoid waking Luke as well. Quickly yet still quietly you toss off your sleepwear and slip into your day clothes, throwing on your tattered shoes you quickly make your way into the kitchen and begin your usual routine.

First, you light the stove with the embers of the previous night, once the fire is lit you put a pot of water on the stove to boil. Then you quickly grab a pitcher that had collected water from the leaky ceiling, along with a wicker basket and head outside, before watering the garden you pluck and pull anything that had finally ripened, you fill the basket the best you can then water quickly. Hearing the water boiling from outside the kitchen window, you head back inside and set the basket on the counter, you adjust the pot to keep it from boiling over and add in enough oats to feed the three of you, then you-

“Mc, up early as usual I see,”

Immediately your autopilot comes to a halt as you turn your head and see Simeon, adjusting his shirt around his waist as he steps out. You give him a smile. “Of course, I could hardly sleep with the sun in my eyes,” He lets out a half awake giggle and moves further into the kitchen and looks through the basket, “ah, I see our leeks are flourishing, but our berries aren’t doing as well,” he says as he gives you a look. you sigh,

“I know, I wish that scare crow would actually work.”

“I would assume it would work best if you didn’t feed the crows,” Simeon says almost in a teasing way, you shoot him a dirty look.

“I don’t feed them! I just- happen to toss out things we don’t need whenever they’re around. That’s all.”

You know you really shouldn’t feed the crows, and you know that you shouldn’t name them, nor pet them, nor even interact with them period. But you just can’t help yourself! They’re only eating the berries off your bushes because they’re hungry, and if you yourself were a bird you would appreciate a free meal from someone every now and again. And they are all just such.. silly birds, how could you not simply adore them?

Simeon of course knows this, and in response chuckles, but doesn’t press further on the topic. Instead he begins to help you with breakfast, taking over your place at the stove to let you get out a loaf of bread to cut.

You glance over at Simeon as you do so, he looked tired. “Did you get to do any writing last night?” You ask, “yes actually, but only a small bit,” he answers with his usual smile, “I figured as much,” silence fills the room until you speak up again, not looking at him as you reached and grabbed a few bowls from the cupboard.

“Did you hear back from any of the shops or printers,”

“No, Mc, not yet.”

“You should go down there today after work.”

“I’ll see if they’re open today,”

“They’re always open.”

“Mc it’s fine, I really don’t mind it.”

“No, it’s not fine, they’re printing and selling your books and you haven’t gotten as much of a coin from any of them,”

“Mc..”

“Your name is on it! You poured your heart and soul into your stories and yet they refuse to pay you for it! It’s unfair and you know it is! And not to mention it would help us! We get taxed so much for only breathing and we hardly have any money for food,”

Simeon sighs as you hand him the bowls for him to scoop the oats into, he is a writer, it’s his passion, a passion that is loved by nearly everyone in every land, and you are very passionate about him getting paid for it.

He places a hand on your shoulder gently as he sets a full bowl of oats onto the counter,

“Mc, my writing is a thing I do for fun and only fun, I appreciate that you want this to be fair for me, but I don’t see much point in trying to force money out of people that would never do such a thing.”

You sigh, putting your hand over his as you look at him, “You’re to humble for a place like this,” he gives you a smile as he lowers his hand from your shoulder, before he can open his mouth to say more a creek of the floorboards catches your attention. Simeon turns his head to look as you simply look past him, there stood luke in the door frame, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Oh! Good morning Luke,”

Simeon says as you turn and grab a bowl and some bread, setting them both down at the table as Luke sits down, you look down at him as you gently fix his hair by running your fingers through it, working out the knots, “how did you sleep?”

“Good, what were you two talking about? It looked serious,” your face scrunches slightly as you look away, you never really liked to involve Luke in your and Simeon’s issues, especially if money was of the topic. He was only ten, both you and Simeon believed he shouldn’t worry about things like that. Simeon speaks up before you, “oh nothing, we were just talking about our schedule for today,” you pause and realize that’s the one thing you hadn’t sorted out yet!

“Oh! Right,”

You take a seat at the table after grabbing your own bowl, you quickly cover the schedule for the day, Simeon will take Luke with him to work for the day, Simeon is working a slower job today so he is able to monitor and help Luke with his schooling, you will also head off to work and work till about 2pm, Simeon and Luke will be done at 3 and so you will wait for them, then the three of you will go down to the market and purchase was you can then return home, you’ll stay with Luke for the rest of the day as Simeon goes off to the printers with his most recent writing.

It’s the same as any day, it always is, the most that changes is who has Luke for the day, who’s boss will be alright with a young boy hanging around. But, it’s still oddly comforting to talk as if there as been a change, as if the plan is any different from the day before.

•

Of course the day goes exactly as planned. You show up at work, you had landed a good job cleaning floors for a richer women, you worked quickly and quietly. Avoiding any guests coming in and out of the estate and maybe pausing occasionally to talk with other cleaners. You watched the time constantly, just wanting to be finished with it all.

The second the clock struck 2 you immediately put the given cleaning supplies away and get your payment for the day. It wasn’t the greatest, but it’s the most money you’ve made in one day in a long time. You step out into the busy streets and make your way through the crowd, dodging bodies, carts, and barrels, walking around a little mindlessly. Eventually after about an hour and a half you spot Luke and Simeon, you wave to get their attention and the three of you set off to the market.

•

While there, you feel a tug at your sleeve and look down at Luke, he points over to a bakery near by, “Mc, do you think we could go inside? I don’t want anything I just want to go look,” You give him a smile and a nod before leaning over and nudging Simeon, “we’ll be back in a minute, I’m just going to take Luke to go look at the bakery across the street,” he nods as Luke reaches and grabs your hand, excited, Luke practically drags you along with rough the street and inside the small building.

It smelled fanatic inside, but than again it was also very warm from the ovens just in the other room. Luke let go of your hand quickly and began to look around as you waited by the door and kept an eye on him. Eventually you had glanced out the open door and back out into the street and spotted Simeon, but he was talking with someone.

Your brows furrowed as you tried to get a better look, the person looked like a mail carrier, but was a lot cleaner and in nicer clothing, from your guess the person had only approached Simeon a few moment ago before giving him a stern look and handing him a letter. You watched as the person basically spun on their heel and strutted away, which was more than just odd.

