#like absolutely no recollection of anything I had done

[varpusvaras]

The level of tiredness can be summarised with the fact that I took the last of my adhd meds yesterday morning and just fully forgot that I took the last of them. Like I stared at the empty bottle yesterday morning and I stared into it this morning and went huh.

[al1fers-haven]

I got a request that I think is pure evil

Alastor x Fem!Reader | Angst

Alastor has spent all his time in hell focused on himself and his power, but in the back of his mind, he always was on the lookout for his wife that he had when he was alive.

He tells himself that he hasn't found he because she's in heaven with his momma until she shows up at the hotel, but she has no memory of him (but it is her, Alastor can tell)

So he tries subtly reminding her, but she doesn't quite understand what he's doing.

If she falls in love again or if she does manage to remember is up to you ❤️

I RAISE YOU ON THIS HEADCANNON AND LABEL THE READER AS A FALLEN ANGEL!

"I KNOW YOU"

Alastor x wife!Reader

Prompt: For as long as Alastor has been in hell he didn't look for you. He assumed that you had gone to the pearly gates of heaven with his mother with the way you acted when you were married in your lives. He had tried to forget about it, no longer seeking you but still needing you one way or another. What will he do when you show up at the hotel with no memory of you two ever being married?

After everything Alastor had done in his life, he was sure he deserved hell. The moment he got there he knew that, and there was no way he wanted to redeem himself. In his own eyes, he didn't particularly do anything wrong, he got rid of of those pesky and awful men who thought with the wrong head or were horrible people. And there was nothing wrong with that.

The only regret he had was leaving you and his mother up there all alone to figure out his true hobbies, and while he was hoping he could see you down here in hell. He knew damn well that a sweetheart like you was never going to be in the place for the damned. As his time went on in the pits of hell, the less hope he had for seeing you again. There was no sign of you and thank the gods for that. He couldn't bear to see you in a place like this.

He let out a small hum, blinking a couple times as he was brought back to his current state, looking down at the vegetables he was cutting. His hands shook slightly as he put down the knife and leaned against the counter. That harsh feeling swirled in his chest once again at the thought of you, despite him knowing this was for the absolute best. He couldn't help but grieve your touch. Wanting to hold you one more time in his lifetime.

Maybe that was the purpose of his hell. Having to live without you? "Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" Alastor tilted his head, walking out of the kitchen and retying the back of his apron. His eyes squinted a little bit as Charlie brought you into the lobby, a small hurt smile brought to her face as she explained why she was there. "I- I fell...I know that there's a chance you won't even accept me but I had nowhere else to do!" A sob wracked your frame, your hands covering your face as the pale-skinned woman patted your back. "I heard you were Lucifer's daughter- so I thought maybe you guys would help me...?" Charlie nodded, a loud sigh leaving her as she looked around for someone to look after you for a bit while she grabbed Vaggie. "Alastor! Would you mind looking after her for a moment while I go find my dad and Vaggie?" He nodded, quickly being dragged over to you. His eyes continued to widen as he got closer and closer. "Uhm...Hello!" You waved to the deer man and smiled. His body ridged as he looked at you.

You looked almost the same as you did the day he died. "Y/n..?" You blinked a couple of times, folding your hands in front of you, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, do I know you...?"

He never thought four words could hurt that much, his smile tightening as Charlie left the two of you there. A huff left his lips. "Oh...Uhm. Do you remember me?" You shook your head, brows furrowing in confusion as you took a closer look at him. "No...I'm afraid not. After I died I don't have much recollection of my life...I'm sorry." His shadow formed behind him, a small frown on it's face before it zoomed away to somewhere else. "Oh, it's uhm- fine. My name is Alastor dear! It's a pleasure to see you again!"

Alastors ears pinned to the back of his head as you shook his hand. His body wanted to lean into the warmth you emitted.

~!~

You were sitting down in the lobby, eyes scanning the book in your hands. Reading more about hell and what it was like before going out into the world.

Alastor stared from the bar, ears pinned against his head in a mopey way. "C'mon dude, you're practically undressing her with her eyes," Husk growls a little bit, staring at Alastor with a scowl. "Oh- Forgive me she just...She doesn't remember me." Husk raised a brow. "Remember you? Did you know her?" Alastor nodded, a huff leaving his figure as he took a sip of his Rye. "She was my wife- She was in heaven after I died she just...doesn't remember me." Husk nodded. Huffing and actually feeling a bit bad for the awful man in front of him. "Maybe remind her? Recreate scenarios you two experiences..it works in the movies and books." Alastor's ears perked up as he listened, looking around for any sign of a radio. "That's actually quite smart for you Husker." The cat-man growls a little bit. The radio on the table in front of you started to play the song, the upbeat jazz in the background bringing you small memories of when you'd dance with your friends at the old speakeasies, spending most of your time dancing and singing on stage with the rest of the ladies you worked with. "Hello dear!" Alastor appeared in front of you, a smile on his face like always, a small giggle leaving you at the sight of his dressed-down state. Just wearing a red and black turtleneck and some dress pants. "Care for a dance? My dear?" You nodded, standing up and patting down your dress before he quickly took your hand and spun you around. A loud genuine laugh left you as you danced with the man.

Laughter filled the room, the music in the background blaring as the saxophone filled it. "Oh! Oh my!" You placed a hand against his chest and you two danced. His tail moving behind him as he listened to you enjoy yourself. "Aren't you a smooth dancer!" he laughed a little bit himself, twirling you once again. Charlie watched from afar, a small smile on her face as she stopped angel from talking about the sight. "My dear it's not rocket science to dance, just to learn it!" You couldn't help but hum, the music coming to an end as you tried to keep dancing. Your hands rested on your head, the small headache you had from the dancing getting worse and worse. "Are you alright my dear?" You reached out for youas you sat down, eyes closed due to the pain. "My love?" "It's nothing...just a bit of a headache, don't fret too much over it." You smiled up at him, trying to keep a cool head. "I think I'm going to go back to reading, if you don't mind." He nodded with a sigh. Trying not to overthink it.

~!~ "Oh Alastor! you shouldn't of!" Alastor stood in your doorway with a nice plate of beignets. His ears pinning to the back of his head as you took the plate from his hands and swiftly invited him in to share them. "Oh how did you know! I haven't had any since I was alive, oh!" You placed them down on the little table you had, clapping as you sat down. "oh?" Alastor sat down across from you, his ear twitching a little bit. "Who was the last person who made them for you, love?" You thought for a moment, just remembering how they were placed in front of you. "I believe....my husband?" You looked down at your dress, trying to remember. "I didn't...know I had a husband.." He blinked a couple times, his heart speeding up more and more. "Well- don't think too hard about it little lady! Just eat up!" You nodded carefully and took a bite. Absolutely stunned at how delishes the sweets were. ~!~ " would you mind grabbing me a tea dear?"

Alastor nodded, the tea appearing on the table in front of you. "oh! Thank you!" "Anything for my dear!"

"Why, *****. Would you mind getting me the cinnamon? " You turned around, looking at the man behind you with a bright smile. His apron red with the words 'kiss the chef on it'. "Anything for you my dear!" He kissed your cheek and you giggled.

"You...did i know you when i was alive, alastor?" He stood still, charlie looked over and raised a brow. "What?" You blinked a couple times.

"I'm so sorry, i shouldn't ask. Uhm- you just remind me of someone...but I can't remember who that someone is.." You shook your head. Laughing a bit as you grabbed the tea and walked away.

Alastor stood in his place, a small twitch in his smile as his ears pushed against his head. A small hum leaving angels mouth as alastor grabbed his coat where his heart should be. ~!~

You looked around everywhere, trying to find the book you were reading and asking almost everyone if they had seen in. It was a little cookbook about new orleans' finest dishes. "Alastor- Dear, have you seen my cookbook?" You walked into the kitchen and hummed, looking up towards the red demon. He was standing over the stove. Some jazz playing from his staff in the corner of the room next to the fridge. He looked back at you and laughed a bit. "Oh! Sorry dear! I found it by the stove and decided to try out a new recipe of deer meat I had found! Do forgive me." You grabbed your head, letting out a small groan and stepping back. Looking at him still.

"Are you alright?" "Honey! Have you seen my gardening apron?!" You walked into the kitchen, a small frown on your face as you looked around for that as well before your husband turned around. A guilty look on his face. "I may or may have not mistaken it for my hunting apron! Please forgive me..." You laughed a bit, huffing and walking up to him with a loving smile. His hands covered in blood from the deer meat he had been making. "I forgive you of course...but my dear red suits you well." You untied the back of the apron and retired it for him.

"Mm, how are you feeling love? Not throwing up anymore?" You shook your head no. Leaning your head against your husbands shoulder as you watched him work away on dinner. "I think it's the Jambalayah love, maybe it is too spicey for me this time..."

"Alastor...do- do you happen to make jambalayah?" He nodded happily, clapping his hands together. "Yes! My mothers recipe of course, it's truly delicious!" You walked up to him and huffed. Standing in front of him with tears in her eyes. "And...you lived in a nice cottage...right? Next to lake....on the edge of town." His smiled dropped a little bit. His ears flattening against his head. "Did you shoot any dear tonight love?" Alastor walked through the door and hung up his jacket, a bright smile on his face as he nodded. "A big one! it's in the back of the truck love." You reached up and ruffled his hair. A laugh leaving his seemingly always smiley face. "Oh my dear you look so tired...why don't I run a shower for you?" Alastor hummed and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Only If you join meee..." You laughed and gently hit his chest. Shaking your head no as he pouted and followed you up.

"Just far enough from the town and just close enough to the stores..." He looked down at her with a soft look. "And just a drive away from the forest..." "Oh Alastor!" You hugged him, tears in your eyes as you held onto him for dear life. "Oh how I missed you my love!" Alastor hugged you back, nearly suffocating you with how tight it was. Laughter filling up the room as he picked you up and spun you around. "Oh my!" "Me and your mother were so worried after you had died- i moved in with her to take care of her but sooner or later i had died from-" You stopped that sentence. Sniffling a little bit and looking up at him. "well that doesn't matter..." You hugged him tightly again.

[gigabyte-flare]

The Devil is Real (Part 1)

Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.

I hope you guys like thrill rides :3

The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail

April 22, 2008

Sis,

I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!

With all my love,

Vince

You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.

This letter, however, says otherwise.

“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned. 

You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.

“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.

Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”

“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!” 

You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.

Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other. 

There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?

“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”

“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”

You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone. 

“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen. 

Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.

“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”

“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.

“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food. 

“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.

“And who’s going to watch André?” 

André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.

“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.

The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.

May 15, 2008

Vince,

First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.

Sis

May 31, 2008

Sis,

I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!

Vince

You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.

The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.

Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”

Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”

You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”

You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”

“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”

“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”

You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”

You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”

You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on. 

“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.

“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”

“If you say so…” you reply softly. 

You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.

“Hey Sis, we’re here!”

After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.

“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”

“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.

You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.

“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it. 

Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.

“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”

Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”

Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.

“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.

“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.

“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.

“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”

“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”

You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.

“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.

“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”

“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”

“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.

“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.

“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.

“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”

While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.

“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”

Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”

“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”

“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”

You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up. 

“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”

Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.

“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building. 

Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.

“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”

There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.

You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.

Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.

“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”

Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”

The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you. 

As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.

Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”

For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief. 

Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”

“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.

Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…

Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.

“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”

The man nods, “sí, claro.”

Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”

“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.

You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.

“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”

“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”

“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.

“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”

“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”

“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”

Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”

“Thank you, Father.”

She is perfect.

Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.

Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.

His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.

Part 2

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Arven Headcannons (Romantic)

No warnings: Just pure fluff

There are a few general headcannons in here and a couple of how i think him and Nemona's friendship would be. But its 90% fluff. I actually wrote WAYYYY more than what's in this post but i didn't think people would want to read an entire Essay. So here are a selection!

This man cannot bake for anything. Give him a grill and bread, he will give you a 5 star meal. Give him a whisk and a cake tray, he will burn the house down. So don’t expect a homemade cake on your birthday. Or at least don’t expect one from him.

He was Smitten with you the moment you agreed to help him on his Titan Quest. Reluctantly or joyfully, hearing you agreeing made him fall head over heels for you and he didn’t even know it. Maybe that's why he tried extra hard on those Sandwiches. 

Arven and Nemona used to fight over the best friend position, You’d usually have to stand in the middle of them to prevent their Pokémon battles from spilling into personal ones. Arven would later claim the Boyfriend card once Area Zero was dealt with, Nemona was very pleased to cement the best friend spot.

You are the only other person who's allowed to take Mabosstiff out on walks. You're his person, so you get the puppy. Nemona and Penny both tried, it resulted in Arven throwing a tomato at Nemona and Penny slowly backing out of the room. He did mourn the tomato though… he wanted that tomato.

Arven isn’t necessarily Protective, but he is observant. He will defend your honour and voice with every ounce of his being. But he also isn’t a violent person, that's what Pokémon battles are for. 

That being said, if something did happen to you, especially if you fell ill. He would go to hell and back to find some way of helping you. He already proved that much, just don’t bail on him if he needs you most.

Love Language: Gift Giving + Quality time.

If he can, he will SPOIL you. He never had someone love him the way you do. Show him the kindness and compassion that makes his heart sore. If he could give you the world. He’d hand you the Galaxy on a silver plate. But until he can find a Cosmo. A plushie will have to be done for now.

He is not a morning person at all. The only reason you will ever find him up before midday is for one of two reasons: A teacher told him off for being late and he’s only got 1 more warning before another suspension OR Mabosstiff dragged him out of bed by the ankle and forced him to go outside. There is no other reason.

Terrible at video games, absolutely horrendous. Dude can’t even play Minecraft without throwing the controller. Penny tried to teach him how to play Stardew Valley, he got angry at Pierre for the backpack price and hasn’t picked up the game again. Though he’s happy to watch you play and will hold down a button if you get tired. Never ask him to play though… unless you need to laugh, then ask. 

One time you tried to put a bow on Mabosstiff ‘s head. With no recollection how or why, it somehow ended up in Arven’s hair. You have now learnt Arven can rock a manbun and a sparkling pastel pink bow. 

When you first stayed the night, dude slept like a board. He did not move a single cell in his body. It wasn’t until you were resting your head on his chest that he actually moved. He has since loosened up, but it took a while for him to trust himself enough to even touch you when you slept. 

He cannot Flirt. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He bought you both onesies to wear on movie nights. Yes he has to have a Saturday movie night with you or he gets grumpy. 

Sometimes Arven will bring you lunch or make you breakfast so he knows you have eaten at least something during the day. Plus he also uses it as an excuse to see you smile but he will never say that to your face. Only Mabosstiff.

Dude is terrified of Cetitan. Ever since the "mountain incident" Cetitan is his greatest enemy. Arven tries to act tough and unafraid to impress you but, Grusha has and will continue to use this fear to his Advantage any time Nemona drags Arven to the Mountains. You totally didn’t make a deal with Grusha and Nemona, that isn’t something you did… Wink wink.

You don’t borrow his clothes, he donates them. There have been numerous occasions you have opened a drawer or wardrobe to find one of his numbers, jackets, vests, anything! Just something new of his somewhere for you to have. He will even buy different sizes if you prefer baggy shirts or snug shirts.

