#my expectation was high but part 3 was so disappointing sigh

[katstarry]

no one noticed

eddie munson x reader

part i

masterlist ☆

part ii | part iii

summary: being paired up for a project with eddie leads to a beautiful friendship, it's inevitable that you gain a crush.

warnings: PINING, slow burn, fluff, slight self-deprecating thoughts?, reader is an academic achiever/seeks academic validation kinda (self insert lmaoo), reader has long hair, the upside down doesn't exist here, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: this is longer than i expected it to be, maybe i'll even make a small series of this :3 lmk if you guys would be interested!

feedback + reblogs are appreciated! ☆

the morning started out as it always does.

your alarm wakes you up, you get ready for school, say goodbye to your mom, and maybe grab a quick snack before heading out and driving to school. the usual routine.

it's your senior year, it's supposed to be the best year of high school. though, so far it has been very disappointing. you blame yourself for not being as extroverted as you hoped to be during your freshman year, now you don't have as many friends as middle school you had envisioned.

but you do have robin.

she's been your closest friend throughout the years, having met her in freshman year in the library, where you spent your lunchtime at, and you're okay with just having one close friend. you've come to peace with that. robin has been the bestest friend you've ever had, she's became a confidant, and you never have to put up a front with her. it's easy to talk to her, she has that sort of power somehow. what usually takes you a few weeks to become comfortable with someone new, it had only been a mere few days before being totally comfortable with robin.

as you walk into the school, you walk to your locker, seeing her right beside it.

"hey robin," you smile at her as she moves out the way for you, "good morning."

she returns your smile with her shoulder to the locker beside your own, one bookbag strap hanging from the other, "goood morning!"

you grab the materials you need for the first class of the day, "what's got you so happy this early?" you yawn.

robin shrugs, "can't a woman just be happy to see her best friend?"

rolling your eyes playfully, "of course you can!" you smirk at her, closing the locker and adjusting your bag on your shoulder, "...but maybe it has to do with a certain bandmate of yours?" you whisper.

she gasps, whispering back, "what! no. definitely not, definitely did not talk to her just a few minutes ago."

you laugh as the bell rings, signaling the start of the day.

"guess i'll see you at lunch?"

she nods, "can we go to the cafeteria today instead of the library? forgot my lunch today, woke up late."

you both begin to walk to the direction of your classes, "yeah that's fine, see you there!" giving her a side hug, you both go your separate ways.

it's now your class before lunch, history.

the day has felt longer than usual. you can't wait for it to be over and have your after school nap.

dropping your bag beside your desk, you sit and take out your notebook for the class.

the other students come walking in, he sits in his usual spot behind you.

you sit up straighter, god i'm so embarrassing.

usually, you hate having to have people sit behind you. it always feels like their watching your every move. of course, it's not true, but you can't help but think it. it's why you always sit in the back. but unfortunately, those seats were taken when you had walked in the first day of this class.

it's even worse when you think the person behind you is cute.

you move your hair to your shoulders, hoping it covers the sight to your notebook. you're just shading in the margins.

you look up when the teacher gets up from his desk, class is about to start.

"alright class, let's get started."

he walks over to the door and shuts it, and begins taking attendance.

"well, for today it'll be fairly easy. you won't hear me talk much today," the class let's out sighs of relief, the jocks who get along with him laugh playfully, "alright, alright. you won't be doing that after what i tell you."

oh no. you already know what he's about to say.

"we'll be doing a project! you'll be grouped up in pairs." immediately people begin to look at one another, already knowing who they want to be paired with, you look around, you don't really talk to anyone in that class. though, nancy wheeler has been kind to you, hopefully she'd want to pair up with you. but probably not, since barb and jonathan is in this class too. you can still hope though. any of them!

"before you get excited, i'll be the one assigning groups. it'll be at random."

now, the class really does let out sounds of disappointment and dissatisfaction.

"i told you, you wouldn't like it!" he laughs and clears his throat and goes back to his desk, grabbing a piece of paper and going back to leaning on his podium.

"alright, let's see here." he goes on to list the pairings, you anxiously wait for your name to be called.

please. please, please, pair me with nancy. or barb. or jonathan.

"nancy wheeler and-" please! "barbara holland."

well, okay. that's fine, who else is left? you'd been so caught up in waiting for your name that you hadn't kept up with who was called and who hasn't. jonathan! he hasn’t been called yet. please, please, please-

"y/n l/n and-" oh shit, that's you. "eddie munson."

oh shit, he's behind you.

the girl in front of you turns around and whispers to you, "good luck."

should you turn around? if you don't what if he thinks you're upset about being paired with him? you should probably turn around, the teacher keeps listing names, and you look back briefly.

he's already looking at you and you awkwardly make eye contact; you give a small smile and turn back around. okay that wasn't so bad right? dang it. you've tried your hardest to not talk to him. but if you think someone's cute you should want to talk to them, right? wrong. you never know what to say when you like someone, how can you even like someone without talking to them? you don't know, but it happened anyway. and now you're basically being forced to talk to him.

robin's going to love this.

"okay, now that you know who your partners are, i'll talk about what this project will be about. you and your partners will come up with a topic, it'll have to be a significant part of history. you'll make a presentation where both will have to speak in front of the class. you can bring in photos, poster boards, anything to aid the presentations. it's not necessary, but it could earn you extra points!"

he looks over to the clock on the wall, "... i'll give you until the end of class, which is about," he looks down to his wristwatch to double check, "40 minutes from now, to come up with a topic, come to my desk to let me know you've come up with something before leaving class, please."

clapping his hands together, he sighs, "alright! pair up!"

everyone begins to move to be with their partners, darn it. all you have to do is turn around. it's not that big a deal. as nervous as you are to talk to eddie, your grade matters more than a silly crush.

you turn around in your seat, grabbing your notebook and putting it in your lap. finally looking up you see him tapping his pencil on his desk, also looking up. the awkward eye contact again, awkward to you at least.

okay. maybe you can fail one project.

who are you kidding, your parents would look at you crazy if you came home with a failing grade.

"hey." you finally say, giving him another shy smile. god damn it why are you so awkward.

he nods, "hey." he leans onto his elbows, looking away, "it's alright if you wanna switch partners y'know? or if you wanna work alone, or something."

you look at him in surprise, "no! it's fine. i don't mind working with you, sorry if i gave that impression." furrowing your eyebrows, dang it maybe your nervousness made him think that.

he looks back to you, "really? i wouldn't want to bring your grade down, straight A student." he smiles. okay, now he's just messing with you.

you can't help the heat that rushes to your cheeks, so he must know about you then? how does he know that?

"funny that you think i would let that happen." you laugh.

he leans back onto his chair, arms now crossed on the table. "alright then, are you sure you wanna be my partner, then?" he looks at you, eyebrows raised.

"yes, i'm sure." you now lean on his desk, arms also crossed.

"do you have any ideas for our topic?" you grab the notebook from your lap, grab a pencil, and put it in between you both on the desk.

he sits up now, leaning on the desk, mirroring your actions.

oh no, he's close now, breathe.

he scratches the back of his neck, "uh... not really."

"alright, that's fine. uhm," you look at the clock, "we have about 35? 30? minutes, so we have time. we should just pick a few things and then we can pick the one we like best, yeah?" you write in your notebook, ideas, and underline it. you look back up and find eddie looking down at your notebook before looking back up as well.

"yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

you tap your pencil and bite your lip, thinking.

"hmm... we could do like the great depression or something." you murmur and write it down.

as you have your head down to write it, you miss eddie's panicked gaze. he's never really had much care for these types of things since usually whoever he's partnered with doesn't even bother talking to him and do it all themselves, doesn't even give him the chance to contribute. he quickly tries to think so that he can add something too.

"uh, the- what about the american revolution? or something? i dunno."

you look back up, "yeah! you wanna write that?"

you offer the pencil to him, "sure." he takes it, turning the notebook towards him, feeling a bit insecure about his handwriting compared to yours that's above his own. it isn't the neatest, and he never really cared about it, but he can't help it when you look at him like that.

the rest of the time goes by like that, going back and forth with ideas, your notebook page filled with both your handwriting.

"okay, we have like 10 minutes left. do you have a favorite?"

you tilt your head as you wait for an answer.

"uh," he bites his lip as he looks down at the list, "the invention of the printing press?" to be honest he just picked a random one.

"cool! i'm alright with that." you smile as you put a small star beside the idea.

"hmm... would you want to do a poster board? or anything?"

no, honestly he would not. but he looks at you and can tell that you really would, anything that would earn extra points, right? he smiles.

"i wouldn't mind it. i could buy the stuff for it." he doesn't have the money for it, but he'll just have to sell more of his stuff for it.

"really? no that's okay, i'm the one that wanted to do it."

"nooo," he gives you a pointed look, playfully scolding you, "i'll buy it. what do we need for that?" he plays with the end of his hair twisting it in front of his face. a nervous habit of his, you make him nervous. not that you realize.

"well, the board, some markers, we could use mine since i already have some, and some glue. we could print out the stuff we need at the library, once we find out whatever we need to print."

"alrighty then. we made a lot of progress today then, huh? i'm the best partner you could have! we're really an unstoppable duo, right here." he puts his hand up for a high-five.

you give him the high-five, ignoring the tingly feeling on your hand, and it wasn't from the impact.

"oh yeah, totally." you laugh.

"i don't like that tone." he squints at you.

"what do you mean? i'm serious! we are the best duo." you smile.

"alright, i believe you." he smiles and stretches.

the bell rings, and it feels like suddenly the day went by too fast now.

you stand and grab your things, writing your names on an index card and the topic for the project.

eddie stands as well, about to say something but you beat him to it.

"let's go turn in our topic."

he usually is out the door when they do this, okay.

you both walk to the teachers desk, you smile and give him the index card.

he takes it and looks up with a smile, "great topic!" he looks over at eddie, "hopefully she rubs off on you!"

you frown and look over at eddie, who gives him a sarcastic smile and nod.

you both walk out the classroom, "do you have lunch after this?" he asks.

you stop in your tracks, about to walk to the cafeteria to meet robin.

"yeah i do, do you?"

"yup." he smiles and walks beside you, making your way to the cafeteria.

"y'know i was always scared to talk to you." he gives you a side eye, before looking straight again.

"what? of me?" you look over at him incredulously.

"oh, totally. thought you were scary, y'know being a smarty pants and all."

ah, so he's messing with you. again.

"ha ha," you roll your eyes, though you're smiling, "very funny."

"you know those candies? what're they called? smarties? yeah, that's you."

"what? it's a candy!" you laugh.

"so? that's still you."

"okay, okay. i'm not that smart alright?" you shake your head, still smiling. you can't stop smiling.

he looks at you like you're crazy. "you're kidding, right? don't you have like, the highest grade in the class?"

you shrug, feeling shy. "could be better, though."

the cafeteria is in view now, and you desperately need to change the subject. "well, guess this is where we go our separate ways." you sigh dramatically.

"i guess so." he breaks eye contact and looks around, "you could uh, sit at our table. if you want."

"oh! uh... i wouldn't want to bother-" "you wouldn't be."

you smile at him and he swears he can hear his heat beating out his chest right now.

"thank you. but i was gonna meet with my friend robin. i'll see you tomorrow in class, though."

"right, yeah, that's fine. see you tomorrow." he opens the door to the cafeteria and dramatically makes way for you to pass through.

you wave him goodbye as he makes way to his groups table, you see robin at your usual spot.

oh you aren't going to hear the end of this.

[pomefioredove]

i just noticed on your 'yuu gets sold' sorta series that there was a good ending, by chance could you do a bad ending one? if not that's totally ok! keep safe and stay healthy ❤️

oh god. I have a very evil idea for this.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim

summary: a bad (or good, depending on your stance) ending type of post: short fic characters: surprise :) additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is short, HELP

Everyone waits.

The chatter and banter which once occupied the courtyard dies down to dull whispers and foot tapping.

Everyone waits, and there's no Crowley.

"Wonderful," Jamil sighs. "He's probably taken all the money and run off. I told you all that-"

"Maybe he's late!" Kalim shouts. A few in the crowd murmur in hopeful agreement.

Silver coughs. "Maybe he realized this whole thing is ridiculous and is processing everyone's refunds,"

They don't like that option as much.

The sun hangs lower and lower in the sky, threatening to shroud everyone in darkness as the minutes tick on.

"Well, I've had enough of this," Vil says, turning towards the exit. "I've put off my afternoon long enough."

"For once, we can agree on something," Leona murmurs, dragging Ruggie along with him.

No one is exactly surprised with this turn of events- but there's a definite sense of disappointment that everyone is sharing.

"He probably just forgot or 'somethin," Epel says, walking alongside Ace, Deuce, and Jack back to Ramshackle to update you on the happenings.

Jack shrugs. "He's definitely not the most organized, but there's no way someone could just "forget" about this. I think Jamil is right, he probably ran off with the money while he could. The swindler..."

Deuce is the next to add something to the pity party. "And yet, we should've known this was a possibility,"

"Shoulda seen it coming..." Epel murmurs. "I shoulda listened to Vil and pulled out while I still had the chance. Dang it..."

The lights are on in Ramshackle as the four approach, a warm and welcome sight after their disappointing afternoon. And the front door is open- were you expecting them?

"Hm. Well, think of it this way," Ace pushes the door the rest of the way open. "We may have been scammed, but at least nothing changes. I mean, it could've been worse."

"A lot worse," Deuce murmurs, following him inside.

The four make it into the foyer and stop dead in their tracks.

There are many things to expect walking into Ramshackle- cobwebs, dust, ghosts, you- Crowley is usually not one of them.

"You- you've been here this whole time?!" Epel shouts, throwing his arms out. "We were all 'waitin for 'ya like a bunch of idjits!"

Deuce and Ace wince. "Dude, chill... but seriously, where were you?"

Crowley doesn't have the chance to answer before something else steals away their attention.

You walk into the room, suitcase in hand. "Guys?"

The four turn to greet you, eyes wide at the luggage you're carrying. "What's that... Crowley?"