You quickly grab Luke, buying him a small cupcake just as a little treat, and heading back out and over to Simeon quickly, the closer you got you could tell the letter was almost as well dressed at the person that handed it over. you come to a halt next to him, looking over his shoulder, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach as you notice a familiar crest in the wax of the stamp.

•

•

•

You and Simeon both sat in the kitchen, staring at the open letter that you must’ve read at least twenty times now in disbelief. It was only you two, Simeon had sent Luke to bed early after eating dinner so you two could both assess wether or not this letter from the lords themself was good or bad news.

And it was incredibly good.

“You have to go,” you say after a long moment of silence, Simeon looks over with his brows raised,

“What?”

“Simeon, you have to accept this!” A smile comes to your face as you grab the letter again, reading a part of it aloud.

“-The Lord of Shadow has taken a liking to your writing, and as a result is offering you a job as his lordships personal writer.-“

You raise a finger up as you skim ahead again, looking over at him with a smile,

“And not to mention you’re being offered free housing within the palace!”

You start pacing back and forth, rereading the letter repeatedly once again, Simeon’s face is a mix of emotions.

“Well… I could think on it-“

You interrupt him without thinking, stopping your movements,

“You should take Luke with you,”

“What?”

“You should take him with! He could get a proper education! A proper bed to sleep in! Good clothes!”

He raises his brows and a smile comes to his face before dropping again,

“But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, won’t you want to come with us?”

You pause as you set the letter back in front of Simeon.

“I.. would be content with staying here,”

“Mc!”

“Well- think about it,”

You sit back down as you turn to look at him, holding one of his hands,

“Will they be more willing to accept housing two people or three? Luke, is a child, it would be understandable if you didn’t want to go anywhere without him. I’m an adult, who would serve no overall purpose. I want the best for you two, and if that means I have to stay then I’m fine with that.“ you glance away for a moment before turning back to him “and.. I don’t want the fact that I wouldn’t be with you to stop you from accepting this job and getting out of this place.”

He frowns as he squeezes your hand, gently pulling you into a hug which you accept. You both stay there for a while before he speaks again, pulling away,

“And you have confidence you’ll be able to take care of yourself?”

“Of course,”

He sighs, looking away as he thinks.

Eventually he nods, giving your hands another squeeze,

“Alright, I’ll do it, and I’ll take Luke with me.”

You give him a smile before basically leaping at him to give him another hug.

•

The next morning, you helped the both of them pack what little possessions they had. Though yes, it hurt to know that you may not see them again in… a long time, You were excited and happy for them, and also very anxious at the same time. But still, you pushed away your fears and sucked it up, all having breakfast together for the last time before a tearful goodbye. Luke was practically wrapped completely around your waist as he sniffled and cried, you wiped his tears away with your thumbs as you promise him that it won’t be the last time you’ll see each other.

•

As you sit in the garden by yourself, you stare out into the sky. Already the silence of the house feels like to much, and it’s hardly even been an hour. Part of you wanted to go with and demand that if Simeon is to work there than both you and Luke are to stay with him. But then that would ruin this opportunity for him, and you wouldn’t want to be so selfish.

You let out a sigh as you start to lift yourself up to stand, but then you hear the flutter of wings and a caw next to you, as you turn your head you see one of the crows that you feed. You sit right back down in your original position as you reach a hand out to the crow, in which it lovingly nuzzles its small face against your fingers.

“Good morning, silly boy.. I suppose you’re hungry.”

[luimagines]

Ooh! I remembered the idea that fell out of my head!

A sequel to the “boys lost a bet” one where Reader figured them out after watching their attempts at flirting. Reader then decides to attempt to fluster them until they confess (even if it takes weeks) or in poor Sky’s case until they decide they’ve messed with him enough since he accidentally confessed during his attempt.

- Glitter, slowly recovering from surprise and having fun spamming your inbox in between bits of homework ✨

OOoooooo!! Cute idea! I'm on it!

I’m also... going to take a few creative liberties here and just say that it’s after the event. Mostly because it’s not going to be that way for a few boys. A.k.a I already had it written before I reread your request and realized that it didn’t quite fit in.

Masterlist

You can read the first part right here.

Content under the cut!

Sky

When you left to finish up your patch work, Sky made his way back to the game. He seemed to sway on his feet somewhat with a bright, if dim witted, smile on his face.

Sky collapsed on the ground next to Wild and sits criss cross apple sauce. His jaw lands in his hands without opening his eyes. “So... I did it.”

“We saw.” Hyrule blinks owlishly. “I didn’t think that would happen.”

“You weren’t the only one.” Warrior rubs his jaw and stares at the number he’s just rolled. “Not where I thought the odd would lie to be honest.”

Sky giggles, too happy and giddy to be of much help to anyone. “Is it my turn again?”

“Uhhhh...” Wild picks up the dice. “I think it’s mine? We all stopped to watch you fall on face. But you didn’t do that.”

“I didn’t do that.” Sky agree happily.

Wild looks around for anyone who is willing to stop him from taking his turn but no one does. “I’m betting fifteen rupees for anything higher than a eight.”

“Twenty for anything lower than eight!” Four leans forward already back in the game.”

Wind cackles just under his breath. “Forty for anything lower than four.” 

The blacksmith gives him a dirty look.

Time says nothing, not willing to bet anything this round. He was glad on two accounts that Sky lost the previous roll. For one, it obviously went very well for the young lad and Time is glad that it worked out in the end. But the second reason speaks a little louder in the back of his head. Time had bet just one above Sky. It saved him from losing the bet and taking the punishment.

The Old Man nudges Sky with his elbow and gestures with his head away from the group. 

Sky smiles back easily and gets up without complaint. Which is more than what Time’s joints can say.

“You wanted to talk?”

Time leans against a tree and raises an eyebrow. “And what were expecting to come out of that when you went?”

Sky’s face lights up in a blush again. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head but he can still save if. He can play dumb. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

Ok, maybe not. Sky grins awkwardly. “I was thinking I would trip over myself , look like an idiot and then they’d laugh and wave me away.”

“And what happened?” Time asks, as if he wasn’t watching with one hundred percent of his attention like the rest of the group was.

Sky’s blush darkens and he toes the dirt beneath his boot. “I got a kiss out of it.”

Time smiles like a proud father. “What else?”

“I may have... told them that I like them... and they said they liked me too.” Sky admits quietly.

“Good. I was wonder when you two were going to catch on and do something about it.”

