#losing my marbles over new content

[latelyaliens]

Just in case you missed it

[rainrot4me]

Take It

Summary: Nightmarish visions drive you to seek out their sender, constant paranoia driving you mad. But when you find out he intends to make you work for him, he realizes you can’t be broken like the others. So he must take a more… intensive approach.

Characters: Slenderman x Male Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mental torture, hallucinations, phantom touch, description of organs and blood, tentacles, eating out, overstimulation, mind-breaking, forced submission, dub-con, painful pleasure, masochism, gagging, choking, blood, tentacles, anal, stomach bulge, tearing, size-difference, suffocation, forcing, clawing, manipulation, kinda stockholm syndrome at the end

Words: 6.5k

A/N: This was my first time writing for a male pov! I hope it wasn’t too unrealistic lolol

It had been nonstop for weeks.

Visions. These crazy, nightmare-induced images continuously haunted your thoughts and dreams, leaving you nauseous every time you closed your eyes. Seeing dead family members, imagining noises and people that weren’t there, even feeling physical pain with no explanation. Sleep was nonexistent at this point, brain on high alert and checking every corner of every dark room you entered. You had no idea what was setting them off, sleep medications doing absolutely nothing for your new insomnia that kept you up into the late hours of the morning until you watched the sunrise. Quitting your job came next. Unable to stay awake and alert through a shift caused you a bad reputation, paranoia driving you to leave after imagining seeing a dead body in the garbage can. 

No matter what you tried: medicine, sleep, meditation, nothing calmed the pounding in your head. However, one thing was constant, a recurring entity that seemed to be the center of every hallucination—this grotesquely long-limbed figure with stark white skin. He was giant, towering over you and making you feel so tiny and weak, thriving from the fear it gave you. But the worst part of it, despite his rather nice suit and tie, was the complete lack of a face. His head was smoothed over, skin warping almost to resemble expressions but wrinkling and stretching against the muscles of his face buried underneath. Despite the horror, he was so intriguing, mind-wrapping around the concept of him. This figure always showed up in the corners of your vision, in the dark areas of a room or behind tall objects, like he was truly there watching you.

But you had to convince yourself it was just a trick in your mind, closing your eyes and breathing deep to center yourself back. Sometimes it was hard, body and mind under so much stress you felt like you were genuinely dying, but you always came back eventually. You were just never sure if that time would be your last. 

Dropping your groceries onto the counter, you pulled the fridge open, grabbing a bottle of water. You were scrounging now, desperate to use your money wisely to buy the things you needed now without a job. It was rough, losing a lot of the things you once took for granted due to your own mental decay. Having friends was out of the question now, your hallucinations creeping onto them as well and ruining any social ability you once had. For lack of a better term, your life was falling apart before your eyes. And there was nothing you could do about it.

Turning back to your groceries, you gripped the paper bags, dragging them to the edge of the marble counter, reaching your hand in. At first, you were confused, wet sludge touching your hand and pulling out quickly. Nervously you peered into the bag, eyes widening and throat constricting as you jerked back, gagging. 

The paper bag was filled with organs, thick blood coating the goopy tangle of insides as the sack tipped over, contents spilling onto your counter and hardwood floors. You retched, gripping the counter behind you as you forced yourself to look away, a lung landing near your foot. It wasn’t long before you were sobbing, the retched smell filling your nose and sending you hunching over, gagging as you clenched your stomach. It was everywhere, blood staining the floors as livers and kidneys slid from the marble and fell onto the ground with a wet slap. 

This couldn’t be real, this wasn’t. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply and trying your hardest to silence the screaming panic inside your body. The sounds and smells sent you reeling, sobbing into your hands as you tried to calm down, praying to whatever would listen to take your hysteria away.

As the smell dissipated, you peeked from behind your hands, stomach nervous at the sight you might find. However, apples and cans of food spread on the ground, rolling under counters and resting beside your feet. Breathing deep, you crouched down, sobbing into your hands as you tried to clean up the mess you had caused. Your mental strength was deteriorating, morale so low you couldn’t even bring yourself to care for your well-being anymore.

Googling the creature’s appearance was enough to get at least some information. This thing was called ‘Slenderman’, a well-known cryptic being around the area that was a big folklore agent. Most of the blogs you found circled a weird fan base, cultish intrigue following the lengthy being wherever it appeared. It was cringy, hysterical almost, but at least it gave you some sense of what you were working with. 

This creature was haunting you, torturing you, and you had to do something about it before it killed you.

-

The woods were dark even with a flashlight, dense trees blocking the view of the full moon overhead. Why you were out here, you weren’t sure, but it felt like a good place to start. Considering your visions, most of them took place in the forest, the tall creature always cradled amongst the branches and leaves and just barely out of view until he decided otherwise. So as you pressed through bushes and overgrown grass, it just felt right to be here, eyes scanning eagerly with every step.

You know you should’ve been scared, should’ve been consulting a therapist or a priest for these sorts of things, but your mind just wouldn’t let you rest. He was terrifying, sure, but your intrigue overruled any hesitation you might’ve had, beckoning you towards him. Maybe it was all a part of his game, luring you into a false sense of curiosity just to take advantage. But, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. You never feared a little game of cat and mouse. If this thing wanted your mind, he was gonna have to work for it. 

But your mental strength reflected poorly as you shook in your skin, heart pounding at every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig. There were no telltale signs that you were going in the right direction, having no clue if he would even be in these woods in the first place, but something in your gut told you he already knew you were here. It was like this weight holding your mind, a claw gripped tightly around your consciousness until it was suffocating you, dragging you down into the worst parts of yourself. So, if that bastard could do that, he could very well buck up and face you if he really wanted to. Taking a deep breath, you stopped, for no particular reason other than your pants becoming too loud and your body becoming too eager.

“I know you’re watching.” You stated calmly, but just loud enough for it to echo throughout the trees. There was no immediate response, just the subtle breeze wafting through the limbs and noises echoing back to you. It was unsettling, but you could feel something building, sliding through you unnaturally. It was calm at first, an irritating chill pushing up your spine and to the back of your head, throbbing gently. A normal person could have passed it by as the start of a headache, but you knew better, irritation growing.

“You’re real good at that, y'know? Hiding and teasing. What, you get off on it? Pain and all that?” You chuckled through grit teeth, flicking your flashlight off and tossing it to the ground, crossing your arms. The tension pulsed, making you flinch as you felt phantom claws curl against your insides, quickening your heartbeat. You hissed, holding your ground and examining the trees, searching for that familiar energy you had seen too much of. “Why don’t you come say hi?” You growled, digging your nails into your arms to stop you from gagging. The feeling was nauseating, mind tensing and swirling until you felt dizzy, cold energy running through you. He was here, it was evident now, but he hid behind your mind, nestled just between the corners of your consciousness just where you couldn’t reach him, couldn’t flush him out. It was torturous, but in some sadistic way, it felt good. 

Your mind tensed, neck craning as you rolled your eyes shut, pushing back against the grip. “Or are you too scared?” You smiled, shuddering as the tension pressed against your skin, faint phantom claws pressing against your back. Now it really felt good, teeth grit as you tried not to groan, back arching slightly as they slid up to your shoulders and gripped to your neck. Gasping, you open your eyes, dizzy against the dual sensations as your mind whispers a secret to yourself, begging to find the creature somewhere out here instead of just in your thoughts. “Please…”

Like a prayer, your eyes stopped, the sensation against your neck dissipating as you found that familiar stark white skin nestled just perfectly into the shadows. There was no difference between what lay before you and the image that showed in your mind, that familiar suit and energy radiating all the same. However, your idea of his height was skewed, his head almost reaching the top of the branches on the pine he stood behind. He was… huge. Towering almost an entire other person over you, your head barely coming up to his waistline as you watched him, your heart pounding against your chest as the tension in your mind gripped harder, making you groan.

He was several yards away, just visible enough to see his jaw twitch as he watched through a blank expression. You wanted to move, to press towards him and interrogate, but your mind was so numb, so mushy you couldn’t think of how to take another step. 

“Bastard…” You hissed, palms clenching as you glared, fighting against the nauseating feeling. Maybe it was the intensity of it all, the pressure and chilling sensation that crept all over your body, but you couldn’t stop your stomach from fluttering gently, thighs clenching together. Slenderman tilted his head in amusement, curiously watching as you felt the pressure creep from your skull down your chest, finally settling into the pit of your stomach. You hunched over, clenching your gut as you gasped, staring through heavy eyes at the lanky being finding amusement in your uncomfortable position. “Such a bitch… hiding…” You gasped out, stomach-lurching as you let yourself fall to your knees, jeans digging into the wet grass as you groaned, tugging at your clothes. You couldn’t compare the sensation. Almost like someone was digging their fingers into your gut, teasing and prodding at your insides until you were squirming and whining for relief. The one thing you could describe, however, was the irritable way your cock began to twitch in your boxers, curiously flinching to life. You tried to press your hands down, covering yourself as your bulge grew and pressed against your pants. 

Now Slenderman was really interested, taking a calm step out of the shadows and slowly towards you, clasping his long claws behind his back as he watched you squirm, desperate to push your aching cock back down. There was so no fucking way you were getting excited from this feeling. You were closer to throwing up than you were to cumming, but for some reason, it lit a fire under you, turning you on in some nauseating way. But as his dress shoes crunched against the wet grass closer to you, you couldn’t help but moan under your breath, gripping your jeans tightly as he stood in front of you, towering over you so tall you had to lean back to see his face.

He was bent at the waist, chest tensing against his suit as he breathed slowly as he leaned down closer to you, the weight in your gut growing the closer he got. “Fuck… Fuck you…” You whined, tears pricking on your waterline as he finally stopped, hot breath blowing against your face that seemingly came from nowhere.

“Interesting.” Slenderman chuckled, his voice smooth and low, every word laced with the undertone of a darker grumble, like two voices were speaking at once, overlapping each other subtly. You flinched, him speaking with the lack of a jaw movement making you uneasy, body beginning to tremble under him. “You have such a strong resolve. It’ll be satisfying to crumble it.” He stood back up, readjusting his tie around his neck as his bony stature swallowed yours. You wanted to snap something back, but your mind was cut short, swallowed by pain as phantom claws dug into your skull, piercing your mind with the nauseating noise of chalk scratching. You groaned out, gripping your head as you rolled your eyes deeply, whining against the feeling as your stomach rolled. The pain should’ve pushed your arousal down, should’ve scared you, but all your cock could do was strain, twitching with excitement the deeper it felt like the claws sunk. What the hell was wrong with you?

A crippled moan rolled from your lips, thighs tensing together as your knees dug into the ground, palming at your jeans for some sort of relief from the strain on your mind. Slenderman was watching, amusement gauging his features as he poked and prodded at you, infesting your senses. “So sensitive.” He cooed, putting pressure against your chest and stalling your breathing, forcing your lungs smaller than they wanted to be. It was exhausting, heart and mind running a mile a minute as you wheezed, staring straight into his expressionless face. “So fickle.”

“Why-” You managed to push out between coughs, head dizzy and congested with nausea. Slender pushed forward, reaching his claw out to wrap around your face, thin fingers enveloping your entire jaw in one firm grip, squeezing your cheeks close together. “You’re going to work for me. Your strength, your abilities, they’re all admirable. They would make a great asset to the little group I have,” He smiled behind the stretch of pale flesh, skin pinching into a strained grin. “I just have to crack that determination you so desperately hold onto.” 

He squeezed down tighter, claws digging into the sides of your head and making you whine, your skull feeling like it could crack under the pressure. All the while keeping your eyes trained on his smug face, flesh hot under his touch, cock twitching as you relished in the feeling of being overpowered, fear mixing with arousal uncontrollably. Your jeans pressed way too tight, sensation overloading you to the point of it hurting, begging to be touched as your sadistic brain ran rampant.

Slender took notice too, peeking past his arm and down towards your groin, spotting the obviously large bulge nestled between your legs. “Hmm…” He inquired, easing the phantom pains that pressed into your head and dragging them achingly slow down towards your legs, making your eyes widen and breath quicken. You tried to push back, reaching your hands to claw against his arm, tugging at his jacket sleeve and whining desperately. The lanky creature snickered, deep voice holding you irritable as the touch stretched down to your cock, putting heavy pressure against it. 

Groaning deep into the palm of Slender’s claw, you wrapped your hands around his arm, holding yourself steady as the phantom touch pushed down teasingly against your clothed cock. You nearly choked out a sob, pushing your hips up eagerly to create friction as your cheeks grew dark, embarrassment being lost in the relief of being touched. Slender watched eagerly, brows tensing as he hummed, mentally pushing and rubbing down onto your bulge. 

It was heavenly, eyes rolling and soft gasps muffling out, eagerly chasing the touch as it began to retreat back off of you completely. You whined, clawing at his thin arm until he let go of your face, standing back up straight. 

You had been so skewed by your hazy mind that you hadn’t realized the absolute presence of the creature before you. He was terrifying, sure, and powerful too. But you couldn’t act like you didn’t notice how powerful he felt, how easily he could mutilate or destroy you, but just how easily he could command and dominate you. It turned you on in the worst kind of way. You wanted to be angry, to tear him to shreds for the insanity he’s caused you. But as he looked down, crossing his long arms across his chest and tapping a claw onto his suit sleeve, nothing could stop your cock from aching.

“Stop looking at me like that, bastard.” You growled, sniffling your tears back at the strain against your jeans, clenching your thighs closely together for at least some friction, but more so out of embarrassment. “Quiet. I’m trying to figure out what to do with you, boy.” He snapped back, tension growing in his face. You wanted to growl, but more desperately you wanted to beg. Beg for whatever that sensation was to come back, to give you more. “Hm, I know,” He grinned, unbuttoning his suit and sliding it off of his shoulders, his white collared dress shirt sitting snug against his bony figure. “You can’t be broken like the others, it seems. You’re… in need of special treatment. Something that’ll break you in ways pain can’t.” His voice was low and husky, eagerness lacing his echoing voice as he rolled up his sleeves, tucking them up to his elbows in that hot way older men did. You were writhing, caught in the middle of terror and excitement, mind unsure of which one to pick.

But it seemed Slender was going to pick for you. As you leaned back onto your haunches, body straining, you stared wide-eyed as dark, slimy tentacles began to push out from his back, the lanky creature breathing deep as they caged around him, several veins pushing towards you slowly. To you, they blended in with the tree branches around, thick limbs curving and jagged like the wood of a tree, perfect for camouflage, you realized. But as they began to slink around you, cold warmth snaking across your arms and into the sleeves of your shirt, you couldn’t help but gasp, leaning into the feeling. It was so odd, unlike anything you could compare it to as they gripped around your legs too, pushing themselves under you and lifting slowly, stretching your body off of the ground as you tried not to panic. They held you tight, pushing your shirt up and into your pant legs, odd slime spreading across your chilled skin until you were moaning.

They worked quickly to tug your shirt over your head, Slender clasping his hands behind his back again as he watched, controlling the tendons to tug open your jeans and slide them down your legs as well, bulge embarrassingly evident against your thin boxers. “Wait… Woah…” You mewled, straining your arms to push the tentacles away but they wrapped around your wrists, holding them clasped together as they fully undressed you, finally slipping your boxers down and hooking off of your ankles. The night air was so cold, body tensing and shaking as you held suspended in the air, gasping as the slime slid scarcely close to your ass. “Where to start…” Slender crept, neck craning to examine every inch of your nude body as he pulled you closer, a large claw wrapping around your waist and smothering your hips entirely. He held your thighs, neck, arms, pale claws wrapping around them completely, easily holding your limbs in one grasp. But turning you around, suspending you higher in the air, your head dropped quickly, tentacles turning you upside down as Slender palmed at your ass, blood rushing to your face as he tugged your cheeks apart. “Here seems right.”

Wrapping his claws around your waist, he pulled you snugly against him, back pressed to his lower abdomen as tentacles repositioned, angling better to hold you in the right position. Your arms strained, grasping onto his suit for balance as you teetered upside down, bangs falling from your face and head already beginning to feel dizzy. Your heart thudded, cock hanging lazily down against your abdomen, bobbing in the air as you felt claws spread your thighs apart, asshole puckering from the cold. There was nothing you could do, no fight you could put up that wouldn’t result without you dropped on your head or thrown for distance. No matter how much your brain screamed at you to fight, you were forced to settle, forced to hold onto his clothes and beg your determination would hold out against whatever plans he had. Whines slipped as your head pounded against the pressure building between your ears, your face growing deep red as you hung.

Then came the cracking, the ear-straining tears that sounded from above you. Fear pushed you to look up, neck straining as you watched with intrigue as Slenderman’s expressionless face began to change, skin stretching right about where his mouth would be. He was creating a mouth, or better yet, exposing the one he already had. Shreds of skin tore open, pale flesh cracking to form a mouth as his jaw craned open, tugging the skin apart. That’s when you saw the teeth, rows and rows of jagged nestled inside of his wide mouth, a long tongue slipping out between the razors and lulling above you, already soaked in saliva. How was he able to conceal an entire mouth? How was he able to conceal that tongue? It was long, the muscle curling and flicking like his tentacles, wet and dark and pointed at the tip. You wanted to whine, to tug away and run. But as he slid his head down, wrapping his claws tighter around your hips, you moaned, cock twitching as he slid his tongue between your cheeks. It was cold, saliva spreading between your plump cheeks and pressing against your hole, tip teasing before continuing to wet the rest of the area. You were groaning loudly, hands gripping tight as pushing your hips back, aching for the feeling but oh so nervous as well. 

“It’s going to taste so good when you submit. When I break that willpower to resist inside of you.” Slender chuckled between laps, growling as he licked up your thighs, teeth knicking against your skin. You tensed as he finally settled between your cheeks, claws tugging your ass apart to give him clear access as he began to shove his tongue against your tight rim, giving you no time to adjust before he was shoving further. You were howling, back arching uncomfortably as Slender disregarded your body’s restraint, forcing the thick muscle deeper until it felt like you were going to tear, lower body screaming. “Oh my god-” You snapped out, teeth clenching as you forced your eyes shut, body straining against the thickness slipping inside of you. It was uncomfortable, pain snapping at your muscles but only feeding your cock to ache more, pulsing against your stomach eagerly as Slender growled against you, brows knotting. Your jaw hung lazily as he bottomed his tongue out inside of you, thick muscle straining against your tight walls as your rim stretched too wide. You were dizzy, being upside down made you nauseous now, brain pulsing between your ears. 

Slender was quick now, tugging his tongue out just enough to push it back in fast, clawing your hips back against his mouth, Lazily fucking you up onto his tongue, you moaned out loud, the wet schlick of his tongue moving inside of you echoing against the trees. You tried to resist, tried to hold your mouth shut and muffle your moans to not satisfy the cryptid, but it only irritated him, moving faster. His tongue curled inside of you, nudging against your tight walls and pressing down hard against your prostate, enveloping the bud wholly. “Oh, fuck-” You whined, hands clenching tight around his pant legs as his tentacles roamed, slithering against your hot skin and prodding at any sensitive spots you revealed. Behind your ears, curling onto your nipples, even wrapping tight around your ribs, anything to get you to make a noise. You tried to push back, to withstand, but as you clenched your eyes shut, the tentacles moved down, curiously sliding around your thighs. Tensing, you tried to clench your thighs together, Slender’s thick claws holding them wide and still, tongue continuing to milk your ass as you whined. 

You flinched when the tentacles slid around your aching cock, slithering around the girth and holding tight, slime covering the length and poking at your tip. Your back arched into the feeling, Slender grunting as he followed your hips, pushing his head forward back between your legs. The tentacles began to stroke your cock slowly, going only half the pace that the cryptid’s tongue was, gripping tight and pulling hard to milk precum from your tip already. You babbled, grinding your hips in time with Slender’s movements but failing as he read your body, speeding himself up. His goal was the break you, so he couldn’t let you become comfortable, needing to push your body further than it wanted to go. 

So a large tentacle pressed to your face, sliding against your jaw and shoving itself between your lips, filling your mouth quickly. You tried to relax, tried to take the tendon easily, but it forced itself in, shoving its way down your throat until you were gagging, throat straining against the size. If hanging upside down wasn’t bad enough, having your breathing cut by a large slimy tentacle made it all the more intense. Your lungs screamed, begging for air as the tentacle matched the pace of Slender’s tongue, tugging itself out of your throat just to shove itself back in, filling your senses with gags and slobber. Eyes rolling, slobber running out of your mouth, and body falling apart, you were already losing, already having to strain not to slip into some lost headspace. But even with the lack of eyes, you could feel his gaze burning into you, feel as he beckoned unfamiliar sensations and noises from your body. 

Your whines began to sound cracked, your voice high and pitchy as it gagged around the tentacle, vibrating around the intrusion. You tried to push, tried to pull your arms loose of the grip wrapped around your body, bucking your hips the deeper Slender probed his tongue, trying to escape. Every drag of his tongue, his tentacles, even his claws was becoming painful, overstimulation scratching at your brain as you cried, sensations becoming filled with nothing but him. It hurt so bad, the suffocation and the strain, so you couldn’t explain why a knot was growing in your gut, cock leaking desperately as it was tugged and swallowed in thick warm slime. It just hurt so good. Slender could read it too, pulling the tongue out as far as he could before slamming it back inside, curling it onto itself to stretch your hole wider, crying out as you felt your rim tear, blood pooling against the muscle. The sting sent you, body convulsing into itself as you came hard, strings of hot seed shooting down and onto your chest, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the tentacle stopped deep into your throat, nearly making you puke. Slender’s tongue rode you through your orgasm, relishing in the way your walls clenched as your cock fell flaccid, sensitive in his grasp. He slowly tugged his tongue out, groaning at the taste of blood soaking in until he was completely out, slurping up the taste vulgarly. 

He still had his tentacle pressed into your throat, your hands slamming down against him as you cried for air, slobber and obnoxious choking sounds getting so loud he almost feared you’d throw up. But maybe that would be good…

Deciding against it, he tugged the tentacle out, your lungs gasping for air as your eyes clenched shut and your face returned to a normal shade. The tendons slithered, repositioning to turn you upright, flinging your body off of Slender’s warmth and into the air, dropping you hard against the ground. You groaned, hunching into yourself as your body slammed into the cold grass, bare body wrecked by the cryptid. You were still gasping, chest heaving as you tried to wipe the cum from your chest, wiping the sweat from your brow. Slender seemed unimpressed, slipping his tongue between his teeth as he readjusted his button-up, refolding the sleeves back up to his elbows as he knelt down at your feet. “You can take more.” He stated cooly, standing back up and shooting a tentacle out, wrapping tight around your ankle and dragging you back up again.

