#like you need to know how to fumble your way through excel and word and how to extract a zip file at least

[monsterhugger]

ik it's not the new year yet but 2023 is the year i learn to touch type

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6

(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)

Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,

~~~~~~~~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.

"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."

"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"

"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"

Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.

It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.

"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"

"You know my name is Deuce-"

"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."

You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"

"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."

"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."

"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."

"Wait, what is a gun?"

"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."

Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.

Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.

"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"

"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."

Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.

"So... What happened to Cater?"

"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."

"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"

"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."

This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.

"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"

"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."

The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.

"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"

Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.

"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"

"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."

"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."

"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"

Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.

Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.

"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."

You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.

"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."

It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.

"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"

"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."

~•§•~

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.

"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"

"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"

The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.

"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."

Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

~•§•~

You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.

Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"

"I'm going to try to."

"What are you gonna make?"

"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"

You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.

"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."

It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.

"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."

It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.

"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"

"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"

Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.

Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.

"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"

"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."

"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"

"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"

Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.

Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.

Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.

The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.

The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.

"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"

You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.

"Soup?"

"... May I ask what kind?"

"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."

"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leach, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."

He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.

Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.

"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."

Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.

"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."

"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"

Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.

"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."

This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.

"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."

Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.

"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."

"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"

He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.

"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"

"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."

"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."

"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."

You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.

It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.

"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"

Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.

"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."

"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."

You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.

"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"

Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.

"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"

Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.

"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"

"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"

"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."

"I said I was sorry!"

Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.

"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"

An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.

"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."

The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.

Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.

"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."

He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"

"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."

"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."

"Same difference where you are concerned."

"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"

You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.

Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.

Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-

"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."

Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.

"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"

Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.

"May as well."

The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.

Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.

"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"

"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."

"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"

"That's not what I said at all."

Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.

Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.

~•§•~

"Trey?"

"Yes, Riddle?"

"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."

"Riddle..."

"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."

[uchu-no-bashira]

I can't stay mad at you (NSFW) - Gyomei x BlackFem!Reader.

Authors Note: This was the second half of the fluff. Hope you like it, if you don't I don't care lmfao. Its old, so please excuse the grammar.

TW: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Size Kink, Breeding, Dirty Talk, Slight Begging, Dom/Sub, Reader is black cuz I said so.

Gyomei lay under you in your amorous embrace, kissing you like he'd never see you again, listening to the shakiness of your impatient breaths as you try to undo your bra from behind. Your fingers fumble with the hooks, unable to undo them, no thanks to your husband who was creating friction against your exposed clit with the bulge in his pajama pants. He chuckles, trailing his fingers from the top of your spine to the middle of your back.

"Let me do it, my love."

With a single stroke from his dexterous digits, he unsnaps your bra, pulling it off with his teeth and smiling at you. A breathy cackle could be heard from you before you toss the garment to the side and your lips crash into his. Holding each side of his jawline, you fall to your side before pulling him on top of you. He removes his pajama bottoms and briefs, freeing his large cock and laying it atop your already slick folds.

"I need you so bad right now, Gyomei."

"Music to my ears." He tones as he lines himself up slowly, his tip prodding a dripping wet opening. Anxious hips lean into yours, allowing him to slip right into a welcoming tight pussy. Gyomei furrows his eyebrows at the tight fit, letting out a salacious moan. So perfect, he thinks, knowing a man could grow easily addicted to this one feeling and he'd be damned if he wasn't… How lustful of him. He loves the feeling of delicate digits caressing his shoulders and the forlorn whimpers that escape your lips.

Gyomei moves in closer, his lips attentive against your neck and shoulder as a gentle calloused palm rests upon your hip, the other on your cheek. With eager breaths on his palm, he decides to deepen himself. His hips move teasingly, rubbing your quivering walls just right as a sharp breath resounds in his ear due to your newfound fullness. Those same gentle fingers he loves, pushes through his dark silken tresses with one hand while the other latches onto his shoulder. He adorns the way you attempt to ground herself, trying desperately not to unravel too quickly as you take him inch by delicious, thick inch.

The sound of "Gyoumei~" falling undemandingly from your lips with each thrust coerces a "Yes, my love…" from him in the softest tone. It wasn't a question of what you needed, instead it was knowing in that moment, your need was being met with excellence. The tone of his name, that sweet enraptured tone, tells him to stay where he is while pushing deeper. Your voice quivers as his lips line your collarbone hungrily, his thumb swiping gently against your cheek, taking mental note of the flushed hotness of your skin. He couldn't believe this was your reaction to taking him halfway. You had only one word for this experience,

Breathtaking.

"You feel so amazing around me," he whispers in your ear, humming in pleasure from your breathy open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder and the pleasured moans escaping your throat. The way your smaller body writhes under his large frame and the manicured nails gently pressing into his back while his dick disappears into your sloppy, greedy pussy has the man slowly unraveling.

"You sound so beautiful,” He growls, snapping his hips heedfully into your sweet spot, pulling a guttural moan from you as a squelch fills his ears and a thick creamy ring forms at the base of his dick. He couldn't help but release a soft moan as you claw his shoulder blades.

The way your knees tremble against his waist, and the half-coherent repetition of "So good~ Please don't stop!" Has the man love-drunk on your sounds. The hand on your waist glides down your thigh before resting behind your knee and he smiles at the way your chest rises and falls while he glides his tongue down frivolously to your nipple. He savors the salty taste of your pleasure, swirling around your areola, sucking gently to steadily pull the knot in your stomach free.

"Ah~… Gyou–mei." He doesn't miss that hitch in your breath and the small whimper that follows. He knows you're close, the pulling of his hair and the arching of your back can attest to that. He loves the goosebumps on your skin, he loves your haggard breaths and the way your lip quivers anticipatedly as he traces your skin with his tongue from your nipple. He places multiple butterfly kisses to the base of your jaw, hips moving in and out impulsively while being squeezed between your clenching walls. A soft whimper catches his attention as he thrusts slowly for a moment.

"Just... Like that~…" You're holding on by a thread, feeling a familiar pressure build deep inside as you bit your lip. Seeing stars, your eyes roll absentmindedly to the back of your skull, head tilting, hips rolling, mouth beginning to hang agape. Toes curling, thighs squeezing, back arching, mind numbing, voice rising, brows furrowed, nerves screaming…

You're unraveling and Gyomei doesn't ignore the signs at all, bringing a soft smile to his face as you make a soft squealing noise. He had you right where he wanted you: Desperate for release. His teeth graze your neck, then sink into your supple flesh as the hand on your cheek caresses your body up and down, memorizing every dip, scar and curve in your body. He could hear your heart pounding and your shaken breaths, could feel the way your nails pressed into his skin, but most and best of all he could feel the overwhelming aura of love radiating from your body.

“Gonna c-cum Gyo~” You whisper softly as his hand begins moving back to your breast to roll your pert nipple between his fingers, instantly snapping that thread that was holding you together as he tones deeply,

"Cum for me."

He listens intently to the overwhelming gush of your pussy, your pleasured cries; "Right there! Yes!OhGodYES! GYOUMEI!" The jerking of your body, The beautiful bloom of your orgasm.

Such a stimulating sensation has him filling your pussy to the brim, groaning domineeringly into your ear until cum overflows from the sides. He knows you've made such a pretty mess for him based on your pleasured wailing, but this warmth is something euphoric. He doesn't pull out. He won't. He can't get enough of this closeness and he doesn't want it to end, so he supposes he'll steep in this mess… Until you both need to take a shower of course.

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, so many flashbacks, more awkwardness, more funerals, more drinking, more murder, some fluff and a sprinkle of smut too

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Life got a little busy, so I've been a bit absent recently, but I'm so happy and grateful you guys are enjoying this series so far! All your sweet comments really put a smile on my face during all the chaotic and exhausting times 🥹🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 4: Rewind

A tequila hangover required copious amounts of coffee to battle the raging headache you felt. Your eyes stung when they met the blinding sun this morning, not even your darkest pair of shades bringing much relief.

Your whole body ached, a welcoming soreness between your weak and wobbly legs as you stalked inside the little bakery and coffee shop on Main Street USA. Beau had already scolded you for calling it that, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Helena’s sheriff then had sent you here for your morning coffee run, hoping this way you’d avoid the questioning and curious stares of Jenny and Cassie. Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Hands, lips, teeth, and tongue – you clenched at the thought alone, cursing yourself for soaking through your fresh underwear. How good were your chances for a quickie during lunch break in his office if you promised to thoroughly lock his goddamn door this time?

“Y/N, hey.” Carla’s voice made you flinch and pulled you from your naughty reverie – about her ex-husband no less.

Had you mentioned how much you hated small towns?

“Hey, Carla,” you greeted her with a flushed smile, hoping you hid your blushed cheeks and fluster well. You definitely felt caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although it was thankfully impossible for her to read your mind.

Was there no safe place to quietly get coffee in this goddamn village?

“Listen, Y/N, again, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she apologized and nervously fumbled with her coffee cup in her hands, her gaze focusing on her heels.

Carla was usually confidence personified. She was strong-willed, assertive, and dauntless – all the traits that made her a fierce and excellent lawyer and a force to be reckoned with in court. It was rare for her to lower her head, so you knew she must really be trying to make amends.

“No, don’t be. Like I said, we’re good,” you assured her and swallowed the lump of embarrassment down your throat. “I get it. I really do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I never meant for any of this to happen, you know?”

You never had gotten a chance to say it before. You had always felt bad for the way the two of you had left things. Carla was by far not your closest friend, but the tight friendship between both your husbands and the nature of your jobs had forced you to spend time together occasionally. You’d meet at barbecues on the weekends, drinks after work, and life events like Emily’s middle school graduation. You never meant to betray her. You never meant to hurt her. And you never meant for your friendship to implode like it did.

“I know. It’s okay, really,” Carla said. “I already told Beau this yesterday, but I want him to be happy. That goes for you, too. I found my happiness after the divorce. At least for a while…”

Upon her sad look, you gave her a sympathetic smile. You knew she wasn’t married to Avery for long, but that didn’t matter. You understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk, call me, okay? I feel like I owe you a whole pitcher of margaritas,” you offered with a chuckle.