He remembers everything and yet nothing at the same time. You ask him what day it is, he’ll look at you like you just asked him to explain calculus to a class of year 1’s. Ask him your favourite movie!? Arven will go into excruciating detail about everything to the point you’d think he directed it. Nemona and Giacomo once held a quiz night on Arven just to test how much he did remember. Dude remembered nothing about anyone else, except birthdays… he’s good at that. But you dude could write your autobiography. 

Dude has zero fear of heights, once Miridon learnt how to fly, anytime Arven would join you, he’d always sit behind you so he could hold your waist. It’s been a little thing of his ever since Area Zero, he can’t not do it. Even if he’s the better driver; Dude will sit behind you as an excuse to just hold you.

Almost No PDA he is a private person. He does lean on you though or will stand behind you almost like a bodyguard. If he does touch you in public it's usually a reassuring hand on the shoulder, on the small of your back to guide you somewhere or your arm locked into his. He isn’t a hand holder, he usually is carrying something or needs his hands free so he does subtle stuff instead.

[vixstarria]

Are you mine?

So I was initially going to do maybe 500 words worth of them being cute and cuddly, but then this happened. I have no control at this point, I am just the messenger. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Mostly fluff and comfort with a bit of hurt (Astarion’s past recollections), basically just pillow talk, cuddling, banter, non-explicit, no spoilers 

Very late Act 1 / early Act 2 (pre-confession). I’ve already written past this point earlier, but I think it’s such a fun time to return to for anything flirty, with Astarion being in love but being pissed off and / or in denial about it.  

Approximately 2,000 words 

AO3

Being able to get by with little sleep was both a blessing and a curse. In no time at all you were ready to take on whatever the day would throw at you. You were rested, alert, ready for battle. The downside? The amount of time you had to spend alone with your thoughts.   

You weren’t fully alone, not exactly. You laid on your side with your nose buried in her neck, one of your arms underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around her, your leg following the bend of hers like you were chasing her warmth, bare skin on bare skin, your bodies filling each other’s nooks so perfectly.  

You could have been up and doing something useful, you supposed, but you didn’t want to waste a precious second of being able to just hold her. 

You winced and sighed, having caught yourself on that thought.  

Pathetic idiot... 

The truth was, you knew you were living on borrowed time.  

Oh you toyed with the idea of amassing more tadpoles for more powers and seeing how long and how far you could take this, but in your heart of hearts you knew this was a lunatic idea. The absolute best-case scenario was that one way or another, the tadpole would be removed from your brain, removing all its benefits alongside it. 

Then, you would spend the rest of your eternal life in the shadows, forever looking over your shoulder in fear of being dragged back to Cazador.  

You would never see the sun again.  

You would probably never see her again.  

Suddenly feeling choked up, despite not really even needing to breathe, you pressed your lips against the small of her neck, pausing then landing a few more small, soft kisses along her shoulder. 

She stirred and rolled over onto her stomach, looking at you with a knowing smile through her mess of hair. 

Shit. 

“Oh... I thought you were asleep,” you said. 

“I know...” she replied, stretching lazily. “You only kiss me like that when you think I’m sleeping.” 

So many implications in that statement. Your mind immediately churned out a dozen ways to respond, deflecting, denying, joking or otherwise brushing it off. But you wanted to see where leaning into it might take you.  

“Do I..? Here, I’ll fix that.” 

You leaned toward her, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just your lips brushing against hers, petal-soft. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as you trailed your lips further along her skin, leaving featherlight kisses from the corner of her mouth further up the side of her face.  

You were careful to keep the kisses tender rather than sensual. Not something you were accustomed to, at all. She smiled and squirmed a little as your lips dipped below her jawline near her earlobe. 

“That tickles...” she murmured, making you chuckle.  

“My sweet girl,” you whispered, nuzzling her ear. 

Ugh, where in the hells did that come from..? you thought, startled. 

She noticed. Of course she noticed. 

She shifted onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow and resting her head on her hand.  

“Am I? Yours?” There it was again, that knowing, quizzical look.  

“Are you not?” you asked.  

“Hmm... How can I tell?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you flashed her a roguish grin, which she ignored. 

“Should it be? Is there something you’ve done to claim me as yours?” 

Her words might have stung, had her tone not been so playful rather than mocking. She was encouraging, not denying you.  

I don’t suppose she’s going to count all the unspeakable things we’ve done to each other. I guess I wouldn’t either. 

“Is that what you want me to do?” you asked, slowly tracing a finger down her arm.  

“That depends... Do you want me to be yours?” 

This conversation was idiotic. Why was it making you increasingly giddy? 

“Come now, we have been doing this for how long? Are we really going to be coy about whether or not we like each other?” you asked, trying to sound assured rather than flustered.  

She leaned forward, as if to reveal a secret for your ears only. 

“That’s not quite what we’re being coy about, now is it?” she whispered, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips.  

You were completely out of your depth in this kind of flirting, if one could call it that. Concentrating on the physical and sexual, dropping innuendos, hinting at promises you had no intention of keeping, teasing, arousing, adding in just the right amount of vulgarity to otherwise honeyed words to make them blush and stammer in trepidation... That you could do all day as an afterthought, all while mulling over something you had read earlier, or otherwise being a thousand leagues away with your thoughts.  

But this... It was like she was playing with and delicately caressing your innermost, rawest feelings, all whilst inviting you to do the same with hers. Sex was barely even a consideration. This was an entirely different dance. And it was exhilarating. 

Before you could think of what to say, she moved on. 

“You know, Lae’zel propositioned me earlier,” she said, briefly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.  

“She did what? ...And how did that go?” 

“It was very... Lae’zel. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering to kill me or fuck me at first. I had to politely decline.” 

“And you didn’t tell me?” you frowned. 

“Should I have?” She studied you with a curious look, resting her chin on her hands. “How would it make you feel? If I accepted her offer?”  

Like the whole world was pulled out from beneath my feet. Again. 

“You and Lae’zel? Hmm. Sounds like something I’d pay to watch.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes seemed to be piercing straight into your soul. You had to quickly do a double-take on whether your tadpole might have been betraying anything to hers, before rebuking yourself. She wouldn’t pry like that.  

Your eyes roamed around the tent as you tried to assemble some words that weren’t too far from or too close to the truth. 

“Lae’zel is... exotic. Far be it for me to stand between anyone and such an... ‘outlandish’ experience. But I would prefer to have you all to myself, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t devote all that time to making sure that pretty head of yours stays on your shoulders just to have Lae’zel decapitate you in her throes of passion.” 

“That’s still not what I asked, but I’ll let it slide,” she rolled her eyes. “Getting a straight answer from you is like trying to seduce a blushing maiden.” 

“A riveting challenge?” 

“A tiresome one. That’s most likely not worth the effort.” 

How many blushing maidens have you seduced?   

“Alright, fine, I admit I might be a bit jealous. ...On top of being concerned for your wellbeing, darling.” 

“Just a bit jealous?” she teased. 

“Matters of honour would demand that I challenge her to a duel,” you sighed. 

“You have no honour. And she would crush you.” 

“I know. But I would die a hero’s death. Songs about me would live through the ages. ...You might need to write them for me.” 

“Sure, right after I wrote songs about how I conquered a githyanki,” she snorted. “Or perhaps songs about being conquered by one myself? I could spin it either way. Which do you think would stir more loins?” 

“I don’t know and my own loins are taking no part of this. Now are you going to keep talking nonsense, or will you go back to sleep already?” 

“Why, so you can sneak more tender little kisses on me?” she laughed. 

You didn't really want her to fall back asleep. Talking with her kept your darker thoughts at bay. What you did want, was to feel her wrapped around you again. 

“You know what? If you’re not going to sleep, you may as well carry on with your business, and I’ll meditate sitting up for a change.”  

You snatched the blanket from her, making her exclaim a sharp “Hey!” as the cold mountain air touched her bare skin, and wrapped it around yourself, settling in a cross-legged position. Moments later, she was on your lap, facing you with her legs wrapped around your hips. Just as you anticipated. You smirked and accepted her in your blanket cocoon, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close as you kissed her. 

“So, my blushing maiden,” she said as she leaned away from you, slightly, stretching her arms around your neck and resting her forearms on your shoulders. “It seems I have you backed up against a wall. I won’t force you – do what you will with your virtue. But you must decide. Will you give in willingly? Or deny me, and spend the rest of your life wondering: what if?” She leaned in to whisper the last two words dramatically. “I will ask you again: do you want me to be yours?” 

You wondered if she had any idea how apt that comparison really was to how you felt. 

Or how eerily similar it was to some of the tactics you yourself employed when luring in your victims. Hells, even the words were almost identical to some of the ones you’ve used. To make them surrender with reckless abandon, throwing all caution to the wind, blinded by your promises. Cattle rushing happily to the slaughter. 

You knew all this. You’d seen it countless times. But just then, you also saw there was no malice in her eyes. Only something like hope that she was trying to mask with mischief.  

Wherever she was leading you, you wanted to follow.  

“Fine,” you said softly, looking into her eyes. “I do want you to be mine. And no, I don’t want to share you with anyone.” You felt oddly elated as the words left your mouth. “I’d feel compelled to dismember any hand that touched you, so to give me a fair chance at survival, could you stay away from Lae’zel? Please?” 

She grinned and grasped your face in her hands, pressing her lips against yours. 

“Good girl,” she purred, still grinning, earning herself a sharp pinch on her bottom, making her jolt before she continued. “This leads me to my next question: do you want to be mine?” 

There it was. The trap beyond the lure. You saw it clear as day. And still, you wanted to follow her. 

“Darling, after the past 200 years, I’m really not disposed to letting anyone else claim ownership of me”. You watched her smile falter, and you hurriedly continued before it turned to sadness or disappointment, or worse, pity, and spread to her eyes. “But I just might make an exception for you… If the offer is mutual.” You took one of her hands in yours. “So, are you? Mine?” you asked, placing a kiss on her knuckles.  

Who’s backed against a wall now? 

"Of course I am. As if you even needed to ask.” She touched her forehead against yours before placing another kiss on your lips. Did she have to sound so triumphant saying that? “I am yours and no one else’s. Now you say it.”  

Ah, still me. 

Still, you fought hard not to laugh as a feeling of relief spread warmly throughout your body. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were. 

“Alright, alright...” You cleared your throat and held a dramatic pause before continuing. “You are mine and no one else’s.” 

She let out an exasperated growl and grabbed and twisted one of your nipples. You chortled even as you yelped, grabbing the offending hand and holding it behind her back. She immediately made another attempt with her other hand, which you also successfully intercepted, now holding both her arms behind her. Refusing to give up, she went for your shoulder with her teeth, with a maniacal giggle, as you laughed and tried to fend her off with your chin.  

“Yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, you feral wildcat! I’m yours... Only yours.” you declared hastily into her hair somewhere near her ear, as she calmed down. “I mean it. Now behave! I always ask before I bite, don’t I?” you said, releasing her arms. 

She attempted to glare at you, her eyes narrowed, but couldn’t keep her face straight and broke into a grin again.  

“Well... Look at us...” she drawled, placing her arms back onto your shoulders. “Snatched up onto the nautiloid with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and now we’ve each got a whole other person.” 

She looked so pleased and happy... Why..? This couldn’t last. No matter how much you wanted it to. …Could it..?  

You were falling, deeper and deeper. 