Sky’s head snaps up to face Time head on, embarrassment completely foregone to make room for the shock that followed. “...What?...”

Time gets off of the tree and reaches forward, patting Sky on the head and ruffles his hair for good measure. “You’re good kids. I’m happy for you.”

“...What?...”

“Just don’t do anything to get the both of you in trouble at the end of the day.”

“Wait, Time you KNEW?!?”

Twilight

Twilight waited just as you told him to. He didn’t even think of moving. He couldn’t think. Period.

You had somehow managed to put his entire thought process on halt.

He couldn’t hear that you were saying to the others guys but when you returned, you had a blinding smile and you clapped in delight. Twilight couldn’t help but feel happy on your behalf. “Did it all go well?”

“I oh so happened to clear your schedule for tomorrow in the process.” You inform him, looking rather proud of yourself.

“Did you now?” He raises an eyebrow. Now Twilight knows that feels better. Because the words comes easy and the conversation isn’t that different than it would have been that morning or the day before.

“Yes.” You sit down next to him and unhesitatingly put your head on his shoulder. “I would very much like to occupy that time slot if you’d let me.”

Twilight freezes. He’s been chosen. He can not so much as move a muscle or else if would throw you off. Like being a cat’s chosen spot for a nap, you mustn’t move. It’s illegal. 

“Do you have something in mind?” Twilight speaks on baited breath. He might be able to think of something to fill the time. If you’re asking to spend time with just him, then there’s many things that Twilight can think of to entertain you. There’s no corner of his heart that he wouldn’t turn over just to make you smile for a fraction of a second.

“Not really.” You admit and turn your head to look over at him. “Do you have any ideas? I’m not picky.”

Twilight hums, slowly wrapping his arm around you. Is this ok? Would you push him off? Well, you put yourself there, surely this isn’t crossing any boundaries.

“I have a few.” He admits, not wanting to jump on the chance like the excited puppy he feels himself becoming. If he had his tail it would be wagging like crazy. 

Sometimes he hates the traits the wolf had brought out of him and then he realize that if anything, the wolf itself was brought out first.

You poke his cheek and grin, startling him from his thoughts. “I mean, you’ve been thinking of stuff for a while now.”

“Well yes, but I was never sure if you wanted-” Twilight pauses and looks over to you. “....Yes. I like spending time with you.”

“Mhm.” You smirk, running your hand over the one that holds you. “Is that all?”

Twilight clears his throat, already feeling his bravado slipping. “What do you mean?”

“So all those little things you’ve done were... oh I don’t know... because you were the hero to save the day?” You looks away. It was possible...But at the same time, if he correct in guessing what you’re talking about... It’s not true.

“I see...” Twilight bite his lip. “And what made you suspect my feelings?” 

You seem to relax further into him and sigh. “It had to do with Wolfie. Now I love the dog, he’s a sweetheart and a good boy, but every time you came back and someone mentioned him, you would look at me. Like you were jealous.”

Twilgiht chokes on his spit.

“I couldn’t help but begin to ask myself if it was too good to be true.” You smiles shyly. “And then I asked Warrior and he said it was a clear as day. I didn’t want to take his word for it so I asked Time... who said almost the exact same things.”

“Last time I tell the Old Man anything.” Twilight mutters under his breath.

You laugh. ”So I was just waiting to see if you would do anything about it.”

“And if I never did?” He asks, afraid of the answer. Is it selfish of him? Yes. The right to do would be to move on, no matter if it hurts to hear or not.

“Hey, who just cleared your schedule, you or me?” You push him lightly. 

Twilight smiles. “Alright. Then let me show you around tomorrow then.”

“You better.”

Legend

Given his very open and shy way of trying to flirt with you, you didn’t think it was that much of a guess that there was some genuine feeling within it. So you got a bit more liberal with how you interacted with the Hero of Legend.

This did not help him in any way or form.

You had taken to walking closer to him, trying to ease your way into being beside him. When he seemed to be calm enough with your presence you tried talking to him.

That took longer than you thought it would.

It seems that Legend was more self conscious than you thought. Every time it came to you, he would clam up and try to avoid eye contact. Something about the way he flushed bright red each and every time told you that he was still thinking about the bet he lost.

It was cute. If annoying.

But you weren’t about to give up just yet!

When he was able to hold a conversation with you once more, you got a little bit closer.

Until one day you just bit the bullet and grabbed his hand.

Legend jerked it back as if you had burned him and hid it away from you. All conversation had died in that moment. And he was once again avoiding you. It was a miracle that he didn’t straight up run away.

You pout. Well that was disappointing. “Legend... did I do something wrong?”

“N-no.” Legend bites his lip. “Don’t worry about it.”

You worry about it anyway. You look at your hand, trying to figure out why he rejected it. “Was there something wrong with my hand?”

“Of course not.” Legend shakes his head, still looking down. “It was very soft.”

“Well you coulda fooled me. You certainly didn’t react that way.” You mutter.

You hadn’t intended for him to hear you, but he flinches. “Sorry.”

Slowly, he pulls his hands back from where they were. “I’m sorry.” He repeats himself. “It was pure reflex.”

“It’s fine.” You sigh, feeling like you might have ruined everything. You keep walking, but this time with your hands kept firmly by your sides.

You both walk in silence for the a few more moments. You’re lamenting internally about your ruined chances and how you might have been wrong this entire time about him. 

Legend was also busy kicking himself. Every now and then he would look over your way. He was nervous and feeling dumb. The answer was so simple and so genuine but he was afraid. But of what, he couldn’t tell you.

He knew that there was only one way to really fix this.

He huffed and puffed but managed to bring himself to do it.

Legend reaches over and pinches your sleeve. You hum and look down.

Legend moves his hand and slips his grip over your wrist before it shifts to hold your hand. You hold his back and look over to him with a grin.

He still can’t meet your eyes. “Just warn me next time.”

“Aww~! You do like me.” You swings your hands back and forth with a blinding smile.

“I do.” Legend smiles softly even if he still struggles to meet your eyes. “Just don’t tell anyone else.”

“Right, right.” You giggle. “Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Tough Guy.” 

Wind

Wind had been avoiding you a bit after the bet he lost. You didn’t know why. You thought everything was fine but he wasn’t even able to look you in the eye anymore. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

You missed your best friend.... Well your best friend was actually waiting for you to return home but within the group, Wind was your best friend and you missed him.