She returned your kindness with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well, if this ain’t interestingly awkward.”

Both you and Carla turned to Beau in surprise as he strolled through the doors of the coffee shop. Leave it to him to voice the uncomfortableness of the situation out loud.

“Hey, uhm… you,” you said with wide eyes and fist-bumped his arm. Obviously, you weren’t equipped to handle awkwardness very smoothly, either.

Beau sent you a tight-lipped smile that barely hid his amusement. “Do I need to pull out the sheriff’s badge here, or are you two good?”

“We’re good,” you assured him.

“Oh, relax, Beau,” Carla told him with an amused laugh and patted his shoulder in passing on her way out of the shop. “Don’t kid yourself. You could not handle either one of us, anyway.”

“Probably true,” Beau quipped in agreement as Carla waved you goodbye.

Beau waited till the door safely closed behind his ex before tilting his head at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You really good?”

“No!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

Laughing, he slung his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his shirt, clasping it with your palms for good measure.

“Tomorrow I’m getting coffee in the next town over. I really hate small towns,” you grumbled.

“So, I’m guessin’ you’re not a big fan of staying after the case is over, huh?” he asked carefully and rubbed his beard.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it until now. But Beau clearly had as he nervously chewed his lower lip and waited for your answer.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Well, uhm… Montana doesn’t have a field office. The next one’s in Utah, and I hate Utah.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It’s Utah,” Beau agreed jokingly. “Could always work here. Sheriff’s Department could use someone like you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You’re not gonna be the boss of me. That’ll have to stay a fantasy of yours.”

“Too bad. It was a good one,” he retorted with a cheeky smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he became more serious. He scratched the nape of his neck in an anxious gesture. “But look, uhm, I was about to retire anyway, so I’m just putting that on the table, okay?”

“Alright, good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled softly up at him, thinking it was cute he wanted to follow you wherever you went. He’d never handled your relationship so open and secure before. In the past, everything always dangled in the air – his feelings, your future. Unlike the North Star, nothing was fixed.

You had always been a flag he’d never preferred to wave.

You let out a small sigh and pecked his lips. “But this case is far from over, so we’ve got time to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, a bit more relieved at your answer. “Okay.”

August 2020

Beau rubbed his face clean as best as he could. His eyes were red and stung, his vision blurry as he stepped out of the church’s back room on shaky bow legs. He had to talk to you and make things right. He felt like he not only failed you but also his best friend. Again.

The funeral guests filtered out of the church one by one as he trudged down the red-carpeted aisle. Beau could feel their stares and judgments on him. He knew he looked like the biggest mess, his suit and tie in disarray, tousled hair, and bloodshot eyes. How many of them blamed him for his partner’s death?

“Dad?” Emily’s voice made his heart ache as his thirteen-year-old daughter looked at him with a mix of worry and disenchantment. He barely resembled the father she’d known all her life and held high on a pedestal.

“Emily, honey, go wait in the car,” Carla told her swiftly, taking immediate note of her husband’s disheveled status.

“But Mom–”

“Now, Emily,” Carla ordered more firmly and watched her daughter quietly leave the church.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Beau asked, trying his best to swallow any shame he felt down. He hated that his family had to see him like this. The disappointment and hurt were visible as clear as day in both their faces.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Carla scoffed in anger and disbelief, a part of her hardly grasping the current state of her husband. “Where the hell were you, Beau? Jesus, you reek! Have you been drinking?”

“I already went through this today, okay? I don’t need a replay,” he replied flatly, every part of him hating how she looked at him. “Have you seen Y/N or not?”

“Beau, what’s going on with you? Just talk to me, please,” Carla pleaded with him as the anger subsided, concern etched into her brow. “What happened during that shootout?”

Beau ran a hand over his face, his head spinning and his eyes burning. “I can’t do this right now. Just take Em home, okay?” he told her and pushed past her.

“Where are you going? Beau!” Carla called after him, but he stubbornly headed out the door to the parking lot.

Fortunately, you still hadn’t left, but what he was seeing didn’t put him more at ease. He watched as you put a clip into your gun, a duffel bag hurriedly packed with clothes lying in the trunk of your SUV.

You threw your black pumps carelessly into the backseat before slipping into a pair of worn jeans under your black dress, which you discarded next, leaving you momentarily in only a black satin bra. He averted his gaze and tried not to stare, even though you had your back turned to him, and he couldn’t see much anyway. Still, his heartbeat quickened as he approached you, while you pulled a white t-shirt over your head and tied your wavy hair into a ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the determination in your eyes already giving him a good guess.

“What does it look like? I’m going after them,” you said sternly and tied the laces on your boots. “DEA is going down to Mexico in a couple of weeks. Cody’s leading a task force. I fought my way in. They wanna scope out some locations tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, just look at you! You’re not going after them alone in this state,” Beau snapped, throwing his arms up in utter incredulity. His gut ordered him to protect you no matter the cost. He owed as much to his dead partner to look out for you. It was a constant debt in his mind.

“My state?” You cocked an eyebrow and snorted caustically, shaking your head at him. “Have you fucking looked at yourself recently? Compared to you, I’m fine. And I also won’t be alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Beau gritted with anger in his eyes and worry in his heart. “We’re all fucking far from fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed like this!”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” you brushed him off with a roll of your eyes and slammed the trunk shut, hurrying to the driver’s side. But a rough grab of your arm stopped you in your tracks and made you spin and glare at Beau.

“Dammit, Y/N!”

Your features softened when you saw the desperation in his look. “I need to do this, Beau,” you insisted calmly and looked deeply into his watery eyes. Tears filled your gaze and threatened to choke you. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to him. They can’t get away with it.”

His grip on your arm loosened before he let you go completely. He ran a palm over his face and carded it through his messy hair.

“Fine,” he barked resolutely, the despair replaced by determination. “But I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”

“What, so you can get me killed, too?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words rushed out and pinched the bridge of your nose. Immediate regret flooded your veins.

When you finally dared to glance at him, he looked hurt and averted his gaze to the burning asphalt below. He smacked his lips, head bobbing. It felt like you had just thrown an ax to his heart, whipped him, bludgeoned him with a baseball bat, and shot him in the knee – all at once.

“Beau, I’m so sorry.” You could see in his eyes that your apology already came too late. He was spiraling, blaming himself for Randy’s death. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-… It’s been a long day.”

“Nope, no, you’re right. Don’t apologize,” he rebuffed your efforts to patch the wound you’d opened with a dark chuckle. You felt like utter shit. “I let him down. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, so…”

“Beau, don’t do this. He wouldn’t want you to. And neither do I for that matter…” You reached out and clasped his hand reassuringly. But it didn’t feel like it was enough, so you wrapped your arms around him, too, and pulled him into a hug.

Beau was frozen for a moment when he felt your body pressed flush against his before he wrapped his arms around you as well and held you tightly. Carefully, he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of your shampoo winding its way to his nose. And for a mere second, he let go and allowed himself to be comforted, soothing warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I gotta go,” you said quietly as you released him. But Beau held onto your hand with his for a heartbeat before realizing the strangeness of his touch and withdrew his arm quickly with a clear of his throat, fingers ripping apart at the seams.

“Lemme come with you. Lemme help,” he stated.

“Beau, no offense, but you’re a mess,” you said with gentle honesty. “Can you even walk a straight line? Stand on one leg and touch the tip of your nose? Recite the alphabet backwards?”

He actually snorted at that, his lips forming a small smile. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ll get better. Promise, okay? Just please… I need this, too.”

As you stared at him, you heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, get in,” you relented and gestured with your chin to the passenger’s side of your car. “But let’s hit a Denny’s first. Get some goddamn coffee and toast into you. Maybe a shower would help, too.”

Beau chuckled a little at that, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

February 2012

Randy groaned loudly as he passed Beau the football, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. “Ugh, I can’t believe the Captain agreed to give the case to the stupid FBI. It was our case, man. We almost had the guy!”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, we could still follow our own leads. Solve it before the feds do. What’s Harper gonna do?” Beau suggested with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t know. Suspend us? Fire us? Just to name a few,” Randy quipped sarcastically and threw his partner a raised look.

Beau scoffed playfully and rolled his eyes. “Always by the book. You’re no fun,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I can still bash the feds who are stealing this case from us. It’s probably some dumb asshole in a suit and sunglasses,” Randy joked and laughed, not noticing Beau’s facial expression change as he lowered his gaze to the floor, lips pursing.

You cleared your throat behind the chuckling detective, causing him to turn around and blink up at you.

“Well, I’m an asshole. I can admit as much. Definitely not dumb, though. I hate suits, and I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped and sent him a complacent smile upon his wide-eyed stare. Then, you arched a brow at the guy. “And stealing, really? You guys haven’t made progress on the case for weeks. Probably because you keep playing football instead of working.”

“Whoa, hey!” Beau threw in, furrowing his brow. “It’s a brainstorming technique, okay?”

“Yeah, for dumbasses,” you retorted. “Did you already get a concussion? Would explain a few things, mainly how you screwed up this case so much. It’s not rocket science, boys.”

“Okay, listen, missy. We did not screw up this case. We have leads, alright?” Beau argued fervently and took a step closer to you, his shoulders tensing as he was only inches away from your face.

You had the urge to tiptoe just to keep up with him for a proper face-off. He was tall, gigantic really, and now you were left to glare more or less into his chest.

“Who? The buyer for the jeweler? It wasn’t him. I already checked him out,” you said dismissively and could tell by Beau’s frown that it indeed had been his only lead. You then glanced at his partner. “Is he gonna say something or just stare? It’s not helping to refute my concussion theory, you know?”

Beau knitted his brow and shot his partner a look. As soon as he realized what was going on, he rolled his eyes and sighed. His best friend was running hot for Agent Hostile. Granted, you did look very sexy with all that fire burning in your eyes.

“Ey, Randy!” Beau snapped his fingers in front of his partner and hauled him from his surely naughty daydream.

“Uhm… I’m Randy,” he told you, dumbfounded.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your mouth itched to smile in amusement. “Wow, okay… Does that come with a last name?”

Randy still gave you that same vacant and infatuated stare in his hazel eyes. “You can call me whatever you want.” He sent you an insecure smile with a halfway shrug.

“Oh, can I call you a moron?” you countered snappily.

Amused, Beau actually snorted into his shoulder as he dipped his head, but then decided to step in for his best friend. “Okay, c’mon, leave him be.”

“Look, just gimme the file, and I’ll be outta your hair,” you submitted your peace offering, which Beau accepted, handing you the folder.

“Uh… drinks?” Randy looked up at you hopefully, like a shelter puppy waiting to be adopted. You honestly found his fluster quite endearing.

“Is he asking me out?” you checked with Beau, a smile playing on your lips.

“I think so.” Beau chuckled and nodded. “Look, uh–”

“Y/N,” you provided, noticing him fumble for a name.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a warm smile that reached his green eyes. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We could help you with the case. We know it better than anyone. Could save you some work.”

You smirked slightly, recognizing what he was doing. First of all, he wanted in on the case, clearly having a hard time letting go. You knew the type all too well. Sometimes people in law enforcement behaved like bratty toddlers when it came to cases – they all hated sharing their toys, but you knew how to play nice. And secondly, Beau wanted to ensure you got to spend more time with his partner – the perfect wingman. He deserved a medal for his efforts.

You lifted a knowing eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your captain already say no?”

“But what d’you say, darlin’?” He shot you a mischievous grin.

“You’re a troublemaker,” you noted and received an acknowledging shrug in return. “Are you gonna behave, Ferris Bueller?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hand on my red-blooded and beating heart,” Beau promised charmingly and did as advertised, placing his palm on his chest like he was swearing a Boy Scout oath.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and caved. “Fine. I’ll talk to your captain. You guys can come along, I guess.”

Beau handed you their card with their numbers on it before you disappeared out of the station again. Comfortingly, he patted his partner’s back as soon as you had left, Randy still staring after your goddamn shadow.

“I wanna marry her,” Randy sighed dreamily.

“Whoa… Moving way too fast here, buddy,” Beau tried to rein him in. “Maybe try speaking a straight sentence to her first.”

“I can’t. I’m in love with her. She’s the one.”

“She called you a moron,” Beau countered and crossed his arms over his chest, although he kind of understood where Randy was coming from. If he hadn’t been married, he would’ve given you his best shot as well.

“That only made me love her more,” Randy insisted.

Sighing theatrically, Beau rolled his eyes back. “Dear Lord, help me…”

Randy then went on a long tangent about everything he loved about you. The words he’d been missing when you were around suddenly spilled out of him. And while Beau acted annoyed, he smiled internally for his friend’s happiness. He’d never seen him before like this.

June 2013

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke,” Randy said and swallowed what felt like bile in his throat. With his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. “Can you give me that trash can?”

Beau handed him the bin next to him with an amused chuckle. “Alright, but just remember – no matter what you do, don’t puke on the suit.”

Randy scowled at him, panic taking over as he nervously paced the fancy dressing room. “Not in the mood for jokes right now, man,” he huffed.

Beau laughed heartily and raised his hands in surrender. He got up from his seat on the small and uncomfortable sofa and patted his friend on the back, squeezing his shoulders encouragingly. “Okay, calm down. Everything will work out fine. Why are you so nervous anyway? Is this you having cold feet? Should I do somethin’? Start a getaway car?”

Taken aback by the suggestion, Randy’s brow furrowed, close to offended. “What? No! I love Y/N. I can’t wait to marry her,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I just-… I don’t wanna stand up there and, you know, look like a moron. I want today to be perfect for her.”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Alright, you won’t, okay? That’s what I’m here for. If you do somethin’ stupid up there, I’m gonna distract everyone with somethin’ stupider. That’s basically my duty as best man.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s gonna love that,” Randy quipped sarcastically and chuckled. But the lighthearted distraction didn’t last long before his nerves burned through him again. “You think I can make her happy?”

Beau smiled at him warmly. “The way she looks at you, you already are. Trust me.”

“Okay, good.” Randy nodded in relief. “‘Cause sometimes I really wonder how I got so lucky. I swear I didn’t speak in straight sentences for, like, the first three dates.”

“Oh, I remember.” Beau snorted.

