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nahoney22 · 2 days ago

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Liar Liar (Part 2/?)

🫧 Part Two - Reflection // <<< Part One

🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female Reader

🫧 word count: 1.4k

🫧 Chapter Summary: When this ‘Whisky’ does not leave your mind, you find yourself distracted at work. Fox, however, needs to speak with you. He just does not know how to.

🫧 Warnings: Safe for work, Fox is apologetic, but the lying continues. Some nice fluff between reader and Fox. Caf is the pick me up we all need - especially Fox. Hound is suspicious.

🫧 Authors note: just a small chapter this time, support is very much appreciated ❤️

The next day, your mind keeps drifting back to last night.

The way Whisky had looked at you, the smoothness of his voice, and that smirk that had sent warmth curling through your chest all night long. More than once, you catch yourself smiling, only to quickly wipe away your expression when one of the boys walks past.

You weren’t embarrassed, not exactly, but the last thing you needed was to be on the receiving end of their relentless teasing. For now, this little secret remained hush hush.

Still, the day flies by in a blur. You’re as efficient as ever, never slacking on your work, but there’s a part of you that remains distracted. It isn’t until you finally sit down for a moment to relax your legs from running around all morning that Thire saunters up to you, his voice light and sing-song as he calls your name.

“What are you up to?” you ask, eyeing the sheepish look on his face.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you could grab some caf for me and the boys. We need a boost.”

You glance toward the caf machine shoved into the corner of the long desk, strategically placed out of view in case anyone higher up decided to crack down on ‘unnecessary’ luxuries. “Do your legs not work? What’s wrong with the machine?”

“It’s fine, just… we need something better.” His expression shifts, something thoughtful lingering in his eyes. “And Fox seems…”

You tilt your head. “Seems what?”

“Quiet.”

You blink. “He’s always quiet.”

“No, I know that.” Thire frowns, arms crossing over his chest. “But he’s really quiet. Have you spoken to him today?”

You think for a moment, then shake your head. “I dropped off some reports this morning, but he didn’t look up. Figured he was just busy.”

Thire hums, unconvinced. “I think he needs a pick-me-up.”

You sigh, already resigned to your fate. “Alright, fine. One caf run, coming up.”

Thire grins, quickly handing you a list—and credits to cover it. The list is longer than you expected, but for them, you’d do just about anything.

When you return, the scent of freshly brewed caf curling in the air, you barely get a moment to set the tray down before the boys descend on it. Some thank you with genuine appreciation, others just grab their cups with a quick nod, but soon enough, only one remains.

Fox’s.

You glance around the room, searching for the commander. “Where’d Fox go?”

Hound, already halfway through his caf, doesn’t even look up as he answers. “Got called to escort the Supreme Chancellor.”

You frown. “Great. Now his caf is going to get cold.”

Hound snorts, finally meeting your gaze. “He’d drink it if it was spilled on the floor.”

You huff, staring down at Fox’s caf like it personally offended you. After all that effort, it would be a shame for it to go to waste. And you certainly didn’t want him to drink it cold as some type of punishment after he had just been dealing with the Chancellor.

Looking around, you weigh up your options.

The barracks weren’t exactly equipped with fancy caf warmers, but your eyes landed on the small stash of insulated containers the boys sometimes used for long shifts or out of office missions.

That could work.

Grabbing an empty flask from the shelf, you pour Fox’s caf into it, screwing the lid on tight to keep it warm. Satisfied, you set it aside, drumming your fingers against the desk.

Hound was watching you with a smirk. “Didn’t realise you were so invested in the commander’s caf habits.”

You roll your eyes. “I just don’t like waste. If I went all that way to get it, I want him to actually drink it.”

Hound hums, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Just being a good coworker.”

You huff but don’t argue. It wasn’t like Fox was your favourite person in the Guard. He was strict, grumpy, and half the time barely acknowledged you and when you did you always left in a bad mood. But still, you knew how hard he worked. If a warm cup of caf made his day a little easier, then what was the harm?

The rest of the day passed in a blur, though your thoughts kept drifting—more often than they should—to Whisky. You found yourself glancing toward the hangar every time you passed by when on another errand, half-hoping to catch a glimpse of him among the mechanics. But the never-ending pile of work kept you firmly in place.

Even when you thought you had a moment to escape, Thorn appeared with a fresh file—an incident report on a new prisoner in the military base that needed to be reviewed before being passed to Fox. So much for sneaking away.

Still, you wondered if Whisky had thought about you too. You hoped so.

"Afternoon."

The unexpected voice pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Commander Fox standing in the doorway—stance stiff as ever, though there’s something oddly hesitant about the way he lingers.

You stand out of respect and offer a small smile. "Hello. I'm just reviewing a report from Thorn for you. I won’t be long." Already, you’re moving to finish up, assuming he just wants you out of the way. But to your surprise, he doesn’t seem in a rush.

"I can take over if you’d like."

Your hand stills on the device, caught off guard. You slowly lower yourself back into your seat. "Oh, that’s okay. Hound mentioned you had a busy day."

Fox tilts his head slightly, and for a split second, you worry he’s taken your comment the wrong way.

"I just meant," you quickly add, "I know you work harder than anyone, and you don’t get a lot of breaks. I figured you’d be exhausted, that’s all."

He exhales, a long breath through the modulator. "Busy is an understatement," he mutters, stepping further into the room.

His gaze sweeps over your desk, pausing on something off to the side.

"That for me?"

It takes you a second to realise what he means, but then you spot the flask of caf. Your face warms at the realisation that he noticed since you were going to place it on his personal desk after you had finished this report. "Oh. Yeah," you say, suddenly sheepish. "I, uh, figured you’d need it."

He reaches for the drink as you hold it out to him, his gloved fingers brush against yours—just briefly—but it still makes your breath hitch for a second. He was acting differently and you were uncertain as to why.

"You didn’t have to do that," he murmurs.

You shrug, glancing away. "I know."

A beat of silence. Normally, he would have left by now. Instead, he lingers.

Then, something unexpected.

"Thank you." His voice is quieter this time, softer in a way you don’t often hear from him.

Your eyes flick back up to his visor, searching for something though you’re not sure what. "It's okay. You should thank Thire, really. He’s the one who sent me on the caf run."

Fox makes a small, amused sound. "He couldn’t have just used the machine?"

You scoff. "That’s exactly what I said! But apparently it isn’t good enough so I was the lucky one chosen to fetch it."

Fox hums, nursing the cup in his hand. "That tracks. They act like that thing spits out engine coolant."

You laugh. "To be fair, have you ever actually tasted it?"

He pauses, as if considering. "I prefer not to risk my life unnecessarily."

"Right, because dodging blaster fire daily is the safer alternative."

His chuckle is warm, even through the modulator. "Point taken."

But then, his tone shifts.

"I also wanted to apologise."

That catches you off guard. You blink, tilting your head. "For what, Commander?"

He shifts slightly, looking away for a brief moment before speaking. "I... I’ve realised that my attitude toward you has been harsher than it should be. And you don’t deserve that."

Your lips part, surprised. Where was this coming from?

"Commander, has someone said something? Because I—"

"No one said anything." He cuts in quickly, shaking his head. "Just… some self-reflection. I appreciate what you do for this squad."

A part of you wants to get up and hug him, but you stay rooted to your seat, your mouth suddenly dry as you process his words. Maybe Whisky had said something after last night’s conversation. But Fox didn’t strike you as the kind of man who would let just anyone put him in his place—at least, not unless it came from someone he truly trusted.

Still, you smile, warm and genuine. "Thank you, Commander. That... means a lot."

Fox only nods before turning and walking out without another word, leaving you sitting there, wondering where this sudden shift in him had come from.

Part One - 79’s

Part Two - Reflection

Part Three - Sniffed Out

Part Four - Dreams

Or read on AO3 here for more parts ♥️

please reblog to support your content creators ♥️

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#commander fox #commander fox x you #commander fox x reader #commander fox fic #clone wars fic #fox x reader #corrie guard #nahoney22 writes #clone wars #star wars #clone trooper thire #clone trooper hound

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satsugacafe · 1 day ago

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𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐔: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Jugram Haschwalth, Ishida Uryu, Aizen Sosuke

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello! If it isnt too much trouble could you do a soulmate au for jugram, uryu, and aizen(separately)? Thank you❤️

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I did not expect to write so much for this, but then again, I was deeply invested in this AU >.< I love these types of AUs. Round star dividers were from my dear friend @/edensrose

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: How each character meet or connect with you, their soulmate, through the unique bond you share.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

☾ Jugram Haschwalth — Colourblind

He didn’t believe in soulmates. The idea of being bound and destined to a stranger was fickle, not when he had more pressing matters at hand, like tending to His Majesty. Giving himself to someone else and dedicating his life to be devoted was unheard of—there was only one person he was devoted to, and it belonged to the man who saved his life and gave him purpose. Not you. Not some random person who would enter his life in a sweeping moment and flip everything upside down.

And you did. When he saw the world in black and white, how else was he to perform his duties to the fullest? He needed you as his other half to be that addition to his bleak life—no matter how hard he refused to accept, he needed you.

There you were, standing atop a hill, overseeing the city below like a sentinel with a look on concentration on your face. One moment he staring at the muted tones of you, and the next, he was staring at the shade your hair flickered under the sun and the colour of your shocked eyes when they landed on him. He felt disoriented at the sudden sharpness of the world around him, especially you.

He knew it meant. Part of him wanted to reject, the other part wanted to keep you to himself, like some sacred treasure that gave him his sight back.

“Quincy, huh?” Came your first words to him. They weren’t filled with disgust or animosity like he expected, instead, interest—pure, genuine interest. “Would have never guess it.”

You were his soulmate. The person meant to complete him. The one thing he was supposed to cherish above all else. And you were a Shinigami.

His enemy.

His duty was to Yhwach had always bee absolute. The Quincies had waged war against the Shinigami for centuries, and now fate had bound him to you—tied his very sigh, his very world, to your existence. It was cruel. And yet…

He did not want to let you go. That realisation sent a sharp pang through his chest. His hand twitched at his side, fingers aching to reach for you despite himself. He opened his mouth to speak, shut it, then opened it again, hand curling around the hilt of his sword as if waiting for the inevitable. “You do not appear displeased?”

You scoffed at his hesitation. “You could have been an Espada—didn’t matter. You’re my soulmate, clear as daylight, no pun intended.” Strolling down the hill to stand a few feet away from him, you folded your arms. “And I’ve been waiting a damn long time for you to give me my sight.”

