#it’s important to me that things didn’t go smooth from the start for those two either

[hazelkjt]

Heya, ask game attendee here! (This is Johnny, btw!)

For Hazel and Emmanelain, I'd like to ask: What are their relationships with each others' families like?

For Hazel and Zero: When did they first say "I love you"? What was the situation?

Hi Johnny!!!

Answers will be below the read more, since they got kinda long…like REALLY long

Ship Questions (Still Open!!) ----------

Hazel had a...rocky beginning with the other members of the Fortemps family, Honoroit being the exception in Emmanellain's life as he was the first one to notice and push the two of them to admit their feelings for one another. Hazel especially had a rough start with Edmont de Fortemps, specifically. Similar to Emm, she grew up with a strict father with exacting expectations for her. First impressions of the man, drawn from stories Emmanellain would tell her (usually venting and complaining about something or other) did not paint the best picture. So when meeting the Count for the first time, Hazel was on guard and ready to jump to Emm's defense at any point.

It wasn't Edmont having high expectations for his sons that bothered Hazel, it was his attitude when Emmanellain failed that she took issue with. Baato, her own father, for sure became frustrated with her when she didn't meet his standards for her, but afterwards he made sure to guide her back to the path she needed to walk. It was tough love yes, but at its core it was fair. In contrast, Emmanellain was simply told to "be better" with little to no further guidance on how to properly be better. "Be more like your brothers" was what he was told many times. as if it was as simple as flipping a switch. Not to mention the story of Edmont striking Emmanellain as punishment made her blood boil, even if his mistake in that moment was severe. She was no stranger to receiving bruises or the uncommon cut from her father in training, but never as a form of punishment.

It was clear after meeting him though that Edmont was a changed man from the stories Emmanellain told, the ones from before the end of the Dragonsong War. Over the course of getting to know him more and more Hazel has since come around to the Fortemps family Count, even if she still harbors a small grudge against him for his previous treatments of Emmanellain. In a similar vein, Edmont didn't particularly seem to care much about Hazel before meeting her. As the second born and not the heir to the family as long as his partner did not harm the reputation of the Fortemps then it didn't matter to Edmont all that much who Emmanellain chose to love. Over time though he became grateful for her presence and the affect she had on Emm's growth as a person and a knight. Now he can say he is proud of who Emmanellain has chosen, and he truly means it.

Her relationship with Artoirel, on the other hand, was a much more smooth start. There was an initial hiccup when Artoirel began criticizing Emmanellain for "naively calling the first maiden who did not seem disgusted to hold a conversation with you your romantic partner" but Hazel quickly and loudly shut that misconception down. On the surface Artoirel didn't seem to mind much after that, until he pulled Hazel aside for a private conversation. There he practically threatened the woman that if she toyed with his brother's heart or hurt him in any way, that he would hunt her down no matter how long it took and exact just punishment. The threat didn't seem to have the desired effect as Hazel from then on had a strange sense of respect for Artoirel, knowing how deeply he does care for his family even if it doesn't always make it to the surface of his character. Likewise Artoirel has mutual respect for Hazel due to her impact on Emmanellain, happy to finally see his brother spread his wings and grow.

----------

Up until their trip to the Azim Steppe, all Hazel’s parents knew of Emmanellain were from the letters Hazel would write to them. So upon meeting him for the first time they were…underwhelmed. Still, Janis came around to the young man rather quickly. Emmanellain likewise only knew the two from stories Hazel would tell of her time back home, and thankfully Janis felt almost exactly as how Hazel described her.

Being in her presence was calming, almost to the point of being unnerved by the stillness and quiet. A silent sense of judgement followed every glance towards Emmanellain. Nevertheless Emm gave his utmost to present and carry himself as any self respecting member of a noble house should, not once making any comment about the disparity between living conditions of his family’s Ishgard estate and the Steppe yurt he found himself in for over a week.

By about halfway into the trip, Janis admits to Hazel that while she had some doubts at first she sees how happy Emmanellain makes her. He brings out the same smile from her daughter that Janis would often see during their late night novel readings from when Hazel was growing up. She remarks a comment Hazel made as a child about finding her own princess like in her favorite book, joking around if Hazel would settle for a prince instead.

Emmanellain knew Hazel's parents would be intense, but nothing truly prepared him for just how intense her father would be. He thought he was prepared: A respected and strong hunter of a nomadic warrior people and Emm was the one taking his only child, his only daughter's hand. You could've cut the tension upon his first meeting with Baato with a knife. As quickly as the first handshake Emmanellain knew exactly how this was gonna go, once he felt the bones in his hand crack from the Auri man's death grip.

Much of Emmanellain’s time spent in the Steppe on this trip was spent either sparring or hunting with Baato. Emm never came close to beating Hazel’s father in a fight the entire trip, which Emm himself would be the first to admit he saw coming. He also never caught anything on his hunting excursions with Baato, also to be expected according to the Elezen. During the entire trip Emmanellain could not for the life of him get a read on what Hazel’s father was thinking, let alone what he thought of him…until he told him on the last day of their trip to the Azim Steppe.

Baato told Emmanellain that he was very unhappy with the warrior his daughter chose. He said Emmanellain was sloppy in technique and skill, physically weak and lacking in fortitude. Nothing Emmanellain had never heard before, but to hear it so bluntly was somewhat of a new experience for him. But, Baato continued, in terms of the person Hazel had chosen he could accept. Emmanellain was determined to prove himself, never backed down from any of Baato’s challenges, and most of all he saw how Hazel’s eyes shone like the sun itself when she lays eyes on Emmanellain. And her happiness trumps his disapproval of Emm’s capabilities as a fighter.

----------

The first one to admit their feelings was Zero, as detailed here. But the first one to say the actual words "I love you" was in fact Hazel herself. It wasn’t long after the previously linked scenario, in fact. The two finished their meals in relative silence, stealing glances back and forth of one another.

Eventually it came that they could no longer hide behind their empty bowls, leaving the restaurant and moving back into the streets of Radz-at-Han. The two of them wandered almost aimlessly around the city, the quiet between them broken up intermittently by the odd question here and there.

They threw inquiries back and forth to one another, such as “how long have you known?” and “why wait until now to say anything?” and more. Hazel’s heart was racing a malm a minute, and color had steadily found its place on the pale Voidsent’s face by this point. Eventually the two come to a stop at Zero’s favorite place in the city: the airship landing dock.

The best view to see the stars at night, and tonight there was nary a cloud in sight to block the majesty of the shining dots above. It hurt Hazel to ask, but she had to go forward with one more question to Zero. “Are you…sure that what you’re feeling is love?” It was a dagger to her own heart to ask that question, but Hazel felt she had to ask it. For her own sake, to not truly get her hopes up just yet.

Zero takes a moment to respond. “It’s something I know I do not feel for any other individual in my life currently. It’s not dissimilar to that of friendship…but there’s something more to it.” The Voidsent takes a step forward. “A hunger, but not of aether. A hunger, a desire… simply to be close to you.” She moves her hand to her brow.

The Voidsent was once more attempting to use her hat as a shield, not remembering she was not wearing it that evening. She quickly adjusts and moves to brush her hair behind her ear. “If this is not love, then I know not what it could be.” She raises her eyes to meet Hazel’s, a small smile forming on her face.

Hazel quickly reaches out, grabbing Zero by the shoulder and just under her chin. The Voidsent’s eyes shoot open over the sudden movement and takes hold of Hazel’s arm. Their gazes meet, Zero just now seeing the Auri woman’s eyes begin to water over. Hazel’s lip begins to tremble as she breaks out into a deep smile. “I love you, Zero…I love you.” She admits, the pain in her chest subsiding as she lets go of the breath she was holding in.

“…I love you as well, Hazel.” Zero quietly responds, unconsciously pulling away from Hazel’s hands. Unfortunately it’s not quick enough as Hazel tries to pull the Voidsent in for a kiss. Zero feels her pulse quicken, fight or flight kicking in as she pushes Hazel away from her, the Au Ra stumbling into some boxes. The Voidsent takes a moment to steady her breath. “I…I’m sorry. I just…I simply-”

“No, it’s fine…I was moving too fast. I’m the one that should be apologizing.” Hazel cuts her off, sadness evident in her tone but a sheepish smile on her face. “Let’s just head back for the night, alright?” Hazel asks, but begins walking back towards the city without waiting for an answer. Zero looks on as guilt begins to form in her chest, but the Warrior of Light refused to meet her gaze.

[ohsc]

Imagine Sam with his daughter and she's dressing him up and doing his hair. You know those fairy wings you can wear, her forcing him to wear those and she's wearing a princess dress.

tysm for the request!! i’m a bit rusty so i feel like this kinda sucks and it ended up being much longer than intended lol but i’m loving this verse sm so much more to come :) | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, kid fic, fluff, not proof red, requests open only for juno fics

“Don’t laugh.” Were the first words out of his mouth when he opened the door and saw her stood there.

He had been trying to clean up the apartment when he knew that she was coming over after work — also in an attempt to starve off the giddiness, which hadn’t worked out either — when his daughter had attached herself to his leg and refused to let go until he played with her. Juno, he was convinced, had all of the stubbornness of a Winchester, and he’d rather just give in easily then peel her off of his leg and have a crying toddler and a messy apartment.

Y/N had been visiting more and more over the recent weeks, she had started to work herself into the little routine that he and Juno had been building, and it made him so soft. There hadn’t been somebody that he’d looked forward to seeing like that in a long time.

Her lips were curving upwards as she looked at him, lips pressed together in a clear attempt to not laugh at him. “…you look pretty.”

Juno’s recent game of choice had been dress up, which was honestly just a kinder way of saying she liked to hold him hostage and dress him up until she got bored. His hair was pulled into three pigtails, there were god knows how many butterfly clips up there, and he was pretty sure there were at least two stickers on his face somewhere.

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes, stepping aside to let her into the apartment. He really tried not to stare as she stepped past, but she really was just so pretty. It would help if he didn’t have Dean in his ear whenever he called telling him that he clearly had a thing for waitresses. “My stylist got bored waiting for you, here.” Sam gently took her jacket from her and hung it up next to his own and Juno’s red coat on the hooks by the door.

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not, you look great.” She giggled, a hand reached up with the intention of touching his hair, but the shout of her name from down the hall took both of their attention.

She crouched down just in time to open her arms to the toddler barrelling down the hall towards her, almost slipping on the material of her princess dress in the process which made Sam wince.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She caught Juno in her arms with a tight squeeze, somehow not knocked to the floor. Sam was so immeasurably soft whenever he got to watch her with his daughter, how much she was adored by Juno and how much she adored her back. It was the most important thing to him, that his daughter liked her. And she really did — more than him, he thought sometimes.

“Oh I missed you so much,” she squeezed his toddler once more before pulling back to look at her, smiling as she touched the puffy skirt of her dress. “Oh don’t you look so pretty, Junie? I love your dress.”

“It’s sleeping beauty’s dress,” Juno informed her, smile full of pink chubby cheeks as she soaked up the praise. “Daddy got it for me for my last birthday, when I was three.” She held up three fingers to show her, somehow covered in glitter that Sam could only dread to think was in his hair.

“Well it’s very pretty,” she beamed, gently smoothing over a few wrinkles in the dress. “Are you dressing up daddy to match?”

“No,” she shook her head, tone firm as if it was obvious. “He’s a fairy,” as if she suddenly just remembered what they’d been doing she frowned and let go of Y/N, clumsily stepping around her to grab at Sam’s hand and tugged with far too much strength for her little body. “Daddy, not done.”

Sam sighed, eyes down on her as she tugged on his arm as if she could pull him down the hallway herself. She had turned her big puppy eyes on, the ones he could never really say no to. “I know, Bug, why don’t you let me make Y/N a coffee and then—”

“No,” she whined, tugging harder. “Now.”

The clouds were forming for a tantrum, it had been that way all afternoon, it’s why he’d settled for letting her play dress up in the first place. She always got cranky after pre-school on Mondays. “Baby—”

“It’s okay,” a hand touched his arm and he turned to look at her. “I know where everything is, I can make one. I did interrupt play time.”

“Thanks,” he breathed, ever grateful for how amazing she was with Juno. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have assumed that she had kids of her own. “Really, I’ll make it up—”

“Daddy.” Juno was whining louder, tugging his arm again, and he just let out a breath as he leaned down to scoop her up onto his arms, settling her on his hip.

“Why are you acting up, hm?” Not really annoyed, he knew she couldn’t really help it, he reached his free hand up to tickle at her side until she giggled. Satisfied that he’d successfully worked around a tantrum he led Y/N down the hall with his daughter on his hip, though she already knew the place like the back of her hand. If he wasn’t so nervous he would’ve invited her to stay the night already.

He watched her disappear into the kitchen to make herself a drink before he took Juno back into the living room, and returned to his spot on the floor where he’d been held captive for the past twenty minutes. The floor was littered with hair clips and tiaras and plastic shoes which he’d clean up when she went to bed, but he didn’t really mind the mess if it meant she was happy.

“Daddy,” she was pulling at his hair again, stood on his thighs, only not falling off onto the carpet because of his hands on her sides. He watched her reach for another hair clip, a glittery yellow butterfly, and tried not to wince as he felt it’s teeth scrape against his scalp as she shoved it into place. “Can Y/N play too?”

Juno had been attached to her ever since they’d become friends. It was sweet, endearing really. Aside from himself and Dean, the only other adults she really got to see were her teachers at pre-school. Juno really adored her, clung to her every moment she could. She’d come with Sam to pick Juno up from school once and she’d practically screamed across the playground when she saw her.

“If she wants to, Junie,” he hummed, holding her steady as she leaned to the floor to grab something else. “She had a long day at work, she might be tired.”

“I still play after school.” Her nose scrunched up in a way that made him smile.

“Waitressing is a little different to school, baby. It’s not very fun.”