The man himself just stands there, pretending to ponder something. "I could have sworn I sent someone to break the news... how peculiar,"

Epel's brow knots. "What news?"

"A third party somehow got wind of our little... venture and donated a very high sum at the last minute. Along with a very passionately worded letter about our dear prefect's safety here at school," he pauses. "Or lack thereof."

Crowley sighs. "The name rung a bell, but... I couldn't imagine how or why anyone outside of NRC would be following the prefect's moves so closely,"

Deuce's eyes narrow. "Crowley. What are you trying to say?"

"Well, I..." he says, seemingly at a loss for words. "I'm afraid to say that our prefect is being transferred to Noble Bell College,"

[qwimblenorrisstan]

The Clandestine Culinarian Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After you’re introduced to his family and move into the House of Wind, you begin training with Azriel as a way to pass time and cope with your losses, but something unexpected happens, and a seed of jealousy begins blooming in another female’s heart.

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of blades, family deaths, itsy bitsy angst, nothing too bad.

A/N: I feel like this isn’t my best work but it pulled me out of writer’s block so whatever, lmk if you want a part three, hope you enjoy it <3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

When you woke in the morning, Azriel was gone, probably off to his room, or house now that you thought of it.

You weren’t sure why you expected him to still be there, or why a little bit of you felt disappointed that he wasn’t.

Stumbling out of bed, you found some clothes in the closet that looked like they’d been borrowed from you for the time being, a few dresses and some pairs of tunics and pants. You ended up putting on a simple romper that went down just above your kneecap, a light flowery purple. Your niece would’ve liked it, you thought.

Miraculously, there were fresh toiletries and supplies in the bathroom, and so you brushed your teeth so hard your gums bled, and pulled a brush through your unruly hair until it finally settled down a bit.

After what felt like an hour of trying to smooth down the loose ends, you gave an exasperated sigh and moved on to slip some shoes on your feet. When you were finally all dressed and ready, you looked in the bathroom mirror at your reflection.

You looked…fine. Not overly bad, but the lasting effects of your grief were still obvious in the slight redness of your eyes, or the hint of puffiness in your cheeks where tears had rolled down the night before.

“I’m going to be fine.”

You murmured to yourself while staring into the mirror. You were upset and sad and angry, but the world didn’t stop, and neither could you.

“Y’know, usually when I want to feel good about myself I just go flirt with the ladies, but to each their own-“

A low, brusque but amused voice drawled from the doorframe, making you jump and spin to face him, one hand over your now-racing heart.

“Mother above, you scared me!”

You said, sighing and shaking your head before looking up at the stranger.

Not exactly a stranger, you reminded yourself. The General. You could recognize him almost immediately, his large muscular body, the stubble on his face, and his golden hazel eyes, not to mention the dark black hair that was tied back in a man-bun right now.

He only chuckled at your fright, giving you nothing short of an idiotic grin. A hint of sympathy was behind those eyes, you thought.

“So you’re the lady friend Az brought, huh? Welcome to the family, then.”

He said, not elaborating any further as he slung his large arm around your shoulder and began guiding you out of your room, into what seemed like a dining room. A glimmer of something knowing also lurked in his eyes.

The High Lady, Feyre sat down in one of the chairs, Nyx bouncing on her knee and eagerly shoving a piece of bacon down his throat while Rhys watched and snorted in amusement. Another female, Elain, was in the kitchen, cooking up a large breakfast for the entire family and seeming happy while doing it. Nesta seemed to be helping if only to have a taste of the bacon while it was still steaming hot how she liked it.

“Go have a seat, I’ll have our Elain make you a plate.”

He said, releasing you from his grasp if only to push you towards the table. Before you could manage thanks, he’d already strode off into the kitchen, arms wrapped around Nesta’s waist as he pressed little kisses into her neck from behind.

You hesitantly sat down in one of the chairs, feeling a bit out of place in this family’s home. Feyre and Rhys both glanced up at you, sharing a glance between themselves before she gave a polite nod and warm smile, going back to feeding Nyx.

“Ah. I hope you slept well, at least. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

Rhys said, still glancing over at Nyx and quietly snickering before turning his full attention to you. As you opened your mouth to speak, his expression turned a bit serious, making you pause a moment.

“I hate to tell you like this, but because of the…business, you and your family were running, nothing can be held against Kier or his men. I’m truly sorry I can’t-“

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

You cut him off, feeling bad for it but then going on, watching as his violet eyes almost widened. You knew that nothing could be done from the moment Kier’s men had stormed into the bakery. There was nothing Rhys could’ve done to save them, and nothing you could’ve done either, other than shutting down the business.

“You’re already letting me stay in your home, with your family, and providing for me, so please, don’t apologize for anything.”

You finished. He paused a moment, before giving a slight dip of his head as a nod, that he wouldn’t do it again despite what he might believe.

Elain and Nesta came out, plates in their hands while Cassian trailed behind with another few in his, and they passed them out to everyone, including you. It was a healthy variety of normal breakfast foods, scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns, etc.

They all sat down and began digging in while talking, and you weren’t about to not follow their example.

“I forget how much of a bitch cooking can be,”

Nesta said, before taking a bite of toast.

“Yeah, guess we are a bit spoiled back home, huh? Living in a sentient House and all.”

Cassian said with that big idiotic grin, nudging her with his elbow as he swallowed. That comment alone made you swirl with questions.

“Sentient House?”

You asked, raising a brow. That only made Rhys chuckle and shake his head.

“Yes, Cassian and Nesta live in the House of Wind. It’s a sentient home right off of Velaris, on the border almost.”

He replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Don’t forget Az, he’s quiet but he can be a menace when he wants to be.”

Cassian said with his mouth full. Nesta rolled her eyes and swatted him for talking with his mouth full, at which he dramatically acted like he’d suffered a fatal wound.

“You don’t know the half of it. Once he rearranged my entire personal bookshelf in reverse alphabetical order. It took me an entire day just to sort them back out.”

She said, huffing just at the memory alone. You couldn’t help the little bit of genuine laughter that escaped your lips from that.

“What did you do to piss him off that bad?”

You then asked, and Nesta smirked, clearly enjoying thinking about what she'd done to poor Azriel.

“I gave them some money and told them to go have fun. They ended up winning a jackpot that Azriel had to go claim the money for. You should’ve seen the owner’s face when he realized that the shadows had won, I don’t think the shadowsinger has set foot in that place since.”

She said, and Cassian began laughing at that alone, while Rhys and Feyre snickered, and Nyx began giggling and babbling over a hash brown. Cassian’s face went thoughtful for a moment before he glanced up at you.

“You know, you could start training with Az maybe. It’s sort of a custom for our newcomers to start training.”

He said, glancing at Feyre and then at Nesta, who both raised a brow at him. Elain then spoke up.

“He’s always on missions, though. Wouldn’t the inconsistency make it useless?”

She asked in that annoyingly innocent tone, almost like she was a child trying to please their mother with how dainty and sweet they were. You didn’t know why it annoyed you as much as it did, the fact that she knew his schedule, and was actively discouraging you from spending time with him.

“He’s not on too many, things have settled down since the war ended. I think it could help keep your mind off things, too.”

Rhys said with a little nod as if confirming this.

“It’d be more practical if you moved to the House, then. It gets a bit too quiet sometimes, so we wouldn’t mind.”

Nesta said with a shrug, studying you intently for a moment before going back to eating her breakfast, halfway on Cassian’s lap already.

“I’ll ask Az after breakfast, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Cassian said, before shoving another mouthful of fried egg in his mouth, at which Nesta cringed and gave him a look, playfully disgusted.

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

“You want me to what?”

“Train her, just in the mornings like what I do with Nesta and her friends. It'll get her mind off of things.”

“Cassian, you know that I can't commit to that with my work-”

“I think you're just scared of females.”

Cassian retorted, in the most serious tone he could manage while Azriel gave him an incredulous look, annoyed.

“I am not scared of females.”

He said firmly, glaring at his brother.

“Oh yeah? When's the last time you've had a hookup?”

Azriel’s mind went frustratingly blank at that. He huffed, before replying.

“I don't see how that's relevant.”

Cassian let out a hoot of laughter, only making the crimson blush creeping up Azriel’s neck progress further.

“See? You are scared of females. Are your nightmares haunted by the sight of pussy?”

Cassian said, making his voice quiver on purpose with his last sentence, making a little ‘oooooh’ sound as if a ghost were haunting Azriel. Azriel only scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. I'll train her if you'll stop tormenting me.”

He said, a begrudging resignation in his usually firm and cold tone. Cassian gave a grin of triumph, clapping his brother on the back as he walked past him.

“Good. Treat her well, she's been through a lot.”

He said, before walking out and leaving Azriel alone in the cold office he owned in the House of Wind.

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

He seemed to have snuck into your life much faster than you'd expected him to.

You’d moved into the House of Wind, which hadn’t been difficult given your lack of actual things to pack and move, and very slowly adjusted to living in a sentient House.

It still scared the shit out of you when the bath would randomly start running at the perfect temperature, with all the oils you loved, at the exact time when you were thinking about how much you’d like a bath. Or the times when perfect meals would show up, both healthy and also satisfying your specific cravings, and how the House almost adjusted to fit your needs every time, providing you with everything you needed, clothes, entertainment, food, water, and more.

The training was a different subject, though.

You still could barely do the stretches Azriel tried to work you through. His lithe, muscular body could pull it off flawlessly, which you supposed was a given for someone who had centuries of practice and experience. Most of the time, it only succeeded in you being sore and aching in the mornings, and that was how it went for what felt like years, though only a month had passed.

There was one thing you particularly enjoyed about your training, though.

“Like this, your arm should be hooked around, but not depending on it too much..”

His voice was quiet but strong, confident, and sure as he always was in his silent way as he guided you. His own muscular body, donning no shirt, performed the same exercise you were supposed to be doing, and mimicking poorly.

You couldn’t help but be distracted by the winding tattoo that seemed almost alive as the rising sun cast an orange glow of light against his body, creating a perfect contrast and mixture with his already-tanned skin and midnight hair. Not to mention the light purple color that was projected onto the ground through the thinnest parts of his wing’s membrane, the sun casting light against it as well.

Azriel had grown closer to you in the month you’d been around him, and you’d noticed him observing you intently as if to catch every little habit and quirk about you. You’d been watching, too, seeing the way his fingers might twitch if exposed to the cold, or how his wings fluttered ever so slightly when a cool breeze went by, and all of the things he tried too hard to conceal and lock away.

“…”

You snapped out of it, seeing him watching you with a blank stare, only a glimmer of suspicion and curiosity in his dark hazel eyes.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

You said, shaking your head to get yourself back into the headspace of training, where you could forget your grief and sadness, and become something new, something freer and unbound.

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

Azriel knew he was pushing it when only one and a half months into your training he slowly began introducing you to swordplay.

He didn’t give you a real sword, over his dead body would he provide a real weapon to a beginner, you had to earn your steel, but for now he gave you a worn wooden one. The same one Nesta had used when Cassian had started training her.

You’d seemed unsure about it, but accepted it without complaint, as you seemed to do with most he did these days. He had caught himself several times, the lingering glances, his hands ‘accidentally’ brushing against your waist, the sparkling heat in his veins when he saw you in those tight Illyrian leathers, trying to obey him and go into the positions he showed you.

He was wondering if you’d caught him, though he already knew the answer.

It was nearly impossible to resist the urge when his shadows screamed and cried silently out for you when they tried to shove you two together and force him to confront you with his suppressed feelings and desires. He’d never felt them so strongly attached to someone other than himself before, and it made him a bit uneasy.

However, it all came to a climax when today, for what felt like the hundredth time, he knocked your wooden sword to the ground and had you pinned beneath his gaze, but this time, his sword against your neck, hands holding you down, something different happened.

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

It felt like a warmth blooming throughout your entire body, as if someone had lit the butterflies in your stomach on fire and they were now exploding and popping, sending waves of heat and shock throughout your being. Though you didn’t know what was fully happening, your instincts did.

Azriel stumbled back as if he’d been hit, staring wide-eyed at you, and as you opened your mouth to speak he immediately disappeared in a flurry of shadows and darkness, winnowing somewhere.

Training was over for today, you assumed, as you tossed your wooden sword to the ground in the training ring and walked inside, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened, and why he’d seemed so utterly shocked.

You knew he had his eyes on Elain, helping her harden and cook and spending time with her and seeming all too happy about it while training with you seemed like pulling teeth to him.

You tried to shake it off as you headed back into your room to decompress in a hot bath.

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

Mate.

The word had hit him like a brick at that moment, and the next thing he knew he was hiccuping and sobbing, mumbling out words to Rhys in his office.

His brother held him close, not questioning what he said for now and just listening.

“She’s my mate, Rhys, and I don’t even think she knows it, but I don’t..how am I going to tell her? She doesn’t want me-“

He’d sobbed into Rhys’ shoulder, his brother quietly shushing him. It had been too long since Azriel had cried, centuries almost, and this had just broken the dam and let the flood tear through his body. The shadows seemed agitated as they swirled around the room, poking and prodding at the furniture and whatnot.

“It’s okay, Az. One step at a time, just breathe, okay? Take a deep breath, and let’s calm down.”

Rhys said in the most soothing, soft tone he could manage, one usually only reserved for Nyx and sometimes Feyre if she was lucky.

However, unbeknownst to either of them, a third person listened in. A female who’d had her eyes on the shadowsinger longer than that new girl thrown into the mix. Elain Archeron believed she was a far better match for Azriel’s stoicism and reserved nature, only she should get the privilege of seeing behind those stone walls he’d built up. A feeling of twisted jealousy and possession curdling in her sweet, loving heart, unlike anything she’d felt before.

That new girl suddenly being Azriel’s mate? That wouldn’t do.

Not at all.

Tags:

@lilah-asteria

@evangeline-xo

@hayrunnwr

@rcarbo1

Part 3

[kiarastromboli]

Teach me 3 (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)

Part. 1. Part.2

Masterlist.