“Man, were you this nervous, too, when you married Carla? I swear this is killing me,” Randy asked with his wildly beating heart in his throat. “I think I’m having a heart attack… Or a stroke. My head keeps spinning. Is that normal? Doesn’t feel normal…”

Beau hesitated for a moment before he nodded with a light swallow. “Yeah, sure. Everyone’s nervous,” he assured his partner, although the truth was a little different.

Carla was already pregnant when they tied the knot, so they did the right thing to appease their parents. But sometimes, Beau wished they would’ve waited. He could tell Carla did, too. They were both young. She had still been in law school, chasing her degree, and Beau had barely finished police academy and had still been working patrol.

Sure, he was nervous on his wedding day, but it wasn’t a puking-your-guts-out-and-jittering-to-your-bones kind of nervous. But Beau loved his family more than words could say and wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything.

“Hey, uh, can you ask Y/N about the marriage certificate? I’m supposed to give it to the officiant or something,” Randy said with a confused brow, scratching his sweaty neck.

“Yeah, of course. Be right back,” Beau replied with a saluting gesture and strutted to the door, encouragingly patting Randy’s shoulder once more on the way out. “Try not to soil yourself,” he teased, chuckling.

Beau then strolled down the lavish hallway of the five-star hotel and stopped in front of your dressing room door. He knocked twice and heard a “Come in!” bounce through. But when he opened the door and peeked his head carefully inside, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

“Wow… uh…” Beau’s forest-green eyes went wide as he blinked at you. He was rendered completely speechless. How did he turn into Randy so quickly?

As you sat in front of your vanity, you glanced at him over your naked shoulder before you stood up and greeted him with a bright smile.

Your white dress hugged your curves perfectly, strapless but with a bit of cleavage, giving a perfect view of your clavicle and shoulder blades. It wasn’t one of those puffy princess dresses. It was smooth, uncomplicated, and delicate just like you.

You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” Beau repeated and felt like a moron. He cleared his throat to haul himself out of his shameless staring and tried to recover his composure. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You beamed with blushed cheeks. “You think Randy’s gonna like it?”

Beau smiled kindly, unable to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, he’s gonna love it. It’s gonna make him even more nervous,” he replied, chuckling.

But your brow creased in concern, your lips parting. “He’s nervous?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Beau swiftly brushed your concerns away, “He’s nervous in a good way. No cold feet or anythin’ like it. He might just pass out and puke at the altar when you walk out. That’s all. Maybe some stuttering, too.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “That’s all, huh?” you teased. “Kinda like when we first met then,” you remembered fondly. “Or our first three dates, too, I guess.”

Musingly, Beau pursed his lips, his head bobbing in thought. “Hey, uh, can I just ask… Why did you keep going out with him? I mean, like you said he didn’t really speak for the first three dates. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking guy, but, you know, you’re, well… you.”

You snorted lightly and cast your gaze down as your cheeks flushed even deeper red. “Thank you, I guess? But, uhm, to answer your question – I kinda liked that he was so flustered. It was endearingly sweet,” you replied and smiled to yourself at the memory. “‘Sides, every time he did say something, it was oddly complimenting. He’s also the only guy who ever bought me flowers after our first night together. It came with an extensive ‘thank you’ card.”

“Oh, Randy, you sweet little idiot…” Beau sighed affectionately.

“He never told you that?” you asked curiously.

“Ha, no. For obvious reasons.” Beau laughed. “But hey, it’s great material for my best man speech later.”

“Oh God,” you groaned playfully and laughed. “Just so you know, though, I’m gonna cut you off after fifteen minutes.”

Beau threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Alright, I hear ya. Your loss, though.”

You watched him for a moment when your laughs quieted down. He scratched his bearded chin, gazing down at his feet and making no efforts to move.

“Beau?”

“Hm?” His eyes found your arched eyebrow.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to chitchat?” you asked with curious amusement. He seemed obviously lost.

“Oh, uh, right! I’m supposed to ask you about the marriage certificate and the officiant thingy,” he remembered.

You smiled. “Tell Randy it’s already taken care of. He doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll-, uhm, I’ll do that,” Beau said and awkwardly cleared his throat, walking to the door.

“Oh, and Beau?” He spun on his heel when you called his name. “Make sure Randy doesn’t puke on his suit.”

An amused smile shaped on his lips at that, and he nodded. “Oh, I’m on it. Trust me.”

When Beau left your room and wandered down the hallway again, a weird sting plagued his heart. Deciding it was a feeling he didn’t particularly care for, he pushed it deep down, not even admitting his true thoughts to himself under duress and torture.

He’d feel like an ass if he ever did.

Beau looked up from his files on his desk when a knock ripped him from his reverie. It was already getting dark outside, the sun setting behind the mountains. He smiled up at you from his chair when you peeked your head inside.

“Hey, Jenny and I are back from the crime scene,” you informed him as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you.

“And?”

“It’s definitely the woman from the video,” you confirmed sadly.

“We got a name yet?” Beau asked, his face stern, concern and compassion carved into every crease.

“Yeah, Addison Hughes. Husband reported her missing four days ago in Jefferson County. I already talked to the sheriff there. They’re handing us over the case,” you told him and noticed his suspiciously cocked brow.

“Uh-oh, I know what that means,” he quipped teasingly. “Were you nice?”

You gasped in mock-disbelief at his accusation. “What d’you mean? I’m always nice.”

Beau snorted in amusement. “Uh-huh, that means no…”

“Wha-… Anyways,” you continued with a clear of your throat and a playful little glare at him, “Jenny and I talked to Mr. Hughes afterwards. He didn’t wanna admit that he cheated at first, but Jenny and I kinda went in on him till he fessed up.”

“Poor fella…” Beau muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What?”

“Nothin’. I said nothing.” He shook his head and gave you an innocent smile, but it didn’t stop your eyes from narrowing at him.

“Careful,” you warned and ambled over to his side of the desk. He pushed his chair back, making room for you between his thighs. “You don’t wanna defend a cheater. He got his wife killed. I have little sympathy for that.”

“Well, he’s definitely an ass for cheating, but even you gotta admit he didn’t really kill her. That’s still on the psycho running around out there,” Beau argued, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You involuntarily clenched when his face was in front of your crotch.

“Fine,” you conceded with a roll of your eyes, sliding your hands up his arms till they locked around his neck.

“‘Sides, I kinda get how quickly a mistake can happen, you know?” he said thoughtfully.

You arched your brow. “Do you mean me with that?”

Beau’s eyes widened, immediately shaking his head. “What, no! I mean, yeah, a little,” he stammered. Your frown deepened. “Not like that, obviously. Just remembered some stuff today… But we never cheated. I know that.”

“Do you?” you questioned rhetorically.

“I do,” he assured you and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you. “Just sometimes feels like I betrayed him, you know?”

“I know. I get that. But you did nothing wrong, okay? You did not seduce me and steal me away from him, nor did you take advantage of me when I was a vulnerable and grieving widow. I’m a grown-ass woman. I make my own choices. And I chose you like you chose me. After Randy’s death and all those months in Mexico, I fell in love with you, too.”

A coy smile clawed at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you idiot,” you confirmed, your smiles matching.

He then pulled you onto his lap and claimed your lips in deep passion. You straddled his thighs and rocked against him, feeling the blooming erection in his jeans rub against your clothed cunt.

You unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper, Beau pushing down his jeans over his ass a little. Supporting one palm on his shoulder, your other hand climbed inside his boxers and grasped his dick. You thumbed his head and dribbled a few drops of spit down on his cock before moving your hand down his shaft, spreading it like lube on his velvety skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the backrest. With hooded eyes drunk with lust, one hand snaked under your shirt and pulled down the cup of your bra, palming and massaging your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your moan of pleasure was his reward as you pumped him with a tightening grip.

Both of you jerked up, however, as the door to his office suddenly flung wide open. Beau and you froze in your place, your fingers still wrapped around his cock, but luckily, neither of you was fully naked and your back hid most of the explicits. To your visitor, it just looked like an intense and very heated make-out session.

As you peeled your gaze over your shoulder, you recognized a woman in her mid-thirties who covered her eyes and quickly retreated through the door.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside,” she excused and shut the door behind her again.

Beau gaped at you, green eyes wide in disbelief. “Y/N, did you not lock the door?”

You clasped your mouth with both hands, shaking your head with pupils as blown wide as his. “No, I thought everyone had already left when I came in here.”

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

“I know! I’m sorry,” you whispered apologetically, still in shock, but a laugh of amusement escaped your throat. “Who was that lady?”

“I don’t know.” Beau’s brow furrowed in the same questioning manner as yours.

The two of you then sorted yourselves quickly, pulling pants back on and smoothing out shirts. You then stepped outside the office, where your female visitor was still waiting in the hallway.

“Uh, so sorry for that little, uhm…” Beau stopped mid-sentence, clueless on how to proceed and describe the scene while still sounding professional. “Anyways, how can I help you, darlin’?”

You threw him a small sideways glare at that and crossed your arms over your chest, Beau giving you one of his charming “can’t be helped” shrugs. Did he have to put so much flirt into it?

“Oh, uh, I apologize. I should’ve knocked,” the woman replied with a keen giggle, her cheeks blushing in fluster. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, introducing herself. “My name is Diane Newton. I’m the new DA for the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department. I got assigned the serial killer case and wanted to look through your files on it. See what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, uhm, sure,” Beau spluttered and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind jumping back into work mode. Of course, it had to be the new prosecutor to find him with his pants down in his office. What a great first impression.

“Hi, uh, Sheriff Beau Arlen. Nice to meet you,” he said and reached out his hand for a shake. He then glanced at you. “This is actually Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s leading that case,” he introduced you before he nervously chuckled. “She’s, uh, my girlfriend. That’s why we, uhm… Wouldn’t want you to think that we-… I do this all the time.”

“No worries and no judgment here,” she said and waved off his concerns. “What you do after hours is completely your business.”

“Well, uhm, how about I show you the files now?” you offered and ushered her to your desk in the main room of the station.

“Oh, that’d be great!”

You threw Beau a wide-eyed look over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, mouthing “Why would you say that?” with a chiding shake of your head.

Beau only twitched his shoulders in a comical apology like a cartoon character and swiftly disappeared back into his office.

Diane stayed for two more hours before finally leaving. You went over every victim in Montana with her, not sparing any excruciating details, and told her a little about the other victims in the other states as well. By the end, you were exhausted and almost fell asleep at your desk, your head resting on the pile of files with closed eyes.

Just a few minutes…

“C’mon, let’s go home. You’re tapped out,” you heard Beau’s deep voice and soon felt his grasp around your arm, hoisting you gently to your feet.

You slung your arms around his neck and tiredly rested your head on his warm, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat underneath. He’d always been the best pillow. “Mmm, I don’t have a home here,” you murmured sleepily.

“Well, you know what they say, home is where the heart is, and I’m going back to my trailer, so…” He shrugged and grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dork,” you quipped. As you looked up at him, you bit your bottom lip. “You introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.”

He licked his smirking lips. “Well, you are my girlfriend.” His brow then creased momentarily. His insecurity was somewhat cute, you thought. “Right?”

You beamed and nodded, giggling. “Yes,” you confirmed and tiptoed up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to seal it.

“How about before we go home, we finish what we started in my office,” he suggested cheekily and added, “I’ll even teach you how to lock a damn door.”

You snorted a small laugh and gave him another gentle kiss, this one lasting a bit longer and swinging with promise. “Alright. Teach me, Sheriff,” you agreed and smoothed your palms up his chest, smirking up at him.

“Oh, this just took a turn. Now, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He chuckled wickedly and scooped you up in his arms, bolting down the hallway to his office as you squealed and giggled.

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs – MAY 29

Will they ever learn? Probably not... 😆 We've had some juicy flashbacks these week... Past scenes that include Randy always make me sad 😭

More murder stuff and flashbacks next week! See ya 🫶

(Also I've been a bit slow with comments these days. It's been crazy busy life things, but I hope I can catch up with everything this weekend 🤍)

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[danikamariewrites]

hi there, can you write something fluffy for fenrys??

Book Delivery

Fenrys x reader

A/n: I haven't written for Fen in so long and he's literally one of my favs from ToG. He deserves happiness after everything he's been through

Warnings: none

Fenrys watched from the balcony as Aelin walked you through the castle gates. He lets out a dreamy sigh as you throw your head back from laughing at something the queen said. Fenrys was so lost in his little fantasy land he missed Rowan come to stand next to him.

“You feeling ok?” Fenrys jumps, backing away from the railing and clutching at his heart. “Good gods! Don’t do that Rowan!” The king couldn’t help the shit eating grin that spread across his lips. Rowan looks out at your retreating figure as you leisurely walk back to town. “Aelin thinks you two would make a great match.”

Fenrys lets out an annoyed huff, taking his piercing gaze off of Rowan and watching you again. He was always so charming and smooth when it came to talking to females. For some reason when he tried speaking to you Fenrys always made a fool of himself. He either tripped over air or fumbled with his words before excusing himself. There was no other way to say it, Fenrys is in love with you.

How could he not be? You’re so kind and intelligent and beautiful. Fenrys can’t help but feel butterflies in his stomach when you’re around.

A week later - on the day you usually visit, Fenrys noted - Aelin called him into her office. Striding through the open door Fenrys stopped before her desk, sketching a bow before standing with his hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?” Aelin gave him a smile that told Fenrys she was scheming. Fenrys mentally rolled his eyes, waiting for Aelin to tell her plan.

“I need you to do me a favor.” She said sweetly. “Nothing crazy, just an errand that I can’t get to today.” Fenrys nodded. “What kind of errand?” The queen’s smile became toothy and far too happy looking for his liking. “Can you go to y/n’s store for me and pick up the book she set aside for me?”

Fenrys felt his heart stutter in his chest. He had never been to your store. He had avoided it at all costs after the second time he made a fool of himself in front of you. “Erm…” He had to answer quickly before Aelin turned this into a command and he no choice. Not like he had one anyway. If Aelin already thought you two were a match the whole court must know by now. And Fenrys would never hear the end of it from Lysandra if he never made a move.

“Yes.” He blurts out. “Excellent.” Aelin claps her hands in approval and stands to guide Fenrys from her office. “And no rush whatsoever. Take your time, enjoy a stroll through the city. Get some tea with someone. But don’t come back here without my book.” She said sternly before shutting the door on him.

Upon entering the bustling city Fenrys found himself taking the long way to your shop. Inevitably he found himself standing outside your shop, dreading how he would mess up this conversation with you. Inhaling deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, Fenrys pushed open the door to your shop.