Juno hummed like she was thinking about it as she scrambled off of his lap to reach into her toy box. “Then she should get a new job,” she settled on, tugging out her pink fairy wings from the crate. “A fun one.”

Sam nodded a little, smiling softly as he murmured, “I agree.”

Little hands pulled at his arm, and he leaned forwards like she’d moved him herself. The elastic loops of the fairy wings were a little small for his shoulders, but he didn’t complain about the tightness of the band as he helped her get them on him, worth it to hear her giggle when it was all done.

“Those look great,” he looked up and watched as Y/N walked into the room, two mugs in her hands, one of which she placed down on the coffee table for him. “You did a really great job, Junie, now he really looks like a fairy.”

The way she was smiling at him was making his face heat up. Jesus, he needed to get a grip.

“Can you play?” Juno clambered off of Sam’s lap again to head over to her, grabbing some butterfly clips from the floor on her way. “Pretty please?”

“Baby, I’m sure she’s probably really tired—”

“It’s okay,” she waved him off with a fond little smile, before she looked back to Juno. “I’ll play if you make a deal with me, sweet girl.”

Juno nodded furiously like it was the most important thing in the world.

“If you promise me that you’ll eat your vegetables with dinner you can dress me up however you like, hm?”

Juno beamed and nodded, her little pinky clunkily hooking around the one that Y/N held up.

Sam met her eyes over Juno’s head, mouthing a thank you that earned him a smile in return. God, he was smitten.

[konuxkii]

UNSPOKEN RULES — SANZU HARUCHIYO

🍥 ₊‧ rivalry, hatred, and sharp words—that’s how things have always been between you and Sanzu. But as time goes on, those unspoken rules start to shift, and the lines between enemy and something else blur. There’s something else beneath that hate—a tension that neither of you can deny, though neither is willing to admit it.

WARNINGS : it's sanzu- he needs his own warning tbh, mild language, rivalry, mutual pinning, implicit flirting, kanto manji arc

PAIRINGS : sanzu haruchiyo x gn!reader

WORDCOUNT : 585

m.list

The first time you crossed paths with Sanzu Haruchiyo, the air had crackled with a mix of disdain and challenge. You had always been on opposite sides—different feelings, different ideologies. He'd looked at you with that arrogant smirk of his, his sharp eyes glinting as though he already knew he could break you. And yet, somehow, you never backed down.

It wasn’t just the rivalry—it was something in the way he made you feel. Every interaction, every snide comment, every insult, it was like a spark igniting in your chest. You hated him, and yet, there was something about him that drew you in. Something dangerously magnetic.

"Still pretending you’re important?" he’d taunted last week, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You hadn’t even flinched. You didn’t need to. But the way his gaze lingered on you, just for a moment too long, made your heart race in a way you didn't want to acknowledge.

Today, it was no different. You stood across from him, facing off in the midst of a tense meeting between Kanto Manji’s factions. He leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room but always drifting back to you.

"Didn't expect to see you again so soon," Sanzu said, his voice smooth, his lips curling into a half-smile. It was always that smile—half teasing, half mocking—that made it impossible to tell if he was genuinely amused or if he was baiting you. Probably both.

You kept your composure. "You're the one who keeps showing up wherever I go like some lost dog."

"Maybe I like the view," he quipped, and this time, his eyes were uncomfortably focused on you.

For a second, you felt the familiar rush of heat in your chest, the same heat that made you grit your teeth and clench your fists. Your rivalry had always been sharp, but lately, it felt… different. The tension was thicker, heavier. It wasn’t just about whatever was going on between you two in Kanto Manji anymore. It was about something else—something neither of you wanted to admit.

"Quit looking at me like that," you snapped, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach as you looked away from him, god you hated that fucking smirk. "We're not friends, Sanzu."

His gaze darkened, but his grin never wavered. “I didn’t say we were.”

You hated how much you wanted him to say more. How much you wished the words would slip from his lips—the words you both knew were hovering between you, yet neither of you could speak.

Silence stretched out. The room felt too small, the space between you and him charged with unspoken words. The way he was standing—almost like he was waiting for something, like he was testing you—made your pulse quicken. You weren’t sure if he was trying to get under your skin, or if it was something deeper, something rawer than either of you had ever allowed to surface.

"You know, it's funny," Sanzu said after a moment, his tone now quieter, almost thoughtful. "For all the hate you throw my way… you never seem to really mean it."

Your breath hitched, but you recovered quickly, forcing a mocking laugh. "That's rich, coming from you."

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. He just took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, as if the two of you were the only ones in the room.

"Maybe I don't mean it either."

The words hung in the air like a challenge—and a promise.

Oh, how you hated him.

@konuxkii 2024 kalli notes : (please tag me in any sanzu fic) I had the sudden burst of motivation to write again soo, with my ever going obsession with Sanzu..who better to write for? Expect more with him honestly. I'm not sure if I wanted to make this a series so for now it's a drabble!! REQUESTS OPEN!!

[leodette]

could u write Lando with an older woman? who maybe already has a kid, or at least with a small child is in her company? thanx <3

Hello, sure I can! The woman is around 30, and since there are no more instructions, the child that accompanies her is her nephew!

I Never Wanna See You Walk Away | LN4

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: Lando takes Mila to the zoo

warning: age difference (older woman x younger man)

requested: yes / no

**********

“Mila! Mila please wait for me!” Lando yelled after his little niece who zoomed away from him on her bright pink scooter, laughing at her uncle’s attempts to catch her.

Lando had a rare moment of peace in his busy season, which allowed him to go home to Bristol for a few days, to see his parents and siblings. And because he was gone so often, hell he lived in a different country, he offered Oliver that he would take Mila in the late morning for a little ‘date’ to Bristol zoo, allowing his brother and Savannah some time with their newborn Athena.

What he didn’t count though was the energy hiding in Mila’s little body, and also the fact that she didn’t care if her ‘Uncle Lala’ was able to match his steps with her excitement.

So he was basically running after the child, trying not to gain too much attention. He was happy to not only have a break to see his family, but also not to be in public eye that much and that often.

He passed by lions and giraffes, his eyes firmly locked on Mila’s yellow jacket in desperate need to not loose her from his sight. A group of people suddenly appeared in her way, and Mila, startled, turned and ran her scooter straight into another child, both kids falling on the ground.

“Shit,” Lando sweared when he heard Mila’s high-pitched cry, running the last few paces and crouching next to her. She has laying in her stomach, the scooter next to her, partly crushed under her, the sleeves of her jacket dirty with mud, and her eyes shining with tears.

“Oh no no no, don’t cry darling, don’t,” Lando carefully lifted her, helping her to stand up and started to look for any kind of injury. In the whole mess, he completely forgot about the boy that Mila crashed into. Said young child was standing up, his hair messy and wet with a dirty water from the puddle that he fell into, the bottoms of his pants dirty. His eyes were shinning with tears, but he seemed desperately determined not to cry. Lando thought he could be around five.

“Buddy? What happened?!” a voice sounded behind them, and Lando turned to see a stunning woman with alarmed face expression. She was wearing black skinny jeans, cute boots on a small heel with a bow in the back, and a long maroon raincoat. Long haired pulled in a messy bun, and horrified look as she knelt next to the young boy, checking him in the similar way he was checking Mila.

“What happened, buddy?” she hugged him closer to her, caressing his cheek and wiping the lonely tear in his cheek. Mila though continued to cry loudly in Lando’s arms, him not being able to comfort her.

“That girl ran into m-me with her sco-scooter, those pe-people there sca-scared her,” the boy let out a few sobs, pointing first at Mila and then at the group of people that calmly walked away, clearly not aware of two crying children behind them.

“Okay, that’s okay, nothing happened,” the woman pressed a small kiss on boy’s forehead, smoothing his hair down.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” she checked, and when he shook his head negative, she turned her eyes to Lando and Mila. Lando expected her started screaming at him for not being careful, but she just smiled slightly.

“And you sweetheart? Are you okay?” she asked Mila, patting her hair. The little girl was watching her warily, still sniffling the ugly tears away, but she shook her head.

“Good. That is good. C’mon, there is no need to cry, okay? Things like this happen, the most important thing is that you are not hurt,” she smiled, and to Lando’s absolute surprise Mila squirmed out of his arms and flew herself at the woman. She quickly closed her arms around the little girl, before motioning with her hand for he boy who squeezed himself next to Mila, cuddling closer to the woman that Lando still didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, I lost an eyesight of her for only a second,” he apologized and stood up, looming over the most unusual trio anyone could imagine. He earned only a smile and a shake of head.

“Nothing bad happened, right? They’re both okay, maybe little startled, but that comes with life,” she gently eased herself out of Mila’s grid, standing up as well, her hands in each of the kids heads.

“Although we can’t tell your Mum, buddy, otherwise she would have Auntie’s neck for that,” she winked at the boy who gave her a big smile back, one of his front teeth missing but not from the collision.

“Okay, so since they both are fine, I guess we should go,” she patted Mila’s hair and let her go, grabbing the boy’s hand. But Lando’s niece had nothing out of it, running it her and grabbing her hand with the determination only toddlers posses.

“No, come with,” she stomped her foot, the last reminders of a crying fit moments ago long forgotten.

The woman looked at her with wide eyes, before bashfully smiling at Lando and turning back to Mila.

“Do you want to go to take a look at the animals with us?” she asked, making Mila nod with all seriousness.

“Yef, animalf,” she pointed towards the nearby camel, and the woman chuckled.

“Well, if your Papa has nothing against it, you can come with me and Maxie here,” she motioned to the boy who smiled at Lando’s niece.

“Oh I’m not her dad, merely an uncle,” the McLaren driver quickly corrected her, feeling a blush warming his cheeks. She was gorgeous. Clearly older than him, probably closer to thirty than to twenty, but the classic elegance and kindness made his stomach tighten and his hands sweat.

“Well, there is nothing like ‘merely an uncle’. You’re basically her Dad in proxy now,” she smiled at him, before offering her hand and introducing herself.

“Oh, eee… Bob. I’m Bob, and this little spitfire here is Mila,” he motioned to the girl who was already standing at the fence together with Maxie, both of them watching the three camels inside with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry again for the incident,” he apologized again but she only waved her hand.

“As I said, nothing happened. No broken bones or knocked out teeth.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the kids, before Max turned to his aunt.

“Auntie, can we get some snack?” he asked, his puppy eyes out in all force, making the woman roll hers before smiling gently.

“I guess we can. Want to come with us?” she asked Lando, who after a few seconds nodded. It wouldn’t hurt neither of them.

“Sure, why not. But,” he raised his finger, “I will pay.”

That earned him a chuckle from her and excited yells from the kids, and Lando offered her his elbow which she accepted before smirking.

“Well, I guess driving fast cars in circles earns some nice paycheck, right?” she added like it was nothing. But that little comment made Lando sweat, and not in a nice way. Looking at his horrified face she started laughing.

“We’re in Bristol, Mister Norris. You’re a superstar here,” she patted his arm gently.

“Don’t worry though. If you don’t say who you are, I will not. Now, off to the snack! Max wanted those strawberry pancakes they have in the bistro!” she pulled him with her like they knew each other for years, Mila and Maxie walking in front of them, the boy helping his new friend with her scooter.

And Lando? Once the shock from the realization that she knew him disappeared, he relaxed, and maybe… maybe a small hope for leaving with her number in his phone by the end of the day entered his mind.

Next

[vodika-vibes]

Hiiiii!

Congrats on the 800 followers, it's awesome! 🤩

I'd like to request a Fox'ikaxReader (fem or gn, your choice 💗) with the movie marathon prompt, and let it be so fluffy like a cotton candy 🥺🥹💗

Thank yooouuu 🦊💗

Tonight

Summary: When you have to cancel date night due to circumstances beyond your control, you expect Fox to be angry. You don’t expect him to show up anyway.

Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader

Word Count: 814

Prompt: Movie Marathon

Warnings: None

A/N: Thank you! And thank you for the request! I hope you like it~

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

You sniffle and bury yourself under another fleece blanket as you shiver.

It’s not fair. You had tonight's date planned for weeks, planned almost to the minute. And yet, when you woke up this morning, it was with a fever, a sore throat, and body aches.

Serves you right for ignoring your grandmother’s warning about her being sick and visiting her anyway.

And, while you were willing to take drugs and push through the illness, when Fox called you to ask when you wanted him to arrive for your date, he could tell that you were sick.

You didn’t even have the energy to argue against him when he told you that your health was more important than dinner.

He didn’t even sound disappointed, or maybe he did. Your head hurts too much to think about it too much.

You start when your doorbell rings. You’re not expecting company. Not anymore, at least.

But, even so, you roll off the couch and drape your fleece blanket around you like a cape, and walk over to the door. A press of a button unlocks the door, and another button allows the door to slide open, and you squint at the man on the other side of the door.

You really should have put your glasses back on.

Even without your glasses, though, you’re still able to recognize Fox.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, startled. Though you do move out of the way to let him in your home.

“I wanted to see you.” His reply is simple, “Besides, no one should be alone when they’re sick.” Fox holds up the canvas bag that he’s carrying, “I bring soup and movies.”

You blink at him, dumbly, for a moment. “You didn’t have to do that.”

A cool hand presses against your burning cheek and the noise you release can only be called a purr as you lean into the only comfortable thing you’ve felt all day.

Fox laughs, it’s a quiet and affectionate sound and you peer up at him. He’s standing close enough that he’s not blurry, and the look on his face—

Well, it’s reminiscent of the way that your dad looks at your mom when she’s not paying attention.

But you’re not quite able to handle that thought, so you push it to the side and focus on the more important comment he made, “You brought food?”

“I did.” Fox gently nudges you further into your apartment, “Go lay down, cyare.” 

Obediently, you stumble back to the couch and shove some of the many blankets to the floor so you’re able to sit on the actual couch. You grab your glasses and place them back on your face so you’re able to watch Fox properly.