“Wind won’t talk to me.” You pout as you walk next to Warrior for the day. “I don’t know why.... Is it because I kissed his cheek?”

“Yes.” Warrior replies without missing a beat. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know.”

“It’s not?”

“Nope.” Warrior smiles easily. “He just needs to think some stuff through. But if continues bothering you, you should talk about it.”

You nod, falling silent once more. That made sense.

“Can’t he think faster?” You mutter, not expecting a response for that particular question.

Warrior hears it anyway and laughs. “We’re about to stop for lunch soon. Why not just talk to him then?”

You nod again and wait.

True to his word, Warrior was right to guess that you would get a break soon. You caught up to the ones at the front of the group and waited for those at the back to catch up.

When Wind finally made his way to the group, you b-lines toward him. His somewhat concerned gaze made you slow your step and your confidence tanked.

“Um...” You rubbed your arm, ignoring the stares of the entire group. They seemed incredibly invested in this for some reason. “Link... Can we talk?”

Wind also seemed nervous but he nods, ready to follow where ever you lead him.

When you get far enough from the group, you take in a deep breath hoping that no one followed you. You looked at him and take in the way he fidgets and avoids looking at you head on. He’s already flustered if the pink on his cheeks is anything to go by.

Warrior said to talk to him, but maybe you should have thought about what you wanted to say first. How do you started this?”

“I’m sorry.”

Wind snaps his face to meet your eyes head on. He looks shocked.

“I didn’t mean... Did I make things awkward?” You bite you lip. “Is it my fault?”

“Oh... Um...No...” Wind looks down again and scratches the back of his neck. “You didn’t make things awkward.”

“Well I feel awkward.” You admit. “You don’t talk to me. You run away from me. And I think it’s because I kissed your cheek... So... I’m sorry.”

“That’s not-!” Wind chokes on his spit. He jumped to correct you but had breathed down the wrong pipe in the process. He starts coughing up a storm and you pat his back to try and soothe the pain that no doubt forms. “That’s not it.”

You frown. All the signs point to that you made him uncomfortable. Shouldn’t you apologize for it? It’s technically your fault that you’re here. You tell him as such.

“No, no...” Wind flusters further. “I was trying to not make you feel uncomfortable.”

You don’t understand what he’s trying to get at. ”...What?”

Wind bite his lips. his eyes dart back and forth and you see he’s two seconds from pacing back and forth. “I just-! It was.... cute.. and nice... and soft..” His voice tapers off into a whisper the more he speaks. “I liked it more than I thought I would... and I didn’t want to make things weird by wanting to do it myself.”

You think you understand less. “...What?”

Wind groans and kisses your cheek without asking. “There. I did it. That’s what.”

You freeze- feeling your own blush form. Your finger tips go to touch the spot before you explode into giggles. “Oh... that’s not so bad.”

Wind acts like he just got smacked. “...It’s not?”

“Warrior was right.”

“... don’t say that. Ever again.”

You laugh louder and take his hand. “You’re silly.”

“I know.”

“But it was nice.” You grin and begin to lead him back to the group. “Now stop avoiding me, ok? I miss you.”

“I think I can do that.”

Warrior

“Warrior, calm down.” Four puts his hands out to placate the other boy. “What did they even say?”

“For me to know and you to never find out.” Warrior grins, tossing a solid red rupee on the growing pile of bets. “Take my cut. I bet a seven.”

“What does that have to do with-”

“Thank you! Be back soon!” He hollers, doing his best to run back to you now that he knows you’re waiting for him.

When he returns, you waiting with your hands on your hips and a unknown gleam in your eye. You seem to know what you’re doing. Warrior feels drawn to your gaze and he forces himself to slow down. “Ok, what is it?”

You grin and turn on your heel, not giving him a verbal response. You gesture your fingers in a come hither motion and Warrior follows like the sap he is.

You lead him away form the group, further into the tree line and away from both prying eyes and sensitive ears.

You turn to Warrior and wiggle your eyebrows.

Not sure how to take this change in developments, Warrior finds himself flustered but eager. Still, your change in demeanor is intriguing and hot. He blushes deeply.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what I have planned.” You say calmly, steeping into his personal space.

He gulps. “Yes.”

“And I’m sure you’re wondering if this has anything to do with what you very bravely decided to say to my face not too long ago.” You grin putting your hands on his forearms.

“Maybe.” He licks his lip unthinkingly. You’ve pinned his arms to his side. He’s willing trapped himself to you. Warrior has no idea where you’re going with this, but you have his full attention.

“And I’m also sure that you’ve been watching me a for a while now.” Your hands travel up his his arms and over chest. You’re being very brave yourself if you had to be honest. 

You’re purposefully going slow. Warrior assumes it’s just to be even more tantalizing than you already are and it’s making him inpatient. But you’re really just testing the waters of how far he’ll let you go.

“Was I that obvious?” Warrior places his hand on your hips now that you’ve freed them. He pulls you flush against him. 

“Maybe.” You’re eyes go wide with desire. Perhaps you’re the one he’s been waiting for this whole time. 

Your hands travel up his chest and rest on his shoulders. Warrior leans into your face. Your noses brush together in an hesitant dance. 

You can find it in yourself to grow bashful as Warrior has. You lean into it as well, running your hands even higher, cradling his head as you go. He hums in satisfaction. “...Admittedly I’m less certain about this.”

“About what?” He says quietly, slowly swaying with you in his arms.

“This. Us.” You reply in the same quiet tone.

“...And why’s that?” He’s calm even as he trouble looking you in the eye.

You have to think about it. This feels right. This feels good. Why is that you feel like something is missing?

“I can wait.” Warrior says after a moment of your silence. “I’ll always wait for you.”

You hum for a moment longer. You don’t want that.

You kiss him.

Hyrule

“Oh Hyruule~” You called, borderline skipping to his side.

You needn’t say anything else. Hyrule is already blushing before a single words leaves your lips.

The image seems to make you giggle and come close. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Hyrule smiles back at you but he struggles to meet your eyes. He hates how flustered he’s gotten around you. As if he couldn’t be more obvious.

“How are you today?” You take his arm and start walking with him.

Hyrule doesn’t know how exactly to deal with this turn of events. He’s already starting to lose his nerve, “I’m fine.”

