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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months ago

Note

Um... uh... um... would you willing to do a threesome with logan, steve rogers and X-men? reader. I think they will have an interesting dynamic or you could just add this to your kinktober list. (Btw i love your fics they made me happy and also i hope you have a nice day)

Steve Rogers x mutant male reader x Logan Howlett

Headcanons

Im guessing you mean the mutant reader from the two different things ive written with steve? Hes who Im going with at least. As a reminder to anybody who hasn’t read the other two things, the readers hero name is Titan. Not crazy detailed, but I hope its still good anyways.

You can read the other parts here and here

As mentioned in the other parts. You are, were? An X-man. X-men? You were part of their team, on and off for the years between your loss of Steve and you getting him back.

You still helped them out on the regular, going on missions where they needed a guy who couldn’t be knocked down. And yes, you did tell them everything you figure out about SHIELD and the government. You aren’t loyal to the government at all, especially since they wan to use or get rid of mutants like yourself.

You used to have a thing with Logan, but honestly, who in the x-men hasn’t had a thing with Logan at this point? You’ve joked once or twice that he’s like a bowl of mashed potatoes at thanksgiving, or a blunt at a party. Somehow his gruffness charms a lot of people.

If you weren’t so sure in your relationship, you might have been jealous when his gruffness charmed Steve too. But you knew Steve was yours and no one else, but it didn’t stop you from letting him prove it to you every now and then.

You still flirted with Logan when you went on missions together. As the only guys older than everyone else and with insane healing factors like you did, you two bonded.

It also quickly caught your eye how your boy would glance at you two. It really shouldn’t have surprised you to see Steve floundering a bit when it came to Logan. You two were so damn alike sometimes you could see Steve accidentally saying “yes sir” when Logan told him to do something.

Logan noticed it too pretty damn quickly. But for him it was more the fact that he could smell Steves interest and arousal with his heightened senses.

Logan might be an asshole most days, and he had his whole thing with Scott and Jean, but he did ask you how you felt about it, what you wanted to do and whatnot.

Like mentioned earlier, you were sure and secure in your relationship. You knew you wouldn’t lose Steve no matter what you did, and yeah, it did entertain you to watch your pretty boy stumble every now and then.

In the end you and Logan agreed to just keep it up to see where it all went. And it wasn’t like Steve saw Logan a whole lot, at least before. But now you found yourself inviting the x-men to the tower for drinks or whatever else you two got up too.

Steve tried to stay polite and leave you two to hang out together as the old friends you were, but you quickly pulled him into it. mainly because you and Logan liked to watch him blush as you both borderline purred at him.

The flirting kept up over time, and you and Logan had thought it was going in the right direction as Steve became somewhat receptive. That was until Steve one night burst into tears, burying his face into your chest as he apologized.

He was so ashamed of finding another man attractive and flirting with somebody else, he was so so sorry, he would never do it again, please forgive him. He loves you so much, it doesn’t mean anything.

It leads to you having to comfort and kiss him, rocking your lover as you explain what you and Logan had been up too, because you thought Steve would enjoy it. turns out Steve hadn’t picked up all the pieces like you thought, and had felt so bad, imagining that you’d leave him for being disloyal.

Of course, you quickly fix up that misconception, and explain everything to him. And you also had to tease him a little when his face reddened, and his pupils blew when you mentioned your past with Logan.

Youd save those stories for another day, when you needed to get him hot and bothered.

In the end you have to explain Steves reaction to Logan, since none of you wanna make anybody uncomfortable or step on anybodies toes. You both feel pretty bad about it, which is why you also agree to pamper Steve from then on.

Steve is obviously your partner and lover and has been since the 40s, meaning he’s most affectionate with you. He also wont kiss Logan on the lips, wanting it to only be with you.

Logan isn’t offended by this, he knows he’s just a third wheel in your bed, and he’s sure of himself enough to not mind. Logan is happy to get down between Steves thighs instead and lick him out as you kiss him, putting his best into it so you both can listen to Steve keen and whimper.

You two had had a few threesomes before, and yeah, it had been with Bucky every time, so this was new. But there’s a reason Logan is the x-mens shared bicycle. Dude knows what he’s doing, and boy is he skilled.

Any other time, you might have been a little jealous of somebody making your lover moan like that, but knowing it’s just Logan helps. Plus, getting Steves mouth all to yourself is pretty damn good too.

It takes a lot of work to open Steve up, his healing factor making him tighten up over time. His healing factor is nothing compared to the powers you and Logan share, but its close enough that you both know what to do.

Which means the first hour is spent on just pampering, touching and kissing on Steve as Logan works him open and pushes his way inside.

At this point Steve is a teary-eyed shivering mess as he whimpers and moans, his body quivering as Logan pulls him into his lap so you can slot up behind Steve. You and Logan aren’t small in the compartment that matters, so it takes a while to fit yourself inside Steve too, your lover throwing his head back and arching his back beautifully at the new experience.

You and Logan pretty much just sit back as Steve slowly rides you, his hands gripping Logans shoulders hard enough to bruise, even if the bruises fade almost immediately.

Steves hair a mess sticking to his forehead with sweat, his lips bitten red as his strong thighs shudder as he slowly lifts and lowers himself. When he gets too embarrassed, the blonde turns his head around to kiss you again, not wanting the two of you to hear his noises.

It being his first time doing something like this, means neither you nor Logan feel annoyed or sad that Steve spills so easily. The hour or more of prep also left him already teetering on the edge, his voice cracking as he sobs through the orgasm, thank yous spilling from his lips as he couldn’t help but thank you both for doing this with him.

Neither of you x-men got to cum, but in a situation like this it didn’t really matter, you got enough satisfaction out of getting Steve like that.

You end up on cuddle duty, lifting Steve into your arms as Logan expertly changes the sheets and blankets, letting you lay down with Steve before going off to find whatever else your lover might need.

Steve gasps a few times as Logan wipes him clean and makes him drink some water, praise falling from both your and Logans lips, telling Steve how good he did, how beautiful he is, and so on and so forth.

In the end you kinda have to bully Logan into bed with you two. He isn’t just a bootycall expected to leave the moment you guys have had your fun. Plus, Steve wants to lay squeezed between you two more than anything.

Steve ends up dozing off pretty damn quickly, exhausted but oh so satisfied. Logan and you just end up talking about whatever, before you put on some movie from the 70s you both like, the comforting rumble of your voices only putting Steve deeper to sleep.

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sanguineterrain · 5 months ago

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could I request a fic with insomniac!reader and tim? i love your writing im excited to see how you make his character your own! <3

thanks for the request! first time writing tim... kinda nervous like I'm on a first date 🫣 hope you like! this one isn't as mushy gushy as my usual fics (jason) so yeah. also my knowledge of yj is purely through fic 🤙

tim drake x gn!reader. tw insomnia, tim being so awkward but maybe... there are feelings... who can say. tim's character is so interesting to me (probably because I identify with him the most lmao).

****

It's really, really nice of the team to let you stay over tonight. Like, really nice.

You haven't even done much. You're pretty much a nobody in the superhero world, not even a D-list hero. Certainly not anybody that should be hanging out with the likes of Wonder Girl and Superboy and, God, Tim freakin' Drake.

Kon was just overly generous in his cool, brash way, herding you into a spare room after last night's battle. After tonight, you'll politely break away from the team to give them some reprieve. It didn't escape your notice that they didn't hang out last night like they usually do.

You've been awake for an hour now, listening for sounds of life in the corridor. If you were home, you'd already be on the couch watching crappy TV. But you really don't want to run into anyone here.

Maybe you have some chamomile tea leftover from the last time you stayed over. You hadn't stayed the whole night, slipping away without interference as most of the team had gone to their own homes.

You get up, stretching and popping joints. It's always a little cold in the Tower, and it wakes you up as you walk to the kitchen first. You're as quiet as you can be in heating the water and finding the tea.

You take your mug and head to the den. As you enter, you freeze.

Tim turns his head from his place on the couch. The blue light from the TV makes him paler, and his eyes bluer. Sometimes, he looks so much like Bruce Wayne, it startles you.

"Oh," you say, unsure what else to say. Your brain is tired and fried. "I... was just looking for my watch."

That's definitely your dumbest lie. You don't have a watch. Tim sure as fuck knows that.

His eyes flick to your wrist, as if reminding you both how stupid your lie is, then to your mug. He mutes the TV.

You stay where you are. Tim stands, obviously shouldering his own bout of insomnia.

"It's... you can come in," he says, just as awkward as you.

That's comforting. Tim's usually so suave, the few times you've interacted. He's all Gotham Heights, his upbringing never quite sloughing off no matter how many times he's probably tried to blend in and not be so... private school.

"I was just going to bed," he says quickly.

"No, you weren't," you say. You don't mean for it to come out so shrewd. Tim looks a little startled.

"I mean, you don't need to go," you add. "I'll take this to my room. It's fine. Sorry."

"No, I've been here too long anyway. I should work on my case."

Here's the thing. It's not that Tim avoids you because in order to do that, you'd have to see him more than three times a year.

But there's a distance. You've tried not to take it personally, tried to chalk it up to the fact that you're introverted and Kon and Bart are Kon and Bart, and Cassie's too straightforward to beat around the bush, and you've somehow won her over, which is nice.

And Tim is just... cautious. Paranoid.

Those are understatements, and you can't imagine the psychological damage caused by being raised by Batman, but, well, you've seen the previous and current Robins, so you can hazard a guess.

Anyway, Tim kind of acts like an unsocialized cat with you. You once mentioned it to Kon, in nicer words, but he dismissed you, saying, "Whaddya mean? Rob likes you!" Which had assuaged nothing, but whatever.

"I won't be here long," you say, as a last-ditch effort to not make it feel like you're kicking Tim out of his own space. "I just, uh, couldn't sleep."

He watches you in that freaky Bat way, like he's trying to determine if you're a threat or not. Jesus.

"It's hard for me to sleep after a battle," you add, trying to show your belly. That's how it feels, being around Tim Drake. Like you always need to be vulnerable first. Like you're in a battle of wills you didn't know you entered.

He doesn't sit down, but he does say, "Me too."

You nod and drink your cooling tea. "There's more tea in the kitchen if you want. Chamomile."

"I'm... good. Thanks."

You edge over to the armchair diagonal to the couch and sit.

"You can work in here," you say. "Unless, uh, it's too distracting. I'll keep the TV muted."

His laptop is on the other side of the couch. Tim is still, only his eyes moving from you to the laptop.

"I don't wanna push you out," you say.

"It's really fine," he replies immediately.

It's so not fine. This isn't boding well for your insomnia. You're definitely going to be agonizing over this interaction all week.

"I won't bother you," you say.

"I didn't say you would."

Then what's the problem?

Slowly, Tim returns to the couch. You look away, so it doesn't seem like you're watching his every move (you are), nor is Tim clocking your every move (he is).

He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You drink and try to figure out what's playing on TV. It looks to be a rerun of Columbo. You smile.

"You like Columbo?"

Tim looks spooked that you're still talking to him, but he answers. "Yeah."

"Me too."

You watch Columbo silently look for clues. Tim types, fingers flying over the keyboard. Then his fingers pause.

"I used to watch it with Dick," he says. "When I first became Robin."

You nod, giving him your full attention. "Yeah? He seems like the type."

"He does a pretty good impression of him. He likes detective shows."

"You don't?" you ask.

Tim shrugs. "They're fine. I guess I just hate how predictable they can be."

"Of course the boy genius would say that," you say, smirking.

Instantly, Tim's face turns to stone. He hums, looking back at his laptop. You blink. What happened?