“You’re sleeping on the couch?” He asks from the kitchen, where he appears to be sorting soup into two bowls.

“I tried resting in bed, but it felt like a boulder was lying on my chest,” You reply honestly. Though you regret your honesty when he crosses the room and kneels at your feet, his hand moving to press against your forehead.

“Do I need to call my medic to come and take a look at you?”

“I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

He doesn’t believe you but accepts your words as fact for now. And then he returns to the kitchen and grabs the two bowls before he returns to your side. “I bought it from a place not far from here.” Fox explains, “Just eat what you can.”

“I don’t think I can eat two bowls,” You point out.

Fox laughs again, “Well, good. Because one of those belongs to me.”

“You’re staying? I thought—”

“What? That I would drop off soup and movies and let you fend on your own?” You feel his hand smooth over your hair, and you feel a surge of affection for the man who hasn’t sat down just yet, “Just because we had to cancel our formal date, doesn’t mean that we can’t still have a date.”

Great, now you want to cry because of how sweet he’s being.

“You…uh…you said you brought movies?”

“Yeah, I raided Thorn’s collection. I haven’t seen any of them.” Fox lifts the small device, “Though, Thorn really only watches horror movies, I hope you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, “You’re here to protect me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.”

Half an hour later, you’re sprawled across Fox’s chest while the pair of you watch one of Thorn’s movies. Well, Fox is watching it, you’re more asleep than awake, your ear pressed over his heart.

He doesn’t seem all that bothered that you’re covered in blankets, or that you’re not really paying attention to the movies. And his hand slowly strokes your back, slowly easing you into slumber.

It’s not the date you had planned, but somehow it’s so much better.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[spatialwave]

(smutty drabble lol. Definitely NSFW)

So obviously Angus doesn't have much experience being a munch but once he learns with you, oh lord get ready.

Forget about wearing skirts in front of him cuz he won't give you a moment's peace. He'll be trying to get it at the movies, the back shelves of the library, hell even when  your parents step out of the room after Sunday dinner. He has a fever and the only known cure is making you cum.

Don't get me wrong he loves fucking you or having you ride him, your tits bouncing in his face. But there's something else that really gets him going, how you gasp his name when he slides his fingers inside or the way you grab his curls when you're sitting on his face

hehehe, thank you for sending. i think we all deserve a little smutty angus tully drabble in our lives!

—

part 1… to be continued?

notes: nsfw. college au. 18+ characters.

getting ready for classes in the morning was one of—if not the—most important tasks of your day. you hadn’t cared an ounce about how other students perceived you, it had nothing to do with having perfectly curled hair or plump, red lips. it revolved around one thing, what you chose to wear and how that affected your boyfriend.

since you had started dating angus tully, going several months strong, the two of you had eagerly explored each other’s bodies. you two followed your hormonal urges and taught each other so many things—what made you whine in pleasure or what had you shaking and crying, begging for more. it was a glorious time of your life, growing used to pulling the tall boy into your dorm room and fucking between classes, his cock buried into the back of your throat or deep inside your pussy.

you spent countless hours every night learning what made angus squirm, how his hips twitched when you’d rub your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum that leaked out. you hadn’t been prepared for his own enthusiasm, watching anxiously with half-lidded eyes as he kissed down your stomach until he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties aside.

he was slow and meticulous, perhaps a bit unsure, eventually finding your clit and letting his tongue circle the nub slowly—quicker, seeing how that made you react. he licked you up and down slowly, completely tasting and drinking you in, those big brown eyes of his not breaking as he learned every inch of your body.

it took him a couple times of eating you out to be confident in his abilities, successfully making you cum for the first time and watching in awe as your pussy tightened around his fingers as he lapped at your swollen clit. it was addicting, to feel your thighs squeezing around his head, your hands gripping at his curls as your voice cracked when moaning out his name. it was his favourite pastime.

today, you decided to wear a skirt. you knew the implications of your decisions as you hiked it up just an inch or two higher and smoothed down the blouse you tucked into it. you were content, smiling to yourself in the mirror as you wondered where your boyfriend would first find you.

these days were the best because you’d find yourself already so goddamn horny as you walked through campus, anticipating seeing angus. it was late thursday morning, which meant angus had didn’t have class until one o’clock. you ventured to the library, one of the few places you’d usually find him—and when you did, you didn’t bother getting his attention.

he sat at one of the desks in the centre of the library where it held the most traffic, his brows furrowed as he scoured an encyclopedia and scribbled away at a piece of paper. a final essay, no doubt. what a shame that he would soon be forgetting all of what he’d just read.

it was always like a game to you, finding angus in a sea of students and wondering how long it would take for him to spot you. you stood at one of the bookshelves that were near the seating area, right at the end as you pretended to look over the textbooks. medical textbooks, far from your own degree of interest, but your intent was to get up on your tiptoes and reach for something—your skirt riding up.

a quick glance over your shoulder, angus’ face still tilted down and fixated on the words of his text. with furrowed brows and a slight huff, you purposefully knocked one of the textbooks onto the ground. the loud noise startled many students, including your boyfriend.

you made eye contact for a brief moment, only for you to spin around quickly and pick up the book, bending over. your skin felt hot now that you knew his eyes were on you. staring at you with desire, undressing you, all while you’re turned away from him and trying to get your breathing under control.

slowly, you slip the textbook back up into its slot, taking one more shy look over your shoulder. you watched angus as he closed his books, shoving them hastily into his book bag and you took this as a sign to make way for a deserted area. your heart thumped hard in your chest as you absently smoothed down your skirt while you walked, drifting further and further into the depths of the library.

to ease the anticipation and ground yourself in the moment, you lifted a hand so your fingers grazed the spines of each book you passed by. you hadn’t seen any students in this area yet, only feeling the presence of angus turning into the aisle behind you.

“hey,” he called out, keeping his voice quiet, but you could hear the hunger in his voice. you slowed your steps, feeling his hand wrap around your wrist and within a few short moments your back was pressed against the shelf and his lips were against yours.

you moaned easily into his mouth, your lips parting almost immediately as you slid your arms around his neck and tugged on his curls with your hands, “do you like the skirt?” you mumbled messily against his lips, gasping as he pressed his thigh between your legs so you could rub against him to your heart’s desire. you needed the friction—badly.

“what do you think?” he chuckled lowly as his lips pulled away from yours, trailing down your jaw and to your neck. he nipped at the skin and sucked, leaving one or two marks near the collar of your blouse that would leave you wearing turtlenecks for the next few days, “fuck, i need you here,” he breathed, groaning as his hands fell to your hips and helped you roll and grind against his thigh.

“please,” you whimpered quietly, having to reach a hand to cover your mouth as angus kissed down your neck then dropped to his knees in front of you. the sight of this alone made you squirm, feeling the wetness build in your panties—ones you almost didn’t wear today.

angus took a quick look around before he lifted up your skirt, licking his lips as he partially tucked it up into the waistband so the fabric wouldn’t fall in his face. he preferred to be able to look up at you when he ate you out.

“these are my favourite ones,” he murmured in a praise-like tone, his fingers reaching up and tugging aside the black, lacy panties that covered your aching cunt.

his hot breath against you made your jaw go slack and a shiver send up your spine. you’d been in this position countless of times, legs spread and arms clutching to the nearest surfaces to keep you held up. thighs quivering and knees feeling like they could give out any second, with angus between them.

you looked down at him, biting hard on your bottom lip as his tongue circled your clit painstakingly slow—wanting to see you become a puddle because of him.

taking a quick look around and sensing no one else, you allowed yourself to let out the quietest whimper as you rolled your pussy along his mouth. he loved when you did that, fucking yourself on his tongue as he flattened it and tasted your juices, pushing it inside you. one hand lifting your right thigh, pulling it over his left shoulder, the other hand teasing your wet folds.

“angus,” you whimpered as he kept his slow movements, savouring you like a delicious meal as one of his fingers teased your entrance. you both knew you didn’t have the luxury of time, but he couldn’t help but tease you and wait for you to beg, “please.” you breathed, needing more from him. needing to be devoured, “please.”

satisfied, angus pushed two fingers into you, giving you the stretch and fullness that you desired. your head fell back and hit the books behind you, hands gripping tighter on the shelves as his fingers fucked you well and he sucked at your sensitive, swollen clit.

not once did he remove his eyes from you, watching as you had to try keep your voice down, breathing his name out as his fingers curled inside you and pressed against your g-spot, nearly making you scream out his name. he knew every part of you and you fucking loved him for that.

one hand flew down to his wild hair, tugging on his curls as you started to fuck yourself on his fingers, his mouth and chin wet from the way he abused your cunt that was growing tighter and tighter with each thrust of his fingers. he inserted a third, moaning filthily against you when you tugged harder on his hair, closing your eyes shut.

“cum for me,” he told you, pulling his mouth away for a moment so he could command you, “look at me.”

you opened your eyes obediently, looking at him as he smiled up at you. he loved when you looked so disheveled and fucked into euphoria, eyes half-lidded, lips parted and breathing heavy.

he returned his mouth to you, not easing you back into it. his tongue flicked at your clit, sucking on it and lapping at the folds while three of his fingers pummelled deep into your pussy.

that was enough to make your abdomen tighten, the heat inside you snapping when he curled his fingers again and left you shaking. your hips twitched and thighs tensed up as you moaned—quite a bit louder than you should’ve. your orgasm washed over you and left your clit pulsing under the touch of his tongue, wetting his fingers and face as your rocked yourself to completion.

if there was one thing angus loved, it was seeing how hot you looked when you came all over his face.

you felt the smile on his lips as your body slowed and your hushed whimpers came to a standstill, his fingers eventually pulling out of you and removing his mouth. he made sure to slip your panties back into place and untuck your skirt so it covered you up, like nothing ever happened.

through laboured breaths, you watched as angus stood up, smirking as he wiped his mouth and chin, brown eyes watching you recover. all you could do was give him a lazy, tired smile as you leaned all of your weight back onto the shelves.

“are you going to your afternoon class?” you breathed the question out quietly, batting your lashes as you lifted a hand up to his jaw, caressing him.

“fuck no,” he chuckled, wrapping his hand around your wrist and tugging you out of the library and to his dorm.

[backwzzds]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you look so good, ichigo kurosaki (nsfw)

ichigo always made sure to show you how good you looked.

you were sat alone at the bar, chin in the palm of your hand as you mindlessly swirled the olive around in your martini. you didn’t even drink martinis, but the flirty bartender insisted you tried his own speciality. you sighed for probably the millionth time that night, feeling your social battery finally die out.

countless men had hit on you tonight, all of which you hardly showed any mind. you were beginning to entertain the idea of engaging in mindless flirtation in response, but you knew the strawberry blonde waiting for you back at home would attest to that idea.

ichigo was of course working late on some soul reaper business. the even you attended was a couple’s banquet your job had hosted, a sort of offering for your co-workers to get to know you and your domestic life outside of work. you didn’t want to go at first; you preferred keeping your private life and work life completely separate. but ichigo managed to convince you to get out and have some fun anyway.

“c’mon, mama,” the strawberry blonde looked at you with encouraging eyes. “all you do is work, why not take the free night off and go? i know they’re gonna have some expensive ass shit there for drinks. you’ll look hot in that dress.”

you rolled your eyes. “you do know it’s a couple’s banquet, right? you gonna take the night off to go with me?” your eyebrows raised with crossed arms, already knowing the answer that was to come. you continue at ichigo’s silence. “thought so. i’m not sure if i even wanna go.”

well, here you were.

“sorry i’m late,” a voice as smooth as cashews filled your ears. “i’m here with y/n y/l/n, junior associate.” you look over and see ichigo at the entrance, skin clad in a suit that complimented his paler skin perfectly. he exchanges a few more casual words with the bailor at the front door before confidently striding his way on over to you. “hey there beautiful, his voice is silky as he stands in front of your sitting figure. stuffing his hands in his pockets, he starts the game you two have notoriously played for the years you’ve been together. “come here alone?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes in attempt to hide your smile, gladly playing along. “i sure did.”

ichigo catches on and continues. he blows out a surprised whistle as he steps closer to your thick figure. “damn. you don’t got a man?”

you can’t help but play along as you feel the alcohol of your drinks flood your bloodstream. “nope.”

ichigo stares into your eyes and squints his own. “you’re drunk.” his lips can’t help but form into a happy smile. the thing ichigo loved about you was that no one could ever tell you were drunk. you were able to keep your composure and behavior so well, only he was able to tell when you were intoxicated just by looking in those pretty eyes of yours. and he was shocked at the fact that you were actually drunk around hundreds of your coworkers.

a shrug erupts from your shoulders as you down the last of your drink. “i thought you weren’t coming?” though your voice proved otherwise in it’s naturally colder tone, you really were glad that ichigo came to support you, even if it was last minute.

“couldn’t miss something so important to my girl,” ichigo gives you his charming smile. his eyes can’t help but look you up and down as he took in your outfit. the little black dress was hugging your curvy body so tight, he almost wish you went a size up in the risky clothing so he wouldn’t have to resist himself against your full tits begging to be let out from the confinements of the ribbed fabric. he could see the outlines of your nipples through the thicker material, and it was turning him on the longer he stared at you.

the next words to leave his mouth are barely above a whisper. but from the sensual look of lust in his eyes, you already know what he’s trying to say. “come here.”

you drop your head back as ichigo grabs your cheek and presses his lips against yours. you can’t help but moan into the kiss as you feel his tall, slender body press against your short and pudgy one. the fabric of his own suit was blocking his body from yours, but he swore he could feel the areoles of your nipples pebble up and your nipples stand at attention through your dress in response to his touch.

it was no secret the effect he had on your body. he was so sure that if he pulled away right now and admired your figure, he’d see just how much his touch sent shocks through you. and that thought sent another devious one in his mind. you instantly feel the soul reaper’s hands discreetly slip its way between your legs and run its middle finger across the slit of your underwear.

ichigo smiled into the kiss, already knowing you were sporting a thong. lace at that too. he pecks your lips three more times amid the makeout session before pulling away and staring down at you with low-lid lovestruck eyes. “you look so good t’night, mama.”

your hardened personality shatters at his compliment. only he could bring out the softer side of you as you inevitably blushed and looked away from his gaze, muttering a small thank you. ichigo chuckled at your sudden shyness before pulling you up. “lets go dance before i get even more rock hard on this floor.”