He felt himself smiling, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. Your words clearly struck a cord of similarity within. Slackening his hand on his sword, he let it fall at his side, his fingers twitching at the lack of holding something. “Now that it has returned, what do you want?”

You blinked, brows lifting at his directness. A beat passed, then—

“Wow,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You really aren’t the romantic type, huh?”

He stiffened slightly. “I don’t see how—”

“Not even a ‘where have you been all my life’ or a ‘you’re my missing half’?” you cut in with a teasing grin. “No sweeping me off my feet? No dramatic declaration of undying love? Nothing? Damn…”

“This is not a game,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

“Never said it was,” You tilted your head, studying him with an intensity that sent a shiver through him. Then, after a pause, you exhaled in defeat. “But if you’re the brooding type—the whole ‘my duty comes first, I can’t have a soulmate’ thing—then just say so.”

His fingers curled into fist. Yous saw right through him.

Your gaze searched his, patient, waiting. But Jugram had no answer to give. He didn’t know what he wanted. You were an impossibility, something he should reject, something he should let go.

And yet—

You took his silence for your answer and slumped your shoulders with an almost saddened look in your eyes. “Got it,” you murmured and slowly turned on your heel to depart. “I’ll, uh—I’ll take my leave then. No hard feelings.”

But something twisted violently in him. His hand shot out before he could stop himself, fingers curling around your wrist. The warmth of your skin against his was nearly scorching. His heartbeat roared in his ears, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should let you go. But he couldn’t.

“…Don’t go,” he whispered with a mix of a command and plea. “I…”

You smiled at him, reassuring and understanding. You saw the internal conflict. Lifting your free hand to brush lightly over the back of his where he still held your wrist, he tightened his hold, not wanting to let go.

“Why don’t we start off simple if you’re unsure, then?” you suggested and turned to face him, chest to chest. “A name wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m Y’N.”

His hold on your wrist tightened as he took an unconscious step forward, closing the gap. Before he could stop himself, his lips parted to respond to your simple call—a response that would spiral him into your world. “…Jugram.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jugram. I’ve been waiting for you for quite a while.”

He gulped, feeling his heart fluttering erratically, because deep down, so was he.

☾ Ishida Uryu — Shared Pain & Skin-writing

Uryu winched, his fingers tightening around the book he had been reading, the sudden sharp sting in his knee jolting him from his thoughts. It was a familiar pain, one he had felt countless times before, but this time, after months of silence, it struck him like an accusation.

You had done that on purpose.

For the past three months, he had managed to push down the instinct to reach for you. To pick up a pen and scrawl something against his skin just to see you answer. He had been trying—struggling—to keep his distance. Not because he wanted to, but because his world had become more dangerous than ever. He had been thrown into the midst of something you had no right to be involved in, something he didn’t want to lose you to. And yet, even after all this time, you still wanted to talk to him. Still reached for him, even when he had made no effort to reach back.

His hand twitched toward the pen on his desk. He hesitated for only a second before reaching for it, his movements hesitant, as if testing whether he had the right to do this after so long. Then, pressing the cool tip to his forearm, he finally let himself write:

What do you want?

Seconds passed, then, before the could second-guess himself, the ink began to fade, the letters disappearing as your skin absorbed the message. Then, just as quickly, a reply followed with familiar, messy strokes that made his chest ache with something he wasn’t ready to name.

Oh, so now you answer.

His lips twitched. He practically heard your irritated voice, your frustration that barely concealed the relied underneath. You weren’t really angry, just hurt that he had ignored you.

You stopped writing first, he countered. It wasn’t entirely true, but he couldn’t admit to his reasons yet.

There was a pregnant pause before letters appeared on his skin again. Three months Uryu. Three! I thought you died or something.

His fingers tightened around the pen. You weren’t far off. A part of him had died in these past months. The moment he had stepped into Yhwach’s world, everything had changed. But you didn’t know that. You didn’t know what he had become. What he had chosen.

He took a deep breath, forcing the thought away and allowed his pen to move. Responding with something safer, not yet a confession.

I’m fine.

A pause and then.

Bullshit.

You were perceptive—always had been, even without knowledge of his world.

I mean, he wrote. I’ve been…busy.

Then came another pause. An even longer one. Long enough that he almost wondered if you had decided to stop replying. Then, finally—

Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or keep lying to me?

His grip on his pen tightened before he tossed himself onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. What could he possibly tell you? He really wanted to pout everything out, explaining his silence, but he would hate himself for burdening you with his troubles. This was his choice, and he wasn’t going to drag you into this.

With his hesitation, you took his silence as an answer and scribbled on your hand once more as words appeared on his skin.

I miss talking to you.

You missed talking to him. His heart clenched and felt caught in his throat the longer he stared at the message. After everything, you still missed him, after the silence you still—

Me too, he replied. The first honest response for the night.

Good. Now explain why you’re ignoring your soulmate.

Soulmate. The words weren’t foreign to him, and it make his pulse hammer each time you used it. He still remembered when he fought the idea at first. Rejecting it outright, the concept itself had felt too irrational, too binding, too…dangerous. But over time, he had stopped fighting it because despite everything, there was something undeniably…comforting about the connection you shared.

…It wasn’t personal, he scribbled slowly.

But your response was immediate.

Then why?

He clenched his jaw. You weren’t going to let this go.

Because my life is complicated.

So is mine, smarty pants. But that didn’t stop me from talking to you.

You had a point, but it wasn’t the same. You didn’t understand what he was caught in, what he had been forced to do. If you knew—if you even had an inkling of what he had become—you wouldn’t be writing to him like this.

I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.

Boo hoo, that’s not you’re choice to make, buddy.

You were right, but it didn’t change anything.

He pressed the pen against his skin again, but before he could write, more words appeared.

Uryu, please…I don’t need to know everything. I just…don’t disappear again. Don’t leave me, please.

For a fraction of a second, his heart stopped. His fingers curled around the pen, gripping it like a lifeline.

I won’t.

Okay. He could tell that your reply was softer this time.

Silence stretched between you after that, neither of you writing anything for a long moment, but for once, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It wasn’t heavy with unspoke words or the weight of his choices.

It just was.

Can’t sleep? He wrote on impulse without thinking them through.

I could ask you the same thing.

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Then we’re even.

We could play a game. Like old times.

His fingers hovered over his skin, as he fought to enjoy this moment, not knowing what tomorrow would bring.

Alright, just like old times.

☾ Aizen Sosuke — Red String

The red string of fate had always been a concept that Aizen found…amusing. It was whispered about in the hushed concerns of Seireitei, a myth spoken of in quiet reverence by those who still believed in destiny. Even among Shinigami, the idea of an unbreakable connection binding two souls together was seen as little more than an old wives’ tale. And yet, here he was, following the near-invisible thread tied around his finger through the streets of Rukongai.

Curiosity had stirred within him, an unfamiliar sensation tugging at the edges of his m ind. It was not often that something escaped his notice, and yet, here was proof of something he had overlooked, was not according to his plan—his own soulmate. The notion should have been laughable. He was a Captain of the Gotei 13, a man who had long since abandoned the confines of simple belief in fate. And yet, the strong remained, unyielding, leading him to an unknown destination.

As he stepped past the worn dirt paths and into the bustling districts, the scent of sake and cooked food mingled with the crisp evening air. lanterns flickered in warm hues, casting long shadows against wooden buildings. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted through the streets as citizens lost themselves in the ordinary pleasures of their lives. Yet Aizen’s gaze remained fixated on the red string, watching as it wove through the crows with ease, guiding him forward to a tavern.

The moment he entered, the tavern was filled with workers and travellers, all too occupied with their own affairs to pay attention to the newcomer. His gaze flickered across the room, scanning faces with an unreadable expression, until—

There you were.

There was nothing remarkable about you in the way that nobles or warriors were deemed. You were not adorned in fine silks, nor did you carry the weight of power upon your shoulders. And yet, Aizen found himself unable to look away.

“Welcome,” you greeted as you approached, noticing that he was standing without a seat. “Would you like something to drink, eat or a seat?”

For a moment, he did not answer, merely observing, taking in the way your eyes flickered with warmth, the way you stood with a quiet confidence despite the bustling atmosphere. Then, he smiled. “Jasmine tea. Warm.” When you nodded and turned away to prepare his order, he found a sit at the counter.

He had expected something…different. A noble, perhaps a fellow Shinigami. Someone who already resided within his world, who shared the burdens and ambitions that came with it. Instead, he found you—simple soul, untouched by the ridge structures of Seireiei, existing within a life entirely separate from his own. And yet, the string did not waver.

When you returned, setting the small ceramic cup before him, he tilted his head slightly. “I haven’t seen you before,” he remarked.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the statement. “Oh? Are you a regular?”

“No quite,” he admitted, fingers grazing the rim of his cup. “I don’t frequent the Rukongai often. But even so, I feel as though I would have remembered someone like you.”

A small chuckle escaped you as you leaned against the counter, setting your tray aside. “You say that like I’m someone important.”

Aizen took a slow sip of his tea, savouring the warmth before placing his cup down. His eyes never left yours once. “Perhaps. Importance is a matter of perspective.”

You frowned at his words, as if trying to decipher the meaning behind them. There was something about him—unsettlingly enigmatic. His presence was commanding yet effortless, his gaze holding an intensity that made your skin prickle. He was unlike anyone you had met before, and yet, you had no reason to fear him.

“Are you a noble?” you asked, unable to suppress your curiosity, while taking in his simple garb. “Or maybe a merchant? You don’t seem like the kind to wander these parts without reason.”

His lips curled slightly at your statement. “No, nothing of the sort.”

“Then what do you do?”

“If I told you, it might change the way you see me.” He titled his head, watching you with a soft delight.

You huffed a small laugh, leaning away from the counter and placing a hand on your waist. “That sounds awfully suspicious.”

“Does it?”

“A little,” you admitted. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and you seem…strange from most people who pass through.”

To Aizen’s astonishment, he found himself engaging—not manipulating, not strategising, but in something startlingly genuine. You did not know who he was. You had no need to fear him, no reason to treat him with the deference he had grown accustomed to in Seireitei. You spoke to him as an equal, unburdened by knowledge of his power or rank.

And perhaps that was why despite the sheer improbability of it all, he found himself drawn to you.

At some point, you paused, turning toward him with a contemplative look. “You never told me you name.”