You both walk in comfortable silence after that. At least, he’s sure that you think it’s comfortable since you smile never left your face. Hyrule can feel his nerves jump all over his skin and he’s not sure how he’s going make a fool out of himself this time.

“I’ve bene thinking.” You say and Hyrule gives you his attention without questions.

“About what?”

“A while ago you came to me and called me angle.” You smile up at him. “Remember that?”

As if he’s allowed himself to forget about it. Although he felt his insides curl up and die from the embarrassment, you had kissed his cheek. Even if he still cringes at the thought of his awkwardness, he had to admit, it was worth it.

“I do.” He admits. He remembers the entire thing beat for beat. It’s the only thing he can think of as of late.

“I still think you were very sweet.” You lean you head against him.

Hyrule’s heart starts to beat faster. He hopes you don’t notice. “Than you? I think?”

“Can I tell you something in return?” You give him a dazzling smile in return. Hyrule nods, unable to form words any longer. You poke his cheek. “I think that you’re a very good person. I want you to know that you’re very important to me. And that I like you very much.”

Hyrule nods, biting his lip harshly. Does he say he likes you back? Isn’t that just confessing? But you said you liked him. As friends, he’s sure.

“You’re overthinking.” You pout. “I just said that I like you and you’re not going to say anything.”

“Uh... I like you to.” Hyrule strangles out. “You’re important to me too. I treasure you.”

You pause and grin. “In that case, would you be willing to go with me to town tonight? I heard that had a great place to get some food at and I wanted to try it.”

His heart melts. You’re so precious. “Of course. I’d love to go with you.”

You jump in place excitedly and move in to kiss his cheek again. “Great! It’s a date!”

You dash away with wink and a throw of your hips. Hyrule watches you move away from him. He’s vaguely ware that his jaw is open and that he pays a little to much attention to the way you move, but you’ve once again mamabged to catch him off guard.

He thinks he loves you.

A sigh leaves his lips before he can stop himself. How can he deny you of anything? If you wanted him to go with you to into town he would have done so in a heart beat- wait-

Date?!

Time

Something changed between you and Time after that day.

At first you didn’t want to think too much about it. Your crush on the man wasn’t going to get in the way of being peaceable with him So what if he called you pretty and lovely. It have to mean anything. And you’re sure that it was because of that dumb game the boys were playing anyway.

But he’s taken to... being a little more physical with you.

It’s subtle but you’re almost certain that you’re almost always within arms reach of the man.

When you’re walking, he’s there ever so slightly brushing your hand with his as you walk.  If you eating, you’re next to him- almost thigh to thigh. You think you’re even sleeping closer to him nowadays.

The thought makes your mouth go dry.

To make matters worse you think that your crush is only growing more and more obvious. Does he know? Is that why he’s doing this? Or are you doing this? That’s a mortifying thought.

“Wait.” Time stops you from going forward.

You freeze in place and looks up at him. “Yes?”

He smiles and leans downwards, reaching just a bit top pluck a wayward leaf from your shirt. The gently tug by your side causes you to hold your breath. Time doesn’t seem to notice the way you hitch your breath. “You had a straggler.” 

“Thank you.” You take the leaf, brushing you fingertips with his. He tilts his head, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. “You’re welcome.”

Time smiles and turns to leave.

You can’t take much more of this tip toe game. You need to get to the bottom of it. Either he takes further or he ceases entirely. You’re heart is going to combust if nothing changes.

“Link.” You grab his hand. “Can I ask you something?”

Now it’s his turn to freeze. “Of course.”

“You once called me pretty.”

“I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

“I did.”

“You once called me lovely.”

“I did.”

“Did you mean it?”

I did.”

You stomp your foot and pull him towards you. You’re entirely sure why you did it. “Why?” You ask him. “You’ve never said that to me before.”

That seems to throw time for a loop. you think you catch his eyeline dip to where your lips ear instead of looking you in the eye. “Because it’s true.”

“And the boys didn’t tell you to do that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“That would be cruel.” Time says. “I may have lost the game that day but I have been tell you that for a while now.”

“Do you mean that?” You lean into his space.

He looks away. You can see the way his jaw clenches.

“Link.” You press. “Would you have told me that?”

He doesn’t answer as quickly as you’d like.

You let him go and sigh- ignoring the hurt you didn’t know it would cause. “Alright.”

You start to walk away but he pulls you back. It’s rougher than he intends and you crash against his chest. “Please.” He says. “I’m not one to speak easily. I...wanted to... But I don’t know if I ever would without the push.”

You hum and rap your arms around his neck. “In that case...Is this ok?”

He nods and chances a kiss to your forehead. “Is this ok?”

“Absolutely.” 

Four

Four was walking on clouds for the rest of the week.

The memory of you kissing his cheek was on replay the entire time. The spot still tingled with the sensation whenever he thought about it. Because of it, he was having harder times concentrating and found himself staring at you from a distance with soft features and smitten gazes.

It was beginning to get on the nerves of those in the know.

“Is anyone going to do something about this?” Hyrule asks quietly, away from ear shot. “He’s been all smiles for days. Was this supposed to happen?”

“Well...” Warrior scratches the back of his head. “Yes and no. Did anyone see up close what they said to him?”

“Nope.”

“I didn’t.”

“Not a clue.”

“I got a picture.” Wild speaks up with an ear to ear grin. “I was hoping someone would notice. I’ve been holding onto this.”

The boy instantly crowd around the boy. “Show us! Show us!” They cry. “We want to know.”

With a smirk, Wild pulls up the photo taken at just the right moment. Your eyes are closed where as Four’s are wide open. Your lips are placed delicately on his cheek. Shock covers the entirety of Four’s face but you couldn’t seem to care less about your actions.

“Oh.” Hyrule clears his throat a bit. “That explains a lot actually.”

Warrior whistles. “No wonder his head has been up in the clouds. I didn’t know the boy scored.”

Wild shuts it off before anyone can get near to see his blackmail treasure. “You’re welcome.”

You jumped next to the boy, startling them all. “Whatcha looking at?”

“AH!” Wild manly screams. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Hyrule snickers at the timing.

“Wild showed us a picture of The Lord of the Mountain, he calls it.” Warrior shrugs, seemingly nonplused by the interruption. “I’ve never seen a creature like it. I wouldn’t be able to tell what it is truly, except a once in a lifetime creature.”