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - eight

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: ngl i am starting to hate this story but it's okay!! also I'm drunk but I'm posting this anyways idc. also - written portion - 1.3k words (?!!). i'm finding it impossible to not write long ass parts. also pls feel free to request or ask me anything bc i don't like this smau and need something to distract me in between writing it <3 love u bye

as the car pulled up to the museum’s front entrance, you shakily smoothed your hair and dress with one hand, the other clutching a crumpled sheet of paper with your speech.

you couldn’t decide which was more pitiful. the frizzy flyaways escaping your hastily curled hair? or the piece of stationary, painstakingly flattened but still creased, one of the thirty-two drafts you’d written, retrieved reluctantly from the hotel floor?

the driver parked as an attendant opened the door, offering a hand to help you out. the museum director approached with a reassuring smile, and a suit probably worth more than thirty of your paintings combined.

the driver parked an attendant opened the car door and offered you a hand to help you out. the director approached you with a comforting smile and a suit that probably cost more than 30 of your paintings combined.

“welcome! how are you feeling?”

“to be honest,” you replied with a nervous smile. "I'm terribly anxious.”

he chuckled, holding the front door open for you. “that’s perfectly natural. don’t worry! the patrons will love you and your work. anyone would be foolish not to.”

“thank you, director…” you murmured, his words doing little to calm your trembling hands.

the head assistant joined your walk to the gallery hall, peppering you with one question after another.

“the catering service has just finished setting up. would you please take a final sample of the gyoza and ohitashi? they don’t look quite the same as they did during the original tasting…”

“we have a very important guest from malaysia… would you like me to introduce you two when she arrives? it would be a shame if you didn’t at least find time to say hello…”

“are you absolutely certain about the painting for the final reveal? i know you said it’s special to you but the other assistants and i agreed that the other one would-”

“alright, that’s enough questions,” the director interjected as you neared the gallery hall. you let out a small breath of relief. you thought you might burst if another word came out of the assistant’s mouth. “please go make sure the waiters have the champagne chilled and poured.”

“thank you,” you whispered to the director as the assistant walked away.

“please, don’t thank me. they can be so overbearing. sometimes, it’s better to just let things flow as life means them to,” he replied with a smile.

“yeah…” you replied, glancing at your paintings, their eyes seemingly judging you.

“i can see you’re terrified, and that’s okay. you’ve never done this on such a big stage before!” he laughed. “but truly, it’s not all that different than a smaller exhibition.”

“i don’t think i deserve to be here.”

“if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

you looked at the director, letting his words calm your nerves a bit. your gaze wandered to one of your paintings, a vibrant reinterpretation of jeanne: spring by édouard manet, now alive with bold reds and yellows. 

it was both different and familiar, evoking nostalgia even in those who knew the original. the abstract strokes depicted a striking dark-skinned woman you had met in the park, with bright orange braids cascading down to her waist, her skin glowing against the polka-dotted umbrella she carried.

upon meeting her, you had eagerly asked to paint her, offering what little savings you had left in return. she had given you a sideways smile and agreed, letting you capture her portrait for free.

over the next week, you posed her in your small apartment, finding moments between both of your busy schedules. when you finally showed her the finished piece, she grinned again and said, “oh sweetie, you’re gonna be big one day.”

though she couldn’t be here in tokyo, her spirit was with you, embodied in the painting with that sideways smile even the umbrella couldn’t overshadow.

"onee-san!"

your attention shifted from the painting to the other side of the room, where a group was led by itadori yuji and his toothy grin.

"itadori-kun!"

“and me! hello?” satoru added playfully.

“of course, you too,” you smiled. “thank you for coming, i'm so thrilled you’re here. you all look amazing!”

“no, you look amazing. and i wouldn’t miss this for the world,” satoru said, hugging you. "onee-san, i want you to meet all my students!”

as he finished introducing you to the first and second years, a warm hand rested on your shoulder. you turned to see an old classmate, now with long hair and a familiar pair of boots.

“shoko ieri, take my shoes off right now!” you laughed, throwing your arms around her.

“um, no way. you never even wore them when you had them,” she teased.

shoko's expression softened as she noticed the tears welling in your eyes. she looked just the same, but you couldn’t help noticing the worry lines between her brown, evident even with her smile.

“i didn’t think i'd see you again,” she said quietly.

“me neither… i'm so-”

“-stop talking,” she interrupted. “we brought gifts for you!”

you let go of shoko while yuji held out a large bouquet of blue and pink daisies.

“oh, stop it!” you exclaimed, taking the flowers. “they’re beautiful. thank you all so much!”

“we’re not done yet! there’s more,” satoru said slyly, holding out a small black box.

your heart nearly stopped when you pried the lid open to reveal a large pearl pendant on a gold chain.

“you-”

“-there’s more. look under the velvet,” shoko urged. you carefully lifted the padding to reveal a check with the note “a commission for the staff and students” made out for…

“ten million fucking yen?!”

“whoa, language!” satoru laughed. “kids, go run and play or something.”

“shoko, did you know about this?” you panicked as the students filed away with quiet giggles. “i seriously can’t accept this!”

“yes, you will,” shoko retorted, crossing her arms.

“a commission for what?”

“girl, did you even read the check?” satoru huffed playfully. “you’re gonna paint a portrait of the staff and students at jujutsu high. and hopefully, instead of ignoring us, it’ll cover a plane ticket back so you can visit us next year.”

tears welled up in your eyes again, spilling down your cheeks.

“no. seriously. i-no! i can’t accept this! this is an insane amount of money for a commission like that. i'll paint for you guys for free. and you’ll return this necklace because i know you spent too much money on it, too.”

“stop talking and just accept the gift,” shoko urged.

“but i don’t deserve it.”

“now you’re just spouting nonsense,” satoru said as he placed a hand on your shoulder and turned you toward the gallery entrance. he pointed at the large banner bearing your gallery information. “what does that banner say?”

“it says my name,” you sniffled, still clutching the flowers and box.

“no, idiot. i'm talking about the quotes.”

“um…” you blinked away tears. “someone truly exceptional…?”

“and?”

“a modern-day van gogh…?”

“one more.”

“art that every being should hope to be privileged enough to experience.”

“good job, you can read!” satoru smiled, giving your shoulders a slight shake. “some snobby rich art critics said that about you. now, stop feeling fucking sorry for yourself and make sure everyone has their attention on you tonight.”

“and deposit the check when you get home,” shoko added.

“yes, please deposit the check,” satoru agreed. “if you lose it, i'll be pissed.”

you wrapped your arms around satoru and shoko, squeezing tight in tearful appreciation. they had no idea… the check would cover over a year’s worth of rent, premium canvases, all fine-haired brushes you could ever want, and even a payment on a car. you swore to yourself that you’d pour your soul into painting them a fucking masterpiece.

“now let go,” satoru said, pushing you away. “and go impress all these high-class art people.”

“okay, okay, i'm going!” you smiled with a sniffle.

wiping your tears away, you waved at your classmates as you walked further into the gallery to greet the small crowd that had arrived. sometime during your conversation, your hands must have stopped trembling.

“you’re gonna be just fine,” you thought to yourself with a grin.

next: part nine

tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

« Importance || Peter B Parker ||

A/n: this was gonna be fore Miguel but I decided it fit Peter a bit better.

Prompt used:

Holding your jacket over your lover’s head as they hide from the rain, finding their formal outfit more important than your casual wear.

Peter knew he messed up when he ended the relationship with you, he couldn’t help but feel bitter when MJ informed him of your new relationship with Harry.

He thought the two we’re friends, that you were off limits but then again he fucked that relationship up too but if you were happy then he could be happy too, right?

Wrong. Miles may have given him the boost of confidence he needed but he wasn’t about to run up to you to confess that he still loved you and that he was an idiot that messed up. Though it seemed that the universe had other plans for him because he never expected to see you standing outside an awning wearing an elegant dress. You hadn’t spotted him of course, you were to busy yelling at someone on your phone.

He knew he shouldn’t butt in, that he should just keep his head hung low and be on his merry way but then it started to rain and you started to curse.

After hanging up on Harry you were about to step out onto the streets until it started to rain, though that was putting it nicely.

Hearing your name being called your eyes went wide for a moment. Peters name falling off your lips in a single breath, you didn’t expect to see him again. You hated the feeling of how your heart lurched, you hated knowing how you still felt the same way for him. “Peter you look good, though you might want to step out of the rain.”

Quickly making his way by your side the man let out a nervous laugh running his fingers through his wet hair. “Ah thanks…you look great, you look wow, you look beautiful.”

Feeling your cheeks warm you averted your eyes for a moment. “Thank you Peter….um I…I should really get home…this looks like it’s going to last all night and I have a feeling I’m going to be soaked…god I spent so much money on this stupid dress.” You muttered.

Opening his mouth for a moment, Peter quickly slipped off his jacket covering you head. “I’ll walk you the rest of the way….I don’t mind.”

Chuckling for a moment you stepped closer to Peters’s side. Still the same sweet man you feel for all those years ago and knowing that he won’t take no for an answer you grasped his hand. “Okay…shall we.”

It was a quiet walk, minus the rain hitting the side walk though you hated the silence. “Me and Harry are done.”

“What?!” Peter hadn’t been paying much attention, he was doing his best to keep you dry. “Shit….I’m sorry.”

“He cheated on me, confessed after our date….apparently he felt guilty. It was a one time thing, it’s who I was yelling at…and wow I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you” though you were grateful that you managed to get back to your little apartment.

Frowning, Peter adverted his eyes. He hated seeing you look so sad. He hated that Harry even had the chance to hurt you because he blamed himself, what could he even say to you.

‘I’m sorry? Ya that’s real nice.’

“Peter you’re talking to yourself?” Placing you hand on his door knob you squeezed it. “It was a little cute though…I.” Biting your lip smoothed out your dress thankfully it was still dry thanks to Peters efforts.

“Shit..I..Okay I’m gonna go. I….I still have the same number if you ever want to hang out and I’m going to stop talking so I’ll stop making an even bigger ass out of myself.”

Shaking your head you grasped his hand before he could leave. “Would you like to come in an dry off?”

“I..”Straighten his back, he gave you a smile. “I’d love too.”

[rippersz]

𝕴𝖙’𝖘 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔𝖔.

«——..✞..——»

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both, gore, toxic love, smutty/suggestive themes, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Reader)

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“The blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.” ~ Sean Glatch

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Turns out, the maintenance crew was due to leave only about two hours after everyone vacated Nevermore to go to the carnival. The only catch was that Larissa had to turn it back on five hours later; some inane thing about a system catch up and not wanting to blow the lights and blah blah blah. She didn’t really seem too concerned, so you figured it wasn’t worth worrying about. Though then again, her level of reaction is often exaggerated around others. A smooth coverup to her consistent undertone of intense apathy. She’s a damn good actress, you have to give her that. Even when around you, she puts a bit more life into her eyes. Into her voice. Into her breath. It’s forced, of course. Yeah. Most definitely. She doesn’t just magically feel more alive because of you. That type of thing doesn’t happen in real life.

…Cannibals, on the other hand, happen far more often than people like to think.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that you’d somehow fall into a weird pseudo-psychotic-relationship with your one day shape-shifting cannibalistic gorgeous boss, you’re pretty sure your younger self would just burst into tears. Or blink maybe- and ask what a ‘cannibal’ was. You wouldn’t have an answer, of course, but that’s neither here nor there.

What’s more important anyway is the fact that you stupidly agreed to meet Larissa by Nevermore’s main entrance at exactly 9:45. You were exhausted after a day of rowdy teenagers and slow classes and it was only at about 7 PM when you remembered that your day wasn’t even over yet. Oh no no no. You still had a game to play. A game that, now as you think of it, standing by the two big doors and waiting for the guest of honor, may just go on well into the night. It depends on how Larissa’s feeling. It depends on what the ‘terms’ are. It depends on if she’s eaten dinner yet and if she has the energy to kill, cook, and clean before everyone gets back.

God you hope that’s not the case.

You really really hope-

“Always on time, I see,” a familiar voice rings through the hall, sounding from the top of the staircase.

Speaking of the fucking thorn in your side.

You turn at the exact moment that Larissa’s kitten heels start click-clacking their way down the stairs… and then promptly fall short of breath at the sight.

You haven’t seen her all day. Not even once. And now there she stands, all 6 feet and however many inches in those shoes and she’s painted against the moonlight that shines through the large windows behind her and the shadows drink her in as the air loses itself in her beauty, stealing away into her lungs and depriving you of oxygen and you, not for the first time, find yourself wondering why it’s so hard to just accept her. To just come to terms with the fact that maybe, if you ignore her insatiable appetite, you may be able to fall asleep in her arms and kiss her peacefully without feeling shame. Why can’t you just push guilt aside and fall into her body and let her pick you up and surround you and finally feel safe? And why oh why can you not take your fucking eyes off of her goddamn body? Jesus you are barely holding yourself together as she drags one slender hand down the bannister, making eye contact with you as she prowls. Those crystal eyes take on a dark, nearly black hue in the grey of the evening and you find yourself ashamed of the fact that you can’t look away from them.

Perhaps some sins are meant to be indulged in.