My love... My sweet, sweet love... Where are you taking me? 

~~~~~ 

Next in series - Gentle warding bond

Want more of these two? There’s more. Series master list. 

AO3

[w2soneshots]

Blind date -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: talk of past relationship and break up.

summary: Faith sets you and Harry up on a blind date, little did she know you already dated him years prior.

notes: hi my loves, I hope you’re having a lovely day/night. I apologise for the lack of posting recently, I’ve been so busy! But I absolutely love this idea. Enjoy!!🤗💘

Today I'm going on a blind date. I've never done anything like this before but it's been set up by one of my new friends Faith, who I trust not to pick a dickhead. I'm meeting him at an Italian restaurant that's just a ten minute walk from my apartment. I'm nervous but also quite excited.

I spent extra time getting ready and picking a cute outfit. Once I was finished I began the walk to the restaurant. I took a deep breath before walking inside. I'd arrived a little bit late so I assumed he'd already be there.

I looked around for a moment before my eyes landed on Harry, the boy I dated two years ago. It only lasted a few weeks and we were never actually official. We just wanted different things at the time so both decided to go our separate ways.

"Oh my fucking god." I muttered quietly to myself. I turned around, quickly pulling out my phone. "Surely this is just a coincidence?" I thought. I texted Faith to be sure. "Did you set me up with Harry Lewis?!" I asked, trying to remain calm. She replied quickly. "Yeah, he's Ethan's friend. Do you recognise him?" "We dated two years ago Faith! What do I do?" "Omg! Was it toxic?" "No, we just wanted different things." "Go talk to him then! Maybe this is meant to be." I recollected myself, maybe it is meant to be.

As I walked towards him I thought about how on earth I didn't know that Faith's boyfriend Ethan was also Harry's friend Ethan, who I hadn't actually met when we were together since we weren't that serious.

I knew Harry did youtube and Faith had told me that her boyfriend's name was Ethan but I obviously never connected the dots. I have also only known Faith for a few months and we met through a mutual friend so we haven't really discussed our personal lives properly.

Harry looked up and his eyes connected with mine. A look of pure shock and surprise spread across his face. He stood up, stumbling slightly. "Uh- I- y/n?" He stuttered. I chuckled nervously. "Hey, long time no see." His hand reached up to scratch the back of his neck. "Yeah... are you my date?" "I guess so. I'm friends with Faith."

He sat down and I sat opposite him. An awkward silence fell over us. "So- uh- how've you been?" He asked. "Pretty good. I officially live in London now." One of the reasons our relationship didn't work was that I lived to far away but last year I moved into my current apartment to be closer to work. "Oh, you do?" "Mhm, my apartments just ten minutes from here." I replied, fiddling with my hands under the table.

We ordered some drinks and the conversation started to flow. He told me about all of the major things that had happened in his life since I last saw him and we discussed his friendship with Ethan. When we were "together" we had pretty good chemistry, I was always laughing and smiling when I was around Harry and I was starting to feel the same things I felt two years ago as the date progressed.

While we ate our food we moved onto the topic of how on earth we ended up on a date together. "So Faith had no idea that you knew me before setting us up?" Harry asked before taking another bite of his pizza. "No, absolutely no clue." "That's... really strange." "I know, like out of all the people she could have chosen she picked you." "Did you ask her to set you up with someone?" He asked, head tilted slightly to the side. "Mhm. I asked if she knew anyone since the dating scene in London is really shit." He chuckled, "You're not wrong."

After eating our pizza we left the restaurant, just as the sun was setting. We stopped outside for a moment before I spoke. "Did you wanna come back to mine for a drink or something?" His eyes lit up slightly. "Yeah- yeah, I'd like that." I smiled. "Okay then, this way." I grabbed his hand absentmindedly.

"Uh- sorry." I apologised as soon as I realised what I'd just done. He smirked slightly. "Don't apologise." I looked up at him. His eyes flickered from my eyes to my lips. My breath caught in my throat and my heart rate sped up. "I haven't ever liked anyone as much as I like you." He admitted. "Like, as in present tense?" I questioned. He nodded slowly. "Having dinner with you today made me realise how much I missed you." My face softened. "I missed you too," I whispered.

"So would you be willing to give us another go? You know, now that you live in London?" He asked hopefully. I smiled. "I'd like that." He placed his hand on the back of my neck, slowly bringing me towards him until our lips were just millimetres apart. I pushed myself onto my tiptoes, closing the gap. We both fell into the kiss, my mind immediately taking me back to two years ago as I realised I'd never really gotten over Harry Lewis.

[anticanonsposts]

Hii

I have an idea and it's kind of silly but I'll ask anyway because I love your writing

But you could do a Konig domestic where he passes out for some reason (not a battle wound or anything) and reader take care of him and then he's SO clingy afterwards

Tks 🤍

omg tysm!!! also i appreciate the requests so please keep making them!!! (i live off of the validation i get on here)

also i have some more stuff in the drafts that i wanna write, and i love the trend thats been going around about nerd!konig and i rly want to contribute so stay tuned!!!

cw: none

König had such a big day. His girlfriend y/n had been working tirelessly for the past couple weeks at her new job. She was definitely more stressed out than normal and König felt so bad. So he decided to run multiple errands that day (Friday) before she got home for the weekend. First he went grocery shopping, a smaller store and Costco to get some essentials. Then he came home and cleaned their apartment from top to bottom, because he knew it wasn’t her favorite and it would be so nice for her to come home after a long week. When he was at the store he also made sure to pick up her favorite snacks, drinks, and ingredients for dinner. By the time he was all done he fell onto the couch exhausted. Flicking his wrist up he saw that it was 4:30 which meant that in a couple hours y/n would be home. He felt pretty satisfied with himself, but also very tired. As he was thinking about getting up to shower and wait for her to get home, the grips of sleep clasped over his eyes and he fell asleep :/.

Some time later, y/n opens the front door to her and König’s shared apartment and walks in, ready to just relax this weekend. Immediately she notices how clean everything is. After putting her bag down she goes over to the refrigerator, knowing there wouldn't be much in it since they needed to go grocery shopping. To her lovely surprise whens he swung open the door she saw all of her favorites. This makes her connect the dots in her mind, König must have done all of this while she was at work today, how sweet. 

“He’ll be getting something nice later” she mutters to herself, smiling as she walks away toward the bedroom. But she quickly stops when she looks over to see Konig, absolutely passed out on the couch. 

Carefully pitter pattering over to him, she pauses and lovingly gazes down at him. His mouth slightly agape, a small snore coming from him. Although he looks precious sleeping on the couch, she knew that if he stayed like that, he would wake up with the worst back pain ever. So gently she started to sit him up, and led him half asleep to their bedroom. König would have absolutely no recollection of this when he woke up, thinking he had either moved himself to the bed or that he had fallen asleep on the bed by accident. 

Once in bed, y/n gently arranged pillows and squishmallows (shameless self insert <3) around König’s body to make him as cozy as possible. Once satisfied she started to strip so that she could go shower. 

About ten minutes later, König gently woke up to a slight steam in the room, and the smell of strawberry and rose from y/n’s soaps. He stirred more, bringing his hands to his eyes to rub them awake. Then, with a sudden jolt, he sat up, feeling panicked. 

How could he let himself fall asleep?? He was supposed to finish setting up the perfect, relaxing evening for y/n. But no, his sleepy ass just had to ‘rest his eyes’ for a second.

But before his thoughts could spiral too much, he hears the shower being turned off. So, quietly he meanders to the bathroom door, slipping off his shirt, hoping to join her in the shower. Giving the door a few soft taps so as not to spook y/n. He’s met with the door swinging open and a beaming (naked) y/n, her body freshly moisturized, hair tied up since she washed it the day before, and in the middle of her skin care routine. 

“Hey baby! I noticed everything in the kitchen, and I really appreciate it.” she says, eyes shining with nothing but love. It is returned by König’s eyes, practically with hearts in them. Nothing made him happier than doing things for her, other than being with her. 

Wordlessly, he steps closer to her, pulling her body close to him by the small of her back and shoulder. He knows from past experience to not touch her face while she is doing her skin care, (he has been reprimanded before). Bending over slightly, he presses his lips to hers taking a breath in as he does so. Pulling away, he sits himself on the closed lid of their toilet that of course has a fuzzy pink cover on it. 

Now taking a moment to scan his eyes over her body. Not quite in a hungry way, but more so admirable. Taking a few moments to appreciate every plush curve, every supple, plump part of her body. She was too perfect, she looked like a renaissance painting, something that an artist created when they were tasked with painting beauty itself. 

Broken out of his haze, y/n says, “Can I do your skincare?” 

“Yes of course.” he responds, giddy inside. Whenever she offered to use her products on him, he was always super happy. It meant that she would be looking at his face, and giving him small, gentle touches. He had never been with someone like this. His past was mostly hook ups, a couple ‘relationships’ here and there but nothing this intimate. Having someone’s gentle hands glide over your face over and over again as truly more intimate and sensual than any sex he had ever had. Now, he had no idea what products she was using on him, she could be painting his face purple for all he knew, if it weren’t for the mirror. But this was part of the trust he liked about this activity. Knowing that she was sharing her products that she spent her money on, that were clearly good enough for her beautiful skin, and she was sharing them for his scarred, damaged skin. 

Once she started putting eye cream on him, König took his large arms and wrapped them around her body, pressing his bare chest to her naked body. Minutes passed as she finished the routine, and all König could focus on were how pretty her eyes looked when she focused on something. As well as how their bodies moved opposite each other with their breaths. 

Y/n, smoothing out the last moisturizer onto her boyfriend’s face, letting each of her hands rest on either side of his face, palms pressed against his cheeks, fingertips gently clasping onto his face. His face has its share of scares, but is warmer and plumper now that he has been out of the military for a while. She appreciates everything about this man, his tenderness, his patience, and of course how obsessed with her he is. Then breaking her own rules after skin care, she starts pressing soft kisses along his cheeks and jaw, then resting her forehead against his when she was done. 

This man’s eyes welled up with tears. He loved how soft she was with him, how kindly she treated him. His mind started to wonder as he started giving her small half blinks, completely enamored with his girlfriend. 

“König?” y/n says softly, it was about the third time she called his name. Bringing him out of his stupor. “I’m gonna fix my hair really quick then we can cuddle ok?” she says raising her eye brows slightly. Earning a small nod from König, she figured he would leave and go wait for her on their bed. But instead, he slightly loosens his grip and allows her to stand up. Facing the mirror again, y/n starts to fix her hair from the various clips she used to clip up her curls for her shower. König, still in the bathroom, chose to stand right behind y/n. Completely behind her, pressing his front against her back, bracing his arms on either side of her body. 

He can be pretty clingy sometimes, but this was surprising, even for him. Nonetheless, y/n doesn’t mind and finishes with her hair before turning her body. Signaling to König that she was leaving. He holds onto her left hand as she basically leads him to the bed. Quickly breaking from his grasp, she goes to her closet and puts on one of König’s shirts, and a pair of undies before climbing onto the bed and pulling König along with her. 

He grabs the tv remote and switches it on, telling her to put on whatever she wants. Then he settles himself in between her legs, now that she’s lying on her back. And nuzzles his face into her chest, wrapping his big ass arms around her middle and sighs contently. She reciprocates by running her fingers through his hair which just brings him past cloud nine. 

Y/n switches on some tv show that she has been binging recently and König soon falls asleep against her chest, feeling completely at peace. 

notes:

I know this isn’t exactly what the prompt says?? I rly just wanted to write sm where König does a bunch of little things for the reader 

[glassica]

Surprise boyfriend

Notes: M!yan x F!reader, non-con, sexual language, cursing, pregnancy trapping, blackmailing threats

"Hey Y/N, heard you go out with Ray right?"

You spat out the remaining cold brew. You? Go out with whom???

People must've assumed you were into him after seeing your exchanges at the party. But you swear that wasn't that serious at all! You were just fooling around to kill time!

- No. Who told you that?

- Ray posted about you all over his insta. Yeah right you don't use that app... But what do you mean you two aren't dating!?

You took one look at your friend's phone. Lo and behold, countless pictures of you and him holding hands and acting all lovey-dovey like a real couple. Your brain juggled through the hazy memories to see when the selfies were taken but oh dear, you were so drunk off the mind on that night to recall everything.

- Ray, excuse me. Do you have a moment?

- Sweetie I always have time for you. What do baby want from me now? ~

His cheesy line brought shattering earthquakes to your brain. God this man had zero shame, or you had been cursed to carry the embarrassment baggage on his behalf. "If we were alone I'd rip his ass off right instant." - you thought. "And I'll never have time for your goofy ass."

- I believe you misunderstood our relationship. I must've said something deceitful to you during at the party and I'll take responsibility for that. I don't plan to date you or anyone, Ray. I'm so sorry for misleading you.

You spoke in a remorseful tone. Though not able to recollect what nonsense the mouth had blabbered, you felt like owning him an apology regardless. Kids this was why you should never let peer pressure get to you and drink over limits, you never knew if one day you accidentally being entangled with some jackass.

Surprisingly Ray's expression didn't seem to fazed for a bit. On the contrary, the grin on his face got even more ominous and deranged, alerted your sixth sense that nothing coming out from this man was any good: It was a grave mistake involving him in your life.

"My baby wanna break up with me? Oh sweetheart how could you abandon me like that? Have you forgot your little promises to me about love and loyalty? Didn't you say I was your type, that your greatest wish was to be wrapped in my arms every night and showered your body with plenty of kisses?"

Freak. Weirdo. Creep.

How could anyone breath in the same direction of this guy and not get their skin crawled for a second? You were both amused and pissed off witnessing this whole circus show, wondering how out mind you were last Friday to be attracted to this walking joke of a man.

Get this over quickly, or you would end up committing some atrocities on that stupid face.

"I wasn't sober at the time. I must've been spewing rubbish. I'm really sorry for lying to you Ray, but can you please take down those pictures?"

"Why should I? I need to show off everyone my Sweetie's already taken, so that no one could touch you. Besides," - Ray tucked his head over your shoulder, the eerily off-putting grin grew even wider as he whispered softly to your ears, "those pics aren't the only proof of our unshakable bond."

He trailed off, calmly put a hand on your belly.

Your mind went blank.

"BITCH! YOU FUCKING RAPED ME!?"

"Now now. You hurt my heart, Sweetie. How could you accuse me of such heinous crime when all I did so much to give you such good time on bed? And don't lie, your pussy was cumming hard for my crotch. I still can recall those pretty little buds-"

Just then, Ray felt a burning heat on his left cheek. You were done. Completely dropped off manners. Eyes flaming with disgust and resentment while both hands clenching fist furiously, you became a wild animal determined to chew off its prey to the bone. You didn't care about anything else, any consequences after, your absolute goal at the moment was to tear this asshole to shreds.

But Ray was infuritatingly nonchalant, cocky even. He wasn't bothered for a bit when facing your wrath. Rubbing hand on the reddish cheek, he continued:

"Don't you believe you can brush your hand away from me, love. I don't like anyone seeing my angel in her purest form, but I have no problem releasing those clips."

A sadistic chuckle let out of his mouth observing the bloodthirst drained out from your face. If you didn't want him as your prince, then he wouldn't hesitate becoming the big bad villain tainting your life forever.

Ray caught your lifeless body in a loving embrace, just like that Friday night, and many more nights in the future.

[mattscoquette]

𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬/𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 - 𝑺𝑰𝑿 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

cursing, angst, crying

3.0k words

introduction 1 2 3 4 5 7

addilyn richardson,

spent the next few days avoiding matt outside of their work sessions at absolutely every cost. she still went to his house, but it was as if they were back at square one again, and she was barely talking to him. she'd worked herself up so much after admitting she actually did like matt, she couldn't even look at him anymore without turning bright pink. her and matt were just about done with the actual marble run, only needing to add some final touch ups. today they were both at addilyn’s again, working together on the writing part of the project. she had probably spoken at most ten sentences to him since they got there, and even matt had noticed she’d been acting odd the last couple of days. he thought they made it to better terms, acting nice with one another, joking around and maybe even flirting a little. but maybe not. maybe he was overthinking that part a little.