Wild nods in haste. While it was a lie, Wild had shown Warrior a picture of the same creature earlier that week. He licks his lips in an subconscious tell. “Did I show you? I don’t remember.”

You shake your head and lean over to see it.

Wild panics a bit, hoping that you don’t see the picture in the icons in the sides. He pulls it up and you ‘ooo’ and ‘aaa’. “Pretty.”

“Not as much as you.” Four speaks as he passes, not missing a beat.

You jump, not dissimilar to how Wild did moment prior and your attention snaps to the blacksmith as he walks away. “Hey!” You call out, a flushed look to your cheeks. “That’s not fair!”

“But it’s completely true!” He calls back.

“Oh my goodness...” You huff but don’t seem to mind it too much. “He’s been doing this more often even since you all played the stupid game. I have to catch up with him. Very nice, Wild. Thank you for showing me.”

You leave quickly, attempting to catch up with Four. “I can’t believe you, cheater! Didn’t you say that it was only when Legend was nearby-”

“I couldn’t keep myself from being honest.” Four reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together.

The other boys stare in astonishment, watching them get further and further away.

“Oh that’s our fault.” Warrior blinks.

Hyrule and Wild nod in tandem. 

“But they look happy at least.”

Wild

You and Wild walk away for a while. Neither of you say anything until you both find a nice clearing amongst the forest flowers.

“Ooh, pretty.” You beam and let go of Wild to pick some of them up.

Wild watches you blissfully, happy that he hadn’t made a total fool of himself. “We can press them in a book, if you’d like?”

You snap your head back to him and nod. “I used to do that back home with my mother. But I had to stop when she got sick.”

“Yeah?” Wild sits down next to you. “Well we can save the flower in my sheikah slate if you’d like. They’d last longer until we can find a good book to use.”

“You’d let me.” You turn to him and lean in close. “Are you sure?”

Wild narrows in on the distance that remains and nods, swallowing hard. “Of course.”

“You’re very kind.” You smile, watching his every reaction. “And you know... I wanted to ask you something.”

You lean away. Wild breathes as if he hadn’t been able to do that the entire time. “What is it?”

“I wanted to know why the boys told you to flirt with me.” You back your smirk.

Wild pales and finds himself falling backwards. Luckily, he was already on the ground. He manages to catch himself before he lose himself. “Um... I don’t know either.”

“I believe you do.” You answer simply. You don’t look at him, too enthralled with the flowers in front of you. “If only you wouldn’t react that way if you were clueless.”

Wild gulps again. “...They... you know how they can be.” He laughs, trying to play it off. “I think they were trying to pull our legs.”

You hum, and begin to braid the flowers together. “And that has nothing to do with you staring at me more and more?”

Wild pales even further, if it was possible. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. I’m just asking.”

Wild looks away. His blush slowly begins to consume his face. “I can’t help it. You’re just... very pretty... and your skin looks soft... And you are very nice to look at...”

“You’re very nice to look at as well.” You say with a smile, not looking at him.

“I didn’t mean to be obvious.” Wild admits as he scratches the back of his head. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“On the contrary.” You pick up another flower and braid it into your chain. “I quite liked your attention.”

Wild freezes and shifts his vision towards you. “Oh really?”

“Yes.” You say with a smile on your face. “If you haven’t noticed I was trying to look extra pretty whenever you looked my way.”

“Were you now?” Wild leans a little closer to you.

You close the distance and flop backwards. Your head lands in his lap and look up to him with a wide smile. “Absolutely.”

Wild freezes again and slowly- every so slowly, places his hand in you hair, petting you gently. “What else did you notice that I failed to do subtly?”

“You always seemed to want to hold my hand and be near me.” You say confidently. You’re rewarded when Wild loses his nerve to look at you. You’re correct in your statement.

“Anything else?” He tries again.

“You’re very sweet to me.” You continue, placing your finished flower crown at the top of his head. “And I’d very much like to kiss you.”

Wild short circuits. 

You lean up close to his face and grin. “May I?”

“Yes. Don’t even ask.”

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXVI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien could barely hold back his smile. 

Elain was close to his side, pressed against him so that only her skirts were between them. Her one hand was holding onto his own, their fingers linked together and inseparable, while the other was clutching his arm comfortably. She was telling him about Nesta and Feyre, how the two always argued because they were so similar. There was a sparkle in her brown eyes, a brightness that only came when she spoke about those who she loved. 

Beautiful. 

Lucien found his mate particularly stunning when she was unworried and at ease. Loose curls escaped the confines of her braid, and he had to fight the urge to hook the strands of hair behind her pointed ears.

“Do you think that’s why you and Eris don’t get along?” She asked innocently, genuine curiosity clear as she tilted her chin to look up at him. “You’re too much alike?”

Lucien cringed, knowing he had wrinkled his nose in displeasure. He could scarcely remember the last time anyone had compared him with any of his brothers. “Don’t offend me,” he mumbled. 

Elain laughed, the sound as lovely as daybreak. It echoed prettily in the empty corridors of the Forest House, ringing around them just as surely as it did in Lucien’s mind for moments after she had stopped. 

Lucien shook his head with a frown as he remembered that they were walking to the study Eris had claimed as his own decades before he had even been born. He could still recall hiding among the neatly organised bookshelves, escaping to the cosy space even when Beron’s eldest son was not home. “I still can’t believe you told him.” 

Eris had suggested that Elain try and release some of the pent up magic, claiming it was dangerous to do so with no training. While Lucien actually agreed, he was still not sure how he felt about his brother’s steadily increasing involvement in their lives. In two days, they would be back in Velaris, the business with the wedding finally over. He secretly hoped Eris would drop the subject after their departure. Lucien, in any case, could not imagine the Autumn Court male going to the Hewn City despite the promise he had made to work on Elain’s abilities until she became more confident.  

She shrugged, hardly concerned. “I foresee he’ll be a great help to us.” There was a restrained amusement to her words, the feeling trickling down the bond so Lucien could easily sense that she was merely teasing. 

“The number of jokes at your disposal is unmatched,” he said, knocking his shoulder playfully into her side. 

Elain grinned up at him, her dark eyebrow raised in challenge. She opened her full lips to respond, but her expression quickly transformed into one of concern. She pulled him to a stop, her head turning in the opposite direction. 

Lucien was immediately alert, trusting her instincts just as well as his own. His muscles tensed as his ears caught the low sound of shouts coming from the hallway leading to the throne room. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, just above a whisper. He could practically see her analysing the situation, weighing what she knew about Autumn and those that lived within the confines of the Forest House. 