For a moment, he considered lying—giving you an alias, keeping a distance between the truth and the delicate illusion of this night. But then, he met your gaze and spoke.

“Aizen Sosuke.”

The name meant nothing to you. There was no flicker of recognition, no shift in demeanour. You simply smiled.

“Well, Aizen,” you warmly spoke, “it was nice talking to you. You should come by again sometime.”

He stared at you, his mind lingering on the invisible thread that connected you both. A thread that had led him here, to a moment that should not have existed in the grand scheme of his plans. And despite himself—despite everything—he found himself returning a smile.

“Perhaps I will.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @edensrose @stygianoir @spellboundsuguru @cactimorada @cookielovesbook-akie @kennys-partner

©satsugacafé 2025: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

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wqlfstqr · 2 days ago

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◟𖥻 the smell of snow : remus lupin

▰▰ pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader.

When she suddenly gets a familiar smell while sleeping, she wakes Remus to enjoy the first day of snow.

totally inspired by lorelai and luke from gilmore girls, this scene especifically.

mari talks! i want to make a lorelai!reader x remus series so bad help me.

She has become used to falling asleep on Remus' bed, the only moment of the day where her energy starts lacking is when the moon hangs high in the sky and her boyfriend's arms wrap around her. In contrast to her usually cheerful way to be, she's peaceful and quiet when she's sleeping.

Ninety nine percent of the time, anyways, because that one percent is about to make its first appearance of the year.

At first, she only takes a deep breath as she rolls around in the mattress. But then, realization hits her— the air smells different. Her eyes immediately open and she starts sniffing, wanting to be sure before she turns to Remus.

He's peacefully sleeping too, at least until she rolls on top of him and starts shaking his arm. "Rem." she calls him, at least somewhat softly through her sudden desperation. "Come on, wake up."

He grunts and tries to roll from under her, still deep in his slumber. "Rem, we're missing it." she tries again, this time shaking his shoulder with a little more strength

"Sleep? yes, i'm aware." he mumbles, his voice rough and tired.

He makes a big mistake by replying to her, because she only grows even more relentless, now she stands up and pulls her boyfriend's arm. Remus might be stronger than her usually, but right now she's on a mission.

One last tug, and he's almost falling out of the bed, his eyes finally opening because he's accepted his girlfriend is not going to stop until she gets whatever she wants right now. Accepting his fate, he finally stands from the bed, once again almost falling since the sheets were all tangled in his legs.

He barely manages to put on his shoes before she's dragging him out of the room, as they pass his fellow marauders, he's a little envious of the way they're still peacefully sleeping.

"Where are we going?" he mumbles, slurring his words, his feet stumbling over the stairs.

Her lack of answer would be concerning for Remus if he wasn't half-asleep and busy mumbling grumpily under his breath. Yet, he still follows her or more like allows her to drag him out of the gryffindor tower.

Thankfully, it's far too late for any professor to be patrolling around the halls so they walk through the castle without any problem except for the angry paintings complaining about being awaken. Remus can understand them completely.

"Almost there." she tells him, finally speaking as she runs out of the castle, pulling him with her into the quidditch field.

Remus must still be sleeping, or he's simply confused, because she suddenly stops and looks around in wonder but he can't see anything different about the quidditch field. He even blinks and rubs his eyes, but there’s nothing.

"I'm freezing" he says, wrapping his free arm around his body, how is she not feeling cold? she didn’t even took the time to put on a jumper. "why are we out here?"

"Smell the air." she tells him suddenly, taking a deep breath herself and smiling brightly.

Remus blinks at her, confused, but he still sniffs skeptically. "smells like... air?"

"No, silly!" She laughs, as if Remus just told her a really good joke. "Smells like snow is coming."

Yes, his girlfriend has gone mad. He expected he would have a long time before he had to get her admitted into St. Mungo's. Was it the ball Sirius threw at her head yesterday? Godric, Remus had told them both it wasn't safe to be playing like that, and did they listen to him? of course not.

"What? You can't possibly know that" he tells her, already making up his mind to go and wake Sirius up so he would see the damage he has done. "Forecast said there would not be snow this winter."

"I smell snow." she tells him again, looking up at the sky as if she's actually expecting snow to start falling. And then, the rambling starts. "I love snow, we can make a snow-man or even better a snow-woman! with painted lips and a cute scarf. I love snowy days in with a cup of hot cocoa, and I love winter outfits! oh, we can go sledding and ice skating!"

As grumpy as Remus is, she always finds a way to ease into him. Of course she does. "That sounds great, sweetheart." he replies, not daring to tell her that he hates snow. "But there’s no snow coming, in the Daily Prophet they said—"

Remus' sentence is cut short when snow actually starts falling, flakes falling from the sky slowly covering the quidditch field. "Fuck the Daily Prophet anyways." he says.

it's not like she's paying him any attention, because she's already smiling and giggling as the snow fall all around them. "Welcome, friends." She mumbles, tilting her head back so the snowflakes fall into her face.

Remus is freezing, like already trembling, but she doesn’t look bothered by the cold at all. And she looks beautiful, that one Remus has to admit. She looks so happy, her smile almost glowing under the dark of the night as she spins around the quidditch field.

"Let's make snow angels!" And that's what pulls Remus out of his trance, before she can drop to the ground, he takes her hand and pulls her in.

He raises his eyebrow at her. "Absolutely not. You're in your pyjamas, time to go inside." He tells her, matter of factly, his serious gaze not even wavering when she gives him a puppy eye look in return— yes, she's cute, but Remus cares more about her safety right now.

"You're no fun, Rem." She pouts at him when she knows he won't budge, but just like the way she brought him here, she allows him to pull her inside the castle.

Now she has started shivering, and Remus notices as he pulls her close to his side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders in an attempt to keep her warm, which is not very useful considering he's also cold.

He presses a kiss against her temple as they walk through the hallways, once again bothering the paintings around them. "We have a full snow day tomorrow, when we're properly dressed up for the cold, deal?"

She nods, and with the way the smile goes back to her face, Remus thinks that maybe he doesn’t hate the snow that much after all.

#𐙚 mari's fics #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #harry potter series #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin fluff #marauders era

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lyriane · 2 days ago

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(1.2k words short fic; based on "At the Peak of Truth, Despair Not" Bond Story between Truthless Recluse & Sage of Truth, can be read as platonic or romantic)

“Why do you not tell your disciples of your name?”

A tap, carefully placing down the delicate yet priceless scroll. The Cookie adorned with white and gold looked at the other Cookie. Once again, another unprecedented visit by this guest.

“Oh? Is the Truthless Recluse seeking the truth now?”

A playful smile, mismatched eyes glinting with subtle intrigue. The other Cookie draped in black and gold merely looked away, disinterested unlike the former.

The Sage was used to it however, unable to keep his eyes away from the Recluse. It was hard not to take notice of that peculiar Cookie. Darkness always curling around the Recluse’s figure, robes dark as midnight, stark against the pearly whites of the square.

A huff, “My my, I know you do not like leaving your beloved peak, but do inform me of your visits beforehand, would you? You might scare away my students.” The Sage teased, watching the other, as he pulled a teacup from his other-realm. His feet left from the ground, untethered, as he crossed his legs.

The Recluse was quiet as usual, seemingly gazing at the paintings hung around the square. Ever since that fateful encounter, he did not speak more than necessary. It didn't explain his rather spontaneous visits though. As much as the Sage hated to admit it, he could not glean any answers from the elusive Cookie.

The Sage couldn't help but twitch in annoyance at the reminder, he sipped from his teacup to compose himself. There is nothing that he shouldn't know, this is the Truth he sought for, always seeking for…

“You did not answer my question.”

Oh?

The Sage couldn't hide his surprise. How unexpectedly uncharacteristic! The Truthless Recluse himself still trying to seek for answers? From the Sage of Truth too? How intriguing. Even more unexpectedly, the Recluse continued to speak!

“They all call you ‘The Sage of Truth’, but that's not your name. You did not give your name, why?” The square seemed to dim with darkness, yet the Recluse kept his back turned.

The Sage smiled in delight, the excitement of being able to educate, give Truth to those who seek was thrilling as always. He gracefully waved his hand to dismiss his teacup back to the other-realm, before clapping his hands.

“Why, it is such an honor to answer your question! Just like you, the Cookies themselves were the ones to bestow this title of mine. I did not see any fault in letting them do so.”

“Omission is lying, therefore you lied to them?” The Recluse finally turned around. His expression is as neutral as his words, not a hint of accusation, just asking a simple curious question. Ah, if he were his student, he'd be an exemplary one!

“Me? Lying? That is a bold assumption to make!” The Sage couldn't help but play with theatrics, placing his delicate hand on his chest. “No, of course not.” He huffed, then placed a finger on his lips, “They did not ask, did not wish to seek my Truth, therefore I did not provide either.”

The Sage of Truth would welcome any query with open arms if they truly wish to seek the answers to it. However, one would ask questions, if they wish to seek the Truth. If not, then how would they gain the Truth of it? There are always those who refuse to reach enlightenment…

Like, this Cookie, in front of him. Ah but that would be inaccurate, wouldn't it? Both of them have already reached it, it is merely the ending that has changed them both distinctively. Mismatched eyes locking with similarly mismatched eyes, yet so utterly different. Just like their fates.

As any good scholar would do, every after a question is answered, there should be more questions next. The Recluse was quiet once again, perhaps thinking about the answer? Nonetheless, it is the Sage’s turn with the questions.

“Pray tell, have you shared your own name, Truthless Recluse?” A genuine question, so curious of this fickle and mysterious Cookie. It's not everyday one could get an audience with the Truthless Recluse himself, much less ask a question.

The Recluse stood there in silence, eyes with dark rings underneath staring at the Sage. It is hard to tell whether the Cookie is looking at him judgmentally after that or simply unaffected as usual. That Cookie is always either wallowing in despair or disconnected from reality, nothing else.

The silence continued to stretch longer and longer, it was disappointing, really. The Sage could not hide the sag of his shoulders, it was fun to provide answers as the professor but he's still a scholar at heart, always seeking more. Perhaps he was too optimistic, hoping that the Cookie well known for Deceit, would give a sprinkle of Truth.

The clock chimed in the distance, signaling the time of the hour. The Sage of Truth has been here in the square much longer than usual even though his lectures are all done, done with the reviewing of his precious collection of scrolls too, all because of his inconsistent bizarre guest.