“are you okay adds?” matt asked, lifting his head up to look at her. she sighed, turning to look at the wall. she felt bad, she knew she’d been acting weird. she couldn’t help it though, admitting out loud she liked matt a few days ago made it more real. everything he did made her stomach flip. she couldn’t sit through their sessions without having to excuse herself to the bathroom at least five times to recollect herself. she looked over at matt, feeling her heartbeat quicken. he didn’t even have to do anything.

“yeah, sorry,” she shook her head, “i’m just a little stressed about the assignment.” it wasn’t a total lie, the project was a lot of work. but she couldn’t tell him that the way he smiled at her was making her chest tighten.

“okay, let’s take a break,” matt grinned. he moved the notebook off his lap, turning his body to face her on the bed, leaning with his arms rested behind him. she froze, eyes going wide and staring at him. he smirked back at the girl as she studied his face, looking at every little freckle and crevice. “stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?” addilyn laughed, looking down at her feet shyly.

"nothing,” matt replied cooly, almost flirty, addilyn thought, running his hands that were decorated with various silver rings through his hair. he ducked his head down to get addilyn to look at him. “tell me something about you that i don’t know.”

she tilted her head to the side, her confused gaze meeting matt’s again. he was wearing grey sweatpants and a crewneck, similar to what he wore everyday, but it was still making addilyn shift around as she looked at him. "i don't know," she giggled, “um, i traveled to europe last summer.”

“what else?” matt pried slightly, leaning closer to the girl who sat next to him. his arm that was behind him began to ever so slightly moved behind addilyn as he got nearer. he smelled of cologne and clean laundry. the way he was close to her, the sound of his voice, it was all too much for addilyn. she felt her breathing hitch.

she thought. “i had a pet cat when i was younger.”

“tell me more,” matt grinned, “you don’t talk to me anymore.”

“i don’t know,” she replied quietly, feeling herself gravitate towards matt, “you tell me something first.”

matt looked at her, his pink lips tugging into a soft smile. he thought for a moment, before replying as quietly as she had. “my favorite color is blue.”

“that’s boring, tell me something i don't know about you.” she retorted, using his words against him. she was playing with her hands as they sat in her lap, and shifted a tiny bit closer to him, not daring to break away from his gaze. matt just stared at her, his eyes darting all over her face. his hand was fully behind her back now as he shifted all of his weight towards her. they were sitting so close to one another that if anyone walked in on them, they wouldn’t have guessed they were science partners. addilyn stared back at him hard, her brown eyes meeting his blue ones. she couldn't help but to flick her eyes quickly down at matts lips. she could feel the tension building around them.

please kiss me she thought.

“i have seventeen stitches in my head,” matt said, barely audible. he was so close to her, addilyn could feel his breath fan across her face, smelling lightly of the spearmint gum he had been chewing earlier.

“what else?” she whispered.

“i don’t know,” matt breathed, leaning as close to her as he could without actually touching her. his face was inches away from hers. his lips were parted slightly, leaning even closer to the girl as he looked down at her lips that were glossy from the chapstick she'd put on ten minutes ago. addilyn held her breath and felt her eyes fluttering closed. everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. she leaned in slowly, meeting matt in the middle as their noses brushed softly into one another. a second before their lips could touch, they broke apart at the sound of matt’s phone ringing.

the two pulled back abruptly, both of their faces bright red. matt coughed awkwardly as he picked up his phone and looked to see who was calling. “i’ll be right back.”

“yeah,” addilyn nodded, looking at her feet again. she could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest, she thought matt would be able to hear her from the hallway. she blinked rapidly, trying to regain herself. she couldn’t believe she almost just kissed matt. what would have happened if the phone didn’t ring? would he have actually kissed her, or would he have pulled away at the last second? would she even been good at it? she’d never kissed a boy in her life, and here she was with a boy she liked in her room. she sighed, picking up her phone to look at the time. it was barely even dinner time, and they still had work they needed to get done. she just hoped it wouldn’t be awkward when matt came back in.

as if on cue, her bedroom door swung open, matt coming in and packing up his book bag swiftly. “sorry addy, i have to go.” he told the girl, swinging the bag over his shoulder.

she blinked up at him, looking confused. “okay.”

“i’m sorry,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets, “chris called saying he needs me to pick him up from nate’s house.”

addilyn couldn’t help but notice the heavy feeling of disappointment rise in her chest. “y-yeah, i understand, you’re good.” her mind began to wander off, and thought about if he had stayed longer, if he would try and kiss her again.

“i’ll, uh, i’ll see you tomorrow in science, yeah?” matt mumbled, shifting his weight back in forth.

“yeah, okay.” she nodded and stood up from the bed to match matt’s height, suddenly feeling small. she wasn’t sure what to do, she felt he was leaving so awkward and abruptly. should she hug him? kiss his cheek? i mean, he was just about to kiss her, so would that be weird? she was so new to all of this. she opened her mouth to speak, then closing it. she looked up at matt, offering a small smile, praying she could hide her disappoint well.

matt smiled softly at her, his eyes moving across her face, trying hard to remember how she looked in this moment. he spoke quietly. “bye adds.”

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

the next day addilyn didn’t speak to matt once. she ignored his waves to her in science this afternoon, and even texted him after class saying she couldn’t work tonight because she didn’t feel well. a lie. at this point, she didn’t even care about the stupid assignment anymore. they had most of it done, anyway, so she wasn’t too worried. they both worked hard and would get at the very least an a-. and besides, matt needed this grade more than she did. an a- for her would suck, but she'd rather take that than have to see matt again tonight. she convinced herself in 12 hours she had totally made an embarrassment of herself. he was her science partner for crying out loud. she was best friends with his brothers, and she wasn't even his type. why did she think he'd want her? she just thought he was feeling sympathetic and went to kiss her out of pity. she'd rather take a semi bad grade than deal with all of that. addilyn was currently in lunch, reading a book with her earbuds in, trying to distract herself from thinking of matt. she looked up at the feeling of one of her earbuds being pulled out of her right ear. chris smiled down at her, plopping his stuff down next to her.

“hi addy,” he said to her, sitting, “what are you doing later tonight?”

she sighed, closing her book. she didn’t exactly tell chris about her feelings for matt, but he picked up on it when they were all at mcdonald’s the other night, when addilyn and nick kept sharing secret smiles whenever matt did or said something.

chris and matt were sat in the front seat, addilyn and nick paired in the back. they were all sat in the parking lot, indulging themselves in the cheap mcflurrys that chris bought for everyone.

“my treat,” he had said, “i got a b on my book report.” they all laughed, piling themselves into matt’s mini van as he drove them up the road to get food. nick was yelling about encounter he had with a teacher earlier that day.

“he wouldn’t let me go pee!” he exclaimed, “so i got up, walked out, and went to the bathroom.”

the other three laughed as nick told his story, matt looking to addilyn every single time he laughed. this happened the whole night. whether they looked at each other while they laughed at something the others said, or shared small glances that went unnoticed by the other two in the car.

at one point, nick did notice this, and nudged addilyn after matt looked away from her. chris was telling a story, and matt was staring at addilyn the entire time. chris took note, putting the pieces together slowly the whole night.

“nothing.” she told the boy, looking over at him.

he furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused. “you’re not working with matt tonight?”

she shook her head no. “i’m not feeling too great.”

chris frowned at her, “really?” she nodded. “well, i was thinking maybe if you’re up to it later, you can come with us go get ice cream. it's half off tonight for the wrestling team's charity, matt and nick wanted you to come too.” there was that feeling of pity again. he only wanted her there because he felt bad she had nothing better to be doing on a friday night.

addilyn looked away from chris, her eyes scanning across the cafeteria. naturally, her stare fell to matt. he was sitting with some of his friends from his lacrosse team, listening them tell a story while laughing with his head thrown back. she wasn’t sure how he managed to effortlessly look that good. pity, addy, he feels bad for you, stop thinking he's cute. matt sat back up, instantly locking eyes with addilyn across the room. she turned her direction back to chris. “i’m not sure, i’ll text you later and let you know.”

he nodded, letting her go back to her book. before she could fully submerge herself into it, the bell rang, dismissing them to the next class. addilyn collected her belongings, seeing matt walk right past her. he turned back around, looking over his shoulder to her and smiling. she felt her eyes begin to well with tears as she walked in the opposite direction. she didn’t even know why she was upset.

she darted into the closest bathroom, locking herself in the last stall, before she began to let tears fall. she covered her mouth with her sweatshirt sleeve, trying to silence her sobs. she cried as she thought about matt, not even knowing where to begin with him. she felt like she ruined everything they had going for them. regardless if she liked him or not, she simply enjoyed his company. she loved the way he would actually listen to her when she talked, not just hear her. the way he’d rub his his eyes when he laughed really hard. she just loved to be around him. she loved the way he would make her chest feel fuzzy when he made eye contact with her. she loved the way he would scrunch his nose up when he was confused about something. she cried, thinking deep down in her heart after this project was over matt would forget all about her and move on to the next girl. what would he even see in her? the more and more addilyn picked herself apart, the more and more she was convinced matt simply pitied her. she was nothing like the girls he seemed to have interest in. she never had real feelings for a boy before, it was all so confusing.

the bell rang, signifying the start of the final period of the day. art. addilyn couldn’t go into the room with nick and act like she wasn’t just sobbing over his brother. she continued to cry over matt, deciding to skip her last class.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

matthew sturniolo,

spent the entire day wishing addilyn would stop acting so weird around him, and hoping they could go back to normal, or whatever normal even was for them. he'd never had an issue with reading someone's interest for him, but he truly could not understand where he stood with addilyn. but he was afraid he fucked everything up by trying to kiss her last night. why would she even like him back? he treated her like shit almost the entire time they worked together. he thought she deserved someone who wouldn't be so confused with himself and careless with her emotions. today in science, she totally walked past him as he smiled and said hi to her. she texted him after class saying she wasn’t coming over to work because she felt sick. matt knew she was lying, but let her have her space. if being closed off is what would get her to come around, he decided it was better to just swallow his sadness and deal with it.

it was the end of the day, and he was making his way out to his car to meet up with his brothers. his head was down looking at something on his phone, not realizing he was about to walk into something, or someone. he collided with the girl, knocking her to the ground as his phone fell from his hand. he looked down to find addilyn on the floor in front of him.

“shit, addy, are you okay?” he asked, reaching his hand out to her, effortlessly helping her up off the ground. she nodded softly, retreating her hand from matt's quickly. she immediately turned to start walking the other way when matt grabbed her arm to stop her.

“hey,” he said softly, turning her to look at him. he let his ego get the best of him, thinking addilyn would want to talk, but he couldn't stand the awkward tension between them, he just wanted to talk to her. his heart sunk when she met his eyes. she looked like she’d been crying for days, her eyes all red and puffy. her lips were parted slightly as she drew a shaky breath. “adds are you alright?” the boy asked worridly.

she turned on her heel, walking in the opposite direction from matt, tears threatening to spill once more. she wouldn’t dare to cry in front of him. matt stood there, watching the curly haired girl walk away. he didn’t have to ask her to know that he was the reason she was crying. there's your ego again, he told himself, not everything is about you and your girl problems. but to matt, addilyn was more than just typical girl problems. feeling defeated, he walked out to the car to find nick and chris standing there already. he climbed into the van, not saying a word as he began to drive.

he didn’t talk much on the drive home, only chiming in once or twice when his brothers would ask for his input on something. as they arrived home, matt immediately went upstairs into his room, flopping down onto his bed. he had no energy to do anything, he felt horrible for being the reason addilyn was upset and distant with him. he wasn’t even sure what he could to do to fix it, she was avoiding him. he opened his phone, clicking her contact. he stared at the blank message screen in front of him, the blue cursor blinking at him mockingly as he thought about what to type.

what would he even say to her? sorry for trying to kiss you yesterday, i’ve been dreaming about what your lips would feel like on mine for the past week. hope we can still be cool. he let out a breath and turned off his phone, letting it fall to his chest. he stared up at the ceiling, racking his brain on how to make things better again. he figured the best thing to do was just let her be alone for now, and maybe try texting her over the weekend. the project was due in only three days, she had to talk to him at school at some point.

he sighed, turning to lay on his side, closing his eyes. he slept for a couple hours before his mom woke him for dinner. like he had done every time he's slept for the past week, he dreamt of addilyn.

© mattscoquette

𝐚/𝐧: this chapter is kinda rough LOL but hopefully they resolve it because next part is the FINAL CHAPTERRRR. i love this series so much i had this trope written for five years but never fully executed it and now it's almost done :,( but fr i loved writing this sm and i hope to do another series at some point! when this is over i plan to just do one shots for a bit before another multiple part story so lmk what y'all want! i hope u guys enjoyyy

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @strombolilovr @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper @sturnrc @sturnifyed @freshlovie @imwetforyourmom

[neverchecking]

Yoo, can I request sub!wild w/ reader? i was thinking like reader could just be teasing him by sucking on his neck, marking him up, ykyk and he's below them desperately trying to grind up against them. bonus points if he comes untouched >:)

have a good day!! or night!! or evening!!!!

You have a good day as well, anon! You absolutely can request that. I mean my favorite boy, being a big ol' sub? Sign me the F U C K up. This is also kind of an apology since my last Wild bit kind of, admittedly, wasn't up to my own standards. It was rushed and not as polished as I normally like. It was deleted twice and I was just over it at that point but that's no excuse. Anyway, I hope this makes up for it, Darling!

And you know I'm going for those bonus points.

Smut, so 18+, MDNI.

Smut CW: Wild is a subby baby boy, you edge him a little, he busts a little prematurely with no touching (BONUS POINTS), and you know me. He cries just a little.

His Home

The difference in the way people treated him varied. It varied a lot. It ranged from people taking one look at his scars and treating him like some form of monster that had escaped from it's cage to people automatically bowing to his every whim-- deeming him some form of warrior who had faced battles far past their comprehension. Some people tried to hide their whispers behind cupped hands and side glances while others outwardly made their disgust known.

It was just the way it was.

At least in his Hyrule, however, he had a safe haven. A home. A place he could go to, to hide and recollect himself enough that dealing with the public was palatable once more. The civilians of his Hyrule knew he was the Hero, yes, but that didn't stop them. They still talked about how he had failed. How he was a century too late. How it didn't matter what he did, because they had grown accustomed to the Calamity. That he had done it for his own pride when that wasn't the case at all. Of course, he knew why he did it. He did it to avenge the fallen champions. He did it to free Flora, who had been fighting non-stop for a hundred years. He did it to ensure his home remained safe and sound.

Because you were his home. You were his sanctuary. You were the one to collect him into your arms and hold him close, gently whispering soft comforts into his ear, the one who was humming a half-remembered lullaby to sooth his nightmares. You remained a stone pillar of patience and comfort for him to follow. Like a beacon calling him to his Goddess.

Then he was dragged away from his home. He went kicking and screaming, make no doubt about it, but it didn't stop that Fraud from pulling him away. He was dropped with his sword brothers, which was...fine (Fine was a good word for it). But they weren't you. They had nothing on you. They could dream of being half of the comfort you were.

That wasn't even the worst of it, however. No, the worst was the face that he had now lost his safety blanket. His one hold over his own crumbling sanity was eons away and the only way he could even hope to reach them was through luck alone and Hylia's filthy grace.

Neither of which he would bet any amount of rupees on. If he were a betting man, that was. But he wasn't.

He wouldn't bet anything on making it back to you in a timely manner.