Assassination attempt. 

The thought crashed around in Lucien’s skull for a moment, the familiarity of the feeling returning, a reminder of his past. It had happened before, enough so that Eris had taught him to sleep with his bed pushed to a wall, to ensure that his back was never exposed. He had to get Elain away, wanted to winnow her somewhere she would be safe but had no idea if there was a place secure enough within the court. 

The torches flared around them, bright as the sun, and stayed that way. Lucien balanced Elain as she stumbled with a sudden yelp in her effort to move further from the walls. Embers fell to the stone floors like shooting stars, disappearing almost as soon as they had flickered to life. 

The raw burst of power was one Lucien would have known anywhere. He had, after all, learned how to wield his own abilities at Eris’s side. 

Realisation dawned on him, slower than dripping honey. The shouts continued to travel down the empty hall, and he easily identified the distinct voice of each of his brothers. “If I ask you to stay here, will you?” He addressed his mate, trying to keep the concern from his tone, but failing miserably. 

Elain pressed her lips together, shaking her head slightly, a charming dimple appearing on her pale cheek. “Not a chance.” 

Lucien sighed. He had expected her answer, but was still worried about her well-being. “Just promise you’ll keep your distance.” If Elain was anything like her sisters, he figured she would despise being kept far from the commotion. 

She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “I promise.” It would have been too much to ask for his brothers to be on their best behaviour for a fortnight, Lucien thought coldly. They began to walk once again, this time in the direction of the continued shouts. 

Stay close. 

Lucien hoped the message came across clearly on the bridge between their souls. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Elain, but he knew the trust built between them would have crumbled had he forbidden her from coming with him. As they approached, the muffled shouts became easier to understand, and when they finally turned the corner, they could do nothing but pause and watch.

Eris was loud, his words an angry snarl. “Consider for a moment how easy it would be for me to kill you both and simply be done with this.” He was standing in the middle of Ronan and Felix, using his body to separate them. Taller than both, the span of his arms ensured they stayed away from one another. 

Despite being a courtier and much smaller in size than Ronan, Felix lunged. Lucien sensed Elain’s confusion down the bond, her feelings mirroring his own. He had assumed the two were on good terms, had even witnessed as much during their short time in Autumn. While he knew nothing ever stayed the same in the Forest House, he was surprised by the swift moving game everyone played. 

Eris shoved Felix away roughly, stopping the younger male in his tracks, ensuring that a physical altercation did not begin. 

“Stay out of it,” Felix spat, expression murderous. He whirled on their eldest brother, directing his anger at him instead. Lucien could tell that Eris preferred it, could practically see the way he adjusted his stance in anticipation for things to quickly turn into a more violent direction. 

“Can’t you see he’s itching for a fight, brother.” Ronan called, a slur to his words. It took Lucien a moment to realise that he must have been drunk. “Perhaps he needs to learn a lesson.” 

Felix smiled, looking every bit a snake with fangs. He ran a hand over the sleeve of his opposite arm, a flash of silver appearing at the cuff, a silent message.

Eris seemed to have spotted it just as Lucien had, his entire body pulled taut. He looked like a warrior as he straightened his shoulders. “Enough,” he snapped, flames in his amber eyes, embers falling from the tips of his fingers. On most occasions, the tone would have frightened the rest of his brothers into yielding, but whatever had begun the argument was not so easily settled.  

“Fuck off,” Felix clipped, stepping around Eris and right into Ronan’s line of sight. 

Callum suddenly appeared next to Lucien, winnowing into the space effortlessly. Elain turned to look at him, but he did not even spare her a glance. He sighed loudly, rubbing a hand over his face, the action tired. “What could it be this time?” 

Lucien shook his head, watching the scene continue to unfold in front of him. No weapons had yet been drawn, but the threat was there. 

“Should we do something?” Elain wondered quietly, more to herself than to him and Callum. 

Lucien bit his lip, considering. “We might just make it worse,” he said, knowing from experience how volatile fights between his siblings could become. 

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Ronan threw a wicked stream of fire at Felix, the power strong enough to make the younger male shift on his feet. There were no burns, no fabric singed. It was clearly a warning, one that had Callum inching closer. 

Callum approached the small group just in time for Felix’s answering magic to fly by him, hitting a decorative vase. It fell to the floor and shattered, tiny pieces dusting the stone like snowflakes. Almost like the toll of a bell ringing before a blood duel, the sound had each of his brothers springing into action. 

Lucien watched as Eris was caught in the middle of both Felix and Ronan. The way they hit each other was brutal, and no amount of Callum pulling on any of them was enough to end the fight.

There was more yelling as Eris tried to convince them to stop, but their voices rose over the sound, arguing about something Lucien had no context for. He tried to catch onto any key words, but was unable to piece a clear picture together. 

“Stay here,” Lucien mumbled, stepping away from Elain. She held onto his shirtsleeve, and he added a quick, “please.”

“I don’t think—”

Lucien did not wait for her to finish, winnowing into the fray. She would have asked him not to intervene, and he would not have been able to refuse her. The wind was quickly knocked out of him as Callum was shoved backwards right into his chest, an elbow catching him in the ribs. There was no time for apologies as they all attempted to find purchase on the nearest clothing item, pulling and trying to create distance between Felix and Ronan. 

Lucien heard Elain call out his name, glad that she still remained far, that she had not attempted to move closer for a better look. His relief was short-lived as Felix twisted, throwing all of his body weight at him. 

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Felix hissed as they fell to the ground in a tangled heap. It was low enough that no one else would have heard, the words making Lucien uneasy. 

Exile. 

Felix had been a vicious child, cunning and manipulative and always eager to impress their father. While he and Lucien had been close in age, a few short years separating them, they had never gotten along. The constant comparison had forged competition between them, ensuring that they were never allies. 

Lucien moved roughly, his shoulder hitting Felix so hard he drew blood. The copper scent lingered in the air as he scrambled to his feet, breathing ragged.

Felix stayed on the ground, a scarlet trail falling from his nose and running over his lips. It gave him a wild impression, fire flickering in his gaze. “You bastard,” he snarled, the insult venomous falling from his mouth. Lucien flinched, his eye whirring.

“Enough.” 

The word fell over Lucien, echoing in the space. It was the direct order of a High Lord and there was no other choice but to listen. 