Warning: angst, argument ?

Summary: After being summoned by her principal for what she did with Chris, Y/N sees things take a completely different turn. Unintentionally, Chris will not make it any easier for her, pushing her to make a choice that is more than painful for their mutual well-being.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A week had passed since the incident in the locker room with Chris.

After being summoned, the principal decided to suspend both Chris and me from school for two weeks.

If only that was the end of it…

After the meeting, my parents demanded a serious discussion at home.

“Y/n, I’m trying to keep my calm, but what the hell is this story?”

“This is not how we raised you. What kind of girl sleeps with a guy in her high school locker room?”

“Your behavior is disappointing, Y/n. I expected better from you.”

“For how long did you hide this little adventure with that asshole from us?”

“Do you realize how irresponsible you’ve been? Do you think universities will appreciate seeing this on your school record?”

“Believe me, you won’t see that boy again, Y/n. I’ll make sure you never see him again.”

It was mainly my father speaking, as usual. My mother just cried, casting disdainful glances at me, as if I had ruined our lives with my actions.

As always, it wasn’t about me, but about them. I was their daughter, but I wasn’t really myself. All my life, I had been just their daughter, nothing more. The one time I allowed myself to be me, I ended up making an unforgivable mistake in their eyes.

I was not allowed to go out, and I hadn’t seen my phone since then, so no way to communicate with Chris about what happened.

I felt so guilty for leaving him in the dark like this. Chris knew my parents were strict, but I had never dared to tell him how much.

I wasn’t even allowed to break up with my boyfriend as I wanted; my father took care of sending him a message, making it clear that if he dared to approach me, he’d be in trouble.

It was the first time in my life that I was punished, and the first time I saw my parents so disappointed in me. To be honest, I was disappointed in myself. What had possessed me to do that? What did I hope to achieve?

I hoped to one day be more than just their daughter, seriously, Y/n?

My days consisted of crying, staring at my bedroom ceiling, and rereading the same books over and over. Maybe that’s all I deserved after what I did.

And maybe it was better for Chris too. He and I could never have worked; we could never have hidden this relationship indefinitely, and my parents would never have accepted me being with him.

He loved a girl who didn’t even have the right to exist, and how selfish I was to trust that “we” could ever exist one day.

I had to let him go, even if it broke my heart. I knew that by staying with him, I condemned us to a catastrophic end, and it eventually happened.

It was now 2 a.m., and I was lying in my bed doing nothing. Sleep had abandoned me a long time ago.

Every night when the lights went out, the only thing I could think about was how much I had disappointed my parents, and it haunted me.

*knock knock knock*

I panicked and sat up in bed when I heard the familiar sound at my window.

*knock knock knock*

I knew it was him, but what was I supposed to do?

*knock knock knock*

Oh my God, if he keeps this up, he’ll wake up my parents. I have no choice.

I got up to open the window for him, and he immediately entered, almost pushing me without waiting for my approval.

“Chris, what the hell?!” I said, surprised, as he stumbled towards my desk.

He looked in bad shape, with huge dark circles, disheveled hair, red eyes, and the smell of alcohol.

“My beautiful baby,” he said, placing his hand on my cheek and smiling.

“Chris, have you been drinking?” I asked, concerned, before going to lock my door.

“I missed you so much, Y/n,” he said, sitting on my bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I sighed.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my messages, baby? What did i do wrong?” he said, looking up at me.

“Chris, you have to leave. You can’t stay here,” I told him, sighing.

“I’m not going anywhere until you answer me,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Oh God, please, I’m serious. If my parents find you here, they’ll kill me. It’s not a joke!” I told him, getting annoyed.

“Y/n, I don’t care about your parents. This is about us!” he said, standing up.

“But what ‘us’ are you talking about, Chris? There’s no ‘us’ anymore!” I replied, feeling tears welling up.

"Y/n, you can't do this to me; I just went through the toughest week of my life without you," he said, breaking down.

"Y/n, look at me, look at the state I end up in without you; I need you," he said, hitting his chest.

I was simply helpless before his speech; it killed me to see him so distressed, and it broke my heart not to be able to do more to help him.

"Look at how pathetic I am without you," he said, grabbing my hand.

"Chris, you have to leave now," I said, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

"You can't give me the best moments of my life and take everything away like this overnight without giving me an explanation, Y/n. I'm sorry for what happened in the locker room; let me make it up to you," he said, getting upset.

I didn't know what to say; honestly, I wanted to tell him how much I missed him, but I had to let him go. The state he had just put himself in because of me was proof enough that this relationship was not good for him, and that's not what I wanted for him.

"Y/n, we'll find a solution, but you have to explain me the problem if you want us to get through this. I know you're not telling me everything, baby, talk to me," he said, locking his eyes with mine and placing his hands on my cheeks.

And I cracked. I cracked when I saw hope in his eyes, when I saw how much he wanted it to work. It was what I wanted too, but it led to nothing.

It would have been selfish of me to tell him how much I loved him, how much I wanted us to find a solution because I knew I had condemned myself. I knew that by giving him the slightest hope, I risked breaking him even more than I already had.

"Don't make things more complicated, please. I can't do this, Chris, go away," I said, crying.

"Baby, tell me what's wrong," he said in a trembling voice.

"My parents don't want me to see you anymore," I confessed, hoping he would understand, but I knew he wouldn't give up that easily.

"And is that the only problem? Y/n, if that's all, we can continue to see each other secretly. I swear I don't mind; they won't know anything! If that's what we have to do to stay together, then I'm ready to do it, ready for anything. But please, Y/n, don't end everything like this, I beg you," he said desperately.

"No, you don't understand. It will never work. What kind of couple hides their relationship from the world, Chris? You deserve better than that," I told him, shaking my head and stepping back.

"But it's you I want, Y/n. I climbed to your window, and it's with you that I want to spend the rest of my days," he said, advancing toward me.

His words were like shards of glass stabbing into my heart. As long as they remained, I knew the blood wouldn't flow, but I also knew I had to tear them out to heal.

"No, you're just drunk, and you don't mean any of what you're saying," I said, shaking my head and trying to hold back the tears.

"I'll tell you all this again tomorrow when I'm sober, and I'll tell you every day of my life if I have to. But, Y/n, please, I need you; I can't do it without you," he said, a tear running down his cheek.

I stood there, staring at him, crying, and he took me in his arms.

And I felt those same shards pierce my heart again because of the comfort I could find in his arms. I wished to die there, die in his arms.

"I'll fix everything, Y/n, I promise. Let me fix everything for you," he said, stroking my head, and my heart was never heavier than at that moment.

I cried so much I had trouble breathing; I couldn't stop. I was in his arms, and I knew it was probably the last time.

"Y/n, I love you; don't let me down," he said in a weak voice, and I left his arms.

I looked at him with tear-filled eyes; I wanted to scream that I loved him too, but I couldn't. So I closed my eyes and screamed it in my head without letting the sound escape my mouth.

He looked at me confused, and I bit my lip to stop my sobs.

"Y/n, please," he said, sighing.

I shook my head, and he started to move towards me, but before he reached me, I told him everything.

I had to tell him the truth if I wanted him to understand, even though I knew it meant stabbing him in the heart.

"My parents are sending me to another school, Chris," I said in one go.

"What?" he said, confused, stopping.

"They don't trust me anymore. They're sending me to a private school on the other side of the country," I told him, trying not to cry.

He took a step back, completely disoriented when he heard that.

He sat down on my bed and ran his hand over his face, letting out a few sobs that broke my heart.

He had just realized the situation; he had just realized it was hopeless.

I stood there, watching him realize what I had just told him, and it was horrible, but at least now he knew it was over for good.

"It's okay," he said, wiping his tears and getting up. "We'll find a solution, Y/n. I'll come to see you."

"No, Chris," I said, crying.

"Yes, I'll fix it. I'll sort this out," he said, pacing back and forth.

"Chris please..." I sighed.

"I'll just set aside some money to come and see you," he continued, completely in denial.

"Chris-" I said, with a weak voice, still crying.

He lifted his head towards me and immediately came to wipe away my tears. "Don't cry, baby, it's okay, it's not a big deal."

"You have to let me go," I replied in a voice so weak that I almost doubted he heard it.

"No, Y/N, we just got together, stop saying such things," he said with a fake laugh, trying to conceal his sobs before placing his hand on my cheek.

"Chris, you have to let me go," I said, placing my hand on his cheek with a reassuring smile to show him that it would be okay.

"No," he said, letting a few tears fall. "Y/N, I'll handle this, I promise. I'll do it for us," he continued, wiping his tears and placing his other hand on my cheek. "I'll fix it."

"There's no 'us' anymore, Chris; it's over," I said.

"So what, you're going to give up at the first problem?" he said, raising his voice.

"You're just going to throw everything away just because your parents don't want you with me?" he said, getting upset.

"Y/n, fight for us, for me... for yourself," he said, desperate.

I wanted to answer him, but I had nothing left to say; it was too hard. It hurt too much to see him break his heart over me like this.

"I'm ready to fight for you, and you're giving up just to please your parents, seriously, Y/n, damn it," he said, cracking.

He placed his hands back on my cheeks, "You're not going to let your parents separate us, baby, I-," he started before I cut him off.

It was too much for me; I couldn't continue to stand there listening to him beg me to fight for him when I couldn't.

"It's over, please go now," I said, removing his hands from my face.

"You don't mean it, Y/n; you can't even say it properly. You don't want it to end; I told you we'd find a solution," he said, getting frustrated.

I closed my eyes before taking a deep breath; I felt like I was suffocating.

"Y/n, if you want me to leave, look me in the eyes and tell me clearly," he said, clenching his jaw.

I opened my eyes and tried with all my might to hold back my tears.

I tried to contain all my pain; it was so unfair. Why didn't he just let me go? Why did he have to ask me to fight? Why did he keep pushing me to keep hope?

I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice; I had to tear the bandage off at once if I wanted Chris to be happy one day without me.

"Chris, it's over; I want us to separate i don’t love you anymore. This relationship is doomed to fail; go, please," I said in a harsh tone without looking away from him.

And I could almost hear his heart shatter in his chest.

I was dying to tell him that I didn't mean a word of it, but I didn't have the right to condemn him in this relationship.

He turned around and started walking towards my window, and before leaving, he looked at me one last time, his eyes shining with tears.

He was waiting for me to stop him, to grab him by the shirt and kiss him like the first night he climbed through that window.

He was waiting for me to crack like all the other times and tell him everything would be okay.

But this time, it wasn't the case, and when he realized that, he went through my window and left.

I collapsed on the floor; I had just put an end to the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me.

I had just broken my heart and the heart of the man I love the most.

All this would never have happened if I hadn't kissed him that night.

If I hadn't let him into my room and into my heart.

I was convinced that love stories like ours never died like in books; I thought things would eventually work out, and a solution would come to us unexpectedly.

But life is a heartless bitch ready to rip your heart out when you least expect it.

The next week, I found myself packing my bags to leave Boston for good. Chris never climbed back through my window, and I deleted his number from my phone, hoping he would eventually find someone with whom he would have a happy ending.

We were just an anomaly in the system of lines that were supposed to remain parallel but ours ended up crashing into each other.

We consumed each other without knowing that this story had an expiration date, and I pay the price every day waking up far from him.

I pay the price every time I see something that reminds me of him.

A lacrosse jersey, a half-open window, a soda can—absolutely everything brought me back to him.

And I continued to search for a piece of him in every new person I met.

Even though I lost him, my love for him will never fade. Every day, I pray for my day to end quickly so I can find him every night in my dreams.

To the boy who made me realize how good love could feel.

And how painful it could be too.

Masterlist.

[hyperfixat]

hbd to me!!!!!!! here’s a vent fic i wrote a few months ago so proceed with caution; reader attempted suicide, reader continues to have suicidal thoughts/attempts, reader seeks harm onto themself (both from external sources and self inflicted), reader is depressed!!! be sure to evaluate your mental state before reading this fic :3. this also contains a scene that i felt compelled to write for some reason involving assisted hygiene: idk i felt that needed a little acknowledgment..

ik its my birthday fic and it proably should be happy, but theres a bit of hurt comfort to this that i love and i polished it up to share so that hopefully u like it too.. again heed my warnings^

also final note; formatted on my pc, sprry if its funky

The first thing you feel upon waking up is disappointment.  This… you rub your face with your hands.  You can’t do anything right, you sigh.  Waking up is a clear sign of a failure as to your plans.

Although you frown as you observe your surroundings, this isn’t where you would be if someone had caught you attempting to take your life.  You wouldn’t be dumped in the middle of a sunny field.  This isn’t a hospital or ward, in fact there’s no sign of any modern buildings from where you sit.

Just where are you…?

You use shaky arms to lift yourself up, and begin to attempt to find a way home.  Or for something to just kill you.

What luck, you realize morbidly, you spawned on a plateau, and that’s all you allow yourself to think before breaking into a sprint and running both to and over the edge.

You hit the plains with a crack and you wheeze out a pained groan.  Before you can lift yourself up to try again or seek help or check for any witnesses, you feel your body fade away. It’s a weightless feeling as you sink into the earth of Teyvat.

There is not much pain, not as much as you had hoped or expected.  In ways this is a pro, for you are a coward in the face of pain no matter deserved or otherwise.

You fade, but not into the hold of death, at least you don’t think this is death, rather you fade from your spot crumpled on the ground into a sitting position firmly in the arms of an Anemo Statue of Seven.  The marble orb of Barbatos’ lookalike stops you from falling out of the statue’s arms and you heave a sigh.

How unfortunate.  It seems you cannot permanently die here.  Though… what if it was a fluke…?  With another bone deep sigh you fall to the ground and walk back to the ledge and stare down at the fifty foot drop.

Before you work up the courage to take the plunge a high, excited voice calls out for you.  You flinch, opening your eyes to see a youthful bard dressed in Mondstatian green, holding his hands out for you.  Venti is sprinting towards you and you take a step back nervously.  He seems to recognize you… but how could that be?  