But life had a way of surprising him, he supposed, as he blinked bleary eyes open only to find familiar surroundings. The stale smell of the forest, the cool feeling of dew and dirt under his palms, even the drifty breeze flowing through his hair. It was all enough to remind him that while he wasn't quite home just yet he was close. Closer than he had been in so long.

He could practically taste you on his tongue already, the salty tang of your sweat; hear the lustrous harmony of all the sounds he could pluck from you. Just thinking about the heat of your skin under his palms, smooth and unmarred unlike his own, had him buzzing with epinephrine. He was sure even the others could pin something was different with him as the minute they entered Hateno they had wandered off to the inn and allowed him to wander off. Which was perfectly fine with him.

He had it all planned out as well. He'd get home, scoop you into his arms tight enough you would never doubt his love for you. His absolute devotion to your being. How nothing, not even time itself, could separate the two of you. Nothing could keep him from you.

Then he'd pepper an absolute flurry of kisses all over your face, neck, anywhere he could reach, just to hear your giggles ring out in pure glee. Feel your arms wrap around his own neck, fighting to return the affection only for him to make the action nearly impossible. How could he break apart from you long enough?

Of course, he would, only to press your lips together in a heart stopping kiss. Just so you could steal his very breath from his lungs. And he'd let it happen. Just to make you happy.

It didn't happen. The reason you and him paired so well together was because you surprised him at every turn. At any given point you could turn him onto his head and throw him for a loop. And he lived for it. The excitement and the rush of following you into unknown waters. It was so addicting.

This was all proven when instead of him trapping you in his arms, you pounced first-- as if waiting for him by the door. You didn't even give him the chance to act before wrapping your arms around his neck, crashing your lips together in a flurry of desire and fondness. Distance does make the heart grown fonder or something, he didn't know. His brain had began the shut-down process, too overwhelmed on emotions and a lack of blood.

When you dragged him to the stairs leading to the loft, positively filthy promises leaving your lips making him stutter. His heart was in his throat, pumping wildly in an effort to make up for all of his blood rushing to his cock-- which stirred to life in his pants.

He hadn't even known he was so pent up until you were pinning him to the bed, hips a familiar weight against his as you dragged your clothed core over his own. It was like being hurdled into the deep end within seconds as something hot and fiery and untampered roared to life in his veins.

His hips bucked wildly, aching for some sort of friction that he desperately needed. He would take anything you gave him, of course, but couldn't you take mercy on his poor, tattered soul? He would slaughter Ganon a million times over should you just lower yourself a bit more. Just give him a little more, please.

The feelings of your lips on his neck had him jolting as his own hands latched onto your hips in a positively bruising grip. Teeth gently nipping at skin before your molten tongue was lapping at the indents, soothing the slight sting. It was all so erotic, positively prurient, and he could barely contain himself. He knew he was whining. High keens full of begging and pleading pleas. He knew he was whimpering. Bordering on too overstimulated to actually do anything, but not stimulated enough to actually burst. It all felt tight and frustrating, with salty tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"Wildflower, please-" He cried out, nails clawing up your back as you moved from the hickey you had previously been working on to an unmarked patch of skin. You hummed against him before gently snapping your teeth on the skin again.

It was too much, but not enough. Just enough to keep him right there, but not enough to teeter over, not yet. At least you seemed to take into account his plea, humming in consideration against his skin before pulling off with a positively lewd pop. You weight settled onto his lap, at long last, before you were returning to your previous endeavor.

It only too one roll.

One roll of your hips, plump and perfect, with just enough weight to stoke his cock in just the right way. One salacious rock of your lower body, pushing against his own in a rush of lust and heat. One roll to have him absolutely shattering underneath of you.

Just the push he needed to have him jutting up into you, in an embarrassingly juvenile move, crying out in pure ecstasy with fat tears finally rolling his cheeks. It was an uncomfortable feeling to be reminded of how tightly wound up he was, but to be reminded of how tightly around your finger he was wound? It was pure bliss. To know that he was yours in such a way that you didn't even have to touch him to have him coming undone was salacious enough to have him remaining hard.

To know that you were such a comfort to him, his home, to have him this `devout to you was enough to have him restarting his entire being as fast as he possibly could if only to pin your stunned form beneath him.

He had to show his faith somehow, didn't he?

[payasita]

Speaking of fic stuff: The Lamb and Nari wake up one morning covered in bandages, surrounded by empty bottles. They have ZERO recollection of the night before. Now what?

He awakes to a taste like bile and rust, and with one hand wrapped in at least twenty layers of gauze.

Narinder takes a second to stare at it, wiggling immobile fingers and contemplating the mechanics of sitting up with a head somehow filled with both cotton and lead. He drops the hand and decides against it, rolling over and pulling a blanket over his head. The movement does absolutely heinous things to his stomach.

A slow minute passes before he realizes he is not under a blanket at all. It's comfortable regardless, so he cannot summon the effort to care. Far softer than anything yet available in the commune. The familiar scent doesn't hurt, warm and securely claimed with his own, and indeed does a good job in blocking out the currently unmanageable stench of the outside world.

Until it's nearly pulled away from him. He clutches onto it with a hiss, and instantly regrets moving so quickly.

"Oh good, you're alive." The Lamb gives it another tug. "Give me back my fleece."

Narinder vaguely remembers having lost a battle against them while at his full divine potential. He'd even had both hands available to him and everything. He cannot truly imagine the odds are with him now.

"Thank you," they huff when he unlatches his claws. He searches for something else to cover his face while they clothe themself. His skull appears to be imploding.

"I am dying," he declares. There's a few seconds of silence. Contemplation on the Lamb's end. Abject suffering on Narinder's.

"Nope. Not sensing it."

"Your competence with the Crown is dubious at best."

"You're not dying," they assure him, lightheartedly, "It just feels like it."

He groans, rolling over and hitting himself in the face with the large gauze lump in his attempt to throw his arm over his eyes. He snarls, and begins blindly picking at it with his free claw to find the edge.

The Lamb snorts, leaning over him. They have an armful of empty bottles under an arm, and are looking infuriatingly chipper.

"How'd you go and do that to yourself?"

He glares at them, pointedly.

"I clearly cannot have done this on my own."

"What, you don't remember?"

"...No," he admits. "What happened, then?"

"Oh, hell if I know," the Lamb laughs, and is saved from having that smile shorn off their face by his vertigo alone.

They move around him and pick up another bottle, inspecting it. "I was at the same feast you were, y'know. And if you'd had all this yourself, you probably would be dead," they gesture to the bundle under their arm, already five or six strong and slipping a bit.

"... Actually, we should probably both still be dead," they tut. "I don't even know what the flock puts in this stuff, 'sides from berries. But wow, they're good at it. Hey, actually, do you think maybe we have the makings of something worth exporting to the outside world? Plimbo's always making trips back and forth to who-knows-where, I bet we could--"

"Lamb."

"Mm?"

"Your chattering is causing me physical pain."

"Oop. ...Guess I should be grateful for the divine healing factor, huh?"

Narinder ponders the irony of wishing Death incarnate to choke, and finally finishes unraveling his hand. He squints at it. He sees no damage whatsoever that might have compelled anyone to waste medical resources on him. Not a strand out of place. He inspects his claws, and finds a bit of blood under them. Odd.

"There must be, like, a dozen bottles of wine in here. Do you think I drank most of it? I remember everyone in the temple cheering when I started chugging one. ...Or, uh. Three," the Lamb recounts, setting the pile down on a nearby table. Narinder watches them, scanning down their body for any abnormalities. No claw marks or stab wounds remain, but they would be gone by now. Still. The fact that he feels metal when he pushes his hand under his pillow is probably worth noting.

"You have a basket around here?" the Lamb asks after a point, "I need somewhere to put these."

Narinder says, "I do not live here."

"...Whuh?"

"This is not my hut."

The Lamb pauses. They glance around, newly curious. Narinder grasps at the bit of metal under his pillow, and retrieves a dagger. It is smeared with blood. He eyes it, vaguely toying with the way light plays off of the dull blade.

"Did I attempt to kill you last night?" he asks idly. The Lamb looks over. They see the knife.

"...Nnnno?" They try, not even attempting to sound certain.

"I believe," Narinder mutters, hardly feeling bothered to spare the focus, "I might have killed someone."

The Lamb looks at him, having the grace to at least look troubled. Narinder, on the other hand, remains far more concerned with the roiling in his stomach.

"... Okay, wait. Wait, I think I remember-- yeah," the Lamb snaps, and points at him. "Yeah! You lost your hand privileges."

"What," Narinder says.

"Yeah! You were doing-- something," the Lamb waves off vaguely, "Yeah, I think I remember-- I had to take the claws away? I mean. That would explain the bandages?"

Narinder glances over. It certainly sounds like the sort of logic they would act upon, in the event of his own uninhibited violence.

"...So I did try and kill you, again."

"Iiii, dunno? I mean. Maybe?" Again, they don't sound remotely sure. The "divine healing factor" does not, it appears, account for episodes of alcoholic blackout. Good to know.

So, trying to kill his spouse was one possible explanation. Admittedly, it wasn't even a far-fetched one. But the ambient stench of this hut offers another.

"Lamb," Narinder sits up, winning a valiant battle with his own vertigo, "Whose shelter is this?"

The Lamb pauses. They look around again at all the bottles strewn about. They look up. At the same time they do, a droplet of blood plops onto their cheek.

"...I think his name was Bremar," the Lamb hums.

"You think?"

"I mean, the Crown can only tell me so much. 'Specially when the corpse in question has somehow been reduced to... uh... streamers."

"Ah."

"So, uh, we should--- we should go."

Narinder growls. His stomach does not agree with the prospect of standing up anytime soon.

"Ten more minutes."

"Nari," the Lamb deadpans, "You eviscerated a guy."

"...Five, then."

[luvly-writer]

“XOXO”

Ch. 3 Part-Time lovers, full time problem

—•—

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + social media Au

warnings:

taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphantom

Author’s note: One thing i love about Christmas is all the free time i have to write new stuff after finals 🤭 (she said as she still has a few finals to finish 😍). HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!

For those wondering about “BOCM” i am having such a hard time finishing it. When my phone got changed the notes i had on that story got deleted and so i had to improvise a little cause i forgot its ending and it’s so frustrating cause i always want to give you guys quality content. I am scratching my head trying to finish it so i’ll continue this one and update slowly so that i can finish it correctly. Love you all and thank you for your patience.

Masterlist:

“Absolutely insufferable, she is,” said Tim to himself as he ran his hand through his hair. He had been begrudgingly cleaning his apartment. He was tempted to leave it dirty just to take a piss at Yn but he was sure that wouldn’t look good for his reputation so here he was. He would have hired someone to do it for him but recalling all the things he had regarding his alter ego, he knew he would have been fucked and he really couldn’t risk someone else knowing.

Finally, he finished ensuring everything looked great and sat back on his couch with his laptop. "There must be something about her that I can find. I refuse to be outdone and unprepared for this," he said, searching for any leverage he could hold over Y/n's head to bargain for his secret to remain so. Thirty minutes later he had found absolutely nothing. Unlike her two best friends, Clara Dupont and Satine Abbott, who were known to be found in scandal after scandal every week, Y/n had a clean slate. Satine was constantly partying during some fashion week or getting caught sleeping around with some governor's son or a married businessman. Clara has been known to pay off people to do her bidding, caught buying off police, lawyers, teachers, professors, judges and so, to run the city however she pleased. Yet, Y/n had nothing against her. Every article he found was about a charity she had worked on, a program she had opened, or an award she was given; and were all of them legit. She seemed like the angel in their group, but Tim knew better than to trust the all-too-shiny act. He has some recollection of them during high school though; he was a grade above them. They were known for their tight and exclusive group of three. He remembers how girls would do anything to become one of them. If it meant they had to step on someone else to appease one of the three, they would have done so. After all, having them as a connection moved mountains. Tim quickly grew frustrated. No psycho exes, no drug addiction, no jail time, no one dead, no bribes, nothing that could have stained the Vanderbilt name.

Throwing his head back, he heard his phone ring. Y/n was here. He sets his laptop on the coffee table and walks to the door, opening it and revealing a dazzling young woman in an outfit he thought someone as flashy as she never would wear. White Converse, comfortable mom jeans, a laid-back button-up up, and a cozy long brown coat. Her hair was loose and her face fresh with little makeup. Even after spending hours looking at pictures of her during his search, she still managed to take his breath away every time he was in her presence.

"I know I'm mesmerizing, but can you please let me inside? I'm freezing here," she said with her nose a little red.

He rolls his eyes with a laugh and lets her in. "I was gonna go more for repulsive but if that helps you sleep at night."

"Says the one that looks like sewer trampled rat" she quips back.

Tim couldn't help the snort that came out of him. She was an endless supply of good comebacks. He wonders how an interaction between his brothers and her would go, maybe he finally found someone to go head-to-head with Damian. She takes her coat off and lays it on the couch, together with her Burberry bag. He takes notice that her coat is also Burberry and decides to tease her a little. "And here I thought you were actually looking a little humble, but the coat and the bag ruin the look," he says as he scrunches his nose. He feels laughter bubbling as he catches the deadpan she gives him. "Whose less humble, me for wearing it and not saying a single thing or you for identifying it rather quickly and feeling the need to point it out?" she asks as she places a hand on her hip smirking at him.

"Touche"

She nods satisfied at his response and sits on the couch in front of him. "Ok. First order of business-"

"First order of business is giving me the reason as to why you are doing this." Tim interrupts her. She sighs and looks up, "God give me strength to not strangle him" she whispers and Tim tries to hold back a smirk.

"I wAS going to get to that before you so rudely interrupted me. The first order of business is giving you the context I am sure you are dying to hear." she pauses to look at him and he gestures for her to continue. He sees her look down and seem almost embarrassed. He can tell she is hesitating so he tries his best guess, "Are you trying to make someone jealous?"

"No, it's not that, it..." She takes a deep breath and spills it out. "My parents want me to marry a man who is very much too much older than me with the idea that it will help solidify the family lineage which I think is absurd because my sisters are right there AND THEY ARE MARRIED already to someone they love. But because Aurora and Charlisse keep on fighting to become the next CEO, my parents think it is only right to marry ME off to a very wrinkly and truly disturbing man who i am sure 20 years older than me because someone should continue the line whilst the other two are focused on their careers and making something out of their lives. SO, I needed to find a boyfriend who would be suitable for their standards whilst Aurora and Charlisse sort it out so that when they do, the attention and pressure of continuing the line will go back to them and not me." Y/n finishes breathing out. Tim was taken aback. Not only the normally composed girl he was used to seeing, spoke 7 words per second, but he was blown away by the information she had just given him.

"I need...a drink? Do you want one?" he said standing up and heading to the kitchen. No wonder she said this might take a while.

"Yes please" she said with a tense smile. "do you have wine?"

Tim made a sound of confirmation as he poured some scotch. He wasn't much of a drinker, but years of being part of the business world made him earn some appreciation for the drink. Especially on times like these. He poured some wine for her in a glass and walked back with both drinks. He gave her the glass and sat down. "Isn't that a little medieval?"

"Old money has habits that are tough to kill, unfortunately" she mutters dejectedly to her glass. "So, Timothy, any questions?"

"A few actually"

"Go ahead" she sad as she leaned back and got comfortable.

"Whose the old man?"

"Mr. Morris."

"You are fucking with me!" Tim reacted horrified, making Y/n laugh. If he hadn't been so shocked he would have delighted in her laughter but atlas, the situation did not give him the flexibility to do so. "Y/n say you are lying! That man is too old"

"I know, next question."

"Why me?"

"You are a good candidate and a lucky coincidence. I was going to ask Satine and Clara to help me but, that frankly would have ended in a disaster. I believe that as long as a plan stays between the parties involved who have something to lose, it will be successful. Satine would have chosen some random man who she's probably been involved with and Clara knows everything about everyone in the city-"

"Everything?"

"Except this of course, as I was saying she probably would have created a fake identity, assigned it to someone then, bribed them into playing the part."