“Ah, alas, the day is ending soon. Care to come back tomorrow, or whatever time you prefer?” The Sage offered, not exactly expecting an answer as these attempts of his are usually met with the sudden disappearance of the Recluse.

However, the Recluse still stood there quiet, almost as if trying to blend and pass off as the shadows in the corners. The Sage watched, mildly amused yet curious. Is the Recluse perhaps waiting for him to go first before he would? But why so?

“.. My.. answer.”

Huh? The Sage wasn't hearing things, was he? His attention instantly focused on the unexpected voice of Truthless Recluse, and he watched with intensity, wondering.

“My name.. does not exist in this reality anymore.” Truthless Recluse spoke softly, his constant look of sorrow deepened as a tone began to seep into the supposedly monotonous voice.

The Sage of Truth parted his lips, staring at the other with obvious surprise. Was that.. an answer?... A Truthful one too? Given by the Truthless Recluse? What…

Within under seconds, the shock was immediately replaced with utter glee. The Sage could not stop the spread of his smile, fang showing and all, across his face.

“So you CAN tell the truth.”

The Truthless Recluse closed his eyes, speaking nothing, neither confirming nor denying, but the Sage knew the answer anyways.

Before the Sage could feel even more delighted, the Recluse spoke up again. With eyes closed, he asked, “Do you, remember your own name?”

Slightly taken aback by the rather simple, easy, common-sense of a question, the Sage opened his mouth to answer truthfully.

“Obviously, I do—!”

Then shut it abruptly.

The Truthless Recluse opened his eyes, darkened eternally crying eyes gazed at the Sage of Truth. The darkness seemed to grow around them, and the shadow of despair hanging over the Cookie of Deceit felt suffocating to the Cookie of Truth.

“Do you?”

When was the last time you were called by your name? How many titles have you been called now? Do you still remember your own Truth, after you've sought more? How long has it been…

Has your name been forgotten by this reality too?

The Sage of Truth; adorned with gold and whites, light and life, knowledge within every Truth, seeking and always seeking, spoke—

“With full certainty. I, of course, remember.”

The Truthless Recluse; draped in gold and black, darkness and sadness, hiding behind Deceit, wanting to protect, always, looked at him with similar eyes like his.

“And you— can lie too.”

#short fic #cookie run kingdom #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadowvanilla #technically its TR & SOT but u get the point #might put it up on ao3 idk

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sleepynoons · 2 days ago

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jing yuan x gn!reader, 18+, not beta read

cw: yandere jing yuan (kinda unavoidable since this is a yakuza au), mentions of bodily injury and harm, ever so slight sexual tension

notes: i wanted to write smth wayyyy filthier with this au, so maybe... i'll follow up on this drabble with a pt 2.... hrm...

for a yakuza – and an oyabun, no less –, the man sitting in front of you is quite nonchalant. it's probably from his decades of experience and the trust he has in his men to properly protect him, but most wouldn't be able to discern either of those things by the way he looks. but you know that beneath his lackadaisical expression and his relaxed posture, there's a danger that you'll never fully be able to imagine or grasp the full extent of.

you didn't intend to put yourself in this position. you have no interest in interacting with gangs or yakuzas anymore, and you have a stronger distaste for exploitative schemes and bloodied money. it's quite ironic, actually. you were only trying to protect a little boy from a leering stranger in black, and somehow, you've ended up in the headquarters of a massive organized crime syndicate.

even worse, you've wound up receiving the thanks of jing yuan, an ex-member of a chinese triad who decided to employ his skills in japan. you've heard the rumors back when you were much younger. he can break necks with his bare hands, hold grudges until they're settled (permanently), and mask all of his cruel and sinister manners with closed eyes and a content smile.

you think you've learned your lesson. mind your own damn business, or else fate will find a way to drag you back into this hellhole!

not that you can say your thoughts out loud. instead, you take a sip of tea and keep your head bowed otherwise.

"you still haven't told me what you'd like in exchange," jing yuan muses. it seems he's trained his voice as well, with the way he speaks so gently yet so precisely. you're sure he's capable of pulling out classified information and dangerous secrets with that easy, seductive tone of his.

you're not sure how to refer to him, so you make do with something formal, something distant. "sir, i appreciate the offer, but again, i didn't save that child for something in return."

"i understand, but i'd like to give you a token of my gratitude anyway."

you've had this back-and-forth four times now. coupled with the silence in between your responses, you estimate that you've been kneeling in this tatami room for at least half an hour now.

this time, though, even if you don't want to notice it, you see jing yuan roll back his shoulders as if he's stretching, and immediately, the two guards standing beside the door pace over to remove the floor table separating the two of you. you expect the guards to return after they place the table elsewhere, but they never do.

it's just you and the oyabun, and you regret not wishing to be left alone as soon as jing yuan asked you the first time for what it is that you desired. you internally sigh, taking the last sip of your tea before the porcelain cup is emptied.

even though it's been a while since you've found yourself in a situation like this, you're grateful that your instincts and prior experience are kicking in. you're not frazzled, nor are you concerned. while it's possible that jing yuan is masterfully concealing his killing intent, you doubt he'd dispose of you when you saved his adoptive son. that means you might as well ask for something random and inconsequential so that this situation can quickly come to its end.

"fine, sir, since you're kindly insisting. how about a set of tea ware? the ones you have out are quite beautiful."

"of course."

you offer an appreciative bow and wiggle your toes, ready to get up.

but it seems jing yuan's not done. "anything else?"

you startle, but you know you must not show any weakness in front of a lethal predator. at best, from the outside, it seems like you're deep in thought.

you respond, "and maybe some tea packs along with it? otherwise, sir, i sincerely mean it when i say there isn't anything that i need or want."

jing yuan tilts his head. "i understand. however…"

the yakuza boss gets up, and you would follow along, except for the fact that he gives you the briefest of glances, enough to root you to your position. you watch as he pads over to you and sit downs next to you. the familiar prickle of heat at the back of your neck, along with the goosebumps that rake along the entirety of your arms, are clear indications of your alarm, and again, you wonder how terrifying jing yuan must be in violent encounters when he already exudes so much pressure just by lingering near you. somehow, even when you've been telling yourself to not to be tricked by his facade, your instincts have underestimated the yakuza leader, and you're suffering from the repercussions of your carelessness.

a warm finger settles underneath your chin, and you let jing yuan guide you until you're looking up at him. his eyes are sharp, glinting with a mischievous, ambrosial gold, and the black and red strokes of his chest tattoos, as if drawn by a large paintbrush instead of the needles and teeth of a machine, peek out from the flaps of his loosely tied kimono. he also hums, though it sounds more like a satisfied purr.

there's no use, you think. you can't win when it comes to mind games, and you most definitely cannot put up a physical fight.

"what do you want from me," you mutter with a shaky, wispy voice.

he purrs again. "i want you to answer my question."

"i said i didn't –"

"then i'll help you find what it is that you desire."

he places the pad of his thumb against your chin, holding your head in place, and leans close, so close that your lips are barely brushing against each other. at the same time, his other hand has enclosed itself around your wrist, and has pulled your arm up so that your palm is settled right over his heart, beating at a solid, steady pace, completely unperturbed, radiating a warmth that is unlike his lifestyle or nature.

you're not sure how much jing yuan knows about you – though it's probably more than you'd feel comfortable with –, but either way, his actions make you fume.

"don't act like you know who i am." you're seething, but because you cherish your life, you grit out those words as your teeth sink deeper into your bottom lip, to inhibit your lashing out. "if there's anything i desire, it has nothing to do with you."

"oh?"

you almost squint as his eyes flash with molten amber sparks, slight intrigue, and transparent amusement.

you figure you'd make yourself clear, right here, right now. and so, you growl, "you can't give me what i want. and you never will."

"i see."

you don't know how you make it home. all you can recall are staggered steps, an almost kiss, and several rude shoves to jing yuan's men.

–

two months pass, and neither jing yuan nor his men seek you out in any way. it doesn't seem like you're being targeted by anyone else from other organizations either. you're just relieved that you can resume your peaceful life.

on one unassuming saturday morning, when you're awoken by your doorbell, you rush over to find a deliveryman waiting outside for you. you open your front door cautiously.

"here's your package. can you sign this slip for confirmation?"

it doesn't seem like the man is a fraud. you also can't recall ordering anything as of late. you sign the slip anyway because it really does seem like the man is impatient to get to the next customer, and heave the box back inside to your living room.

you open it, as the exterior doesn't seem suspicious. but your body freezes when you see the contents: a set of teacups made out of fine china and several boxes of rose buds, dried chrysanthemums, and matcha powder. there's also a letter, signed legibly enough so that you can make out the sender's name.

you were never left alone in the first place.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan honkai star rail #jing yuan hsr #honkai star rail jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #carrot cake!

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aboutcustardcreams · 1 day ago

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Time. I want more time.

Summary: Rio finds you, or rather you find her. But things don't go as planned. They simply can't. And when together with Nicky and Agatha, you make her an offer, one so tempting, so impossible to refuse, it makes Rio forget why she should. So she takes it. Just for now, just for this moment, Rio -not Lady Death- allows herself the thing she’s denied for so long. Time.

a/n: I’m so, so sorry it’s been so long! As I mentioned before, I was busy studying for a public competition, which I finally took a couple of days ago. On top of that, I came down with the flu, which slowed me down a lot. But I’m feeling much better now, so here I am!

I hope there aren’t too many typos or mistakes—I didn’t reread but I'll do it latr today (let’s be honest, it is very on brand for me at this point). Anyway, I hope you like it! ❤️

previous chapter

They gave her a job, a very specific one, that clashed with every fiber of her cosmic being. Only then did Rio realize why mortals loathed and resented her so much, why each and every time she showed up to collect a soul, all she saw was fear and despair swimming in the eyes of those whose life had sadly come to an end.

Lady Death always found a way to justify herself, until now. She persuaded herself into believing that those who feared her were just… ignorant to the real purpose of her visit. She was meant to be welcomed as a friend and not dreaded as an enemy. And some did see her that way, as a release, a quiet mercy. But most didn’t. Most couldn’t. And now, she could see why.

Rio couldn’t help but wonder, what kind of balance was she trying to achieve by condemning you to years of torment. What good was to the world if she made sure you suffered for having used your power to save your child? She searched for the meaning of it, but this time she failed to see it.

The Fates had been outraged, that was the truth. The punishment she was meant to inflict to you had nothing to do with what was fair and what wasn’t.