"Sorry. That was a joke," you say.

"I know," Tim says, any trace of warmth gone.

You're startled by the shift. "I don't—I wasn't making fun of you. I mean, you are smart. Really smart."

Tim carefully looks at you. "...Thanks."

You nod clumsily. You should've just stayed in bed.

It's quiet for a long time. You're trying to muster up the confidence to escape to your room when Tim speaks again.

"People have said stuff like that to be facetious. I... reacted without reading your tone."

It's not an apology, but it's probably the closest thing you'll get.

"It's okay," you say.

Tim nods. His shoulders aren't so tense, though his posture is atrocious when he's off-duty.

He gets up and gives you the remote. You take it, smile small. Tim retreats.

"You can unmute it if you want. I don't mind."

So you do, and you and Tim spend the next hour half-watching Columbo and half-watching each other. Eventually, your tea finishes, and the episode ends, so you get up.

"I think I'll try and sleep," you say.

Tim nods. "Good luck."

You hum. "Thanks. Good luck with the case."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You wash the mug and leave it on the dish rack. Then you escape back to your room. You really do feel like you could sleep again. Maybe Columbo reruns are the magic ingredient to a good night's sleep.

#tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x reader #red robin x you #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake imagine #dc fanfic #dc imagine #batman fanfic #batman imagine #inbox #blurb

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cloudraker · 4 days ago

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Oh hello! I've seen that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could write headcanons for MTMTE, about a sleepy human reader (platonic) accidentally falling asleep on the minibots during movie night (swerve,taligate,rewind) Thanks!!

For sure, thank you for requesting! First request I've done in a while so apologies if it's a bit messy

MTMTE Minibots with a Human Falling Asleep During Movie Time

Under the cut :)

No matter what movie it is Swerve will talk through it. It's a skill to be able to commentate on anything that's happening and it's a skill he has mastered. It rarely adds anything to the story but sometimes the joke is good. Everybody gave up shushing him after the second movie

Swerve is also the one that usually suggests what movies to watch- he's got a whole list of movies from Earth he wants to see and he is going to see them

If Rewind doesn't have the movie then they use like. Space torrent or something they find a way

Rewind is the designated projector. He doesn't mind because that means he has to be invited and also he gets to keep the movie file after

It's during movie night when some movie you've already seen four times is playing that you start to nod off. You don't mean to, you know you should stay up to watch the movie but your work on the ship has been rough lately and you've already seen this movie so surely it's okay if you just close your eyes for a second

Tailgate is the first to notice, almost waking you up with the noise he lets out at the sight of you just conked out next to them. He has to stop himself from touching you- he doesn't want to wake you up

Rewind shuts the movie off as soon as he realizes what's going on. He's got the movie on file already so he doesn't need to see the whole thing and now there's something to record and he's already got like four photos from very slightly different angles

Swerve is.. conflicted. On one hand he really wanted to see that movie and it was just getting good but on the other hand. Well. Hardly fair if you miss out on the movie (he is watching you sleep like and is enraptured. he is fascinated)

Whoever you fell asleep on (or nearest to) is NOT allowed to move on threat of being banned from movie nights. Yes, this includes Rewind.

It's like when a pet falls asleep on you. You aren't allowed to move it's illegal it's a crime

The three minibots huddle around you, making sure you're covered and able to sleep soundly enough. Anybody who comes in is very quickly shooed out as quietly as they can

They talk quietly while you sleep, Swerve doing most of the talking while Tailgate mostly listens and Rewind films more content like a normal guy

When you do wake up again it's so over for you. Tailgate and Swerve are going to be talking about it for a while and Rewind has photos that he shares with Chromedome who shares it with Brainstorm and now the entire ship has seen it

If it ever happens again they start a collection of photos, all stored in chronological order. Rewind has a digital copy of everything saved in his database. May or may not be making a montage of awkward sleeping positions you've been found in just for shits and giggles

#transformers #maccdam #transformers x reader #mtmte #transformers headcanon #rewind #mtmte rewind #tailgate #mtmte tailgate #swerve #mtmte swerve

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bones4thecats · 1 year ago

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hello there!! I don't know if you write for anubis, but if you do can I request for anubis, Loki, qin shi Huang, and Tesla with a reader who have a Japanese porcelain doll-like pretty? She rarely talk and people often think she have a cold personality but she was actually shy and anxious (basically komi reader), thank youu!! :D

A/N: I have just started writing for Anubis, and other characters, you can find them on my Character List, which is linked on my Masterlist! Now, enjoy!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐶 Anubis had first met you because of a Gods' Council meeting, boring I know!

🐶 He watched as Zeus introduced you

🐶 Your quiet and seemingly cold personality actually got him to be centered around you, as he wanted to see you smile so badly!

🐶 He tried getting you to smile so badly, and when he noticed how sweet and kind you were to a child who passed you by when running up and down the temple stairs, his heart fluttered

🐶 Every other God in his Pantheon was after your beauty, but he was after your personality

🐶 Anubis looked at you when you hid behind him, since Zeus was ogling you, again

🐶 Whenever this happened, he'd pick you up and take you back to his home where he would lay his headpiece on your head and let you play with his hair

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐍 You and him were polar opposites

🐍 Everybody is very confused and wondering what the hell went wrong

🐍 Loki was the gremlin of the Norse Pantheon while you were the angel of the Norse Pantheon, it just didn't add up

🐍 While many, including you, believed that Loki was just into your looks and teasing you for sheer fun, you all quickly learned that he did genuinely care about you

🐍 Whenever you got nervous and didn't wish to be around people, Loki would hold you in the air with him as he people watched

🐍 He also enjoys to speak, so you don't have to worry about him not liking your silence, in fact, he quite enjoys it!

🐍 Normally after he played a series of pranks, he'd hike himself in a tree and take a nap, now, he finds his new napping spot in your lap, causing you to get flustered and hide yourself

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

👑 He adores your personality with a passion

👑 Qin is more of a social and extroverted person, so you being more of an introvert makes people question exactly how he managed to bag you

👑 And he loves to tell the story to anybody, willing or unwilling, to lend an ear for him to speak

👑 He had met you one day while walking through a market, and he watched you hand a fruit to a hungry child before paying for it, smiling as you patted their head

👑 It took a while, but when you guys got married, he showed even more care for you

👑 Qin would hold you in his lap, allowing you to hide your face in his neck whenever there were a bunch of people in a room

👑 He also enjoys having you design him new bandannas, and while he never wore them, as he feared they'd get damaged, he would hang them up in his and your room

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🧪 Tesla had been working on a special mechanism and called in one of his colleagues for some assistance on finding a special piece of machinery

🧪 He watched as he called you up and ordered the piece of metal, and he was wondering how much you knew about it all

🧪 And when you arrived and helped him place it in, giving short and very quiet recommendations, he realized how amazingly smart you were

🧪 Nikola and you connected on how much you enjoy quiet and calm environments

🧪 And all the time you guys spent together eventually led to you guys dating and getting married

🧪 Whenever he had to work, you would be either in the same room working on something yourself or at home doing something for when he got home

🧪 As he is a very busy man, he would be out of the house often, which he hoped didn't bother you, but, thankfully, it didn't

🧪 Your quiet personality and his stoic and quiet personality made a great mix, as whenever he was working, you'd just sit there and listen to his light comments as he worked

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

Text

I Come With Knives

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I am not tagging anybody in this because this fic deals with very heavy subjects and I don't want to force anybody into that unexpectedly.

Title comes from "I Come With Knives" by IAMX

Warnings: blood, injury, blood drinking, mentions of past abuse (not explicit), mentions of emotinal/psychological abuse, mentions of (emotional) manipulation, self-inflicted injury (somewhat vague in description), trauma, slavery mention, angst with a dash of fluff here and there

If I need to add more PLEASE let me know

Word Count: 2,025

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The moment you laid eyes on him, you knew what he was. Even in the sunlight, those crimson eyes, the fangs, the bite marks. There was no denying it. But he never said anything about it, never brought it up, nor did he eat in front of you - so you let it lie.

You weren’t a vampire, fortunately, but unfortunately you’d been… a slave… to one. You toss and turn at night, imagining you’re back in her arms. Writhing under her, light fading as she drinks too much in her anger. How she coos and cuddles you afterward, urging water and fruit into your mouth as you cling to her. You wake up nauseous and panting, cold sweat sticking to your skin.

“Bad dream?”

You whipped around, the dagger you kept under your pillow aimed at the owner of the voice. Astarion chuckled, hands raised to show he was unarmed. You sighed and dropped your weapon.

“A really bad dream, then, or are you always so quick on the draw?”

You stay quiet and wipe the sweat off your brow and upper lip. There was a stream nearby… but the thought of being alone out here at night terrified you. Sleeping out in the open with another vampire mere feet away was bad enough.

But there was nothing else you could do now to distract your mind. Her eyes, her smile were burned into your every thought, taunting you, beckoning you back to her.

“I dreamt of my master,” you admit. His eyes squint with intrigue. You feel bile in the back of your throat. “She haunts me every time I close my eyes. I can’t get rid of her.”

He hums, contemplative. “When you say ‘master’...”

You hum, thinking you knew precisely what he was going to say. “She’s probably not too different from yours.”

All at once, he shuts down. The playful, charismatic aura about him turns to stone in a heartbeat. His voice is sour and sharp when he speaks, like a snake’s hiss. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then pretend I said nothing, but you’re not exactly trying to hide what you are.”

He opens his mouth, fangs prominent, but the conversation is cut short when someone shifts in their bedroll. You both watch, waiting for the still silence to return. Even once it does, he says nothing.

“Goodnight, Astarion.” You tuck your dagger back under your pillow and lay back down, tugging the blanket up and over your neck. He catches a glimpse of puncture wounds before they’re hidden away once more.

It’s almost noon the next day when he brings it up. Shadowheart and Gale forge ahead, chatting idly about their goddesses. When he sidles up beside you, you wait for him to speak.

“I thought I was being subtle.” It’s light, almost a pout. He doesn’t want to scrape past the surface just yet.

“The fangs and eyes could be excused, if you weren’t an elf. But I’d recognize a scar like that anywhere.” You look at him from the corner of your eye. “And the jokes were a little on the nose.”

His lip quirks up. He looks at you appraisingly, sizing you up. “You have the same scar,” he pointed out. You looked straight ahead again. He looked too… pleased with himself for noticing. “No wonder you wear a high collar - it looks deep.”

“I…” you swallow. Thinking about her makes you so flustered. It’s hard to find words when just thinking about it placed a boulder in your gut. “I was her personal blood supply. Every night, she…”

You don’t see the way his face softens. Haughty superiority replaced with a sort of sorrow. Empathy.

“I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it.”

Leaves brush up against each other around you with the coming and going of a cool breeze. The only other sound besides the conversation up ahead was the sound of boots stepping on dirt and over branches. You focus on it all, desperate to distract your mind.

Astarion clears his throat. “Your form is lousy, by the way.”

You turn and stare at him as though he’d sprouted a second head.

He pretended to study his nails. “When you threatened me last night, your grip was sloppy. And you’d never be able to land a solid blow, not without breaking your wrist first. Threatening an enemy is only as good as your ability to act on it.”

“So my form was like an empty threat?”

He grinned at you like you were a child grasping the alphabet for the first time. “Precisely.”

“And I assume you’d be the one to teach me how to improve?”

“Darling, there’s no one better. I would be willing to give you a pointer or two. If you ask nicely.”

You smiled despite yourself. And later, back at camp, you said please and he showed you everything you needed to know to defend yourself.