You clawed desperately at the grass, pleading some unheard begs to stop as he slid another tentacle around your chest, pulling your eye level with his chest. You watched through heavy, tired eyes as Slender tugged another tentacle down towards his slacks, unbuttoning them as he slid his claws around your chest, pulling you closer to him. “I can’t…” You gasped, head spinning as the tentacle shoved his pants down, tugging his cock out. You watched in horror as Slender placed his length on top of you, nestling it beside your own weak cock and resting it on your stomach. It easily reached right below your chest, almost tripping your length when hard. It wasn’t normal thought, the texture and curvature more like another tentacle, but the rosy head already leaking told you it wasn’t just another tendon. Slender smiled rabidly, length twitching and pulsing on top of you as more tentacles wrapped your body, pressing and poking against all those obnoxious spaces again. “You will, boy. You’ll take it.” He snarled, tendons pushing you back as a separate one wrapped around his length, stroking himself as he crossed his arms again, watching you eagerly. 

You thought his tongue was bad. But as you watched his cock line up with your ass, you nearly screamed, heart pounding in your ears. You were so terrified, cock twitching back to life involuntarily as you watched his claws snag around your hips again, tugging you close as his head pressed against your asshole. He was going to tear you in half.

Slender groaned at your little panicked sounds when he finally began to push through, watching you as tears filled your eyes and your voice cracked with pleas of how it wouldn’t fit, how it’d kill you. He smiled, teeth glimmering as you began to stretch, rim catching impossibly tight the deeper he pushed, your body thrashing as a tentacle wrapped around your throat, clenching to alleviate your tension, but also to silence your mindless protests. Slender wanted to forfeit all restraint and tear you up, caring less if you ruptured something. But there was a science to this, a cool calculated way to make you fall apart, to make you want it more than he did. “Don’t fight it, yeah?” He growled, stopping his press when you began to gasp for air, sliding his tentacle across your cheeks and nipples to take your mind off of the sickeningly wide stretch your ass was experiencing. “Just give in already.”

Slender snapped his hips shallowly, just barely pressing an inch in more, but it was enough to make you scream, fists clenching and throat sobbing as you arched, the fullness making your head light. You tried to hold your eyes open, tried to fight against the pain and the stretch and keep your head right, but you just couldn’t. So, eyes heavy, you let your head fall, jaw unhinging as you went boneless in his grasp, cock snapping against your abdomen. Slender took the opportunity, pushing deeper until he caught on your rim again, growling at the tightness holding him still. But as he looked down, he smiled, a wicked chuckle echoing in your dizzy head as you peeked at him, and then down to what he was seeing.

Your stomach bulged, the tip of Slender’s cock pushing against your abdomen and making a clear outline for you to gawk at, eyes watering as you felt your body shake with excitement. You watched carefully as Slender slid a claw over top of the bulge, pressing down and making you gasp, tension building in your gut already. “You think I can get deeper?” You shook your head quickly, begging desperately for him not to as your body already felt like it was going to fall apart, overstimulation overtaking you wholly now. “I think I’m gonna try anyways.” You could’ve puked.

Slender tugged his hips back, replacing his claw back onto your hip and giving you a clear shot as the bulge disappeared, eyes wide as you watched him steady himself, tentacle clenching down hard around your throat as he grinned. He snapped back in quickly, length making it halfway inside of you before pushing against your walls, the bulge reappearing and making him stop. You cried out, back snapping as you cried, clawing against your own skin as your brain tensed, pain rocking you. You cock bobbed in the air, body straining as Slender hunched over you, curling his body to engulf you as he snapped again, pushing his cock in and out roughly. The cryptid didn’t seem to know the word gentle, claws already digging into your hips and drawing intensive amounts of blood, pale fingers coated in deep red. But the sight of the bulge pressing and retreating in your gut made you dizzy, throat tensing to scream as the tentacle found its way back to your mouth, shoving itself back inside as you gagged again.

Slenderman knew this was a torture method, a technique catered just to you to break your mind, making it easier for him to use you; as a proxy or otherwise. But as you cried out, cock twitching with every thrust of his thin hips, the cryptid found it hard to restrain himself, failing to hold his composure the deeper he pressed. He was supposed to be the one in charge here, supposed to break you and go from there, using you however he needed. But you just felt so good. The way you clenched around him, the way you fought but failed to disguise your secret want for the pain he was giving you, and especially how you resisted. He liked the way you tried to act hard but fell apart the moment he pushed himself onto you. It was addicting. 

Slender was panting, hot breath pushing from his mouth and brushing against your face, his nonexistent eyes baring into you at the sight of his tentacle choking you, slobber dripping down your chin as you cried. You were stunning, in the worst kind of way. 

Thrusting faster, you wanted to scream, wanted to keep yourself from tearing in half as he pounded against your walls, half words and babbles falling from your full lips. Slender groaned, pushing his phantom touch onto you and pinching your skin, prodding at your mind and body, sending you further into hysteria. “Break. Break for me, boy.” He snapped, trying his best to push more of his length into your tight ass but failing miserably as you went dumb, body hanging limp as twitching and aching at every hard thrust. You had no choice, nothing left in your body to push back with as you came, cock pulsing between your legs and cum shooting across your stomach. It was nauseating as your ass clenched, letting even less of Slender’s length enter until he was snapping his teeth, growling as he dug into your hips, rutting like an animal into you. “You wanted this, you want, you wanted thi-” Slender gripped as his tongue slipped from his teeth, hanging as saliva dripped onto your face, running down your dark cheeks. He couldn’t stop himself, fully aware that you were already beyond pliable, but his own chase for pleasure making him stay. If this was bad, then why did it feel so good? Why did he need to come so deep inside of your ass you’d be feeling it for hours?  He didn’t know, didn’t want to know, all he knew was to keep thrusting, keep digging into your hips until his own cock pulsed, tension building in his gut.

Slender growled low and heavy as he came inside of you, milking his cock with your tight ass as the bulge pushed hard against your stomach, a tentacle quick to wrap around and press down, making the two of you holler out. “Fuckin- Take it.” He snapped through moans, tongue slipping down across your face and lapping at your tears, teeth shining as they nipped at your hot skin. The cryptid stayed there for a minute, relishing in the feeling of you falling apart on him, fully submitted as his hot cum began to leak from your rim, speckling down your cheeks. You could barely breathe, tentacle retreating from your mouth and sliding against your stomach, mixing your cum against your skin. But when he pulled out, rim stinging at the tug, you whined, holding onto his claws as he pulled you off of him, letting his cock fall between his legs. “Boy…” Slender cooed, watching as his cum spilt from your puckered hole, the muscle tensing and untensing as you leaked, whining at the feeling. 

You couldn’t remember much after that, Slender’s tentacles laying you to the ground gently as he redressed himself, letting your cold body numbly shiver as your mind went blank, watching the leaves rustle above you. It wasn’t long before you felt his tentacles circle you again, scooping you off of the ground and covering you with his suit jacket, the fabric covering your entire body and keeping you warm against the night air. You wanted to push away, to forget this ever happened, but more than that, you wanted to sleep. 

-

You truly had no clue how you had gotten into an unfamiliar bed, let alone one in a mansion. The place was huge, with old architecture and a weathered feel surrounding you as you tried to move, sore body preventing you from doing so much as rolling over. But it didn’t take long until you were recovered, Slender appearing every so often to give you mystery food and water before disappearing again. You soon learned of the ‘others’, the proxies that were manipulated, much differently than you, but broken all the same.

You soon learned the purpose of your visions and the reasons behind the horrors you were experiencing. Slender wanted you, and he got you, traditionally or not. You worked for him now, mind pushed well past reason and compliant to his every command with the help of that pesky phantom touch. He used it well, touching you just enough to get you stirred and motivated, eager to please him. 

However, instead of horrific visions of organs and torture, you were met with vibrant flashbacks of that night in the woods, the reason you were even here. It was teasing, almost, like an invitation to sneak away to Slender’s office where the others didn’t dare go, where only you spent the quiet parts of the night. 

So, as you sat on his lap, tentacles twirling around your body and pushing into your lips, you couldn’t be happier.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[lupinsversion]

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐨 - 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

• summary: reader has been struggling to keep her feelings to herself, so what’s a better way to ignore them than to push away her best friend who is the source of these feelings?

• a/n: enjoy part one, part two will be out on 10/14

• contains: billy russo x fem reader, best friend trope, partying, drinking, angst

• word count: 1.7k

masterlist || requests || part two

She was in a predicament. The pair had been friends for what felt like forever, and recently she had started to realize something: she was falling for him. She knew it was foolish, knew that the odds of him returning her feelings were slim to none, but she couldn’t help it. The way he smiled, the sound of his laugh, the way he always knew just what to say to make her day better - it all sent her heart into a flutter.

The problem was, she was terrified of losing him. Billy meant so much to her, more than he could ever possibly know. She feared that if she acted on her feelings, she would ruin their friendship irreparably. So, she tried to bury her feelings, to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat every time he touched her, to act as if everything was normal.

Saturday night was party night. Friends gathered in Frank’s house, music blasting, drinks flowing. She was there too, standing off to the side with a beer in hand, watching as people danced, talked, laughed. Her eyes kept straying towards one person in particular, a certain tall, dark-haired man who was laughing heartily at some joke. Billy Russo.

Billy was in a good mood. The party was lively, full of his favorite people. He’d been mingling, chatting, and laughing like the social butterfly he was. However, his eyes would occasionally flicker towards a specific person, a woman with the most striking features who was standing slightly apart from the group, a beer clutched in her hand. Her.

The one time their eyes met, she cut it short by taking a long swig from the glass bottle. She cursed herself for choosing a lame beer instead of something stronger, she definitely needed something stronger.

Walking over to the kitchen island cluttered in various bottles of different shapes and sizes, she chose the latter and grabbed some tequila, pouring it into a new red solo cup. A piece of her hair fell into her face during the act, causing her to stubbornly huff and attempt to blow it out of the way.

She set the bottle down with a decently loud thud, though the sound was covered by the music that blasted through the speakers. She picked up the red solo cup in one hand whilst the other tapped her fingertips against the marble countertop. With a swift movement, she took a decent amount of tequila into her mouth, humming from the burning sensation it left in her throat

“Trying to drown something there?”

His voice, smooth and deep, suddenly appeared right next to her, causing her to jump slightly. She didn’t hear him approach, and there he was, leaning against the countertop, a half-smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah, my sanity.” She grumbled, placing the solo cup back down onto the counter, her hand remaining around it as she stared at the contents as if it was the most interesting thing in the room.

He let out a soft chuckle, watching her intently. He could tell there was something going on with her, something more than just the typical party boredom. He studied her profile, the way her hair fell into her face before she impatiently blew a strand out of the way again.

His gaze flicked to her hair, noting how it stubbornly fell into her face twice now, almost as if it was trying to get in the way. Watching her blow it back again made him let out an amused scoff.

“You know hair ties are a thing, right?“ He teased lightly, still watching her carefully, noting the way she seemed to be avoiding looking at him directly.

“I don’t have one.” She murmured as she finally looked up at him.

He quirked an eyebrow in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I refuse to believe that a woman with hair like yours doesn’t have even one hair tie.“ He teased once more, his eyes still studying her features as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Plans went astray, didn’t think I would be needing one.” She shrugged, running her finger along the edge of her cup.

He hummed in response, the sound low and deep, almost like a rumble in his chest. His eyes flicked down to her finger tracing the edge of her new cup, then back up to her face.

“Well, lucky for you, I always come prepared.” He drawled out, his smirk growing as he gently lifted up his wrist, showing off the elastic hair tie he had around it.

Her eyes narrowed at the sight of it. “Where on earth did you get that?” It wasn’t a usual sight, or a sight at all really, for Billy to be having a hair tie.

He looked down at the hair tie, a cheeky smile tugging at the corner of his lips, knowing he would get a reaction from her.

“This little thing?“ He said in a faux innocent tone, “Found it a while back, just been holding onto it in case someone needed it.“ He looked back up at her, his smile still present as he held his wrist, the hair tie looped around it, out to her.

“No, thanks.” She said softly, running a hand through her hair to brush some strands out of her face. “I’m not one to wear another woman’s hair tie.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as she refused his offer, his smirk faltering a little, replaced by something else, a different kind of gleam in his gaze. “Who said it was another woman's?“ He retorted, lifting an eyebrow in question, his tone now carrying a hint of curiosity mixed with some kind of challenge.

“It definitely isn’t yours.” She shot back before taking another sip from her drink. She knew that much was true, Billy would never be caught dead tying his hair up.

His lips twitched in a small, almost mocking smile, his arms still crossed over his chest as he looked down at her, his eyes holding her gaze. “Maybe I’m just hiding my secret feminine side.” He drawled, his tone sarcastic but with a hint of playfulness behind it.

“I don’t need your help.” She stated kindly before refilling her drink once it ran empty. She couldn’t be this close to him, not right now, and definitely not sober. “Just go back to joining the party, William.”

He watched as she refilled her drink, his gaze flickering up to her face again, his expression turning more serious as she dismissed him, his name coming out of her lips in a tone that he wasn't used to hearing.

He pushed himself off the counter, standing up straight, his eyes still fixed on her as he moved a little closer, his voice dropping to a quieter volume.

“What’s bothering you?“ He asked gently, his tone softer than before, his eyes searching her face for any sign of an answer.

“Nothing is bothering me.” She shrugged his words off. Everything was wrong, she was growing bothered with every second his cologne filled her senses. “I’m just not in the mood for company.” Yeah, that was a good excuse she thought. Dumbass.

He let out a scoff at her words, unbelieving of her attempt to brush him off with such a piss poor excuse. He knew her better than that. And he wasn’t about to let her get away with it so easily. He leaned in closer, invading her personal space, his head tilting slightly as he studied her face, trying to figure out what was really going on. “Bullshit.“ He said simply, his tone holding a bit of an edge to it, clearly not buying her excuse.

“Bullshit.” She repeated. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.” She continued with a bit of an attitude that she hadn’t meant to have. “Just go.”

He watched her repeat the word, each time with more heat in her tone, his lips pressing together into a tight line as his eyes darkened slightly. He leaned in even closer, his body practically pressed against hers now, pinning her against the counter, his arms now resting on either side of her, trapping her in place.

He was close enough that he could see the subtle shift in her eyes, the way her features tightened as she tried to mask whatever was going on. He could practically smell the tension and something else… frustration?

She hated the way his chest felt against her back, but loved it so much she didn’t want it to go away. ‘We’re just best friends, that’s all’, she kept repeating to herself. Her fists clenched and unclenched against the counter. “Can you back up? I don’t want you touching me.”

His jaw clenched slightly at her words. It was clear she was trying to put up a front, trying to put some distance between them. But he wasn’t about to just back off so easily.

He leaned in even closer, his chest now fully pressed against her back, his breath warm against her ear. “I don’t think you mean that.“ He said lowly, his voice smooth and deep, the sound sending a shiver down her spine despite the way she tensed up in response to his proximity.

“Damnit, William!” Her frustration poured out in her words as she forcefully moved his arm away from her so she was able to escape. “I don’t want to be around you tonight, okay?”

He let her move his arm, though his hands gripped the counter tighter, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his jaw. He was annoyed, frustrated at her for pushing him away, and her words only made his irritation grow. “What the hell is your problem?” He snapped back, his voice rising as he turned to face her, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. “You’ve been avoiding me all night, then when I try to talk to you, you blow me off?”

She huffed, closing her eyes for a second. “Just leave me alone. It’s better.” And then she turned on her heel, pushing through the bodies of the other party goers.

He watched as she walked away, his expression a mix of anger and confusion.

"Better for who!?" He called out after her, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music and chatter of the others. He wanted to go after her, to make her explain herself, but he knew she wouldn't talk even if he did try.

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

© lupinsversion 2024

[autumnshighlady]

Love You For Infinity

Elrond x adopted daughter reader

summary: you’ve been in a depressive episode for weeks, and your thoughts turn dark - luckily, elrond is there to help guide you 

warnings: depression, self harm thoughts, mention of suicide, VERY bad mental health

word count: 3.5k

requests: It’s taken me a year to finish this oneshot due to my mental health. It was a bit difficult to write for reasons I won’t get into, so i apologize for the long wait. If you can relate to the reader in this fic at all, please know that you are not alone, and you are loved <3

IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING WITH THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE AND ARE IN NEED OF HELP PLEASE REACH OUT TO A PROFESSIONAL OR A HOTLINE

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You wandered through the gardens, feeling the warm sunlight soak into your skin. It was a beautiful day – the flowers were in full bloom, their scents filling the spring air, countless colours surrounding you as you made your way down the cobblestone path. The aged moss and lichen draped the marble statues and carvings along the gardens, an ancient beauty contrasted with the new growth. But you could not bring yourself to enjoy the scenery, nor stop to smell the flowers you loved so dearly. For all their vibrance, they seemed dull, muted, despite their bright colours. The glowing sunlight that so many other elves basked in felt too hot, too invasive. The sweet spring scents were choking you, stifling their air in your lungs as you tried to breathe.

            You had once loved wandering through the gardens of Imladris. Now you felt nothing but indifference, the guilt of losing such a joyous area of your life gnawing at your gut. You used to spend hours in these gardens, soaking in the scenery and revelling in the nature around you, content to simply sit on one of the benches or lay down in the grass and let the sounds and scents of the environment wash over your mind.

Now, you could barely stand to walk through the familiar path. Still, it was an improvement, considering it had taken all of your strength to get out of bed this morning. The task alone was daunting, yet you felt no sense of accomplishment. Most days had been like this lately – sleepless nights tossing and turning, yet no motivation to get out of bed when the sun rose, no drive to get yourself ready for the day. Instead you would simply lay there, sheltered in the confines of your room, closing off the rest of the world.

You hated every minute of it. You hated the fact that you felt so useless, the weight of simply getting up being too much to bear. You loathed that no matter how hard you tried, you could not bring yourself to join your friends for breakfast or pick up a good book and read. You hated feeling so weak, so empty – your brain screamed at you to stop wasting away, to get up and do something, anything. But you just could not.

Hours of pondering and crying into your pillow was not enough to figure out why you felt this way. Nothing bad had happened, no traumatic event to set off this episode of pain and depression that felt neverending. You were simply an elf from the Woodland Realm, who had been sent to and raised in Rivendell after the darkness began to creep into what was once Greenwood the Great. You worked as a scholar in the libraries of Imladris, safe within the House of Elrond. You had not seen some violent war, as some of your peers had, nor had you known anyone close to you who died or suffered tragically. Your life was pretty much perfect, your days amounting to reading, art, and simply wandering the grounds – none of which warranting the pain which now seemed to have spread through your entire chest, threatening to cave it in and shatter every piece of you.

You brushed my finger against a rose carelessly, letting your hand wander down from the soft petals to the thorny stalk. You felt a sting of pain, a thorn snagging your pointer finger. Instead of wiping away the blood, you just stood there and dragged your finger further down the thorn, creating a longer red line, content to let droplets of blood spill onto the marble pavement, deep red contrasting with the white floors. At least I could still feel something, you thought bitterly, relishing in the pain slightly. At least you had not gone completely numb.

“My Lady?”

You turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Lord Elrond was standing a few feet behind you, clad in his regal silver robes. He wore no crown, yet still possessed that regal authority that he was so renowned for. You felt your gut twist as you saw the concern flood over his face as you turned your body to face him.

You could see in his eyes he knew something was wrong, but your body gave you away entirely. You knew your eyes looked hollow, framed by dark circles that sucked the life out of your face. Your dress was slightly too big, evidence of the weight you had lost in the past few weeks as you isolated yourself in your room. A sick part of you delighted in it, always having been insecure of your size. Your hair which was usually well-kept and styled hung loosely around your face, knotted and frizzy in some parts as it cascaded down your back.

To cover your shame, you bowed your head in formality. “My Lord Elrond.” You managed to say, staring at the pavement as you inclined your head, eager to get away from his piercing gaze.

Elrond sighed, visibly attempting to soften his gaze. “My dear, must I remind you again that you may simply call me Elrond?”

“My apologies, my Lord.” You mumbled, straightening up and finally meeting his gaze. He did not correct you. Instead, his eyes travelled down to your hand and the blood that still dripped from it.

“You are hurt.” Elrond stated, his eyebrows furrowing. He stepped forward, a gentle hand reaching out as if to assess the wound, but you found yourself stepping back.

“I am alright,” you said quickly, moving your hand back to your side. The blood smeared your midnight-blue robes, but you did not care. “I simply snagged my finger on a thorn. A careless mistake, that’s all.”

Elrond’s eyebrow raised, and dread filled your stomach as you knew he didn’t believe a word you said, or at least he did not buy the too-casual excuse you pulled out of your ass. Your relationship with Elrond had always been relatively close – as close as one can have with an elven Lord of Imladris. When you had arrived in Rivendell as a child, Elrond had ensured you were well cared for. He became involved in your life – often bringing you gifts and trinkets, showing you around the place. Reading to you evolved into him teaching you how to read, sitting at the table with you and his children at dinner. Elrond had taken a special interest in you, always finding a way to make sure you had everything you needed beyond what a normal elven lord would do for their people. Sometimes you wondered if this was due to him losing Celebrían right before you arrived, as if his protective instincts had doubled with wife’s departure to the Undying Lands. He could not spare her from torment, but he could do his best to make sure you never met the same fate. Things changed a bit as you grew older – not wanting to impose on the family he already had before you, you found yourself growing a bit distant. You had no desire to be a burden to him, you were not his blood nor did he raise you, but he still played a paternal role in your life. Even as you began to make a life for yourself in Rivendell, that kindness and care Elrond had shown you as a child prevailed. You and him still had walks in the garden, he still ordered books from other kingdoms he thought may interest you. It was complicated, as he was not your father per say, but he was all you had, and he was important to you. But at the same time, he was still the Lord of the town you had the privilege of residing in and living under.