She sighed deeply, as she leaned against a tree. Was it better to warn you or to do it, from night to day? Should she speak to Agatha? Should she show up at all, or complete the task hidden in the shadow?

She brought her hands to her face and then rubbed at it, out of sheer petulance. She inhaled and exhaled shakingly. Silent tears welled up in her eyes then slid down her cheeks like a raging river, the moment her eyelids fell shut.

Rio couldn’t do this to you, without granting an explanation. She couldn’t distort Agatha and Nicky’s life by acting behind their back and yours.

Then she heard it, a voice, one she had been allowed to listen to, from the fragile veil between the two realms. She froze before crunching down behind the tree she laid on to stay put. Quickly she wiped her eyes, before tugging her hood over her face. Silence was one of her crafts. Death could come unexpectedly, like a hurricane as well as softly and subtly like the faintest whisper of wind. And now, despite the tragic drumming of her heart, she was the latter. She had to be.

“I’m so full, mama,” she heard Nicky say, with a sigh, though by the tone of his voice, she caught how satisfied he actually was.

A smile tugged at her lips, small, yet sincere.

“I can see that,” Agatha mused, her blue eyes flickered from him to you, “your stomachs are like bottomless pits.”

Your head lolled to the side, kinda dreamy. “But the lamb stock was so good, Ags.” Agatha rolled her eyes at that. She wasn’t there to deny that, her point was another. “I know that, but you had three refills, my love. Three–” she repeated, playfully elbowing at you.

You stuck your tongue out at her in response.

Rio watched the interaction unfold, struggling to keep her soft side at bay. She tried to see you as another task to complete, and as soon as she did that, she cursed herself because you simply were not. To separate her love for you from the things she had to do against you was impossible.

Before meeting you and Agatha, her job was relatively easier– if not completely, it was at least partially bearable. Without emotional ties, her tasks were just that: assignments to be completed, objectives to be met. But you weren’t one, and you could never be.

“I had four!” Nicky squealed, catching her attention once again. You turned towards the boy, and so did Agatha, whose eyebrows shot up. “My, my, four you say–?!” Playfully, you draped an arm around his middle, pulled him snug against your side. His back bumped into you and before he could react your fingers found his tummy, wiggling silly. “I wonder how all that food fits in this tum-tum of yours, lil champ!”

His reaction was immediate. Laughter burst from Nicky as he squirmed and squealed, his small hands pushing at yours but to no avail. Agatha watched with a fond smile, her eyes glimmered to the sound of her son’s giggles mingled with yours.

“I’m a grown up now, mama–” he protested between laughs. “I can eat more than both of you, if I want to!”

“Oh-ho, hear that, Ags?” You leaned in, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to the top of his head before finally setting him free. She hummed, a playful sound slipping past her lips. “We’ve got a tween on our hands–”

Nicky braced his hands on his knees and bent forward to collect his breath. But the glimmer in his eyes gave it away– he was happy, perhaps the happiest he has ever been.

He could have it all now: a long life ahead, his mothers by his side and no more battles to fight. Rio’s hands turned into fists, her nails dug in so hard she ripped at her skin, but she felt no pain. The only ache– the most painful and persistent inhabited inside her chest. Nothing could top the feeling of her heart turning darker little by little.

Agatha grimaced, brows furrowing in feign disappointment. “Well, it’s a shame really–” she rummaged through her nosebag, quickly catching the boy’s attention. And yours. His eyes locked onto her hands the moment she pulled out a bundle wrapped in cloth. She peeled it back, revealing two soft oat cakes, still warm, their golden surface glistening under a thick glaze of wildflower honey. They looked delicious. Nicky felt his own mouth water at the scent they emanated. “I was going to give you these later today as a snack, but since you’re a big man now, perhaps you’d rather donate them to younger children?””

His brows furrowed, his mouth parted ajar, ready to protest, but you were faster.

“Or–” you rolled your tongue, drawing closer, eyes on them. “I could eat those.”

Agatha should have known. “You’re worse than him,” she mused, keeping the oat cakes at a fair distance, giving you an innocent push.

An impish grin tugged at your lips, before you giggled, “you do call me baby girl, don’t you?”

Agatha snorted out a chuckle as she glanced at you. Her eyes spoke louder than any words. “This is not the appropriate context…”

You played dumb, “is it?”

Nicky, completely ignoring your staring contest, decided to interfere. “If mama can eat those, so can I,” he reasoned defiantly.

Oh yes, your boy was sharp.

“His logic is airtight,” you admitted with a nod.

A toothy grin played out on his face, one of victory.

“Fine, fine,” Agatha snorted in defeat. “Both of you can have it. But later– unless you want a serious stomachache now.” She put the treats back in her nosebag, silently enjoying the way your lips turned into a slight pout, matching Nicky’s. It took all her willpower not to pounce on you two and pepper your faces with sloppy kisses.

“We can wait, right kid?”

Nicky nodded promptly, muttering a soft ‘I guess’, before resuming his walk, trotting ahead and busying himself searching for pieces of wood.

You and Agatha remained a few steps behind him. It was peaceful. It was everything you always wanted.

You were looking for a spot to settle down for the night, but in the meantime, something caught your attention. There, on the forest floor, nestled against the green of the leaves, were clusters of red berries. Their deep crimson skin gleamed, looking so smooth, plump and perfect, you couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Something about them felt off, though. You crouched down, fingers grazing the soft, delicate surface of one berry. You squeezed one between your fingers and then leaned in, inhaling it softly. There was something faintly bitter underneath its apparent sweetness– like decay. It made you wince.

“Are there any good?” Agatha asked, lowering herself to crouch beside you.

Her hand brushed a strand of hair from your face behind your ear and when she did she caught the way your nose scrunched up.

“I’m afraid not, unless you’re eager to lose your sense of taste,” you hummed, discarding the berry and wiping your fingers on a large green leaf lying there.

Agatha chuckled softly, with a shake of her head. “Pass.”

“Thought so,” you grinned, pulling yourself up.

“It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

You met her gaze, the subtle shift in her tone inevitably caught your attention. “That not everything is as it seems?”

“Yes,” she began, leaning in just a fraction closer, so that her warm breath crashed against your cheek, tickling your skin and making your stomach flutter. “But also that something so good looking, juicy and rich like those barriers can also be potentially… lethal.”

You couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle at that, your head dipping with amusement. You got the feeling it wasn’t just the berries she was talking about. Nicky, a few steps ahead, was too engrossed in his own task to notice the conversation going on between you and Agatha, his back turned as he collected wood and pines.

“Are you calling me lethal, Ags?” You said, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in.

Unable to resist, she pulled you by your hips, her eyes bore into yours and you saw a flicker of arousal swim within them. There was hunger there, barely restrained. One you understood very well, because it was similar to yours.

She hummed, her hands squeezed your hips, fingers kneading slow, deliberate circles. Each stroke of hers sent a shiver running up your spine and goosebumps to rise over your arms. Her breath ghosted over your lips, so close it made your skin tingle. “No, not lethal.” She shook her head.

You swept your tongue over your mouth, and her eyes followed there helplessly. She wanted to claim you, pull you close and devour you right then and there, but the sun was too high in the sky. And then there was Nicky… “But easy to fall for, yes.”

You bowed your head, a quiet chuckle slipping past your lips. One Agatha found herself going mad. When your eyes bore into hers again, only a second passed before you kissed her. Agatha exhaled, her mouth parting instinctively as her eyes fluttered shut. Yours did, too. A soft hum vibrated in your throat when she deepened the kiss, drinking you in like the succubus she was. Your hands cradled her face, fingers threading into her hair as you tilted your head, surrendering to her. Her tongue crashed against yours, teasing, chasing, until she caught the very tip between her teeth, giving the lightest, most maddening nip.

You couldn’t help the faint little chuckle that slipped past your lips, one she promptly reciprocated. “You’re being unfair now,” you whined, before laying your forehead against hers. “I– we can’t do this now.”

A flicker of amusement danced in her gaze, as she inhaled deeply in your scent, “I know, but perhaps when the night falls–” her breath was hot on your skin.

You nodded way too quickly. “I’d like that,” your voice came out hoarse, “please,” you added eagerly.

Agatha smiled against your lips, her fingers still tapping at your hips. “Such a good baby girl for me,” she closed the distance between you one more time to give you a gentle peck on your lips. She used that pet name on purpose, knowing the things it did to you, especially in such intimate contexts.

“Ags–” you whined, but before you could say anything else, a sound came to your ears. It felt like a crunch in the grass that interrupted, gladly or less so, it depends on how you see it– the moment between you and Agatha. You three turned, but not at the same time. Nicky had noticed a slight movement coming from a point in the distance, a glimpse of a green cloak, one vaguely familiar to him.

Before you and Agatha could tell him to wait, he trotted in that direction.

Rio could have disappeared. With a snap of her fingers, she could have. She should have. But what was the point? She was never a coward and she clearly wouldn’t start now. For once, in centuries, Lady Death felt like she needed the contact– a physical one. Looking at her family in the eye, and enjoying a glimpse of normality she always wished for herself. So she stayed.

She came out of her hiding spot, and took her hoodie off, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

You and Agatha froze, eyes widening but for different reasons.

Nicky’s face lit up as he ran to her. “Rio! It’s you!”

With a chuckle, she caught him in her arms, and buried her face into his hair, while he nuzzled underneath her chin, “my dear– It’s so good to see you.”

For a moment, time itself seemed to hesitate. It was as if Death and the very essence of Life had met halfway. It felt so right. Rio and Nicky there, together. Your eyes watered, a single tear slipped down your cheek but you wiped at it before it could wet your chin.

Beside you, Agatha tensed up, her magic flickering at her fingertips. One wrong word, one bad movement and you knew she would have snapped. Her magic stilled when you reached out and curled your fingers around hers. She looked at you, brows furrowing, a plea in her eyes. She was conflicted, you knew that. Honestly, who better than you could, after everything you went through?

“Don’t– she’s not here to hurt him,” you reassured her, voice soft and kind.

“Moms!” Nicky called out, as Lady Death pulled him down, ever so gently. His hand in hers as he dragged her towards you and Agatha. “It’s her! She’s the woman I told you about! I found her!”

He looked so happy, your heart swelled. When he let go of her hand, he ran to you and pulled at your clothes, barely containing himself.

Rio didn’t say anything, she waited for you and Agatha to do so first.

“Rio,” saying her name felt like finally taking a breath after being underwater for ages.