The stars glisten overhead. Each twinkle is a secret shared between them. A whisper of gossip. You can almost imagine what it would sound like - the tinkling of bells, the soft clink of porcelain.

Astarion purposefully makes his steps louder so you don’t startle when his face pops into your vision. The bags under his eyes seem deeper. His cheeks more hollowed than usual, skin sickly white instead of simply pale. He nudges his head toward the forest, and waits impatiently as you stand to follow.

Long strides carry him quickly through the underbrush, you’re nearly jogging to keep up. And suddenly he stops, ways enough from camp that talking wouldn’t wake anybody up.

He paces, almost frantic. “I don’t know who else to come to for this. The others already don’t trust me - they’d kill me before showing an ounce of kindness.”

“Astarion, what are you talking about?”

He groans and comes to a stop in front of you. His eyes are crazed and starved and apologetic. “I’m hungry,” he finally quietly admits. He takes a step back when he sees the microexpressions in your face. The way your eyes become distant and sharp. At the same time as your mind wanders to your master, you were searching him for any signs of danger. “I know what you’ve been through, but I can’t keep slinking off to eat squirrels and boar - it’s not enough, not if I have to fight. I feel so… weak. I’m open to suggestions, darling, really. I’d much rather not latch onto an old scab.”

When he says it, you turn your head away to hide that side of your neck. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. He can hear your heart racing in your chest. He’s worried for a moment that you’ll pass out. But he waits, as patient as a starving vampire can be, while you think. He makes no move forward, no efforts to reach toward you or grab you.

If eating animals couldn’t satisfy him enough, then only bigger prey would. Your mind jumps to shout “HUMAN” in your ear, but then you’re reminded of the bodies left in your wake. With each encounter, all manner of unsavory types were abandoned, left to rot and decay.

“T- The goblins? Could you eat those?”

He huffs, frustration seeping into his tone. “Well, yes, but there’s a startling lack of them for at least a mile down the road. With your permission, I’d be more than happy to eat my fill after a fight - even during, should it come to that. But if I have to fight tomorrow like- like this,” he gestures to himself, but his voice chokes before he can describe what may happen. He sighs.

The moon watches silently as you struggle against yourself. The stars whisper vitriol to each other, giggling as you clench and unclench your fists. You could do it. You could help him, right now. But just thinking about his mouth on your neck-

You swallow. “I may have an idea. I- I don’t know how well it’ll work, but…”

“I’m all pointy ears, darling.”

You stumble over your words, trying and failing to explain your thoughts. Eventually, you huff in annoyance with yourself and tell him to wait there, before disappearing back in the woods towards camp. You grab your dagger from beneath the pillow, an empty bottle you found, and a roll of bandages.

He frowns when he sees what you’ve returned with. “What are you doing with all that?”

You shove the roll of bandages towards him and he takes them, unwilling to upset you further when your face was set with such determination. You hold the bottle under your arm and steady your blade against your hand.

“Darling, what-”

The smell of blood hits him like a tidal wave. He can’t tear his eyes away. Something animalistic inside of him wants to lunge for a drink; it takes every ounce of his willpower not to.

You uncork the bottle with your teeth and line the dripping blood up with the whole. With a squeeze and a whimper, blood begins to fill the container. The drip slows when the bottle is halfway full. Even for a small jar, it’s impressive. You hold it out for him to take, a slight tremor in your fingertips. “Drink it.”

He can’t argue. He can barely form the words to say anything. All he can think about is the sanguine fluid presented to him. He licks a stray drip trailing down the side of the bottle with a sigh. So sweet. So warm. Thick and rich, not some watered down rancid rat’s blood. He’s groaning as he tips it back, gulping every last drop down.

In his distraction, you pull the bandage from his hand. It takes no effort at all. You wrap a section around your hand.

Astarion sighs long and low when he finishes. His eyes are closed, savoring the taste on his tongue. “That was…” He huffs with a smile, fangs bared and tinted with your blood. When the daze of hunger passes, his eyes find you.

You tried repeatedly to hold the bandage in place, pinning it between the back of your hand and your stomach, trying to hold onto it with your fingers, even trying to use your teeth. It falls each time. You’re careful not to let it hit the ground. You had enough to worry about - best not add infection to the list. Pale hands stop you before you can try again.

You startle away at first. His fingers barely wrap around your wrist, making no effort to hold you in place, only to hold you steady. His other hand takes hold of the bandage.

“May I?” It’s deep, almost seductive. He has a smirk on his face again. Already his skin is gaining the slightest tint of color; his eyes don’t look as tired. “It’s the least I could do.”

Everything inside of you tells you to run away. He’s too close. One quick movement while you’re off guard and he could drain you dry. He could hurt you. Your dagger is abandoned on the ground, dirt sticking to the wet blood along its edge as it waits to be cleaned. You’re defenseless.

With the barest nod, he gets to work. Nimble fingers wrap the cloth securely and tie it off on the back of your hand, out of the way so you can still hold onto things. He guides your hand to his mouth and you’re scared he’ll tear the bandage off and dig his teeth and tongue into the cut, but all he does is place a small kiss over it.

“This is a gift, you know,” he whispers, eyes half-lidded not with lust - but something reminiscent of it. A poor imitation. “I won’t forget it.”

He lets go of your hand. With a smile - too devious to be genuine - he slips back into the woods.

Her eyes don’t haunt you in your dreams that night. Her mouth doesn’t curl around contempt and honeyed words. All you see is him. His eyes staring through thick lashes into yours as his lips place a feathered kiss on your hand.

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion & tav #astarion & rrader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #i come with knives

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tswhiisftteedr · 10 months ago

Note

ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime

Girls ☆ One Shot

☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:

After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.

Words: 4228

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.

Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'

From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’

The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.

It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.

There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.

However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.

This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.

However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.

"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."

With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'

Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.

The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’

You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;

Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.

Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."

You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.

Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.

Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'

This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;

"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.

"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.

"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’

"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.

"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.

"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.

"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.

The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.

"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.

"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.

"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.

And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.

With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.

Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;

Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.

Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.

That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"

Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.

Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’

Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.

"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.

"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.

"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.

Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.

Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.

"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.

"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.

"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.

"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.

To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.

After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.

Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.

Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.

You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.

Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;

Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.

Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.

But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…

You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.

As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."

"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.

She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.

After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.

At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.

However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.

You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.

Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.

Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.

A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.

Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.

Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';

Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.

She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.

Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.

Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.

This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.

Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.

By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.

Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.

She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.

Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.

Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.

She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.

Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.

Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.

Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;

"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.

"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.

'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.

However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.

Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."

Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.

A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.

With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.

Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.

Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.

Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.

Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;

Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.

You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”

"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.

“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.

As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’

Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.

Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.

You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.

Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.

With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.

Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.

Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.

You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.

Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.

Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.

"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.

"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.

"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.

This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…

Thanks anon for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

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kooksvspogues · 3 days ago

Text

Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 2 -

Authors note: thank you guys sooooo much for the love I received on Part 1. I used to write so much, but gave a lot of it up, this is my first tumblr account and I really wanted to give my writing a shot on here. Thank you again, sooo much🥹❤️

“Really? Thought we agreed that we would pretend that didn’t happen?” I roll my eyes

“What if I don’t want to forget about it?” He asked

“Well that’s not what we agreed on” I state, “Mack would be really mad about that”

“You do realize Logan flirts with you 24/7 and all she does is laugh” Drew points out

“Yeah cause she knows it’s 100% jokes on both sides” I explain

“Maddie, we talked for hours and made out for like 20 minutes and you ran off… I don’t think Mackayla would be that pissed about it.. besides, I haven’t had that good of a conversation with anybody ever in my life. I’m not asking to be any more than just friends, I just really enjoyed having somebody to talk to like that” he explained

“We can be friends, that’s it” I state

“Okay, cool. But, I do have one question” he says

“What?” I ask looking over at him

“Why did you run off?” He asks

“Beca——“ I started but my phone started to ring. Saved by the bell. I look down and see that it’s Mack calling me, “yes ma’am?” I answer

“Why have y’all been at a stop sign for like 5 minutes?” She asks and I can’t help but laugh

“Me and Drew were talking about Lilian and he was showing me pictures he has taken, why?” I lie, watching as Drew gave me a weird look and I point for him to start driving

“Oh, okay, well will you grab us a big bottle of fireball while your out, I forgot to add that to the list” she explained

“Yea as long as you stop stalking me” I laugh

“Fireball is for you ma’am, and I will never stop stalking you, y’all be careful and hurry up” she said

“Sir yes sir” I laugh before hanging up

“She’s stalking us?” Drew asked

“Yep, so get a move on” I say

“You never answered my question” he said

“And it got interrupted for a reason” I state keeping my eyes on the road ahead of us, “man, I forgot how much I missed this place”

“Yeah the views are beautiful” he says and I feel his eyes on me, causing me to glance over at him

“Can you keep your eyes on the road?” I laugh

“Hard to” he says grinning before winking at me

“Get me to this liquor store and back in one piece please” I beg making him laugh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the way back to the house, I did everything in my power to not let that question come up again. How was I supposed to answer it.. why did I run? How was I supposed to explain that just in a few hours of talking, I had fallen for my bestfriends brother and then the feelings grew 20x more the second his lips touched mine. Mack would be furious probably, especially knowing we snuck off at her wedding to make out. I can’t do that to her. The more his hands touched me and the tighter his arms got around me, the more it hit me like a truck that I couldn’t do this, not to Mack, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had and I can’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Hey, we’re here” Drew said shaking her arm pulling me out of my thoughts, “you okay?”

“Perfect” I say shooting him a quick smile before opening the door and sliding out.

Logan came rushing out of the house to the passenger side of the truck as I smile up at him.

“I’ll get this, you go ahead and go inside” he tells me and I nod, quickly going inside only to be met with Mack and Lilian at the door.

“Everything go fine, figured an alcohol run would be a good ice breaker for you two to get to know each other” Mack said

“Oh yeah, he’s very sweet” I smile at her before making grabby hands for Lilian, to which is happily handed her over.

“Yeah, he’s awesome, did the liquor store have everything on the list?” She asked

“Yes ma’am, felt like alcoholics coming out” I said making us both laugh as we watch the boys walk up to the door. Lilian making noises as soon as she sees Drew come into view making him smile real big down at her before glancing up at me holding her. I smile back at him as I follow behind Mack into the kitchen after the boys.

“Okay, so most of everything needs to go in the patio fridge, I’ll grab what I want to stay in here” Mack says as we all stand around waiting for her to separate everything. I rearrange Lilian and put her on my other hip, looking up and finding Drew’s eyes on me, causing me to raise an eyebrow, to which he just winked back. I shake my head but can’t help but slightly smile.

“Mads, you want your stuff in here or outside?” She asks

“In here, duh” I say immediately reaching for the fireball and going to stick it in the freezer.

“What else do you drink?” Drew asked

“She’s a hard liquor girl if she gets to choose” Mack answered for me

“Pretty much” I laugh as drew nods crossing his arms

“Hey uh Mack, would you be okay with me asking Austin and chase to go out with us tomorrow?” Drew asked

“Yeah, of course, are they the only two in town?” She asked

“Yeah, as far as I know” he answered as she nodded.

“Let me go call them before I forget” he said before walking out

“You’ll love Chase and Austin” Mack said catching my attention

“Well if you do, I’m sure I will too” I smile

“And they love to dance” she said shaking her shoulders making me and Lilian giggle, “so maybe you can find you a new dance partner” she added

“Yeah maybe so” I say shrugging as Drew walks back in.