"Much like you did?"

"I blackmailed you, not bribed you, get it right. Continuing, it was rather easy to choose you. You are Bruce Wayne's son, and even without that, you come from high society from your biological family, so you know the social cues and the ways of the people I am constantly surrounded by. You have proven to be quite ingenious as well as a good businessman. Knowing your "other me" proves you might as well be honorable too and what hero is not dammed with a savior complex can resist a damsel in distress? It is in your nature to want to influence things to be okay. My parents are friendly with Bruce therefore making things more appealing for the situation. I had the perfect leverage, the perfect candidate, and now I just need the perfect situation. So, lucky me when you bumped into me"

"You mean when you bumped into me?" he asked and she glared at him. "Careful, pretty boy," she said, and the way she said it caused chills to go down his spine.

"Any more questions, perhaps about my clean histoy and my best friend's not so clean image?"

Tim looked at her and she gestured to his laptop.

"What do you have to hide?" ha asked leaning foward.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Next question." she smiled as she also leaned forward in her seat. "What's our story?" he asked looking down at her lips, a little bit stained by the wine she had been drinking. Tempting

"Well, that's why I'm here huh, detective?" That nickname shouldn't have had the effect it did on him, but God, he wanted to hear those words from her again. "Show me why Red Robin is the world's greatest mind, second to Batman's only," she said leaning back and taking a sip of her glass once again.

"World's greatest detective, not mind, and some would say I have surpassed Batman, get it right," he said as he repeated her words in the end. "We need cero plotholes, so much so that it has to be so good that not even my family can find them. We are after all a family of detectives"

"Amazing" she said, sitting up straight, her entire focus solely on him.

"We both went to GA, so that's a starting point, we may not even have to lie. We met at Gotham Academy a few years back, you crushed on me for some time seeing as I was a year above you, and then forgot about me when I dropped out. Years later, we bump into each other on the street, and sparks fly or whatever the fuck will make the crowd fall in love with us, and then we start from there. Depending on how desperate are our odds, we will explain our timeline, but we have to agree on it before going public. How did you react when your parents told you the news?

"It waaaass..messy. A lot of screaming and crying"

"Then you will tell your parents of how heartbroken you were when they told you because you finally get the chance to be with your one true love and"

"Wait wait wait wait! Why do I have to be the lovesick puppy in this and you the prince charming" she said narrowing her eyes at him.

"Whose the one in dire need of escaping the situation?"

"Who's identity is in danger?"

"Who will be recreating the handmaid's tale?"

"You bitch!" She gasped at his insinuation

"Exactly so, puppy love for you it is. As I was saying, you finally got the chance to be with the love of your life, and the moment you are prepared to tell them, they spring this news onto you. So how dare they. We can coordinate public appearances, photos, family dinners, and posts so that everything will flow perfectly. Finally, once, you are liberated, we coordinate and stage a breakup and you hand me all the information you have on me cause I know you made copies of everything and I will eliminate all. of. it. We will just be another famous couple that got together and broke up and moved on." Tim was satisfied with his work. Y/n looked absolutely amazed by him.

"Wow...and you came up with all of that, that fast?" she said full of wonder. Tim felt a tug in his heart due to her reaction. It had been a long time since he had managed to make someone truly amazed by him in a really long time. He had been so used to being surrounded by skilled detectives, assassins, meta-humans, and aliens, that he forgot how great it felt to simply just be and have someone admire you for it. The little praise-seeking self in the back of his mind was thriving on her admiration. "Yes."

"Fuck...I think I couldn't have ever picked a better partner for this if I tried. Your reputation does you justice, Timothy, you are brilliant." she smiled. Y/n felt relieved. She was soon going to be free from her family's pressure. Another scheme has gone perfectly. She cleared her throat and masked her face once again. "We have to make a contract, establish some ground rules."

"By all means," said Tim. "I am serious. First rule, I get all evidence of my alter ego destroyed once it's over. I am doing this only if that is assured."

"Deal. Second rule, no one, absolutely NO ONE, knows except for the two of us." she said and he nodded, "I agree"

"Third rule, Kissing only happens if the situation requires it," she said. He hadn't noticed she had opened a doc in his laptop and was writing this entire thing down. He hummed in agreeance, too busy admiring her....admiring her...WOOP WOOP! EARTH TO TIM! This is a fake relationship and you are already getting fond of her?!?!??! WAKE UP

"Fourth rule, no feelings. This is strictly professional" he snapped, making her look at him strangely. "I think that was already implied but sure, if you want it written, I'll add it" and turned to his laptop again.

He felt a pit in his stomach. This was professional and besides, he just found her attractive, he can anyone attractive and it doesn't mean anything. Plus she is kind of an asshole. She is blackmailing him into a fake relationship...to save herself from being sold like cattle and forced to marry a creepy man which if he thinks of it maybe it is the best way she saw fit. AND AND she was very rude to him and has quite the attitude..although it is so attractive how she goes head to head with him. Tim was sweating' bullets.

"And done. I added a few things such as we have to have some sort of PDA, and how we might coordinate things. You know, some silly stuff that most people think isn't important but might end up being so. Do you have a printer?" She asked to which he nodded and gestured to his office. She sent the paper to print and went to look for it. Tim took a deep sigh, he just needed to calm down. He just found her attractive and interesting like a new case that needed to be cracked.

"Perfect, I printed two contracts; one for you and one for me. I also took one of your blue pens and signed on both papers, here, sign here and here." After it was done, she had noticed that a few hours had passed. "I should get going. I promised Satine and Clara that I would have dinner with them if they kept the paparazzi off me so that I could get here unbothered and we didn't have any issues." She said as she went for her coat and her purse. "Have a nice night, Timothy"

"Tim"

"Huh?"

"My friends and family call me Tim," he said looking at her.

She smiled softly, "Okay...Timmy, have a good night and get some rest." His heart melted at the fact that she took his nickname and altered it to make it hers. She heard her driver arrive outside and walked towards the door, Tim not so far behind. He noticed she faltered her step a little and looked at him hesitating. "Be....be careful tonight" she said but it was more like a whisper.

Tim nodded, "Thank you, enjoy dinner and get home safe," he told her as she went outside and went to her car. He stayed there until she got in the car and it began moving.

As she left, Y/n unfolded the contract from her purse and read the last rule...no feelings...

"you are going to be trouble.." she said fighting off a tiny smile and thinking of the handsome boy with the sharp quips, magnificent brain, and gorgeous blue eyes.

"What was that, miss Vanderbilt?" asked Donnie, her driver.

"Oh, it's nothing, Don. We are headed to L'amico, I'm meeting the girls for dinner," she said sweetly and her driver nodded.

Author's note: What do you think of their dynamic? Liking it so far? Feel free to give me any feedback you'd like.

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

Loneliness and Despair - Translation (孤独と絶望)

Please do not repost/retranslate without permission.

I have also made a version which includes the members' notes found in the script.

[Human limitations - Faust’s house, nighttime]

He is sitting in a chair in his dark, dusty room.

Faust bites his nails while clicking his tongue. A habit of his.

Faust: … How cruel life is.

He is overcome with despair.

Faust: It is far too short a time for a person to live…

Faust holds his head between his hands.

Faust: I’ve spent my life's precious time studying. I have gone to great deals to master every possible field from philosophy to jurisprudence, medicine, and theology. I spared no effort, doing anything in my power to achieve this.

He slams on the desk.

Faust: And yet! I couldn’t discover the truth of the world. None of it…

He violently sweeps the books off the desk.

The books fall off the desk with a clatter.

Faust: Professor, Doctor, scholar…? Being called by such titles means nothing. Even if you achieve a certain level of success, it becomes a responsibility and puts pressure on you. I was pushed even further into learning, and I was unable to escape from that cycle…

Looking at his trembling hands.

Faust: Learning left me nothing… As an old and decrepit man, there is nothing left for me to do. My wrinkled hands tremble weakly, and my eyes, which have lost their sparkle, reflect a hazy world.

A longing for death that comes from loneliness.

Faust: How much time do I have left…? Until I cease to exist… There is no escaping death. It comes equally to every human being.

He hugs himself and endures his loneliness.

Faust: Am I going to meet my end in solitude…? With no one to mourn my death, and no one to watch me draw my last breath.

Faust is beset with remorse.

Faust: If I had spent more time on other things, would my life have been different…?

He stares into nothing and mutters as if imagining it.

Faust: Having a warm home and a happy life with a loving partner and our children?

He smiles self-deprecatingly.

Faust: … That would be hoping for too much. I wanted at least someone who I could call a close friend with whom I could share my heart with.

He speaks while thinking back to times gone by.

Faust: Ha… I can’t find an answer to the question of what I should have done. If I had been able to do that, I probably wouldn’t be having regrets now. I keep thinking ridiculous thoughts. It’s pointless, all of it. Just near-death dreams…

His hand finds the vial of poison in the medicine cabinet.

Faust: Let’s end this already… Taking away the pain and going to sleep. Permanently…

[The suffering of successful people - Downtown, daytime]

***

Faust’s recollection

A conversation between Faust and his disciple, Wagner. On the way back from buying chemicals to make poison.

Faust: …

Wagner waves his hand in the air.

Wagner: Doctor! Doctor Faust!

Wagner runs up to Faust, who then turns to face him.

Faust: … It’s you, Wagner.

Speaking with great enthusiasm.

Wagner: Good day! You’re certainly carrying a great load… Those are all chemicals…? … Oh, I see. Are you planning to do some new experiments in pharmaceutical science?

Faust: … Yes, something like that.

Wagner holds out his hands to take the package.

Wagner: Shall I carry it for you…?

Faust smacks Wagner’s hand away.

Faust: Don’t treat me like a senior citizen!

Wagner: P-Pardon me… I apologize for overstepping. However, all of these materials seem to be very expensive. I wouldn’t ever be able to afford them. I’m really envious.

He scratches his head in embarrassment.

Wagner: Well, I still have much to learn, so even if I were able to get them, I would probably be unworthy of them…

Faust: Envious…? Material things are of no value at all.

Looking into Faust’s face.

Wagner: Is that so? With great materials and your knowledge, you are sure to discover something new, Doctor! There absolutely is value to them!

Faust quietly shakes his head.

Faust: … You still don’t get it. The knowledge gained in life is only a small part of it. Rather than mastering it, the more you know, the more desperately you want to learn more.

Wagner: What can you, someone beloved by God, say? You have exceptional talent and have achieved many successes. From my perspective, you seem to have everything you could ever want…

Faust: What really matters in life is not talent, wealth, or fame. All of those things will be of no use at the time of the Last Judgment.

Wagner: Even someone as great as you feels that way… I'm still inexperienced and haven't reached that level yet. I must work even harder!

He clasps his hand tightly, enthusiastic.

Wagner: I will do my very best to follow in your footsteps and continue your work!

Faust seems to have resigned himself.

Faust: Yes… You still have a lot of time left. That’s right, the world is full of possibilities and hope… Go ahead and pursue your dreams as you like.

Wagner: Yes, sir! But I am sure that I, an ordinary person, would not be able to accomplish that alone. However, I have a trusted confidant!

He gazes dreamily into the distance.

Wagner: I have an intimate, close friend who is pursuing the same dream as me. He saves me from despair and getting discouraged…

Faust bites his nails while clicking his tongue. A habit of his.

He’s quite annoyed.

Faust: … Close friend…?

Wagner reports happily, as if talking about his own achievements.

Wagner: Yes! He’s a genius! Not only is he clever, but he's also pure, beautiful, and flawless. He's a talented friend I'm very proud of!

Faust bites his nails while clicking his tongue. A habit of his.

Faust: How cruel life can be.

Envy towards Wagner. A desire for youth and popularity.

Faust: … You're completely different from me. There isn’t anyone who will listen to what this old man has to say, let alone be my close friend. That's just how popular I am. I don't even have anyone who will be by my side.

He gently pats Wagner on the shoulder.

Faust: It's a lonely life. Knowledge has not filled the loneliness. Wagner, don't go astray. Don't lose sight of what is truly important. This is advice from an old man.

He gazes at his clenched fist with regret.

Faust: No amount of wealth or fame can buy you eternal life. And you can't turn back time...

Faust smiles with a look of resignation.

Faust: Do you know what the ultimate dream of the masters is? Immortality… I was never able to fulfill that dream.

Wagner approaches Faust agitatedly.

Wagner: Immortality…? Eternal life…!? What are you talking about!? That means stepping into the realm of the divine!

As if reminding him to be careful not to let anyone hear him.

Wagner: You will incur God’s wrath! How blasphemous… Such dangerous thoughts… are not allowed.

Faust: You'll understand when you're older. Right now, you're young, so you have the luxury of time.

Wagner is shaken. He can’t deny it completely.

Wagner: Is… that so…?

As he expresses his genuine gratitude, he comes up with the idea of leaving him a keepsake.

Faust: Wagner. Thank you for listening to this old man’s rambling. Oh, that’s right… About the documents you wanted, feel free to take as many as you want.

Wagner: Eh! Really? Thank you very much!

Faust: … I don’t need them anymore. Come get them sometime... See you.

Wagner feels a little uncomfortable.

Wagner: Doctor Faust…? Doctor Faust…!

Faust ignores Wagner and walks away.

***

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 15 first half

uh...hope you guys like this...im aiming to finish the chapter this week

“So, with all the pleasantries out of the way, let’s talk about finally publicizing your marriage.”

You just barely managed to avoid choking your tea when you heard those words. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette stiffen.

The long-awaited meeting—or the “tea party,” as Furina had insisted on calling it—had been going surprisingly well up until this point. Admittedly, your opinion of Furina hadn’t been very high as of late, but she proved to be a gracious, winsome hostess (even though, considering this was Neuvillette’s office, shouldn’t the two of you act as the hosts?) and a witty conversationist who kept things going smoothly. She congratulated you on your marriage, complimented your dress and purse and immediately noticed Neuvillette’s matching brooch. She even asked after your family. There’s a reason why she’s considered Fontaine’s superstar, you thought in admiration.

As expected, she asked how you and Neuvillette met. You told her the truth: that you had met at a ball and went on several dates together. Of course, you happened to leave out the fact that all those meetings were brief and happened within a month’s span, but who cared about the details, right?

But what really raised her in your esteem was the fact that she actually recalled your great-grandparents’ meeting with her from more than a century ago.

“Ah, yes, I remember them. They asked me to give my blessing for their unborn child, I believe,” she said, tilting her head as though in recollection.

You nodded. As the story passed down in your family went, your great-grandmother had been a sickly woman, and there were serious worries that she wouldn’t be able to survive the birth. As devotees of the Hydro Archon, your great-grandparents made the decision to travel all the way to the Court of Fontaine from their remote village in hopes of receiving a blessing from her. The arduous journey and wait paid off, and your great-grandmother lived to see her son grow to adulthood.

“It is all thanks to you, Lady Furina,” you said, bowing your head respectfully. “Even now, my family still speaks highly of you and what you’ve done for us.”

“I see. How very gladdening to hear!” Furina’s voice was bright, almost to the extent of sounding fake. For a moment, you thought you saw her smile falter just a little. Did I say something wrong, you worried, but when you looked again, her expression was as smooth and unruffled as ever.

You told yourself, not for the first time, to stop overthinking and reading into every little thing. The meeting was going well. It was supposed to be hour-long and half an hour had already passed. Plus, there were snacks (apparently this meeting coincided with Furina’s morning tea time), which you were secretly thankful for as you had been too nervous to eat much for breakfast that morning.

Yes, everything was going swimmingly, and if luck was on your side, you might not have to see Furina ever again after today. You could spend the rest of this marriage in peace and obscurity. All you had to do was to be so utterly dull and uninteresting that just the thought of you would induce a yawn, which wasn’t exactly a difficult task for you, but…

You should have known that nothing was ever so easy.

Furina looked between the two of you when neither of you spoke. She raised her eyebrows. “Well? Anything to say?”

Neuvillette cleared his throat. He had been twirling the stem of his cup in his hand as Furina spoke mainly with you, occasionally taking a sip from it. He was mostly quiet for the first half of the meeting, but you could feel his readiness to jump in at any moment should you need it. This was that moment.

“Furina, I do believe we’ve already made it clear that we wish to keep our marriage as private as possible.”