She turned, hazel eyes bore into yours with such a raw intensity, you felt the need to get even closer. She looked at Agatha too, with the same love and… what you thought being regret. Guilt gnawed at you as you did, memories of your last encounter came back to you like a hurricane. You had treated her unfairly, let yourself be fuelled by harshness– so deeply foreign to your person and pushed her away.

“I’m sorry for-”

“I need to apologize for–”

Realizing you had talked at the same time, a soft laugh slipped past your lips. She smiled, instead, eyes flickering towards Agatha, catching the moment she started nibbling the inside of her cheek. You caught a gentle blush coloring Rio’s cheeks, when she turned to you once again and your expression softened even more.

“You first,” Rio muttered softly.

You rubbed at Nicky’s back, still clung to your side before speaking, “I shouldn’t have said those things,” you started, your voice barely above a murmur. “And I’m sorry I’ve been cruel to you. I regret pushing you away… it was selfish– you were as scared as Agatha and I were and–” you swallowed a lump in your throat getting bigger and bigger.

Rio’s face fell, her brows furrowing. “No, no, shhh, it’s okay–” She was quick to cut the distance between you. “

Nicky looked up at you, a pout forming on his face, recognizing you were this close to crying. “Mama–?”

You inhaled a deep shaky breath. Your eyes flickered to him, “it’s okay, my love,” you smiled, softly but sincerely. “I’m just– emotional. I’m okay.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, because you indeed were. However, there was more to it: things you weren’t ready to confess to your son.

The sight of your lip quivering, only caused Rio’s heart to feel heavier. Agatha wasn’t doing much better, but she resisted, she had to. With one hand atop Nicky’s shoulder, she kept the other in yours, thumb gently tickling your palm as a way to reassure you.

“I never blamed you for a second. Not you, Agatha…” A bitter smile ghosted her lips as she shrugged. “What other choice did you have?” she murmured.

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows.

“You had no choice either–” you croaked out.

“Yeah, I s’pose.” Rio pursed her lips, trying to offer a smile, but it wavered, tilting into something closer to a grimace. “It’s okay now. No hard feelings,” her attempt at teasing worked quite well, because you chuckled. Weak, quiet, but real. And for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The ache remained, but it was softer now, dulled just enough to breathe.

Agatha scoffed. She knew the pull Rio had on you, knew it because she felt it too. But unlike you, she couldn’t let herself be swayed. She needed more time, proof that it was safe to let the guard down now. No catches. No hidden prices to pay. She wanted to ask, she wanted Rio to be straightforward about her intentions, but sadly that was not the right moment, not with Nicky listening to the conversation.

When Rio reached out a hand towards Agatha, she whimpered without meaning to. The image of the four of you gathered so closely– closer than ever before, was a lot even for her. She hated how she loved it. She hated how much it terrified her: to be shown something she wasn’t sure she could keep for herself, for Nicky and for you. She swallowed, blue eyes boring into hazel ones, searching, digging deep, trying to find clues, anything, pleading even.

"I know this is hard for you– I see you trying, and I appreciate it. Truly." Rio said, her voice thick with emotion. You smiled at Agatha, it was encouraging, lovingly. "What you’ve done here—” Rio’s eyes flickered to Nicky, then. Her hand grazed at his cheek. “It’s nothing short of a miracle. And I couldn’t be prouder."

Agatha could have answered with one of her usual bitter remarks, but decided against it.

Instead, she shot you a teasing look and said, “she did all the work, but insists on giving me the credit, too.”

An amused scoff slipped past your lips, as you rolled your eyes. “We talked about this, Ags–”

“No kidding,” her remark caused Rio to barely stifle a chuckle.

“Wait–” Nicky, his brows furrowed, mind racing, found himself bubbling with a very important question, his mouth parted, before he finally asked, “so, you do know each other?”

A watery chuckle slipped past your lips, as you nodded. Agatha’s smile grew and so did Rio’s. Of course he would have noticed by now, considering you and Rio were talking as if there was a history and indeed there was one. There was no point in lying on that part now, wasn’t there?

“Yeah–” you confirmed, with your hand resting atop his shoulder. “Guess we know the same Rio after all–”

“What were the odds, huh?” Agatha added, her gruff voice taking on a note of fondness.

“There aren’t many like me,” Death teased lightly.

Agatha folded her arms to her chest, “thank the stars for that–”

You shot her a playful elbow, despite knowing full well there was no real bite behind her remark. And Rio– she, too, knew better than to take offense. Agatha and you noticed the way she tried to hide her amusement, by pressing her tongue against her cheek. A thing of hers.

Nicky grinned. In his perspective, this coincidence only made things easier for you to get along. “My moms and I were looking for you.”

Lady Death frowned at his words. “Oh?” Her tone held a note of surprise, though she stopped herself from asking why. She had a feeling you’d give her the answer soon enough.

Nicky glanced up at you, as if searching for the right words. His wish was simple: he wanted Rio to be with you all. And while you knew it wasn’t that easy, that it couldn’t fully happen, not when Rio’s duty was unlike any other, you still hoped to find a compromise.

And as for Agatha– she wasn’t sure what scared her more. The fact that Rio might actually stay, or the possibility of another betrayal coming from her. Because unlike you, she didn’t forget. She wasn’t even sure you did, to be honest. Perhaps you simply pushed the thought aside because you were desperate for some peace and quiet. Some normalcy in your life. And quite frankly, how could she blame you for wishing such a simple thing?

Rio had mentioned a price to pay that night. So if you wanted to let your guard down, then fine, she would have to be the one with a clear head, ready to have your back. To fight, if necessary.

When you spoke, Rio’s heart clenched in a way that almost hurt.

“We were hoping you’d… tag along,” you murmured, so softly you weren’t even sure she heard.

But Rio did. And it stole the breath from her lungs. Not that it could kill her– but it almost felt like it. She looked at Agatha for further confirmation, only to find her nodding at your words.

“I know you’re busy,” you continued, hesitating, your fingers curling slightly at your sides, as a way to cope with your own jitters. Because yes– there was the possibility that your request would be denied. That your hope would burn out as easily as it came to light. “I know your job is part of who you are, but—” You turned, searching for Agatha’s eyes and your heart pounded even faster when she looked at you in a way that made you feel seen and protected. “But you’re also needed here,” you pressed on, your voice steadier now. “With us. You’re not just your job, Rio. And I hope you know… you’re so much more.”

Rio didn’t say a word, she couldn’t trust her own voice yet. She had shown up with a purpose, one certainly less flattering than yours. She curled her fingers into fists, and inhaled. She almost thought the Fates did this to her, manipulated yours and Agatha’s mind into asking her such a thing. And quite frankly it wouldn’t surprise her if that was true. Only to make her suffer more. Only to make her task even more impossible to be carried out.

“I–” she hesitated. She wanted this. She really did.

Nicky tugged at her cloak, with adorable impatience. “Please–” he half whined. “There’s no need to hide. No need to meet in secret anymore. We can be your family–” The way he said that, with such simplicity, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, affected you three at the same time and with the same force.

You, Agatha, Rio and Nicky. A family. A real family.

You reached out, cupped her cheek and stroked her skin ever so gently. “What do you say? Want to give it a try?”

She leaned in, lips a few millimeters from your face, eyes staring at your lips. She loved your hope. And she would absolutely hate it to be the one taking it from you.

To her surprise, Agatha drew closer, too. Gently, almost absentmindedly, she reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Rio’s ear. And for the first time in a while, she allowed herself to truly look at her, not as the witch, and even less as Lady Death. But as the woman beneath it all, who never truly stopped, not even once to be hers and yours.

“Make it right,” she added, and before you and Rio could ask her what she meant by that, she continued, “for us and for you. Just– for the love of the gods, make the right choice,” she finished, her voice barely above a whisper held a pinch of urgency.

Rio let out a quiet scoff, her smile touched with something almost amused—almost, but not quite. The right choice, she said. She had made choices before, choices that defied fate itself. And if she had to do it again—if it meant giving you all something, even if just for a little while—then to hell with it. Her hands were still tied, but she could live with that a little longer.

Her gaze flickered to Nicky, something unreadable passing through her eyes. She knew– Hell, she knew this choice would break her. But it wasn’t just about her. It never was. You all needed this.

So she made up her mind, by offering you the same thing she once did.

“I’d very much like that.”

Time. She could only offer time.

“That means–?” Agatha began, head lolling to the side, suspicion warring with hope in her eyes.

“That I’ll stay.” She confirmed, her voice trembling as tears welled, faster than she could blink them away. “If you all will have me.”

You smiled. Nicky cheered. Agatha swallowed hard, then nodded. The answer to that couldn’t be clearer.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #wlw #rio vidal #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio vidal x reader #agathario x reader #agatha x rio x reader #nicholas scratch

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postmoe · 9 hours ago

Note

I find it attractive of a beta or alpha get turned into an omega if they get fucked to much. So what about yandere alpha geshu lin x beta/alpha male reader x yandere alpha jiyan. Or yandere Mydei x beta/alpha male Reader x yandere alpha Phainon. Reader getting turned into an omega so they can keep him all to themselves and maybe baby trap him 🤭.

dude i have so many beta fantasies it's not even funny. thank you for this opportunity.

non-con, abo, male reader, beta -> omega reader,

It was always the three of you; Phainon, Mydei, (Y/n). You went through training together, fought the hardest battles together, everyone revered you like you were unstoppable.

Well, everyone respected you in a passive/aggressive way because you were covered in the musk of two supreme alphas. Unfortunately for you, in the womb, you never grew to the next stage from being a beta.

Betas were pretty rare now, they started off as the dominant second gender, but as time grew so did the power of evolution. Everyone starts off in the womb as a beta, then months down the line you unlock your social status. Sometimes, you just get stuck as the runt. There have been few cases of people opening their second gender later in life, though only within a very specific fate of events.

It's not all bad. Apparently, Mydei's and Phainon's scent was so extreme that a lot of people couldn't stand near them for a certain amount of time. Alpha's get antsy, compliment or aggressive. Omegas have gone into heat on the spot, rolling over motionless as their hormones take over. Now, they're pretty good at controlling their smell, or so everyone says.

It never bothered you to begin with, your nose not suited to judge others. You couldn't read emotions if it wasn't present on their face, which in this day and age is more of a talent than anything; at least, that's what Phainon says to make you feel better.