The bell ringing above his head caught your attention immediately. You rushed to the front of the store, your arms full of books. Your eyes widen in surprise at the tall male in the middle of your small book store. “Hi,” you say cheerily, “Fenrys, right?” It took all of his training to keep calm. To keep the butterflies from swarming his insides.

“Y-yes. Yup, that’s me.” Dear gods he hoped Lorcan would show up and stab him.

Then you did something unexpected. You giggled at him. It wasn’t a pity laugh, you genuinely giggled. Fenrys smiled at you. Realizing you looked like you were about to drop the stack of books in your arms Fenrys cleared the space between you, reaching his hands out to help. “Can I take these for you?” “Oh, yes. That would be great, thank you.”

As you handed over half the stack Fenrys noticed your hands were shaking. If it was because of him he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. You cleared your throat before speaking again. “Can you put them on the front counter?” “Of course.” You give him a small nod and lead him to the counter.

After putting the books down you nervously fiddled with your hair, glancing at Fenrys every other second. You felt like you always messed up when you spoke to him. That awkward laugh would always leave your lips and you always forgot where you were going when you bumped into him in the castle.

Clearing your throat you finally look make eye contact. Maybe that’s too much eye contact, you think to yourself. Fenrys isn’t shying away though. If anything he’s looking at you with the same shy, unsure intensity.

An awkward moment of silence passes between the two of you before Fenrys finally remembers why he’s here. “Aelin sent me to pick up her book. She said you had it set aside for her.”

The realization clicked in your eyes and your cheeks redden. It was silly to think he was there for you. Pulling the book from the shelf behind you and turning back to Fenrys you give him a small smile, hoping it didn’t look as sad as you felt. “Here you go.” His fingers brushed against yours. You felt a warmth rush through your body at the soft touch.

Your cheeks heat even more as you bite back your smile. Fenrys takes the book giving you a reassuring smile. “Thanks,” he says softly. “You’re welcome.” He nods and turns to leave. Fenrys cringes at himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

He stopped with his hand on the door, thinking screw it. Marching back up to the counter Fenrys takes a deep breath. You look up at him with bright curiosity in your eyes. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

You nod your head excitedly. “I would love that. Is tomorrow night ok?” “Absolutely.” You give him a bright smile. Taking out a pen and paper you write down your address for him. He takes it happily and practically skips out of your store back to the castle.

[chairofchaos]

A Brief Commentary on Fandom History, Fandom Weeks, and How to Keep Moving Forward

Before you decide to read this, please go read this thing I wrote earlier. You need the context. Done reading? No? Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, and definitely don't engage with this post. Go read it. You're done? Excellent! Please remember that I said absolutely nothing in the aforementioned post about commenting on current events. Also, this contains some swearing, in case that bugs you. Any text written in this font I'm using below the break is liable to be sarcastic (if you want clarification about something like that let me know!). Word count is about 3.8k. Shoutout to @/olderthannetfic, who wrote back to that anon who was talking about the clergy-class of Big Name Fans and said,

"Nail your theses to the door."

I think that sentiment applies here.  Kudos to you, wise fandom elder. You rock.

About the Author

To reiterate how I began my last post (linked above and for the love of all fandom, go read it), I have been involved in fandom spaces for 12 years, almost to the day. I had wonderful mentors who knew that were I left unchecked, I would fumble my way through a lot of very bad ideas about what fandom should be like. They decided out of love that if I was going to be in fandom, they were going to make me into the best little fandom child I could be.

If you do the math, I was 11 when I started getting involved. What can I say? It was a different decade and I had unrestricted internet access. Nobody was keeping me from my Harry Potter and Percy Jackson fanfics. All of this to say: I was raised here, and I'm going to scream in the living room while this house burns down around me because I'd rather be a ghost in fandom than not be in fandom at all.

I am going to say a lot of things in this post. Am I perfect? NO! Will this post hold errors? Undoubtedly. Will this post be tarnished by the inaccuracies of the resources and the biases of events recorded in secondary sources? Who knows. I'm sure some of you lived through the events I am referencing here. Your context and commentary is more than welcome. Will this help give us, the ACOTAR fandom, some context for why we all care so much? I hope so.

No, I don't actually. I have no faith in anyone, not even myself.

Thanks for that, Editorial Chaos. You're one pessimistic bitch. Oh, you're going to keep showing up in this post to annoy me, aren't you...

Yep. Back to it, Chaos.

Alright, then. Anyways, I have opinions. You have opinions. There's a 100% chance that we disagree on something. That's cool with me. So let's get to it.

Why Are We Talking About This?

Elaingate. We are here because of Elaingate, and I will not lie to you about that. You will briefly hear my thoughts on that specific issue further down the line.

To those of you who would suggest that Elaingate is over? I must disagree. 

You see, this one instance may be over, but the underlying debate continues. What should fandom look like? Who can participate, and with what content? What is allowed, and who gets to decide?

These questions have not been addressed. I am not, by any means, going to pretend to be an authority on this. I do, however, wish to contribute my many thoughts, and present some events from the history of fandom.

My hope in sharing this brief summary of notable events which shaped broader fan culture will help people newer to fandom (of all kinds) understand why something like an event which bans certain types of content, or content involving specific characters, as something to be concerned, or even angry, about.

Please consider this, my contribution to the discussion, as a form of academic inquiry with an opinion thread throughout. This is something I am throwing to the fandom for consideration. Do I get preachy? Absolutely I do. Do I stand by my thoughts? Yes. 

If you want to respond and tell me I’m dead wrong, by all means, do so. I welcome a reblog or a post in response. Let’s go back and forth, citing our sources like two exhausted researchers from different university departments, fighting over faerie smut books. I’ll eat up every second of it.

No, you won’t. You’re exhausted.

Really? Please stop.

Noooooooooooooooooo.

Are these old issues, or is this a new problem?

Welcome to the party! It's both as old as fandom itself, and as new as yesterday. ("Chaos, those can't both be true, can they?" Yes, they can!)

You see, there have always been issues within fandoms. People have disagreed about whether character A should end up with character B or character C for longer than any of us have been alive. Seriously. The Ancient Greeks were arguing about this stuff thousands and thousands of years ago. 

Source: my Greek Tragedy professor. And if you want to argue that point, you can take it up with him. He’s an ornery old German man who looked at me and told me I needed to do better on my tests in front of the entire class. I had a 98 overall, and the only grades we got were the tests.

Moving on: Dare I say, we are not special?

The real difference now is that the previously separate communities of fandom are coming together on platforms where systems for separating those branches of fandom do not exist in automatically available formats.

We face new issues because the wonderful world-wide web continues to grow wider and wider. We have more people on the internet than ever before. You interact with more people by participating in online fandom than a person would have 5-10 years ago, let alone before the internet, and that comes with new challenges.

So what, Chaos?

I'm glad you asked! On LiveJournal, you could join Communities. You can envision them as a Discord server centered around a specific ship or character. You could be automatically entered into a group of like-minded people, and never really have to interact with people who shipped Character A with Character B, if you wanted.

Another form of fanfic from the pre-internet through the early internet years of fandom days were Zines (In depth "what's that?" from Purdue University). In fandom, zines were edited, curated fanworks. They were numerous. Some were public, some were private. Some Zine editors stood up to Lucasfilm. Regardless, there was content moderation, whether by community members or by corporations themselves. We'll come back to this.

Does that mean I would never have had to interact with those evil A/B shippers when I ship B/C?

Hahahahahhahaha.

No. It doesn't. You still encountered people who disagreed with you. 

And there were slurs and threats involved. It could get real ugly.

Yeah. Be thankful we have good community guideline things on Tumblr, and a reporting process on AO3. I don't think anyone is going to try to hack your computer to get your IP address and dox you for shipping the "wrong" characters (and good grief: if you care that much or truly think that is an appropriate action, please stay far, far away from me).

You looked for the community where you fit best, and that's where you started following, and finding, and interacting. It's not all that different to what you can do here once you curate your individual experience.

Chaos, why does any of this matter? Why aren't you talking about current events?

Well, in the grand scheme of things, does anything matter?

Yes, newly-nihilistic Editorial Chaos. It really does matter.

It matters because it's our history. It's how we got here. Be grateful. As for current events, I’m not really here to give you an in-depth analysis of those, as there are other posts which do that. 

I’m here to talk about the underlying issue. To do that, we need some background. I promise you need all of this context for my proposal at the end. Feel free to skip what you already know, but please take this opportunity to learn something new today!

Why did Archive of Our Own come into being?

For my sources on this, I direct you to the original livejournal post which started it all (thank you @/astolat! You can find her on tumblr and AO3. She’s responsible for so many great things and I thank her for all of them) and the more in-depth Fanlore page on the original proposal for AO3, where you can find links to relevant issues surrounding the proposal’s creation and the result of the proposal. See? Not a nihilist, Chaos. I'm helping. Like I'm "supposed to." Ugh.

The long and short of this is that internet fanfiction communities were facing censorship from the hosting sites. LiveJournal and Fanfiction.net were getting worried about the legality and perceived morality of different kinds of fanfiction, and a new site was being created specifically to profit off of fanfiction. 

For the sake of this discussion, we are going to use the word "curation". LJ, FF.net, and others were intentionally curating the kind of content they would allow and would allow users to see and interact with, partly out of fear of lawsuits, and partly out of a desire to police morality. The cleaning processes they used to get rid of things they did not like were referred to as "purges."

In the purges, many sexually explicit fics were lost. We aren’t talking about something the average 2020s romantasy reader (that’s you, ACOTAR fan!) would necessarily shy away from. We’re largely talking about a level of explicit nature that mirrors the general content of ACOTAR. There were of course fics that were less explicit, and fics that were considerably more explicit. By my understanding, the bulk were things we now see in published work.

Many fics with LGBT natures were lost, because the crackdown on “morality” I mentioned? Yeah. That had a lot to do with LGBT issues. Others have written a lot more extensively and a lot more eloquently than I can on this subject, so I am going to leave it at that. Just know it was a very large issue, and if you want more on this feel free to do some research of your own!

So the problems were numerous. The solution was created. Now we have Archive of Our Own (AO3). (Am I saying that AO3 is perfect? No. That, like most things, is a whole other post.)

AO3 is an archive. It is a hosting site, but it went about it differently than fanfiction.net or livejournal, or most of the niche, fandom-specific sites. Very few of those actually exist anymore, but they were cool.

As an archive, AO3's role was to be a place where the fics that could not be on the other sites because of curation would go to be. Notable fics that were posted in the early days of Archive of Our Own were fics with incest (wincest started here! And don’t tell me AO3 didn’t want it because, well, the creators were the ones writing it, and yes, I have sources for that), brutal violence, and explicit sexual content, among other, much more SFW G-rated type fics. 

They all had a home on AO3, because AO3 was designed primarily for authors (see sources linked above for more). It is notably not a social media, because it is intended to store works (regardless of their content*) and not share them. (*This is mostly true. There have been some problems because of this, often in the realm of Real Person Fics, or RPF. Again, it's a whole other post, but bears repeating.)

Chaos, what on earth does that have to do with fandom [Character/Ship] Week(s)?

I'm overjoyed that you would ask me such a question! It has everything to do with it.

Since the internet has taken over as the primary fandom connector, we have seen a democratization of fandom. We no longer have Zine editors telling us what we can and cannot write. We are protected by AO3's careful non-profit model, ensuring that no one is profiting off of characters owned by other people or franchises.

It has been said that "every rule and regulation you work to enforce has been written in the blood of others." 

That is... overly dramatic.

You do remember we’re called ‘Chaos’ here, right?

Fair. Why do you insist on being so damn cheerful when you’re talking about rules written in blood?

I’m trying to keep it light, Editorial Chaos. Please just… shut up.

Fine.

AO3 exists largely because certain types of fanfiction were being excluded from fandom. People were upset at the purges. People were upset that they weren't being allowed to write work with characters being in LGBT relationships. People were upset that an LGBT fic automatically got a more severe rating than its heterosexual counterpart, just on the basis of containing LGBT content. The little purges were numerous, and there were multiple large purges as platforms decided what they would be willing to accept and what they would leave by the wayside.

Archive of Our Own changed the model. Instead of platforms moderating what they would allow, AO3 implemented a tagging system which would allow readers looking for works in the archive to filter out content they did not want, or to filter for content they did want. Instead of the filter being run by the governing body, the archive was just there. It was up to the user to decide what they would read. The user moderated for their individual preferences, instead of the Organization for Transformative Works (OTW is the governing body of AO3) deciding for an entire, diverse body of fans what they would be allowed to consume. OTW’s creators saw the blood spilled. And they used it to write new rules.

This became the standard of fandom because of its equal opportunity approach. Fandoms have the ability to self-govern, and one of the easiest and safest ways to do that is through comprehensive tagging systems.

Tumblr has an incredible tagging system. Could it be better? Sure. But you can block tags for things you don't like. You, the individual. You, the solitary person, with your own lens through which you view the world. You, who are different to anybody who has ever been, and different from anyone who will be, because no one will ever share your exact set of thoughts, words, feelings, and actions. YOU.

Essentials so far:

Hosting sites began for all fanfiction

A few hosting sites became Curated sites

Curated sites led to the creation of One Hosting Site to Rule Them All (no matter what issues that may create) AO3

The one hosting site is now the primary archive for thousands of fandoms, open to all kinds of work as long as you tag correctly

The democratization of fandom gives space for all works, and allows users to consume what they will (and avoid what they wish) via comprehensive tagging systems

So... where does that leave us?

ACOTAR is a relatively new fandom. It's boomed in the last couple of years, and that's fine. That's good. It is driven on platforms like TikTok and tumblr.

Do not tell me that the TikTok fans are worse. The grass is not burning any more on the other side of the fence than it is under your feet. And yes, the grass under your feet is burning. Look around! And this is the hellsite, after all.

Tumblr and TikTok, paired with the insane (and awesome!) number of ACOTAR fans, largely keep us apart from previously existing general fandom spaces due to algorithms driving engagement. Many ACOTAR fans are new to fandom culture. I don’t think this is a bad thing. I do think it can create problems where fans with previous fandom experience who are a part of the ACOTAR fandom will clash with fans who are new to fandom.

I think this knowledge gives us a choice. There are two types of hosting sites. Why not create two types of events? This is already happening. If we can label events as one of the two types, then it will help people find their spaces where they are the most comfortable. If we create events that are labeled as either "curated" (large amounts of moderation, limits on ships allowed, etc) or "hosted" (anything goes), then we can ensure that everybody is happy. 