“They’ll be here, you may have a house full tomorrow since your house is closest” Drew says

“They know where everything is, they’ll just have to crash on the couches or floor this time… that is, unless one gets on Maddie’s good side” she said wiggling her eyebrows, making mine and Drew’s eye widen

“Please don’t say that” I plead

“What? I’m just saying, I mean, I think Chase is talking to someone but Austin, he’s single and ready to mingle the last I heard” she giggled

“I’m really good” I laugh nervously

“C’mon Maddie, you haven’t told me anything about a guy in like 2 years, wouldn’t hurt to keep look” she winked at me making me shake my head

“Okay, so all the rest of this goes outside?” Drew changed the subject going to pick up bottle and cases, glancing up at me a few times with a clenched jaw.

“Yes, please” she answered as Drew walked out and towards the back patio door, Logan following close behind.

“So, I was thinking, we have a little pool party of our own while the boys grill later?” She asks

“Sounds good to me” I say as she walks closer to me wrapping her arms around me

“I’m so glad you’re here” she says, “I’m so ready to have you completely back in the same state”

“You’re just ready to have a babysitter at any time” I laugh

“I mean, your not wrong, buuut I’ll also be able to have a girls night anytime we want really” she explains

“Also true” I agree as she smiles at me as the boys walk back in as Garrett comes in the front door.

“Who’s ready for burgers??” He yells

“We arrrre” Logan yells back

“Hey baby” Garrett says walking over to Mackayla giving her a kiss

“Hey, thought we could all go for a swim while your grilling, that okay?” She asks

“Yeah, fine with me” he smiled, “I’m just gonna go fire the grill up, get everything put together and get them going, y’all go ahead”

“Alright, swimsuits everybody” she yells pushing the boys towards the stairs, me following behind.

“Does Garrett have a pair we can borrow?” Drew asks

“That’s where we’re going” Mack sings making me laugh a little

“You have a swimsuit, right?” She glances back at me

“Yes ma’am, you want me to go grab one for Lils?” I ask her

“Yes please, her swimsuits should be in the third or fourth drawer” she says and I nod walking towards Lilian’s room.

“Alright Ms. Lilian, what color should we do?” I ask her pulling the drawer out, “want duckies or daisies?” I asks snd she jerks around in my arm making me laugh as she reaches for the bright pink swimsuit with little yellow daisies. “Daisies it is” I smile putting the other one back in the drawer and turning towards her changing table, looking for a swimming diaper. “There they are” I mumble to myself before grinning at Lilian. Once I get her changed, I turn to head towards my room but stop in my tracks when I see Drew standing at the door with his hand leaned up against the frame, every muscle in this man’s arms and chest flexing, smiling down at me

“You’re really good with her” he says calmly, as if he isn’t making my heart, brain, and eyes explode in this very moment

“Thanks” I smile trying oh so hard to keep my eyes on his and not anywhere else.

“You want me to take her so you can go change?” He asks me

“Yeah if you don’t mind” I say as he reaches for her. I walk across the hall into my room and unzip my suitcase, digging around until I find my swimsuits. I pull out my favorite black two piece bikini and quickly change into it but start to hear excited voices downstairs. When I walk out, I see Mack walking back upstairs,

“Hey, Chase and Austin are here, I think Drew told them Garrett was grilling and they hurried on over, was just gonna let you know” she said before glancing down at my swimsuit, “you look smokin” she said putting her hand on her hip, nodding at me.

“You too hot momma” I laughed looking at her bright pink bikini as she grabbed my hand pulling me down the stairs.

“Chase! Austin!” She yells causing them to glance up as we come down the stairs. My eyes immediately locking with Austin’s as he just smiled at me, “this is my bestfriend from college, Madison, Maddie, Mads, dumbass, whatever you prefer” she introduces making me swat at her arm, “Mads, this is Austin and Chase” she says as they both smile at me.

“Nice to meet y’all” I say

“Nice to meet you too” Chase says

“You mind if I just call you beautiful?” Austin says making my eyes wide and cheeks redden as Mack elbows me a little

“Uh um.. yeah. I mean, I guess that’s fine” I nervously say looking up at him as he smiled back at me. I see Drew in the corner of my eye turn away and scratch the back of his head before walking outside.

“Let’s go help Garret dude” Chase says as he catches Austin’s attention again before pushing him outside

“Looks like Austin is interested” she said poking my side

“I need a drink” I say walking into the kitchen, going straight to the freezer and opening up the new bottle of fireball, taking a few swigs.

“Did he make you that nervous?” She asked laughing

“You have no idea…” I say taking another swig thinking about Mack’s brother instead of the man she thinks I’m actually thinking about…

To be continued…

Tag list: (if you want to be added, just let me know❤️)

@percysley @dilfs-4life

#drew x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #obx season 4 #obx imagine #obx4 #rafe obx #obx fanfiction #obx cast #obx fic #obx #obx x reader #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outer banks

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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 9 months ago

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With Me

Click here for my masterlist.

Click here to add yourself to my taglist.

Request - Please do cross with 2 from your prompt list ❤️

Prompt - "I didn't know where else to go."

Things had been bad for a while.

You’d noticed things within the Order had started turning, noticed the Master’s had started turning a blind eye to things they usually would never have let pass. The war had dragged on for years, everyone was tired, everyone felt older than their age.

You knew things were bad, knew supplies must have been stretched thin, when you were sent on your own mission. You were still only a Padawan, granted you probably should have transitioned into Knighthood by now but with the war that was the last thing on anybody’s mind, but you were still a Padawan.

You shouldn’t have been leading a battalion.

It was bad enough being entrusted with the lives of all these men, each of them looking to you for answers you didn’t have. You couldn’t contact your own Master, he was far away on another planet leading his own men.

You were on your own.

The battle was bad. It was a bloodbath. You had barely come out of it with your life, four days fighting non stop only to come out without a victory and with the lives of many men on your shoulders.

The only reason you had come out alive is because you called so strongly upon the Force you were certain you’d touched the Dark Side. You could still feel it thick in your veins but by the end of four days you were too tired to care.

You sat on your bunk on the way back to Coruscant, feeling numb. There were no words to make it better, nothing you said could comfort the remaining men on the ship. You’d already been called to the meeting room, expected to fill the Council in once you arrived.

You weren’t exactly thrilled to be going before the Council. You could still feel the dirt on your clothes, the blood on your face, aches spread throughout your whole body and you were pretty sure you needed to see a medic but you were so numb to everything that it didn’t matter.

Eventually the ship landed, you stayed on your bunk for a long time before you managed to pull your tired body up, somehow forcing one foot in front of the other until you found yourself in the middle of the Council room.

Master Yoda had been talking for some time, filling the other members in on your mission and informing them that he felt a disturbance in the Force.

“The Dark Side, did you touch?” Master Yoda finally addressed you.

It took you a moment longer than it should have to realise the attention was fully on you and you managed to shake yourself back to reality, looking around the room to see the majority of the Master’s looking at you with mistrust and disgust. You couldn’t help the stinging in your eyes when you saw your Master’s seat was empty.

“Yes.” You forced the word out, too exhausted to care anymore.

Master Yoda started talking again but you drowned him and the other Master’s out as they began to discuss your fate. You wanted to care what became of you, any other time you’d have fought hard to be heard but the war had drained you, you hadn’t seen your Master in so long, hadn’t trained properly in years, there was no community among the Jedi any more, your friends were scattered across the galaxy and you hardly had anyone to confide in anymore.

You couldn’t help but smile, a weak, barely there tug of the lip as you thought about the few people you did truly have in the galaxy.

Clone Force 99.

They had been brought in on plenty of your Master’s missions and you had been excited to meet them, back before the war had drained everything from you. Wrecker had been the easiest to get along with, especially once he saw your knack for blowing things up. Wrecker was the best to go to when you needed cheering up, when you needed someone to shoulder the weight on your back with you.

Hunter and you worked well together. It might have taken him a second to warm up to you, to welcome you as one of his but once he had, stars help anyone who tried to hurt you. You gravitated toward Hunter when you needed advice, when you needed to vent, when you needed someone to ground you. Hunter felt like everything your Master used to be, back when you were a child, back before the war became the only thing that mattered.

Tech had taken the longest to warm up to you. You hadn’t minded though, you understood that their whole lives had been just them, the regs didn’t exactly treat them well. Letting somebody else in for somebody like Tech was a big step. You’d manage to earn his trust though, letting him ramble on about things you didn’t understand, brushing away the others when they told Tech to calm down. You’d let Tech teach you about the ship, about the blasters, about your lightsaber and slowly he let you in, seeking you out on his own and the good thing about Tech was he didn’t expect anything from you. He was content for you to sit and watch him tinker away whilst he filled the silence without needing a reply.

You loved them, some days they were the only thing that stopped you from going rouge, from leaving the war behind.

It was Crosshair that kept you going though. Whilst Hunter and Wrecker had warmed up to you easily enough, Crosshair had kept his distance. He’d look at you from across the room with a scowl on his face, he’d grunt at you instead of giving you an actual response and he just about drove you crazy.

You loved him anyway.

It had taken you nearly dying for him to admit he didn’t hate you as you’d originally thought, he just hadn’t wanted to like you as much as he did. Crosshair was used to what he had, much like Tech was. He didn’t want to care about somebody else and yet you made it impossible for him not to.

Once Crosshair finally let himself admit that he liked you it was like something in the galaxy itself shifted. Clone Force 99 was brought onto more and more of your missions and you found yourself staying in the Marauder more than your own quarters. You and Crosshair worked like you’d been working together your whole lives, you didn’t need to talk, able to communicate through looks and work your way through whatever obstacles stood between you and your goal like it was nothing.

It was only a matter of time before you felt yourself falling from the sniper.

At first it terrified you, sure you’d looked at people before, could appreciate that they were attractive but you’d never wanted to act on it. Never had to force your eyes away from their lips, fixated on how Crosshair fiddled with the toothpick in his mouth. Never had to snap yourself back into a conversation so much because you were too focused on his hands as he cleaned his weapon.

Everything about Crosshair was intoxicating, it was consuming. Most days it felt so easy to lay your head on his shoulder, to forget that outside the walls of the Marauder there was a war happening. Most days you could sit at his side, listening to the sound of his voice as you let him lull you to sleep.

Everything about Crosshair was everything the Jedi Code forbade.

“Dismissed you are, from the Jedi Order.” Master Yoda’s voice had you flinching out of your thoughts, mouth falling open to protest the sentence only to snap back shut again.

Did you care enough to fight the punishment?

What would you do?

You didn’t argue, didn’t say a word. Some of the Jedi looked sympathetic as you bowed your head before turning from the room, leaving silently.

You made your way through the Temple, no real destination in mind as you stared ahead. You felt more than realised you were outside when the fresh air hit your face, it was dark out now, you’d been standing before the Council for hours.

What would you do?

You didn’t know. You let your feet carry you, not sure where you were heading but knowing you had to get away from the Temple.

You couldn’t say how long you’d been walking aimlessly for, only that at some point the rain had come flooding down and your feet ached.

Eventually you came to a stop, not even really realising you had for a moment until you blinked back to reality and felt a choked sob escape you at the sight before you, surprised you hadn’t ended up here earlier. You couldn’t blame yourself though, your thoughts weren’t there clearest right now.

Apparently seeing a familiar sight was enough to send you over the edge, bringing the floodgates down and sending tears down your face. You let yourself stand there, letting your tears mix with the rain still falling heavily from the dark clouds above, just staring at the Marauder and feeling a sense of relief, a sense of finally being home.

Eventually you forced your fist to knock at the door.