For a beta to get this far in life is pretty astonishing. You realise you had a lot of help from your two friends. They've been able to sniff you out when you're in danger, or their scent that lingers on your clothes is enough to stop any intelligent bandit or monster. However, even when you're feeling down about it, even when the world criticizes you for 'using' two alphas to your advantage, they both have been there to keep you reeled in.

"Why do you even bother trying to lie to us," Mydei huffs, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest, "You have a smell, too. It's not like we don't know what you're feeling."

"That's unfair," you sigh, shoulders slumping, "Maybe I just don't want to talk about it, ever think of that?"

Phainon nods, his arms coming to drape over your shoulders from behind, rubbing his cheek against yours, "Everyone is allowed to have their secrets."

You roll your eyes, going back to polishing your sword with the rag while he lounges against you, "It's not even a secret, just the usual shit." You go silent for a moment, feeling their eyes burn holes into for more information. It should have been common knowledge by now that you won't get out of anything from them, so you gently place your sword down groan, "Fine! I walked past one of your fan groups today. An omega was saying how I was only holding back your true potential, that with me on the battlefield then you can't go all out."

Both of them opened their mouths to speak, you held up your hand to zip them shut.

"And before you say anything; yes, I know that I'm strong too. Yes, I know I can fight. Yes, I know they're just 'jealous' that I get to hang around you." You can't make eye contact with either of them, knowing that you might just crack if you do, "... It doesn't always help. I'm okay with that, though. This is the life I chose and I can deal with all the shit thrown my way."

Phainon buried his face in your neck, sniffling into one of your more sensitive parts, the scent glands. You shivered from the contact, he didn't seem to mind as he practically cried, "You're so strong, (Y/n)! But you know, you still have to take care of your mental health, too. I think you should stay away from those people for a while."

Mydei stood from his spot on the grass and walked over, ruffling your hair with his hand before dragging it down your face and to trace your neck, "We haven't been around because of the recent attacks, so our scent is waning from you. Here, we'll ward them off."

You shook your head out of their grip and rolled to the side, away from them, "I don't need you to scare anyone away by smothering me. I think your scent only makes them more mad."

"It's natural biology for an alpha to cover what's theirs in their smell, you can't just tell us to stop," Phainon argues, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing.

With a laugh, you stand and pick up your sword, "Since when am I yours?"

They both silently looked to each other, communicating in a language you would never understand. Mydei tells you, "You've been our beta longer than you've been alone."

"Yep~" Phainon teases, "Should have thought about that before you became our friend."

Yeah, right. One day these two will find their omegas, they'll create a beautiful family and you can be the cool, beta uncle that showers the kids in annoying gifts to rile up their parents. "Sure, whatever," you dismiss, now taking on an offensive stance, "So, we sparring or what?"

...

Storm season is fast approaching in this part of the land. You three had been sent out patrol the far, outer lands on a 'boys' camping trip'. The trek made you sweaty, the days humid and the nights cold, yet you didn't stop until you reached an open cave near the top of the mountain.

Forests surround you, rushing rivers and falls heard in the distance, and the sounds of insects chirping were drowning your ears. You had abandoned your shirt long ago, rolling yourself in insect repellent that did well to make your two companions scrunch up their noses in distaste.

As you set down the heavy bags in the cave, the sun setting in the distance, you noticed some faded, rock drawings on the walls. Walking up to them, you see crude images of stick figure deaths, a chimera with little hearts around it and a spurting dick. Phainon placed his hand on your shoulder, "Mydei drew the penis."

You both look over to see him skulling his sack of water, giving you both the middle finger. You purse your lips, "Even though I've known you for so long, it's always weird to see such a childish side of you."

After setting up camp, you realise how much you may have missed when you weren't able to accompany them on missions. This place is gorgeous, and they only tell tales of greater environments, it left you feeling a sense of awe and a pang of sadness. When they laugh together, bicker, playfully shove at each other, you can see it the way everyone else sees it.

Two, great alphas Mydei and Phainon - plus you. Little, ol' beta you.

It's nothing to get worked up over. Not a big deal, not an issue at all. You notice they've stopped talking and are looking at you with concern. Fuck. Why are you having this crisis now of all times? They can definitely smell you, they know what you're feeling and they're expecting an answer.

You smile at them widely, "Sorry, I just got lost in a daydream." Can they smell when you lie, too? If so, they speak nothing of it.

...

Being able to swim in such beautiful, clean water was a luxury you didn't know you needed. The baths and streams around Okhema were amazing, there's no doubt about it. Hot springs sent from natural sources, lotions and soaps created from the best ingredients, but this... This was something altogether new.

The water was a cold that made your muscles relax, the flavour refreshing and dare you say, curative. The sound was a delightful white noise of rushing water and splashing ripples from either of you or the fish that swim by.

On the shore, Phainon was the last to disrobe, the three of you deciding to skinny dip as a fun, good morning. You greet him with a smile as he resurfaces from bombing into the water, shaking your face of stray droplets, "Are you sure it's alright for us all to be here? I really think one of us should keep watch at the cave."

He lays on his back, closing his eyes while he floats around you, "Don't stress, there are others at points around the outer city. Someone is always watching from one direction or another."

"I see... I guess I'm just wor-" your voice is cut off as your ankle is suddenly grabbed and you're yanked down under the surface. You see the blurry image of Mydei, the red tattooed lines on his skin the main stand out for the fuzzy, underwater alpha.

The two of you duke it out - poorly - until you both resurface and you're gasping for air. He huffs out a breath of his own, hiding any semblance of exhaustion, "You're going to need to fight better than that if you want to get on our level."

As if coming to your rescue, Phainon swims over to him, "Oh, please, as if it's normal for someone to be capable of fighting under water." He then winks to you before shoving the blonde's head down, effectively drowning him out.

The three of you relax around the falls, floating idly in the water side-by-side. You think you could fall asleep, except your nose twitches at an interesting smell. You've smelt it before, very faintly and only when they really push it. What can be excruciatingly stunning to others, you only get a whiff of as a beta; the smell of these alphas.

Mydei and Phainon are a rare sort, extremely strong and capable of power beyond mosts comprehension. A few people are rare like that, some omegas even being too intoxicating for the outside world. It's a pleasant smell, to you, something you not-so-secretly indulge in whenever you get the chance. It also makes you feel slightly more normal.

You wade over and gently rest your head on the upper part of Mydei's stomach, closing your eyes and sighing happily, "I don't get why people can't be around you guys if you're too strong. I like your smell."

Phainon playfully pouts at you choosing Mydei, coming over to join you and rest his head on his chest. He inhales the Kremnoan's scent, smiling serenely, "Omega's and Alpha's never really stop developing their senses until their mid 30's. The older you get, even smells like perfumes can become too much, let alone the emotions of someone with tremendous power."

"Does that mean you guys aren't holding back anymore if I can smell you?"

Mydei moves a wet hand to pet your head, "We don't need to hold back up here."

"Besides," Phainon gazes at you with a fondness in his eyes, "It's nice to share something so personal with someone close, don't you think?"

They can't just relax like this around anyone, and since you all spend most of your time in the city, you hardly get a chance to get a whiff of them. A giddy smile decorates your face, your eyes closing as you relax once more, "Yeah, I agree."

...

On the third day you notice something odd. Your friend's seem to be more agitated, little offsets leading to snarling and biting, every twig snap or rustle has them staring in that direction in case of a particular threat.

You've never seen them like this.

They must be stressed by all the work that's been unloaded onto them. An argument broke out five minutes ago about something you didn't understand, the two deciding to take a walk to cool off and collect more firewood. You decide that this is the perfect time to help them out, picking up a sword and attaching it to your waist before heading out on a patrol. When you get back, they can relax at the duties already being fulfilled.

You don't know the area very well, however, you did accompany them the past couple of nights so you have an idea of where to go. You're not too stressed about getting lost, the trail somewhat visible to someone like you, who has been taught overcome these kinds of obstacles. What you didn't expect was that it gets darker quicker under the canopy of trees.

It appeared you had an hour of daylight left, yet only fifteen minutes later and you noticed a dramatic change. The mountains are certainly an interesting place to be, you're usually stationed closer to the city and nearer the fallen towns.

With the darkness comes fauna that arouse at night, a particular croak gaining your attention. You crouch down with interest, seeing a teal coloured frog with a lighter stomach hop into a puddle. It was smaller than the palm of your hand, yet the sound it made was so loud you would never expect it to come from such a tiny creature.

Your admiration was halted as you hear heavy thumping from deeper in the brush. It's fast, leaves and sticks being moved and thrown out of the way to make room for whatever is coming at you. You quickly draw your sword and take a defensive stance, readying for whatever may be in store.

If it's a boar or something similar, you could climb one of the thicker trees and make your way around by jumping branches. If it's something more like a giant bush cat, then you would have no choice but to fight it.

Turns out, it was neither. Before you had the opportunity to lay eyes on it, there is ablur of movement and your weapon is thrusted from your hand, flying off and landing into the dark distance. You're immediately incapacitated, wrist close to snapping and arm yanked back as you're brought to your knees.

Mydei is snarling aggressively in your ear, holding you down like some convict trying to escape. He spits his words like venom, "What the fuck did you think you were doing? Are you stupid?! Leaving the nest like that wandering off on your own!"

You cry out in pain as he tightens his grip, the sound and pheromones you let off making him back off slightly but not letting go.

Before you can ask what the hell is going on, Phainon appears behind you and walks around so he can kneel at your front. He tenderly cradles your face and looks over you for any other injuries, "Don't hurt him, Mydei. He made a stupid decision but it wasn't his fault."

A breath of relief leaves you when he finally lets go. You slump and cradle your aching arm, flinching when Mydei falls to his knees behind you and resting his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbles into your flesh, "Why did you leave like that? You could have gotten hurt."

With a new found annoyance, you flick Phainon's hands away from you and shrug the other off your back, "What the fuck??? Why are you both acting like I just up and left?"

"Because you did up and leave," Mydei growls, only halting when he and Phainon meet with a hard glare. He tuts and stands, making sure you have nowhere to run if you decided to flee, "We should have just been outright with him from the beginning."

You didn't like the sound of that. Without a word, you look to Phainon for an answer, Mydei is acting too impulsive for your liking right now. Phainon stands before you, both of them now crowding any escape with how close they are, "In truth, we brought you up here because we knew our ruts were coming and we wanted you with us."

"P-Pardon?" It was so incredulous you were sure you heard wrong. But, what else could he have said? "You do know what I am, right? We've only known each other for a couple of decades so be honest if you need a reminder."