His face falls as you back away and his sprint slows when he’s a few yards away from being able to reach out to you.  Venti calls your name again.  He falters, the smile adorning his face slips.

“Wait…” his voice wavers.  “What are you doing, Divine One?”

Why did he call you that…?  Is it some Mondstat greeting of sorts?  You can’t kill yourself in front of him and retraumatize the poor guy, so you allow him to get closer to you, and you don’t stop him when he sweeps his lythe form down into a kneeling bow.

“Hello.”  You greet, unsure of how one is supposed to act when approached by a fictional character.

Venti lifts his gaze from the ground up to your face, looking downright awestruck.

“I, we, have long awaited your descent, Divine One, it is an honor to have you grace the lands of Freedom with your presence first.”  

Uh-oh.  He seems to have confused you with someone else, because you are certainly no one special and definitely not any sort of divine.  How are you gonna break that to him without too much embarrassment on either of your parts?

“Please, come with me to the city, I’m certain the people will be delighted to host the one who shaped the world.”  His voice is high with a musical lilt, and it’s hard to decline him.

“I’m sorry,” your voice comes out dry, and you realize you’re terribly dehydrated.  “I think there’s been a mistake.  I’m not whoever you think I am.”

You take a step back, backing yourself up the hill onto higher ground.

“Whatever do you mean, Divine One?  Your presence is unmistakable.”

You shake your head, stepping further away from the Archon.  Venti reaches his hand out to grasp at the bottom hem of your pajama pants.  “Please!  I’ve waited so long for you.”  He falls onto his knees to beg.

Fuck, his eyes are so pretty when he pleads.  You don’t want to risk angering whatever God he’s mistaking you with, though, “Venti….”  

The blue-green sky of his eyes turns to the color of the ocean as tears well up in his waterline.  His whole body shivers when you utter his chosen name.  “I can keep it a secret from the public.  Surely only Archons and those blessed with a Vision will be able to sense you.  We can keep it quiet, please, Divine One, I beg of you.”

“I’m not this Divine One you speak of,” you kneel and place a hand on his hat.  Venti’s eyes search yours with confusion. As he lifts his head, your hand presses into the curve of his skull, making him lean harder into your touch.

“Th-That’s okay, please just stay in Mondstadt for a night, that’s all I wish.”  He doesn’t believe you, that’s clear, but he seems so eager to appease you.

You pause, looking away from the pathetically begging archon.  His hands clench on your pant fabric.

“Okay.  Just for the night.”  You hope no one else from Mondsat is as strange as Venti is…

“I don’t have any way to pay for this,” you smile at Diluc, placing a hand on the side of the glass to push it back across the counter.

“I wouldn’t dream of making you pay, please drink all you wish.  Let me know if it isn’t to your taste.”

“Does that apply to their guide as well, Master Diluc?”

“No.”

“A shame,” Venti sighs, taking a deep drink from his glass.

You have to hand it to Venti, he is a good guide.  He’s quick to shut down any vision holder you come across with a quick whisper in their ear, and he truly knows Mondstadt in and out.

The bell above the door jingles as it swings open, and you glance behind you in time to see Rosaria come strolling in with a timid Barbara clutching the back of her cathedral robes.  She must not visit the Angel’s Share much, seeing as the hydro-user looks around with quick, nervous eyes.  When her eyes land on you they widen comically, her small hand darting out to steady herself on Rosaria’s forearm.

—

“Farewell, my Divinity,” “Safe travels, Divine One,” and “May the wind bless your travels, Your Grace,” follow your retreating form as you make the hike to Dragonspine.  

Honestly you aren’t certain where you’re heading.  If the other nations treat you the same as Mondstadt, that's a no-go.  You won’t know unless you go, though.  Maybe you should head the same route the Traveler would.  That would mean Dragonspine is your next destination.  

Who will you meet there?  Albedo…?  He’s the only one you can think of that stays there.

As you begin the trek you realize; he’s a research-type dude, you hesitate to say scientist, but he does experiments and such.  Perhaps, you can make use of yourself by giving your body up to him to work on.  Surely an undying body would greatly interest the research of life?

After a surprisingly simple search you find him and present your proposition.

“Absolutely not,” Albedo dismisses you without thought.  He doesn’t even bother to spare you a look.  “That is blasphemy of the highest order, I’d suggest giving that attitude up sooner rather than later.”

You flinch back at the words, taking a step back into the chill of Dragonspine.

“I can offer you sanctuary here if you seek it, but I will not harm you.”  

“That’s…” not at all what you want.  “That’s very kind of you to offer, but I must decline.”

His haunting blue eyes follow you down the snowy path to Liyue.  Once you are far too away to hear, he states calmly, “safe travels.”

As you walk down the icy paths lining the gravel streets you think… Albedo had rejected you just like that.  What’s the next step?

You might as well stop by Liyue Harbor, maybe meet some characters before… before maybe heading to Sumeru?  

Ahhah! It hits you then, the harbinger introduced in Sumeru: Il Dottore.  If Albedo had reservations, then Dottore would have none.

Even still, Liyue is a harbor.  You’re sure to find a way to Snezhnaya from there.

You almost get to the docks without drawing any attention to yourself.  Almost.

Your mistake laid in the fact that you passed the Golden House, the weekly Childe Boss fight.  In your defense you didn’t actually think he’d be in there.  And it’s not like you even went in, only going up the steps and around for a detour.  

And it was a quick route until a strangled gasp came from behind you, making you spin around in alarm.  There, Tartaglia stood, with pupils nearly the size of his gray-blue eyes, staring, completely enraptured by your visage.  Your knees buckle and you make to sprint, but your body is no match for a Fatui Harbinger.

In retrospect you’re not entirely sure what drove you to run, perhaps some fight or flight instinct buried inside of you.

His long hand wraps around your forearm, tugging you to a stop, you face him, and your face must portray your panic clearly because Tartaglia’s twists into sorrowful sympathy.

“My Divinity… it is an honor to meet you in the flesh.”

“Let go.”  He does, promptly so. 

“I’m sorry, I got ahead of myself.  May I ask where you are headed, and if you are in need of company?”

“No.  Thank you, Childe.” 

His face shifts into a serious look, nodding.  “Do you need an escort to Liyue then?  Is that where you’re heading?” 

“No.  I know where I’m going, and I much prefer to go alone.” It’s not entirely false, you know where you’re headed, just not how.

“Well… be safe, okay?  I hope to see you again.”

“I will.”  The lie comes out and you cringe, because its delivery falls flat and its so obviously untrue.

“Does Mr Zhongli know you’re here?  Surely you’re here to see Morax?” He strolls to your other side, offering a hand to lead you to the city.  You ignore the hand.

“Goodbye, Tartaglia.”

“I can’t let you leave alone in good conscience…. You don’t seem well.  Let me lead you to the harbor at least.”

Since he is as unmoving as stone, you let him take you to the main city, managing to ditch him before more people can know about your presence.

The boats docked at Liyue Harbor are hopeful.  “Where is this ship headed?” you ask one of the dock workers.  They look up at your voice before glancing at the ship they’re loading up with lumber.

“Snezhnaya.” They say glancing up at the grand vessel.  “Why?  Where’re you tryna go, friend?”  

“Snezhnaya.  How much does the fare cost, one way?”

—

“News of your travels have reached Snezhnaya, Divine One.”  Dottore starts, fixing his posture from a lean on a surgical table to something more proper.  You shake your head, the weariness you’ve accumulated on your journey weighing down on you.  You’re finally where you deserve to be.

“I’m not the Divine One you speak of, Dottore.”

“Hm?  Do you think so little of my intelligence?  Your presence is unmistakable.”

“No, it’s not that.  But I’m not.  I’m just a regular person.  And I came to you for a reason.”

“Oh?  The Creator themself, seeking me out?  It’s an honor,” the doctor bows to you, smirking at you from beneath his beaklike mask.

“I need you to hurt me.”

“What?”  He pulls himself up with a startled question.  “I’m afraid I misheard you, Divine One.”

“I can’t die, Dottore.  I’m giving myself to you, you…” you heave a sigh as you explain your reasoning.  “You could make use of me.  I’m not whoever you think I am, please just take me.  I don’t care what you do to me.”

“You’re… giving yourself to me?”  

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happens to my… patients?”

“Yes, that's why I’m here.  I can’t die, I imagine I would make a good test subject.”

“Is this a test?”  Dottore seems to be speaking to himself more than anything.  He pushes away from the table and paces to the back room of the lab, muttering madly to himself as he does so.  The door swings open with a loud screeching and you catch sight of multiple mops of blue hair and masks.  

His Segments.

You can hear a conversation ongoing between all of the parts of Zandik, it seems he doesn’t want to be rash and take you in too hastily.  You can understand his (their?) hesitancy; if a god offered themselves up to you, you would surely think it was a trap.  But you aren’t a god, so it should be a no brainer for him.  How often does he get consenting test subjects?

It seems this absurd idea of you being a higher power has infiltrated Snezhnaya as well, which is… not good. Everyone is saying you’re more than what you are, you can’t be a god, you barely consider yourself a human.

An older, completely unmasked Segment sticks his head out of the door, frowning once he makes eye contact with you.  There’s gray leaking from his roots into the teal of Dottore’s hair, and visible aging lines on his face; crows feet and tension on his cheekbones.  Glowing red eyes narrow upon meeting your own, mouth pulling into a tight line.

A younger segment, smaller in size and stature, with a nearly full face mask, only showing part of his mouth.  You think that is the one that the Fandom surrounding him dubbed Webttore.  You usually see pictures of him with a wide, jagged-tooth smile, but, like his older part, he looks solemn.

You wonder just how many Segments Il Dottore has, because you can still hear an entire conversation going on without the two.

The conversation seems to be dying down, not ending without a few red eyes peeking out from behind the door at you.  It’s surreal seeing so many versions of the same person at once; the youthful ones, eyes wide, and the older ones with wrinkles built with time and age, all at the same moment in time.

Eventually though, they do seem to come to a verdict: the Omega segment, the one you met upon walking into his lab, exits, closing the door behind him with a click that resonates through the room.

His answer is a simple word.  “No.”

Your heart drops and stomach sinks at the rejection, and based on il Dottore’s reaction it must show.  “Why?” your voice is small and sounds foreign to your own ears.

“I cannot forsake the true god in such a way, whether you acknowledge it or not, you have that power.”

All the turmoil and hardships it took to get here come crashing down, the light at the end of the tunnel is rejecting you.  You hadn’t known this was something that could happen, your… your savior, the one you were looking for is telling you no.  He won’t lay a finger on you, and it’s tearing you apart.  This was the only thing that kept you from burying yourself in the deep forest of Sumeru and letting yourself rot.

“Oh.” It’s shaky and you nod, trying to take it maturely.  “I see.”  Your voice is warbling like you're on the verge of tears.  Blinking rapidly to dispel the water from your eyes, you lower your head and make to scamper out of the lab.

Dottore lets out a heavy sigh, and his leather gloves wrap around your wrist.

“Wait.”  You nervously glance up at his mask.

“You said you would ‘give yourself to me,’ no?”

Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, “yes.”  Has he suddenly changed his mind? You shouldn't get your hopes up.

“I will take you.  I doubt you will appreciate my intentions, but if I were to own you, you wouldn’t be able to complain.  After all, you will have done it to yourself.”

You don’t know what those words mean, but the stinging rejection welling up in your eyes turns to relief. “Thank you,” he doesn’t stop you from dashing to his side and wrapping your arms around his waist.  You press your face into his abdomen, letting his clothes soak up your tears.  A hesitant hand rubs over your spine, an effort to soothe you.

You pull yourself together, sucking in a deep breath of the sterile lab air.  

“Alright,” Dottore says after he deems you put together enough.  “Come.”  His hand covers your wrist, gently tugging you behind him.  You aren’t sure where he is leading you, as he takes you out of the lab.  The halls are tall and gorgeously crafted, intermittent with intricate moldings on the wall.  

It’s a small room you find yourself in, but it is infinitely better than the wilderness.  The size is comparable to an average hotel room.  Dottore instructs you to sit and stay on the bed, which you do obediently.  Nerves swirl inside of you, as to where he has gone and what he will bring back with - when he will return, if at all.

Il Dottore knows.  While he is not well versed on human, much less godly, psychology, he can tell you’re depressed when you first stumbled your way into his workstation. Besides, he’d be hard pressed to deny the rumors from various agents that had been located in places you’d traveled through.

With a small caddy in his hands Dottore kneels next to the nightstand and places a hand on your shoulder to force you to lay down.  “Arm.”  Is what he prompts for you to let him maneuver your arm to lay open and flat over the edge of the bed. 

The scent of alcohol alerts you to the sanitary wipe before you feel the chill of it.  You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling as you feel the slight pinch of a needle  and a clicking as an IV is deposited into your arm.  Out of the corner of your eye you see Dottore set up a drip, but you don’t bother to ask what it is, the excitement of the day catching up with you.

Il Dottore eventually leaves the room in silence after pushing an odd vial of liquid into the drip, not bothering to look behind him as he closes the door and leaves with confident strides.

Although it’s entirely possible it’s simply the Placebo Effect, as the drip spreads throughout your veins you can feel your eyes getting heavier and heavier.  Before long you can no longer keep them open and slip into a dreamless sleep.

You wake up to a Mirror Maiden tidying up the nightstand next to you.  You observe her work, wondering how she can manage to navigate with the blind pulled over her eyes.  She startles when she catches your eyes on her, though returns back to work, quietly disposing of the used needles from earlier.  You wonder what The Doctor has injected you with; wonder if he added more of whatever it is while you were unconscious.

There’s a brisk, impatient knock on the door and the Maiden straightens up, taking hold of everything to discard and striding over to change positions with Tartaglia behind the door.

You stay flat on your back, looking at the ginger in mild surprise.  Last you saw him he was in Liyue and set to stay for quite a while.  Had he heard you gave yourself away to Il Dottore?   Is he here to plead for you to change your mind?