Guilt clawed away at your gut as you realised how even more distant you had become in these past few weeks. You could not recall the last time you had a conversation with Elrond or sat down for dinner with him. Surely, he noticed your absence but did not want to intrude, trusting you to make your own choices and open up if you were ready.

But you were too far gone for that approach, and deep down you knew that he knew it too.

“That is more than a simple thorn prick, little one,” Elrond said, the concern on his face seeping into his voice. “If you will not tell me what happened, at least let me take care of it for you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but quickly shut up. You knew from the look in his eyes he was not going to let this go. You gulped down your nausea that was produced by your stomach, which churned knowing where this conversation was headed.

Arwen had made attempts to get you out of your room lately, none successfully executed. You cried even harder as she softly knocked at your door, her gentle voice ushering you to come out and join her for breakfast. You knew it broke her heart when you did not answer, unable to even crawl out of bed and unlock the door. She and her father knew something was wrong but had waited for you to come forward to them about it.

You guess they had waited long enough.

With your non-bloody hand, you accepted Elrond’s outstretched arm and began to walk with him towards his quarters. He did not hold you close to him as he usually did, as if he was afraid getting too close would scare you off. Instead, you walked in silence, which you appreciated. Other elves bowed their heads at him as you passed, but you kept your eyes to the ground.

Five minutes later, Elrond shut the door to his room, grabbing some herbs, water, and bandages to tend to your wound. The silence prevailed, and you sat down on the bed and let him take your hand. He began wiping the blood off, waiting a few seconds before saying softly, “I am glad to see you in the gardens again. It has been a few weeks since I last recall you spending time there.”

You sat quietly, torn. Part of you wanted to break down in ugly sobs and explain the struggles of the past few weeks, to open the floodgates and let go of every horrible and depressing thing you had felt and thought you had over the last while. But the other part of you screamed at yourself to suppress it, to make yourself go numb, a practice you now excelled at. Deep down you knew you wouldn’t have to make that choice – Elrond could see right through you. You knew that one look into those kind eyes and you would crumble, so you looked at the floor.

“Arwen has not seen you lately either,” Elrond continued gently, beginning to wrap up your hand in soft bandages. “Neither have I, in fact. Are you sick, my dear?”

“I…” Your throat went dry as you tried to speak. Say something, come on, say anything, you screamed at yourself. But no words came out.

After tying the final knot, Elrond looked up. “I can tell that you are unwell. I understand that you are grown now, but you are still my little one, and I wish you would know that you can always turn to me in time of need.”

At his comforting voice, you involuntarily looked up and met his gaze. Seeing those kind, concerned eyes that had watched over you all of these years opened that gate inside of you that you had tried desperately to keep sealed for so long. Like a dam bursting, tears spilled down your cheeks and your body shook with sobs. The world around you stopped turning, leaving you enveloped in a flood of your own pain. Your chest hurt, feeling as if it was filled with cement. You felt lightheaded, gasping for air between sobs.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t keep living like this. You were in so much pain you couldn’t handle it. You weren’t strong enough, it was going to kill you. Everything you felt raging inside of you was all-consuming, your own thoughts so loud and relentless, screaming at you all day and night to the point where you figured only death would release you from them. You were stuck in your own head, and the fight to swim to the surface was too exhausting to bear.

You felt movement, and the space on the bed beside you shifted as Elrond sat down. He wrapped one arm around you, cradling your head with the other and bringing you close to him. “It’s ok,” He murmured, stroking your hair and holding you as you sobbed uncontrollably. “It’s ok, little one. Let it all out.”

And so you did. You let yourself feel everything – the guilt of neglecting your job, the pain in seeing your friends give up their attempts to see you, the hateful thoughts about yourself that clouded your mind telling you that you were deserving of nothing good, all of it. You clung onto Elrond as you cried, feeling so overwhelmed that you may implode. “I can’t… I can’t, I can’t,” You managed to choke out between sobs. “It hurts so much, please make it stop, please make it stop, Ada.”

Ada.

You had never called Elrond ‘father’ before, always using his name or title. You did not want those around you to think you were getting special treatment, or to seem like you were expecting it. Before you could gather your wits and apologise, you felt him hold you tighter.

“It’s ok,” He repeated. “You are safe. You are strong. You can overcome this, but not if it is burning up inside of you. Let it all out, my dear.”

You nodded into his chest, your relentless chants of I can’t fading out as you slowly regained control over your breathing. The raging sea that was storming inside of you calmed down to a simple rocky surface, the weight of everything lifting off of your chest slightly. You stayed there for a few minutes, letting Elrond hold you close as you calmed down.

He had done so much for you, more than you could ever hope to repay him for. Yet here you were, crying like a child despite the perfect, safe life he had worked so hard to provide you with. What a fucking ungrateful brat, you thought to yourself bitterly, allowing yourself a cruel sob.

You managed to peel yourself away from Elrond, sitting upright. You put your head in your hands, wiping away your tears as you took a shaky breath. His hand remained over your shoulder, rubbing in comforting circles. “I am sorry.” He murmured.

You laughed half-heartedly. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who should be sorry, not you.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Elrond said softly, but firmly. “I am sorry because I should have noticed this sooner. I should have noticed that you were hurting and found a way to help before you suffered this much. I failed you.”

You pried your head from your hands and turned to face him, and your heart nearly broke. The noble elven lord looked so sad, so guilt-ridden at the sight before him. An elf who had seen thousands of years of suffering, who had lived through the most brutal wars in Arda’s history, looked more defeated than ever as he looked at you. That guilt churned inside you again as you realised you had caused this. “You have far from failed me, Elrond.” You said quietly. “You have given me everything, more than I could ever ask for. I have no reason to be this sad or act this way.”

Elrond cocked his head, brushing the hair out of your face. “Is that what you truly think?” He asked gently. “That you need a reason to be sad?”

“Uh…yes?” You said, puzzled. “There is nothing in my life that is going wrong, or even remotely horrible. I have not been traumatised by battle or had to run from a sword. My village was never raided by orcs, I have never known hunger nor harsh winters. I truly have nothing to be sad about.”

Elrond paused for a minute, contemplating your words. “Just because you have not fought in war does not mean you have not suffered,” He said. “You are a young elf; you are allowed to feel whatever your heart feels. Circumstance does not spare you from pain or suffering. Things like this are not always the result of war or hardship. Sometimes we hurt for no reason, and no amount of explanation will reassure us nor will it change what we feel in our hearts.”

You sighed, cheeks damp. “It doesn’t make me feel any less ungrateful. I’ve never even been courted. Nobody has ever looked at me like that. All of my friends have been shown that type of affection, except me. I don’t understand what makes them worthy of it and not me.”

“You are young, little one. You have centuries ahead of you to find whatever love you may wish. You’ve only met a fraction of the people who will come to love you. Give yourself time, allow yourself to be comfortable in your own skin. I know it is easier said than done. If you cannot be at peace with yourself, no soul in this world can fill that void for you.”

You swallowed thickly. He was right – you felt like a stranger in your own body. Like the bones and flesh beneath your skin belonged to another. But sitting here with the elf who had been a pillar in your life for as long as you remembered, you began to feel more at ease within yourself. You sniffled, wiping your tears from your face with the back of your hand. Elrond reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, dabbing at your cheeks gently.

“Someday,” he said softly. “Someone will love you exactly how you deserve to be loved. I did not meet my wife until I was 1759, and even then, I loved her in secret for many a century.”

 Arwen had told you stories of her mother. It always brought a deep sadness to her eyes as she remembered her mother’s grim departure to the Undying Lands. You knew the tale all too well, for talk of the tragedy Elrond had been faced with travelled all the way to the Woodland realm. When you had first arrived in Rivendell, the wound Celebrían’s departure had cut him deep. It took years of you getting to know him before his eyes went from hollow to bright. One day, you had snuck a book from the library on the elves of the First Age. It was then when you stumbled across Elrond’s story, a sad pain in your heart as you read about him and his brother’s early years during the wars and the period that followed.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a few moments. “About your wife. And everything that has happened to you.” You weren’t sure what had prompted you to say that, for you blurted out the words before you could stop and think. Elrond had never discussed his past with you besides the occasional story told in the grand scheme of sharing wisdom and life lessons.

But there was no defensiveness, for Elrond simply put a hand on your shoulder. “Thank you,” was all he said.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being your hitched breath as you calmed your breathing down. A slight weight had been lifted off your shoulders, lessening the crushing feeling in your chest. For weeks, you had feared Elrond finding out about your depressive episode and thinking less of you for it. Deep down, you knew that was illogical, but the thought had haunted you nonetheless.

“I want to help you, my dear,” Elrond said, grabbing your hands and looking at you with all the love and care a father would. “But only if you will have it. If you do not wish for my interference, I understand and will be there if you need me. But I urge you not to walk this path alone.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do,” you said quietly.

“I cannot change what you feel in your heart and soul. But there are little changes, perhaps, we can make to get you on the right path. If you would like, I shall have our breakfasts delivered to your room, and I may join you for breakfast and then we can go on a walk. It does not have to be long, nor strenuous. Simply something to get you up and moving at the beginning of the day. Once you climb that step, you may find things become much easier.”

Emotion clogged your throat. “You would do that for me?”

Elrond gave you a gentle smile. “For you, anything. I may not have fathered you, but you are my family. And I will move heaven and earth just to make you closer to the stars if that’s what would make you happy.”

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Arteries x Reader] 3751 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? ARRAIGNED MARRIAGE TROPE EXCEPT BOTH PARTIES ARE PISSY ABOUT IT, not proofread LOL.

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions

A/n: Ur gonna hate me but I’m splitting what was originally going to be this chapter in half. It’s getting longggg.

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Dune masterlist

Seven———

The next day you were awakened by the sound of knocking at your bedroom door. You slowly sit up in bed, stretching your shoulders and back as you rouse yourself from sleep.

One of the house maids is at your door, she bows respectfully before placing a robe down on a nearby chair.

“My lady, you have been summoned to the baths,” she says politely, “they have prepared everything for you.”

You smile at the maids statement, feeling a slight jolt of amusement. You had almost forgotten about the promised pampering session, and the sudden reminder fills you with delight.

The maid moves aside as you rise from your bed and change into the robe.

She leads you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. You follow behind her, your steps light. The estate is bustling with activity, servants scurrying around making last-minute adjustments and preparations for the upcoming celebrations.

The bath chamber is a large, elegant affair, the walls and floors made of polished white marble. The ceiling is painted with images of clouds and the sky, making you feel like you are outdoors. It is dimly lit, a soft glow emanating from the walls, lighting the various bathtubs and areas for massage.

The bath chamber is staffed with a dozen or so servants who spring into action as you enter. Preparing bath salts and oils, massages and wraps, and a myriad of other treatments. The attendants move efficiently and quickly, a product of their years of experience.

You step into a tub of lukewarm water and soak for a bit before an attendant helps you out and guides you to a plush table. You lay down and she applies massage oils and works on your muscles. You let out a soft moan of satisfaction as the tightness and soreness vanishes from your muscles. Eventually another attendant starts applying a mask of clay and honey all over your body while another performs a manicure-pedicure.

It is pure bliss, every sensation of your body being taken care of to your heart's content. You can hardly remember a time when you felt so relaxed and content.

You have several hours to yourself to rejuvenate. You spend the day reading, soaking in the various baths and pools. The soft white pillows and couches are as comfortable as any bed.

You lose track of time, simply enjoying the various sensory experiences as you immerse yourself in the water and soak up the scents and aromas surrounding you. The staff keep your food trays topped up, and new trays of fruit and snacks are continually laid out for you.

You hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching, Delia’s distinctive, confident stride, her steps light and swift. The bath attendants bow politely as she enters, and she acknowledges them with a respectful nod.

As she makes her way over to you she rests one arm against the edge of the bath you are sitting in. Her gaze is soft and caring, her voice gentle as she speaks.

“You look positively radiant, my lady.”

You smile at her, your eyes glimmering in the light, “I feel radiant,” You reply, stretching your arm out to take her hand. She gives you a curt nod of acknowledgement before taking a breath.

“The guests have started to arrive for tomorrow.” Delia informs you, “You have a few hours to yourself before you have your final dinner with the Duke and his mother prior to your wedding day”

Her words snap you back to reality. Your smile slightly falters as you come to the realization that your time alone is coming to an end.

“Yes… The guests have started arriving haven't they.” you trail off, a subtle expression of longing crossing your face as you glance around the baths once more. “I will miss this.”

She gives your hands a light squeeze. Delia always carries this soft sympathy which almost breaks your heart—There are moments where she looks at you as though you were her own daughter.

“I know, my lady” She replies before releasing your hands and steps back, “let us get ready” she says gently, as if sensing your reluctance.

There was no point in resisting or protesting. There was work to be done, political connections to forge and strengthen.

— — —

You follow her through the hallways, a flurry of servants scurrying about around you. The castle is a hive of activity, people rushing to and fro, last minute preparations.

Eventually, you reach the lavish doors to the dining hall, pausing as you await for one of the guards to open it for you.

You take a breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. The dinner itself was a lavish affair, the courses served on delicate porcelain china and the crystal glasses glimmering in the candlelight. Paul was already waiting at the table with Jessica seated beside him.

Jessica leads the conversation, her words witty and filled with excitement for the days ahead. Eventually, the conversation turns to the political situation. You take a sip of your wine, your thoughts immediately turning to the political situation. You have spent years preparing for this moment, and you do not intend to waste the opportunity. You speak in a confident, persuasive tone, outlining your insights and strategies.

Paul leans forward, his attention fixated on you, his admiration for your skills and abilities evident in his expression.

“There is one final issue we must discuss,” Jessica says, her tone serious as she sets down her glass of wine, the delicate crystal making a soft sound as it hits the table. Her blue eyes are firm, and there is no hint of hesitation or reluctance when she begins to speak.

“You need to have children, my lady,” she says bluntly.

Your heart sinks, and you feel the anxiety of the future rising again. Her words are direct and unapologetic; she is not attempting to soften the blow. She is simply stating a fact, and it hits you like a gut punch. “Your role as a bride, especially of your stature, necessitates heirs. It is a political need.”

She is not simply referring to a desire to produce children eventually, she is talking about immediately. A child will further legitimize the Atreides in the Imperial family, and a royal couple will be expected to waste no time in doing their duty.

“ I am aware of my duties as a wife,” you peer into her blue eyes, “I know what must be done”

Dinner ends with a soft murmur of praise and approval. Paul's attention remains fixated on you for a moment, his expression serious and thoughtful. He stands up, and Jessica's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she too stands. The servants quickly begin to clear up the table.

Paul offers you his arm, and you take it, allowing him to lead you from the dining room back to your shared hallway.

“Quite the day tomorrow hm?” You end your sentence with a small hum.

Paul nods solemnly, a soft smile playing across his face. "It will be a historic occasion," he says, leaning his head near yours to whisper softly, "I do not know if I will be able to sleep tonight." His tone is sincere and sympathetic, and there is a hint of nervousness at the realization of what he is facing.

You let out a small chuckle, “Likewise, I might have Delia sedate me.” Paul laughs softly at your joke. There is a moment of genuine amusement in his expression. He likes the way you handle stress, the way you deal with tension and anxiety with humor. It is a glimpse of your true personality, behind the carefully crafted mask of poise and diplomacy.

He takes a deep breath, as to steel himself, and you can tell that he has moved into a more serious frame. He stops and faces you, his expression gentle but resolute.

“Try to get some rest tonight,” he says, “tomorrow is an important day for both of us.”

Both of you were well aware that tomorrow will mark a pivotal turning point in your lives as you come to a stop outside the door to your suite, a brief moment of silence hangs over you like a cloud.

“Tomorrow our destinies are intertwined” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “are you ready?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, and you take a deep breath. You have never been this uncertain, yet somehow you feel more sure of yourself than ever before.

You give him a firm nod, your expression set and determined. He bows his head slightly in understanding and steps away, continuing down the hall. As his footsteps recede into the distance you watch him go. As he approaches the door to his room he pauses for a moment, his silhouette framed in the doorway. He turns back one more time, his hand resting on the doorframe. His eyes meet yours and there is a moment of understanding passing between the two of you, as if a silent promise has been made.

He steps through the doorway and disappears from view, leaving you alone in the darkened, emptied corridor. You can hear the distant sounds of the servants making preparations and you feel a sudden wave of anxiety wash over you. Your heart is pounding and you can feel your nerves beginning to fray. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself; there is nothing to be done but to get some rest and prepare yourself for the inevitable. Tomorrow will be a long, emotionally draining day, and you need to be at your best.

With that you turn to face your chambers, entering and shutting the door firmly behind you. Once you fully enter you are met with the warm glow of candles and the comfortable surrounding of your personal space. Delia is bustling about, ensuring that everything is in order, and you can sense her nervousness and excitement.

You can see the glint of anticipation in her eyes as she smiles warmly, “My lady,” she says, her voice soft and respectful, “are you ready for tomorrow?”

You smile slightly, giving yourself a moment to adjust to the idea, “as i’ll ever be,” you say quietly, your tone laced with a mix of trepidation.

“Of course, my lady,” Delia says, nodding in understanding. She immediately begins to rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a soft nightgown and various other items for you to change into.

You watch her for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You try to push aside the anxiety and focus on the task at hand. Sleep.

Delia hands you a sedative, which you gladly take, and you wash it down with the cup of sleepy time tea sat on your nightstand. With one final huff you climb into your bed, letting the soft sheets envelop you as Delia begins to blow out the various candles positioned around your room. Soon you are in complete darkness as you hear your dor click shut, signaling her leave.

Your eyelids grow heavy as you start to feel the weight of sleep pulling you into the darkness. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains becomes hazy and distorted, the shadows dancing on the walls like a silent, dreamlike show. Your mind begins to wander, fragmented images and emotions flash through your mind like a slideshow of memory and imagination. For the first time since your arrival on Caladan, you do not dream.

You are pulled from your sleep as light filters in through the, now open, curtains, landing on your face.

“Goodmorning my lady” Delia says, standing near your window, “I'm sorry to wake you, but the day has begun.” The words send a jolt through your body causing you to sit up in bed, the reality of the day quickly coming to the forefront of your mind. You take a deep breath in an attempt to collect yourself,

“Thank you Delia,” you say as you stretch out your arms, feeling the knots and kinks from sleeping begin to fade. You swing your legs over the bed and stride to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face as you grip the sink and stare at yourself in the mirror.

You hear the sound of your door opening and the ruffeling of dresses. Delia. You exit the bathroom and see an array of morning dresses laid out for you.

Delia greets you with a smile and instantly delves into the schedule for the day, “Your schedule starts early I'm afraid,” she says, her tone earnest and efficient. “Breakfast is served in the small dining area to the left of the main hall, Lady Jessica will be joining you today. You will then be escorted to a dressing room to prepare you for the ceremony. The ceremony will be in the great hall at noon,” she takes a breath, “then there will be a reception and a few diplomatic meetings scheduled in the latter half of the day.”

Her words are like a deluge, washing over you like a tidal wave of responsibilities and expectations. You take a breath, trying to absorb everything she's said.

Soon you are swiftly dressed and on your way to breakfast, Delia trailing at your side. As you reach the small room you see Jessica waiting, dressed in a deep red gown, her hair pulled back into a simple yet elegant braid. She smiles as you enter, her eyes filled with pride and excitement.

“Good morning,” she says as you take a seat against her, her voice is warm as she busies herself with making you a cup of tea. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected. I'm looking forward to the day,” you reach for the teacup, taking a sip of the steaming liquid. It helps calm your nerves, even if it's just for the moment that you feel the warmth go down your throat.

Jessica nods, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Today is a momentous occasion, and it’s important to start the day off on the right foot. I have full confidence in you. You will do well today.” Her words sink in, bolstering your resolve, and confidence. You take another sip of the tea, feeling the warmth spread through your body even further.

“Thank you, Lady Jessica.” You say, smiling faintly.

“”Of course” her expression softened to one of affection, “you are soon to be part of the family.” With that, she turns her attention to the breakfast spread laid out in front of you, gesturing for you to help yourself to the various dishes laid out before you.

The breakfast is an assortment of simple yet delicious fare; fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and a selection of the finest meats and cheeses. You help yourself to a few items, relishing the taste and texture of the food as you welcome the distraction from the anxiety swirling in your mind.

Through the meal, you both chat softly about the various guests who will be attending the ceremony and the different diplomatic interactions that will no doubt take place.

Jessica offers her perspective and advice in a way that is both insightful and reassuring, and you begin to feel more prepared for the day’s events. You are aware that many of her inputs are that of the Bene Gesserit, and the more in detail she goes about the politics you slowly start to realize the true influence of this faction in Imperial politics.

As you finish your breakfast, Jessica dabs her lips with a napkin and looks at you, “It’s nearly time,” she says, her tone steady yet excited.

You nod to the attendant, who quickly steps forward to escort you to the changing room. Once you approach the lavish room, Delia immediately springs into action. She dismisses the servants and grabs ahold of your arm, pulling you into the room.

“Quickl, my lady, we must get you dressed into the ceremony attire.” Her voice is ecstatic as she helps you out of the breakfast gown and quickly guides you to a table where your gown is laid out.

It is a work of art, made from the finest silk, and shimmers softly in the light. As you begin to step into it you feel the silken fabric glide over your body, the weight and texture immediately grounding and empowering you.

Within moments, with the help of various other attendants, you are dressed. The gown fits your frame perfectly.

You gaze into a mirror adjacent to where you are standing and it all begins to become very real. You are to be Empress, your father is to be executed, and you are to marry. WIth a sigh you turn away and stride to take your seat at the vanity, where the hairstylist is waiting to do your hair alongside the makeup artist.

In a whirl of powders and sprays your hair is weaved into an elegant braid, a few strands laying around your face, which glimmers in the light. You close your eyes as your jewelry is put on and a few adornments are put in your braid.

As you stand all the attendants watch in awe, you are befitting th4e elegant and regal occasion of the day.

“You look magnificent” Delia says, adoration dripping in her voice, “Are you ready?” She asks softly.

With that you take a deep breath to gather your composure, smoothing out the gown with your hands. Despite the nerves still fluttering deep inside you, you feel a newfound sense of confidence and poise. “Yes,” you say, voice steady and determined, “I’m ready.”