Mydei scoffs and grabs you by the back of your shirt, hefting you to your tippy toes to growl, "Our Beta's got jokes. If you can jest then you can mate."

"WHAT?!" You kick your feet comically in the air, trying to find some sort of purchase, "I can't mate - I physically cannot mate! Not with an Alpha!!"

Phainon chimes in giddily, "Two Alphas! Don't worry, we'll ensure you're thoroughly pregnant by the end of this rut."

Body limits aside, being a beta means your reproductive organs aren't open to be used. They're sitting inside you, dormant. For some reason, you don't think they see that as a drawback, instead viewing your biology as more of a challenge to be tackled.

...

Day six and you're sore. Your legs, which have been in every position possible. Your arms, which are restrained when they're doing anything that's not fucking you. Your poor, poor hole, which hasn't been dry in days. Your oversensitive cock, now you can't tell what liquid comes out, your last orgasm streaming like piss on the rock below.

Phainon drags his hot, wet tongue up your neck, moaning as he slips his erected cock into you again. Your mouth hangs open, arse clenching when he's stopped by his knot hitting your rim. He's got you in a full nelson, your thighs over his own, a sound of discomfort coming from you at the stretch of his knot trying to enter you.

He shudders, lightly humping upwards, "Do you smell that, Mydei? He's changing."

Mydei flops his own dick in your face, tracing his leaking tip along the bone of your cheek before he slips his length between your lips, "How interesting. All our darling beta needed was a little push."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as they fuck you again, your pretty, little hole gaping ever larger to accommodate them.

...

The cold, wet soil near the falls was blissful on your overheating skin. You've never felt this hot before, you assume it's a fever coming on from being under these two for however many days now. Mydei has you on your back, tongue swirling and mouth slurping at your puckered arse.

It was nice to just relax and be tended to, as fucked up as that seems. Phainon was behind him, washing his own body and admiring the scene before him.

Mydei licks a stripe from your hole, up the length of your taint and to your flaccid cock. He coos patronisingly, kissing the sensitive tip and making you jolt, "Poor sweetheart, have we been too rough with you?"

It's too little too late to ask you that now. You stick with your mission of giving them the silent treatment unless necessary, turning your head away and closing your eyes, thinking back on the coolness of the soil.

Until, "A-Ahh! S-Stop!" You moan, hands going to his hair and yanking as hard as you can, trying to stop him from swallowing your cock and drinking it over and over again. The way his tongue and cheeks move against your flesh has you throbbing and twitching in his mouth. "I can't, I can't," you breathe, swaying your head side to side as if to deny the oncoming torture.

But you can't, even half-hard he has you spurting your cum down his throat. You hold his head down with each half-hearted thrust, only to pull again before another tingling jolt of your hips.

When you can open your eyes again, you pleadingly gaze to Phainon, who had paused his washing to stare solely at you both. His eyes dart to meet yours, mind working overtime to bring him out of his daze and pull lightly on his companion, "Hey, save some for me, okay? Let him recuperate a bit."

Mydei flies his elbow back, not getting off you. At this, Phainon clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and locks the blonde's head with his elbow, flipping him back into the water.

You take a deep breath as they start to wrestle. Now you can rest again, you rarely get time to yourself now. When they sleep, sometimes, you're still plugged with one of them inside you, cockwarming throughout the night. Otherwise, when they go hunting, you might be tied tightly inside the cave, though there is usually at least one of them with you.

A gentle rain starts, the drops hitting your heated face. You need this, the rain a lot cooler than the falls as it collects in the sky. Lately, you've been feeling weird, unwell, hot. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

Not to mention their scent. The boys' sweat, bodies, just everything about them is becoming less off putting and more desirable than ever. If you're honest, you're scared with what's happening.

...

They had both left you in the cave, the rain a perfect mask for hunting good meat right now.

"Need to keep our darling's energy up!"

You're not sure when, but some time after they left you were reeling in some sort of pain. Not like being slashed by a sword, or thrown by an enemy, but more like a strange punch to the gut. It blossomed within you and bloomed around your body, effecting your head and pelvis the most.

Breathing became difficult, your chest rising and falling quickly, you couldn't focus on how to fix it. No, not with the gnawing pain and discomfort in your gut.

You had wormed your way towards the entrance but the rope only let you go so far. They didn't give you enough leeway to get more than halfway through the cave, which meant you couldn't get any rain to cool you down.

What you did find, however, was their sashes they didn't wear today. Your nose twitched, and you reached your tied wrists over so your fingers could grab the red fabric and scrunched it to your face, moaning in absolute delight. Quickly, you secured the blue and gold one and weaved it between your legs, covering as much of your body as you could.

You're not sure when they came back, only realising they were standing ominously at the entrance of the cave when their musk started to seep heavier than the sashes you were breathing. The rain hadn't let up, both of them drenched and Mydei holding the antlers of a dead deer beside him.

Your jaw trembles, tears running down your cheeks as you whimper, "What's happening to me?"

It's only when you talk do they enter, dropping the carcass to the side before carefully kneeling down to cradle you. Your ropes are torn off and you sit between the two men, both leaning so they can run their teeth over the scent glands in your neck.

You whine as Mydei gently nibbles you, a low groan causing your cock to leak rivulets down your shaft, "Perfect for biting now."

Phainon reaches to gasp your cock, smoothly jerking up the length before circling his fingers along the glands, "I knew your unawaken second gender was this. You just had to be an omega, what with the way you were taunting us; begging to be bred."

Unawaken... Omega? No, that's-

"Hah~ Please..." You lift your hips when you feel fingers enter inside you, easily stretching you open now.

Mydei chuckles deeply, grinning at all the new possibilities going through his head, "Perfect for knotting now, too."

#yandere x reader #yandere mydei x reader #yandere phainon x reader #alpha beta omega #yandere alpha #yandere hsr #male reader #yandere honkai star rail #x reader #yandere alpha mydei x reader x yandere alpha phainon

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strawberrystepmom · 3 days ago

Text

royalty au - knight!dante x princess!reader. established relationship, implied age difference, mention of virginity loss, suggestive. he refers to reader as little love and girl. screenshot thanks to jas over on pinterest <3 | wc 957, reading time: ~5 minutes

A princess in distress finds herself face down across her bed.

The distress, you may ask yourself?

“She had to meet with some self absorbed dignitary today, the poor thing.”

Groaning to dissuade the teasing of your knight Dante, the bedding mostly muffles the sound. You attempt it a second time, kicking your legs out childishly to drive the point that you do not wish to be bothered home.

Unfortunately, he continues by pulling each of your dangling slippers off by hooking a single finger inside of them and tossing them to the side to be picked up by your maids later.

“Imagine how she’d behave if she had to do harder work than that.”

You feel the laces that keep the back of your corset fastened loosen, your ribs suddenly able to expand. A feminine voice speaks up, the small footsteps that accompany it padding across the hardwood floor.

“Ser, we can take ca…“

You cut the speaker off by raising your hand though that face of yours remains mostly buried, lifting it only enough so that your voice may be heard.

“Let him.”

Further elaboration would only create further incrimination. Lifting your head, you glance over your shoulder for a moment and smile softly at the modestly dressed woman.

“I appreciate the concern but you may leave.”

She curtsies and rushes to leave your quarters, shutting the door tightly behind her. Your head drops and once again you find yourself face down, exhaling sharply. Guilt stirs in your gut knowing your lady is now in possession of the knowledge that Dante is clearly familiar with your laces.

You could always make up a tale, claiming the familiarity comes from tending to wounds and therefore keeping the salacious truth out of their minds but women know. That one changed the sheets after your first blood as a young girl and the second one that the man standing behind you took for himself long after you became a woman.

She knows. You’re certain the entire countryside knows. That guilty feeling only compounds imagining the gossips peddling stories about the future queen and the Devil.

The heaviness of the deception pins your body to the mattress, making you feel like you can’t breathe. You keep your face pressed down to hide the shift in your demeanor. Dante picks up far more quickly than you realize, getting back to work tugging at the laces keeping you decent.

“I’ve heard whispers of new marriage prospects coming for a visit,” he whispers, dipping his head so low that his long hair tickles the shell of your ear.

The husky rasp of his voice changes you back to who you were moments before the blues set in.

No longer buried face down in the bed, you turn to face him with a flat expression. “When are they not?”

The man doesn’t bother to hide his amusement, surprisingly nimble fingers pulling you free from your clothing with a few simple movements. You raise your arms over your head petulantly, refusing to move any more than you already have.

“You’re actually going to make me take it off of you like this?”

That haughty expression you wear only to drive him mad settles over your pretty little face.

“I can always call the ladies back in and ask them to bar the door behind you.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. You don’t mean it. He is also not a man brave enough to tempt fate in case you do.

Standing at the side of your bed, he peels your dress upward, over your stocking clad calves. The dress is now pinned beneath your thighs, unable to be moved.

“You may need to offer at least a bit of assistance here, my lady.”

Making no attempt to move, you simply look over your shoulder and shrug half heartedly. The gallant man has already figured out your little game - the control you have over him, the smallest bit of it you get in your entire life - so he indulges you.

“Your grace, don't be difficult. I’m only attempting to help you.”

You offer no response, simply pointing your face forward and attempting to bite back the smile that he can surely see even from behind. The apples of your cheeks nearly touch your eyes when you smile like that. He always notices.

Just like he notices the little wiggle your hips and bottom have suddenly adopted now that they’re only barely covered by the back of your dress. Subtlety isn’t any more your strong suit than it is his, obviously.

The bed dips behind you, leather covered knees caging either side of your body in. Dante leans over you, curling over your back to whisper in your ear.

“Now little love,” he goads, finally ditching the formalities and dipping into the trove of pet names he has just never called any but you. “Make this easy for both of us and I will make it worth your while.”

Your hips raise to settle the curve of your ass against the front of his pants. He lifts your dress further up, up, up and looks down to see the plush of your skin between his thighs. Daring to peek over your shoulder, you lift yourself slightly off the bed so he can continue to peel your clothing from you as delicately as plucking petals from a rose.

“There you go, that’s my girl.”

His girl. The kingdom’s princess and future queen yet belonging most of all to the man atop you. It’s a thrilling prospect and the excitement leads you to crane your head back and up as far as you can, initiating a hungry kiss.

Perhaps you should’ve ordered your maids to stay away all evening.

#dante x reader #dante x you #kendall writes #danken #don’t perceive me please

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