She means that, by the way. She works for "peace". Ha. Imagine that. But seriously, girl…

Okay, well…

My Perspective (And Why Do People Care So Much?)

Am I truly happy with this? No.

It actually really pisses her off, actually. She won’t admit it, but I will.

I think, Editorial Chaos, that fandom benefits from Archive of Our Own type approaches, where anything goes, but you must tag comprehensively. It encourages appropriate reporting of triggering material and content not safe for minors/work. This goes for fandom spaces, but most especially fandom events, which should accept things which under the umbrella of the theme they are celebrating, regardless of the perceived morality of their content.

Maybe we can't expect all spaces to be ready for anything. We don't expect that of all people. However, saying that you are hosting an event which is open to all fans that prevents people from considering a character in a new view, such as considering a morally gray character, who is presented in canon as a protagonist, as an antagonist during their character week, or issuing guidelines which would limit an author's interpretation of characters that fit within an archetype, is not truly hosting a fandom-wide event. That's a curated event. And calling it "curated" here is not a judgment.

She seriously means that, too. In case you actually care. The Suriel knows I don’t.

An event that does not allow for truly transformative fanworks within the bounds of its established purpose (a specific ship for a ship week, or including a certain character for a character week) is not an event that is open. It is curated.

An event that is curated is not open to all fans, and should not be presented as such. I’m not going to make a judgment call and say that it is wrong. Get together with your friends and host your own week. I don’t care if you do that! I encourage it! Call it a fic trade, call it something else, but it isn’t an “open” event. It is curated.

However, I want you to keep something in mind as you curate public-facing events: Stop policing for morality. That’s going to end very poorly for us. Keep in mind that the things you are reading in ACOTAR now would have been, and are, in some places, being pulled from library shelves (if they’re getting published at all!) because of the same kinds of arguments you are making about morality. 

If you truly want more ACOTAR books, consider that, were your thoughts and opinions transposed to the real-life debate about book censorship (which isn’t really different from curation/moderation except that its issued by a corporation or government, which is an added level of intensity) by people who thought explicit sexual content didn’t belong in published books, you wouldn’t have ACOTAR at all.

An event presented as open to all fans when it is not actually open to all fans is in fact censorship, defined in the New Oxford American Dictionary (accessed via Apple) as “the suppression or prohibition of any parts of books, films, news, etc. that are considered obscene, politically unacceptable, or a threat to security.” 

Despite that, if this move to identifying events as either “open” or “curated” is what we need to get through this, then so be it. So be it. I'll be disappointed, and I'll be frustrated. And, so help me, I'll be angry. I will. I will not lie to you about that, but I will deal with it.

I love the “don’t like, don’t read” aspect of fandom. I like extensive, comprehensive, and sometimes-even-silly tagging. I like exploring things that I may not like, and then deciding “this just isn’t for me.” I like blocking tags!

More than that, though? I am tired of the fighting. I am so damn tired of it, guys. We have to do better. We seriously do. 

(Under 18s, and frankly, even 18-25s like myself, I’m just going to say one thing to directly to you, in case you are here. If you only take one point away from this post: Please learn to be nice to each other when you disagree. You, me, and our generations are notoriously bad at that. These people can be some of your best friends. Read that post I linked at the top for more details on good old human decency on public facing platforms. Complain to each other in DMs here or on Discord. Go outside and scream when you are frustrated, if you must. You’ll thank yourself one day, I promise.)

We are not treating each other with basic human dignity. We are not treating people like people. We also are not doing a good job of simply moving away from things that upset us at an individual level. We cannot expect to only see things we agree with. What we can do is acknowledge that our emotions are our responsibility. 

Community spaces do not need to be moderated for your enjoyment. If you are a part of a community space intended to be enjoyed with moderation like Reddit or some Facebook groups, great! If you are a part of a large group of people on a public platform like Tumblr, or in some type of semi-open community space like an open Facebook group or Discord server with a ton of people and expect to only see things you agree with or never encounter criticism, tough. 

Learn to accept criticisms of ideas you agree with. You don’t have to accept the criticism itself. You do have to accept that people are going to have thoughts you may not agree with, and that you will see them from time to time no matter how well you think you have blocked and closed off your experience to fit your tastes. (There is a big difference between appropriate criticism in the general environment and direct vitriolic hatred, which I decried in the post you should have read before starting. Which is why Editorial Chaos insisted you started there, to be clear.)

It’s exhausting to pretend like things are fine.

The grass is burning, remember? We’re all on this hellsite together.

So take from this post what you will. Consider my proposal for two kinds of fandom events. Ask questions, if you wish. Send me your thoughts. 

Just remember I’ll be the one answering cruel ones. Keep it together, folks. I was raised well, but I’ve got Nesta’s tongue and years of therapy to prove it.

I wish you all well. I truly do. I hope you learned something, or were able to consider something in a new light. I hope you find it helpful. 

All my best,

Chaos

Hey. Can I go, too?

Yeah, dude. Go to bed. It’s like… 3 AM and you’ve been obsessively working on this for days. How many research papers on censorship in fan controlled spaces did you-

Shut up, Chaos. At least we’re done now. Finally. Peace, y’all. <3 (not really), Editorial Chaos

xxx

One final note from my last editing round of this piece: I truly did spend days researching these topics, and reading thoughts from various points of view here on tumblr. I hope having the back and forth from "Chaos" to "Editorial Chaos" was entertaining rather than distracting. I hope some part of you enjoyed reading this. I truly do.

The first draft of this post was written not long after the Elaingate hashtag was created. It was a lot shorter. It was a lot meaner. It was a lot more discombobulated. I hope, despite the length and the occasional rudeness, that you have been able to learn something new, or consider a new perspective.

This subject matters a lot to me. In my state, we are fighting book bans left and right, and have been for a few years now. I recognize a lot of the statements I have seen here on tumblr from that very fight, and it makes it incredibly personal to me.

Thank you for understanding that for me, and many others around the globe who face much stricter regulations than those proposed in my district, this is more than a debate about morality and censorship in fanfiction. It is about addressing a pattern of thought that has real world consequences in our neighborhoods.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for your kindness. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

And in case anyone is curious? Editorial Chaos is the bitch who edits all my fanfictions. Yes, really. She has her own brain (/kidding!). And she's so mean to me. All the time. (/true.)

[papercutsunset]

Hiring On

related to: The Mayor Deviation

Here's another 1000-word schlock for @flashfictionfridayofficial that I had energy for this morning and then fumbled (whoopsie). It's related to the Foot Scene from The Devastation of Ben Baker; and the Tracy mentioned is the same Tracy who walked the Kenlys' children home (the nanny). Ideally, there'd be more internal monologue, but I wanted it to be snappy.

CW: Some discussion of a guy crossing sexual boundaries (nothing depicted, but it is discussed throughout).

I slap the phone into the receiver. Without a moment's hesitation, I call out through the closed door, “Dan!” 

No response. Fine. I’ll corner the coffee-making bitch.

A firm yank opens the Bifrost between my cluttered Earth and his hyper-organized Valhalla. I lock eyes with him and grin. “I may have gotten us a job.” 

“Meaning?” he chuckles, pouring creamer into an oversize mug. 

“Meaning I'm talking it over with her tonight. She's got a day job; she's skittish. I would be, too, if I worked for Todd Kenly.” 

His face goes blank. “That Todd Kenly?” 

“In the flesh.” 

“She’s Tracy Attar? The girl? As in, that Tracy Attar?” 

“The one and only.”

“Oh, god.” His skin goes pale. “Tell me you'll be careful, Chick.” 

“Hey, maybe I'm his type.” 

“You're not his type.” 

“I'm young, I'm blonde, I'm perky—” 

“You're going to be late for your other job—” 

“That’s a quality he admires!” 

“Because the man's a pervert!” Outrage spills into the unmixed creamer, splitting the broken popsicle stick more than it should. 

“Either way, between his arrest and that weird thing on the news last week—” 

“What, about his stepson?” 

“So weird that he has a stepson.” I shake my head. Conservatives all have rattling closets. Todd Kenly’s creaked open and yellow light showed he’s a foot fetishist with a hard-on for breaking and entering. The senator he's married to? She had a whole life before him— and now that both their lives include a son with some major rage issues and a weirdly tall hick stepsister. Go figure. “You man the phones; I'll go make some money to cover my rent; and we will see what comes of Todd Kenly, right?” 

“Yeah,” Dan sighs, mug at his lips. “I suppose we will.” 

“Good. Now— I am gonna be late for work.” Gill has never once cared. I do. “I'll see you at four.” 

“See you at four. I'll be here. Doing my job.”

“Playing sudoku. Thinking about your wife.” 

“No sudoku. I'm doing crosswords today.” 

“Oh, my apologies.” I wave him off haphazardly as I eyeroll out the door. He waves goodbye in the same fluid moment. 

On my way out, I almost bump into someone. She’s not just any woman. The sunglasses despite the rainy northern California weather, the habitual athleisure zipped up to cover her new-fashioned garments like the hip, down-to-it Mormon she pretends she is, the brown hair pulled up and back in a swinging ponytail, the clinking cup of water, the perpetual flicker of anger behind her eyes— I’d know Senator Rosanna Kenly anywhere. 

“Jesus, it’s just a day for the Kenlys,” I chuckle, pulling the door open wider to let her in. “Sorry about that. I was heading out.” 

“No you weren’t,” she decides. 

“I… was, actually. I have to go to… work.” 

“For Gill Spellmeyer? No you don’t. As much…” The door closes; she looks at Dan over the top of her sunglasses, leaking disapproval. “As much as I’m sure Daniel Donovan is the more competent of the two left here, this requires your touch.” 

“I didn’t know we were notorious enough for people to know I’m incompetent.” I keep buttoning up my dark-gray work shirt. “Unless you’re going to pay double my rate, I’m going to Whispermart. Sorry, Senator. Dan’s an excellent investigator. I’ll be happy to edit his work.” 

“Is that how you operate? One investigates, one edits?” 

“Yeah, actually. Did you have something you needed me to do, or…” 

Ignoring that, with her ponytail swinging, she strides toward my office. I gesture desperately to Dan. Behind the mug obscuring his face, he shrugs and goes back to rearranging whatever papers he was holding. 

“I told you,” I groan, following her, “I have to go. Could you come back tomorrow?”

“No. I’m a busy woman.” 

“I’m also busy!” 

“Not busy enough, it would seem. This office is a wreck.” Her upper lip curls with distaste.

Sighing, I decide to let it go; I move some of the files from a chair to the floor by my desk; I don’t sit. 

Huffing, like the move I made should have been done in the first place and it’s so easy to keep a space clean, she sits, crosses her legs at the knees, and looks at me with a cool impatience I can’t stomach. 

Picking up my notepad again, I click my pen. “What can I do for you, Senator Kenly? Aside from charging you double, I mean?” 

“I’d love for you to dig up anything on my husband that you can.” 

“Jesus Christ. What kind of information?” 

“The sexual kind.” She leans back, so collected I think she might be stamps. “He was a serial cheater, and we all know what a pervert he was. It didn’t start and end with that poor girl’s socks-and-underwear. I want to know what else there was.”

“Perfectly understandable.” Two connected cases at once. Shit. How do I guard the lines on this one? “Didn’t the two of you have some sort of agreement?” 

“He was allowed to do things within a certain bound, yes. I’ll determine what was outside of it.” 

“I suppose that’s not my job, right. I just find the facts.” Sighing, I scrawl FIND HIS PERV SHIT. “Forgive my prying, but did he have any specific proclivities?” 

“Feet. Menstrual blood. Boots.” She gives me that same cool stare; the world is burning behind her eyes. “I could hear you through the door, you know. You weren’t wrong. He has a thing for blondes.” 

“Good to know, I guess.” 

“I chose you on purpose.” 

“Sending a lamb to the wolves?” 

“Charlotte Darwin? A lamb?” She laughs. “Please. We all know what you did to Essie Miranda.” 

She doesn’t know anything about me. I keep the boiling water under my skin; I dig the ballpoint into my paper. “Why do you want me to investigate Todd Kenly?”

“Easy.” She uncrosses her legs and leans forward toward me. “I want to divorce him.” 

[transandersrights]

Hey Leo! Hope you're having an excellent Friday. For DADWC this week, how's about something Handers-y, maybe based around the lyrics "The city is painted with memory / the water will never run clear / the birds and the bees and the flowers and trees / they know that we've both been here" (from The Beths song 'Expert in a Dying Field) Have fun!

(I take prompts! See info here)

Ty for the prompt and the lovely song! I used the lyrics and wrote 1.1k of m!Handers fluff for @dadrunkwriting. No trees were harmed in the making of this fic

“Wait, we’re really—” Hawke couldn’t help it; the laughter spilled from his lips as he looked at the dagger (where did Anders get that? He didn’t need a knife to defend himself, and Hawke had never seen him use one) and then at the tree. “I’m not saying no, but Maker, Anders, that’s the kind of thing I used to think about doing ten years ago.”

Anders pouted. “Does that mean I need to convince you?” He said it so playfully. Like he hadn’t already blatantly buttered Hawke up with the trek up out of Kirkwall and the painstakingly picked date spot and the food (a gift from a grateful patient, he knew, because Bodahn hadn’t reported any kitchen mishaps lately).

All leading up to this: a knife and the gnarled bark of a tree that watched over Kirkwall with all the benevolence the Gallows statues couldn’t manage. The confession of a childish fantasy Anders had clawed out of every life-long disappointment.

“No, not at all.” There was something romantic about it all — Hawke had been allowed to date when he was a teenager, mostly because his parents didn’t believe in stopping him, but that didn’t mean he had. He’d certainly never had anyone like Anders. Never anyone he’d dream of overlooking his home with and carving a symbol of their future into something that would live longer than both of them. “Do you want to start, or should I?”

Anders looked down at the knife in his hands, a sheepish smile spreading over his face. “Do you know how to carve?”

A giggle escaped Hawke’s chest, and Anders’ expression turned ever so slightly embarrassed, an adorable flush spreading over his cheeks. “Never change, Anders.” He held out his hand for the knife and Anders relinquished it easily, his fingertips lingering against Hawke’s for just a moment when he passed it over.

Hawke shuffled slightly towards the tree, trying to pick out a good spot. Needed to find somewhere the bark was thick, not too close to anything that would actually damage it. It would be a really bad omen for whatever this was if they managed to kill the tree with a promise (and besides, Merrill would shout at them both if she found out, and she’d be right to). Finding a likely spot, Hawke took a moment to size it and the knife up.

It was pretty sharp; definitely the tool of someone’s trade. Had Anders pilfered it from a mugger in Darktown? Whoever its original owner, they’d kept it sharp and well-cared for, even if the handle was simple and wrapped in battered leather. It was bought for smaller hands than Hawke’s — Carta? — but it would work.

“Well, here we go.” Hawke offered Anders a smile, returned in a dazzlingly beautiful mirror on Anders' own face, and brought the knife to the wood in a shallow line. The wood resisted, but not too much; the first line was easy, the second even more so. The third… ended a little slanted, making a decidedly wonky ‘H’, but it worked. “Your turn.”

Hawke accompanied his words with a kiss, passing the knife over as he did. Anders fumbled with it for a moment, hand taking a while to close over the handle. “I’m blaming that on you being distracting,” he complained, but his tone stayed light. “You might have to guide me through this one.”