But to your bemusement he stays quiet, walking over to and kneeling next to your bed.  Instead of speaking he merely rests his head on the nightstand, dull blue eyes gazing at you sadly, yet reverently.

You’re unsure of how long you look up at the ceiling, doing your best to ignore Tartaglia’s eyes on you.  His gaze is unwavering, and eventually, you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry for my behavior in Liyue.  I was too excited to see you, and my manners deserted me.”

“It’s okay.” You croak, throat dry from sleep.  “I was dismissive as well.”

Dottore doesn’t bother to knock when he comes in.

“I see you’re awake and seem to have found a stray harbinger.”

Tartaglia doesn’t react to his entrance, merely moving to the far end of the bed, laying his head on the covers near your feet.  You realize someone has drapped a plain, solid color duvet over your body when you slept. 

“Are you feeling anything out of the ordinary?” Dottore asks, checking the emptied IV bag.  He unclips it and pulls a fresh one from his lab coat pocket.

You take the moment to assess (how do you spell it) your body.  In all honesty you’re feeling much better, the hydration from the drip really made a difference.

“I feel hydrated.”

Dottore hums, he sounds disinterested.  “How’s your appetite? Can you stomach anything for me?”  He clips a new bag onto the pole, screwing it into your IV’s tube. “Stand if you can.” 

Dottore’s eyes watch you intensely behind his mask, observing how you tremble when you put a leg onto the floor.  “Childe, help them and follow me.”

Tartaglia scrambles to steady your arm as you fully get out of the bed, wrapping the one without the needle in it around his shoulder to support you.  You stiffen, but aren’t in any position to be able to get around without him, not with the emptiness of your stomach and the way black fades into your vision when you stand.  “Get them to the restroom, take care of their needs.  I will return with what they will eat.”

“Come on, I got you,” Tartaglia assures as he leads you to the ensuite restroom. It’s nothing too fancy; simply a sink, shower, and toilet.

You eye the toilet, realizing how long it’s been since you’ve relieved yourself.  A shower would also be nice…

“Allow me to assist you, Divine One,” Tartaglia remains stoic and respectful as he shimmies your pants and underwear down your legs, letting you support yourself on his broad shoulders as you step out of the pant holes.  After making sure you get to the toilet safely he turns around and starts the shower faucet.

The sound of the water helps you get over your pee shyness and by the time Tartaglia finishes soaking and preparing a cloth for you, you’ve finished and are ready to bathe.

With weak arms you gather the hem of your shirt in your hands and remove the remainder of your clothes.

Tartaglia helps you get clean with warm, respectful touches, passing you the cloth for you to clean more intimate areas, before helping you out of the shower and wrapping a large, soft towel around your body.  It’s huge, covering the top of your bust to well past mid-calf, looping around your body almost twice.  He tucks the towel tightly with practiced precision. 

“Il Dottore will be back soon, I’ll help you get dressed before he returns.  Do you have any material preferences?”

—

You sit up in bed, feeling marginally better than the day before.  The day after that, and the day after that all proceed in a similar fashion; each time you feel just a little bit better.  More clear headed, a better appetite, less like a corpse walking.

Only after Dottore deems you well enough to remove the IV do you get your suspicions that it was more than just the proper nutrition making you feel better.  He still stops by your room twice a day for some shots; he encouraged you to choose where he would deposit them (when you said into your brain or through your chest, it did not amuse him).  It feels suspiciously like the antidepressants you’ve been on before.  

It only further confuses you, though.  Does he want you in a proper state of mind for something?  He has no reason other than unfounded faith to help you, you don’t like it.  It’s … uncomfortable receiving this type of care, knowing it’s only because they think you're better than who you really are.

The food they feed you, the clothes they dress you in, it's all much more than you deserve.

“What are you doing to me?”

“Pardon?” Dottore sets the syringe down with a metallic click.  Through his mask you can feel his gaze on you.

“You’re… you’re trying to— to…” the words fail you.

“Mitigate your depressive symptoms?  Yes, I am.  What of it?”  Il Dottore picks the syringe back up, pushing the knob back before stabbing it into the vial in his hand. He pulls the liquid up with ease before removing the needle and pushing to remove the excess air in the syringe.

“Why?”

“Hm?  Why would I not?”  He flicks the syringe and some liquid flies from the point of the needle.

“If I were anyone else you wouldn’t be doing this.”

“Indeed.”

“Haven’t you realized by now that I’m not who you think I am?  That I’m just a normal human in a horrible situation of being unable to die?”

“That is not so.  Your skin cultures and biopsy results do not share that conclusion.  Even if you continue to deny your god-hood, it changes nothing. I know for certain who you are, and you will remain in my care until you utilize your divine right to revoke such.”

Biopsy? When on Earth — Teyvat? — did that happen?  But there’s more important things to discuss with him for now, not that you care how or when it happened.  You’re more surprised you never noticed, that’s all.

“You’re wrong!”  You wail, tears finally coming for the first time in a while.  You had thrown your head back to speak, but now you collapse in on yourself with your head between your arms and legs.  It’s humid, but saves you from having to look at the doctor and his unreadable bird mask.

“Oh my,” you hear Dottore murmur, then he sets his medical supplies to the side and places a hand on your shoulder. He remains there while you sob, when finally the lack of speech seems to reach the boiling point, he heaves a sigh.  “If it is of any consolation, if it were to come to my attention that you are not in any way godly or divine, I would treat you the same.  I’ve put far too much care into you to just toss you aside..”

That consoles you, if only a little, damn the drugs making you want to continue life to see the future.   But you broke the dam of tears, and it’ll take a while for them to stop; you need to cry out everything that led you here….

Your… attempt that put you in Teyvat, the one you tried right after arrival, the false death, all the eyes and praise that aren’t meant for you.  It’s dysphoric.  

The lurches of your body with your cries, stitches your sides and you sniffle harder into the crevice your body makes, the moisture of the confined body space blending in with your tears.

“There now,” Dottore says, quieter as you get so as well.  “Perhaps some more rest will do you good.  I’ll be at the ready whenever you wake.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

Remember Me? (Part 12)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.

But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.

Except for a very adorable reminder of him.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: heh

thats all i got to say lol

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n rose her eyebrows at Eris, waiting for him to begin speaking.

Sometime ago, a servant working in the Autumn Court's palace had informed Y/n that Eris was looking for her, and Y/n had rushed to meet him. Now she stood facing him, just like that night a month ago, the gentle evening breeze curling in the air, making the leaves outside the large window rustle softly.

It also didn't go unnoticed by Y/n that this was the same window that she and Eris had stood in front of that night Feyre had arrived in autumn court.

"You know how each year we have a high lord's meeting since the war with Hybern?"

Y/n nodded. It had become common knowledge that to prevent any more disputes between the courts, the High lords had decided to meet every year.

"This year Autumn is supposed to host the meeting, and the meeting is in a week's time."

Y/n blinked. "And?"

He rose a brow. "All the court's officials will be present."

Dread spread through Y/n when she realised. "Is Rhys going to be there too?"

His eyes flared with something like rage before his expression smoothed out. "No, because I have barred him from the court, but some of the members of his inner circle will be present."

Y/n heaved a sigh of relief. "And why are you telling me this?"

"So you can warn Feyre of it. The members are going to question if they find Nyx running around the corridors. Tamlin is also going to be present, and I don't know if you know of their history, but it was a messy situation she left him in."

Y/n nodded. "I'll let her know. Anything else?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes travelling leisurely to her feet and back to her eyes, making her heart start racing when he stepped forward

Only when she could feel his breath on her face did he stop advancing and speak, and Y/n ignored the urge to take a step back.

"One thing. Keep that bastard's name out of your mouth."

Y/n suppressed a shiver, instead lifting her chin and meeting his gaze head on.

"And what if I don't?"

"He will find himself incinerated." He murmured, the embers of a fire beginning to form in his eyes.

"Who do you think you are to tell me whose name to keep out of my mouth?" Y/n had no problem in not speaking her former lover's name, but an opportunity to get Eris riled up was too good to pass up.

There was an inferno raging in his eyes as he pushed the words out with gritted teeth.

"No one."

Though Y/n was disappointed, she wondered why she even expected a different answer.

"I will speak whomever's name I wish, then."

He looked away, his jaw clenched.

A muscle began feathering in his jaw, and Y/n blamed what she did next all on her distracted mind, but she reached up, gently running her fingers on that muscle in his jaw.

He stiffened instantly, and despite wanting to pull back her hand, her mind wouldn't let her.

He turned his head to her again, a different type of fire in his eyes now.

His eyes dropped to her lips, and Y/n held still as he leaned closer.

The air between them changed, becoming charged. Y/n waited with baited breath, not daring to take in necessary air in fear it would prompt him to turn away.

His hot breath washed over her face, and her eyes fluttered closed. Anticipation coursing through her very veins alongside her blood, she waited for that first caress of his lips.

Only it never came.

What did come, though, was the sound of screaming children, and Y/n and Eris barely had any time to jump apart before the kids came into view.

Y/n sighed, caressing the wall, pretending that she hadn't been about to kiss the high lord.

When the pattering feet came closer, she turned, flashing the little kids a dazzling smile as they came to a stop next to her feet.

"Auntie Y/n! Do you want to play with us?" Nyx asked, his eyes glittering.

There was obviously nothing else Y/n had to do, she agreed. Especially with what almost happened occupying her mind, she was sure she would not be able to focus on anything.

"Come, we have a few hours before dinner time, so we can play."

The children grabbed her hands, beginning to drag her away.

Y/n felt eyes on her all the way until she turned a corner and disappeared from his view, which did nothing to cool the warmth on her skin.

Feyre spoke up when she caught up to the Fin and Nyx, who were debating on what to play while Y/n watched.

"How about we play hide and seek?"

Y/n knew Feyre had questions, and so she didn't argue when she decided that Y/n and She would seek the kids.

"Y/n?" Feyre said as soon as the kids were out of earshot.

"Yes?"

"We need to talk."

Y/n sighed, nodding.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Eris Taglist: @kennedy-brooke@hnyclover@minnieoo@sidrapotter

Remember me Taglist: @holb32 @awoa1 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @luvmoo @we-were-beautiful @eerievixen @zoe2 @fussel9913 @j-pendragonx @thesnugglingduck @jesssicapaniagua @devilsnightz @esposadomd @littleffawn @mandowhatnow @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @princesslolaasworld @asemkta @cat-or-kitten @txzii @bunnyredgirl @theofficialmadman @leeknows-wife @aria-chikage @amygdtjhddzvb @azriels-mate123 @inky-clover @kemillyfreitas @12358 @justdreamstars @cuethedepession @princessvesta @fides25 @nocasdatsgay @acourtofbatboydreams @stained-glass-eyes0708 @glaciuswduo @wallacewillow0773638 @cassie6392 @quackitysdrugdealer @txzii @anuttellaa @coisas-da-dani @hnyclover @sassyslytherinshai @historygeekqueen @why4anne

[eddiesxangel]

Hellooo today is my birthday, sooo since im alone and nobody came to wish me a happy birthday,cab you do one where Eddie is the only one that remembers reader birthday and decides to reunite the whole Hellfire club to give a party that reader (us) deserve 🌹🌹🥳😘🥰

OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART 🩷🫂 ( I hope I can help with the birthday blues 🥺) my birthday is also this month, Gemini twin! ♊️ 👯‍♀️

Sometimes, you dread today because the impending disappointment is always there... Did you expect everyone to wish you a happy birthday? No. But you still want at least one person to acknowledge your day, especially your best friend.

Yet, here we are, 3:00pm and still not a call or mention of anything remotely birthday related.

You impatiently watched the clock that hung on the wall of Family Video tick, watching the minutes pass so slowly. It was dead, but what did you expect? It's three in the afternoon on a Wednesday, and not many people come in on weekdays to be in with... Until you see a familiar metalhead bopping past the large window and through the door, making his grand entrance.

"Sorry, I'm late, sweetheart." He schmoozed as we walked towards you at the checkout counter.

"It only took you long enough," you rolled your eyes, suppressing the feeling of our heart fluttering; maybe he remembered after all.

"Come on, what kind of best friend would I be if I didn't at least apologize for returning this fantastic movie six days late?" he smirked as he leaned an elbow on the counter.

There it was, the inevitable disappointment. He had forgotten.

With a heavy sigh, you take the slasher film from his grasp and think for a split second about not waving the late fee.

"This was supposed to be in on May 30th... It's now the fifth." You deadpan, hoping maybe something clicks.

"I know that sweetheart, but now I have an excuse to see my best friend at work on her birthday." He smiles knowingly.

The breath you didn't know you were holding gets released, and you cannot help but smile.

"You didn't think I had forgotten?!" Eddie steps back dramatically while metaphorically clutching his pearls.

"Well, since you're the first one to acknowledge my birthday and it's..." you look at the clock you've been watching all shift. "3:49pm. Yea, I didn't think anyone would have remembered." You look down, playing with your nails.

"What do you mean the first to acknowledge your birthday?"

"Exactly that," you shrugged.

" You mean like no one has said happy birthday yet?" He raised a curious brow. " Not Dustin, Mike, Max, Erica?" He could go on bit you cut him off by shaking your head no.

"Well, I am sure glad I got to be the first." He smiles, and you can't help but smile back. Eddie has always been a good friend. Ever since you met in high school when you became a part of the Hellfire club, you've been inseparable ever since.

The back door opens, catching both your and Eddie's attention, and Steve walks out, chewing on a half-eaten sandwich.

"Sup, Munson," He mumbles.

"Come in to wish y/n here a Happy Birthday," he emphasized, and you could not help but roll your eyes.

"Today is your birthday?!" He almost choked on his food. " Why didn't you say something!?"

"It's not a big deal."

"It is! and it makes me look like a total ass."

"Steve, stop. You're not an ass... Doofus, maybe, but not an ass." You giggle.

"I'll give you that because it's your birthday. Happy Birthday"

"Thanks, Stevie"

"So, any big plans? He asks, looking at you, then to Eddie, then back at you.