Her crimson lips curl into a placating close-mouthed smile. Her skin and hair are as pale and pristine as ever. Her perfume, as she gets closer, is heavier- spicier- but the intoxication of scent is the least of your worries. Oh no; the thing you’re most concerned about is the dress. Never have you ever seen her wear red. Not in your five and a half years of working at Nevermore. Not even in your dreams. Larissa doesn’t touch deep colors. She doesn’t wear the darker shades.

And yet?

Yet, there she is. Torturing you. Wrapping her long slim fingers around your attention span and taking all of it for herself. ‘Mine,’ is what she’s silently saying as she gives her hips some extra sway and shows off the loose sash around her waist. The dress reveals the curve of her calves and the tiniest bit of her thighs and suddenly you come to the (stupid) realization that she’s not wearing any stockings. Which she always wears. Which somehow, the absence of, makes your brain short-circuit and recalculate.

“Thank you for meeting me.” And before you even know it, there the Big Bad stands - hands clasped at her waist and head tilted to the side, looking like the cat who did not only catch the canary but also skinned, filleted, and served the little fucker up on a silver platter.

You feel the need to glare at her, to curse her for her beauty and her allure, but you simply can’t muster up the energy to do so. You’re tired- and your emotions are frayed- and you just want to rest- but clearly someone doesn’t want you to be at peace just yet. No, clearly, she wants you all to herself for just a little while. You’re not sure why, you’ve contemplated it before, but dwelling on anything regarding Larissa Weems is a spiraling whirl of insanity and despair that you just don’t wanna go down right now. So it’s better to stay in the present… and give her a little hum while you cross your arms. If she’s noticed that you take on such a defensive stance whenever she’s around, she hasn’t said anything. And she probably won’t either. Cuz she doesn’t care.

“Yup. Are we gonna get this over with or what?” It comes out harsher than you want it to, forcing your organs to immediately crinkle up like smashed paper as you cringe at your sharp tone.

Larissa fairs no better as her expression falls and her lips twist into a frown. The lines of her face become deeper when she looks so depressed, like she hasn’t slept in 80 years. You want so terribly to tell her to suck it up and stop acting like a baby, but you also know that her excitement about fun and friendliness is not a thing she fakes. The Poe Cup excites her. The Nevermore dances and activities and Outreach Day and this, that, and the other all bring her some modicum of joy. The kids themselves make her happy. It’s weird to know a person who has killed another human being and enjoyed the taste of their flesh… while also finding happiness in the simple annual events of their job. Like she has an alter ego; but you know that’s not the case. She’s 100% herself. Which is both admirable and scary.

“If you don’t want to,” Larissa hisses, making you freeze at the sound of undeniable ice in her tone, “then don’t make me force you. Go to bed, if you so wish. I’m not going to keep you against your will.”

Like a monster. She doesn’t say it, but you think that maybe she’s thinking it.

And though you want to respond and say But you are a monster. You have kept people against their will before. You have killed before. you decide to steer the conversation to safer shores and get yourself out of harm's way. Larissa doesn’t often get serious with you, but whenever she does it, you know better than to push her buttons. Certain boundaries have not yet been established. You never know if you are safe.

“Sorry- sorry. I’m just tired. Really, I’m fine. Let’s play and then we can get some rest. That sound okay?”

A dark gaze pins you to your spot, staring into the very marrow of your bones. It’s clear what she’s thinking. It’s clear what she knows. Like she knows you’re just agreeing to save your own hide. She knows you’re complying out of fear. She can’t hear your heartbeat, but she knows it’s running faster than a speeding train. She knows she’s shifted the line once again.

The only thing is that she really can’t bring herself to care.

You’ve complied. That’s all she needs.

“…Fine. Yes. Are you ready to discuss the terms?”

It’s obvious that the tension hasn’t dissipated entirely, but you figure that as the night carries on, that will change.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Who knows? It may even be fun.

Larissa smiles.

It’s wide.

It’s.. scary.

Sharp.

A Cheshire grin.

Cold. Steely. It doesn’t reach her eyes. You feel sweat start to bead along your back.

“In the name of saving time, there will be one round. I will seek. You will hide. We will have 45 minutes in total. However, you will get a 20 second head start. Should I manage to find and catch you in under 45 minutes, you’ll join me for dinner. The main course will be poached lamb. And you will be required to eat it.” There’s a pause.

“All of it.”

Okay not fun. DEFINITELY not fun. So incredibly not fun.

You swallow.

“…And if I win?”

Then what? Then what if you win? What the fuck do you get out of this? What could she possibly give y-

“Then I will give it up.”

…What?

You look at her wildly. But there’s no expression on her face. She’s just… blank. White behind the eyes. Nothing. Apathetic.

No.

No.

Practiced indifference.

She doesn’t think you can win.

She doesn’t even want to consider you winning.

But all is fair in love and cannibalism. And she’s never been one to tip the scales.

“I’m sorry, you’ll what?” You’re just not sure you’ve heard her correctly. She’ll ‘give it up’?

Larissa sighs, her lashes fluttering as she purses her lips and gives you a ‘look’.

“If you win, I’ll give it up.”

…And that’s it? That’s all she’s gonna give you?

“What do you even mean? Give up the whole killing people and eating them thing? The-” You look around, suddenly nervous about a creature somehow lurking in the shadows. One can never be too careful. Probably best that you don’t speak so loudly. “-the cannibalism?” Your body leans closer to her as you whisper, though your eyes stray and scan the shadowed columns and walls of the entrance hall.

Larissa of course takes that opportunity to get closer to you and bends down at the waist, lining her lips up to your ear while you’re distracted.

“Yes, darling. I’ll give up the cannibalism.” And her voice is so husky and her breath is so warm, flushed against the side of your neck, that you nearly fall right to your knees.

I’ll give up the cannibalism.

Oh you could laugh. You could laugh and you could laugh hard. She’s joking- she has to be. And you’re about to tell her that, you’re about to turn your head and tell her not to fuck around with you, but then your cheeks brush and suddenly you’re letting out an embarrassing squeak and stumbling back to hit the door behind you.

She blinks, straightens up, and smiles down at you as though nothing ever happened.

It’s infuriating.

“You’re lying. You wouldn’t do that.”

A light eyebrow quirks up.

“Wouldn’t I?”

A heavy staring contest ensues; but you’re the only one trying not to blink - Larissa is just looking. And smirking. And god fuck her for being so fucking gorgeous.

“I’m a woman of my word, Y/n,” she purrs, watching with such amusement as you desperately try to collect yourself and steer yourself back on track.

Not that the track was very clear nor sane in the first place. In fact, the track probably leads to Hell.

Oh well.

You were never getting through the pearly gates anyway.

“Okay,” you decide, looking her up and down. “If I win, you stop it. All of it. No more killing, eating, nothing. The only protein you consume comes from livestock. Not human livestock. Just- livestock.” You nod to yourself, giving her a firm stare.

But just because you reaffirmed what happens if you win doesn’t mean you will. And she knows that. So she hums and turns on one heel, taking her burning gaze away from you and sweeping it over the floors and walls- down into the darkness of the corridors. You don’t know what she’s thinking, but you have a feeling it’s not good. Larissa can be very sneaky when she wants to be… cheating, at least in a playful little game like the one you’ll be having, is certainly not below her. In fact, she’s entirely capable of winning. Like on a level you could not even imagine. She’s been around Nevermore for how long? Counting her years in the Academy as a student and as an adult… knowing her roommate used to be the cunning and sly Morticia Frump neé Addams… well. Her big sexy shapeshifter brain probably has the entire fucking place memorized.

And you haven’t even been there for six years.

So you’re saying you’re doomed.

Yeah. Basically.

“Yes,” Larissa finally confirms, turning back to you with a quick shift of her legs. “And if I win, you dine with me.” Oh she looks so excited about that. Her eyes, somehow, are darker than they were before. No light reflects at all as they carve into your soul. Already you can tell that she’s imagining how she’ll cook the meat.

“…Poached lamb, you said?”

She grins, her smile sudden like she’s surprised (and delighted) that you remembered.

“Yes. Would you like to know what other dishes I’ll be preparing?”

At the sound of her cheery tone, your expression sets into a scowl.

“You’re talking as if you’ve won already. What makes you think that’ll happen?”

Her physical response is minuscule. Barely even there. But you notice the slight way in which her cheek twitches; and you see how her hands tighten around each other. When she responds, her red lips are curved into a smirk and her voice is soft. Soft and kind. It sends a blaze of hot warmth across your body.

“I find acting as though you already have the thing you want tends to result in obtaining it.” Her head tilts. Her eyes run over your body. From your feet to your head, over the swaying black cotton dress you’re wearing and the necklaces you have draped over your collarbones. Slow and steady. Tracing your arms… your legs… your shoulders… your waist… your breasts and your hair… not hungry for your flesh in her stomach, but hungry for your skin against her tongue. Your skin against her lips. Your skin against her own. She lets out a sigh. “And I want you.”

It’s breathed out into the night - and accompanied by the sudden loud chime of Nevermore’s clock tower.

You jump at the sound of it, immediately slapping a hand over your heart in shock.

“Goddammit! That fucking thing gets me every time.” It’s definitely not the thing to be focusing on, but you’re not sure you have the mental capacity to pick through and understand the implications behind Larissa’s words. As it is, the change of the hour means you have even less time to play before the rest of the staff and the children return.

Larissa, of course, did not jump out of her bloody skin. Instead, she watched your body tense and your eyes widen with no small amount of fondness. She thought you were silly. Adorable. Hers.

“I suppose that’s our cue, then. Are you ready to begin?” Her white teeth glimmer when she turns to glance up at the staircase.

You feel your heart start to thump within your ears.

Always the little lamb, aren’t you darling?

Yes.

Always the prey.

Yes.

Meant to be hunted.

Yes.

Meant to be found.

Yes.

No.

Wait. …Meant to be found?

No...

No no no no no no.

Not meant to be found. Not meant to be found at all. The whole point is not to be found. The whole point is to escape.

Oh? What are you escaping from? There is no one here to hurt you. There is no one here to get you. You are safe. You are safe.

Oh if only that were true…

If only she could love you without wanting to swallow you whole.

You finally sigh, resigned and tired.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Larissa.”

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Can you tell I’m hyperfixating on her? Thank you so much for the love. (Let’s just pretend Nevermore’s clocktower works. And the power being out will come into play in the next part ;)) - Rip x

(P.S. Tell me who you want to win in the game of hide and seek.)

(P.P.S. Most of the meat referenced in this series is code for human flesh. ‘Long pork’, for example, is the official name for human. Here, the ‘poached lamb’ and other types mentioned in future is also code. Thx.)

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[bullet-prooflove]

Jujube: Sonny Quinn x Reader

Tagging: @switchbladeclub @kind-wolf @@mariashane @floydsglasses  @firecountryqueen666 @caffeinatedwoman @@kmc1989 @sca3a @jeysbae @hufflepuffgirl @hgs-11 @meera10 @f1babe98 @angelnyx finiteuniverse13

Sonny calls you his jujube. It starts as something to make you blush because the first time he’d said it, he’d had his head between your legs and was licking up the mess he’d just made of you.

“You taste as sweet as a jujube.” He’d mumbled against your thigh before he’d devoured you all over again.

It had stuck after that because there’d been a fifteen minute debate about what a jujube actually was.

He thinks about that when he’s trapped inside of the torpedo tube on the edge of drowning. The water’s lapping over his face, saturating his beard, stinging his eyes. His neck aches as he tries to keep his head up but his nose bumps against the smooth metal because there’s nowhere else to go. He’s going to die in here and you will never know how he feels.

This thing between the two of you it may have started off as casual, something to keep him occupied between deployments but it’s quickly become more than that. It’s sunshine and happiness and all the good things in life, everything he’d been lacking until he met you.

“Clay.” He says over the comms system as the water splashes over his forehead. “Clay buddy, I need you to do something for me.”

“You want me to sing the Longhorns fight song?” Clay responds, his voice a welcome sound over the radio. “Because I  gotta say it sounds much better with your accent.”

“Nah man, you’d just ruin it anyway.” Sonny smiles despite his predicament. “It’s about my Jujube, I need you to tell her…”

He trails off then because the emotion in his chest, it’s too much. He closes his eyes and he remembers the morning before his deployment, the two of you together in his sheets, your fingertips chasing over his tattoos as he held you close.

If he had known that was the last time…

“Tell Jujube I loved her, that what we had, it meant the world to me.”

“Sonny…” Clay chides and Sonny can hear the anguish in his  voice.

“It’s important to me.” Sonny tells him, his voice breaking just a little. “It’s important that she knows that she’s more, that she’s always been more.”

There’s silence for a moment as the radio crackles and Sonny knows what that means. If Clay agrees they’re both acknowledging what’s about to happen, that they’re not going to get Sonny out of the tube, that he’s going to die.  

“I’ll tell her.” Clay says quietly. “I promise you brother, I will.”

Sonny drowns after that. He stays dead for three minutes before they bring him back into the world choking and spluttering, coughing up his own lungs.

On the plane ride home he’s a little antsy, his knee jingles and his fingertips tap out a tune on his thigh. He plugs his headphones into his ears and he listens to your playlist, the one with all the songs  that remind him of the key moments from your relationship.

First kiss, first date, first time.

He clings to each of those memories until he gets his feet back on the tarmac. It’s everything he can do to get his ass to the carpark outside of base where he knows you’ll be waiting for him.

When he sees you standing there alongside your beat up Chevy, something inside of him just settles. You’re wearing that pretty summer dress he likes, the one he’s ruined you in multiple times and a pair of worn cowboy boots.

You’re in his arms in a matter of seconds and Sonny, he does not want to let you go. Back in that tube, he didn’t think he was going to get to experience this again so he holds onto you as tightly as he can, his lips brushing over your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth.

When he kisses you it’s like the sun breaking through the clouds after months of rain. All of that darkness, that fear that’s plagued him it evaporates and there’s just you, always you.