“Oh, sure, I can sympathize with wanting privacy. The paparazzi can be absolutely ravenous sometimes. I can only imagine how much more irksome they would be if they catch wind of this story. But still, there is no reason to completely hide it, especially when it’ll be found out anyways. Now, we could do a slow unveiling to a small group of close associates first before announcing it to all Fontainians. For instance—”

As Furina prattled on about all the engagement announcements she had witnessed in her time, you bit into a pink macaron and proceeded to wash it down with more tea. However, the sweet pastry now tasted like sawdust in your mouth. Your stomach was twisted in knots. You and Neuvillette needed to come up with a good excuse to get out of this.

As your mind raced in circles, you suddenly felt a weight on your hand and looked down. Neuvillette’s gloved hand was on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You hadn’t realized it was shaking until now.

Raising your head, you were met with Neuvillette’s violet eyes, silently reassuring you. You felt some of the tension leave your body.

Yes, it will be alright. You were married to the one person in Fontaine who could push back against Furina and get away with it, after all.

“…So, what do you say? Something intimate will suffice, like, say, an exclusively attended ball where only the most elite of Fontaine’s social scene are invited. Oh, I can just picture it now—Neuvillette with an unfamiliar lady on his arm, only to introduce her to everyone as his wife! Ah, I can just imagine the ladies’ reaction when that moment arrives!” Furina chuckled to herself as she scooped a mound of sugar cubes into her tea. “Or perhaps Madame Neuvillette would prefer something more casual, like a ladies’ salon.”

“There will be nothing of the sort. I do not understand why you’re so insistent upon the publicization of my marriage in the first place. It will not affect how I do my job, and I do not believe it is something that is of concern to anyone,” Neuvillette said, an impatient note creeping into his voice.

“Oh, Neuvillette,” Furina shook her head in disappointment, as though scolding a child. “You’re missing the point. The people would be thrilled to hear that their solitary Chief Justice has finally found love after all this time. It would bring you closer to them, for what humanizes a person more than falling in love? Plus, it’ll give everyone the exc—I mean, opportunity to share in your newfound happiness by celebrating it!”

Bringing Neuvillette closer to the people? Was that why Furina kept pestering him to marry? Was he suffering from low popularity ratings or something?

“That sounds rather excessive. Would the people truly care so much about whether or not I am married?”

Furina shook her head again. You found yourself sympathizing with her a little despite everything. “Ugh, I’m not going to argue with you on this. But honestly, you’re not even going to tell the Duke or Clorinde? It’s not as though they’re the gossiping types.”

You were quite sure that Clorinde already had an idea, but who was this Duke?

“No, not even them,” Neuvillette said, but you saw his fingers twitch just once under the table.

“How odd. I’m sure your dear Melusines have all already been informed from the very start, so it isn’t as though you’re keeping it completely secret. Don’t you think that’s unfair to the humans who place their trust in you?”

Neuvillette blinked, as though that had never occurred to him.

Furina took this opportunity to press further. “Neuvillette, don’t tell me you intend to keep your marriage secret forever! Do you plan on never being seen in public with your wife? Did you swear her entire family to secrecy as well? What a dreadful prospect! Have you even considered how she might feel about that? You’re almost like a tyrannical lord from an opera, keeping your wife hidden away from the world in a tall tower.” She looked at you critically. “She does not appear particularly frail or delicate to me. Whatever could be the reason for this?”

“She is not hidden or imprisoned in any way. Madame is free to go wherever she likes. It is only that…” Neuvillette trailed off. You saw the muscles in his jaw working. He must be trying to come up with an acceptable excuse.

You were doing the same. Honestly, you could see where Furina was coming from. If I look at our marriage from an outsider’s point of view…it definitely raises a few questions.

“Oh, there’s no need to say anything more. I know exactly what’s going on here.” Furina leaned forward, and you resisted the urge to squirm in your seat. Had she caught on to the truth?

She pointed her teaspoon at Neuvillette. “You’re too selfish!”

“Huh?” you couldn’t help but exclaim. Neuvillette, selfish? Those two words didn’t belong in the same sentence.

“Selfish may be too harsh of a word. Perhaps…inflexible? Unable to change? Well, putting that aside, I have hoped that being in a romantic relationship might have forced you to change your ways, but I suppose it can’t be helped. It’s difficult to change when you’ve been distanced from humans for so long. But, fear not, I, the Regina of All Waters and All Peoples, shall help you in this endeavour. I’ll save this failing marriage!”

“Failing marriage…?” Neuvillette repeated slowly.

“It’s not failing yet, but in my opinion, it is certainly heading in that direction if nothing changes. I’ve witnessed many a divorce in my day, and I can tell you that many of them are caused by prioritizing one’s desires over one’s spouse. After all, isn’t that what love is about? Sacrificing your own comfort for the one you love? You married this woman because you love her, yes? Surely you’d do anything for her?”

Oh, Archons. She’s cornered Neuvillette in a tough spot. If he said yes, he would not only be lying to his superior, but also opening the door to a whole new set of complications that would be difficult to get through. But if he said no, well…

Either way, it would only raise suspicions.

“I…” Neuvillette was blinking rapidly. You saw him briefly glance at you, saw his fingers clench and unclench around the stem of his cup. Even taking his time to answer this question was enough to be suspect.

You had to step in. “Your concern is greatly appreciated, Lady Furina, but there is no need for you to worry about us. I’m perfectly content with the way things are. Neither of us are the type to enjoy socializing very much, so this arrangement is perfect for me. I have no desire to force him to do things that cause him discomfort.”

Furina stared at you for a moment. You tried your best to hold her gaze and look resolute, but her heterochromatic eyes disconcerted you. It felt as though they were probing you for all your secrets, turning out all of your lies. Or maybe you were falling into them as one was falling into an abyss.

I never lied, you reminded yourself. I’ve only told the truth. It’s not my fault if she doesn’t like it.

Her reaction, however, was completely unexpected.

“You poor thing!” she exclaimed, clutching her hands to her chest. “It’s worse than I expected. I can only imagine how difficult it has been for you! Ah, but there is no need to suffer in silence for any longer, for I, the God of Justice, shall serve as your advocate.”

You felt your mouth dropping open in shock. What was she talking about? You took another glance at Neuvillette and saw that he looked as clueless as you felt.

Furina continued, heedless of your confusion. “Born into an impoverished family, overlooked on the marriage market and almost forced into eternal spinsterhood—what an unfortunate life you’ve lived! And just when it seemed that you’ve attained lifelong happiness and freedom by attaining the affections of the most eligible bachelor in Fontaine and having him marry you, you’re stuffed away in his house like an old antique, forced to cater to his whims out of the fear that he’ll cast you aside if you displease him. Oh yes, I understand perfectly now. It’s something out of a classic romance novel. But do not fret, my dear lady, I shall ensure that Neuvillette shapes up and become a proper husband who will spoil you as you deserve!”

Impoverished? I suppose a god would have a different standard of wealth, but still… You had heard of other noble families that were forced to sell off their estate and assets and live on the charity of relatives just to pay off their debts. She isn’t entirely wrong about the other stuff, although I wouldn’t describe being a spinster as a “doom.”

“Furina—” Neuvillette began, but she cut him off.

“My dear Iudex, I know that the whole ‘aloof and mysterious’ persona has done wonders for your popularity among women, but that will not do at all in a romantic relationship! You have to be straightforward and overt in your affections. You must prioritize your wife along with your job. Have you showered her with gifts and compliments? Have you told her you love her every single day? The dress and purse are a good start—” you decided to keep silent about the fact that you were the one who had bought those items (though it was with Neuvillette’s money, so in a roundabout way, he did buy them for you)— “But there needs to be more extravagance. And dates! I know very well that you can easily rearrange your schedule to allow for a date every week. And as for physical affection…well, I shall not broach a couple’s privacy, but I believe the research materials I’ve provided you with should supply ample ideas.”

If you were in a more proper state of mind, you might have blushed at what she was suggesting. Instead, you felt like you had just been assailed by a series of tidal waves.

“Ah, perhaps I’m expecting too much from your very first romantic relationship,” Furina nodded, even as you reeled from that revelation. Did that mean Neuvillette had only ever had one-night stands? That seemed terribly unlikely, but you didn’t know much about his love life in the first place. “Oh well, I’ll just have to guide you more firmly. What do you say to weekly meetings regarding this topic?”

“Furina, I understand that you believe you have good intentions, but you haven’t the right to—”

 “As a matter of fact, I think I do. After all, you never would have even thought of marrying this woman if it weren’t for me, right?”

“I…cannot deny that.”

“That’s right. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be moping around all by yourself, never knowing that you could have attained happiness if you simply put yourself forward. Well, I won’t let you ruin it, now that you have it. And you,” Furina turned her attention to you. “You should not be afraid to demand more from Neuvillette. You hold the heart of the Chief Justice in your hands, after all. Have more confidence! He’s too much of a recluse, you know, and hardly spends time with the people, even though they’re so eager to get to know him. Any woman would be eager to show off such a prize of a husband. What’s stopping you? You can’t spend your whole life being a wallflower, you know.”

Wallflower. Now that was a word you heard far too many times throughout your life. The painful memories you tried so hard to lock away came flooding back. Sitting near the wall, waiting in desperation, hoping…

“You truly have gone too far, Furina,” Neuvillette was glaring at her, his jaw clenched. His hand was still gripping yours. “It is one thing to criticize me, but it is another to speak in such a way to Madame.”

Even though Furina was accusing him of being someone he wasn’t, even though he could simply tell her the truth to clear this up, he was determined to defend you and your dignity until the very end.

A rush of guilt, accompanied by shameful relief, welled up inside you. The fabric of your dress scratched at your skin, as though you were wearing a burlap sack instead of a pretty frock. Sweat beaded your back, even though it was cool in the room.

If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If only you had been more prepared, more eloquent, perhaps you could have come up with a satisfying explanation for everything. If you were prettier, more charming—someone who wasn’t you, then Neuvillette wouldn’t be…

My dear child, are you hearing yourself right now? Your old teacher’s voice, chiding but playful, sounded in your head. It felt like a cool, refreshing wind. Take a pause and look at this objectively.   

She was right. You were being irrational. Neuvillette hadn’t been forced to marry you. He chose you of his own accord, knowing full well who you were and what he was getting into, and you accepted his proposal. This marriage was temporary from the start. Reasonably, you shouldn’t be heeding Furina’s words, as they didn’t apply to your marriage.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you felt. It was clear that what Furina was truly looking for was entertainment, despite all of her claims to the contrary about wanting him to find happiness. You and Neuvillette were like puppets on a wooden stage for her to manipulate as she saw fit.

Having to adapt to circumstances beyond your control was one thing, but being made to dance to the whims of someone else, just because they believed they had the right to do so, was infuriating.

You promised him once that you would make sure his life remained as unchanged as possible, and you were more determined than ever to keep it.

And long before that, you had promised yourself that you would never be beholden to anyone, that you would walk your own path, under your own power.

Furina was still speaking. “What a shame, I have hoped that marriage might induce you to change your ways, but alas… do at least think of your poor wife. Do you truly want her to wither away in your house, unable to flourish?”

At the beginning of this meeting, you had been somewhat awed by being in the presence of the Hydro Archon, but now that awe was being replaced by indignance.

“As the wife in question, may I say something?” your words came out sharper than you expected. You straightened up in your seat, making your back ramrod straight and looking directly at Furina. Anger roiled in the pit of your stomach, but you reminded yourself to watch your tongue. Even Neuvillette wouldn’t be able to protect you if you spoke too much out of turn.

“Yes?” Furina nodded towards you, leaning back in her chair. “Go on, what is it?”

“I shall be blunt here, Lady Furina. I have no need for your pity. As Neuvillette has repeated over and over, we are perfectly fine as we are. I think you’re completely overstepping your bounds, and I ask you to stop immediately.”

Furina blinked, the flippant composure she had giving way to shock. “What?” she said at last.

“It is true that if it isn’t for your constant encouragement, Neuvillette and I would never have married. But that will be the extent of your involvement in our relationship. The only people who will make the decisions in our relationship are the two of us. If you don’t like it, then I apologize for any unpleasant feelings we’ve caused, but we shall continue as we are. We won’t entertain any arguments on this matter.”

“Wait,” Furina had been snapped out of her shock and was now leaning forward, looking between the two of you. “Don’t tell me that you honestly intend to keep this marriage a secret forever? What is the point of getting married, then?”

“As the one who pressed for this marriage in the first place, Lady Furina, I’m sure you can wager a guess. Neuvillette has done what you asked, and that should be the end of it. You have no idea how much pressure he has been placed under because of you. And…” you took a breath here. When was the last time you had spoken with such vigor? “…I would much rather a relationship where we are honest with each other about what we want, rather than living a pretense because that’s what’s expected of us.”

You expected punishment to rain down on you swiftly. Furina had been known to have people tried at the opera house for far less offences, after all. Would she summon your family to the trial? Would she throw you into the sea instead of sending you to the Fortress of Metropide? How strange, you should be feeling petrified right now, but all such emotions seemed to have wilted away in the face of the burning conviction that filled your heart.

You weren’t, however, expecting Furina to simply stare at you, an unreadable expression in her eyes. Was she plotting something? Despite that, you stared back at her resolutely.

Perhaps some other god was watching over you then, for the clock chimed the hour. The meeting was over.

You stood up, straightened your skirt, and curtsied. “Thank you for the tea and cakes, Lady Furina,” you said politely. “Neuvillette and I shall take our leave now.”

Furina said nothing as you walked towards the door.

You remembered something you read in a book once, about wild horses. Herds of them used to roam the plains of Fontaine in the distant past, but as humanity perfected the art of domestication, those herds thinned out until all the horses in Fontaine were tamed. 

You remembered the feeling of indignation and sadness that filled your heart after you finished reading and imagined those beautiful creatures futilely fighting against the yoke and the saddle, rearing and kicking against their would-be masters, their eyes wide, until they came to the realization that there was no other choice but to give in, that they would never run freely ever again.

For weeks afterwards, you filled your sketchbook with your poor attempts at horses, but they all ended up looking like four-legged abominations. Eventually, you had to give up and accept that you were best at drawing landscapes and simpler animals, like finches.

You didn’t have to be a psychologist to see that you had identified with those horses back then. It was laughable to think about it now—you were no free spirit who loved prancing through the fields. You much preferred staying at home and reading about Erinnyes, or sketching the Faded Castle.

But even so, you thought to yourself as your eyes skimmed over the same sentence in the book you had randomly taken out of the bookshelf in the Palais lobby for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Everyone has the right to live freely, no matter what form that freedom takes.

And, there was another reason why you were reminded of wild horses again today…although it was better not to think about it. You still weren’t a hundred percent sure that Neuvillette couldn’t read minds.

The tight knot in your stomach still hadn’t loosened, although it was now accompanied by unease. You didn’t regret what you said—it needed to be said—but you were worried about the consequences of your sharp tongue on the lives of Neuvillette and your family.

Maybe you should have considered that sooner…a small voice whispered, but you shook it off.

Speaking of Neuvillette, he had not followed you out of the office. In fact, it had been nearly half an hour since you left. You surmised that he was probably cleaning up after your outburst. He had said before that part of the reason he picked you to be his wife was because of your similar temperaments—no doubt he was regretting those words now.

A sigh slipped out of you. You didn’t regret what you said, but you would be the first to admit that you had been presumptuous. If you made things between him and Furina awkward, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was having second thoughts about marrying you.