Oh, this was getting excessive, and Hawke was absolutely going to keep playing along if Anders was so keen on this little game. There was no way at all that Anders was this bad with a knife, even if he’d never wielded one in combat. “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“Maybe in a moment,” Anders confessed. “Give me a chance to get it right, though. Am I holding it okay?”

Hawke glanced at his hand. There really wasn’t an incorrect way to hold a knife unless you were trying. Fortunately, he was in fact holding the knife in a perfectly normal way. “You’re good,” he said. “I promise you, this isn’t that hard.”

“Sure, say that now.” Anders inched towards the tree, eyeing it almost warily. It was funny — sometimes, Anders was the most confident person Hawke knew. Sometimes it was more like this. “You might not feel the same when I produce the wonkiest letter known to man.”

“Just give it a shot,” Hawke said, laying what he hoped was a comforting hand on Anders’ shoulder. “You wanted to do this, right?”

Anders nodded. “I guess we can fix it if the first cut is bad.”

Hawke was almost tempted to point out that it was just a handful of marks with a knife in the bark of a tree, but he knew that wasn’t what this meant. Not to him and certainly not to Anders. “We can. So go on.”

Anders swallowed, staring at the trunk for a moment longer. He leaned in, making a tentative cut. He grimaced, then went back in a little deeper until an uneven diagonal line appeared next to the H. “This… isn’t that hard, huh?”

“Nope.” Hawke popped the p, waiting for Anders to finish off. His confidence in the knife restored, he made the other two cuts quickly, his hand steady. When he was done, he turned to Hawke with a grin that vastly outsized the triviality of what they’d done. In all fairness, Hawke returned it with exactly the same brightness. “There! Now we’re in the tree forever.”

“And the land will remember.” Anders smiled wider. “No matter what happens.”

His gaze didn’t drift back to the city, but Hawke knew what he was thinking about. It was hard to feel the walls closing in on them in the same way out here, but that didn’t mean the problems weren’t still there. Once this day was over, when they left this piece of joy behind, they’d be right back where they started.

Except… Hawke let his hand rest on Anders’, taking the knife back. When their fingers knocked together, it still felt like sparks shot up his arm, just like the first time they ever touched. The last bit was much harder than a series of straight lines, and it ended up looking decidedly wonky, but it was recognisable enough that Anders took one look at the heart carved into the bark and burst into laughter lighter than Hawke had heard in almost all the time he’d known him.

“I love you too,” he said, leaning to rest his head on Hawke’s shoulder, and he knew they had a little longer to just enjoy themselves. They deserved this much, at least.

[skylarmoon71]

Eobard Thawne - (Flash) AU Chapter 5

For the next couple of weeks, you’re distant. You’d confided in Iris and asked if they could all just give you space to figure out what was happening. You couldn’t deal with any more surprises right now. You were barely keeping it together managing a college class. Luckily this version of you kept excellent notes.

“Just saying that sounds crazy.”

There is no other version of you. It’s obvious that your decision has created a new reality. So while they believe they were with someone this entire time, it’s just the end product of the universe filling a hole.

After a day of fumbling around in the class, you were finally relieved. Teaching was a lot harder than it looked. You’re packing up your items when you hear the door open.

“I’m sorry the class is over.” You advise.

“I’m aware.”

The familiar voice of Joe West has you lifting your head. He walks down the short flight of steps, and you swallow.

A part of you had been keeping a distance because these aren’t the people you know. You thought that if you stay away, then maybe you wouldn’t have to think about the pain you experience every time you remember that you may never see your friends again.

Joe is standing right in front of you now. You take a step back.

“I should have come to see you sooner. When Iris told me you needed time I lectured myself to stay away. I guess the paternal side won.” He gives a short laugh and you swallow. You aren’t sure what to say.

How to feel.

“I understand that everything is different. But regardless of the timeline, I’ll always be there for you. You’re my daughter (Y/N). I love you, we all do.”

Hearing those words sort of break you on the inside. You speed away in a flash of pink sparks. Joe looks around, running a hand over his head.

Your running only halts when you get to an abandoned warehouse.

You scream.

“DAMN IT!!!”

Why were you being punished like this?

What had you done to deserve this?

All you wanted was to help Barry and the others survive. You wanted to help. But being here was painful. The constant reminder that you were alone, even surrounded by different versions of the people that you love.

Even Joe West here was the same. It appears that he’d taken the mantle of raising you the same way your reality of him had.

Although you’d met Joe later in your life, he was there for you. So many times when you were struggling or needed inspiration. When a fight had gone wrong. Joe stepped in to be a voice of reason for everyone. He was an extraordinary man. In every reality it seems. You laugh through the tears of the irony of your situation. It’s ridiculous to get so emotional. At least in this reality all your friends weren’t your enemies.

Life could be worse.

You wipe your eyes, walking around in a circle to calm yourself down.

It was reckless running out like that.

Your head turns when you see the familiar streaks of red.

“(Y/N) are you alright!! Joe called and he said that you were..”

His words die down when he stops rambling. Taking in your state. He keeps his distance. Eobard pulls himself together. He finally gets a proper breath.

“Is everything okay?” His tone is much calmer.

“I’m okay. Seeing him so suddenly was just a lot to process. But I’m fine.” Eobard nods.

“I understand.”

He looks around.

“Do you..do you want to walk back with me?” His hesitancy isn’t what you expect. Every time you look at his face, you sort of prepare yourself for that devious smile. Those red eyes. But each time, all you can see is care and worry. It leaves your mind in disarray.

How was it possible for you to not see a killer when you looked at him?

It’s not easy.

“I’ll walk back with you.” Your tone is soft.

“Alright.” He turns a bit slowly, walking and you follow behind. You’re still a couple paces behind him. But he can hear your steps, so he’s relieved.

With all the change that you’ve encountered, a part of you is curious about your relationship.

“What were we to each other?” His body grows stiff, and his pace slows just a little.

“What do you mean?”

“Are we just friends?”

You want to know more. Because it may be the first step in figuring this out. In the event that you can’t get back, you’ll need to find a way to live here and not have a constant panic.

“Why do you think we were more than friends?”

“Because of the way you keep looking at me.”

He stops, and so do you. Eobard turns.

Maybe this is why you’ve been so unnerved. This man is wearing the face of the person you’ve hated for so long. Yet everytime he looks at you, there’s no hate. Just warmth.

“Would it make much of a difference? We were enemies as far as you remember. What good would it do if I told you more.”

“I’m not sure.” To be honest you’re just reaching. It’s possible that he doesn’t have that type of relationship.

“Just forget that I-”

He’s right in front of you, and you jolt. When his hand lays on your cheek, every part of you freezes.

“It would be stupid for me to hope for more when you can barely be within two feet of me without looking like I’ll strike you down.”

You gulp.

You’re scared, maybe terrified. Your heart is going far too quickly.

But you can’t truly differentiate why.

He’s proven that he means no harm. But your body is conditioned to fear that face.

His face.

“If I were in love with you would that make a difference?”

It sounds like a plea.

He knows it’s a bad idea. You look so startled, but he can’t help himself. He’s spent years pining after you. Hoping for more. Just recently he thought he’d made progress. The both of you grew closer. But now that all has fallen away and it hurts. So is it not justified that he should be just a bit selfish? He leans in, nothing but his racing heart in his ears.

His lips press gently to yours.

He expects you to push him away. Punch him. Slap him. Something. But for the first few seconds, you don’t move. He’s not even certain that you’re breathing.

Just as he decides to pull away and save face, your hands move down his shoulder. You lightly grip the lapels of his coat, and you reciprocate the kiss. He’s anything if not surprised. You lean into him, and his arms wrap around your waist.

“Is this real..?”

He’s not certain. But it feels that way.

Your lips part for the split of a second, and he can’t seem to stop himself. He deepens the kiss. Unsteady hands venture around his neck and into his hair.

“How does she know..”

That’s a weak spot, because when you tug lightly, he moans.

Eobard is the one to pull back. You’re both equally as winded.

There is still a bit of chaos in your eyes. But behind that he can see the silent plea.

“Please don’t break me..”

You don’t say those words, he can read it from the vulnerability in your eyes.

“I won’t hurt you.”

He says aloud. You say nothing, just hug him.

It’s possible that you’re still lost, terribly confused. But you’re putting your faith in his words, and it makes him feel happier than he ever thought he would feel.

He just holds you, because at that moment. You both need it.

[yellowsugarwords]

heyy:)

I've been going through your old posts bc you have such an excellent writing style and I found your "how they’d react to getting into an argument that breaks them and their partner up" post. I've been in a pretty angsty mood lately so maybe if you can could you make something similar to this but now in the redo the Ericson kids' (ex) partner seems to be unfazed by this break-up (as if their relationship meant nothing) and how the Ericson kids would react to this Thanks in advance<3

OOO THE DRAMA IS HOT TODAY I hope you enjoy the angst lol. and thank you for being so sweet about my writing omg ;-; 💛

here is the link to the previous post they’re referring to!

Marlon: Marlon would try to act un-phased but wouldn’t be able to. He kept glancing Y/N’s way, wondering what they were thinking, debating if they missed him at all. They seemed fine, as though everything was business as normal/. They even smiled more than they did a mere week ago. Were they really that happy with him gone? He retired to isolate himself from the others, thinking and wallowing in his sadness. Every now and then, he would take out his aggression by shooting arrows or chopping wood. He had too much angry energy he needed to release.

Louis: Louis tried to crack jokes and brush it off whenever his friends swung by to chat with him, but inside, his heart was shattered on the floor. He hated knowing they were happily wandering through every day un-phased by him leaving their life for good. Did he matter that little to them when they were dating? His friends would occasionally ask and he would quickly brush it off and crack a joke, making no one the wiser. He didn’t want anyone to worry. Well, he wanted Y/N to worry, but they didn’t seem to care anymore.

Violet: Violet would act as though she was un-phased, waving her hands and dismissing anyone who darted to accuse her of acting differently. She was extra on-edge and hostile these days. Everyone knew why, but tip-toed around the subject. She was one wrong word from being set off for good. Violet hated seeing how happy Y/N was. She wanted to be passive aggressive toward them, but she couldn’t. Deep down, she still cared, so she bottled it all up and took it out elsewhere.

Mitch: Mitch tried to show he cared as equally as they did, meaning not a lot. Y/N was acting happier than ever and seemed to be doing chores as per usual. If he hadn’t known, he never would’ve expected anything was wrong. He tried to avoid them as much as he could, not wanting to pay them any mind, but snuck glances whenever he was sure they weren’t looking and couldn’t catch him. He couldn’t believe they were this fine. Did they feel like this the whole time they were together? The thought made his heart sink, and his bitterness turn into sorrow.

Aasim: Aasim would feel like garbage, but seeing how happy Y/N was without him around? It made him feel atrocious. The worst he’d felt in years. Seeing them happy and carefree was like a knife to the gut. It took everything out of him to wander around every day, being in their presence, seeing them total unphased about losing him. Every day was agonizing. Marlon always said time would heal all wounds, but Aasim thought time was taking way too long.

Ruby: Ruby would be devastated. While she tried to fake smiles and force a kind demeanor, whenever any Ericson kid saw through it, she broke down. “I just wish they acted like they missed me,” she would confess, a mess of emotions and pain. She was devastated knowing how happy they seemed with her out of their life. “They barely waited a day before acting happy,” she fumbled out. “Did I really make them feel that terrible?”

Omar: Omar would keep to himself, being quiet and distant. When friends checked in, he forced a smile and brushed them off. The last thing he wanted was anyone getting worried over him. Y/N was the one person he was hoping would notice, but they were in their own world. They were laughing, doing chores, hanging out with the Ericson kids for fun. They looked happier than they’d been in a long time. Omar couldn’t help but worry if he was the one who had made them miserable.

Brody: Brody felt like a shell of who she used to be. Meanwhile, Y/N was acting like a whole new personal; thriving, chatty, and happy. It was devastating to see. Brody didn’t want them to be miserable - she never did - but they were so happy with her gone, it was agony to see their joy. Normally, Brody kept to herself, hiding out in her room whenever she could, crying as her chest tightened around her heart. She just wanted them to care, was that too much to ask?

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

[urwendii]

somewhere east of the Cape of Forochel...

"It's cold." Mairon points out as he dips a hand in the water of the Bay of Forochel. Autumn has neared its end and around them the grass has started to be frosted over in the mornings. 

"Nevermind cold, it is icy. You go with Ossë and I will keep guard on the shore." 

"From what?" he replies as he shifts his bag higher on his shoulder. By his side Maedhros’ face is pulled in a grimace, his hand fumbling with the clasp of his fur-lined cloak.

"I don't know. Orcs, spiders, wolves, you name it." The Noldo rasps sourly, throwing his bedroll on the floor and crouching to gather dried wood to start a fire. 

"Are those still around though?" Ossë calls out, half his body immersed in the sea, the  cerulean blue scales of his fins distorted through the near frozen waters. 

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Excellent point that you make.” with a smirk that Maedhros now knows all too well, and a flick of his merman tail Ossë swims the small distance to the shores where both him and Mairon sat on. 

“Mairon, didn't you say all the lovely creatures you created during your Evil Lord phase - you were that bored weren't you? Don't throw seaweeds at me. I eat those at breakfast, no it's tasty you should try, anyway didn't you say yours should have been destroyed after the Unmaking of the Ring?"

"No need to air quote this." Mairon glowers at Ossë currently making exaggerated gestures to illustrate his words.

"I think there's a high need for it but you haven't answered me."

The stony face of the former second Dark Lord only serves to widen Ossë’s smirk as he throws himself back in the sea and sends waves crashing at their feet. Maedhros hisses in displeasure when seawater drops fall on his careful arrangement of branches. 

“Beleriand is beyond my reach,” he mumbles, throwing a steely glare to the two Maiar “Unless you can provide a way for me to breathe underwater I will remain on shore.”

“I don’t want to go near the ruins of Angband by myself.” Ossë retorts, his face caught between doubt and a much darker emotion. 

“I believe it is safe to acknowledge the three of us have no wish to go near that place.”

“Maedhros is right, I should not like to … hang out there.”

Maedhros stares blankly at Mairon before giving an exasperated sigh “Did you wait all day to make that joke?”

“He came up with it a week ago.” Ossë interjects, hoisting himself up on the grassy shores, a few shimmering seconds of air later and the Maia has reverted to a more Quendi-like raiment as he trots to them with a fist full of dripping seaweeds he wordlessly drops near the fire Mairon has coaxed. 

“I’m not eating this.” Maedhros grimaces as he toes his boots off and sits closer from the flames to warm his feet. 

“Of course you are not, those are for Uinen!”

“How did he ever manage to marry her?” Maedhros turns to Mairon with the look of an Elda unable to believe sweet beautiful Uinen, Lady of the rivers could ever be bound to someone as unhinged as their companion.

“Lack of competition.” Mairon answers back and both ignore Ossë’s sudden loud proclamation of love toward his wife in the form of a terribly composed Lay.

the serie

[tagteck]

Simplifying Your Microsoft Experience with www.microsoft.com/link

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[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Five Times Someone Mistook Roman And Remus (And One Time They Finally Met)

5. Janus and Patton

[1] [2] [3] [4] • [+1]

Word Count: 1361

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Dukexiety, pining Roceit, developing Logicality

Warnings: drunkenness, a fair amount of implied sexual context (the only character who actually has sex is sober), jealousy, did I mention drunkenness