“You are everything to me.” He says fiercely as he cradles your face between his hands. “Absolutely everything.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[theeluvian]

Never Wanted for Anything Else

1.5k words, I'm not very good at long fics haha, I'd rather jump straight into the action of it all! No spoilers, just regular smut here

There have been women in his past, but Emmrich has never loved as dearly and honestly as he does with Rook.

Everything she does, everything she says, everything she is, it is all perfect, and he loses himself in her every time they’re together alone. It is in those moments that he forgets his fear of death, for she has taught him how to live in the now, and that is what he cherishes the most. 

Instances like this in particular.

A peaceful morning for once, waking up to the dawning light in Treviso, nestled up together in some inn that Lucanis recommended. It is rare that they get to sleep through the night like this, as whenever they visit Antiva it is already dark, and at the lighthouse it is never ending day.

Emmrich is the first of the two to awaken, Rook curled up in his embrace and he can’t help the smile, nor would he ever fight it in her presence. This is something rare, a treasured situation that there isn’t room for at their home in the fade - physically, at least, as the only bed large enough for two to be comfortable in is owned by Davrin.

He gazes at her blissful expression as she slumbers on, breathing calm and slow and warm against his chest. With ever the greatest care, he brushes aside a few strands of hair from her cheek and runs his thumb across her smooth and youthful cheek.

If only he was a younger man, somewhere around her age and not this old, they could have a full and long life together. But this is when they were destined to meet, and from the day she walked into his life they haven’t spent a day apart, and so it shall be for as long as they both exist.

“I sense there’s something on your mind,” Rook speaks suddenly and softly, voice heavy with drowsiness.

“Oh, darling, I didn’t mean to wake you-”

“I’m glad you did.” She looks up at him with the sweetest, kindest smile, and he wants to kiss her something so dearly. “So what are you thinking about?”

“Just… how happy I am here with you.” Emmrich smiles back in the same sense as Rook.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I could not imagine myself in a better place than this, and nor would I want to.”

“I know what you mean. It’s nice to get some respite from all that which worries us each.” She snuggles deeper into his embrace, forehead pressed against his chest. “It’s sweet of you to put it into words.”

“Like I always say, I choose my words very carefully.”

“And you always choose the perfect ones, too,” she laughs and meets his gaze again as she moves up to kiss his lips.

A sensation ever so precious to Emmrich. Sure he enjoys doing a lot of things with her and to her, but kissing is a particular joy for him, and the way she smiles into the meeting of lips makes the butterflies he thought gone soar right back into his chest, fluttering about with wings of joy.

So he tightens his arms around her, pulling them as close together as possible, legs intertwining till there’s not an inch of air between them. He is so lost in their kisses that he doesn’t notice where Rook’s hand is going till her fingertips meet the flesh of his cock, and just as well, he hadn’t noticed his growing erection sooner than when she wraps her hand around him and starts stroking, slow and gentle. 

“Ah, oh dear, you don’t have to,” he utters with hitched breaths.

“I want to, don’t you?” Her motion doesn’t halter for a second.

“I certainly do, so much that it is all consuming of my self.”

“Good. That is exactly what I wish from you. To want me so much that it makes you forget everything else,” she whispers against his neck before leaving a trail of warm kisses that makes it bloom with pleasure wherever she’s been.

“I do - you are ever the most important thing on my mind, and the most consistent one, too.” With one arm stuck between Rook’s naked body and the soft mattress, Emmrich lets his one freed hand wander downward as well, reaching for the space between her legs the best he can. “My word, you are eager, aren’t you?”

His fingers gets covered in the wetness of her lust as he slips a few digits between her labia, and then brings those fingers a bit upwards to touch her clit with just the amount of force needed for her to start humming against his skin where she continuously kisses.

“Hmm, the things you do to me, Emmrich, there are no words for it.”

“I feel the same, my dearest.”

“The best I can do is continue to show you.”

She lifts up her leg onto his side, guides his lengthy erection to her opening, and he doesn’t need to be told to enter before sliding into her soaked pussy.

It is always better than the previous time they spent together like this; pure ecstasy that comes from love and devotion to another person, emotions that grow stronger every day, and the need ever bigger. Emmrich wants to kiss her with such desperation, but she’s acting the tease, leaning away when he moves in after her lips, his own parted with slight moans, hers in an open-mouthed smile as they share every breath together.

Once he is fully inserted in her he pauses there, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Rook’s as he takes his time to sense every muscle that clenches around his shaft, the warmth that embraces him, her eager wetness that made it so easy for him to slip in. And when he opens his eyes again, she’s staring straight into his soul.

Emmrich starts slow, moving all the way till just the tip is pressing against her hole, then pushes inside again till he can’t go any deeper, a pace that they both enjoy every inch of.

He has truly found his soulmate in her.

Little by little he increases his thrusting, and she finally lets him kiss her properly, deeply, passionately, swallowing every single gasp and moan that she offers him.

Meanwhile her hands move into his hair, a rare thing as he usually likes to keep it neat and tidy, but her driving fingers through his graying hair while it already is a mess from sleeping is a thing he allows and enjoys well enough.

Then in one swift move, their bodies move as one entity as they roll till Rook is on her back, both legs quickly surrounding Emmrich and locking him in on top. It is the better position, his favorite in fact, so that she can just relax and enjoy being ravished by him and his adoration.

He feels quite the lucky man to be able to see his dear Rook like this, like no one ever does - vulnerable. This is the peak of perfection, the way she moans, her brows raised, eyes meeting his gaze, it is all so dear to his heart, and he can’t tell her for words lack everything to express his love for her. So he simply kisses her, again and again and again, thrusting a little faster, going deep till there’s nothing more to give.

By the way Rook’s whimpers and moans grow needier and quicker, he can tell that she’s getting closer to a final crescendo, so to help her feel the best she can, he licks his fingers without breaking eye contact, leads his hand down between them and starts massaging her clit at a pace that will be punishing for his wrist later, but her joy is most important.

And immediately there’s a slight, “Yes, oh-” urged forth from her lips, and mere moments later her entire body tenses up beneath him - around him, and as he knows how she likes it, he goes as fast as his body will allow for.

She calls his name between Ohs and Ahs, riding out the wave on his cock. Her euphoria blends into his, making his eyes roll back and lids close as he, too, cums most brilliantly inside of the love of his life till he can barely keep himself raised above her, arms weak with exhaustion. It is like a thunderstorm inside him reaching its splendid peak before fading out and leaving him ever so pleased, and once it has subsided, he, calm and collected, lowers himself down to lie on top of Rook and inside of her arms’ grasp. 

“Oh dear, I worry that we might have awoken all of Treviso this time,” he huffs out with a light laugh.

“They would be so lucky to have us to hear, I’d say,” Rook speaks, weak from the tryst, and Emmrich chuckles in response.

[to-the-stars8]

Reviving Love

Jason Todd x Reader AO3

Chapter 2

Jason hadn’t meant to stalk your Instagram page, but it was too tempting. Your profile was public and you posted just the right amount that he could put pieces of your life together from the time he died to the present. Eventually, he had scrolled down far enough that he surprisingly found a picture of you and him.

By the shit mid-2000s Instagram filter and the poor iPhone quality, it had to be right when the two of you started dating. Jason subconsciously ran a hand over his cheek, feeling the stubble and small scar on his jawline as he stared down at the smooth-skinned, rosy-cheeked boy in the photo. It had been before the years got to him, and it was almost an anomaly to see himself so content. He’d forgotten he had been at one point.

Jason shut off the phone, the picture brought him back to reality. Even if he did see you again, he felt too unattractive to ever approach you. No, the scars on his body and the bitterness that hung off every word he said would probably turn you away. He sat on his bed, thinking about how if you saw him again you would probably be deeply disappointed. 

And, scared because, as far as you knew, he was dead. That much would be obvious. 

Jason cursed Dick again for bringing you up. He didn’t know if it was pathetic or not that he was thinking of an old flame from back when he was a little more than a teenager. Surely, you probably hadn’t thought of him in years as it looked like you had moved on with your life. In any case, he was happy about it and tried to do the same. 

The only time he’d ever thought of you before was when you popped up occasionally in his dreams. He’d wake up, and wonder what the fuck that was about. Then he would get up to work out, cook, or anything else so he wouldn’t dwell too much on the thought of you. 

This time, Jason got up to get something to eat as hunger was starting to burn at the corners of his stomach. When he opened the fridge, the light illuminating the dark room, there was nothing. Well, almost nothing. There was a pickle jar, expired cheese, and some beers but nothing that would constitute a good meal for a growing boy as Alfred would say. Defeated and hungry, Jason resigned himself to the horrible fate of having to leave his apartment to go to the store. Groaning, he pulled on some pants and a hoodie before grabbing his keys. 

It wasn’t too late in the evening so plenty of people were still going about, leaving work to return home or going out for the night. Honestly, Jason didn’t find it all too bad. In fact, in a certain light, Gotham could be nice. In a late eighties neo-noir kind of way. The sound of the people on the street with the traffic in the background under the light rainfall made Jason feel at home. It was the diamond in the rough. 

The light rain was a nice relief from the lately warmer weather as summer was finally fading away to let autumn in. Luckily, the store was right around the corner from his apartment, so being outside in the light drizzle wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. 

The store owners greeted him as he entered. Another thing he liked was this part of Gotham, the one not seen by people like Bruce. It was familiarity, a general tough, arms-length kindness that was much appreciated by him. 

“We’ve got those cigarettes you like so much, Jason,” The old man said. “Those imported ones, ya know?” 

“You know I can’t pass those up,” Jason laughed. “Let me grab some groceries and I’ll come back up here to grab ‘em.” 

With a laugh, Jason playfully waved off the old guy as he did the same, wandering down one of the many aisles. Bread, cheese, meat, and soda—The meal made for a growing boy. Jason wandered up and down for a little while, pausing at the selection of condoms before laughing to himself. Nah, he wouldn’t need those any time soon. 

He was about to turn down another aisle when he bumped into someone. “Shit, sorry,” He said, finally looking up. 

Just his fuckin’ luck, he had bumped into you.

[envyenvys]

Stobin Mandalorian AU part 1

(aka s3 stobin accidentally acquire a magic baby)

[You Are Here] [2] [3] [4]

It’s Robin that first hears the baby crying. She insists it’s coming from the vents on her right side — Steve’s left — but the concussion’s left everything kind of soupy so it takes him a few minutes to pick it out from the ever-present hum of the gate-laser and the rush of blood through his own ears. Once he notices it though, it’s hard to stop.

It’s a sad, lonely sort of crying that makes his heart ache. Robin makes a dubious sort of noise when he mentions this and insists that it’s probably just hungry — which Steve has to admit is likely, none of the Russians they’ve met so far can really be described as ‘nurturing’ — but something in his gut tells him that’s not it.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before the Russians come back with the doctor, and then they have a whole new set of problems to worry about.

The mysterious blue goop makes everything a million times soupier and having pliers around his fingernail is not great, but then Dustin and Erica are there and everything’s great again. Super great, even.

“Can you two hurry up?” Dustin hisses, pulling Steve upright when he starts to list to the side.

It’s a little difficult to navigate when your head is soup and your bones are blue and goopy and you’re bleeding from at least three places you weren’t bleeding from this morning, and Steve makes a valiant attempt to tell Dustin this because it’s important information he needs to know. He starts, then stops because he can barely hear himself over the siren and honestly this is just like earlier when he was trying to hear the— oh right.

“Baby,” Steve says, and Robin whips her head around in slow motion to stare at the vent.

“Did you just call me a baby?” Dustin demands, shoving them into the hallway.

“Nooo, no, no,” Steve insists. He takes two steps in the direction Dustin is going, then checks to see where the vent leads. It’s going in the other direction. He turns around. “Baby. The baby. Gotta get the baby.”

“It’s hungry,” Robin says decisively, even though Steve’s almost positive that’s not the problem.

“I don’t know why these two idiots are so focused on it but I did hear a baby,” Erica says, and Dustin groans.

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think I was the only one around here with working ears,” she says scathingly. “Clearly I was wrong.”

Steve and Robin are already halfway down the hall. Robin stops, cocking her head like a bird, and gasps.

“I hear it! This way!”

She books it around a corner, and she might be only going half as fast as she usually does but she’s still a lot faster than Steve. He stumbles after her, clutching at the weird tubes on the wall for support.

“Get back here!” Dustin hisses, tugging at Steve’s arm. “We have to go!”

“Steve!” Robin shouts at the top of her lungs. “I found the baby!”

Steve manages to drag both himself and Dustin around the corner and into a small room with a metal door. Clearly he needs to start making Dustin exercise because he should not be weaker than Steve is when his bones are soup. Dustin should have solid bones — he drinks a lot of milk, and it’s like, scientifically proven that milk makes your bones stronger. It’s that vitamin — or is it a mineral? Ca— Cancer? No, wrong one. Ca-something. Robin would know.

Anyway Dustin has strong bones so obviously it’s a muscle thing that’s the reason why his arms are really weak and Steve should make him play basketball about it.

Robin’s holding a baby.

“Put that down,” Dustin insists, letting go of Steve to gesture at Robin. She pouts and cuddles the baby closer.

It’s such a cute, perfect baby too. Steve stumbles closer so he can look at the perfect baby. It has soft wisps of brown hair and squishy pink cheeks, and when Robin smooths a thumb over those squishy baby cheeks it stops crying and opens its big brown eyes.

“Steve,” Robin says, staring at him with her own wide eyes, “it’s a girl baby.”

“She’s perfect,” Steve whispers, and he wants to hold her so so bad but he can’t even hold himself up right now and the only thing worse than not holding her is dropping her so he has to leave her with Robin even though it kind of makes him want to cry.

He’s always wanted a baby.

“Okay,” he turns back to Dustin, who’s looking very stressed. “Now we can go.”