With that Delia takes hold of your arm, giving it a light squeeze, as you turn to leave the room, your gown swishing softly with each step. You are led to a small, private room adjacent to the great hall. The room is dimly lit, the heavy velvet drapes drawn closed to create a sense of enclosure and solitude. As you step inside, you can her the soft murmur of voices and chatter from the other room, the sounds of the bustling guests filtering through the thick wood door.

You take a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you look around the room, taking in the simple yet elegant decorations and furniture. A small chair is placed by the door, and a small table holds a tray of light refreshments, untouched and waiting.

“Wait here while I make one final round to ensure everything is ready” Delia says softly, “I'll be back in just a moment my lady” She then slips out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.

You are left alone in the room, the sound of your own breathing echoing softly in the quiet space. You take a moment to ground yourself, closing your eyes and focusing on your breath, slowing it and deepening it until your heart rate has slowed to a steady beat.

The silence in the room is both calming and claustrophobic, and you find yourself wandering around the small space, your hands touching the smooth fabric of the drapes and the cool, polished wood of the furniture. The wait feels endless, but you know that you must remain patient and composed until the time comes.

The sounds from the great hall seem to grow louder and more insistent, the excited chatter and laughter seeping through the closed door. You can almost picture the scene unfolding just a few feet away from you, the guests gathering and taking their seats, the ceremony attendants going about their duties.

You can hear the sound of the orchestra playing a beautiful instrumental piece, the melodic strains filling the air. It’s a signal that the ceremony is about to begin, and you can hear the guests in the great hall hushing and settling into their seats. You can imagine Paul preparing to walk out, his steps measured and steady, his presence commanding and regal.

You stand near the door, listening intently for any further sounds or cues that would indicate that it's your turn to walk out. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, and in the quiet of the small room, your thoughts and emotions threaten to drown you.

suddenly, the door creaks open, and Delia steps into the room, her expression calm and composed. "it's time, my lady," she says softly, her voice carrying an air of urgency. "the ceremony is about to begin. are you ready?"

your heart skips a beat at her words, and you nod, gathering your composure and courage. you take one final deep breath, smoothing out your gown and straightening your shoulders. "yes," you reply, your voice steady and firm. "I'm ready."

Delia nods in approval, her eyes gleaming softly in the dim light. "you're going to do splendidly," she whispers, her voice tinged with a sense of pride. "just remember to stay composed, and everything will be alright."

with those words, she moves towards you, giving a final inspection to make sure that everything is in order. She adjusts a stray lock of hair, her touch gentle and reassuring.

Finally satisfied, she steps back and motions for you to follow her out. "Let's go," she says, her voice soft but firm. "The ceremony awaits."

you take a deep breath and follow her out of the room, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpet that lines the hallway. your heart is pounding in your chest as you approach the great hall, the sound of the music and the murmured conversations growing louder with every step.

the great hall doors are massive, carved from the finest wood and polished to a mirror-like finish. the intricate patterns and motifs etched into the wood are a testament to the skill and craftsmanship that went into its creation. as you approach the doors, you can hear the sounds of the ceremony attendants bustling about on the other side, readying themselves for the ceremony. the air is thick with anticipation and excitement, and you can almost feel the energy simmering just beyond the threshold.

As the doors slowly swing open, you see the great hall spread before you, a grand space filled with guests and attendants. The room is bathed in a warm, golden light, and the air is filled with the scent of roses and incense. As you step forward to the aisle, the eyes of the guests turn to you, and a hushed silence falls over the room.

———

Next chapter

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🍾Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @serapinaxx @goldeneagles-posts @star-maker-rain-dancer @beebumbo

[seventeenreasonswhy]

SVT Reacts to Seeing Their S/O in Glasses for the First Time 🤓

~ SFW ~

OT13!Seventeen x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Content: SFW, Fluff!, can be read as established relationships or new relationships, just boys being smitten! 🥰

Author's note: Sweet boys being sweet! They are whipped! This one's for my fellow glasses girls out there. (No affiliation with eyebuydirect, they just had a wide range of frames lol)

************************************************************************

S.Coups

You walk out of the bathroom in these frames, with your hair gathered in a lose bun, ready for bed. S.coups is lounging on your bed already, but he has never seen you in glasses before and does a double-take, looking up from his phone. They suit your face so well. It’s like he’s seeing the real shape of your face for the first time. God, she's so cute, he thinks. “You’re so cute,” he hears himself say aloud. You turn to him suddenly, a deep blush spreading across your face at his sudden compliment.

Jeonghan

You walk into the coffee shop wearing these, your hair falling in tresses over your cute cream-colored sweater. You looked so relaxed and cute. Jeonghan almost didn’t realize it was you when he saw this cute girl in glasses walk through the door. “Wah, Y/N!” he can’t help but cry out, beaming as you get closer. “You’re so cute!” You tease him about sounding so surprised, but he ignores you and tells you that he loves how you look in your glasses, he thinks you're adorable. He can’t stop smiling and simping as you drink your coffees.

Joshua

You meet Joshua at the museum wearing these. You were running late and didn’t have time to put in your contacts. You were dressed in a chic turtleneck and grey marbled overcoat. He spotted your high bun right away, and as soon as he saw your glasses he smiled. “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said. It’s true, you hadn’t really worn them around him yet. You didn’t prefer them. “You look sexy.” he said softly, and you felt something catch in your chest. maybe you would wear them more often...

Jun

As Jun walks by the laundromat, he does a double take. He sees you by chance, sitting at a counter in the window passing the time reading as you waited for your laundry to finish. He was surprised that he recognized you—he had never seen you wearing glasses before. You were concentrating hard on the book you were reading, so you didn’t see him kind of watching you from the sidewalk. You had your hair half up in a messy-but-sexy bun, long strands hanging between you and your book. You chewed on your fingernails as you read. So cute, he thought. He finally enters the laundromat and comes up behind you. You jump a little, but quickly recover and smacking him with your book. “You look cute,” he says, ignoring your playful smack and tucking a strand of your hair away from your face affectionately, making you blush all of the sudden.

Hoshi

You told Hoshi that you would give him a ride home from dance practice, but he almost misses you in the company parking lot because you're wearing glasses he’s never seen you in before. You only need them to drive at night, but you kind of like them. They frame your face really well and draw attention to your pretty eyes and cheekbones. Hoshi is beaming at you as he gets into the passenger seat. “Ah...” he sighs out softly, a wry smile on his face, as if he's wistful he hadn’t seen you in your glasses sooner, “so you wear glasses, ah...” You smirk, glancing at him sideways. He’s obviously admiring your face in these frames. He holds your hand as you drive, continuing to stare at you while you giggle at his blatant simping.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo has been waiting for a chance to see you in your glasses! You'd mentioned wearing them sometimes when you got tired of your contacts but you’d only recently found frames that you actually kind of liked. You finally wear them one day, styling them with your favorite oversized sweater and baggy pants, your hair in a high, fluffy ponytail. Needless to say, Wonwoo is! smitten!! He finds the dark frames so cool. You look effortless, your glasses adding some mystique to your already very beautiful aura. Unconsciously, he gets a little clingier with you... “What’s up?” you ask him as he fiddles with the sleeve of your big sweater, standing closer to you than usual. “I like your glasses,” he says, and his low, quiet tone makes your heart stop for a second.

Woozi

Woozi loves when you wear your cute glasses. He thinks you look so sweet and squishy, for real. He’d be all over you, pinching your cheeks and tickling you. He can’t help it, something about the big wire frames on your cute pouty face with your pink sweatshirt is just so cute. He wants to squeeze you like a plushy stuffed animal.

The8

He finds your trendy glasses particularly well suited to the outfit you’re wearing today. You look so cool. The whole look really aligns with your style: striking and simple. He catches himself staring longer than usual at your bone structure, really appreciating the naturally beautiful shape of your face and the sweetness of your eyes, accented by those simple frames. He is really staring at you, and you playfully push his face away, but he just keeps looking at you. “You’re so pretty,” he says, smiling at you. You can’t bring yourself to meet his overwhelming gaze, but he doesn’t even mind.

Mingyu

Mingyu sees you hunched over your laptop at the kitchen table when he gets home late. You’re wearing glasses as you stare at the screen, your hair up in a messy bun, wearing one of his sweatshirts. You look up at him as he enters the room, happy to see him and for the excuse to take a break from your studying. “I like your glasses,” he says as you wrap your arms around his middle and give him a big, stress-relieving hug. He pulls back to look at you again. “They really suit you.” You thank him and turn to sit back down, but he pulls you close again, still looking at you. “So cute!” he smiles as he slides his palms up to the sides of your face, gently squeezing your cheeks, puffing your lips out into a fish-lipped shape as he gives you a kiss on the forehead. You can only laugh at how over the top he was being over some plain old blue light glasses, lol.

DK

DK was kind of early to your apartment to pick you up for your date. He figured he could just hang out with you as you got ready. but you answered the door with your hair still up, a toothbrush hanging out of your mouth, and glasses on. he reflexively laughed at how cute and frazzled you were, but you cut him off by trying to ask him why he was so early. unfortunately, the toothbrush in your mouth turned your words to mush, only making DK laugh more at how cute you were, following you to the bathroom as you stomped away in a hurry to continue getting ready. he slowly stops laughing but continues to beam at you through the reflection in the bathroom mirror as he leans against the doorframe behind you, watching your face as you continue to brush your teeth and take your hair down. “You look so cute in glasses, y/n” he says, “why don’t you wear them more?” he pretends to pout, like you’ve been keeping this from him on purpose. “I always wear contacts,” you say, flustered at his presence behind you, the way he’s looking at you through the bathroom mirror. you move to take your glasses off, but you feel a hand suddenly grasping at your forearm. “No, leave them on,” he softly whines from behind you, and you almost jump away from him. but he’s holding you. you just hope that he can’t hear your heartbeat, it’s pounding so hard. “Okay,” you say, blushing beet red. DK just keeps hold of your arm, smiling at you as you both head out the door.

Seungkwan

You told Seungkwan to pick you up at the office after another long day. He hated to see you overworking yourself so much and brings snacks for the car ride home to cheer you up. You climb in the car, and he notices your new glasses right away. He loves when you wear glasses, he thinks they make you look so sexy and sweet. He keeps stealing glances at you as you vent about your day. As you make your way home, he lets his free hand idly float over to play with your hair, soon rubbing his thumb gently against the side of your cheek. You smile at the touch, grateful that he’s being so loving right now. “I like your glasses,” he says softly, and you blush at his earnestness. “They’re so pretty on you.” You float your hand up to his, cupping it against your face, planting a quick kiss on his palm.

Vernon

He opens the incoming FaceTime call to a familiar face, but with a new twist – he’s never seen you in your glasses before. “Do you want me to pick something up, I’m at the convenience store right now,” you ask him, looking at the aisles of snacks in front of you. he just watches you as you hold the tiny microphone built into the side of your headphone wire up to your pretty lips. your lips looked even sweeter and more plush contrasted with these frames on your face. “Did you get glasses?” he asks, not answering your question. “Hm? Oh no, I just hardly ever wear them.” “You look good in them,” he says, smirking at you. He looks whipped, you think with a little inward giggle. “Thank youuu,” you smile, ”I’ll get us some ice cream~.”

Dino

Sometimes you stop by the practice room when you know Dino is there very late to bring him a snack or to watch his new choreography. Tonight is the first night that you’ve gone to visit him bare-faced and your glasses on though. You usually get a little more dolled up, but you fell behind on all of the tasks you had to get done today and didn’t get around to primping. But, it turns out Dino doesn’t care. In fact he stops the choreo he’s in the middle of after catching a glimpse of you in your cute frames from the corner of his eye. “Wah, I like your glasses,” a big smile plastered on his face. He holds his arms out, reaching for you even as he walks across the practice room toward you. You meet and rub noses with your lightly sweaty boyfriend as he takes you lightly by the forearms, leaning toward you as he thanks you for bringing snacks. He can’t help but touch the frames on your face, taking in your more casual look. “How are you so pretty?” He breathes out, and you lightly smack him for being so candid in front of all the other dancers.

[steveslevis]

delicate - chapter two

is it chill that you're in my head?

pairing: steve harrington x reader

chapter contents: not a lot happening in this one, just the two of them being awkward

wc: 3.6k

a/n: hope you guys enjoy!!! sorry it took so long, hopefully ch3 won't take me as long

Everything that comes after your so-called interview at Ralph’s happens in what seems like a matter of seconds. Before you know it, you’re standing on Fifth avenue with Eddie the next day, your two large suitcases, one duffle bag and backpack being the only things you needed to tow across the city. 

Eddie had been the opposite of excited for you, in all honesty. He told you damn near a thousand times over a span of 24 hours that you should just move in with him and Alexander, and that you should try to negotiate with him about still working for him until you can save for your own place. Much to his dismay, you ignored your best friend’s concerns, shaking your head with confidence every time he tried to ask if you would stay. You had a good feeling about this, the voice in the back of your head telling you to go for it, that it would be a good growth opportunity, that you would never heal by spending your time rotting on Eddie’s couch. 

So that’s how you ended up here, walking into one of the most expensive luxury housing buildings in the entire city with your weary best friend in tow. The two of you had made the mile and a half long trek across the city instead of using one of the Harrington family’s chauffeurs – you had insisted to Steve that it wasn’t necessary for the little amount of belongings that you had. 

“Holy shit,” you hear Eddie mumble behind you while you push open the heavy glass door and walk into the lobby. 

The lobby is grand, with white marble floors, sleek black walls, gold accents, and arguably the biggest crystal chandelier you’ve ever seen hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. There’s two gray leather couches sitting in front of a modern fireplace on one side, while a black granite front desk is on the other, with a young, blonde woman standing behind it. 

“Hi there!” The woman calls to you from behind the desk, bearing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen as she eyes you and Eddie up and down, likely judging how out of place the two of you look in such a luxurious area, “can I help you two?”

“Yeah, we’re looking for the Harrington residence,” you say while approaching the desk with an equally fake smile plastered on your face, “are we in the right place?”

The woman, whose name is Carolyn according to her nametag, immediately turns off the fake niceties once you say who you’re looking for. The fake smile falters for a moment and you see her furrow her brow while looking you over once again. She looks down to the desk in front of her for a moment, reaching for an envelope that’s off to the side.

“You must be the new nanny,” she says, and you almost swear you hear a hint of jealousy in her voice as she speaks.

“Yes, that’s me.” you say with a small chuckle to yourself, raising your brow at her when she nearly frowns at your response. 

Her lips fall into a thin line at that, her hand coming up from behind the counter to shove the envelope onto the granite in front of you. 

“Here’s the access card and key to the apartment,” she says to you as you grab the envelope, inside is a glimmering golden card and a silver key that’s attached to a small tag with your name on it, “you have to scan the card in the elevator to get to the top floor, then use the key to open the door. Don’t lose them, or you’ll have to pay for them.” 

She turns back to the computer in front of her without a word as you nod. You turn to Eddie once she does, exchanging a confused look before making your way towards the elevator on the other end of the lobby. You scan the key card and the elevator’s doors automatically close as the circular button with a large “P” at the top of the pad lighting up as it begins its ascent. 

“Jesus, the fucking penthouse?” Eddie scoffs under his breath in disbelief, shifting your duffle bag on his shoulder.

It only takes a minute for the elevator to reach the top floor, the door of the elevator sliding open to reveal a short hallway with only one door at the end. The two of you step out and make your way over to the large front door, you look over to Eddie once you stand in front of it. The look on your face is filled with nervousness and excitement, but mainly nervousness.

“Should I knock?” you question, staring down at your key.

“You have a key for a reason, don’t you?” he quips, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You shoot him a quick glare and sigh, flipping the key in your fingers a few times as you try to compose yourself. Eventually you reach for the door, sliding the key into the lock to open it. The door swings open and you’re met with arguably the nicest apartment – penthouse, rather – that you’ve stepped foot in while living in the city. 

It’s much more cozy and less grandiose than you had expected, a stark contrast from the marble lined, golden and glittering lobby you had just entered from. You step into the living room when you first walk in, a large olive green couch and two matching chairs face a fireplace on the far wall, a comically large TV hanging above it. Everything is clean and definitely luxurious, but also feels lived-in, much more welcoming and warm than the rest of the complex. 

The kitchen is to the left through a wide archway, but you don't have time to explore, as your thoughts are interrupted by Steve bounding into view from the kitchen. There’s a welcoming smile on his face as he steps into the living room, wiping his hands with a kitchen towel before tossing it over his shoulder to free his hands. He’s wearing a pair of slacks and a navy button down. His hair is a little more disheveled than it was last time the two of you met, but still looked perfectly put together somehow. You could tell that he had recently gotten done with work for the day, partially from the fact that he had two buttons undone on his shirt, and partially from the air of remnant stress that he was carrying. 

“Welcome! Please, come on in.” Steve says with a smile as he watches Eddie close the door behind him. “Thank you for coming on such short notice, again. I really appreciate you starting so soon.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad to help.” you say, shifting the backpack on your shoulders.

Steve extends a hand to Eddie to introduce himself, and Eddie gives him a reserved introduction in return, still hesitant about everything as he scans the penthouse. 

Steve looks between you and Eddie once more, eyeing the four bags between the two of you before asking, “Is this everything you had to bring up, or is there still more downstairs?”

“Yeah, this is it, actually.” you laugh, knowing the amount of belongings you had was quite underwhelming, “that’s why I said we could just make the hike with the bags instead of taking one of your cars.”

“Oh, it would’ve been no problem either way.” he says while shaking his head, reaching for the suitcase that was by your side, “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”

Steve guides the two of you to a room off to the right on the first floor, explaining that the people who owned the penthouse before him had used it as a place for their in-laws to stay. He opened the door to the room, letting you and Eddie walk in before him. The bedroom was much nicer than you had expected in all honesty, with a queen-sized bed in the middle adorned in obviously expensive cream-colored linens, a sitting area equipped with a stocked bookshelf (perks of being employed by the CEO of a famous publishing company), and a desk for you to work on school during your time off. There was an en-suite bathroom as well, which looked larger than the entire living room of your previous shared apartment. 

“Wow, this is–this is so amazing.” you gasp, looking over to Steve gratefully. “I wasn’t expecting anything this nice, to be honest.”

“Gotta make sure you’re comfortable so you stick around,” he says with a wink, which instantly sends your stomach into a fit of butterflies. “Go ahead and get settled in, I’m gonna go check on Amelia and the food.”

Before you could thank him, Steve was through the door and back in the nearby kitchen. You could tell why he needed your help, his mind worked at a thousand miles a minute, like he always had something that he needed to be doing.

“You still sure about all this?” Eddie implores, breaking you from your thoughts.

You look over to your best friend to see a face contorted with genuine concern and hesitancy, unsure of if he should leave you here alone or if he should tote you out over his shoulder regardless of your wishes.

“I am one hundred percent sure, Eds.” you assure him with a soft smile, pulling him into a hug. 

Eddie wraps his arms around your shoulders with a sigh, finally giving up his fight on your decisions. He knew you were too stubborn to listen to him and deep down he could tell that Steve meant well, but he was just so unsure. 

“I just want you to be safe.” he says finally, resting his chin atop your head.

“And I will be,” you state confidently, pulling back to look up at him. “This place might be, like, one of the safest places to live in the city. And besides, anywhere is safer than where I was.”

“You mean on my couch?” Eddie says, feigning an insulted look as he speaks. He knew you were talking about living with Luke, but he also knew you didn’t want to talk about him. 

“I appreciate everything you do for me, Eds, but your couch is the second to last place I would like to sleep tonight.” you say with a teasing smile, watching as he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Alright, alright, but don’t come crying to me when sexy Mr. CEO Harrington turns out to be crazy like I said,” he replies, and you shoot him a glare. “What? There’s gotta be something wrong with him, he’s too hot and too perfect on paper to be normal.”

“I think you gotta stop obsessing over my ‘hot’ boss before you get me fired before my first day has even started,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder after using air quotes when saying hot – you didn’t think Steve was hot at all, right?

“Okay, fine I’ll stop tormenting you.” he chuckles, “as long as you promise not to fall in love with him or some shit like that.” 

You immediately laugh out loud at the thought, shaking your head immediately. “That’s not gonna happen, Eds. He’s my employer and I’m only here to take care of his daughter. Besides, I’ll probably barely see him since he’ll be working all the time.” 

Eddie gives you an incredulous look before pulling you in for another quick hug.

“Please, just call me if there’s anything you need and I can be here to get you, okay?” he says and you nod. 

The two of you walk out of the bedroom shortly after, saying your goodbyes at the door with one last hug (that Eddie almost doesn’t let go in) before you make your way to the kitchen, where you know Steve is. 

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is just as nice as the rest of the penthouse that you’ve seen, but is currently in a bit of a state of disarray. Steve is standing next to the stove, and he’s serving what looks to be a pasta dish onto plates on the counter. Amelia is sitting at the long, dark dining table on the other side of the room. She’s zeroed in on two dolls in front of her, mumbling a conversation between the two of them to herself. 

“Food’s done, sweetheart.” Steve called out to his daughter, grabbing a pink plate from the pile, presumably for her. “Why don’t you put your dolls up on the counter while we eat so they don’t get dirty, okay?”

The little girl nods, grabbing her things from the table to put them up, clearly excited for the dinner her dad had prepared, “want butter on my bread, please Daddy.” she requests, a smile on her face when she spots the pink plate atop the counter.

“I’ll get you some once I sit down, love.” he replies, smoothing down his daughter’s hair when she comes to stand next to him.

There was something so sweet and so domestic about the situation unfolding in front of you, a father and daughter busy in their own little worlds, but not too busy to share a kind interaction. 

“Just in time, I was just gonna come see if you guys were hungry.” Steve says, peering over his shoulder to meet your eyes when you take another step into the room. 

“Oh, sure!” you reply, “it’s just me though. I’m sorry to disappoint, but Eddie left just a second ago.”

Steve laughs in response, shaking his head at your words. He quickly serves up some penne alla vodka, extending the plate and some silverware to you once he does. You follow him to the table as he carries his and Amelia’s plates, setting one in front of his excited daughter, who almost immediately digs in. 

“Well, I’m sad your boyfriend couldn’t stay for dinner, but it was very kind of him to help you move over on such short notice and be so understanding of the situation.” Steve says once you both settle at the table. 

You had just taken your first bite of food when Steve started to speak, and the suggestion of Eddie being your boyfriend nearly makes you choke on the pasta. A small laugh escapes your lips as you play off your near-death experience with a cough, shaking your head at the thought. 