~~~START~~~

“C’mon, Re, it’ll be fun!” Patton tried, poking the moping blanket burrito currently curled up on his couch.  

“Nooooo!” The burrito whined.  

“Virgil will be home tomorrow; it’s your birthday, let’s celebrate!”  

The burrito didn’t react. Time for plan B.  

“I need a wingman.” 

“…fine.” 

~~~ 

“Pleeeease, Logan?” Roman begged, pulling out the puppy dog eyes.  

“Roman, I do not enjoy loud music or drunk people,” Logan waved him off, focusing instead on his tax forms or something — Roman wasn’t paying attention.  

“You didn’t invite me to my own birthday party!” 

“We sent Remy to find you, the fact that the man he brought back was not you is not my fault.” 

“Gurl that’s why we’re going to the club!” Remy pointed out from where he was making himself a latte. “To make up for the party.” 

“Besides,” Janus added, smirking. “Do you really trust us,” he motioned to himself, Remy, and Roman, “to go out unsupervised? Who knows what kind of trouble we might get into.” 

“…you have a point. Fine, but you are all going with me to the opening of the planetarium next week.” 

“Deal!” 

“As long as they have coffee.” 

“I suppose that’s fair.” 

“Excellent, then we shall go to the club tonight.” 

~~~ 

In the end, Patton hadn’t needed Remus’s help to find a cute guy, but the last time he’d seen his friend, he’d looked like he was having fun.  

Patton was having fun too; he was a few drinks in — just enough to be a little tipsy — and talking to the most specs-tacular man he’d ever seen. Said man was certainly more than a few drinks in, but the way he was drunkenly babbling about space was the most endearing thing Patton had ever seen.  

“–and the photos from the James Webb Space Telescope! Have you seen them?” 

“I don’t think so,” Patton smiled, flagging down the bartender for another drink.  

“Wait, I have them on my phone,” the man — Logan — fumbled around in his pocket. “Here.” 

Patton looked as Logan thumbed through the photos for him.  

“They’re really pretty!” 

“They’re more than pretty,” Logan stressed. “They’re stunning! They’re gorgeous! They’re– they’re… words’re hard.” 

Logan picked up his glass, then glared at it as he found it to be empty.  

“Here.” Patton placed the water he’d ordered in front of the other man. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol.” 

Logan stared at the glass, then at Patton, his face completely unreadable.  

“You’re gorgeous,” he said eventually. “As humans, one possible objective is to copulate, therefore would you like to procreate– copulate? Proculate… copreate?” 

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton giggled. “You’re drunk. Did you come here with anyone? Do you need me to call you a cab?” 

“I’m not drunk,” Logan insisted. “You’re drunk. I’m sober perfectly.” 

“Okay,” Patton smiled, grabbing a pen that had been discarded on the bar. “Here’s my number, you can call me tomorrow if you still want to copreate. Do you have someone to take you home, or should I call you a cab?” 

“Janus can cab,” Logan answered unhelpfully, though he was pointing at someone across the room.  

“Is that Janus?” Patton asked, trying to figure out who Logan was pointing to. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, upsy daisy, let’s go find Janus.”  

Patton had to support most of his weight as Drunk Logan proved to have little control over his long limbs. They made it halfway through the crowd before a man materialized in front of them.  

“How much have you had to drink?” The man demanded of Logan, ignoring Patton for the time being.  

“Only a little bit. Me and Patton were talking about stars,” Logan answered. This did not seem to satisfy the man — presumably Janus.  

“Logan, you drove us here!” 

“I shouldn’t drive,” Logan answered. “We should taxi. We should taxi to Patton’s!” 

“No, sweetie,” Patton cut in. “You should go home; you can call me tomorrow if you want.” 

Logan pouted. Janus and Patton exchanged a commiserative glance, and then Patton was transferring Logan’s weight on to Janus.  

“Thank you,” Janus said.  

Patton just nodded before turning around and pushing through the crowd once more. It was about time for him and Remus to get going too… he just needed to find Remus.  

He’d just turned to look in a different direction when someone bumped into him, sending him stumbling and causing his glasses to fall off. He got down on the ground to look for them, but just before he could reach them, a stray foot accidentally stepped on them.  

“Oh shit! I’m sorry dude!” The man who’d stepped on his glasses apologized.  

“No worries,” Patton waved him off tiredly as he collected the broken pieces — the lenses seemed to be intact, but the frames were bent. He sighed and stuffed the pieces into his pocket, he still had to find Remus.  

~~~ 

This night was not going how Janus had imagined it.  

First, Remy peeled off after the first round of drinks (which was to be expected), then Logan left to get another round and never returned (unexpected, but perfect for what Janus had planned), but then Roman spotted a hot guy across the room and left before Janus could get to the confession part!  

After that he might have had another drink, or two, or three.  

Maybe four.  

His friends had yet to resurface, but Janus was in his drinking phase where he hated and resented everyone, so he didn’t care much.  

Of course, then he’d spotted a drunk Logan being supported by a stranger and Bitter Janus turned into Mom-Friend Janus in an instant as he moved to intervene.  

The stranger, it seemed, was trying to send Logan home, so Janus accepted his friend from him and dragged him back to the table he’d been wallowing at. Logan was drunker than Janus had ever seen him — if the excessive use of contractions and incorrect grammar were anything to go off of — but he’d still need to find Roman and Remy before he could take him home.  

He pulled out his phone to text them, and found two missed texts from Remy from over an hour ago.  

Hey babes, went home 😏🍆🍑 

And then twenty minutes later: 

Home safe. Being safe 😎💦 

Well, that was one less person to worry about, now he just had to find– 

“Snakey!” 

Roman draped himself over Janus’s back, wrapping his arms securely around his waist. 

“Hello, Roman. I wasn’t just looking for you,” Janus replied, trying — unsuccessfully — to dislodge the other man from his person.  

“You’re funny,” Roman declared, obviously also extremely inebriated. “You’re like… like Dr. Trick-le and Mr. Lies!” 

Roman laughed at his own terrible nickname, and Janus rolled his eyes fondly.  

“How much have you had to drink?” 

“Soooo much,” Roman drawled, slowly transferring more and more weight onto Janus. “I gotta find him though.” 

“Remy went home, Ro, you don’t need to find anyone. Can you walk on your own? I need to support Samuel Adams over here.” 

“I gotta go home with–” 

“I’m not letting you go home with someone while this drunk,” Janus cut him off quickly, fighting off the return of Bitter Janus. “I’m ordering an Uber and we’ll all go back to my place.” 

Roman found this very funny for some reason, but Janus ignored his laughter and finally shook the man off. He grabbed Logan and began dragging him out of the club without looking back — though he knew Roman was following because he was still laughing.  

He shoved Logan into the middle seat of the Uber once it arrived, and vehemently ignored the sharp pang he felt when he noticed that Roman was wearing a different shirt than he’d come in.  

All he wanted to do was get home and sleep through the massive hangover he already knew he’d have, what Roman did and didn’t do with another man while they were at the club did not matter.  