Crosshair frowned at the sound of a knock, barely audible over the sound of the rain coming down. The others were asleep by now, readying themselves for an early start on yet another mission.

He waited a moment but curiosity got the better of him and he forced himself up. When the door opened his heart ached at the sight of you, soaked through your clothes and silent sobs wracking your body.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You choked out before Crosshair had the chance to ask what had happened.

He didn’t waste any time stepping out into the rain and wrapping his arm around you, pulling you into the warmth and safety of the Marauder. More sobs escaped you as you entered, being encompassed by the only home you had left.

“I’ll be back, wait there darling.” Crosshair instructed as he sat you down and you could only nod, watching as he busied himself with making a hot pot of caff before leaving the room.

Crosshair made his way over to Tech’s things, you were more his size than Crosshair’s but he did stop to grab his own blanket before making his way back to you, snatching a towel from Hunter’s things as he passed.

“Let’s get you dry.” He murmured, kneeling down next to you and helping you out of your soaked clothes.

Any other time he would have savoured the feeling of peeling your clothes off but now he was only methodical, trying them to the side and drying your body with the towel before he helped you into Tech’s blacks and wrapped the blanket around you.

Crosshair stood up, ready to make you a hot cup of caff when he was stopped by your hand gripping his. He looked down at you, hating the lost look on your face.

“What happened?” Crosshair asked, his voice low as he knelt back down in between your knees, taking your other hand in his and looking into your eyes. The question of who did he have to hurt was heard clearly, even if it wasn’t said out loud.

“They kicked me out of the Order.” You told him quietly, playing with his long fingers as you spoke. “It doesn’t matter, I’m not even upset about it.”

Crosshair gave you a doubtful look and you couldn’t help but laugh, though it sounded more like a sob.

“I know it doesn’t look that way but…the Order, it’s all I’ve ever known. I don’t know what I am without it. That’s the scary part. I don’t know where I belong.” You confessed, looking away from Crosshair and down at your joined hands.

“With me.” Crosshair said before he could stop himself but even when the words registered he didn’t take them back. “You belong here. You belong with me.”

///

Crosshair Taglist /

@ughhhhfoff , @bobaprint, @starstruckfluff,

#crosshair #the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch crosshair #clone wars x reader #star wars #clone wars #crosshair x reader #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #bad batch crosshair x reader #tbb x reader #tbb #tbb imagine #tbb imagines #crosshair imagine #crosshair imagines

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eight-littlenightmares · 3 months ago

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hey, something i feel like is an under-utilized thing in whump writing:

ocd.

i have ocd, and trust me this shit turns you into a real life whumpee.

i just feel like this could be used so many ways. (i think at the end of this post i’ll add list of ideas.)

if you have ocd, use that experience to torture your characters!! it’s so therapeutic actually.

and if you don’t have ocd, you could do some research!! ask a friend or someone on the internet with ocd!! (if they are comfortable being asked) read some ocd posts, and et cetera!!

here are the ocd whump ideas/prompts: (trigger warning btw)

whumper exposing whumpee to their triggers

whumpee eliminating whumpee’s ability to do their compulsions

vegetarian whumpee (one who is vegetarian specifically because of their ocd) only allowed to eat meat

whumper worsening their anxieties by telling them that they’re true

ocd tends to get worse under stress, so whumpee’s ocd would likely grow more and more horrible during their captivity

self-harm based compulsions

whumpee needing to do a compulsion but terrified to disturb/annoy whumper, so they just sit there in rising anxiety, forced to decide between enduring the stress or risking angering whumper

whumper laughing at whumpee’s stress and calling them dramatic/sensitive/irrational

after rescue, whumpee having developed new compulsions from their captivity. could lead to them needing to ask permission from caretaker before eating/using the bathroom, or apologizing frequently, or et cetera.

you don’t even need a whumper. whumpee could just be someone with really bad ocd that functions as their whumper, and caretaker is trying to take care of them and help them recover

anyways, yea, those were my thoughts. if anybody does anything with this definitely let me know, i’d love to see!!

#author #writers on tumblr #writing #writeblr #ocd whump #whump ideas #whump community #whump tropes #whump writing #whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #whumpblr #whumpee #whumplr #whump idea #ocd whumpee #Neurodivergent whumpee #neurodivergent author

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twirlymarimo · 3 months ago

Note

since you've read a lot of zs fics, could you recommend some? like specifically ones that you think are underrated 👀

hi! this ask is so exciting to me, thanks for sending! i’m fairly new to the zs fandom but been reading fics for about 8-9 months straight so yes haha you could say i’ve read a lot 😆

to preface my recos, i like zsz so i dont mind anything 💚💛

anyway, here’s my list of underrated fics (underrated for me is like under 500 kudos and please mind the tags on some of them):

1. him by lostmathmajor - one of my first parenting au fics and i think about this fic from time to time. it's incomplete sadly but i'll wait for the author to update forever! what i love about it is how you feel zoro's desperation and pining for sanji through his actions and it extends to sanji's daughter. ugh you just have to read it.

2. at last, i see the light by anxietyismymoralcompass - tangled au! this was such a good adaptation of my fave disney princess movie <3

3. never grow a wishbone by peacesigndisasterbi - set post laughtale where sanji and zoro reaches their goal. i loved the angst and yearning in this plus the fantasy plot was so good too!

4. a sip of sunlight by greenyogurtelephant - such a cute little oneshot. very summer-y, i read it recently when i was in the mood for something bright. i imagined like an italian countryside or some wine country areas in northern california.

5. stuck in your throat by fruityumbrella - val writes one of the best dialogues ugghhhh read everything they write!!!

6. let's go to bed by fantasmagorial - so soft and fluffy....very comforting. i read this when i was having trouble sleeping lmao

7. i got this feeling by harubo - i know, this author is very popular in the fandom but this one fic of theirs is not as popular i think. i really loved it cause i have a pet as well and used to run an IG page for him so i related hahah

8. tin lover by riotoftime & aevv - ongoing, im kinda shy to add this but i am hooked....the writing style and dialogue are so good and distinct because each character is developed/written by different authors!

i unfortunately don't have an ao3 account so i've lost most of the fics i've read but i've learned to keep track now! if anybody has any underrated fic recs as well, feel free to add!

#i tried to include ones that dont get talked about often on here or twt #i really tried hard not to include the usuals #but i generally gravitate towards really long fics those ones tend to stick with me more #special mentions to my fave authors hazel_athena charlienozaki balderdashfromafool #asks #philateli #zosan #fic rec

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oddeyes588 · 7 months ago

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So, it's not like I've posted ANYTHING regarding this, but add Oshi no Ko to the list of things I'm obsessed with. Surprise surprise, and now I have to ramble about SOMETHING in it. ANYTHING.

So I'm gonna ramble about something that came up with friends in discord.

Anybody ever think about how much more immensely tragic Gorou's death is when you think about how it must have seemed from Ai's perspective?

OnK speeds through this part of the story pretty quickly, shooting from 20 weeks to 40 weeks into Ai's pregnancy while only showing us a glimpse of what happens during this period, such as seeing Ai being accompanied by Gorou when she goes on a walk, with an inner monologue from Gorou about how he's promised to make sure her kids are delivered safely.

As such, we don't really have much insight into what their relationship or dynamic was like, but it's clear that at the very least, they got along well. Ultimately, the story isn't about this part of her life, and whatever happens here she ultimately moves past along with her kids. HOWEVER! We can reasonably assume that they had a friendly relationship, because...

Ai very specifically wanted him to be there. Ai Hoshino, a 16-year-old girl pregnant with twins, who has been failed by the majority of the adults in her life... goes "pout pout, it has to be you!" when he mentions that other doctors will be available if he isn't.

She implicitly asks him, the doctor who's sworn to make sure she has a healthy delivery and has been with her every step of the way since she got here, to be there. Remember, Ai is 16 here. She's all smiles, but as we know, she was just as much of a human being as everyone else. She is 16 and pregnant with TWINS. It's going to be the equivalent of pushing a watermelon through a bagel, TWICE. There's no way that she wasn't nervous underneath her perfectly-practiced smile.

The show makes a gag about Gorou going silent when asked what he would do if Ai asked him to date her, but let's be clear here, Gorou was by all means a very responsible and compassionate adult. He was obsessed with idols, specifically Ai, but he treats her with respect and remains professional about the whole thing, and we can be sure that he would've kept her secret. No matter what gags are made because of his idol obsession and the time he spent with Sarina, I think we can comfortably say that when push comes to shove, Gorou Amemiya tries to do the right thing at the end of the day.

Essentially, what I'm trying to say is... in this moment, Gorou was a trusted adult, someone who Ai felt comfortable around and therefore wanted to have there during this moment of immense stress.

...so imagine how it must have felt then, when she went into labor. OnK is pretty tasteful concerning what parts of that process is shown, giving us just a brief shot of her screaming her lungs out while surrounded by nurses... but think about it.

The person she implicitly wanted there at that moment to ensure she gives birth safely... left and never came back.

Just another person added to the pile of adults who abandoned her when she needed them, right? The fact that Ruby and Aqua were born safely must have been the only relief she had that night... but Gorou's body wasn't discovered at that time. By all means, he had just left the hospital and went missing without a word, and that's where the tragedy gets even worse.

Because the only reason Gorou wasn't there, was because he was dying. He chased after a person who was stalking Ai, someone who put her family in danger, and was killed. And what were his dying thoughts?

That he needs to get back. That he made a promise. That he has to make sure her kids are born safely.

Ultimately she moves past this. Her kids are born safely, and in the end it's not like adults failing her has been uncommon throughout her life. But god, it's hard not to think about how she must've felt in that moment, going through the agony and terror of literal childbirth, waiting and waiting for this one adult who promised to support her, for hours and hours... and he just never shows up.

Though I guess in one sense, he does show up... just not in a way anybody could've expected.

#hi im obsessed wish oshi no ko now can you tell?#i blame my friend on discord for filling my brain with their own ai hoshino brainrot #i already enjoyed oshi no ko but now im hyperfixated god help me #oshi no ko #ai hoshino #gorou amamiya #rambles #brainrot #listen you followed me you signed up for this

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itstheval · 8 days ago

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Memory of Visitation

A @livesworthlivingau Side Story

"Oh Stars, I remember this town! This place sucked!"

Siffrin said it with a laugh as they entered Wolworth, but everyone else simply glanced strangely at him. The realization hit them at the same time it did Mira, from the look on their faces. "Time travel s-" "NO SPOILERS!"

Mira half-pulled her rapier, but the look on her face was one of jest that kept a smile on Siffrin's face, even as they raised their hands up defensively. "Okay, okay! I just…There were a lot of memories wrapped up in this town. So, uh…" His eyes flickered around to the others, looking for help, and getting only amusement at his plight.

"Hmf. I believe, I will go take a walk. To explore. Bonnie, would you come with me? You have the shopping list." "Aw, Crab, I wanted to hear!" Mirabelle harumphed her way away, frills spinning as she twirled on a heel and walked into town, leaving Siffrin staring helplessly as Bonnie rushed to catch up with her, hat bouncing with every rushed step. Vale's laugh broke the tension, and Siffrin turned back to look at them. "Oh well DONE, Stardust! We can really see the skills it took you thirty years to hone!"

The flush darkening their cheeks was matched only by their urge to snap back, and they managed to find their voice. "Don't laugh too hard, Vale, not until you find out WHAT happened here. Besides, I might make sure it happens to you…"

"We got here…I want to say a few months, after the King? We'd met you, Nille, but there was a lot you didn't know. I hadn't even opened up to everyone yet…I'd say I'm sorry, but you know. Wrong people to apologize to. But you, Odile! You're always too clever, and you'd noticed, by now."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Odile managed, smiling wryly. She recognized an Old Man Ramble by now, but Siffrin's stories were always worth the listen.