“What do you mean ‘now we can go’?”

“We have the baby, let’s go!”

“We can’t just steal a baby!”

“Yes we can,” Robin says, and starts walking out the door. “See? We’re stealing her. Easy peasy.”

“But—!”

“Let’s go, nerd!” Erica says, shoving them all out of the room. “Cry about it later, we need to leave!”

Steve stops to grab a few baby things, though there isn’t much. A white blanket, a few cloth diapers, and a thick stack of folders — the last of which aren’t baby things, but he assumes they’ll be important anyway. The stitching on the corner of the blanket reads ‘Два’, the same as the label on her metal crib.

“Aba,” he mutters, following them to the weird red car. “Like the band?”

Well, it’s probably a beautiful name for a baby girl. In Russian.

[Next]

[turtleations]

Interview with YOSHIKI - Translation

Published in the hide BIBLE (by Akemi Oshima) 2008

Note: I wrote much earlier that I was not going to do this particular "interview" (aka free commentary after one single prompt of the interviewer) because it doesn't actually offer any information not available in plenty of other places, but since I'm doing every single other interview in that book, it felt weird to leave it out in the end. And since it's so short, I ended up doing an actual translation rather than a "summary", although I am not happy with it.

It's still long enough to warant a cut:

It’s great that you were playing your new song at the X JAPAN reunion concert at the Tokyo Dome.

Regarding “Without You” (the song YOSHIKI dedicated to HIDE), I also thought about the magnificent version performed at the Tokyo Dome, but this time there was no time for it. Whether it’ll be overseas or in Japan, I’m thinking about maybe doing the next one in a pattern that will develop into something spectacular. Regarding “I.V.” (the song using HIDE’s guitar track), I thought it would turn out cool to have the audience sing the first part before returning to Japan and then later add sound effects and the band parts. Therefore, I told the band members on the second day of the performance, “Until everyone starts the big chorus, I won’t be drumming at all.” It was really exciting, wasn’t it?

Anyhow, this time there was a lot of preparation to do, but, not limited to the hologram, things related to HIDE are of the most importance now. I started that work quite early in Los Angeles. So far, I’ve chosen a good take of HIDE’s from that live and singled out only his part. We perform while listening to this sound of HIDE’s, but it took an enormous amount of time for the sequence for that to be created. Still, it was not enough to invoke a live-feel, so for that song, SUGIZO joined us as the first guest-guitarist to play along with HIDE’s image.

When remembering HIDE, what left the deepest impression? In the end, that would be something that once happened when we went to have dinner together. I am bad at picking out fish bones. I was livid, saying, “How can I eat this?”, and next to me, HIDE went, “Wait a moment, I’ll take them out,” and cleanly separated all the bones for me (laughs). Because of things like this, he was like a mother.

As a musician, HIDE was the type who thought about things very attentively. For example, X’s songs are ensemble pieces, and I, the one who sees those vertical sounds, am the one for the ultimate details, but on the other hand, there are also things I have a rough grasp of, and it felt like HIDE was right there in between those two extremes. Therefore, filling in the duties left by HIDE for our live this time has been terrible, I think.

But, to me, HIDE had been a friend before he was a band member. Way back, HIDE came to recruit me for his band. Next, I tried to recruit HIDE. That day, I went to Yokohama’s “7th Avenue” to see a SAVER TIGER live, and I brought LADIESROOM’s George along. “Today, we’re off to get HIDE!” “Are we?” Like that (laughs). Therefore, after the live, when everyone was having an afterparty, I said in front of them all, “HIDE, join X!” Which didn’t result in much of a fight, somehow.

At that time, HIDE smoothed it over by telling me, “Let’s talk about it more slowly later.” He, too, had been betting his life on SAVER TIGER. And I had come in with a special attack like that (laughs). George had been surprised. “Please have those talks in secret, or at least not where all the members are gathered,” he said. But since talk like that tends to leak anyway, I figured it would be better do it right in front of everyone to begin with (laughs).

While there were episodes like that, eventually, SAVER TIGER ended up disbanding. I got a phone call from HIDE then. “I’m thinking about giving up music,” he said. When I told him, “Then, isn’t it better to just do so?” and heard “Eh? You’re not trying to get me to join your band?” in reply, I answered, “That’s your decision, that’s why,” and HIDE was surprised. I think I was waiting for the words, “Well, I’ll join X,” but HIDE did not say that.

When HIDE asked, “Would it be okay for me to come watch X’s rehearsal?” two or three days later, I said, “Yeah, come.” While he watched the rehearsal, HIDE appeared to be deep in thought. In those days, we often went drinking after rehearsing, but this day, after making the invitation, “Let’s go drinking!”, HIDE immediately said, “I’m joining X.” I’d somehow known that already, but it still caused big excitement.

At that point, X’s fixed members were only TOSHI and me, and so HIDE got personal invitations from a lot of different bands who wanted him to join them. Because of that, he met with a lot of people. But in the end, HIDE always cut them off with “I’m with X, that’s why.” “But, X is only drums and vocals?”, he was then told. I think it’s great that TOSHI stood his ground in this. Because guitarists had come and gone, come and gone over and over.

I think X was a band not affiliated with any genre. It was not thrash metal, not orthodox hard rock, I liked punk, but the songs we made were too melodious for that and I also liked music in a classical style. The more I talked about the sound I wanted to create, the more chaos there was among the members. Because of this, we separated from other bands more and more. I think that that while HIDE had courage to jump into that, he must have approved of us and our style in the first place. When HIDE told me, “I don’t understand it, but it looks like you’re creating something big, YOSHIKI. I’ll wager on that,” I gained confidence. “You will dash forward, so I will follow you,” he said.

HIDE got along well with the music critics. But I always had to fight with them. For example, one time, a certain critic called them to some issakaya [restaurant that also serves alcohol] in a very positive manner, saying, “Let’s think about the future of X.” Because the period in which a band like ours got positive attention from music critics was like a lifeline. But there we were told, “If all the members sported black hair and an army look, X could be a success,” and I flipped out and asked him “Are you an idiot?” HIDE tried to calm me down with “Wait a second. Please take it easy,” but I was like, “Shut up! I’m going to beat this fucker up!” (laughs)

Even though HIDE said, „It they hate us any more, it’s over for us,” I said something like, “That doesn’t matter. We’re going to perform on TV,” and just went home. At that time, rock bands never went on TV. Even after our debut, I was told by the people from the record company that TV appearances were rare, but the more they said so, the more I wanted to do it. About this, HIDE said, “I don’t really understand it, but if YOSHIKI says we should, then we will. I’ll follow you.” He always took that position.

Mentally, we were perfectly punk. Regardless of the quality of something, we wanted to dare going to places where we would be laughed at for doing what we did, or where it was not allowed. We had that strange kind of self-confidence since long ago, and I think HIDE understood that as well. For example, my background is in classical music, and so I thought there was no way I would be defeated if they talked about music, and just wanted to face them head on.

But before I could get that across to the other person, I just lost my temper. Here, HIDE interpreted for me, saying, “Actually, what YOSHIKI wanted to say is this.” At that time, he did that a lot. This isn’t a real thing we used, but HIDE would say things like, “That’s on page 60 of the YOSHIKI user manual.” (laughs) Is it okay to perform this action at that time, in a case like this, that’s what he’s saying, and so on. HIDE explained it like that to a lot of people (laughs).

In that sense, too, HIDE felt a lot like a mother. When he died, it felt like losing family. Although we are now standing on stage at Tokyo Dome like this, TOSHI was simply a childhood friend at first, and the same goes for HIDE. Before they are members of my band, they feel like members of my family. That’s why… It’s strange, isn’t it, this kind of thing.

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Interlude 1: Rangi- Damn

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: (Future me edit: Phew! Glad you guys seemed to like the little twist at the end, was a little nervous ngl TT0TT Also YAY! I CAN FINALLY START SHARING THE RANGI CHAPTERS! *sobs* so excited and haha oh man now I’m nervous akfjskfdaj)

(back to past me:) Heyyyyyy it’s POV switch time, just like The Hunt For Kyoshi’s: The Hunter and The Hunted chapters :’D

I only had this POV flip planned so………u_u but hey! It’s like 3 chapters worth in one chapter so :’D Wait…3 chapters….. *looks at the length of this chapter vs the others* Oh someone save meeeeeee TT0TT Haha this is gonna be a long chapter-Oh wait I’m getting a call. Ahuh. Hmm. Yup… 27 pages????......AND YOU AREN’T DONE……. THREE CHAPTERS AND NOT ONE?! Ok We’re splitting this into three chapters sorry. :’D

I underestimated how much Rangi yaps. u_u Pining more than a damn pine tree.

Me from the future (again): *stumbles in* Heyyyyy-o. Oh boi. Um….yes. So….THIS chapter was supposed to be chapter 4, but then I changed it. :’D So like….just remember how these were written/structured: Kyoshi’s first 3 chapters, and then Rangi’s first three chapters, then chapters 4-6, then Rangi’s 4th chapter (that 4th chapter wasn’t originally going to exist too jaklfjds. Man this fic has been shuffled about more than a deck of cards kjfdslafjs

____

Rangi was an idiot. She couldn’t believe that she walked all the way down to the kitchen, and had forgotten to tell Kyoshi the one important news she wanted to relay to her! She cursed that Aoma girl and her cronies for bullying Kyoshi, because they’d distracted her as well. Instead of telling Kyoshi the good news of Master Kelsang returning from a relief mission early, she was trying to give the giant girl tips on how to defend herself.

All those tips falling on deaf ears, as usual. 

She slowly and silently made her way back down to the ruckus kitchen. She heard them from the hallway, something about singing a dirty song or something about unrequited love. She really hoped Kyoshi wasn’t still wasting her time down there. 

“Kyoshi next!” someone said, and the sound of Kyoshi’s name made Rangi stop on the stairs. “She’s never here, so let’s make the most of it!”

Rangi stood in the middle of the staircase, just out of sight from the kitchen. Unsure of what to do. On one hand, she was annoyed that her hunch was right, and Kyoshi was still down there. But on the other hand, she wondered if Kyoshi was going to join in. If she was going to sing. What her singing voice sounded like. What she was going to sing about. 

She stood there, heart thrumming in her chest to the beat of the kitchen appliances.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul / they draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi’s eyes widened as she heard Kyoshi’s singing voice for the first time. It was such a lovely alto. Her voice was smooth, strong and rich. 

The kitchen howled. Someone clucked in disapproval. “Keep going, you naughty girl!” a voice shouted.

Oh, right, she supposed she should be listening to the lyrics. She shook her head, as much as she’d love to listen to Kyoshi’s voice. The song itself might give her an indication on if Kyoshi liked someone.

Let’s see, something about bronze and fire? Rangi’s heart leapt at the thought of the second description, but tapered it down. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. 

“I’ve got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I’ll wind it with yours and we’ll drift off course / in a ship touching hearts all the while.”

Kyoshi drummed on, more percussion started filling the air. And Rangi’s heart started to pound harder. Starless night. Black. A hand flew to her chest. Ok, now she couldn’t stop from getting ahead of herself. There were only a handful of people on the estate that had black hair, and she was one of them. 

“For the way I walk is a lantern lit / that leads you into the night / I’ll hold you close and love you the most / until our end is in sight.”

Rangi could feel the blood pounding in her ears, she could feel the blush covering her body. She knew she was beat red. Black hair, fire, light. Entangled hair. Wanting to hold and love them. Rangi leaned against the wall for support, and prayed. Prayed to every spirit imaginable. Prayed to every Avatar. Prayed that the person Kyoshi was talking about was her. Was Rangi. 

“It’s Rangi!” someone shouted. Rangi nearly leapt out of her skin. She stumbled back a few steps, fearing someone saw her. 

I thought I was out of sight!

“It is Rangi!”someone else cooed, the sound of kissing noises were heard.

“W-where?” Kyoshi asked, alarmed.

“Not in here, idiot!” a male voice said. “In your song! Just admit it, you just sang about Rangi.”

Rangi feared she was going to go into cardiac arrest. So she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t the only one who saw the resemblance between her and Kyoshi’s song. Now, would Kyoshi admit it? Should she admit it? What should Rangi do if she did?

A million questions spiraled in her mind. 

What she wanted to do right then and there was run down there and…. Take Kyoshi right where she stood? Take her hand and run off with her? Both? 

Rangi drew a breath as quietly as she could. At some point she’d forgotten how to breathe. No, no, she couldn’t act brashly. Kyoshi had to confirm. And….there were other obstacles Rangi may have to overcome if Kyoshi did confirm. 

Rangi, and the rest of the staff waited for Kyoshi’s answer.

“I-I, uh, I,” Kyoshi started. 

Did Kyoshi not mean to sing about Rangi? Did the kitchen staff guess wrong? Did Kyoshi think no one would be able to guess it was about Rangi? 

The wait was killing her.

“I, uh, I have to go get ready for my gifting duties,” Kyoshi said hurriedly, and the sound of movement could be heard.

Rangi jumped and sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could. She quickly ascended the stairs, scratching and clawing on all fours, unable to keep her balance. Surely she was not as silent as she’d wanted to be. As soon as she got to the top she dove through the open window on the other side of the hall from the stairs without thinking. 

She landed in the bushes, and sat there, under the windowsill out of view. Her hand over her mouth to stifle any noises. She heard Kyoshi finish ascending the staircase, and then run in the direction of her room.

Rangi sat there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, and to cool her features off. She didn’t need to be walking around with her face flushed the same color as her red armor.

She placed her forehead on her knees and breathed. She likes me? Does this mean she likes me? She thought to herself, unable to stop the hope rising in her chest. 

For the past two years she’d resigned herself into thinking Kyoshi wouldn’t like her back. That her crush would go unanswered. So this hope was dangerous, if she completely gave in then…. What if Kyoshi still didn't like her? What would she do then?