~~~ 

Remus was pretty drunk by the time Patton finally found him — a much harder task when he didn’t have his glasses — and he didn’t put up any fight as Patton dragged him out of the club and into a cab. 

~~~END~~~

Virgil had to be removed from the situation, he’d see too much, he’d know

Janus: his shirt is different >:(

Also Janus: *doesn’t notice that all of his clothes are different and he has a mustache*

(They’ll kiss in the next part I swear)

Doppelgänger taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives @misunderstood-shadowling @minamishipsit2

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ayato kamisato

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: just as the camellia blooms in the bitter cold of winter, so does his heart, as he watches you from afar.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): none!

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: gender neutral

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: snow rose ー city girl

woww i'm thirsty over ayaka's brother who hasn't been released yet and we don't even know what he looks like,,,i'm such a thirsty hoe

since we know very little about ayato, this is merely my take on him, so take this with a grain of salt.

jesus this is bad, feel free to sue me-

Ah yes, the head of the Kamisato clan himself. Ayato is renowned for being many thingーgraceful, hard-working, handsome, and as unique as the camellias that bloom in the harsh cold of winter. He's the perfect bachelor for anyone who wants his hand in marriage.

Not only can he handle the stress of being the head of his clan, but he is an excellent swordsman and boasts great skill with a polearm. He's practically a package deal just waiting to be unboxed.

And yet...he can't ever stop thinking about you. It was just a mere chance that he met you under the moonlight, with the vibrant sakura petals lazily fluttering around your form, as you blinked, before simply casually greeting him. You either didn't seem to notice or care about who he wasーhe was simply just another person in life who just needed a small break.

Even with his busy schedule, he still tries to find ways to worm his way into "breaks," in which he manages to catch you within his frost-like eyes. They may not be extended moments, but each moment spent with you is like an eternity that he doesn't want to see an end to.

Ayato is a calm and composed man, but around you, he fumbles with his words, all of those mannerisms that were drilled into his head seemingly vanished in just the blink of an eye. It's honestly adorableーseeing the head of the Kamisato clan himself becoming quite the flustered mess. He can't help it, you make his poor heart go absolutely crazy, and he swears that you'll be giving him a heart attack from how your very presence affects him this badly.

He does have his more composed and princely momentsーhis lips grazing your knuckles as he wishes you farewell, or when he offers you his haori because it was particularly chilly that day. Ayato can't stand to look at you, but not because you look odd, archons no. Rather, you just so look so cute in his oversized haoriーhe swears his heart will burst.

Unbeknownst to you, Ayato will sometimes space out whilst staring at your lips, wondering what your lips would feel like against his. He wonders how you would react when he pushes his thumb against your lower lip before he presses his own against yours. It's a fantasy that plagues him constantly, even while he's trying to fill out important documents.

You're more often than not being gifted with rather pricey items from him, and they're disguised as thanks for helping him in your spare time, which is partially true. He actually gave it to you because when he looked at it, his mind started to wander to you, and he ended up purchasing it. He thinks that it's rather unseemly of him, but your happy face makes it all the more worth it.

I like to think that because of his position as head, and being Ayaka's older brother, he's learned how to cook and clean, which he does whenever he has the time to. And since you sneak into his office just to bother him, he's started to make small meals for you, under the guise of you being his taste tester for future recipes that he never got the chance to try out.

Ayaka mostly likely knows that something is up with her brother, seeing as how she notices he's always staring out the window fondly as if there's something of adoration on his mind, or how whenever he comes back from one of his so-called "breaks", he's mumbling something unintelligible while staring at his hand. He never tells her the specifics of what exactly is going through that brain of his thought, so she's mostly left in the dark about it.

You had once offered to brush his hair for him after you had broke snuck into his room, all the while chastising him for not taking better care of himself, and how he needs to take a break from all of this stress. Ayato is nodding away at your words, but the only thing that's even registering in his head is how nice your hands feel on his long white-blue locks, and he has half the mind to wonder if you would continue doing this if the two of you were a coupleーAck, he's gone red again-!

However, due to his ever-growing busy schedule, he can't see you as often as he would like. And he rarely has time to even really breath, much less even see you, so he often wonders if you've gotten bored of waiting around for him, finally not wanting to waste your time on a workaholic like him who can't even take breaks for himself.

But when he opens the window, not only is he greeted with a burst of sakura-scented air wafting into the room, but he's also greeted with you hanging upside down on the rafter, grinning at him like it was normal, and not about to smack your head on the ledge.

Yeah, he could get used to thisーyour derpy smile as he lets you slink into the room, your beautiful laugh as you tease him for being so uptight, and the urge to hold you close and press his lips onto yours while the sun sinks into the ocean. Haha, yeah, he's sure that he wants these happy moments with you to last a lifetime and more.

All he needs to do is just merely tell you how he feels so that his affections won't go untreated for too long. Should be easy enough, right?

[ohtobeleah]

IVE MISSED YOU!! Scrolled through so much to find the sort of mini part 2 you wrote for the plum vendor cause the whole thing was so adorable and spicy in the best way. Like imagine a few years later, Buckys doing better and you’re back in the US. he looks different now though you haven’t changed much and he DEFINITELY remembers you. He repays you for plums with a coffee date 🥺

Also SERIOUSLY MISSED YOU ❤️

Plums & Killers Masterlist

There’s a plethora of things Bucky Barnes can and can’t remember, but if there’s one thing he could remember, it would be that he’d forever remember the warm inviting smile that radiated from you every time he’d pass by the fruit and veg stand. Ripe plums he’s weakness and the way your laugh would simply make him melt into a puddle of the shadow of a man he thought he was, his absolute kryptonite.

“Three words you associate with happiness” Dr. Raynor would ask every so often during Bucky’s court mandated therapy sessions. Bucky would hesitate, one word would always come to mind. Nothing else, just one simple word:

“Plums—”

“Why plums?” Raynor would ask with a puzzled face, trying her best to chip away at the concrete walls reinforced with industrial strength steel beans Bucky had put up years ago to protect all that was left of himself. Bucky would remember your smile, the plum vendor, the bright smile of gorgeous eyes that saw straight past the way Bucky would blend into the crowd. You brought him to the surface with the ease of small talk and the tastiest plums Bucky could ever crave.

“They remind me of home.”

“And where would home be for you James?” Bucky didn’t want to open a can of worms by mentioning the small period in his overextended life where he’d met a girl who sold plums at her grandmother’s fruit and veg stand while on expat to Romania on a working holiday teaching English to the next generation of the world’s best and brightest. No. because then he’d be stuck in this god-awful office being grilled about how he wasn’t trying hard enough to assimilate to a life post Steve Rogers, post Hydra mind control, post blip.

“Wherever the hell my heart is I guess.” From time-to-time Bucky wondered where in the world you ended up. If you’d followed the developing new stories of his manhunt through to streets of Bucharest, the short answer was yes. Yes, indeed you did.

……

“Mum I’m fine, I promise.” You tried you best of try and convince your overdramatic mother over the phone that you were in fact, keeping you shit together after your very long-term relationship just ended. “Who needs men, honestly? What are they even good for these days anyway/” you chuckled under your breathe, walking through the park as you spoke to the woman you stived to be like growing up. “I’m just going to be that cool hip aunty that doesn’t have kids but always knows how to pick an excellent bottle of wine for the family events, I got this all figured out trust—"

Bucky, for some reason or another, perhaps by the grace of some God that saw pity on him, did see you, crashing straight into you as he took to the pathway that snaked through the park serpentine stile. Taking you down with ease, crashing to the ground on top on you. Fumbling around like a wild animal.

“Oh shit—” Bucky gasped, as he tried to protect your fall, cupping your head so that when you hit the deck it wouldn’t be painted with brain matter. “I’m so sorry are you okay? I’m sorry I just didn’t see you, kinda just came outta nowhere.”

“Don’t be, there was no other way I was getting off that phone call—" you sighed as Bucky pealed himself from you, standing to his feet before offering you a hand. Pulling you up with ease to your feet to meet his panicked gaze. “I’m—” you didn’t even have a chance to introduce yourself before the memories of the handsome mystery man came flooding back. Not so mystery anymore, more like, pardons hero. “James?”

“Lila?” Bucky couldn’t feel his heart, it was almost as if it had stopped beating. He knew what that felt like, the shock of electricity that would bolt through his veins. The way his teeth would crack under the pressure and the pain. This though, this kind of heart skipping a beat, for you he’d experience this over and over without question. “You sold me plums in Bucharest—”

“I did!” you beamed as you dusted yourself off, admiring the man who stood before you. He looked like he’d seen the world and then some. But even then, youth was on his side, for 106. “I thought I’d scared you off when you never came back, my plum sales were practically non-existent after you vanished into thin air.” You admitted. “But then I saw the news—” the tone you used frightened bucky for a second. How could you even bare to look at him right now, knowing who he was, what he had done. “I started looking into you a little more.” You trailed of for a moment, shily, almost embarrassed to admit it. “I mean I always knew deep down I was attracted to older men but 100 was pushing it even for me—” you got him, the way Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter, it was instantly addictive.

“You were the only person I spoke to for months before Steve and those army guys destroyed my apartment.” This wasn’t the time or place to admit that you were the first women to help bucky explore his desires after years of torture. But as Bucky could sense the conversation fading, he couldn’t let you slip away. “So, uh hey do you wanna get like a coffee or something soon sometime maybe?” It felt awkward to ask, he felt awkward, but everyone from Sam to Dr. Raynor was telling him to get out there.

“I uh—” looking down at where a diamond ring once wrapped delicately around your left ring finger, you sighed, pressing your lips together with a leap of faith that maybe this could be it and that everything happens for a reason. The bubbling jealousy still there as you struggled to love yourself. But with the way Bucky looked at you like you were a lost treasure he’d been searching for how could you say anything but yes.

“I’d love to.”

[ddarker-dreams]

Buds of Marigold. Yan Childe x Reader x Yan Scaramouche

Warnings: Implied forced marriage, unhealthy relationships, depictions of anxiety, darling threatening violence against someone, mild not SFW implications.  Word count: 2.5k.

“I never thought the day would come where I’d be so stumped,” Ying’er runs her fingers over glass bottles of essential oils and varying plant nectars. “For such an important customer too… everything needs to be perfect.”

You don’t lift your eyes from the task in your hands, scrubbing valiantly at a stain blemishing an incense pot. To affirm you have been listening, even if you won’t spare her a glance until you’ve finished cleaning, you hum with a rising intonation. Ying’er sinks to the ground with all the grace of a drunken sailor, sniffling in a final attempt to pry out your sympathy.

She hobbles over to where you’re sitting and places her head on your lap. Your body tenses at the sudden touch, but you steady your breathing before it can get noticeable.

“Oh, almighty Yun, the lost Archon of fragrances, have thee no pity for thy devout follower,” Ying’er lifts the back of her hand and presses it against her forehead in a show of unparalleled theatrics. The sight does as she intended, a light giggle leaving your lips at the impromptu melodrama. Her timing lines up well as the stubborn grime you were fighting finally concedes.

You place the incense pot aside and sheepishly pat her head. “Ying’er, how are you going to learn if I give you the answers every time?”

“By your ingenious example!” She exclaims, jutting out her lower lip into a pout. “I’ve already picked out the base, I just need a little nudging in the right direction for the top and mid notes.”

Your eyes soften and your heart is strum with conviction. You soothe your grumbling friend by stroking her hair, humming a soft tune, all the while feeling somewhat baffled by your growth thus far. A few moons ago, you couldn’t have pictured allowing yourself to be touched like this by anyone. It wouldn’t matter how innocent the contact was. The moment someone got too close for comfort, you were willing to reduce them to nothing but a pile of cinders.

You pause your ministrations and sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll help you compose your perfume. This is the last time though, okay?”

Ying’er ailments seemingly vaporize into the air at your begrudging assistance. She shoots up from her kneeling position like her feet were coiled springs, an overflow of gratitude fumbling past her lips.

“You’re the best, Yun,” she praises and pinches your cheek, much to your chagrin. “Now that I’ve won you over with my charms, how about—”

The front door’s chimes ring, alerting you both of someone entering. You two exchange a look of confusion, as Scent of Spring is closed for the day, the oil lanterns extinguished and doors locked. Your finger twitches by your side in anticipation. Ying’er is blissfully ignorant to your Vision and subsequent ability to command forward a blade, a façade you wish to sustain.

“I’ll handle it,” Ying’er says before you can contemplate your options another second. You nod, an unspoken appreciation etched onto your countenance. The details of your circumstances were purposefully murky and she never presses. Whatever conclusions Ying’er has come to, you prefer it stays that way, not wanting to upset the delicate balance that is your current life.

You straighten out her collar which had wrinkled. “Call me if anything’s wrong.”

Ying’er winks reassuringly and presses her hands over yours, the touch featherlight. “I’m a fearsome opponent, no one would dare cross me.”

Let’s hope that’s true, you think. Frowning, you observe her retreating figure, taking caution to remain out of sight. Ying’er steps out of the backroom, the thick wooden door closing loudly behind her. You keen your ears to listen, cursing internally over how the thick walls muffle their voices. Her voice is one you instantly recognize, but the other belongs to someone with a deeper timbre. Your boss is an elderly woman, so that rules her out. A Millieth, perhaps?

You’re not left waiting for long, much to your relief. Ying’er pops her head back in a few minutes later.

“It was just a returning customer who was pleased with his latest commission, the one you helped me with no less. He had nothing but high praises for it!”

Waves of relief crash over you, but your senses remain on high alert.

“I’m happy to hear that. Still, how did he manage to get in? Didn’t you lock up for the night?” You inquire, hoping you don’t sound overly paranoid. In the back of your mind, you can’t fully discount the idea that it’s him, the thought alone enough to have you shaking in place.

“Must’ve forgotten or something,” she shrugs. You let out a breath you were holding in at her nonchalance, it seems plausible given her airheaded nature. “By the way, Yun, can we work on the perfume in the morning? I just realized how tired I am.”

“Of course. It has been a long day... I’ll finish things up here, go home and get some rest.”

Ying’er waves and wishes you a good night.

It’s now your turn to slump onto the ground, grasping your chest when your knees hit the floor. Deep breaths, deep breaths, you tell yourself. Everything is going to be okay.

This peaceful existence that you’ve fought tooth and nail to build for yourself… the only way it could ever get be stolen from your hands is if air no longer filled your lungs. Your fingers travel underneath the foreign fabric of your Liyue garments, the warmth of your pulsating Vision giving you solace. Tending to the last few chores, your subconscious drifts elsewhere, to an island beyond the sea. What is it you would be doing this time of day again? Ironically enough, you realize you’d be working with incense as you are now, but for different reasons. The reason you excel with curating incense to produce the best aroma is because you were trained to do so.

Your work now is your lifeblood, giving you enough to scrape by undetected. Those days, however, were a different story. It constituted survival like now, but to a far more humiliating degree. It was expected of you to perform your duties with grace and discipline. You would retire early to your shared chambers, prepare and burn your husband’s favorite incense, and fuss over your appearance in the vanity. Then you would loosen the sash of your obi, just enough so that if it had been a frustrating day, he could lose himself in your body for a momentary escape. Those customs had been ingrained into your mind. Had you needed to, you’re certain you could’ve done everything with your eyes closed from memory.

You head for the back exit. Surely, your past self would be thrilled to know your meticulous plans had come to fruition. All those smiles through gritted teeth, submissive language, and patience that could rival that of a god… everything was worth it.

Now you’re no longer the number Six of the Fatui's Eleven Harbingers’ spouse. You’ve taken the identity of Yun, a Visionless worker for a perfume shop in Liyue, everyday defined by freedom. To do as you please, go where you please, speak to who you please. The little details that were stolen from you by his hands return like tentative buds in spring.

You’ve yet to fully assimilate with Liyue’s cuisine, but it’s steadily growing on you. Maybe you’ll make an Inazuma-inspired dish tonight? In the months that have passed, you’ve found a taste for your nation’s food coming back. So as not to repeat Ying’er’s mistake, you double-check the backdoor’s locks, finding it is as it should be. Behind the humble shop is an alley which you use to creep back home. It’s best not to risk traveling out in the open if you can avoid it, you never know what eyes might be hiding in plain sight.

“Liyue apparel compliments you very well.”

With the speed of a descending phoenix, you pivot on your heel, summoning your weapon and pressing it to the jugular of whoever spoke just now. Squinting, your eyes take a few long seconds to adjust. Once they do, your body feels like it’s being drug into the underworld, the air in your lungs forced out. This man… you’ve seen him before. He gives you an all teeth grin, azure eyes swirling with delight and face contorting in amusement.

You remain steadfast through your bewilderment. “Try and scream and I’ll slit your throat.”

“I’m not much of a screamer,” Childe replies, laughing as if the situation was comical. “It’s good to see you too, [First]. Never thought I’d happen upon an old face in Liyue. I knew I recognized that unique combination of perfume, looks like I was right.”

It hits you that this is the first time you’ve heard your actual name in months. How Childe says it doesn’t feel right, he utters it with familiarity. Though, from what you remember, he’s never been known for having boundaries. Scaramouche would complain about his conduct for hours if given the opportunity. This would be the first time you’ve spoken with him, not from a lack of trying on his behalf. When Childe paid a visit to your husband’s estate, you were expected to be present at the start of their meetings. They would discuss business together while you stood there and looked easy on the eyes. Occasionally, you would refill their tea, but that was all you were permitted to do.

The look Scaramouche shot Childe when the latter tried speaking with you was enough to give you nightmares for days.

“What… what are you going to do now?” You murmur, anticipating the worst. This isn’t going to end well no matter what. If Fatui are in Liyue, that means Childe’s likely told someone where he was going; meaning that him going missing would be suspicious and warrant an investigation. On the other hand, who is to say he won’t just return you to Scaramouche if you let him live? You doubt your tears and pleading would have any effect on the youngest Harbinger. He’s similar to your husband — acting altruistic and kind — only to show their true colors when it suits them best.

“Right now? I’m trying not to get my throat slit,” he raises an eyebrow like that was the most obvious answer.

You bite your lower lip. “We both know you could get out of this hold if you wanted to.”

“Emphasis on the ‘if I wanted to’ part. As of right now, I don’t believe I do, being held by you is rather enjoyable,” Childe tests the waters by moving forward, humming in contentment when you lessen your grip as not to slice through his skin. “See? You’ve never even killed someone before. Call it intuition, but I don’t think you could.”

He reconsiders the proposition for a second. “Well, maybe if it was him...”

“You’re as insufferable as I remember,” you hiss, imbuing heat into your blade. Childe barely backs off and the unspoken threat. “Everyone who refuses to take me seriously comes to regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I fully agree with that. The Balladeer reduced you to nothing but a pretty little ornament. He underestimated you and this is the consequence.” Childe has an easier time maintaining eye contact than you do. It’s another minute detail that expresses the gap in your experience. You may be adequately trained in combat, but that pales in comparison when faced with a trained killer. This sorry charade will end the moment he wants it to.

Hate floods through your veins like venom. He’s looking down on you, just in a different way than how your husband would. Where Scaramouche was condescending and sadistic, Childe is brutally honest and teasing. It’s a split-second decision on your behalf, one motivated by the desire to prove this smug bastard wrong more than self-preservation. You loosen your grip on him and jump back. It’s not a lot of space, however, it should be enough to allow you room to react when he strikes.

He goes silent. It’s painfully obvious that he’s trying to get a read on you, now that you’re veering into unexpected territory.

“You were waiting for an opening, weren’t you?” Your words come out with more strength than you thought possible, deep from the chest and guttural. “Well, here you go. It’s the best you’re going to get.”

Childe blinks. Once, twice. His shoulders start to tremble, his chest following soon after, and he lifts his gloved hand to cover his mouth. Hearty laughter leaves his lips and pierces your self-esteem. You don’t understand what’s so humorous to him — though you’re well aware these Harbingers hold no humanity — repulsion flooding your system. This feels nostalgic in the worst ways possible. Early on in your marriage, Scaramouche would regard your resistance with a similar air of blatant dismissal, like your protests were nothing but a tantrum.

“You were wasted with him,” Childe’s loathsome cackling dies down, a maniacal grin splitting his face ear to ear. “Now I understand… the way you’re looking at me now is chilling. Exciting. In what ways have you evolved to survive? I love the fight in you, unlike him. Your adaptability is remarkable, like that of the most cunning prey. ” 

Prey. The dehumanizing word makes you frown, yet you remain firm in your stance. This is the best chance, you think, now that you’ve managed to surprise him once. There’s plenty more where that came from. Tendrils of molten flames, like they were stolen from the sun itself, would make for a considerable challenge. Harbinger or not, he should know better than to charge in without thinking twice when you hold a Pyro Vision.

His face returns to a more casual visage and he waves his hand. “I never had any intention of bringing you back to Inazuma. You think a Mora reward would be a good enough motivator for me to do that?”

“T-then why are you here?” You challenge, ever the skeptic. Childe can weave a tale of lies as much as he wants. That doesn’t mean you’ll allow yourself to be ensnared in it.

“I wanted to see how you’d react,” his nonchalant admission leaves you speechless. “Needless to say, you didn’t disappoint. A pretty face with the feist to match. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Oh, fuck off with that,” you snarl, your vision almost going red from the fury holding you hostage. Now that you no longer need to play the subservient partner, vulgarities come to you with ease, and you have no shortage of them for this blight in the flesh.

Childe’s smile widens. “No can do, I’m afraid. My curiosity has gotten the better of me this time. Could I tame you? Break your spirit better than he did? So show me your resolve to be free, sweet [First].”

He readies himself and you do as well. It’s in the dull illumination of the overhead lanterns that you realize there is no light in his eyes. How fitting, you think. That even his body has come to accept his lack of humanity.

“Go on. I’ll give you a ten second head start. After that... well, you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”