“Are you alright?” Steve questions, setting his own fork down as he watches you carefully, making sure you’re not actually choking. 

“Yes! S–sorry, I’m fine!” you stammer quickly, shaking your head, “I just–Sorry, I thought that was funny. Eddie isn’t my boyfriend.” you reply with a nervous smile. 

“Oh?” Steve retorts, raising an eyebrow at you.

“He’s just my best friend, I–I was actually sleeping on him and his boyfriend’s couch for a few days so he just wanted to make sure where I was going to be living was safer than that.” you say, cheeks flushing red at the admission of couch surfing less than 24 hours prior to ending up in this penthouse, of all places. 

“Sleeping on his couch?” he implores, “I thought you said you lived in a small studio in Yorkville?”

“I did, with my ex. That is where I was but we–well, we had a nasty breakup a few weeks back so that’s how I ended up on Eddie’s couch. It all happened so fast that I keep forgetting I don’t live there anymore –” you blurt out, stopping yourself when you realize how much you’re sharing with this man you barely know. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you all this, you’re my boss for God’s sake, I am so sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, no, no, you’re fine!” he replies quickly, shooting you a reassuring smile. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

You give him a small, sad smile in return, choosing to focus your gaze on the food in front of you so you don’t embarrass yourself any more than you already have. 

“I know it probably doesn’t mean a lot coming from me since I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure that you didn’t deserve to be the one left on your best friend’s couch without a place to live.” Steve was rambling now, “and I’m sorry for assuming that Eddie was your boyfriend, I just didn’t think it was possible for someone like you to be single.”

There was an awkward beat of silence after Steve finished his nervous ramble, leaving you with a million thoughts that you couldn’t process in the moment, all being ones that made your stomach flutter. You didn’t really have time to process any of it though, as your thoughts were interrupted by Amelia tugging on her dad’s sleeve.

“Where my butter bread?” she questions, giving her dad a very stern look, clearly impatient from not getting her bread with the meal. 

Steve opens his mouth to retort, but you’re up from the table and grabbing the plate with baguette slices and a pad of butter Steve had forgotten on the counter next to the pot of pasta. You give the little girl a smile, swiping some butter on one of the slices before reaching across the table to hand it to her. She grabs the bread and hastily takes a large bite, giggling to herself in satisfaction. 

“What do you say?” Steve says to her, giving her a knowing look.

“Tank you,” she says to you, mouth full of bread as she grins over at you. 

The once awkward moment quickly resolved after Amelia’s interruption, and dinner went by smoothly after that. You discussed what you would need to do to help Amelia throughout the day and night, and what days Steve would be around to help out. He let you know that you wouldn’t have to cook dinner, as he insisted on sitting down with her almost every evening for the meal and making it on his own. After dinner, you insisted on helping Steve clean up, but he insisted against it, that he would finish up. Instead, you opted to get Amelia ready for bed, getting her showered and cleaned up before reading her one of the dozens of children’s books that she had littered around her bedroom. 

It was around 9 by the time you finished getting her to bed, leaving her room with the bedroom door cracked slightly. Both her and Steve’s bedrooms were upstairs, along with Steve’s office that he used to work from home on occasion. You passed the office, noticing a small light flooding from the doorway as you did. Before you could walk down the stairs, you heard a voice from inside the office call for you. 

Steve was sitting in the dimly lit room, at the large oak desk that sat in the middle of the room. He looked up from his computer when you came in, there was a tired look on his face that changed when he locked eyes with you. Thin rimmed glasses sat on his face that you hadn’t seen before, and he was freshly showered, his hair still drying and the collar of his gray t-shirt was slightly damp. He looked exhausted, but still managed to look extremely attractive and that made you want to crawl into his lap and – no, stop it. Your mind was wandering, it had been too long of a day already. 

“She went down okay?” he questioned, breaking you from your trance. 

“Yeah, she was fine. She made me read Goodnight Moon twice before she fell asleep, she said I read it wrong the first time around.” you say with a laugh. 

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles in reply, shaking his head. There’s a beat of contemplative silence, then Steve looks back up at you, “also, before you head to bed. I just wanted to apologize for earlier, I–I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking too many questions or anything, I’m sorry if I did.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re fine. I’ve been asked worse things, don’t worry about it.” you say with an assuring smile, earning one back from him in return that makes your heart skip a beat. “Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve says goodnight in reply and you turn on your heels to walk back downstairs. Exhaustion hits you all at once when you make it to the bedroom that you now call your own, throwing yourself onto the bed with a sigh. 

It’s in that moment that you’re thankful for changing and getting ready for the night before you made your way up to put Amelia to bed, because now you can just cuddle into your new bed with no worries. Well, that is until your mind starts to wander.

All day you had brushed off the thoughts you’d had about Steve, the remarks Eddie had made about Steve, and the remarks Steve had made to you at dinner about being surprised that you were single. There was no reason for you to be overthinking it all, you told yourself. There was no reason for your stomach to flutter at the thought of Steve, your new employer, winking at you jokingly. There was no reason for your mind to wander when you saw him with wet hair and glasses, but you couldn’t help yourself.

What did it all mean? You shouldn’t even be thinking about anyone right now, you just went through a disgusting breakup with an even more disgusting man, you should be thinking about nobody but yourself.

You weren’t sure what any of it meant, and were truthfully terrified to find the real answer.

But that was for another time, as sleep overtook you not long after you set an alarm, mind still running as you drifted into slumber.

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[fairlyabookie]

Morning Bliss

Author's note: domestic time hehe

Content warning: real wholesome.

Rays of sunshine tinge a marble surface with splashes of pale oranges, yellows, and whites. Birdsong cheerily rings out for the start of a new day, notes flitting about in a harmonious choir. Accompanying such harmony was a sharp hiss of oil cooking. 

Strips of bacon curl under the combination of relentless heat and oil, its aroma perfuming the air with mouth-watering goodness. Golden yellows crescent a canvas of black, frothing and bubbling in a bath of oil. Delight graces your lips as you watch this development, a fulfilling breakfast, a highlight of the day. With a spoon, you fluff out the eggs vigorously, prompting clouds of yellow in its wake. 

“Good morning, sweetie pie.” 

A strong arm on your waist startles you out of your stupor. You fathom the telltale scent of masculinity - dewy grass and evergreen. 

“Good morning, Vargas.” 

You greet back, peering over your shoulder to see a brilliant smile by his lips. Morning light casts something akin to a halo on his semblance, his features nearly godlike in golden radiance. His usually slicked-back chocolate locks fray in a disheveled mess, a deadly contrast from his usual appearance. He leans close, placing a warm spell by your forehead. 

“Is my beloved cooking breakfast?” 

His voice raspy from fatigue, Vargas places his head on your shoulder, your heart already melting from the display of affection. 

“Of course, Vargas. Now, do me a favor and don’t startle me like that, okay?” 

A smirk dances on his handsome features. 

“Hmph, I was just testing if you were paying attention to your surroundings.” 

You flick at a wide forehead. 

“I was keeping an eye on the eggs so they don’t burn, thank you very much.” 

A pout makes way to the man’s features, a picture you definitely don’t want students to see on a school day. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.

“Beloved, you’re breaking my heart.” 

“Now, now, Vargas, I’d love to entertain you for a moment, but breakfast is ready.” 

You take an empty plate and let down a cascade of eggs and bacon onto the plate, oil dripping onto the plate in droplets. 

Knowing that flirting was a losing battle with you, Vargas manages a sigh before placing another kiss on your cheek. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” 

He lets go of your waist, warmth leaving your being quickly, like a blanket taken from a child. You merely respond by a pointed look as you prepare another helping for yourself. 

“Enjoy, darling.” 

A teasing tone leaves your lips as you playfully tickle his Adam’s apple as if he were a little kitten in need of comfort. He pouts once more, a comical expression starkly contrasting the Herculean physique and grandeur of a coach known for his Spartan ways,

[clatoera]

Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 8: You Knew What You Wanted, and Boy You Got Her

Heeey besties sorry for yet another middle of the night fic drop. We are back and better than ever with some Clato content. This one and the next two are just all about them so! Live laugh clato era!. The next one..is in fact the one you have all been waiting for and I think this one gives the hint as to what that will be. Fun fact about this chapter, is this is the chapter i've been scheming for over a year. It is the reason I made the twins identical. All for this chapter to happen.

Masterpost

AO3

Title from Taylor Swift So High School, because this is like..referencing the uh..we'll just say readiness of her LOL. IDK it'll make sense when you read it.

As always let me tag my beloved @kentwells and @bodyelectric77 who literally listen to me do nothing but talk about this fic. I love u thank you for sticking around.

The first thing Clove does, every time she comes home, is kicks her shoes off without untying them. In the back of her mind she can hear her grandmother, telling her that's how she ruined them, by stepping on the feel with the opposite toe and yanking her foot out by the ankle. Later, she can hear Enobaria telling her at least she’s efficient and in all areas of her life she’s a quick girl. Now, she’s twenty three and even still, it is just so much simpler to slip her foot out of her shoes than take the time to untie them.

 She can always buy more. 

It’s one of the many things that, after the war that upended her life, has become part of new routine. It should shock noone that the kids who were raised in the strictest, highest level of training academy of District Two, grew into adults who craved some sort of order. Ones who especially craved it once every other aspect of the world around them changed. 

It was so simple, really. Clove goes on her little– little, being anywhere from four to twenty miles depending on how much her body could take– run. She comes home. She enters through the back door into the kitchen, because if she came in the front and Enobaria was home Cashmere would catch her on her way and talk to her for fifteen minutes. She took off her shoes, left then right, losing about an inch of height once the running shoes were off her feet. She takes approximately five steps to the island in the center of her kitchen, where she would take off her jacket if it were a cool day. On summer days like today, she pulls the elastic out of her hair and lets it tumble past her shoulders and to the middle of her back where it covers the exposed skin between the elastic bands of her workout clothes. Because it is the beginning of September and summer is threatening to close in on them anyday, she sometimes treats herself to the last of whatever seasonal fruit she has on hand. 

Today, though, she bypasses the snack as she glances at the clock above the stove. Six thirty. Something about the time brings her pause, as she cocks her head and strums her nails along the marble countertop. Six thirty. Early September. She just has this sense that she’s missing something. Were they supposed to be somewhere today?  

“Babe?” Clove calls out, distracted as she counts out something on her fingers. No. That wasn’t today. Nope, not that either. Nope, the trip to Four is next weekend. Enough seconds pass with no response that Cato either did not hear her or is not home, and at least if it’s the latter she can assume he remembered whatever she didn’t. She tries again, “Cato? Babe, are you home?” 

As she calls out she makes her way from the kitchen over towards her living room, still perplexed by whatever it is she apparently forgot to write down. She’s missing something. “Cato, I think we’re supposed to be doing something?” She tries again, but as she rounds the corner she is aggressively reminded of what she was supposed to be doing today. 

“Oh look, there’s your Aunt Clovey.” 

Clove stops short in the doorway, taken back by Cato standing not too far from the center of the room holding not one but two little blonde babies in either arm. Six months old, almost, and yet compared to the size of him they may as well have been six weeks. 

 God he’s fucking huge.

Focus, Clove, Focus.

Clove pauses, leaning her head on the doorframe for just the slightest of a second before she crosses the couple of steps to stand directly in front of Cato and the girls, who even still are all significantly above her eye level. “Cato..” Clove starts, an artificially sweet tone filling her voice as she reaches up to grab the hand of one of the twins, not entirely sure which is which yet. “Where did these babies come from?”

“Uh, Glimmer? I mean technically I guess they came from Marvel first but–” Cato shrugs, in doing so making both of the twins giggle as they’re lightly bounced in his arms. 

Early September. Six thirty. Three months after her wedding anniversary which is..Glimmer’s. 

“No shit, I know they came from Glimmer, Cato. I mean where is their dear mother?” Clove rolls her eyes at him, but holds her hands out to the baby he holds on his left, allowing her to lean her upper body into her hands and transfer into Clove’s awaiting arms. 

“She just left, literally minutes before you got home, you probably would have run into her if you came in the front.” Cato explains, though he doesn’t even spare a look in Clove’s direction. Instead he directs all of his words in the direction of the little blonde he still holds, gasping desperately for the baby’s attention. His efforts are rewarded as the baby reaches her little hand up to his face, grasping her little fingers at any part of his face she can find a grip in.

“I can’t believe she actually left them. I don’t think she can even sleep without holding them. I thought they’d be eighteen before she could step away.” Clove mumbles, running her own spare hand through the soft baby curls of whichever girl she holds. “Which one is this?”

“Oh, she didn’t want to leave them. She looked like she was going to cry so I just shut the door on her. I told her she needed to go have dinner or mediocre sex or something.” Cato waves off, peeling the baby’s hand off of his face before he flips her around to face Clove. In the same motion he settles her on his shoulders, little baby hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair in the meantime. He’s been built for a lifetime of discomfort, and so the grasp of a six month old was absolutely nothing on him. The silly smile does in fact start to fall from his face at Clove’s follow up question, and he narrows his eyes at the baby absolutely pulling at Clove’s free flowing hair. “You know, I didn’t get a chance to ask. She was grabbing their hands and I could see the tears and I just pushed her out.”

Clove raises a disbelieving eyebrow, taking the minute to narrow her eyes at her husband. “...you didn’t think to clarify which of the identical twins was which?”

“Well I would have, but I thought she was going to change her mind so. No. How about we’ll call this one Glimmer Two,” Cato holds up the baby’s arm and makes her wave at Clove, which earns an excited little babble in Clove’s direction. “And yours can be Glimmer Three.”

“She’s going to actually kill us if we mix them up. What happens when we switch them and then Stella spends her entire life thinking she’s her sister” Clove teases, but glances down at her own assigned baby who is fascinated by shoving fistfulls of dark hair into her mouth. 

“Stella?” She tries, looking between the two for a reaction. Both are too fascinated with the adult who holds them to notice, so she tries the alternative. “...Aurelia?” Again, neither grace her with any sort of attention or acknowledgement, and Clove huffs in impatience. “Now I know they know their damn names.”

“Yeah, and the superior twin likes me better, but they seem pretty unimpressed right now. Do you think there's a secret third?” Cato questions, trying to turn his head to glance up at his designated twin resting around his neck. “Are you Glimmer Two or Glimmer Four?”

“...I’m color coding them.” Clove determines, glancing around the room for the bag full of outfit changes Glimmer brings everywhere she goes. “Glimmer Two is in Pink, i’m putting this one in purple or something. Also you know if Glimmer hears you call one the superior twin she’s going to lose it.”

“Oh we all know you like Stella better, Clove.” Cato flips his baby back around, quite literally, and she lands in his arms with a squeal of delight. A smug smirk finds his face as he glances Clove over from her head to her toes. “I just like to bet on the littlest ones, you would know about that. Sometimes the runt can surprise you.”

“I don’t like Stella better, Stella just likes me better. Aurelia likes you, anyway.” Clove waves off, holding back her eye roll as she gently unravels the baby’s hand from her hair. She offers him a coy smirk, looking him up and down.  “Maybe I just take pity on the big ones. Especially the big dumb boys.” 

“She’s just saying that, she’s obsessed with me, kid.” He directs towards the baby (who, for what it’s worth is in fact Aurelia), managing to drape the entirety of her little body over the length of his forearm. “It can’t be that bad, they can’t be gone long anyway. I give ‘em two hours max.”

“Lucky for us they actually need their mother so they don’t starve, she’ll come back soon.” Clove assures herself more than anyone else. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the girls, quite the opposite actually. She’d even go as far as to say she adores them, but only to certain people who asked. Still, it wasn’t like she had any experience with being alone and responsible for entirely dependent human beings. Unless, of course, you count preteen Cato. At that thought she glanced around, her attention honing in on the haphazard collections of knives and other weapons around the general vicinity. “...watch her. I need a minute.”

Clove slides Stella down to the floor, and once she is sitting independently on the carpet, Clove goes to step away and collect the literal weapons out of their grasp. Almost instantly a high pitched whining comes from the baby, who immediately has her hands up in the air towards Clove, baby hands clenching into clingy little grasps for attention. Clove pauses, turning in place when she feels the little hands grabbing at her sock. “Seriously?”

The whining intensifies, turning desperate and higher in pitch as Clove glances down at the baby by her leg. She notices the pouty lower lip and almost immediately freezes. “No, no no no, no crying. Please. No crying.” Clove’s eyes immediately flit up to Cato, who’s still standing by her with the smuggest grin on his face. “A little help would be nice, Cato.”

“Fuck it, Clove. They can’t move anyway.” Cato points out, nodding his head towards the whining baby at her feet. “She’s probably literally never been put down in her life, just hold her.”

Clove audibly sighs, and exchanges the handful of metal for a handful of baby. It’s like she’s hit the metaphorical off switch, and the baby immediately stops her threat of tears. Stella settles right against Clove’s hip , laying her head down on her shoulder with not a threat of shedding a single tear. “Is this a joke? Are we going to have to hold them all night?”

“That has to be Stella. She liiikes you.” Cato decides, before he decides to kick back onto the couch with the twin he has deemed Aurelia. “Don’t act like the world’s ending, there’s worst things to be doing than holding cute babies, Clove.”

“They are cute.” Clove muses, resting her cheek on top of the little blonde head on her shoulder. “It’s fucking weird, they really do look just like Glimmer. It’s weird to be holding little versions of Glimmer.” 

“They’re just lucky they don’t look like Marvel.” Without much warning Cato reaches out and grabs Clove by the band of her sports bra, jerking her back towards the couch. As soon as her knees hit the edge he pulls her down and to his side, looping his free arm around her waist. 

It’s instinctive, the way she pulls her feet up and tucks them over his knee, angling her body towards him like the second nature that it is. “Isn’t it like..a weird thing to you? That our friends made these. Like..literally made them. Glimmer grew these hands.” She holds up Stella’s hand for emphasis, before it once again embeds in the lengths of her hair. 

“I feel like they should probably thank us for existing, I mean it was our wedding. It’s not typical that you need to ask your friends to watch your six month olds on your first anniversary.” Cato teases, before he pinches at Clove’s exposed skin. 

“Glimmer doesn’t appreciate the reminder of her shotgun wedding, you know that.” Clove flinches out of his grasp, letting out a yelp that startles one of the twins out of whatever little trance they seemed to be in. “She’s a good mom though. They’re lucky girls, to have ended up with her. I think she was born to be a mother.”

She misses the way Cato seems to be staring at her with something on his mind, as she has to once again pry her hair out of the death grip of a child. This time she has to also pull her strands of hair from Stella’s fist and mouth, only barely containing her disgust at moisture in her hair. “Do you think they’re hungry?”

“Huh?” He is only half paying attention, pulled from a daydream or something as Clove brings him back to their current reality. “What did you say?” “I said do you think they’re hungry, space cadet.” Clove teases, pushing herself back off of him so she could settle the baby in her lap. “She’s trying to eat my hair.”

“..can we even feed them anything in this house? Can babies…eat? I’m sure their parents fed them, Clove. Do they even have teeth?”

“Oh they have teeth, haven’t you heard Glimmer complain about it? Besides, babe, we go to their house three days a week so I can fill their fridge with baby and Marvel safe snacks. We’ve been doing it for two months.” She points out, before she’s off the couch and heading back towards the kitchen with one of the twins still tightly situated on her hip. 

Cato wastes no time following behind, albeit a little annoyed to be off the couch already after he had just started to get comfortable with her. “Are they even hungry?”

“I don’t know Cato, I just know I feel this urge to feed them, okay? Like it’s my job.” Clove waves off, flittering over to her usual side of the kitchen as Cato settles in across the island.

“Hmm..is it you who likes strawberries or are you the kiwi baby?” Clove asks the baby in her left arm, grabbing a handful of both out of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. 

“I don’t think she’ll answer you.” Cato teases, sitting his twin on the island and holding her up against his chest. “I actually don’t know when babies talk.”

“I”m surprised these ones don’t already, considering their dad never shuts up.” She comments, holding her left hand firmly down on her twin’s arms and hands, so she cannot lunge for the knife in her right hand. “They like..babble at each other though. They’re probably telling each other we’re incompetent.” As if it’s nothing, Clove easily uses the knife to start cutting perfect heart shaped slices out of a strawberry with only one hand, the other still holding Stella (she thinks) back. She lets go of her hand to give her a single sliced heart, and immediately has to grab at her little baby hand once again. “No, baby, please don’t maim yourself. You have parents who could actually try to kill me.” She tilts her head when Stella crinkles her little nose, looking at Clove in confusion before resuming her babbling at her. “...are you the kiwi baby then?” 

She slides Cato the plate of strawberries for the other baby, before she resumes her one handed slicing and shaping. “How about we do Kiwi stars, since we have strawberry hearts?” Clove asks the babies, who simply continue their normal baby babbles at her and each other. 

She’s distracted by her knife work, handing pieces of fruit back and forth to both of the twins, each time emphasizing the fruit and the shape before she’d hand them a new slice. She feels the sticky kiwi covered hand on her collarbone and lets out an audible groan, “That's not very nice, baby blondie.” 

Clove glances up to see if Aurelia (maybe) is also covering Cato in the sugary handprints, and is instead met with Cato just staring at her with an adoring depth to his blue eyes. There's half a smile on his face, and he just looks lovestruck. Clove narrows her eyes back at him, shaking her head just a little. “What are you looking at?”

“Just you.” Cato muses, not even phased when a sticky piece of strawberry is shoved towards his mouth as he ducks out of the way. “I’m thinking, that's all. You just look really really good right now. With her.”

Clove hesitates, watching as Aurelia succeeds in shoving a now mushed strawberry into his unsuspecting mouth. Clove truly cannot help but laugh, nose scrunching up as she does so, and it must be infectious as little miss Stella laughs at Clove laughing at Cato.  

He clearly decides not to push his luck with whatever he’s thinking about (and Clove, for what it’s worth can connect the dots). “Can you make some big people food, too? I don’t think I can survive on star shaped strawberries.”

“Um Educate yourself, Cato, the strawberries are hearts and the kiwis are the stars.”

“My mistake, how about some triangle shaped steak?”