Already, the gears in your mind were whirring, coming up with a backup plan. I hear it can take months for a divorce to be finalized…but since Neuvillette is the Chief Justice, he probably has ways to speed things up. I hope he’ll at least give me time to find a new place to live… It’ll be quite difficult to find somewhere affordable in the city. Maybe I’ll try the Fleuve Cendre after all. Marie says it’s actually not too bad down there. I can ask her to recommend a place for me. It won’t be long until winter, and I barely know anyone in the city anyways, so it should be fine…the only issue is mail…

“Madame.”

A voice broke through your aimless reverie. You looked up and saw Neuvillette’s face, etched with worry. His lips were tightly pressed together, and there was a deep furrow between his brows. He looked visibly relieved when he saw you sitting there with your book.

You elected to get straight to the point. “Will we be divorcing soon?”

“Divorce?” his eyes widened in shock. “No, of course not. What brought this on?”

“I, well…” you squirmed under Neuvillette’s intense gaze. Funny, now you were nervous. “It’s just that…I did make somewhat of a scene back there, and Lady Furina probably hates me now, and…”

Listening to yourself now, you were beginning to realize you had a propensity for jumping to conclusions. You cleared your throat. “…So, anyways, what held you up for so long?”

“I was giving Furina a stern talking to and asked her to reflect on her actions. You were entirely right, Madame, and she knows it. It was not her place to control what two individuals in a private relationship ought to do. I suppose that hearing it from someone unfamiliar like you had more of an impact on her than from me.”

“Oh, I see…” you nodded as you mentally re-evaluated your impression of the relationship between Furina and Neuvillette. You had assumed that she was the one always ordering him around, but it seems that there was more of a push-and-pull than you thought.

“I do not believe she will bother us much for the foreseeable future,” Neuvillette reassured you. He looked straight into your eyes. “Worry not, Madame. Our arrangement is to stay married for a year until you obtain your license. I have no intention of reneging on it, nor let anyone interfere with it. We shall remain husband and wife until the time comes.”

“I-I’m relieved to hear that,” you stammered, taken aback by the ardor in his voice. “You were looking so worried just now that I thought something bad might have happened.”

“I was?” Neuvillette sat down next to you, his knee brushing against yours. “Forgive me, I was unaware. It was only that…”

He trailed off as he looked at you, his eyes seemingly probing you for something. “…I’ve never seen you like that before,” he said at last. “You’re always so calm and rational…I did not know that you could become so furious.”

“Did I look that angry?”

“It wasn’t your face, exactly, but I can sense your emotions…” Seeing you look at him questioningly, he cleared his throat. “What I mean is, I could feel the anger radiating from you. Yes, that’s it.”

“I see…” you answered, mentally noting what he said about sensing emotions. A Sumeru girl from the boarding house you lived in before once claimed that she could see auras. Was it something like that? “I hope I didn’t ruin your mood or anything like that.”

“Nonsense. I have seen much worse in court regularly.” He paused there, before adding, almost shyly, “I must admit, it was enthralling to see another side of you. …And, Madame?”

 “Hmm?”

“Thank you.” a corner of Neuvillette’s mouth lifted slightly. “You’re always so considerate of me, even when I’ve hardly been a good husband to you.”

You furrowed your brow at his words. Had Neuvillette internalized what Furina said, even though they came from a place of ignorance?

As you looked into his apologetic eyes, you thought you were beginning to understand him a little bit more now. He was the sincere, earnest type who took what was said to him to heart.

Any lingering regrets over your outburst have all but dissipated now.

You put your hand on his shoulder. He looked down at it. He always seemed surprised whenever you touched him, but he never moved away or told you off. To be honest, you were surprised at yourself—you generally kept your hands to yourself and preferred that others did the same. But something about Neuvillette made you want to reach out to him, so that you could convey your thoughts to him better.

“There’s no need to thank me,” you told him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “I’m only doing my duty as your friend and wife, and it’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me. And don’t take what Lady Furina said to heart—you’re a wonderful husband, and I’m sure that your future, real, spouse would be the luckiest person in the world.”

“Future spouse?” Neuvillette repeated, sounding distracted.

“Um…it’s also fine if you don’t want to get married,” you hurriedly corrected yourself. “I just meant that hypothetically, if you were to marry for real, then…well, just forget it! Let’s go shopping now, shall we? It won’t take long. I already know which store to go to.”

You swiftly got up and proceeded to go to the main hall. There weren’t many people there, luckily. You placed your hand on the door handle.

Neuvillette shook his head slightly, as though emerging from a reverie. “Wait, Madame,” he called out after you. “It’s—”

Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the torrential downpour just outside.

[somebluemelodies]

DAY FOUR OF SPIDERBIT THEME WEEK STARTED BY @anonymous-dentist! :D SELECTED THEME: KISS took a new approach with this one bc i really really wanted to write an absolute soft fluffy mess and i present to you: a compilation of different types of kisses :> this is kinda long sorry guys-

Chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos.

Everything is a hazy blur. Everything. Waking up and finding Felps. Breaking Felps out and reuniting. Stumbling into the room overlooking the massive dungeon and finally being able to send coordinates, desperately hoping that someone, anyone, will see them and come, despite everything he’s done.

Did they all get their letters?

(Did Roier get his letter? The amaranths?)

If they won’t come for him specifically, maybe they’ll come for Felps’s sake.

And then, after God only knows how long, people show up. A lot of people show up.

And they’re rescued. They’re freed. It’s a mess of voices shouting, swords clashing, armor clanging, and heat. Cellbit barely has the energy to hurry, mentally and physically exhausted, but he’s being ushered along and he has no choice.

(People care. They came. They care.)

The first moment of clarity, oddly enough, comes when he’s standing on the roof, and he’s just indirectly proposed to Roier— oh, God, is this actually—

And Roier accepts.

(Were they even dating in the first place?)

(Does it matter? Anything could happen at any moment. The last few days are an example of just that.)

Well, nothing about them is normal, anyway.

There are arms thrown around his neck, drawing him back from his mind. Roier is laughing, and warmth blooms in Cellbit’s heart as he laughs alongside him, arms wrapping right around his waist as they rock in place.

(Incredulousness. Surprise. Happiness. Love.)

When the laughter finally calms, and they still, Roier pauses a moment before moving back one of his arms, tentatively cupping Cellbit’s face.

The investigator’s eyes widen slightly, heat threatening to creep up his neck, and it takes all of his willpower to try not to lean into the touch.

(He fails, borderline miserably. But the fondness in Roier’s eyes runs so deep he isn’t sure he can be embarrassed.)

Roier presses a kiss to his cheek, then, and his stunlock must be visible, because Roier laughs again, dark eyes crinkling and God, he just looks so happy and perfect and Cellbit thinks he might melt and die right here and now—

His cheeks flush and the spider-hybrid only laughs more, burying his head into Cellbit’s neck. Cellbit breathes in, but a smile splits his face once more and they’re both laughing like idiots again, holding each other tighter all the while.

(Love. Love. Love.)

…

“Don’t fuck this up” repeats like a mantra in Cellbit’s head; over and over and over again. He feels impossibly lucky Roier even agreed to let this date happen, nearly physically wincing at the recollection of all the events that had transpired prior to this point.

(Roier deserves better than him, really.)

(But if he’s who Roier wants after all, then he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to be at least half the man the spider-hybrid deserves.)

All things considered, though, the date is going really well. Although the investigator is still kicking his own ass at his carelessness, things are finally returning to a semblance of normalcy, and for that he’s eternally grateful.

Roier spends more time talking between the two of them, but it’s perfectly fine by Cellbit; he’s always been more of a listener, anyway.

(It’s not like he’s too distracted by the man himself to make any extended commentary. No, not at all!)

Roier is fun to watch, though. Captivating. He’s expressive, charming, practically everything adoring under the sun. And he’s, well, beautiful.

Really beautiful.

(Handsome? Pretty? Beautiful?)

(Does it really matter?)

The lighting in the taqueria isn’t spectacular by any means. But if anything, the slight dimness only makes the spider-hybrid more distracting pretty. His eyes twinkle with fun and mischief, and his smile could light up the whole taqueria itself, Cellbit thinks fondly. And—

“Cellbo?”

Cellbit blinks, snapping back to reality. “Yeah?”

Roier is a rather cute mix of puzzled and amused, quirking an eyebrow. “¿Estás bien? You spaced out or something; you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. Sí. Sorry.” The investigator rubs the back of his neck.

“No worries, man,” Roier dismisses. And much to Cellbit’s admiration, he backs up a bit in his story and continues right on.

At some point, Cellbit’s eyes drop to their hands on the table, a short distance apart from each other. And a thought starts to creep into his head.

(The mantra repeats itself. Don’t fuck this up.)

Gingerly, Cellbit takes Roier’s hand in his, thumb brushing along his knuckles. The spider-hybrid doesn’t make any moves to pull his hand back, and, to the other’s surprise, his momentary surprised pause doesn’t even disrupt the flow of his story.

They stay like that for a short while, and Cellbit’s adoring thoughts amble back to him as he listens to Roier.

(Him. Him. Him.)

Before the investigator even fully processes what he’s doing, he’s lifting the spider-hybrid’s hand and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

This makes Roier actively pause, and Cellbit’s heart drops for a moment, eyes widening.

(Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up—)

(You’ve fucked this up—)

Roier starts smiling, cheeks tinted the faintest of reds. Nothing is said, but he lowers their hands to the table, lacing their fingers together.

And they stay like that until Leo reappears with their food.

…

Both of them have barely been able to stop smiling since the ceremony began, when Cellbit stepped onto the aisle and their eyes locked.

Everything is a bit of a haze. But a pleasant one. Hands clasped, the world seems to get smaller and smaller until it’s only them at the altar, Father Peta’s voice a hum of white noise in the background.

It’s something that’s felt like a long time coming, oddly enough. Thinking back, the pieces seem to fall into place, like a puzzle.

For Cellbit, it started that very moment he and the other Brazilians were rescued off the boat. When the first face he saw on the other side of the glass, beaming and laughing and shouting, was already etching into his mind. Unforgettable.

(That was it.)

He didn’t know, then. He didn’t understand the little piece nagging him at the back of his mind. How could he know, when the future was so uncertain? An island full of mysteries, that was a mystery within itself. His priorities were elsewhere.

For a while, at least.

It’s a little blurrier for Roier, when things, feelings, started to grow more apparent. Their adventures got longer, more frequent. Seeking each other out with no excuse, supporting each other. The flirting stopped being just for the sake of flirting, of having a little fun. Cellbit made him nervous in a way not quite foreign to him, but a way that made him try to deny it. Try to hide from it.

And then Cellbit disappeared, leaving Roier to stare at a letter, a painfully familiar photo, and a bundle of red flowers. Amaranths.

(Everlasting love.)

And it became crystal clear then. He knew. Even if it was too late. God, had he hoped it wasn’t.

(He couldn’t take another loss.)

(But he wouldn’t.)

So, in a strange cacophony of events, for better or for worse, here they are. Admiring each other, exchanging vows that make both of their eyes glassy. They don’t need to talk about the interruption.

It’s all led up to this, one way or another.

“I now pronounce you married!”

Hasn’t it?

The ‘kiss cue’ has barely left Father Peta’s mouth before Roier is grabbing Cellbit’s face - quick but gentle, never harsh - and pulling him into a kiss he’s gotten rather impatient for.

(They were both getting rather impatient, but nobody needs to know that.)

It’s not much of a kiss at first, though, the way their noses bump first and they can’t stop smiling and fighting laughter against each other’s lips. But as it sinks in, that they’re married, they’re husbands, Cellbit holds Roier tighter, pulling him closer still. Their eyes flutter shut, lips pressing together in a way that feels nothing short of home.

(They’re finally right where they needed to be.)

…

“Espera- I want to try something.”

Cellbit shoots his husband a questioning look. Roier only grins.

The investigator folds his arms, watching as the spider-hybrid flicks his wrist up towards the ceiling, a thin string of web shooting out.

With an athletic grace that never ceases to impress Cellbit, Roier jumps and flips himself upside-down, suspended by the web.

They’re eye-level now— well, if Cellbit looks straight ahead then he’s looking at Roier’s chin, and vice versa, but his eyes lower to his love’s own. “Okay, and?”

(This feels oddly familiar. Is this the set-up for what he thinks it is?)

Roier’s grin doesn’t falter. “Kiss me.”

(Of-fucking-course.)

Cellbit wants to facepalm, flick his husband on his very kissable face, but the fondness in his heart is quickly growing, and he laughs instead, shaking his head to himself. “Que? Like the fucking movie?”

It’s the spider-hybrid’s turn to laugh. “C’mon, man! You know you want to!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Bésame, pendejo. Before I get light-headed and fall on my face or some shit. You don’t want me cracking my—”

Huffing another laugh, the investigator tilts his head up and cups Roier’s cheeks, connecting their lips and effectively shutting him up.

The angle makes it wonky and awkward, and the kiss only lasts a few seconds before they’re smiling and snickering, and snickering turns into even more laughter.

(How did they get here?)

Still holding Roier’s face, Cellbit plants kisses to the corner of his mouth, his nose, and his forehead in succession. “Te amo, guapito.”

Roier’s smile softens, eyes bright, and his husband is certain he’s falling in love with the spider-hybrid all over again. “Eu te amo, gatinho.”

[wine-dark-soup]

EYYYY WELCOME TO THE DAWNTRAIL EXPERIENCE it loves to grab you by the collar like that. may i ask what you think of Sphene now you've seen all we have of her so far? you have interesting insights on characters.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!

I absolutely ADORE sphene. she's a fascinating villain.

to me, she's like if emet-selch and elidibus were fused into one entity, except as i said a bit earlier today, that does not feel like some sort of uninspired nostalgia bait. she's her own person with her own motivations, but she shares their burning desire to restore what can't be restored, and to become the ultimate protector of her people, even if that means losing what she is in the process. with another key difference being that she's all alone, a bit more like meteion for this. at least ascians had each other (even if they were the first ones to criticize what the others were doing lmao).

and she feels SO out of place. she's that fairytale-like princess in the middle of a futuristic city. and in spite of this it's so normal for everyone. she's TERRIBLY uncanny at first. in a way it shows how she's trapped in her endless role, how she's just a recollection of memories: she has to keep her current appearance, she can't even wear modern alexandrian clothes.

to what extent did we see the real sphene? i believe her kindness was real, but how badly was it condensed to make a too-good endless sphene? she's the most idealized version of someone who already seemed to be an ideal ruler. it must have burdened her deeply, and she had no say in it. In the same way, the scientists recreated a semblance of alexandria; but made it look like a theme park, when it was maybe closer to a medieval city. (the game pointed to sharlayan for the resemblance, but like, i disagree, i saw more of the 13th, personally) All in all, she and her kingdom are obviously fake and strange. She's like alexandria-gone-wrong personified and vice-versa.

i also really loved how she kept trying to connect with the wol in particular, seeing us immediately for what we are (maybe she sensed the key reacted to us or whatever, or maybe it was just a gut instinct), i.e someone who could potentially be a menace or the savior of her kindgom; but always her attention has to be redirected elsewhere; and it culminates with wuk lamat interrupting our fight with her. it's WUK LAMAT's time. it's wuk lamat who successfully reaches her, not us.

and it makes sense on all levels: on the micro level of DT, she and sphene got close and understood each other (to various levels, but still, there was respect all along), and alexandria is now in tural, so ofc it's wuk lamat who has to take care of everyone.

on a more macro and meta level, the wol couldn't have done that, plain and simple. we already swore to so many people we would uphold their legacy. one more would have been redundant and i don't think people would have liked it. it's now the role of wuk lamat, now all grown and wise (as wise as the vow of resolve can be lol), and it completes her character arc (which mirrors ours). with the knowledge she has to keep the past in mind and honor it by living to her fullest (instead of just idolizing an unchanging past, like sphene), she's now a perfect ruler.

sphene's preoccupation is that she's too weak to accomplish anything; and i guess in a way that's *true*: she has to strike a deal with zoraal ja to survive. but her own kindness was a massive weapon of destruction in the end. she was so nice new people joining the dome were ready to merge with alexandrian culture of their own volition! and technically i would stop there saying fine, but they didn't know zoraal ja was playing with their souls and ultimately stole them, they didn't know maybe they'd wait years before becoming an endless. she asked wuk lamat to become a citizen of alexandria and im sure she meant it; but it was to strenghten alexandria with new aether (and a new soul to replenish the stock). she was ready to assimilate the whole world to let alexandria (which, again, is mostly made of MEMORIES, although it has a lot of living people too) survive. and it's fucked up! and she did it by being genuinely so nice!

i'm also a big fan of sphene's character design. a new color scheme! woah!