Lucien watched as Felix paled, noticing how the sound of Ronan fighting with Eris stopped immediately. He turned to see their father standing next to Elain, a crown made of oak leaves resting on his chestnut coloured hair. His mate looked small, her hands curled into fists at her sides. She was obviously worried, but she stayed frozen in place, hardly recoiling at the power leaking from the ancient creature near her. 

When it was obvious that he held each of his sons’ attention, he turned a sharp gaze on Felix. “Is that any way to speak when a lady is present?” 

His brother’s lip curled up in anger, as though he were ready to argue. There was blood on his teeth, giving him the appearance of a predator. Beron raised a hand, stopping him before he even started. “Is it, Felix?”

Everyone held their breath, an unnatural silence in the corridor. Lucien’s eyes flicked between the two males and his mate, wondering what he might do if the situation became explosive. “No,” his brother uttered, the word strained, like it was being pulled out of him against his will. 

Eris moved, the shift small, but Beron saw it from the corner of his eye. Their father shot him a withering glare, warning evident in the tight pull of his mouth. “Where are your manners, child?” 

Felix bristled at the insult. Lucien could see him weighing the idea of his punishment, considering how angry Beron was to determine his choice. “You have my apologies, lady,” he said, a restrained anger in his tone. He dipped his chin mechanically, a mockery of a bow. 

Elain stayed still, looking like the statues of Day, regal and unbothered. Her silence added to the tense atmosphere as they all waited to see what Beron would say next. 

Their father simply nodded. “Leave the fighting until our guests are gone,” he ordered. There was collective relief amongst Lucien and his brothers as they realised there would be no further punishment. The humiliation seemed to be enough for Beron, a testament perhaps to him being in a good mood. 

The High Lord winnowed without a word, snuffing all of the torches in the hall. Plunged into a few short moments of darkness left Lucien disoriented, he barely realised that Eris was standing behind him. The fires were lit easily, and he could not decide which one of his brothers had done so. He barely gave it any thought, not when Elain ran to him, skirts in hand, her eyes wide with worry.

Lucien half saw as Felix swatted Callum’s outstretched hand, refusing any help and getting up inelegantly. Blood had stained the collar of his brother’s shirt, and for a moment guilt flooded his senses. 

Felix spat onto the floor, scarlet smattering the pale stone, before he marched away. There were dancing embers flowing behind him, Callum following at a safe distance. 

You shouldn’t have come back.

Lucien pushed Felix’s words to the back of his mind, focusing on the comforting hand Eris placed on his shoulder. The gesture was more kindness than he had received from his eldest brother in centuries, but the warmth from his palm was gone quickly as Eris moved towards Ronan. 

Elain grabbed onto Lucien’s wrist, the contact enough to settle his rapidly beating heart. She tucked herself into his chest, letting him wrap an arm around her waist. He glanced at his remaining brothers, keeping his mate close. 

“You should have stayed in Night,” Ronan said gruffly, straightening his jacket. 

It was unclear to Lucien whether the comment was directed at him or Elain.

[the-radio-demon-blog]

Hello hello, its me again! *gives a small grin*

Thank you for sharing a bit of insight into your childhood pastimes with me. It was really intriguing!

I used to enjoy tag as well, though I am not very good at card games, minus go fish and possibly old maid. I can play uno though. I don't think I have the best poker face myself. Surprisingly enough, though, I am exceptional at liar's dice. It's a social game of deception and strategy were people make bids and call bluffs on other players while attempting to avoid losing their own dice, so to speak. Its quite fun, I recommend it!

However, math isn't a strong suit of mine, nor is figuring out the probability of things; but some how I have a weird sort of luck with that game in particular. I believe I even made an acquaintance of mine nearly loose his mind in trying to figure out how I was able to guess correctly almost every single time without an ounce of thought put into my strategy haha.

*clears throat and shuffles in place, holding both hands behind her. It's obvious she's holding something*

In any case, that's not the only reason I'm back. I wanted to give you a surprise. You seem the type to appreciate those, I'm assuming.

*glances over into the lobby at all of the flower arrangements present gifted from previous guests*

But I think I'm a little late to the party with the surprise I have for you, haha. Well, great minds think alike I suppose. Anyways, the suspense is probably killing you, so here you go!

*Presents a bouquet of magnolias and violet Louisiana Irises in a sizable vase with a soft, shy smile*

Everyone deserves to at least get a bouquet of their favorite flowers every now and then. Its a token of my respect for you, my appreciation for your time and just to say I'm a fan of your work and radio show.

Also, if you guys need any help around the hotel, I don't mind volunteering! Though I'm not the best at fighting for security purposes, I am quite good at listening if someone needs to express troubling emotions and the like. I am also somewhat of an artist and can help make pamphlets and such for the classes and activities the Princess is providing, if you think that would be beneficial to anyone...

*Sheepishly laughs*

Though, I suppose you would need to discuss such an arrangement with the princess first. In any case, if you think my assistance would be necessary or profitable, I am willing to lend a helping hand wherever it is needed.

"Ah, of course, my dear! I am happy that you found my childhood pastimes intriguing!"

"Hmm...that's quite a curious skill? Terrible at poker yet good at liar's dice? How fascinating! Ah, yes, I have played old maid in my time at the bars. You should truly take up card playing, my dear! It is quite fun!"

"Well, fate and luck works in mysterious ways, darling! That's what keeps life fun, hm? I must also admit my strategies can be erratic. I like to be unpredictable. Once you fall into a pattern, your opponents can exploit it."

Alastor gives you a curious look and tries to discreetly peer behind you.

"Oh my goodness! Thank you, dear!" Alastor takes the flowers eagerly into his hands and sniffs their wonderous scent. He lets out a good humored laugh. "I never thought I'd ever get to smell them again! Hah! As strange as that sounds! It is always nice to meet a fan of my work!"

"Yes, of course I would have to discuss such things with the princess." Alastor tilts his head and grins at her. "That's quite alright that you aren't exactly prowess, not everyone is built to be. However..." Alastor taps his chin. "...the Princess has been organizing this...hmm...this odd "therapy" activity. Perhaps you could help her with that?"

Alastsor sets the vase on the coffee table, taking good care to arrange them in a pleasing position. Then he turns back to her and offers her an arm. "If you would follow me, I can take you to the princess herself if you'd like!"