Clove does make the two of them adult dinner, too. Albeit it all ends up cut into finger foods, consisting of half moon shaped sweet potato slices, perfectly square carrot chips, and yes, even triangular shaped overcooked (“Intentionally Overcooked, you can’t give a baby rare steak, Cato”) slices of steak.

Later, Clove pawns both twins off on Cato so she can rinse the traces of smushed sweet potato and carrot, along with the sweat from her much earlier run, out of her hair and off of her skin. She wins the race to the shower with the simple reminder that she fed them so she gets to have ten minutes to wash handprints off of her skin. 

She comes back downstairs more than just ten minutes later, an oversized shirt she borrowed from Cato serving as a dress, wet hair wrapped in a towel atop her head and safely out of the grip of curious little babies. She’s halfway back down the staircase, when she is brought to a stop by the sound of Cato and his one sided conversation.

No, not one sided, but met with avid, nonsensical baby babbles in response. 

“See, you roll the ball and it comes back and you have to get it when it comes back, you have to catch it Glimmer Two..Three..Two…Whichever Mini Glimmer.” 

Clove peaks her head around the corner, to see Cato sitting  less than the length of his legs away from the wall, the twins situated side by side in front of him. He’s rolling a weighted ball into the wall, letting it slowly return and land at the feet of either twin. Once the ball hits one of their feet they squeal in delight, before they both turn back to look at him sets of wide green eyes waiting for him to push it back.

“You can use your legs! Come on, kick it.” Cato tries again, this time grabbing one of their little feet and nudging at the ball, earning delighted giggles from both of them. 

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Clove interrupts, breaking into a bemused smile as she settles down on the floor beside them. Almost instantly his hand comes up to rest on her knee, squeezing gently before he nudges the ball away. 

“This? I used to do this when Cora was little. I didn’t know how to play with her.” He explains, using his other hand to send the ball rolling back towards the baseboard again. “I still don’t know how, apparently.”

“They clearly love it.” She assures him, raising her eyebrows into a playful smile as the girls both lock in their gaze on her instead of the ball. One reaches little grabby hands towards her again, and she offers the baby her finger to hold to tie her over with Cato for just a little bit longer. “You’re good with them. Like…really really really good. You should probably do it more often.”

“I don’t think they’re going to be very athletic, which is kind of shocking considering who they came from..” Cato muses, nodding towards the baby that is so enamored with Clove. “I think they like you, Clovey.”

“They’re six months old, give them time to grow some coordination.” Her smile softens as she leans in and scoops up whoever it is, letting the baby snuggle directly into her arms. “Baby, which one of them is this?”

“I have to be honest Clove, I have no fucking idea.” 

“Glimmer will be back for them soon, anyway.” Clove shrugs, taking the opportunity to lay her head on Cato’s shoulder, stifling her own yawn as she watches one of the twins do the same. “This is weirdly exhausting. Not in a bad way. Just..I’m really fucking tired.”

“It’s probably easier if there's only one.” Cato shrugs, gently pushing the ball out of reach and settling the remaining twin in his own arm. “You’re right though. I don’t know how Glimmer is literally always bouncing off of a wall with them.”

“It’s ‘cause they’re all she’s ever wanted.” Clove slurs, stifling another yawn into his shoulder, leaving her forehead pressed into him for just a minute. “It’s like she’s living a dream.”

“I mean…I get it.” He admits, keeping his eyes focused on the baby who was rubbing adamantly at her little tired eyes. 

“Yeah?” Clove mumbles in response, resting more and more of her weight against Cato’s arm. 

“Yeah.” He reiterates, subconsciously moving his right arm containing the baby, lulling her closer to the sleep she clearly craved. “I think we should talk about-”

Before he can finish his sentence, he feels the bulk of weight sink into his left arm. He glances over to Clove, who has fully slipped to sleep against him, as has the baby who clings to her neck. 

“I guess we’ll talk about it later, huh Kiddo?” He whispers to the baby he holds, who is quickly falling asleep herself. Cato surveys between the three of them, and the tired smile he wears falls when he realizes he has more sleeping girls on his hands than he has arms.

It’s..God only knows..how long later when Clove is startled awake by a hand on her shoulder shaking her gently. “Clove..Clove, we’re back.” 

She’s jolted awake, really, disoriented and confused. Somehow (Cato) she ended up in the recliner, covered in a thick furry blanket with the baby sprawled out on top of her. Her hand almost instinctively comes to the baby’s head as she’s startled awake, just naturally trying to keep her calm and sleeping in her arms. “Huh, what, what time is it?”

“It’s nine thirty one.” Comes an amused, whispering tone from her left, where Marvel’s hand still rests on her shoulder from where he just shook her awake. “The lights were all off, we knew you had to be asleep. How were they?”

“Fuck, I thought it had to be like three in the morning, what do you mean it’s only nine thirty?” Cato mumbles from across the room, where he’s fully sprawled out on the couch with the other twin asleep on top of his chest. 

“We told you we’d only be a few hours..” Glimmer chimes in, the noise of sequins rustling against each other mixed with heels on hardwood announcing her entrance. “Where are my girls, I miss them!”

“Can you whisper, we just got to sleep.” Clove whines, forcing her eyes open as she feels the baby she holds beginning to move and wake at the sound of her parents. She peaks an eye open up at Marvel where he stands over her and can’t help but smirk at the ruffled hair and pink lipstick at the collar of his shirt and dipping underneath. “Looks like you had a good night.”

“Good for you, we didn’t watch them for nothing then. I’m proud of you, Marvel.” Cato mocks, though he doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to make fun of them. 

Glimmer’s eye roll may as well have been audible, as she is heard tossing her shoes to the side with an audible thunk as they hit the wall. “You two are the actual worst, now give me Stella. I need her first. We’re just staying here, by the way, it’s too late to take them on the train.”

“It’s nine fucking thirty? Too late, what happened to nights starting at nine thirty” Cato questions, finally forcing himself to a half sitting position so he can fully (playfully) berate their friends. 

“It’s fine, you can stay, that's..fine. Whatever.” Clove half heartedly waves a hand off in defeat. “Stella? Do you have a favorite? Is that why you need her first?”

“Don’t be silly, Clove. It’s the schedule. I feed Stella while Marvel gives Aurelia her little bath and gets her ready for bed, and then we switch before they go to sleep. It’s a little routine.” Glimmer explains, kneeling beside Clove with a tired smile. “Which one do you have?”

Cato and Clove freeze, eyes flitting towards the other just momentarily. 

“Uh..yeah..I have one of them.” Clove starts, before Cato cuts her off. 

“I have no idea, they’re literally identical. You didn’t color code them, how were we supposed to know?”

Marvel’s eyebrows scrunch together in real confusion, looking between their overly-tired friends. “What do you mean, they’re not identical?”

“The fuck do you mean-”

Marvel laughs, not even bothering to stay quiet for the sake of not waking the girls. It doesn’t hurt, though, because as soon as the baby in Clove’s arms hears him she is woken from her dead sleep. She lifts her little head, whipping it as fast as she can to find the source. As soon as she sees him, despite how tired she is, the widest smile breaks out on her baby face. It’s as if Clove is a stranger as soon as the baby sees her dad, when one baby hand comes up to reach for him. 

He wastes absolutely no time taking his girl, and if the baby seemed to snuggle into Clove before, she practically melts against Marvel as soon as she is in his arms. If a baby could hold stress she would have just released all of it, snuggling her face into the fabric of his shirt. She absolutely clings to him, babbling softly until she’s effectively nestled into him. “Hi angel baby,” He whispers to her, kissing the top of her curl covered head as she clings to her dad. “Did you miss us too?”

“He’s kidding. But, also, I didn’t think I needed to color code them. Their earrings are their initials.” Glimmer teases, reaching down to just scoop the still sleeping Stella off of Cato. “Stella also likes to talk more, and Aurelia likes to bite on her hands more. I think she’s getting another tooth. Can’t wait for that.” She deadpans, instantly pulling her little blonde baby to eye level and kissing all over her face. Stella giggles, wrapping her little hands around the top of Glimmer’s. “God I missed you, sunshine.”

“I swear they liked us!” Clove defends, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I thought they did.” They had initialed earrings. Of course they did. 

“Of course they do, we’re just their parents.” Glimmer promises, before curling up at the end of the couch nearest Clove with Stella absolutely curled up against her. “They’ve never been away from us. They probably thought we were gone forever-”

“Glimmer not this again, please don’t cry-” Marvel pleads, subconsciously swaying back and forth with Aurelia in his arms. 

“I’m not crying. I’m just saying. They’ve never stayed with someone else before. Ever.”

“Not that we minded, but, wasn’t it a little freaky to leave them a District away? I thought you would have asked Cashmere, she’s right there?” Clove asks through a yawn, head resting in the palm of her hand as she rests her elbow on the armrest. “Like I said, not that we care but…”

Glimmer gives a tired smile herself, looking away from her daughter and up at Clove. She even spares a glance at Cato before letting out a little sigh. “We could have asked Cash or Gloss, sure. I dunno. They’re great. They would do everything for me. They would have said yes but…” 

“We talked about it a lot,” Marvel interjects, giving a little shrug. “We barely wanted to leave them at all.”

“We just…thought they’d be better with you two. We’ve never left them, but if something had happened to us and we never came home…we knew they’d be safe here. You’d take care of them. I dunno, it just felt right. We trust you, we felt the best leaving them with you two. You aren’t like..parents. But you could be.” 

“And Cato was going to force us out the door, we knew that too.”

“You’re welcome for that, you clearly benefited, Marvel.” Cato scoffs, but sits forward and digs his hands into his eyes to allow himself to stay awake. Not even ten and he’s fighting sleep, how the hell did he get here from the kid who won the Hunger Games?

“Oh. That's..oh.” Clove whispers, the gravity of their trust in her leaving her borderline speechless. They’ve seen what she was capable of and they still chose her, they still trusted her with the most important part of their lives. “..thank you…”

“At the end of the day, we love Cash and Enobaria but..when it comes to who’s going to do a better job at playing house with our babies..it’s an easy choice. It’s not even a question. You aren’t parents but you could be. Good ones, too.” Glimmer smiles, offering the words with genuine love for her friends. “And Clove knows how to cook, which is a plus too. Speaking of, honey, can you get me a snack?”

“Damn, you got Glimmer asking for food, good for you, you did something right today.” Cato practically jumps off the couch to grab Marvel by the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. And I’d say thank you, Glimmer, but you’re right. We’ve actually never been less than perfect at anything we’ve ever done ever in our lives. We’re kind of flawless, if you didn’t know!”

“You’re the fucking worst, man.” Marvel mumbles, but does follow Cato’s guidance into the kitchen.

“He is the worst.” Glimmer tells Clove once the boys are gone, tucking her feet up into the couch with her before she shifts Stella in her arms. “Not entirely. I meant what I said. We trust you. And you would be good at it. I know you don’t want to, and I respect that. But you’d be good at it. The girls adore you.”

“...yeah, I know.” Clove admits, curling up on her side, pulling her blanket back up over her shoulder as she turns in her chair to face Glimmer. Before she thinks too long about the fluttery feeling she has in her chest, at the compliments but also just the idea of her own little blondes, she abruptly changes the conversation. “ You’re a good mom, Glimmer. The best, really. But I gotta say,I feel like it’s not the most romantic anniversary in the world, to sleep at your friends’ house with your babies.”

“Clove. I don’t know if we ever would have gotten back together if it weren’t for the girls. We would not be even having an anniversary, let alone married, if it were not for them. They are, quite literally, to thank for that.” Glimmer brushes her perfectly manicured nails over Stella’s curls, keeping her calm and comforted in the safety of her arms. “And you know, I gotta give it to them. You think you can’t love someone any more than you do, right? Like you think you’re living a dream but, Clove, it doesn’t even come close to how much I love him when I see him with the girls. There is nothing, in the entire world, better than waking up next to him with the girls between us. Nothing. It’s quite literally a dream come true. It’s better than a dream, Clove. You think you love someone..but then you make new people to love with them and it’s just…I can’t even describe it, Clove. I can’t describe it. I can only imagine that the reason I survived all of that…nightmare...was to be able to have this life, Clove. I know, it’s not my business, but I hope you get to feel it one day.  There is nothing in the world like it. It is so so so worth all of it. They are worth it.”

Clove pauses for a few seconds that to her feels like hours. She could hesitate, she could start listing off all the reasons she absolutely should not (could not), she could list off the million and one unknowns that she and her routines could not account for. Maybe it’s her exhaustion, or maybe it’s the permanent look of Cato giving her that lovestruck look burned into her brain, but she doesn’t offer a refute. 

“I believe you,” is all she offers instead.

[unholy-screeching9]

Hi!! First, I want to say that I love your writing style. So much detail! I also LOVE your art!!! Absolutely amazing.

I have a request! I’d like to see King Dice x reader, their first meeting. Game and show, or whichever you prefer! I’m not picky! I’d love to see how the two first met and how or when they fell for each other 🥰

You have free creative liberty with this!!

Feel free to message me if you need any ideas!

Thank you so much, sweetheart! Your kindness means the world to me. A lot of time and effort is put into my work, so I'm very glad it brings you joy. So sorry for the long wait! As always, if these aren't up to your tastes, let me know. I'll revamp them for you.

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT WARNING! 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI.

💋

King Dice x Reader - "First Meeting"

King Dice x Reader - "First Meeting" (GAME)

King Dice loves to work in the casino. He has to, otherwise, his life would be absolutely miserable. His deal with the Devil really left him with no other choice.

There’s nothing more satisfying to him than watching those who are stupid enough to walk inside the building lose everything they had worked for. He relishes in the tears of the foolish. 

He also basks in the attention he gets from the ladies, the gentlemen and everyone in between. No matter who has fallen in love with Dice’s looks, the man accepts it wholeheartedly. Enjoys it, even. Multiple times, he’s found himself sitting in the head chair of the Grand Hazard table, with one person on each arm, two behind him with their hands on his shoulders, and even the occasional one sitting in his lap.

There is rarely ever a dull moment in the Devil’s casino. There’s always something to keep Dice entertained, whether it’s a tussle between the drunkards, a particularly exciting derby, or even some new drink concoctions the Tipsy Troop came up with. There’s always something.

Except… those things start to bore Dice. 

Sure, they’re enough to grab the manager’s attention, but the time span that these things keep his attention has slowly been dwindling. 

As invigorating as the job is, the routine has started to become too predictable. Get up. Go to work. Fawn over the attention. Sign soul contracts. Go home. It’s like clockwork. Every single day. 

It’s not to say that Dice is getting tired of his job. Oh, no. Not even close. The man just wishes that things could be a little more exciting sometimes. The shifts are long and tiring, it’d be nice to see at least a little change, to make the day pass by faster. 

Eventually, though, Dice gets his wish. 

The day you started showing up. 

Oh, hell, you are captivating. Your confidence as you strut through the double doors, catching every eye as you mosey your way down to the bar. The clacking of your shoes against the marble floor. The way you shoot a warning glare at anyone who tries to make a move on you. Good heavens, you’re a feisty one. 

Dice likes that. A lot. 

His legs sneakily carry him over to the edge of the bar, where he eavesdrops on your conversation with Ginette as she takes your order. 

You order a glass of the Old Fashioned, on the rocks. A strong, yet simple drink that hits all the right notes. 

What an excellent choice. Dice didn’t take you for someone who liked the liquors. He was expecting a classic red wine, or even a martini. 

How… unpredictable you are. Just what Dice needed, to bring back the spunk and glitz the casino had lost. 

You take your drink, and you brush past the manager, not even noticing him as you make your way past the slot machines. Past the derby area. It seems you have your heart set on something that requires more than just luck. 

You take your seat at the Poker table, sipping at your cocktail with the dealer casually sliding you a hand of cards. 

You’re after what skill can bring. You’re one of the intelligent ones. 

You certainly know the way right to King Dice’s heart. And now, he’s just GOTTA  have you.  

He watches you. Intently. From a distance, at first. He doesn’t want to scare you away from intimidation, but in all honesty, the looks you cast his way tell him that scaring you should be the least of his worries. 

Those looks also let him know that you know he has his eyes on you. You know you’ve fallen into his spotlight. But unlike the others, you aren’t pulled towards him like a moth to a flame. No… you have other things on your mind. 

Like the poker game in front of you. You’re so concentrated and determined; you know damn well what you’re doing. Dice can see it in your eyes, from his position at the bar. 

You’ve got a good poker face, but those beautiful eyes of yours are very telling. You think you’re about to win big. And goodness, when you glance up from your hand and cast him a suspicious look from your seat? 

He’s gotta get your name. He needs to know just who you are. To let you slip between his fingers would be the biggest mistake of his life.  

While you’re focused on your cards, Dice slowly makes his way over to your table, momentarily looking over the other players. ‘Watching for cheating,’ so to speak. Then, he steps behind you, smirking delightedly as he gets a peek at your hand. 

Looks like you’ve got yourself a straight. Not a terrible hand, but there certainly are better hands out there. But it doesn’t look like you’re making any moves for replacement cards. And, your bet seems to be rather high. 

Dice wonders if you’ve got little faith in your fellow players, or if you’ve just never played the game before. Maybe if he offers a bit of advice, he’ll be able to make you melt, just as he had with all the others who played hard to get. 

“You sure you wanna keep these cards, dear?” The die whispers sweetly, fondly. “It looks like you’ve got a rather low hand, with a high bet.” 

To Dice’s surprise, you let out a soft chuckle, leaning over and whispering right back, “thank you for your input, sir. But I’m quite alright. It seems that you may need to look into buying some glasses, though…” 

Ohhh, ouch. What a blow to Dice’s ego. He can’t believe you had the gall to speak to him in such a manner, all for trying to give you a little tip. While he’d usually go after those who speak like that, he just loves your attitude. It drives him nuts. 

He’s gotta see where this goes. What exactly drove you to refuse his advice? What kind of tricks do you have up your sleeve? 

The dealer calls for the players’ hands. You confidently set your cards down, the other players groaning softly in defeat, as the winnings are pushed towards you. Confused, Dice takes another glance at your cards, and his stomach does a somersault at the sight. 

A straight flush. All spades.

How could he have missed that?! 

Dice looks over at you, and is met with your confident eyes staring right back at him. Aw, hell, you’ve got him hooked. 

“Spades and clubs do look rather similar, don’t they?” You smirk, amusedly patting his shoulder. “I don’t blame you. It took me a little while to get used to the symbols when I first started out.” 

The manager is at a loss for words. He knows damn well the difference between a club and a spade, he’s worked these casino floors for over half his life. But how could you be so condescending, and yet… so oddly kind at the same time? And how in hell are you so good with your wit? 

He needs to introduce himself, before he loses his composure. 

“That was a very swell game indeed, my eyes must have missed the symbols… I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself yet. I’m—”

“Oh there’s no need for that, sir. I know exactly who you are.” You smile, calmly. Coolheaded. “The legendary King Dice of the Devil’s Casino. Anyone in the Isles who doesn’t know who you are would be a fool.” 

With his heart skipping several beats, the King quickly forms a smooth reply. 

“Well, since you seem to know so much about me, what about telling me about yourself? How about putting a personality to that pretty face of yours, doll?” 

You smirk, shaking your head and finishing off your liquor. Standing, you grab your winnings and hand him your empty glass, straightening up Dice’s bow tie for him. 

“Now, why would I talk about myself with a stranger, Dice? You of all people know the dangers of slipping out too much information.” 

“Aw, you’re hurting my heart, sugar. Not even your name? Something so simple?” 

“Hm… Alright, King of Hearts. The name’s (y/n). Don’t use it too much now, or you might just grow tired of me.” 

And with that, you’re gone, leaving Dice speechless, longing for more. Just how he had left so many others before. 

Good god. Now he understands what he’s put them through. It hurts. It hurts so damn good. There’s no way he could ever be tired of you, especially with a name like that. He needs to see you again. As much as possible.

He can’t wait for your return. And thankfully, he doesn’t need to wait for long. 

You come back again, the next day. And the day after that. And soon enough, you’ve become a regular, slipping into the mundane routine Dice had gotten so bored of. 

Except… you take away the normalcy. Every day you come by, the routine is just slightly different. 

Sure, you walk in, ignore the peepers, grab your usual cocktail and make your way to the poker table. One game. You win, every time. And then, you leave. It’s like clockwork. 

Except… the conversations you have with Dice. Those are slightly different. Every time. 

He tries to learn more about you. You shut him down, with a slight tease. You laugh as he fails to form a coherent reply. You leave, with Dice watching you. But every time you talk, you humor him just a little more. Driving him closer to what he wants.  

The more you come by, the more crazy he gets about you. He switches his tasks around on the schedules, making sure he is always available at the poker table and the bar. Just so he has an excuse to see more of you. To learn more about you.

Dammit, all you’ve given him is your name. That, along with the small details he’s picked up just from watching you, is not very much to work with. He needs more. 

He needs to take you out of this suffocating atmosphere. To bring you somewhere nice and quiet, where you can get to know each other outside of your casino affiliations. 

A date. He needs to take you on a date. 

He tries to be straight forward, at first. The next time you come by, during your usual conversation, he asks you to indulge in his fantasies, just for one night. 

“One date, darlin’. A night away from this casino’s chaos and craziness. Let me find out more about what makes those gears in your head turn.” 

“What a direct approach, King. But I’m sorry, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do better than that. There’s just not a reason for me to accept your offer.” 

Your voice is smooth, confident, with a hint of teasing. But there is something that Dice catches—something you had hoped he wouldn’t. Longing. 

The man is so. Damn. Close. He just needs to figure out a way to tip you over the edge.  

You take his hand, guiding it towards your empty glass so he can take it back to the bar for cleaning. 

Even with the gloves Dice is wearing, he can feel just how soft your skin is. It’s warm. Comforting. Addicting. Good gracious, you’re driving him insane. 

He watches you leave with a spring in your step, his eyes trailing down to the casino’s glossy marble flooring. After some deep thought, the man gets an idea. And for him, it’s brilliant. 

If he’s going to grab your attention for good, he needs to catch you off guard. Like a game of cat and mouse. 

You’ve always been great on your feet—you haven’t missed a step once in the time you’ve come to the casino. Dice wonders… What if you weren’t so good one night? What if something were to cause a simple slip, and who would catch you if something like that were to happen? 

Well, there’s an easy answer to each of those questions. 