"Noticed what, precisely?" Vale's question was colder, but from the look on their face, the queasiness in their expression, they already knew.

"Well…Back then. Before I knew any better. And I want to make it real clear, I know better now! But back then, I would…Punish myself. With my dagger. For things that…hadn't happened, to any of you? And I'd hide it with my Craft, which…I learned way more about the limits of Healing Craft than I should have."

Siffrin didn't bother looking at everyone's faces. He knew what they looked like. He'd seen them before, and they broke his heart the first time, when it was Odile revealing this. Even so much later, thinking about those expressions hurt.

What he wasn't expecting was the sudden enfolding of arms around him. Isabeau's warm body against his, enfolding him, and a moment later Odile's hand on his head, patting it gently. Even Nille joined in on the hug, and a glance up showed Vale nearby, looking in. This was…different? This was nice. Until, on some unspoken signal, everyone stepped away.

"I'm sorry Sif, just…the look on your face. I don't think anybody could see that and NOT want to give you a hug! We know it's alright, but the way you looked…"

"Like a crab just pinched your puppy." Nille confirmed.

"Yeah, or like…I dunno, like someone ate your favorite treat you were saving for later!"

In that moment, he was loved. In all moments, he was loved, but it was nice to see it so clearly, and the smile Siffrin let onto his face was genuine. "Thanks…I don't like thinking about this stuff. But, no bottling myself up, not to my family! That's what I promised."

"Promised who, precisely?" Odile's voice was wry, in the way that came when she was trying to not show affection.

"Well I was getting to that! Before everyone decided it was group hug time! Anyway! Odile noticed, and she…told everyone, when we were here. I'm not ashamed to say, I ran off. I was stupid…I thought none of you would care about me if you knew how much I hated myself."

"You're absolutely right, Stardust." Vale finally decided to add their two cents, and everyone's heads snapped towards them, making them glad that looks couldn't kill - they'd be dead four times over, at least! It was Odile who found her voice first.

"Explain?"

"He WAS stupid!"

Vale's laugh cut the tension that their statement made, and Siffrin was the first to join into it, before everyone else allowed themselves to be part of it.

"Right! Right, where was I…Running away. Right. Well, Odile was too smart again." A glance to her showed a smirk that showed she agreed. "I ran and hid in the House…and her letter had gotten there first. And when people showed up expecting me, and bringing me to an appointment? I wasn't going to tell them they had the wrong person. Whoever's appointment it was, I could hide there until you all forgot! And that's how I met my therapist."

The sharp bark of laughter from Odile showed just what she thought of that, but Isabeau was quick to follow, as Nille shook her head in exasperation. "That actually worked?" She said, around a smile, and Vale nodded with mock seriousness. "It would have worked on me. Smart."

Siffrin decided then to start walking and talking, as he explained the rest of it. "Doctor Jinn was…strange. Even for Vaugarde. It/its pronouns, with lightless hair with darkless spots in it, like the stars. I'd have almost thought it was from home, except that everyone I've seen from there had darkless hair…and Doctor Jinn was a housemaiden. Or…I mean, it was working in the house, and it wore a change symbol on a necklace? And one of them for a bonding earring? Anyway, it had its own office set up, and was ready for me and everything. It wasn't until it addressed me by my name that I realized what happened. But Odile, why did you tell it my name was 'Siffrin Nomiddlename Nolastname'?"

"I couldn't begin to imagine." Odile allowed, walking the crowded streets, Isabeau pushing ahead and the others walking in the wake of the broad man like wakesurfers…Siffrin briefly wondered where he'd heard that term, then remembered they were telling a story.

"Well, that's what it called me. Like that, like 'Nomiddlename' and 'Nolastname' were names themselves. It was a great listener, I'll tell you that…It seemed to accept the Wish Craft stuff pretty easily, and didn't blame me for…" a light cough. "Any of it." Siffrin glanced to the side, and when the others followed their glance, they saw Bonnie at a stall, haggling with a zit-faced teen about the price of tomatoes.

"The interesting thing was…Well, when we got there, we were sort of wandering wherever we felt like, just seeing the world? And it turned out that Jinn was traveling anyway, so we wound up joining it…or it joined us, but we just wound up going where it led. It was convenient, and it meant I couldn't get away from it, either. So…we wound up talking a lot. Almost the whole time we were in Wolworth, and even on the roads." Sif took a turn, but kept up his memories. "About the Loops, about what I could and couldn't remember, about…well, everything, really. How I felt about Isa, how I felt about touch, home, why the Universe granted wishes like it did - it really didn't have much to say there, but it was great to just get it out of my system."

Vale was starting to look uneasy as they walked along, and Siffrin knew it was now or never, time to strike and hope everyone else was on board. "It was so useful, in fact, that I felt like visiting again. I sent a letter ahead myself this time, since…well, you didn't have a reason to, Madame. And don't worry, Vale, I told them all about you!"

Siffrin's grin was shameless, and watching the look on Vale's face was worth the entire time, as they realized how close they were to the opened doors of the House. And how Isabeau was blocking them off to the side…Vale couldn't escape that way, maybe…no, Nille was over there. Maybe through the Madame? With that look on her face, no way. That was the Path of Pain.

Vale's shoulders slumped, as Siffrin stepped aside and gave a sweeping bow. "After you, my friend!" Vale muttered oaths under their breath as they marched to the doors, only to find a Housemaiden waiting for them.

"Siffrin and Vale Nomiddlename Nolastname? I'm Housemaiden David…I got your letter, but I'm afraid no one here's ever heard of a 'Doctor Jinn'. Would you like to come in anyway?"

#isat fanfic #behind the vale #btvau #lwlau #lives worth living au #lwl vale #isat au #lwl nille #isat #lwl isabeau #lwl siffrin #lwl mirabelle #lwl jinn #isat spoilers #in stars and time

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scary-grace · 5 months ago

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Expiation (Chapter 2) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter 2

You accompany Sir Tomura to the feast in his honor, drawing as many stares as he does, and you wonder if that wasn’t his purpose all along. But the stares for you contain worry, or pity, as if they fear you’ve been coerced to his side, while the stares he receives are the same stares as always. Disgust from some. Hatred from others. And always, always terror.

At the doorway to the great hall, Sir Tomura adds another offense to his long list of crimes against propriety. As the herald, a bard with a gift for language and music and mostly volume, announces Sir Tomura and guest, Sir Tomura reaches out and takes your hand.

Lords offer ladies their arms, always – or lords their arms, if they prefer men, and ladies who prefer women offer their ladies their arms in turn. Holding hands is intimate, done at betrothals and weddings and thereafter in the privacy of one’s own chambers. It’s never done in public. Your face goes up in flames, and the assembled nobles gasp, but Sir Tomura steps forward without flinching. There’s nothing for you to do but stumble after him.

No one expected him to bring a guest, so a chair and a place setting must be hastily assembled for you, and you settle in at Sir Tomura’s side at the high table, amidst the king and his councilors and their consorts, none of whom were planning to share their evening with a servant. King Izuku, to his credit, makes the valiant first effort at including you, although he does it by way of Sir Tomura. “Will you introduce us to your companion?”

Sir Tomura shrugs. “I would if I knew her name.”

You realize you’ve never spoken it to him. Likely no one else has shared it, either, because he speaks to no one else, and you failed to introduce yourself when you arrived at his chambers. Sir Katsuki scoffs. “You’re unfamiliar with the ways of chivalry. Among civilized men we learn the names of servants before we bed them.”

“Civilized people. There are women among us,” Lord Tenya corrects at once. “And not all of us bed servants.”

You’ve heard that. Lord Tenya is said to be stiff-necked and a little boring, but he holds the values of chivalry and courtly love in high esteem, in spite of the fact that you’ve never seen him court anybody. “Let him talk,” Sir Tomura says. He lifts his wineglass, inspects it, and takes a sip. You cringe at the breach in manners – no one is supposed to eat or drink before the king does. “If he wishes to make a fool of himself by raising his bedroom habits at dinner, that’s his affair. I had thought we were among civilized people. Am I incorrect?”

Sir Katsuki makes a scathing sound. You see King Izuku’s eyes widen, and from her seat at the king’s side, Sir Ochako speaks up. To you. “What is your name, and whose lands do you hail from?”

You share your name, stammering slightly. “I hail from the borderlands, my Lady. I am not sure who rules over them.”

An awkward silence falls. “No one rules them,” Sir Tomura says. He takes another sip of wine, and across the table, the king hurriedly does the same, releasing everyone else from their obligation to abstain. “They belong to warlords – the Hassaikai clan, if I’m not mistaken. How long ago did you cede your kingdom’s borders?”

King Izuku chokes on a second sip of wine. Lord Tenya glares at Sir Tomura. “It’s impolite to discuss council business at mealtime.”

“Then what do you discuss, if not anything that matters?”

You’re still holding Sir Tomura’s hand, because he hasn’t let go of yours, and you tighten your grip on instinct, the same way you’d squeeze the hand of a friend who was speaking out of turn. Sir Tomura startles, and Lord Shoto, who has yet to speak, breaks the silence. “Is that why you left?” he asks you. “Because of the warlords?”

Lord Tenya sputters that this isn’t appropriate conversation, either, but it occurs to you that this is an opportunity you’ll never have again. You always assumed that the rulers of the High Kingdom made decisions purely on what was good and just, that if they truly abandoned the borderlands, it was done for a purpose, but now you aren’t so sure. “Yes, my Lord,” you say. “The young head of the Hassaikai clan imprisons those with magic to use in his alchemic experiments. I fled so I would not meet such a fate.”

The king and his councilors exchange startled glances. “You are mistaken,” the king’s spymaster says. You shiver; until Sir Tomura arrived, Aizawa was the most feared man in the castle. “Alchemy is forbidden in the High Kingdom.”

“The borderlands aren’t in the High Kingdom,” Sir Tomura points out. He still hasn’t released your hand. “The lot of you made sure of that.”

The silence that falls is agonizing in its awkwardness. The king’s herald, finished announcing the guests at last, slips into his seat at the spymaster’s side and into his unofficial role as court jester. “You all forget yourselves. The maid’s the only one here using her manners! Shame on you, my lords and ladies – what a terrible welcome you’ve provided to the savior of the High Kingdom.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Neither can Sir Tomura. “I’m a bard, first and foremost,” the herald continues, “and you’ve put me in a bind, your Lordship the White Death, sir. How am I supposed to sing of your heroic deeds when no one has told me the tale?”

Sir Tomura looks irritated. “What heroic deeds do you think I’ve committed?”

“You cast the Enemy’s severed head down at the king’s feet,” the herald says. “I’m assuming it didn’t just fall off.”

You snicker before you can stop yourself, then clamp your hands over your mouth in horror, pulling free of Sir Tomura’s hand in the bargain. But the herald winks at you. “Not only does she mind her manners, she has a sense of humor,” he proclaims. “Congratulations, Sir Tomura. You have excellent taste in guests.”

Sir Tomura ignores him, choosing instead to drink more wine, but you’re able to observe that the mood at the king’s table has lightened somewhat. You remember, suddenly, that the king’s herald and his spymaster were both born commoners, just like you. It makes you feel ever so slightly more comfortable at Sir Tomura’s side. You aren’t the first commoner the knights and nobles of the High Kingdom have encountered – and if the herald is anything to go by, you’re far from the most impertinent.