"Umm, no, not really."

"Yes"

You and Eddie say in unison, and you look at your friend quizzically.

" Don't make any plans for Saturday night, okay?" he taps the counter before taking off.

"Okay? Bye?" You wave after him, confused as ever.

"He's so weird." Steve looks to you.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

*

The rest of the week was average and went by quickly. The only thing Eddie told you was that you were expected to come to his apartment at 7:30 p.m. Which you did.

You knocked on the door and heard Eddie shushing people from the other side. With a huge grin on his face, he leads you into the apartment, and then around the corner, you're ambushed by your friends yelling, "Surprise!"

"Oh my god, what is this?!" you smile, this was very unexpected. Everyone was in their old Hellfire shifts and stood around a table that had been set up for a game of DND with some gifts beside it on the floor.

"We are celebrating your birthday." Eddie nudges your shoulder.

Tears threaten to form as you take in the sweet gesture Eddie set up for you.

"You did this from me?" You try not to sniffle but fail.

"Of course he did!" Dustin pipes in.

"Happy Birthday," Mike smiles. and the rest follow suit.

"Please tell me you didn't get me presents." You notice the gift bags sitting beside the table.

"Of course we did! What kind of friends would we be?"

"One's who forgot her actual birthday until I reminded them," Eddie sneered.

"It 's okay, we are all here now together; thank you guys, this means the world." And it did. Nothing meant more to you than spending time with the people you loved, playing a game you all love, and having fun.

It had been so long since the last Hellfire meeting, and you were so happy they could all make time from their busy lives to spend it with you.

"Ok, let's eat and then play!" Eddie turns to the kitchen, and you follow.

"Thank you, Eddie. I don't know how else I can show you how grateful I am for you."

"No need to thank me, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He leans in and gives you a wet kiss on the cheek, making that the second time this week Eddie's made your heart flutter.

[lili-harg]

• FAKE GIRLFRIEND •

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• Gojo Satoru x Reader

It was a sunny Friday morning on the Jujutsu high school campus, where the four friends were on their break happily chatting about different youth topics.

Everything seemed to be going completely normal until the young y/h notices her close friend Satoru somewhat distracted and not with his smiling and joking personality.

Clearly noticing that lack of spark in his best friend, he decided to gently ask.

-"Gojo, what has you so distracted this morning? Usually you would have already made at least 3 different jokes" And the young woman was not lying, it was normal to see Gojo joke or chatter about something or simply laugh loudly, so finding him in That state was very strange.

After y/n had asked that question, Geto nodded agreeing with the young woman and said

- "It's true, what's happening with you?"

Gojo, who was absorbed in his thoughts moments ago, now faced the expectant gaze of his friends.

Scratching his hair nervously, he understands that it is time to declare what has kept him so silent.

-"You see, it's something about my father, he said something so stupid - he says trying to control his bad mood as he remembers - "he said I should take my girlfriend to my family's celebration this weekend"

As soon as you heard Gojo and girlfriend in the same sentence you feel a little disappointed, since you always felt something for your best friend, the white-haired one, but you never did anything to confess it, because everyone knew about the reputation of a womanizer that he has and you didn't want to ruin the friendship you've had since They were kids.

Shoko noticing your small disappointment (she was the only one to whom you had confessed your feelings for the young man of the Gojo clan) decides to ask to lighten the situation.

-"We could have the honor of knowing who the unfortunate one is, who is "Does your girlfriend call? Because as far as I know you've never had a girlfriend and the one that lasted a day and a half doesn't count" the young woman accused with a smile on her face.

At this question you and Suguru smile in attendance, although your smile was incomparable to that of Geto who was ready to laugh at the situation.

Gojo scratches his hair again more nervously and avoids your gaze

- "Well there's the problem (he sighs ready to give his statement) he thinks that you and I are a couple"

The black-haired man and the brunette burst out laughing but instead you You are completely reflected, on the one side you felt happy because you always wanted to have a relationship with the young man, but on the other sidd you are scared that the mere thought of being in a relationship with you is what has Gojo so disappointed.

So without thinking much you ask the white haired boy.

-"And what did you say to your father?" If you analyzed it a little, you would notice the desperation in your tone.

The three young people were waiting for the sky-blue eye's response.

-"I told him if I would take you to the party this weekend," he says, already showing his smile.

-"WHAT!? Did you go crazy Satoru? Are you lying to your father" and you couldn't blame his father since you and Gojo were inseparable and several times they have confused you with being a couple, but this time it was different, very different.

-"Don't worry, y/n, we just have to pretend that we are a couple for this weekend and everything will be fine," said the white-haired man, trying to reassure you. He is the same again, downplaying the matter, you respond

- "But it's totally different, plus it was just once to get those free sweets on Valentine's Day!!"

Shoko and Geto only exchanged funny and expectant glances because they both knew things and understood where this whole thing would lead.

-"Pleeaase Y/n just for this weekend" Gojo said in a pleading tone.

You decided that you would ignore your feelings, although that would cost you dearly later, or at least that's what you thought, and you would help your friend this time.

You sigh exhausted and nod saying

- "It's okay Toru, you win"

The white-haired boy smiles and jumps to hug you, which caught you quite off guard and a small blush that you tried to hide appeared on your face.

"Then get ready because tomorrow at eight pm I will have to pick you up to go to the party"

You nod and when you were going to answer the bell rings indicating that they should go back to class, the two sorcerers get up and say goodbye, leaving them alone.

Shoko, who notices your sadness no matter how much you try to hide it, says

- "Everything will be fine Y/n, it's just a party and maybe you won't even meet his father, you already know what their relationship is like"

if you knew that and that wasn't it. What worries you so much, but that you didn't want to hurt yourself by playing with your feelings, you felt like you were deceiving yourself.

You sigh and nod

- "It's just a party, what could go wrong?"

You clearly had no idea what that Saturday night would bring you.

[daitranscripts]

Solas Cutscene: High Approval

Before the Anchor

Solas Masterpost

Solas: Inquisitor, I was… do you have a moment?

Solas leads the PC to the balcony of their quarters.

Solas: What were you like before the Anchor?

The PC looks at their hand.

Solas: Has it affected you? Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your… spirit?

Dialogue options:

General: No, not really. [1]

General: How should I know? [2]

General: Get to the point. [3]

1 - General: No, not really. PC: I don’t believe so. Solas: Ah. PC: Why do you ask?

2 - General: How should I know? PC: If it had, do you really think I’d have noticed? Solas: No. That’s an excellent point. PC: Why do you ask?

3 - General: Get to the point. PC: What do you think is going on here?

4 - Scene continues.

Solas: You show a wisdom I have not seen since… since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade. You are not what I expected.

Dialogue options:

General: I’m just like everyone else. [5] -Solas slightly disapproves

General: You make that sound bad. [6]

General: What did you expect? [7]

5 - General: I’m just like everyone else. PC: I don’t think of myself as different from anyone. Solas: Perhaps not in the form of your body, no. [8]

6 - General: You make that sound bad. PC: Sorry to disappoint. Solas: It’s not disappointing, it’s… (Sighs.) Most people are predictable. [8]

7 - General: What did you expect? PC: What have I done that’s so surprising? [8]

8 - Choice dependent dialogue:

Dalish PC [9]

Dwarf/Qunari/human PC [10]

9 - Dalish PC Solas: You have shown subtlety in your actions, a wisdom that goes against everything I expected. If the Dalish could raise someone with a spirit like yours… have I misjudged them?

Dialogue options:

General: Yes. [11]

General: Honestly, not really. [12]

General: No. I am who I am. [13] +Solas slightly approves

10 - General: Yes. PC: I don’t hold the Dalish up as perfect, but we have something worth honoring. A memory of the ancient ways. [14]

11 - General: Honestly, not really. PC: Most of the Dalish care more about impressing other hunters with a good shot or talking about how awful humans are. There are only a few who seem to care about the old ways. [14]

12 - General: No. I am who I am. PC: The Dalish didn’t make me like this. The decisions were mine. Solas: Yes, you are wise to give yourself that due. Although the Dalish, in their fashion, may still have guided you. [14]

14 - Scene continues.

Solas: Perhaps that is it. I suppose it must be. Most people act with so little understanding of the world. But not you. [18]

10 - Dwarf/Qunari/human PC

dwarf PC Solas: Dwarves are practical. They do not dream. The cannot even imagine a world beyond the physical. But you have shown subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I know of your people.

Qunari PC Solas: Qunari are savage creatures, their ferocity held in check only by the rigid teachings of the Qun. But you have shown subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I know of your people.

human PC Solas: Humans are shortsighted, brutish. Blind to the beauty of the Fade, their minds cast in a duality of black and white. But you have shown subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I know of your people.

Dialogue options:

General: What about our friends? [15] General: I try. [16] General: You were misinformed. [17]

14 - General: What about our friends? PC: I’m just one part of this team, Solas. What about Cassandra or Leliana? Solas: Cassandra separates matters of faith from those of the world, and she above all should understand how limited that is. Leliana has a brilliant mind, but her faith was damaged. To her, it is all a game of tactics now. But not you. [18]

15 - General: I try. PC: I do what I can. Solas: You are modest. So many would use this Inquisition as a blunt instrument in their rise to power. But not you. [18]

16 - General: You were misinformed. PC: It seems everything you’ve been taught by your people has some holes in it. Solas: I have seen enough of the world to know I was not misinformed. Most people are small… petty. But not you. [18]

18 - Scene continues.

PC: So what does this mean, Solas?

non-romanced Solas: It means that I respect you deeply, Inquisitor. And I have disturbed you enough for one evening. Solas leaves. Scene ends.

romanced Solas: It means I have not forgotten the kiss.

Dialogue options:

End relationship: Let it go, Solas. [19]

Flirt: Neither have I. [20]

19 - End relationship: Let it go, Solas. PC: Perhaps you should. Solas: Perhaps you’re right. I will always respect you, Inquisitor. Solas leaves. Scene ends.

20 - Flirt: Neither have I. PC: Good. The PC moves closer, and Solas goes to leave. PC: Don’t go. The PC grabs his arm. Solas: It would be kinder in the long run. But losing you would… He turns, and they kiss. Solas: Ar lath ma, vhenan. Solas leaves, and the PC leans against the doorway. Scene ends.

[xelasrecords]

Tea! Would You Like Some?

Han Jumin x Reader

Jumin Week 2023 - Day 3: Quality Time @juminweek2019

High-quality time shared between two people highly stupid about their feelings. And for each other.

My x reader comeback after so long! Had a meet cute recently so y'all get a lighthearted crushing stage fic for once :)

Words: 3.9k

Masterlist Read on AO3

How soon you could come had no correlation to Jumin's expectation of seeing you materialise in his living room. At least, that was what he told himself. His traitorous fingers told a different thing. They had typed out a message asking where you were, if there was any problem with your ride, if you had input the correct address in your map, and if he needed to send out a search party if you didn't reply in the next five minutes, but that, he felt, would be too drastic.

Jumin erased the last part and sent the text. He sighed, fingers drumming on the arm of his white sofa. Contrary to Zen's belief, he was not one to blow things out of proportion. He always did just enough and everything else was simply a precaution.

Perhaps a five-minute grace was not precaution enough. Four minutes. He could wait for four.

The second his doorbell rang, Jumin leapt to his feet. He never considered the distance from the living room to the entrance too far, but now he doubted the interior design of his penthouse. Large spaces allowed him to breathe—until you took it away just by not reneging on your promise to visit. You were someone he had only met a handful of times, always with the other members and never at his own place.

Today was special. Today he decided to ignore his fear of being left behind by his loved ones and let you in.

You could be someone he loved. You could be the one who stayed.

Jumin composed himself and opened the door, and there you were, standing with your hands deep in your pockets, waiting for him.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you. Despite being mussed by the wind, your hair fell beautifully around your face like a divine frame that accentuated your features. Your eyes were bright, your smile was wide, and you were wrapped in a coat that must be your favourite. He never saw you without it. He wished he knew more about your fashion sense so he could gift you clothes that you would like. He also wished he was close enough to see himself in your eyes' reflection, but that time would come later. Everything had its order, and patience was a virtue that had been drilled into him since childhood.

"I have been waiting for you," said Jumin, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. "Did anything happen on your way here? You didn't reply to my text."

"I was rushing." Your smile turned apologetic. "Didn't check my phone, sorry."

Jumin stepped aside to let you in. The fact that your hand could have grazed his had you walked nearer to him did not escape his attention. "No matter. It's all right now that you're here."

Leading you to the white plush sofa where he had waited with perfect calmness, he felt tense and oddly exposed, like he was anticipating a foreboding that might come to pass. He did not feel like Han Jumin. This was an iteration of him that he had not been acquainted with.

"Did I make you wait too long?" you asked.

"No," Jumin said. "You didn't have to hurry. You were not yet late." He hoped the sofa would be good enough for you. He had asked his housekeeper to clean off every speck of dust he could detect, twice over.

You sat down and stared at him with a look that he couldn't discern. "I wanted to be early."

Jumin took a seat beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance despite his heart's protest. "You possess an excellent sense of time management. We will get along well." Compliments flowed out of him easily when it came to you. If you let him, he would graciously point out your strengths one by one.

But was that disappointment on your face?—though it disappeared before he could probe further. "Yes, I love time and managing stuff." You sighed. "That's why I'm the assigned party coordinator."

Now that you were at the spot where he had cast secret spells to summon you, Jumin wasn't sure what to say. He was desperate to know if you shared his jitters. You were motionless, spine straight and hands clasped on your lap, studiously watching the black television screen. There was nothing save for the blurred reflection of both of you sitting in a similar position. He had been imagining all sorts of exciting conversations with you, but your presence had flung them out of his head. This had never happened before. An MRI scan was in order after you went home.

It was possible that you were growing bored, though your affable expression had not indicated so. But it might not mean anything, for you always seemed pleasant. You were very, very pleasant to look at. It was also possible that he was the only one with an insatiable curiosity towards you. For all he knew, you could be with a partner and merely accepted his invitation to hang out with him as a newly anointed member of the RFA. And you were a member. This was a friendly meet-up, nothing more.