When Dice orders for Wheezy and Chips to grease certain spots on the floor during cleanup, well, the two underlings know better than to question their boss. Still, it is rather peculiar how Dice only wants part of the floor to be greased. 

But there’s a method to the King’s madness. A method that only he can really understand. And you know what? That’s alright. 

The next day, before his shift, Dice sands the bottoms of his shoes. It breaks his heart a little, these shoes are expensive, but it has to be done. How is he supposed to be your knight if he slips right along with you?

To make a damn good impression, he pulls out the finest suit he has; one he saves only for special occasions. To him, this is certainly important enough. His choice of clothing, paired with the finest cologne he has is perfect for this night. Everything is in its rightful place. 

Now, all he needs is you. 

And when you arrive, it’s the most beautiful hee ever seen you. 

You’ve got such a fantastic choice in fashion, he wonders if that’s part of your line of work. The way your hair is done is just that much more striking, and that award winning smile to top it all off? 

Goodness, Dice better not mess this up. 

You immediately notice the slipperiness of the floor as you walk over to the bar, thinking nothing of it. You’ve walked in worse things before, and you haven’t tripped. Surely, you think, you can handle some tile that’s been cleaned a little extra. 

You grab your drink of choice, and carefully make your way to your favorite table, sitting in your usual spot. Your favorite dealer looks especially handsome today, you think to yourself as your eyes linger over Dice’s looming form for longer than they should. 

The man simply chuckles warmly in response, shuffling his deck with the occasional card trick thrown in before passing out the hands. 

You call, raising the open bet with that familiar confident gleam in your eye. The one that Dice had fallen in love with all those days ago. None of the other players have that confidence. 

Looks like your skill and luck take you far, yet again. 

Your royal flush steals the show, and you’ve gotta say, that’s probably your biggest win yet. You watch in satisfaction as the chips are slid towards you, finishing off your glass and setting it off to the side. 

Well, that’s the game of the night. You stand, acknowledging Dice as you trade in your heaping pile of small chips for a few large ones, for you to keep in your pocket. The man seems more assured than usual today. 

You cast him a wink before stepping away from the table, walking off with your winning chips in your pocket. Unfortunately, it seems that you’ve forgotten all about the greased floor. 

Before you know it, your foot slips from under you, and you start to fall, bracing yourself for a harsh contact with the unforgiving tile. 

That contact never comes. 

Instead, something else catches you nearly halfway. Something soft, silky, and smelling of Caron Poivre. Oh. Oh. 

That something is King Dice himself, grinning warmly down at you, his arm behind your back, and his free hand sweetly cupping your face. 

Now, it’s his turn to tease you, after all this time. It’s his turn to catch your aching heart, as you had done to him that first day you arrived. 

“Goodness, sweetheart. I know I’ve been trying to grab your attention for a while now, but I never figured I’d have to physically sweep you off your feet. Don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch after all this time, because of one measly drink…” 

For once, you’re frozen. You’ve got no retort, no comeback. Nothing to say. You just… stare. You take the time to look into his eyes, and inwardly scold yourself for avoiding them all this time. They really are a pretty sight for sore eyes. 

Those pupils of his are expanded so much you’re surprised you can still see a bit of those famous bright green irises. And they are just sparkling with want. Infatuation. 

You can’t look for long. Otherwise, you just might never be able to stop. Finally, you try to form some type of response, so he doesn’t have to stand there and hold you inches from the ground forever. 

“I… well, I just…” 

“What’s the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue?” 

Dammit, he’s gotten good at this. He looks at you so expectantly, waiting for a response, but with that strikingly handsome face? You’ve lost the words you had been trying desperately to gather up. 

He’s got you, after all this time telling yourself you wouldn’t fall for his trap. He’s got you good. 

“I… t-thank you, King…” 

He chuckles warmly, sending a few butterflies right into your stomach. 

“Don’t mention it, baby. I’d never blame you for slipping on these floors—the grease is always hard to walk over. It’s caught me a few times before, even.” 

Slowly, he helps you stand on your feet once again, and you brush yourself off, not making any move to leave. Not anymore. You’ve gotten so hooked, your caution has been thrown out the window. 

“I guess I owe you a drink, for saving my life like that.” 

Dice laughs. And fuck, it’s beautiful. It’s loud, deep, and so so powerful. It takes everything in you not to lock your lips onto his right there. Fuck. 

He’s hooked you tighter than anyone else he’s ever had. 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about all that. It’s on me, doll. But only on one condition.” 

“And what would that be, King?” 

“You let me take you out to The Ritz for dinner.”  

Damn him. Damn that no-good, rotten, sleazy casino manager, always making deals. Tempting deals that are hard to say no to. 

Aw, hell. What’s the point in life if you don’t take any risks once in a while? 

“Alright, lover boy. I’ll indulge you with that date. Now come on, an Old Fashioned seems to be calling my name over at the bar.” 

That deal turned out to be the best decision of your life. 

King Dice x Reader - "First Meeting" (SHOW)

If there’s anything a master of ceremonies like King Dice loves most, it’s attention. Power. Influence. Money. Especially money. What else is supposed to pay for his high maintenance lifestyle? The term “money doesn’t buy happiness” is utter bullshit to the star. 

And boy, does Dice get what he wants. All the time. The spoiled Devil’s lackey NEVER hears the word no. It’s really not in his vocabulary. If the King says jump, the servants say “how high, sir?” If he says bow, his fans are on their knees. Some even kneel down before he can finish the word. 

A beautiful penthouse separated from the rest of the “common folk” of Inkwell. The top show on the radio, that plays for hours, every single day the channels run. An adoring and loyal audience, who would do absolutely anything he would ask of them. 

The finest clothes money can buy. Five star meals from only the most expensive and high end restaurants. Endless jewels and other expensive trinkets to keep the showman happy. A simple card butler at every door, and several laying out his carpet. His own limo, and driver. Staff that take care of the home duties while he relaxes. 

Really, how could you get any more fulfilled than that? 

Well, King Dice could certainly tell you how.

Everything he has is fantastic, and he wouldn’t trade any of it away, sure. That’s a given. He does love his extravagant life he’s signed a contract to. However, after so many days, weeks, months, years of doing the same damn thing, over and over again, things start to get pretty old. Pretty fast. 

And sure, the parties, acting/musical gigs, and other various events of celebrities do bring about the variety to spice up the day, but even so, something is still missing. 

Of course, being the fantastic actor Dice is, he’s learned to hide his boredom when on the air, or in front of an audience in general. He’s learned to lie, very easily. Though, that may just be part of his nature. Dice has always been a good liar. 

But god, he needs some change to his luxurious yet excruciatingly boring life. Something to keep his attention.

Thankfully, his prayers start to get answered.

Dice’s audience switches up in terms of people and their seating arrangement, every night. The variety helps bring some newness to his beloved show, when things start to get a little too dry and repetitive. 

However… Recently, there’s been one person who’s started showing up to the show every night. In the same exact seat, without fail. Always the first one to arrive, and the last to leave. 

You. 

But although you are there the longest, loyally sitting in your seat with all the others, you aren’t as overly enthusiastic as the rest of his fans. 

No… it’s like you’re watching a movie by yourself. You sit, silently, with a small smile on your face. It’s oddly comforting to the star, seeing you watching him intently. Not making a damn scene, like the other folks who just can’t get enough of him. 

You’re there for the after-show, when Dice is surrounded by his overly excited fans, BEGGING him for autographs and pictures from the press. But you don’t smother him. You simply watch behind the crowd, with that damn smile on your face. 

You’re the final one there, but before he can offer an autograph or even just a chat, you’re walking off. It confuses him. You confuse him so much. 

Why on earth would you stay so long and then just leave, without saying anything? Are you shy? No, you don’t seem like the shy type. Your smile isn’t from being flustered. You smile warmly. Boldly. Like you simply stick around to watch Dice for entertainment, and nothing more. 

The man watches you leave, staying in place until you turn a corner, disappearing into the night. He stands, contemplates for a few moments, before heading inside his waiting limo, his mind still trying to wrap around you. To understand you. 

Night after night. Every single show. You’ve become part of Dice’s daily customs, except he never gets bored. In fact, the more you show up, the more interested he gets. 

The outfits you wear get prettier and prettier to him. That smile of yours starts to make him blush, right there on that stage. You start causing him to fumble a little, each time you catch his glance. Good lord, what are you doing to him?

No, there’s no question. Dice knows exactly what he’s feeling, but he’s too conflicted to admit his feelings. Dammit, he’s in love. 

He’s in love with someone he hasn’t even properly met. 

It’s unfair. It’s so unfair, how you know so much about him, and yet, he knows absolutely nothing about you. And you don’t even give him the chance to learn. You leave before he can say anything. 

After a while, Dice can’t help but follow from a distance. Nothing too crazy, he’s no creep, but he just wants to see just where you end up every evening. The route you turn on doesn’t typically lead to any residences, so you’re not going home. 

Dice discovers that you head to the nearby bar every night. The building is just a few doors down from the studio, really not a far walk at all. It’s where he finds you every night as he rides by slowly. He’s caught bits and pieces of you sitting at a stool by the counter, sipping away at whatever drink you fancy. 

That’s the one thing he’s got on you. You like having a drink after his shows. Nothing super telling, but interesting nonetheless. 

And with interest comes determination. Dice needs to find out more about you. He needs to hear your voice. Get your name. Anything. 

You’re like a parasite that Dice welcomes with open arms. You latch onto his brain, taking complete control over his thoughts. The game show host is more distracted during his performances, only showing emphasis and charisma because he knows you’re there. In fact, he’s more passionate about what he does, as long as it keeps your attention. 

Every laugh he coaxes out of you when he says something witty and funny. Every clap you give him after he finishes with his introduction and his signature exit. Every lingering stare, where you both lock eyes with each other. You’ve got beautiful eyes, shining with wonder and energy. He could get lost in them, if he didn’t have a show to run. 

All of these things drive him to do his job well. As long as he keeps you of all people happy and entertained, well, that’s now enough for him. All he needs now, is who exactly you are.

Another signing session after his show. He runs through each paper quickly, honestly just trying to get everyone out of his hair fast enough to keep you still. His eyes search for you the entire time, barely even paying attention to his audience. He doesn’t care about them. 

Just you. 

They finally start to dissipate, and Dice finally catches your eyes again. Just as you’re starting to leave. Before you can get too far, this time, a gloved hand grabs your wrist. 

“Wait-!” 

You pause, your head turning back to the host who’s staring at you with unusual kindness, it almost breaks you. Almost. 

“I… sweetheart, you’ve always been the last to leave, but you’ve never even said a word. You haven’t asked for a single autograph or photo. So tell me, why? Come now, just tell me a little about yourself.” 

The look he gives you is so entrancing, you’re so close to caving in. You can tell he’s trying so hard, you’ve seen it since the beginning. As soon as he saw you. 

But of course, you’re not stupid. King Dice is a showman at heart, and there’s nothing he loves more than his career. Some random, quiet fan wouldn’t change that at all. 

“Sorry, sir, but I know your type. It’d be dangerous to say too much, and I don’t want to take any chances.” 

You smile, taking his hand tenderly, and giving it a gentle squeeze before removing it from your wrist. 

“But I will say, you’ve got quite the gig going on here. You’ve caught my interest, that’s for sure.” 

And with that, you walk away, just as you have every night. Leaving the star to watch you disappear, wishing he had more. Leaving him with more questions than answers. Leaving him to his thoughts, which are riddled with your face. Your eyes. Your voice. 

It was the first time Dice had heard you speak, and god, the sound is heavenly to him. It’s a shame you left so soon, before he even got the chance to hear more from you. 

To the limo he walks, allowing his driver to take him home. He’s glued to the window, his eyes scanning the bar for your presence as the limo slowly makes its way through the busy streets. And there you are, in your usual seat, swirling a glass of your favorite drink. The view only lasts a few seconds, but those moments are precious. 

What he wouldn’t give to be beside you, sharing a bottle of rosé wine, lamenting to you about just how hard it is to keep up a professional appearance all the time. How he sometimes feels jealous of you, someone normal, someone who never has to pretend. 

Laughing with you. Joking around, and sharing stories from all of Dice’s career adventures. Hearing stories from you, about how you spend your time outside of coming to the show. Slowly scooting closer to one another, glasses in hand, your drinks clinging together in a toast. A toast to normalcy and good fortune. 

A toast to love. 

Hell, if you’d let him, maybe he’d even kiss you. How beautiful would that be, to taste the alcohol on your lips? To share a beloved connection with someone who seems to care about him? 

Dammit, Dice’s feelings have reached a crazy degree. He can’t deny it to himself anymore, he needs you. You’re the piece that he’s been missing in his life. Maybe, with you, he’d finally have that sense of wholeness again. 

The entire drive home, Dice thinks. Thinks of how to sweep you off your feet. How to get you to return his affection. What he can do to make his dreams come to reality. 

A solution is a lot harder than he thought it would be. For the first time in a while, Dice is stumped. 

You never leave his head, even when he falls asleep that night. You haunt his dreams. 

The routine is the same, the next time you show up to his performance. You watch him host with a warm smile on your face. He meets you out front, after the rest of his fans have been taken care of. You move to leave, and he grabs your hand yet again, striking up another conversation. 

“C’mon, doll, don’t leave me hanging like this. I don’t know how much more I can take. You know so much about me already, but what about you? Give me something to work with, here.” 

You laugh softly at his insistence, and Dice isn’t sure he’s heard a more beautiful sound in his life. You’re more intoxicating than even the strongest whiskey he stores in his mini bar.

You take his hand like you had before, but this time, your touch lingers ever so slightly. 

“I’m not sure what a brilliant showman like yourself is doing, trying to learn about someone like me. I’m really not all that special, sir.

Dice shakes his head, gently squeezing your hand, savoring the softness of your skin. The electrifying warmth you send through his hand, up his arm, right into his heart. 

“There’s gotta be more to yourself than you’re letting on, I see it in your eyes. Humor me a little, here. At least put a name to that beautiful face of yours.” 

You smile softly, turning towards him completely. Cocking your head to your side, you look at him in amused confusion, letting him continue holding your hand. 

“It seems like you’ve got your heart caught up in a tussle, King Dice. Alright, I’ll give you my name, if you can answer this for me: why me, out of all these people? You’ve got fans who would bend over backwards to make you their groom, why have your heart out for the quiet observer?” 

“I…you just interest me, is all. You’re different. Much different. You have that aura of mystery surrounding you, and I want to break it away. Now please, darling, your name?” 

You smirk at his answer, kindly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles before letting go of his hand, turning away once again. 

“You’re getting closer, sir. But you’re not quite there yet.” 

With a soft laugh, you walk away. Again. Dammit, you’re making this so difficult, the suspense is driving Dice mad. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he walks to his limo as usual, climbing inside. He stares at the hand you had held, intently, wondering just how he’s supposed to get you to crack. 

The slow approach just isn’t working. Dice needs to be bolder. He needs to catch you when you least expect it… 

He’s never accompanied you to the bar before. He’s always just watched you go, debating on whether or not he should. Well, now, he’s made up his mind. 

This has to work. 

That night was the last show of the week, giving Dice a day off in between. Normally, he finds joy in his time away from everyone else, using up his chance to have some alone time. But now? All it does is fuel his impatience. That day is the longest he’s ever had, with half of it consisting of clock-watching alone. 

Finally, Monday comes. Dice is back in business. And today, he’s going to pull off a trick that will surely catch you. It has to. The showman is on his last leg. 

His staff have never seen him practice so hard during rehearsal. Dice runs through the motions over and over again, even when he’s got the routine nailed down perfectly. 

Makeup is the same way. Applying the eyeshadow and mascara. Removing it when it appears to be too cakey. Applying again, lighter this time, with a little blush for good measure. Better, but barely noticeable. Adding another layer of the purple shadow, along with fresh pigment over his pips. 

With his makeup perfect, his performance perfectly memorized, and his suit straightened, Dice has one of the best show nights he’s had in a long time. His audience notices. His band notices. He’s sure even his boss notices, way down in hell. 

You notice. And that’s what he cares about. He sees it in your eyes. That beautiful glimmer that keeps him motivated. 

And the performance isn’t even Dice’s main trick. This is going perfectly. 

Granted, due to the fantastic night, Dice was kept back just a little longer than he’d like, greeting, signing, and smiling for photos. His cheeks are throbbing by the time he takes care of the last person. 

But this time, you wait. When you would usually be gone by this time, you decided to stay just a little longer. And Dice almost forgets his mission out of surprise. 

“You did great tonight, King.” You smile warmly, grasping his hand in yours. 

You both stand there for a little while, smiling warmly at each other, just silently enjoying the company. And then, like all the other nights, you let him go, and you leave. 

And this time, Dice is okay with that. 

Stepping into the limo, he directs his driver towards a parking spot at your favorite bar’s side door, where he won’t be noticed by the public. The last thing he wants is for the press to butt in on this moment. He needs peace for once. 

Quiet and humble, Dice walks inside the bar, immediately looking at where you usually sit. A lonely stool, in front of the bar counter. Surrounded by empty seats. Perfect. 

You swirl your glass of scotch in your hand, eyeing the drink as you contemplate to yourself. You wonder if you should let go of your danger sense, and take the risk. 

Should you give him your name the next time you see him? Should you let him show you a different side to his charismatic persona? A side that only you would ever get to see? 

“Scotch, hm? An interesting drink of choice, but I think it fits you. You’ve got the strong boldness that comes in the drink.” 

Looks like you’ve got a choice to make. 

You look over to the side, smiling fondly when you see the very same showman you had just walked away from, sitting beside you as the bartender whips up his drink. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. I never took you for someone who goes to the bar, King Dice… you seem more of the type to have the servants make your drinks.” 

The man laughs as his martini glass is slid his way, picking it up and carefully swirling its contents. You really do have such a way with words.

“Don’t be fooled, that’s usually how I take my alcohol. But the bar does offer something that I don’t have at home.” 

The man looks back up at you, slowly leaning forward, wanting to get lost in your shining eyes. 

“It gets pretty lonely without someone to share the alcohol with, doll. But here? Well…” 

You ignore the heated feeling in your cheeks, taking a drink from your whiskey, watching him closely. 

“Well what, sir?” 

“Why not try a drink in a place where there’s a little company? Some good-looking company, to boot. You seem to like it here very much—I see you sitting here with a drink in your hand every time my limo passes by the bar.”

It’s your turn to laugh now, as you take another sip of your drink. Alright, he’s got your heart’s attention and you know it. It wouldn’t take much more than a little nudge from him, and your shell would be broken. 

“I don’t know if it’s very safe for me to share a drink with a complete stranger, handsome as he may be.” 

Dice smiles, his hand reaching forward and tilting your chin upwards, like he’s trying to get a better look at you. He also gives you a chance to examine his facial features up close, and boy, he’s even better looking than your view from your seat in his audience. 

“Well then, let’s stop being strangers, shall we? I know I ask you this every night, but this is the last time I’ll try. What’s your name, gorgeous?” 

You chuckle softly to yourself, shaking your head slightly as you tip back, finishing off the last of your scotch, letting an ice cube fall into your mouth. You let it melt on your tongue slightly, swirling it around in your mouth as you contemplate your answer. He has been waiting very patiently for—! 

Every thought in your mind comes to a halt as a soft, sweet pair of lips takes over your own, an arm wrapping around your side to bring you closer. You blink in shock, eyes wide as you stare at the one responsible for the sudden gesture. 

It’s King Dice. And he’s kissing you. 

Slowly, you set down your empty glass, cautiously leaning forward, accepting the affection. You know he had been working hard to earn your love, but if you’re honest with yourself, he has already had it since the beginning. It just took him a while to unlock it. 

His tongue slides into your mouth, finding the ice cube you had been sucking on, and swiping it from you so quickly you barely even notice it’s missing by the time he pulls away. 

He smirks down at you, the ice resting against his cheek as he laughs quietly at your speechlessness. 

“Your name, doll. What is it?” 

Completely enraptured, you finally utter out the word that Dice had been dying to hear ever since your first conversation with one another. 

“(Y/n)… my name is (y/n).” 

With a victorious grin and a raise of his glass, Dice happily responds to your lovestruck mumble. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n). It seems now that we are no longer strangers.” 

He taps his fingers on the counter, and the bartender slides you a brand new drink, filled to the brim.

“So, how about that drink, then?” 

You take it slowly, raising it up so it’s just underneath your slightly sore lips. You smile once again, laughing in disbelief, feeling your heart skip a beat. 

“Whatever you say, showman.” 

And from there, it’s history.

[starrydaycare]

Hi love ur content! Can you pls do a tickle fic with pomni getting tickled by gummigoo or jax! Thank you have an amazing day! :)

Hey! Thank you, and yeah I can very much do that. Apologies if it isn't the best, though. This is my first tickle fic I've written.

Lee!Pomni and Ler!Jax, Thoughts upon Thoughts and a certain Purple Rabbit. 1,306 words. Despite this being a non-agere post, this is still an sfw account. DNI if not child safe!.

Pomni sighed, a mixture of exasperation, hopelessness and sadness going through her at the moment. Five days ago, she had been living her life in the real world, doing this and that, having fun with her friends and family. Five days ago, at around 7:50AM, she found herself in a strange circus. Five days ago she was told that she was unable to leave ever again; that she was trapped here... 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. Now, of course she wasn’t going to just accept this! There had to be a way for her to leave! There just had to be! ... At least, that’s what she told herself.

It’s almost been a full week since she entered the digital circus, and despite her attempts to find a way out, she remained there, surrounded by new people who had been trapped there for far, far longer than she had. They were... Okay. Yeah, they were fine. Ragatha was nice enough, she still felt bad about leaving her behind at first on her first day here. But she seemed to forgive her, so Pomni figured that she should leave it in the past. Kinger was interesting, to say the least. He was definitely a character, his short-term memory messed up. But he was nice, regardless. Even if he could be a little out of it at times; he was nice to talk to.

Zooble was, well, Zooble. They were nice enough, Pomni supposed. They seemed pretty over this circus stuff, which Pomni could relate to. Gangle was kind. She seemed like a sweet girl to Pomni. Though, her emotions were usually stuck to sadness thanks to her tragedy mask, which was almost always the mask residing on her face. Jax made sure of that, always pushing her down or insulting her.