The food at the feast is fantastic. You’ve heard that one of the cooks in the kitchen has magic, and you can almost taste it. You eat sparingly, hoping against hope that you won’t be ruined for ordinary fare from now on. Beside you, Sir Tomura ignores his plate. Although you’re his companion for the evening, you’re still a maid, and you’re meant to serve. “Is the food not to your liking, my Lord?”

“I have no appetite.”

He’s too thin. You noticed it when you caught him changing his shirt – his muscles lie too close to the skin, his collarbones and ribs too prominent. Does he intend to starve? “Your cutlery is unused. Perhaps if you try it –”

“I’m not a child,” Sir Tomura interrupts. “Be silent.”

The sharpness of the command startles you, but you don’t let it show. Sir Tomura is acting as a noble should, and you should encourage it. You return your attention to your own plate. A few moments later, there’s a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision, followed by the scrape of a knife and fork against Sir Tomura’s plate. You don’t comment, but you don’t hide your smile, either.

There’s music and dancing, as there always is at a feast, and every lord and knight seeks a dance with someone. No one asks Sir Tomura. Someone asks you, though – King Izuku, and you nearly pass out from sheer shock. Even then, you know your manners. You turn to Sir Tomura for permission. “May I dance with the king, my Lord?”

“I don’t own you.” Sir Tomura doesn’t look up from his now partially-empty plate.

You accept the king’s offer, and King Izuku leads you onto the dance floor, he in his finery, you in a maid’s uniform. You put on a clean one before you joined Sir Tomura again. As poor and plain as it is, it’s the finest thing you own. The dance is simple, and old – so old that the borderlands were more than nominally part of the kingdom when it was first popularized. The steps come easily to you, which is a good thing, because King Izuku doesn’t just want to dance. He wants to talk.

“Is it true?” he asks, just under the musicians’ melodies. “What Sir Tomura said of the borderlands?”

You nod. King Izuku’s face, normally open and ready to rejoice at the slightest provocation, falls. It’s a long fall, and something about it bothers you. “I asked my spymaster, and he said you arrived here when you were thirteen,” he says. You nod again. “Why so young?”

“So old, your Majesty,” you say. He blinks. “My father and mother concealed my magic. When it was revealed, my family and the others who had helped me conceal it fled. Only I passed through the Forest Perilous unharmed.”

King Izuku looks even unhappier than before. “Are there others from the borderlands in the castle?” he asks, and once more, you nod. “I would speak to them. If the information you and Sir Tomura have provided is true, then we must intervene. This has gone on for far too long.”

You know what Sir Tomura would say to that, even having spent less than a day in his company: It has gone on because the High Kingdom has allowed it to go on. You keep your silence, keep your head bowed, and King Izuku speaks again as he guides you through a slow spin. “As for the matter of Sir Tomura,” he says, and your shoulders stiffen, “I was surprised to see him attend the feast at all, let alone with a companion. As you may know, we have had – there has been some difficulty in, er, making him feel welcome.”

He doesn’t feel welcome because he isn’t welcome, and he and everyone else knows it. You keep your silence, and King Izuku continues, more uncertainly than you’ve ever heard him speak. Then again, he’s never spoken to you before today. “If you were willing –” King Izuku starts, then cringes. “I don’t know the, er, the nature of your contact with him today –”

“My virtue is intact.”

“Oh. Good.” The king is so red in the face that steam might as well be pouring from his ears. “In that case, perhaps it’s not appropriate to ask this of you.”

As if your virtue matters to anyone but yourself. “Yes, your Majesty?”

“Sir Tomura will need someone to attend him on a more permanent basis. Ordinarily this would be a squire – failing that, a manservant,” King Izuku says. “But many have refused the role, and of those who have not done so immediately, he seems to hold less hatred for you than the rest. It is not usual, but if you were willing to take on the task –”

He’s looking at you hopefully, as though you might fill in the answer for him, let him completely off the hook. You won’t. “Yes, your Majesty?”

“The kingdom would be grateful if you continued to serve Sir Tomura,” King Izuku says. “There is honor in serving a knight.”

You remember what Sir Tomura said to you this afternoon: It is no honor to be on your knees at my feet. You know, too, what King Izuku is doing – offering you as a sacrifice to Sir Tomura, in the hopes that the White Death will be satisfied with you and cease to trouble everyone else. “Is this an order, your Majesty?”

King Izuku looks desperately uncomfortable. The two of you have frozen in the middle of the dance floor, as a new song starts and everyone else pivots around you. You wait for him to say it, to sweep the problem of the White Death away under your skirt. You’re an acceptable sacrifice. Just like the borderlands you grew up in were, for the sake of peace in the kingdom. “I don’t wish for it to be an order,” the king says. “But –”

“I will attend him.” You make the decision quickly, both to preserve the illusion that you had a choice and to avoid any risk that Sir Tomura will hear that you were forced to keep company with him on a regular basis. “It would be my honor.”

“Oh,” King Izuku says, relieved. “Good.”

He leads you off the dance floor, the other dancers moving seamlessly out of his path, and delivers you back to the high table where Sir Tomura sits alone. Everyone else seems to have evacuated the premises. “I have good news,” King Izuku says to Sir Tomura, who’s staring at nothing, again. “Your companion for the evening has agreed to attend you for the entirety of your stay in the kingdom.”

Sir Tomura looks up, surprised. Then his face hardens. “Did she agree, or did you compel her?”

“She agreed,” King Izuku says at once. “She said it would be her honor.”

To King Izuku’s eyes, Sir Tomura’s expression doesn’t change. You can tell by how quickly he makes his excuses, abandoning the high table just like the rest. But you perceive the shift, that same flash of interest you’ve seen a few times now. “Sit down,” he says, and you do. “It would be your honor?”

“Yes, my Lord.” You suppose there’s honor in completing a task that no one else dares to – and more than that, honor in serving the man who spared the kingdom, regardless of the means by which he spared it. “It is not usual. If you would prefer a male servant –”

“If I must have a servant, I prefer one who is not so obviously repulsed by me.” Sir Tomura drains his glass of wine. “If that is you, so be it.”

“It’s me,” you say. Sir Tomura takes your glass of wine, which you’ve barely touched, and drains it, too. “My Lord?”

“I’m tired of this,” he says abruptly. “Show me the way back to my room.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Sir Tomura stays upright for most of the walk to his room, but when the alcohol strikes him at last, it strikes hard. You’re not unused to escorting drunken nobles back to their rooms and helping them prepare for bed, always poised to flee if the nobles in question decide they require company for the night. Sir Tomura, unlike the other nobles, has no nightclothes to change into and no paint or ornaments to remove from his skin and hair. He strips off his shirt so quickly that it tears, pulls off his boots, and falls onto the bed in his breeches and nothing else.

He recoils upright instantly. You see the scarcely healed skin over the cursed wound on his chest strain, nearly crack. “What are these?”

“The bedclothes?” you ask, puzzled. “I put them on earlier. You watched me.”

He runs his hand over them, disconcerted. “This isn’t wool.”

“It’s silk,” you say. “It’s meant to feel that way.”

The High Kingdom’s weavers produce more than tapestries. Typically when a new noble arrives, a fresh set of sheets is woven for them, but no one took such pains for the White Death, so you scavenged scraps of unused silk and pieced them by hand with your small magic, adding more and more until you had a full set of sheets for Sir Tomura’s bed. You meant to make a canopy, too, but then Hakamada caught you and chased you out. Sir Tomura considers the sheets as one might regard a snake about to strike before warily folding back the covers.

He recoils again when his head hits the pillow. You’ve never seen someone look so ill at ease with even this pale shadow of luxury in all your life.

He’s ill at ease, but tired, too. You can see it. “Is there anything else you require, my Lord?”

“No.”

“Then I will return at dawn,” you say, and curtsy. “Sleep well, my Lord.”

He doesn’t answer. When you look back again, he’s staring up at the ceiling, eyes open but blank. You need to find a canopy tomorrow. A canopy, and a pane of glass for the window, and more than one set of clothing – and doubtless dozens of other things you won’t think of until their absence makes itself conspicuously known. There’s much for you to do in order to ensure that your Lord is treated just as well as the others in the High Kingdom, who have done far fewer terrible deeds but not nearly as much good as the White Death did when he slew the Enemy and spared the world.

You lift Sir Tomura’s shirt from the end of the bed, noting the tear at the shoulder. Your magic is good for this much, at least. You run your finger along one edge of the tear and draw the fabric back together, doing everything to match the color of the join to the rest of the shirt. You’re unsuccessful, as usual. Still, it’s likely that Sir Tomura’s hair will hide the mark the next time he wears the shirt, and even if it doesn’t, silver isn’t the worst color one could choose.

You lay the shirt out on the end of the bed and fold it neatly. Then you turn to go, leaving your Lord to sleep his first night in a room that’s not quite so empty as before.

You return to Sir Tomura’s room bright and early, only to discover that he’s barely slept and in the full throes of a hangover. His terrible mood is the closest you’ve seen him get to the rage he’s famous for, but you’ve heard and seen Sir Katsuki do and say far worse. “What is it?” your Lord snaps at you, after you’ve brought him a cup of water and he’s taken a few sips. “What do they want now?”

“The king has called an emergency meeting of his council.”

“So?”

“My Lord, you sit on the king’s council,” you remind him. The exasperation that descends over Sir Tomura’s features could almost make you laugh. “I believe it concerns the borderlands.”

Sir Tomura rubs his eyes, and you notice the scar that runs over his right eye for the first time. For a moment, you think he’ll heed the summons. Then he lies back down. “No.”

“My Lord, the king takes his council meeting very seriously,” you caution. “If you don’t appear, Sir Ejiro will be sent to retrieve you.”

“To retrieve me?”

“I once saw him throw Sir Katsuki over his shoulder and carry him to the council chambers by force.” You watch as Sir Tomura’s eyes widen. “I imagine my Lord would like to avoid that.”

“If King Izuku imagines that any of his minions could retrieve me to somewhere I don’t wish to be, he’s lost his mind.” Sir Tomura eases his way to a seated position, grimacing the entire way. “When is it?”

“On the hour.” You add a timepiece to your mental list of items you need to procure for Sir Tomura’s room. “With your permission, my Lord, I’ll bring something for you to eat.”

“And another shirt,” Sir Tomura says. “This one is –”

He trails off as he picks up last night’s shirt off the end of the bed. “I mended it,” you say. “I’ll return shortly.”

You curtsy, then duck out of the room, hurrying to the kitchens. They’re busy when you arrive, courtesy of the maids and squires of the nobles who, like Sir Tomura, indulged enough at the feast last night to sleep through breakfast. You survey the choices available, dismayed. You should have paid more attention to what Sir Tomura ate last night, rather than simply being pleased that he ate at all.

News of your new assignment has already spread to your fellow servants. “I heard the White Death asked for you specifically,” Lord Denki’s squire Minoru says. “Is that true?”

“Of course not,” Lady Tsuyu’s maid Setsuna says. “It was the king who asked, wasn’t it?”

“The king asked?” Neito, who squires for anyone who’s yet to choose a squire of their own, is aghast. “What on earth did you do?”

“Nothing,” you say. “What I was asked. Nothing more.”

“You said it was an honor,” Lord Shoto’s squire says. You glare at him, and Hanta lifts his hands in supplication. “How could you say anything else with the White Death breathing down your neck?”