"Tea," said Jumin suddenly. His voice echoed in the silence.

Startled, your head snapped to him. "What?"

"Everyone in my family learns to brew tea," Jumin explained. "The tea leaves in my pantry are directly imported from China, obtained from the only six three-hundred-year-old Wuyi trees in existence. The legend of this tea can be traced back to the age of emperors and dynasties, and it has become extraordinarily rare over time. It has the best quality in the world."

"How did you get it if it's so rare?" You were trying to hold a smile back, but it was not a mocking sneer. There was a certain fondness in it that made him want to let all his guard down and pull you into his arms.

"Auctions," Jumin simply said. "You ought to try it. It will keep you warm." Only then he noticed that you still had your coat on and was promptly filled with horror. "My apologies. I seem to have lost my manners." He outstretched his arm. "Leave your coat with me. It can't have been comfortable sitting in that."

"Shame." You handed it over. "I was planning to take a nap in this."

"Is that how people normally sleep? Or is it a tradition unique to you?" Jumin folded your coat into a perfect half over his forearm. "I'd appreciate it if you could teach me your ways."

"I was joking, Jumin. Should I teach you how to make one?" you said, in a tone so kind that he was taken aback. People tended to laugh at his face or look away politely when he failed to understand a joke.

"There is no need. I already have a handbook for it." Jumin was unable to keep smugness out of his voice. "It includes a list of one hundred jokes that you can make to both family and work colleagues alike. I have made good use of it when I need to break the ice."

"But does it include learning how to take one?"

"Unfortunately, I have yet to encounter a book for it."

You squeezed his shoulder, and the warmth of your touch penetrated all layers of his clothing that he had carefully planned. Navy blue suit, black tie, complete with a beige waistcoat and white striped shirt. Everything was new. "Don't worry," you said. "It just means the joke isn't funny to you. A good joke will make you laugh naturally."

"I see." Jumin fixed his tie. "I promise to laugh at your next joke."

"I said naturally. Honestly, Jumin. Please don't plan for it. You're going to give me performance anxiety."

"Then I look forward to your performance." He smirked, and you groaned. Something about you brought out the childlike side in him that he didn't know was still alive. "If you would wait here for a moment. I shall brew you a cup of tea. It won't be long."

Without waiting for your response, Jumin stood up, hung your coat on the silver coat rack by the hallway, and headed to the kitchen. Something was wrong with him. A smile kept threatening to break out of his face and there was a palpable beating in his throat when it should stay underneath his ribcage and he felt giddy about something. He was sure that this was abnormal. Was he finally living up to Zen's senseless claim that he was a strange creature? Jumin stowed these additional symptoms away for his next doctor's appointment. Forget MRI, he needed a full-body checkup.

Jumin heard a soft padding behind him as he turned on the kettle. Your footsteps were quiet, almost drowned by the gurgling of the boiling water and it reminded him of the elegance of Elizabeth the Third. He'd introduce you to her when she decided to make an appearance. The thought of the two of you getting along put a smile on his face.

"I thought you would've offered me wine before tea. Are you really Jumin?" you teased, peering from behind him. He was scooping oolong tea leaves into the strainer in a precise measurement when his muscles turned rigid. Your chin was nearly perched on his shoulder. He regretted that you didn't.

But Jumin dearly wished he knew either. He paused and looked over at you. Now he could see himself in your mischievous eyes. Now he saw how happy he was. The opportunity came sooner than he was prepared for. His breath hitched. "Would you like some wine instead?" he asked, keeping his gaze steady. "I have a wide variety you can choose from in the cellar."

"Tea is fine," you said. "I'll take anything you give me, really."

"Beware," Jumin said dryly. "You have not known me long. There could be poison in your drink."

It took a second for his joke to register, but when it did, you started to laugh. Jumin was stunned, then relaxed when he realised you were not under any pretences of politeness. He felt as if he got a high score for a competition he had unknowingly participated. He never used to put high importance on winning. As someone who consistently broke his own records, achievements were just another thing that his office and father would hold a customary celebration for.

But you were different. Your laughter was a prize he wanted to win all the time. He liked seeing you in joy, and liked that he was the source of it. It was a high that he never wanted to come down from.

"Did you copy that joke from your handbook?" you asked.

"I came up with it on the spot," said Jumin proudly, and your grin widened.

Your eyes flitted to the only china cup laid out on the marble countertop. "Aren't you making another for yourself?"

Jumin shook his head. "I'm not in the mood for tea."

You lifted a brow. "I am so surprised."

Jumin's forehead furrowed in genuine confusion. "Why would you be?"

You flailed your arms about. "Is tea not your passion?" you said. "You were fired up when you talked about it. That's all you've talked about. If I didn't know you better, I'd think it's your favourite drink in the world."

"I merely wanted to keep you warm, and a cup of tea was the fastest way to do it." Actually, Jumin thought being embraced by him would be faster, but he doubted you would accept his advanced advances. "You're the one who has been on my mind, not tea."

"Not tea," you repeated.

"It's nothing compared to you," Jumin affirmed.

"Oh." You pressed your palm against your cheek. "That's nice. You're nice." You gave a perfunctory sweep at his polished monochromatic penthouse, sparse but efficiently filled with the essential household items. "Your place is also nice."

But you were looking at everywhere but him, and that didn't feel as nice. "You might be the first person calling me nice besides V," Jumin said, deciding to focus on the positive. "And V is exempted as he is my closest friend. I'm not sure how to feel about this, to be honest. I'll have to think about it later."

"Take your time," you said, finally looking at him. "I'm not going anywhere."

Quietly, Jumin poured hot water into the teacup and stirred sugar into the steaming amber liquid, allowing the clinking of the teaspoon to fill the space he couldn't. For all his desire to have his interest in you reciprocated, he could not picture the reality if you did. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to invite you into his mind, yet was frightened by the thought of you being repelled after knowing him.

"Careful, it's hot," Jumin warned as you lifted the teacup to your lips. "Tell me, how do you find it? Is it to your taste?"

You took your time sipping the tea. He suspected you did it to keep him on his toes, and had to admit that it was part of your intrigue. Jumin could never guess your next move. Anything he predicted you would prove him wrong in the most delightful way possible.

You looked up from the rim of the cup. "What if I say it isn't?"

A connoisseur in understanding your jest now, Jumin replied, "I shall melt into a puddle and lie on the floor until you give me an honest review."

"I will mop your puddle and wring it out the window."

He looked at you thoughtfully. "I'd say I'm offended, but I heard that committing murder is an expressway to one's heart."

"Sometimes even literally," you agreed.

Jumin's eyes widened. "The double meaning escaped me. You are a genius."

You set your cup down on its saucer with a delicate clink. "But is murder the only way to your heart?"

Jumin forgot the mechanism of speaking. Due to his years of experience with women whom he never spared a glance for, he could detect the act of flirting when he saw one. And you were flirting. With him. He was eighty-nine per cent sure of it. You deemed him worthy to be flirted with. Jumin almost slid down to his knees.

"No." He managed to get a full sentence out. "No," he tried again, "but you don't even have to try. Whatever you're doing, you are doing it well." Two better sentences. Magnificent.

"That's too bad," you said. Jumin noticed that your hand was still wrapped around your cup, steam unfurling on the top of it. You must still be cold. "I've been waiting to hack through your chest with an axe."

Jumin walked towards the heater controller and turned it on. "Is homicide the only thing in your mind?"

"It's more of an ad break from the thoughts of you."

At that, Jumin turned around. You had been thinking about him. He knew how impossible it was to stop thinking about you, and your admission was making him lightheaded. Did you ever dream of him and then scramble for your phone the first thing in the morning just to hear his voice? Did you ever yearn to talk about him to your friends the way he did, except his only friend was doing his habitual disappearance and the loneliness was more profound now that you were his constant excitement but he had no one to tell it to? Did you have anyone you hold dear to your heart? Were you open to considering him as one someday? It was not yet appropriate to be so upfront with his questions, he knew.

But one question should be fine. "How long have you been thinking of me?" Jumin asked.

You leaned against the counter and crossed your legs. "I talk to you every day. So, every day." He wondered if your composure was a facade, the way his was.

Jumin nodded. "We share the same habit. I can't quite recall what I used to think about before you entered our lives."

"Your darling white cat, the cat projects that generate a steady loss for your company, and some new cat-friendly inventions? Jaehee's nightmares, basically."

Jumin chuckled. "You know me well. I must say I'm surprised." It wasn't so bad to be known. He could get used to the feeling. "Assistant Kang doesn't appreciate the fine things in life. It's a pity that Elizabeth the Third is hiding somewhere right now. If you see her, you'll understand why I do all those things for her."

"You love her," you said kindly. "I understand that enough."

Jumin stared at you. You kept saying the right things and he kept falling, falling, falling.

"You've finished your tea," Jumin noted, but not without regret. He dreaded having to let you go.

You studied the empty cup. "Wow, I think I inhaled it. You were right, it was the best tea I've ever tasted. Thank you."

"I hope you will stay longer. Do you have other arrangements for the evening?" Jumin, who had arranged his whole weekend around your visit, calmly inquired.

"I don't," you said, with just as much calmness.

"My collection doesn't stop at drinks," he said. "I have a brand new record player and an array of classic vinyls. You can peruse them if you'd like. A three-star Michelin chef will be flying in to prepare dinner and you can request anything you want, provided that you do it three hours prior. There's also a gym on the second floor, though exercising is probably not the best activity since you don't bring a change of clothes." He paused. "You don't happen to bring one, do you?"

"Jumin, I—no. But I could wear yours if I so desperately need to shower here."

He thought he saw your eyes suspiciously glittered, but it was gone when you blinked. "I don't have clothes that would fit you perfectly." He frowned. "They're all tailored to my body, you see. I'm afraid you wouldn't find much comfort in them. Now, would you like to sit down? I've made you stand for too long." He guided you to the kitchen island, fingers light around your wrist, and pulled out one of the brass bar stools. "Please excuse my bad manners today. Something must have come over me. I don't tend to be like this."

You settled in your seat only to swivel back to meet his towering figure. Your knees nudged his legs, and Jumin was stunned, unmoving. He thought an attraction was supposed to burn him alive, to light him up from the inside. What he felt now was akin to petrification. It crept up on him from the ground he stood and incapacitated his ability to form coherent thoughts.

"Jumin," you enunciated his name with great care. He had never thought his name was beautiful until it lulled out of your mouth. He wanted to brand it into his memory.

"Yes," he said, because it was the only thing his mouth could form.

"Your house sounds like a treat."

"That's because it is. You can entertain yourself here. Whatever you want, I will do my best to provide it for you."

"Other guys could give me those too. There have been some, you know," you confessed, and Jumin was torn between wanting to know more about your past and quelling down the illogical jealousy it spurred. "Gold-dipped bouquets with diamonds, fancy restaurants where they ordered for me without asking about my preferences, jewellery that I wouldn't pick for myself." Your voice was tinted with slight distaste, but it was gone in the next instance. "Do you think I was swayed by them?"

Now Jumin's gaze turned sharp. This was a test, he realised. Your intention was not to compare him to other men, nor was it to flaunt how desired you were. Jumin knew the latter well without needing you to prove it to him. He felt the torrent of his desire all the time. It threatened to wash him ashore and pull him back into the raging sea, never letting him be at peace until he could be certain you wanted him back. So what would you get out of your question? Whatever your goal was, he knew what he was supposed to do. You favoured honesty, just as he did. That was one of the many things he respected about you.

"I doubt you were," Jumin said. "Your affection isn't the kind that could be bought. I may not know you intimately, but I know you would not budge under insensitive bribery, and your tale reeked of one. What they did was foul and not driven by the best intentions. That's not how you, or anyone, should be treated."

Your expression softened as you reached for his hand. "I know you're not trying to impress me with your wealth. I'm sorry if I made you think so. I meant to show you that I'd be here even without you throwing those things at me. You called me just to meet up and I came right away. If I stay back, it's because I want to spend more time with you." You averted your eyes. "Did you have to make me say all that?"

Emboldened by your hold that you hadn't let go, Jumin tilted your chin and you leaned forward by a fraction. "You enjoy my company," he said, assessing your earnest face. He could hear his racing heartbeat in his ears. "But will you stay?"

"You'd really like an encore to embarrass me," you grumbled. "Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"You phrased it as a hypothesis. I cannot be sure that staying with me is what you want unless you state it clearly," Jumin pressed. Though he was always surrounded by people, no one had ever bothered to stay. Not for long. Not for the person he was.

His fear and desperation must have shown on his face, for you let out a small breath and gently squeezed his arm, before trailing your sight to the empty cup waiting on the counter. "I think you should refill my tea," you said slowly. "I need more if we'll talk into the night, won't I?"

The warmth from your hold spread throughout his body and a smile broke through Jumin's face, his uncertainty receding. Someone as beautiful and brilliant as you, a gem rarer than his tea—for those tea leaves could be reproduced but you were one of a kind—wanted him as much as he wanted you. It was the first real smile he wore in a while. "We can switch to something stronger after dinner," Jumin suggested.

"Wine," you guessed. Oh, how he loved that you could read his mind. "I knew it. You always default to wine. Farewell, tea. His affair with you has been short but memorable."

Jumin was all too eager to agree. "Farewell."

Jumin hoped it would be a long, long time before his relationship with you could end. If it would ever end.

-

The footnotes that I thought would be an occasional extra but they just won't go away:

This fic is inspired by good dates and bad dates and that early crush feeling when you don't quite know the person yet so everything feels exciting and scary.

Don't worry, Jumin's tea rambles didn't deviate from canon. On day 8 he wishes you to learn tea brewing since all his family does it. I thought it'd be fun to highlight his nervousness by making him do something unexpected, especially since he's the type who would randomly do something out of pocket while still maintaining his gravitas.