Rangi took a few more calming breaths, and then slapped her own cheeks. She needed to calm down. She had duties to attend to!

…but first, she should probably go wash her face in her room. The water might help cool it off.

She scrunched up her face into the signature Sei’naka- or maybe it was just the Fire Nation?- stoic look. No one would be able to tell what she was thinking if she kept it like this. 

She made sure now one was looking before she escaped out of the bushes, and ran to her own room.

________________

Rangi ran the cool towel over her face, it warmed almost instantly at the contact of her skin. She repeated the process about a dozen or so times until her reddened face had finally calmed down. 

She grabbed a nearby dry towel and dried her face off. When she finally pulled it away, she began inspecting her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she fixed it. Trying not to think of the lyrics.

She inspected her skin, it was back to the normal pale it usually was, only a slight red hue scattered across it. Her fingers brushed at her neck, then her jaw, then her cheeks and then they froze. Her gaze lingered on her eyes. Her bronze colored eyes. 

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul”

Rangi gasped, and pressed the towel into her face again. As if the pressure could stop the lyrics from forming in her mind. 

Kyoshi had been singing about her eyes. No! No, she needed to think rationally. Kyoshi might’ve been singing about her eyes. Might!

 “They draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi let out a muffled scream into the towel, her flush coming back red hot. Did Kyoshi really say her gaze was sinful? 

Have I been too obvious? Please tell me I haven’t been too obvious!

She thought about every longing look she thought she snuck and it caused her to do a little dance of embarrassment. Which led to her tripping over her own feet, and falling backwards onto the floor. 

Rangi’s face was still in the towel as she screamed and cringed into it with each memory that passed in her mind; kicking her legs on the floor all the while. It was a pathetic sight. If anyone were to walk in, that might be the final blow to her ego. She may never recover. Thankfully, there was nary a person in the estate that would just barge into Rangi’s room unannounced.

Rangi heard her door slide open with a click.

She slowly removed the towel to see a pair of familiar boots.

She looked up at her mother with absolute dismay. If anyone could or would see Rangi at her lowest and most vulnerable, her mother would always be there with a front row seat. 

Hei-Ran gazed down at her daughter with a deep frown. “What on earth are you doing?”

Breaking down. She thought. Rangi did her best to screw her face back into a stoic expression, the flush be damned. She stood up straight, inhaled, ready to give the excuse of her life. 

She exhaled…..and stared at her mother.

She had nothing. No excuse existed in this world that could’ve explained such disappointing behavior. It’d be better if she told her mother the truth, but she’d never do that. She feared what her mother might say or do if she mentioned her crush on Kyoshi.

Instead, she kept the staring contest up with her mother, until Hei-Ran finally broke it by pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, nevermind. I don’t think I want to know,” Hei-Ran conceded. Rangi was going to leave the biggest and bestest offering for the spirits when she had time. 

Rangi cleared her throat. “What brings you to my room, mother? Shouldn’t you be with Yun?”

Hei-Ran sighed, “Yes, but we are taking a break. However, it appears he wants his break extended. It seems he galavanted off somewhere.”

Rangi nodded. That sounded like her Avatar.

“And I was wondering if his bodyguard would know where he was,” Hei-Ran glared at her daughter.

Rangi stiffened. She’d been neglecting her duties for the day. To be fair, she didn’t necessarily have to bodyguard Yun when he was in the presence of his Sifus, but still. She was slacking.

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Rangi said with a bow.

“Good,” Hei-Ran replied, turning on her heel to leave. 

As she exited the door, a group of servants passed her room in the hall. “Did you see the Avatar?”

“Yeah I saw him on his way to the gifting room, you know where Kyoshi is!”

“How scandalous-Hey!”

Rangi practically barreled into her mother and the other maids as she passed, face pale in distress.

_____________

No! No no no no! Not the gifting room! Not those two alone!

Rangi’s mind was now screaming as she sprinted through the estate, she didn’t care if she looked like a spirit out of hell. She had to get to the gifting room, stat!

She was having a possibly amazing day, she didn’t need it to be ruined by the memories from around eight months ago. When she last left Yun and Kyoshi in a room together, alone. How they looked at each other. How Kyoshi sprinkled Fire Lilies over Yun’s face. How they….kissed. Or, almost kissed? Rangi didn’t know, she didn’t stick around to watch.

Rangi rounded the corner, she was running at the door with a full sprint. Body ready to catch them in the act this time, mind not as prepared.

She reached the door, stopped just in time, and slid the door open with a smooth click. 

She gazed at the two in front of her. Kyoshi and Yun were a respectable distance apart. Nothing nefarious happened this time. She sighed inwardly, and then remembered to keep her face in its stoic placement. She didn’t trust her real emotions at the moment. 

"Avatar." She bowed deeply and solemnly to Yun. Then she turned to Kyoshi, Kyoshi appeared more sullen than usual. “And you! You’ve barely made any prog-”

Rangi cut herself off and tore her eyes away from Kyoshi, looking around the room. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh….it’s…. actually almost done.” She wasn’t expecting that….

Almost all the presents were in neat little piles, all that needed to be done was transfer them.

“I got here early….” she heard Kyoshi muttered. She wouldn’t look at Rangi at all. 

Rangi could feel her pulse race. Is it because of the song she sang? Is it true? Or is she just self-conscious because the kitchen staff had teased her? Questions began to fill Rangi’s mind once again.

“Yeah Rangi,” Yun laughed. “This is Kyoshi we’re talking about, how dare you question her skill of working fast and efficiently?”

Rangi turned on her heel to face the Avatar, glaring at him. He was throwing her under the bus in front of Kyoshi! Again! “D-don’t put words in my mouth! I simply thought due to the volume that came in, and the fact you are skipping training to be a distraction, she may not have gotten as far as she did.”

“Well, I left the kitchen as soon as possible and got to work, just like you wanted,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

Rangi looked back, and Kyoshi had a slight glower on her face. She could feel her palms getting sweaty. Had Rangi upset her? Had she been upset before Rangi arrived? More millions of questions flew through her mind. Too many, she didn’t know which ones to ask first.

Kyoshi looked back at them, eyes widened a little, and then scratched her nose in embarrassment. “Did I say something wrong?”

Rangi stared at Kyoshi, trying to read her but found it too difficult. She looked down at her feet in defeat.  “No… it’s just….” Do you like me? Do you hate me? Do I upset you? So many questions.

“I think Kyoshi’s just a little nervous,” Yun announced.

Was it because of the song? How did he know about it? Did gossip already spread? Wait, if he knows about it then-

“I just asked her to join the Fifth Nation signing and she agreed to go,” he continued calmly.

Rangi’s train of thought came to a crashing halt when she heard him finish his sentence. Kyoshi was…..coming with them? To the daofei meeting. Sweet, innocent, never seen combat before, Kyoshi. She was going to go to a possible battleground. A war. A maid who has never held a weapon in her life, and might have to fight to the death. Her Kyoshi.

Rangi turned on Yun, glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns. “Wh-what?! What do you mean she’s going?!”

“I was going to tell you,” Yun smiled, putting his hands up in surrender. 

Rangi spluttered and looked between Yun and Kyoshi. Why wasn’t Kyoshi saying anything? Did he pressure her into it? Was she stupid?! Did she not realize how dangerous this was? 

“Have you lost your mind? The both of you? She’s not going!” Rangi couldn’t believe she had to say those words aloud.

“Are you going against your Avatar’s wishes?” Yun grinned at her, his tone was joking. He didn’t mean it. But it hit Rangi like she’d been run over by a komodo rhino. Because that’s exactly what she was doing. She was disobeying the Avatar, to keep the girl she was in love with from harm. “Calm down, it’ll be good to have her there.”

“Good for who?” Rangi groused. He was being selfish again, thinking only of himself and not Kyoshi’s well being. No she couldn’t assume that! He was the Avatar. The Avatar was always well meaning. Maybe he just….didn’t realize the risk? Yes, that’s what it was. She just needed to talk some sense into him!

She pressed a fist to her forehead and sighed. Then she glared at Yun and grabbed his sleeve. “We’re talking about this later. Right now, I’m taking you back to your training!”

She started to pull her charge towards the door.

“Gah! Rangi! Wait!” Yun bemoaned. 

Rangi practically threw the Avatar through the doorway in front of her, and then stopped with her hand on the doorframe. She looked back at Kyoshi. Kyoshi sat there with the same calm and beautiful, silent strength she knew the girl possessed. She didn’t want to see it destroyed by some daofei. She wanted her protected. She hated the idea of some dumb bullies harming the girl, but if that pirate laid a hand on her-!

Rangi gripped the doorframe slightly. She looked around the room, trying to find something for Kyoshi to do. “And you-! Clean-no. Just. Gah. Do whatever you were doing!”

Apparently she couldn’t find anything. So she just slammed the door behind her.

____________

Rangi was greeted by Kyoshi with a scream to the face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoshi gasped, looking sincerely apologetic. “You surprised me!”

Rangi began walking, indicating for Kyoshi to follow her. She would escort her to the next destination.

Rangi didn’t mind Kyoshi screaming like that, partially because it wasn’t the first time this had happened. In all honesty, Rangi brought it on herself, sometimes she was too stealthy……or Kyoshi was too absentminded. Another reason why she shouldn’t come.

Rangi seethed inside her head. Yun wasn’t listening to reason. He had it in his head that Kyoshi needed to come along. To remind him of the little people he was doing it all for. 

What a load of bull cow crap! He should be able to see that with the servants that work here every day! Or the villagers he sees when he sneaks a peak over the wall! He didn’t need to drag Kyoshi into it!

Kyoshi had already suffered enough growing up. At least, from what Aunti Mui had let slip to her about Kyoshi’s life before the mansion. Kyoshi didn’t need to be put into peril again, and she most certainly didn’t need to suffer an agonizing death at the hands of some daofei!

She just wanted Kyoshi to live a long and healthy life. But she couldn’t do that if she was dead!

Rangi looked up and realized they were somewhere in the garden. She didn’t notice how she got there, when they got there, nor cared. 

An idea passed through her head. If she couldn’t convince Yun, maybe she could convince Kyoshi.

“Kyoshi,” Rangi started, breaking the silence. She saw Kyoshi flinch out of the corner of her eye.

“Y-yes?” 

“You aren’t going,” Rangi said. Rangi tried to say it with a finality. Try to push Kyoshi into the same mindset as her. Whatever it would take to keep her safe.

Kyoshi sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice, Rangi. It’s a special request from the Avatar.”

Rangi stopped walking and turned to glare at Kyoshi. “Of course you have a choice! You just have to tell him you don’t want to! Just tell him ‘no,’ Kyoshi!”

Please, just for once. Don’t think of him. Don’t give in to him. Just tell him ‘no.’ Rangi sobbed internally. Lately, she couldn’t stop the thoughts she’d usually fought to ignore from bubbling to the surface. 

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow and gave her a joking smile. “And disobey the Avatar?”

Rangi stiffened. Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted. Every time she brought it up, it was another hit to her honor. Disobeying her honorbound duty. Each time she tried to find an excuse, to cover up her own horrid act and shame. “It’s not ‘disobeying’ if he gave you an option in the first place, right?”

“I don’t mind though,” Kyoshi said, smiling at Rangi. The same smile and expression she would make whenever she’d come home with dirty clothes and poorly covered bruises. When the other village teens had roughed her up or thrown mud and rocks at her. Rangi knew Kyoshi was lying, and it was making her sick to her stomach.

Kyoshi got closer to Rangi and whispered. “Plus he practically begged me. How could I say no?”

Rangi’s eyes widened. Is that it? Is that all? All Yun had to do was beg Kyoshi and he had her? A simple plea and she’d willingly give herself over?

Nausea started to take over and Rangi started feeling dizzy. It wasn’t fair. People took advantage of Kyoshi’s kind nature so often. And now she was marching herself to an executioner's block to unknowingly stroke Yun’s ego.

Rangi couldn’t have that. If she must, she’d stoop as low as those worms!

She saw Kyoshi had started walking and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back.

“Then what about me, huh?” Rangi got in Kyoshi’s face. Her space. Trying to take up as much residency in Kyoshi’s being as possible. She only wanted the other girl to see her, only her, no one else. “What if I begged? What if I begged you not to come along? What would you do then?”

Would you afford me the same treatment as Yun? Would you give yourself to me too? Do I want you to? 

Rangi shook Kyoshi’s arm once and let her stoic mask crumple. She wanted Kyoshi to know how she truly felt. She wanted Kyoshi to realize someone cared about her. Wanted her to be safe. Not to run into danger because of some misguided duty. 

Rangi shook her arm again. “Please. Kyoshi, please don’t come with us,” she begged again. She’d beg as many times as it would take. 

Rangi watched as Kyoshi bit her lip and held the package she was holding tighter to her being. Recoiling from Rangi. 

She watched as Kyoshi went to form the words “I’m sorry” from her lips, before they got caught by the heat Rangi had started to form around them.

Rangi realized she couldn’t make Kyoshi do anything. Even Yun couldn’t make her do anything. Kyoshi was doing this because she chose to. Just like how she’d actively choose to not defend herself against her own bullies. 

Rangi was a fool, an idiot, to not see it before. Kyoshi had chosen and was doing what she wanted to do. In doing so, Rangi realized Kyoshi had also chosen Yun over her.

Rangi grimaced and released Kyoshi. “Forget it,” she said in defeat, as she walked away. If she couldn’t stop Kyoshi from going with them, then she’d need to find a way to protect her.

_____

A/N:Me: Rangi’s side is more serious! You need to treat it more seriously!Also me: Ok she’s kind of a loser, gotcha. TT0TT

 I love high blood pressure!Rangi, I love gremlin!Rangi. But lovesick!Rangi? Hmmm yes! *throws all three in a blender to mix them up* uwu