“He wasn’t there,” you say. No one is listening to you. Your fellows want to know what it was like to dance with the king, or else they want to know how you managed not to faint or vomit from the sheer horror of holding Shigaraki Tomura’s hand. Once the conversation shifts into speculation, it no longer needs you. You gather a few food items at random and hurry back to the deserted wing, hoping Sir Tomura will have put on a shirt and sobered up by the time you arrive.

He has, just enough. He doesn’t know where the council meets, so you escort him, walking a few steps ahead while he chokes down his breakfast. At the council chambers, he steps through the door without a word to you, and you’re on your way before it swings shut behind him. You don’t know how long the council meeting will run – given the issue rumored to be at hand, it could run for some time – and you need to accomplish as much as possible before Sir Tomura returns.

New clothes will take the longest. You catch up to Hakamada as he returns from breakfast for a short conversation, one which neither of you enjoy very much. He insists that he cannot make anything for Sir Tomura until Sir Tomura selects colors and a coat of arms, and you insist that Sir Tomura needs clothing first and foremost. The person who wanders into the midst of the conversation silences you both at once.

Hakamada bows low at the waist, while you drop to your knees, forehead to the flagstones. “Your Grace.”

“Please rise,” the old king, Toshinori, says. Hakamada straightens; you risk a glance upwards. “I heard raised voices. What was under discussion?”

“New clothes for the White Death –”

“For Sir Tomura,” you correct.

“Which cannot be made until he chooses colors and a coat of arms!”

“Is that all?” the former king asks. Hakamada nods. “There are many existing coats of arms, and many colors to go with them, that are no longer bound to a lineage. We three shall choose one for Sir Tomura.”

You feel as though you shouldn’t be part of such an important decision, but you’re certain that Sir Tomura won’t care one way or the other. You follow the former king’s command to rise, and follow he and the tailor to the castle library. Hakamada is much more comfortable in the king’s presence than you are. Comfortable enough to speak. “Your Grace, should you not be at the council meeting?”

“The decisions to be made belong to young Izuku and his council, not to me.” The old king lifts a heavy book down from a high shelf, his arms shaking. “Here. These are the houses which have died out. Today we shall bring one back to life.”

Some of the devices and names in the book are easily recognizable, described and mentioned many times in the High Kingdom’s histories. Others are completely unfamiliar to you. The old king turns past page after page, then stops at one. “Shimura,” he says aloud. “Yes. This is the one.”

“Your Grace,” Hakamada says, startled or scandalized. “That name –”

“Is past due to be revived,” the old king says. He turns the book towards you. “Will this suit your lord?”

You study the device sketched in the book. It’s a grey background, ringed in red at the edges, with the blue shadow of a solitary tower at the center. It clearly means something to Hakamada, something he doesn’t approve of, but to your uneducated eyes, there’s nothing particularly offensive about it. And you know that Sir Tomura cares little for such things. You nod, and old king Toshinori smiles.

He was famous for his smile when he ruled, how bright and wide and fearless it was, but now his face is gaunt and angular, his eyes sunken, proof that his temporary victory in the battle against the Enemy did not cost him nothing. Your former kings and queens may have failed, as Sir Tomura said. But as you said in response, they tried, and to your mind, that counts for something.

Hakamada departs at once, mumbling about work to be done; while he would obfuscate and deny you, he would never dream of refusing the old king. The old king turns to you, and you sink into a curtsy. “Rise,” he instructs, and you do. “You have much to do today, do you not?”

“Yes, your Grace. If you will give me leave to go.”

“Where to next?”

You wish you had written out your list rather than trying to hold it in your mind. “A timepiece for my Lord’s room.”

“Ah, yes. Come with me,” the old king says. “I’ll assist you in choosing one.”

You meant to simply look through the room where broken objects are kept, searching for one that you could repair to look like new, but the old king leads you through the palace to the place where – “Fear not,” the old king says hastily. “Mirai is far more than a soothsayer.”

“And hardly that, these days.” The king’s fortuneteller has been reincarnated under many names, but he’s carried the name Nighteye in each life. “I am good for little more than crafting these days. Come inside. I have been expecting you.”

Your stomach lurches. “You have?”

“Of course. The White Death’s rooms are missing many items, and a conscientious servant would naturally seek them out.” Nighteye beckons you inside, and the king steps through the archway into his workshop. You follow him. “Here. This will serve.”

The timepiece he holds out is the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen, let alone touched – all silver and mother-of-pearl and pure white sand in its spun-glass chambers. You’ve seen larger timepieces when you’ve cleaned other nobles’ rooms, but none like this. “It will turn naturally with the passing of each hour. You will not need to adjust it.” Nighteye gestures for you to take it, and you hesitate. “If it’s my magic you fear, child, you need not do so. It has forsaken me.”

The old king clucks his tongue. “That is untrue.”

“My prophecies have never faltered,” Nighteye snaps at him. “For one to fail so catastrophically –”

“It did not fail,” King Toshinori says mildly. “A mighty kingdom was indeed brought to ruin. We had simply expected it to be ours.”

You had a similar thought. It eases your mind somewhat to hear it echoed by the old king, but you still don’t want to touch Nighteye. You’ve heard too many tales of those who touched him going mad from what they learned, collapsing under the weight of a fate they couldn’t imagine. Whatever your future is, you’d rather it remained a mystery. “Very wise,” Nighteye comments. He hands the timepiece to the old king instead, who does not flinch when their fingers brush. “Although perhaps unnecessary. Whatever purpose brought you to Castle Ultra, it seems you’ve uncovered it.”

You don’t know what he means by that, and you’re more than happy to leave him to his work. You’d like to leave the old king to whatever work occupies his days, but King Toshinori accompanies you from errand to errand, until your arms are full and you can’t carry any more. He looks you up and down, mild concern on his face. “May I assist you?”

“No, your Grace.” You’ve heard rumors of the old king’s fragile health, and seen blood trickling from the corner of his mouth on occasion. “Your Grace?”

“Yes, child?”

“Why – um – Sir Tomura –” You’re embarrassingly incoherent, sounding not at all like someone with a right to ask questions of the old king. “Why would you assist me with him? Everyone else –”

“Everyone else is young,” King Toshinori says softly. “I have no great age, but I was a grown man before King Izuku’s eldest councilors had left their cradles, and I remember well the terrible threat the Enemy posed. I faced him at the height of his powers, believing I would do anything to destroy him. But when the time came, there was one step I refused to take, one boundary I did not cross. Do you know what it was?”

“Dark magic.”

“Indeed,” the old king says. “I weighed the corruption of my own soul against the fate of my kingdom and decided in favor of myself. That is why One For All broke in my hands. It can be wielded only by one who is pure – not of heart, but of purpose, bent on a single goal.”

He smiles sadly. Even his gentlest smiles have the look of a death’s-head grin. “Your young Sir Tomura did what I dared not. Regardless of his reason, he bore the curse that should have befallen one of us. It is unpopular to say, perhaps, but I believe he deserves a warmer welcome than he has been given.”

You feel an unexpected surge of gratitude for the old king. Although you’re certain Sir Tomura will have little patience for it, there’s something reassuring in the knowledge that someone else sees what you see, approaches the matter of Sir Tomura in the same way as you do. You curtsy, as best you can with your arms full, and the old king nods. “Run along, child. I imagine you wish to complete your work before King Izuku’s council meeting concludes.”

Yes, you would. You would like for Sir Tomura to have a habitable space to return to, today. You curtsy again for the king and hurry off to the deserted wing of the palace once more.

When you arrive, the door stands open, and there’s someone inside. You asked her to be here, but you told her not to go in until you got there, on the off chance that Sir Tomura would be back already – and you should have known that Mei wouldn’t listen. She looks up at the sound of your footsteps. “Tell him to bring that breastplate down to the smithy. The damage can be repaired.”

“He doesn’t want it repaired,” you say.

“Then steal it when his back is turned and bring it yourself,” Mei says impatiently. “A knight needs a suit of armor, and an armorer. The name of the White Death’s favored smith will go down in history alongside his own, and my craftsmanship is equal to this task.”

She taps her knuckles against the ruined breastplate, then turns to you. “The fixtures in the bathing chamber are functional. The basin itself will need mending, but you can do that. What else is there?”

“The window,” you say. Mei nods brusquely. “Thank you.”

You set the items you collected down on the end of Sir Tomura’s unmade bed – something else to attend to before he returns – and help Mei replace the windowpane. She uses her magic to size the sheet of glass appropriately, while you use yours to seal the edges to the stone frame, tightly enough to keep out both chill and heat. “The White Death,” Mei muses. “Is he as terrible as the legends describe? They say he utters dark spells as easily as he breathes.”

“I’ve heard him say no spells,” you say. “But I have known him for only a day.”

Only a day. It feels but shorter and longer, somehow – the life you expected to lead yesterday morning has twisted beyond recognition, into a shape you never could have guessed. “He is said to be wrathful, too. I have not seen it.”

“You’ve yet to give him a reason, then,” Mei says. “A man isn’t given an epithet like the White Death unless he’s earned it.”

You suppose that’s true. You disbelieve none of the tales you’ve heard of the atrocities your Lord committed, and you think he’d be more likely to exaggerate them than to play them down if you were to ask. Yet at the same time there’s a hollowness to him, a sense that the rage and disdain are shallow, a sense that whatever animated him before is fading away with nothing to take its place. Sir Tomura is a monster, to be sure. Sir Tomura seems more lost to you than anyone you’ve ever met.

“Still,” Mei says, rapping her knuckles against the window and casting a charm to keep the glass forever clean, “when he’s looking to repair his armor, mention my name. He’ll find no one better.”

Mei wasn’t responsible for reforging One For All, but she crafted the wristguards and reinforced boots King Izuku wears into battle, all of them laced with strengthening spells and protective charms. Her magic is expressive, creative, resistant to her control or anyone else’s. Sir Tomura’s shattered breastplate is the sort of challenge she enjoys. You promise her you’ll direct him her way in the unlikely event that he changes his mind, and she leaves, leaving you to the remainder of your tasks.

Making the bed, hanging the canopy and curtains, clearing the last cobwebs out of the corners of the room, arranging the timepiece and the few decorations you’ve procured. You even saw the weavers about a tapestry, but they looked at you as though you were out of your mind. Sir Tomura has done only one great deed amidst a lifetime of horrors, they reminded you, and the tale of that deed has yet to be told. We cannot depict a story that no one knows.

Tapestries will wait. Today you must fix whatever was done to the basin in the bathing chamber. Mei said your magic was up to the task, but you’re not so sure. The cracks in the basin are narrow but numerous, and you start in an arbitrary spot, running your fingers over each edge and filling the space between them. You try to mend with white, with marble just like the rest of the basin’s, but what flows from the tips of your fingers is gold.

The sight of it startles you. You’ve mended with silver, copper, steel, cloth, stone, and wood before, but never gold. It’s a fluke, or so you think, until the next crack you trace mends golden, too. For a moment you’re transfixed by the sight of it. It’s pretty. Prettier than anything you’ve made has a right to be. Too pretty to stare at for long. You get back to work, wondering how long your magic will let you mend things this way. It’ll certainly go back to normal soon.

It lasts long enough to mend the entire basin, and long enough for you to turn your attention to some of the cosmetic flaws in the floor of the bathing chamber. You’re just putting the finishing touches on a long, spindling crack near the door when someone shouts your name. Shouts it once, and keeps shouting, until you get to your feet and hurry out into Sir Tomura’s chamber proper to investigate. “What is it?”

Itsuka, Lady Momo’s squire, stands in the doorway, out of breath and close to panic. “It’s the White Death,” she says, and your stomach clenches. “Sir Katsuki’s challenged him to a duel.”

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