Jax. Ohhh, Jax. Jax was probably the one human in the digital circus which Pomni didn’t really want to be around. To be fair, for her first few days, Pomni didn’t really want to be around anyone, preferring to just stay in her digital room, snuggled up in her digital bed...

The other circus members had grown on Pomni, but not Jax. Jax was mean, from what Pomni could tell. He constantly messed with the people in the circus, from breaking Gangle’s comedy mask to putting centipedes in Ragatha’s room just to mess with her. Pomni couldn’t fathom 𝘸𝘩𝘺 he would do that to the only other humans trapped here. They were all in the same messed up situation, so why not make the best of it? ... She sounds hypocritical now. She’s been focused on escaping, ignoring the group. Yeah, that’s hypocritical.

But can you blame her? Most people would do the same in her shoes, she thought.

It was fine, though. Well, not really. She’s finally come to terms that she is very much not leaving this place... Goodness, how does a place like this even come to 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵? What cruel, cruel person decided “hey, yeah, a digital circus in which humans are trapped in until they lose their marbles is a funky little idea!”. She didn’t even want to think about who would think like that. She was sad enough already, feeling hopeless; defeated.

Pomni continued walking around the big circus area, alone. The others had gone on their daily adventure, made by Caine. Well, not Zooble. Zooble never went on the adventures; Pomni could see why. But Zooble was in their room at the moment, and regardless, Pomni just felt like being alone for a bit.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a voice and a poke to her side; a touch which she did 𝘯𝘰𝘵 squeal at. No siree, not her! “Hey, Newbie!” Ughh... 𝘑𝘢𝘹. 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵. Just who she wanted to see as she walked around, alone. “What is it, Jax?” she asked, exasperated. “Hey, hey! No need to be such a @#$-#!” She grimaced at the wonky censor. “Just trying to see my favorite new jester! Y’know, you seem kinda... Down-in-the-dumps-depressed lately.” He noted.

“Thanks, Jax. Didn’t know.” She replied, rolling her eyes. “𝘚𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘺, 𝘫𝘦𝘦𝘻. Chill out, would you? Getting yourself all bent-out-of shape!” He accused with a laugh, poking her side again, another squeal leaving her mouth. “Jax, stop that!” She snapped. She wanted to be 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, and she was supposed to be for at least a while longer! “Why, kid?” Ohhh, that... That Jax! “Jax! Knock it OooFFF–” The end of her sentence is high pitched, turning into another squeal as he began repeatedly poking at that spot. “JjjAHAHAHX!” She scream-laughed as his pokes turned to him spidering her sides–that’s right, sides, as in plural. Both of his hands now spidered along her sides–for reasons unknown to her. Was this another prank!? The first prank he pulled on her!? “KNOHOHOCK IHT OFFFHAHAH–!” “Hmmm... I don’t know, Pomni. You seem a lot happier now, and I’m enjoying this! Hmmm... What to do, what to do?” He pretended to think, not letting up with his relentless tickling. “JAHAX!”

“Hmm... Oh, yeah! I got a great idea, Newbie!” He teased, and despite the tickling letting up, Pomni knew better than to believe it was over. And she was right to act that way, as almost immediately his hands were skittering across the back of her neck. She squealed, throwing her head back and putting her shoulders up in an attempt to get the tickling sensations to leave. It was a failed attempt.

“Woah there, Pomni! Looking unsteady there, aren’t we? Don’t fall! Wouldn’t want an accident, now would we?” He spoke, that cheshire grin visible on his face. That look usually meant trouble, though Pomni couldn’t focus on that, too preoccupied with the fingers skittering along her neck. She brought her hands up, weakly fighting against it. Though they both knew it was half-hearted.

His hands drifted down to her exposed armpits, taking advantage of the fact that her arms were up, trying to get his hands away from her neck. His hands started their assault once more, forcing laughs and squeals out of the poor jester, who now had tears threatening to fall due to it all. As he continued to tickle her, he helped her lie down, giving him far more access (and making it to where she wouldn’t accidentally fall from the tickling). His hands spidered along her clothed ribs, side and tummy, loud laughs from the jester like music to Jax’ ears.

She wiggled and squirmed, head thrown back with tears of laughter in her eyes. “JJAHAHHAX–AAHHHHAHH!” Coherent sentences no longer formed for her, thanks to Jax’ actions. Coherent thoughts didn’t form, either. So Jax’ plan, which Pomni was unaware of, had been successful.

He finally gave her mercy as she started claiming that it was too much. His hands left her sides and he crossed his arms. For a moment Pomni just laid there, still letting out weak giggles. Her giggles stopped soon enough, and with a sigh, she wiped her tears of laughter away from her eyes.

“Feeling any better, Newbie?” Jax asked. “Hhahhhuh?” She answered, questioning. “You’ve been kinda... Down-in-the-dumps, as I said before, lately. All depressed.” He replied.

“Ohh.. Yeahhh, I–... Yeah. Um, the whole new... Trapped-in-a-digital-circus thing hasn’t been the best for me.” She admitted. “So? Are you feeling any better at all? Or do we need to go again?” Jax threatened, wiggling his fingers in the air. A giggle left Pomni, and she subconsciously squirmed a bit. “Haha, nooo... I’m good. ... Yeah, that... Did help. Q lot, actually. Why did you...?” “Well, I had to make sure the new kid didn’t abstract already.” Jax explained, a grin on his face. “Mmm... Okay. Thanks, Jax.”

“Yeah, no problem, Newbie.” He said, and as Pomni sat up, she thought to herself that maybe, just maybe, this entire circus thing wouldn’t be too bad.

[thegloweringcastle]

Good Morning, Sunshine

elucien week day 3 - sunshine 

Huge huge huge thank you to our @elucienweekofficial moderators for all their amazing work to make this a fun and safe event for everyone to celebrate our beloved couple!

This is a very very short and sweet elucien family drabble. hope you like it!  Can you tell I wrote this on four hours of sleep? I’m going to bed right after I hit post, lol. If you see any typos, no you didn’t

~~~

Fingers of sleep fought to keep Elain for a few minutes longer, wrapping around her mind and winding through her limbs; a losing battle on its part.

Morning light streamed in between the heavy curtains surrounding their room, the roof windows brightening as dawn turned to day. She reached blindly across the bed, seeking the warmth of her mate, only to find cool, rumpled sheets.

She sat up slowly, wiping at her eyes and stretching, taking a moment to absorb the quiet. It was no doubt where her mate was; she suspected he was the reason it was so unusually quiet at this particular hour.

Elain thought about going back to sleep, enjoying another hour or two of warm, easy dreams, but she knew it wouldn’t be as cozy without her family.

The sheets whispered as she slipped from bed, padding softly against the marble floors as she made her way to the room adjacent. The door was cracked, a warm glow shining from the crack. She smiled to herself, knowing almost exactly what she would find.

And sure enough, the door swung on silent hinges to reveal her mate, asleep in the cushioned rocker, their newborn daughter curled up on his bare chest.

One of the countless things Elain loved about Lucien was how he glowed, something new that began when his life truly became his own - free from spring, autumn, politics, and drama - and he had the chance to share it with her. It was a balm to her heart, a reminder that their new life wasn’t too good to be true. He was just as happy as she was, and that wasn’t about to change.

And when they welcomed their daughter into the world only months ago, Elain had been hoping that she too would glow. Now and then, she thought she caught glimpses. Instances when, from the corner of her eye, she thought the world went a bit brighter. Elain usually excused it with sleep deprivation.

But now… now there were no excuses. Now, Elain found both her daughter and her mate glowing bright as the rising sun that spilled in through the windows. It was the most beautiful thing, to watch them rest together. To have such a devoted mate and father to their child - something she never imagined she would have. Not after the cauldron. Not after those long, empty days and quiet, lonesome nights. Not after having her entire world washed away and being handed an empty slate for the second time in her suddenly immortal life.

Elain crept forward, snagging a throw blanket and debating whether or not to wake Lucien. This was the first time their daughter was glowing, this was the first time their daughter was glowing because she was asleep on her father’s chest. She didn’t want Lucien to miss it, but she also knew he needed his rest.

Just as she resolved to leave him be, tucking a blanket over his lap and along his bare arms, his eyes cracked open. A lazy, content smile spread across his face as he met Elain’s gaze.

His voice was deliciously raspy when he greeted her. “Hello, my love.”

Emotion rising high in her throat, she beamed down at her family. “Good morning, sunshine.”

[doubleddenden]

As for my review of Teal Mask, I think its fine enough, but could have used a bit more story to it and a few small towns. I feel like I tried to pad out the experience as much as I could on my own, but it was still a lot shorter than expected.

What's still unacceptable is the performance and glitchiness. Slow downs, clip ins, and other glitches are still present- some are a little worse than you'd expect. Now granted, it's not as bad as SV at launch, but it's still very, VERY noticeable when they didn't even bother to polish shadow pop ins or map clipping in actual cutscenes or important trainer battles. And this is the thing- slow downs had been fixed a little until they dropped Teal Mask, so idk what's wrong. They could have waited til October and polished it up a bit, but I guess they REALLY wanted to catch the tail end of summer. At this point, they must no longer give a damn about performance at all and just want it to be done and over with- which on a certain level I can say "mood," but on a level of someone that bought the game, I can say "hey what the fuck???" And no, boycotting wouldn't have worked- Pokemon is at the point where saying "i'm gonna boycott" actually helps their sales, so there's no point in bothering.

But still, I will point it out again, and so will others so that the next games will be polished a little better.

As for the actual content- I did enjoy what was here, but again, I feel like they could have added more.

More under the cut:

Carmine and Kieran are the main new characters you'll be focused on, and they're decently entertaining and likeable for different reasons.

Carmine is a bitch- She hates you because you're a foreigner tourist, she's vain, she's full of herself, she's cocky- and it's enjoyable actually getting to go from such a rough welcome to becoming her friend. She's a fun asshole that made me laugh more than once, and it's always fun to knock her down a few pegs. In a way she's similar to Klara, except Carmine isn't quite as much of a pushover and has valid reasons to be a bitch. But again, her growth is fun to watch- not in the sense she ever stops being a bitch, because thankfully she just stays that- No she just becomes Bitch, but Friendly, and that's fine, great even! She's snide, rude, and competent, and I like it.

Kieran, however, is a rival that does something I've wanted Game Freak to do for YEARS- but unfortunately, it's just for a small time dlc rival. Still, his growth is unique for a "friendly rival" in that he goes full reverse, and you get to watch him just actively lose his god damn marbles. It's great! :D I look forward to seeing him again one day, because his team was actually super strong.

The rest of the characters- if we can call them that- are just basically NPCs- with the exception of Briar.

Briar doesn't really do too much, but she's... suspicious. Thats about how I can describe her.

Now I'd also add Ogerpon here- I was shocked with how on the mark I was with my predictions. I won't spoil anything but I do like him a lot.

OH SHIT, I forgot Perrin, which is weird because I actually really liked her. Perrin doesn't get a whole lot of stuff, she's literally for a mission, but she is entertaining in that she finds cuteness in any Pokemon she sees. Her whole side mission is really fun too, and I think she might be hinting that she'll return in a future game? Unsure.

Oh, there's also an annoying side quest with rich people- they're annoying, but you'll want to do it for another side quest. trust me.

Story is decent enough- definitely not as in depth as the base story, but unlike IoA and CT, Teal Mask actually sets itself up properly for Indigo Disk to be a continuation of the story. The story here is pretty small though, but its interesting to see how Carmine and Kieran grow and interact with the main character. The story of Ogerpon and The Loyal Trio, while not the most eloquently written, is actually not quite as front and center as we were led to believe. Kieran's obsession with Ogerpon is actually weirdly refreshing- I can't think of a single rival that actually competed with us for the right to catch a legendary Pokemon.

That being said, again, it is short lived and not nearly enough was done to justify all the promotion. I think we could have had The Loyal Trio be alive and living in the lap of luxury and see how they're actually jerks- that would have helped cement the "alternative story" we were told, and could have padded out story by giving us missions to either rein them in or fix problems they cause. Maybe have Perrin play a slightly bigger role in helping us find Ogerpon, have Briar actually do something besides be a suspicious chaperone-

Hell, instead of the 3 nameless NPCs that come with us, more could have been done story wise by having Arven, Nemona, and Penny with us as a group trip instead of it being "a lottery." Nemona could have been a battling menace, Arven could have been looking for new ingredients, Penny could comically struggle to find good signal, etc. Or heck, make them actually characters that have smaller arcs. I guess they couldn't do that because technically you can play Teal Mask as soon as you begin the treasure hunt, and in fact you can battle Ogerpon at both level 30 or level 70, so I guess maybe they couldn't outright connect it too much to them- but I still say maybe a post SV main story bit could have been added for those three plus us, and maybe Carmine.

I think all of this is going to pick up a tad more with Indigo Disk- I just hope it's not as quick as Teal Mask was.

Now as for other things:

Music is good- I think though they swapped to some older music making style that doesn't sound as good quality wise as Paldea music. But I absolutely LOVE Carmine's theme, and the wild battle music is a cool mix of Hisui and Paldea. The legendary music is also fun, and I'll definitely go back to listen to Ogerpon's. But Carmine and Kieran's music sounds a lot like it was made with the same DS soundfont style that you'd hear in Bede's theme or something. Crystal Pool, though, is hauntingly pretty and reminiscent of Area Zero.

Graphics have a more saturated color and are improved in some areas- but other than a few locations, there's just not really a lot to look at. Crystal Pool, however, is a really pretty place, and there's some very strangely unique cave areas that look like you're supposed to DO something in there, but nothing came of it. There's certain areas where textures look great, certain where they look bad. Actually, I find that I have similar issues as I did with Legends Arceus, where the textures and graphics just don't load until you're right in front of them, and you can visibly see the bubble range when grass, trees, and mountains just suddenly appear or gain texture. Hell, flowers just spawn less than 2 feet from you. Again, shadows and textures clip and glitch sometimes too- even in talking scenes, and that just isn't acceptable. Overall, texture work feels like they stretched out certain outdoor textures to make them look gross and pixelated or really realistic in others.

That being said, I think Indigo Disk might look better- I only saw a snippet right at the end, but there's a room I think I've seen as part of Blueberry Academy in the trailers and it actually looks like it comes from this decade, so I hope it looks that good when it eventually comes, because a lot of the rest looks unfinished. Charming enough in some places, just... could be better.

Now that's the environmental graphics- character and Pokemon models look pretty decent and have some good texture work. I suspect that's a different studio making those, though. But god damn, someone was paying attention to Perrin's ass and legs, and Briar's ass too. Not a complaint, I'm glad they had fun- you can just see the creases in the pants though is all I'm saying lol. The new character models look really good overall, and Carmine, Kieran, and Briar have really interesting eyes.

Animation isn't really much to write home about except what I think are mocap animations in regular talking- which is about par per course for base SV. That being said, it's kind of stiff in some scenes, particularly in some scenes with The Loyal Trio, where you can practically see them moving robotically as they move in scene to run away. It gets a bit worse when you see the frames drop from npc's within very close range.

the new Pokemon and forms are... Okay, I guess. Ogerpon is definitely one of my favs and her masks are very fun, and Okidogi is easily the better of the trio. Blood Moon Ursaluna also looks great, although I do prefer og Hisuian. The rest are... ehh to bad. I have slight hope for Dipplin since, apparently, it can use Eviolite- Pokemon that can't evolve further can't use it, ergo it must be able to evolve, just not until Indigo Disk.

One more complaint is that I feel like the map being smaller than Paldea probably helps it run better, but I think a few towns or villages are necessary, just full stop. Kitakami having 1 town just doesn't vibe right with me. In that regard, it almost makes Paldea feel smaller in comparison, because this one village has all of this land, you know?

I know I've done a lot of complaining, but I did honestly find stuff I liked. First of all, once you progress enough in Carmine and Kieran's story, you can get the Teal Card which unlocks more hair styles and a shit ton of more accessories to Paldean stores- Clothes wise, though, you only get new Jinbei outfits, and you don't get the other two until you beat the main story, and then a special one until you do one more side quest. But, more customization is always nice. and I finally have a hairstyle that I'm somewhat okay with.

The pokemon variety in Kitakami is also surprisingly done well. I've used Pokemon I wasn't really expecting to use, such as Poliwrath, Yanmega, and Morpeko. Even then, I'm surprised to see some Pokemon like the Conkeldurr or Tandemaus families here- mainly because this is WAY far away from Paldea and back in Japan.

That's another thing I like- outright confirmation that this is way, WAY far away from Paldea and not just a repurposed European area to the north. A plane and bus ride are required to get here- this makes it the furthest new area a main character has ever traversed, and to me? That's really cool. Further still, they tell us point blank at the beginning that Blueberry Academy is in UNOVA, which I am excited and a little scared for, but don't expect to really get to explore all that much. Idk, stuff like that feels very soulful to me.

Speaking of Soul, there's a decent amount of Hisui love in the Blood Moon quest. I won't spoil it, but something happens that made my jaw drop, and it was really, REALLY amazing.

Finally, difficulty is subjective to each player and how they approach this dlc, much like IoA. I think, however, they tweaked it way better to be beginner friendly AND very challenging for post game content with npc characters and wild pokemon you can encounter VERY EARLY (if you're not careful or go venturing too far off) being around level 70+. Personally, I brought along some Pokemon around level 60 and 50 to get me started and had some difficulty, then I went further and caught local pokemon and trained them up too with even more difficulty. But it was still pretty fun, the fights were challenging, Carmine and Kieran actually use strategy to win, and the NPCs can kick your ass if you're not prepared. I actually lost a battle to a bitch in a cave of all things.

Overall, a 6/10 is passing, even if barely. I dock points because of lack of polish and glitches, and then dock a couple more because of things I wish they'd have done differently. I enjoyed it, but they seriously needed to let it cook longer. No, you did encounter glitches and I am not exaggerating or making it up, you're just not paying attention to the slow downs or floor clipping in battles or you're just outright lying to yourself. Make your concerns heard so GF will actually do something about it- They do listen sometimes, believe it or not, even if most of the time they plug their ears up and hum gen 1 music to silence most criticism.

I actually look forward to Indigo Disk. At this point, I hope it releases in January and not November. They need to take their time with it, because I have a feeling things are going to be a bit more story heavy.

[elusivexo]

deep poppy red-oranges gradually sweeping up and fading into pale then midnight blues, outlines of tall proud buildings with specks of window light illuminated by smooth moonlight, the dark waters lapping rhythmically at the shore, the bridge rising majestically across it all. new york is always beautiful, and this is my favorite view of the city, but tonight, it’s more arresting than usual.

my memory often fails me, but i still very clearly remember looking over the white marble kitchen counter at the view of the city skyline neatly sectioned off by black frames. it was sunset, and i felt my heart burst in contentment and wonder. how was i so lucky to be living here, in this perfect apartment, at 27? little did i know how much of myself i would have to sacrifice for this dream beyond dreams - a beautiful, clean, spacious home with the most amazing view every time i cooked, in my beloved city. i never asked for it nor dared to imagine it. i remember telling myself to never take it for granted.

walk-in clinic is the best possible distraction; i’m so consumed by the patients’ stories, the frenetic pace, and the frustration of the situation that i don’t have the capacity to think of anything else. playing terraforming mars and focusing on my to-do list helps, too; i’m a master of compartmentalization and denial. when amrita texted me to say “omg 2 days :O how are you feeling?,” i broke. “trying not to think about it, lol” i responded blithely. the truth is, i’m terrified of losing my fiercest love.

[zerobaselove]

hello saturn <3 just popping in to check in that ur all good and healthy 🫶 what have u been up to lately?

- 🏀

omg !! 🏀 anon !! i’ve missed u !! honestly these days have been kinda busy but in my spare time (and this zb1 content drought) i’ve been getting into xikers which has been so so fun !! and my other main ults (verivery) are having a cb soon so i’ve been losing my marbles over teasers

trying my best to take care of myself in the process <33 i hope you’re doing the same lovely !! what about you, what’s new :D

[wmfredrickson]

Intoxikie - Love Poem Attempt 5 EXPLICIT CONTENT: references to sex, drugs and alcohol. All content copyright to Intoxikie _____________________________________________________________ In a darker side of life The night starts to fight A lonesome soul With a broken nose Hard to sniff my way home An odor of weed smoke Crawls through the smell of blood on my nostril I could do with some sex and weed right now Loneliness and needs to fight now Some tell me to see the light But leave out how to Down the path of smoke Is a trail of laughter I chase it running from sadness Do you know madness? "Yes I know madness" Oh so we both know madness Then let's get crazy tonight I've already got in a fight My face is still sore But I'm ready to face some more

In pain we kiss As her tongue strokes my bleeding lip I grasp her hips And push her against the wall Squeeze her thigh And stroke her neck Tonight I've been turning to something else Mind loses sense of trana fit into society I laugh as I fall onto the grass Grab her leg, bring her down with me As I say "I know that this time tomorrow I'll miss you My mind fills with new rhymes when I kiss you"

I take my chance and I grab it She pushes me away like I'm attacking I'm just trana fix the balance I'm a creature of habit And a freak that panics Craving, so feed the addict L.O.V.E and aspirin Amnesia haze, schizophrenic chronic Your body -- I want it

This frustration is my punishment For losing patience with the world Anxiety Additionally addicted to isolation I'm paranoid Even the mirror says "What you looking at?" And I say "I'm looking fucked Lost my marbles and now I'm having a fucking look"

Here comes my darkest moment As my subconscious composes it I can't control it Memories overloading And the emotions that go with them And memories thrown in Wait - where are you going? Can't you help me find the light at the end of the tunnel? Find the prize for having fun in this bubble? Help me overcome this before it becomes more trouble I'm something of a Peter Pan Tear this shadow off me and let it run away It's this shadow that keeps me down and out Hence why it's trana choke-choke me now So just cut it off, let it stray Then she asks me "Won't you chase after it in fear of becoming normal?" I considered an answer to offer her But what I came to ask myself was; "Do I try to hide my insanity Or try to hide behind my insanity?"

You're so different to them They're stupid but we're better then that Cos god damn it we're mad I say this with a smile You're so different to them They're stupid but we're better then that Cos god damn it we're mad The only difference is I still love your madness when I sober ...up You just wish it was over ...fuck Yes let's love with our bodies Throw your mind to the side and just be mine Written august 26th -- 29th 2012 Poem Copyright to Intoxikie 2014