The tea's legend is based on Da Hong Pao, a very rare, government-protected Chinese tea that you can only get if the president honours you some and from auctions. I didn't think I'd research that deep for accuracy for a mere fic but what am I if not committed.

The header is made to seem like a cheeky ad in the spirit of Jumin's tea endorsement. Contemporary fun with a touch of antiquity is what I was going for to capture the fic's mood and Jumin's preference. The challenge was to make a dynamic animation without looking flat or too complicated but still fit the time, format and size constraints. People still need to be able to immediately read the text, which means no over-the-top entrances and transitions. Truthfully, I die a little bit inside whenever I have to sacrifice aesthetics for function but it is what it is!

[shadowdaddies]

Meant to Be - Part IV.

Dark!Manorian x Reader

Part One | Two | Three

A/N: I keep deviating from my outline but I expect there to be 2 (maybe 3) more parts to this story

Muffled shouts sounded through the air, the sound echoing painfully in your head. Gloved hands grabbed your arms firmly, hauling you up as your vision cleared to reveal your guards eyeing you with concern. 

“Miss, are you alright to stand on your own?” You turned to your right to see a young guard holding your arm - honey brown eyes searching your face with genuine concern. You hadn’t taken the time to really look at these men who were with you almost constantly in the castle - the four of whom had been watching your every move. An oversight on your part, which you would be sure to remedy. 

You eyed the guard up and down - he was quite handsome, actually, with dark brown hair and ivory skin, tinged pink from the wind - and made a show of smiling at him as you put your hand on his. “Yes, I’m alright. Thank you...?” 

“Ryon, miss.” You batted your eyelashes, giving Ryon your best doe-eyed, innocent look. You peered at the guard to your left - a slightly older gentleman with rich umber skin and graying hair - who was eyeing you with suspicion. You moved your hand to his lower arm, giving a gentle squeeze as you smiled brightly.

“And your name?” 

The guard’s eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “Arnoux, miss.” 

Rubbing your thumb soothingly along Arnoux’s arm, you stepped back slightly from the two men to stand on your own - all four guards still watching you intently. “Well, thank you both for your assistance. I do think that I should head back to my room, though. I am still feeling a bit faint.” 

Ryon and the other two guards - you’d have to remember to learn their names later - looked to Arnoux, who was still watching you closely, an air of caution evident on his face. His dark eyes never left yours as the man gave a curt nod, signaling his approval. Ryon gently guided you ahead so that you were walking with the other two guards ahead of you, Ryon and Arnoux close behind. 

You held your head high, mostly so that it was easier to make note of your surroundings without turning your head too much. You suspected Arnoux’s, admittedly wise, consternation towards you was due to your unabashed snooping, and you’d need to be more careful moving forward. 

The group arrived at the door to your room, a tall blonde guard who Ryon addressed as Warrick ushering you inside as Arnoux instructed him to alert their Majesties of your “incident” in the garden. You internally sighed, hiding your disappointment as the door closed behind you, locking you in the room once more. The clock ticked quietly on the wall - its hands revealing how late in the day it was.

You looked out the window to the garden below where you had just fainted, your pulse pounding when you remembered what was in your dress pocket. You let out an exhale when flowers brushed your fingertips - they hadn’t caught you with the foxglove. Rushing over to the armoire, you took the foxglove from your pockets, burying the flowers beneath your sleeping clothes. You closed the drawer and doors to the chest, hurrying back to sit on the bed before anyone might come in and see. 

The moment of rest as you sunk into the mattress was like a dam breaking open - the swell of emotions crashing down into a torrent of tears as you began to process the news. Your fiancé was alive, and here. This changed everything in your plan - you’d have to find not only your own way out of this castle, but how to help him escape as well. 

Now was not the time for planning, however, as you finally let the tears fall, crying audaciously for anyone to hear. You wanted them to hear - Arnoux, Ryon, Manon, Dorian. You would let the entire palace hear your pain. And when you were ready, the entire palace would feel your wrath.

The door burst open, interrupting your sinister daydream as Dorian rushed in, Manon right behind him. Dorian looked near to tears himself as he knelt before you, sapphire eyes studying you for any sign of pain. Your mind detested how your heart swelled at his care. “We hurried here when Warrick informed us that you fainted in the gardens. We’ve called for a healer, but I needed to see that you were alright.”

Realizing they were coming from the dungeons where your fiancé was supposedly held, you glanced discreetly towards the clock on the wall. Less than eight minutes for Warrick to get down to the dungeons, and for them to return. If you could find the path to where he was kept, you would be able to make your escape with your love. An idea came to you - this would take time, but would be worth it in the end. 

You turned to Dorian, slipping on the too-familiar mask of innocence you’d used on Ryon just moments ago as you sniffled and nodded into his hand that held your cheek. “I am feeling quite ill. The journey to the gardens was unexpectedly difficult for me. I was thinking, I should probably stay indoors for awhile. The library was warm and comfortable.”

You held back your smirk at the shocked look on their faces at your proposal, their predatory smiles of pleasure as they thought they’d finally tamed you. Little did they know that the fawn was luring the wolves into an archer’s range. 

[friendsoup]

Hai theree!!^_^ if it's okay with you, could I request Dikke with a vampire reader??:3 Dikke has taken up most of my brain and I swear your writing for her has me even more obsessed 😭😭I hope you're having a good day also ^_^

A Conflicting Alliance

Recipe: Dikke x Reader, Dikke x Vampire! Reader, GN! Reader, Dikke has captured Reader, Yet the two still manage to get along, Slow Burn? Maybe?, Nothing explicitly romantic outside of some teasing, however if people like it I'll continue

WC: 910

Chef's Note: Okay I really really like this one I'm not going to lie... Vampires are INCREDIBLY fun to write, because of all the moral greyness... That paired with Dikke's strong moral compass is SO good. Sorry for leaving you a slow burn, but who knows! Maybe I'll make another part.

“So you’ve come to kill me.” Your voice is meek, as you kneel in your makeshift prison. The mud below you is freezing, coating your legs and hands, making it impossible to sap any sort of warmth from the tent that surrounds you. 

You’ve been captured.

Your once noble standing has been stripped from you, and everything you held dear torn away. And at the head of it all, the leader of this battle against you, is the woman that stands before you now.

She glares down at you, her icy blue eyes showing nothing but the deepest hatred. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and you can tell from where you sit that her jaw is clenched. For a minute, she doesn’t say a word. She simply stares down at you, her chest rising and falling in sharp, mechanical movements.

“You’re pathetic.” She spits. “To believe you were once a threat to me.” She growls. Her hands flex into fists, and for a moment you’re convinced she’s going to strike you. Yet the moment passes, and no pain comes. 

“So you’ve come here to gloat.” You guess, keeping your eyes low. “You wish to gawk at me before my execution, yes? To further rub the mud in my face.” “I don’t gloat.” She argues, crossing her arms. “Then what are you doing here?” She pauses. And for a moment, you think you see the faintest blush on her cheeks. She’s clearly taken aback by your question. As she quickly searches for any excuse, a grin lifts your lips.

“You’ve come to keep me company?” You ask, raising your head to meet her gaze. “Are you so desperate for a conversation that you must resort to a captive audience?” Your smile is cat-like, an expression enhanced by your fangs. They’re on full display, and you can see the soldier eye them, before quickly looking away.

“That’s a stupid assumption.” She growls, still not turning back to meet you.

“Yet you haven’t said it was wrong.” You keep your head held high, enjoying this small bit of leverage you’ve just gained. “I don’t blame you, I’m great company. Though I’d be far more entertaining if you let me into your tent for the night.” You say, tilting your head.

Dikke’s face flushes fully, as she whips her head to meet you. “Do you think I’m an idiot? I won’t fall for such lame seduction tactics! I’m the Supreme Chief of the Special Court! Justice itself! I will not be played for a fool!”

“It was worth a try.” You sigh, holding your head in your hands. “I suppose nothing can trick the Supreme Chief.” You have to hold back laughter, feigning disappointment. For someone so vicious, she’s incredibly easy to read.

The two of you are quiet for a moment. The knight looks around anxiously, while you study her face. She’s attractive, though you wouldn’t use the word ‘pretty’ to describe it. It’s more rugged than that, more masculine. Handsome is what pops into your head, to describe her sharp features and vibrant blue eyes. 

“You know…” You begin, leaning closer to the bars of your cell. “I’ve known of your existence for a very long time, but I’ve never received your name.” 

She blinks, confusion clear on her face. “It shouldn’t have been that hard to find. Are you inept?”

“No.” You say casually. “I just never saw you as that big of a threat. You had your job, I had mine. I never expected our paths to cross.”

She snorts. “Dikke.” Dikke states, unfolding her arms from her chest. “Your job consisted of you eating innocent men and stealing their belongings. I’d hardly call that a profession.”

“Y/N.” You answer, giggling to yourself. “It was a lucrative position! What can I say?”

A small smile shows itself on Dikke’s face as you say that. It’s uncomfortable, stiff, as if she’s not used to the expression. But for one glorious moment, it’s there.

“I should kill you.” She says, suddenly, shattering the peaceful air. “Keeping you alive, keeping you here, it goes against all my morals.”

“Surely we can come to some sort of compromise. I have quite the web of connections, I could lead you to some bigger fish.” You offer, as calmly as possible. The sudden shift of conversation to your death is quite unnerving, especially with the casual way she presented it. 

“You do?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. “Then you have use. I can’t dispose of you if that’s the case.”

“I do have one condition though.” You state, putting a hand up to the bars. “No armies. No soldiers. If you want to take down my brothers and sisters, then you do it with me, and me alone.” Dikke thinks for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing. She doesn’t speak for a minute, alarming you.

“What?” You tease. “Don’t think you can do it alone?” “That’s not the issue.” She says, her voice apathetic to your insult. “What if you betray me?”

“You bested me once, Dikke. I do believe you can do it again.”

You reach your hand through the bars, and up towards her. “What do you say? Let’s work together.” She’s hesitant, but ultimately she reaches forward, and takes your hand. Her hands are rough and calloused, the opposite of yours.  “Fine. If only to rid this world of your putrid kind.”

“That’s the spirit.” You say with a smile.

[https-harlow]

Mixed Emotions - Part 3 Petty Arguments

Summary- After finishing her first year of law school, Jack asks Gabriella to come on tour with him as his stylist.

Over the next several months, Gabriella continued to periodically style Jack. She would never admit it, but she was enjoying it. Even though Jack and Gabriella didn’t always agree, in fact, they didn’t agree more than they did, but Jack knew that Gabriella was doing him a huge favor, especially since she was currently finishing her first year of law school. While it might have been a stretch to say that the two were getting along, they were definitely getting along better then they did at the beginning of the year.

Gabriella hated law school, she knew it was going to be tough, but she didn’t expect just how difficult it would be. It wasn’t that Gabriella wasn’t smart enough, she got into Emory University, a private university with the law program having an acceptance rate of 30% with no help from her parents. She had also gotten accepted into the University of Chicago’s law program, which had an acceptance rate of about 20%, but her mom had ties to the law program at that university and she didn’t want anyone to say that she only got in because of her parents. Which is why she completed the whole application for Emory University by herself.

It wasn’t even the difficulty of her classes, she was passing all of her classes with absolutely no issues. She just hated her classes. Gabriella realized very quickly that she did not want to be a lawyer, but she didn’t want to let her parents down.

The weekend after Gabriella’s university let out for the summer and she ended up spending the weekend at Jack and Urban’s apartment. 

“Hey Gabi?” Jack asked, sitting down next to her on the couch, Urban had left to go pick up dinner for the three. 

“Yeah?” Gabriella asked.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay, what do you want to ask me?”

“I was wondering, since you’ve been doing alot of styling for me, and I know you’ve been telling Urban how much you hate school, if maybe you wanted to do all of my styling for tour.” Jack offered.

“Jack. I can’t just drop out of school to be your stylist.” Gabriella sighed. “I’ve thought about dropping out, but it isn’t that simple.”

“But why can’t it be that simple? If you want to drop out of school, this is your chance. Why continue doing something you hate when I’m trying to give you the opportunity to do something that you obviously love.” Jack asked.

“You’ve never realized it have you?” Gabriella asked Jack.

“Realized what?” Jack asked, looking at her confused.

“That my parents don’t care unless it’s some big moment in my life. I’m not saying they don’t love me, but I was just never a part of their plans. My parent’s plan was to move from Chicago to somewhere where my mom could start her own law firm and my dad could start his own medical practice. They were so ecstatic when I told them that I was going to law school so that I could take over my mom’s law firm one day.”

“But they would want you to be happy with what you do, not stuck in some career you don’t want to be in.” Jack said.

“They want me to be happy, I’m not saying they don’t. I’ve never felt like they don’t love me or anything like that, but since they never planned on having kids, they’ve always just been more focused on work. I’m glad they didn’t give up on what they wanted because of me, but I do feel like I come second sometimes. I know dropping out of school would be disappointing for them, even if they didn’t show it. Even if they were happy that I was doing something that I loved, both of my parents are always so focused on work that I know it would be disappointing if I didn’t take over my mom’s law firm.” Gabriella explained.

“My parents showed up to things like high school graduation, birthdays, or award ceremonies, things like that, but if it wasn’t something special, or even that year I got a B in that one class, they didn’t acknowledge my grades that year even though I got an A in every other class. I didn’t get in trouble, but I also felt like I disappointed them. I know it will be the same if I drop out of school. I won’t get in trouble, but I know it will be disappointing.”

“Is that why your family moved to Kentucky? To start their businesses?” Jack asked and Gabriella nodded.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to move away from my home at five, leave all my friends, my nanny, I didn’t know anything different. My parents wanted to move before I started school though. They tried to get my nanny to move with us, but she had her own life in Chicago that she couldn’t leave. Which as a five year old, I was very upset that my nanny had her own life outside of me, but everytime we went back to chicago I got to see her which helped.”

“Your nanny as in your grandparents?” Jack asked and she shook her head.

“No. My parents hired a nanny when I was born. I had one nanny until I was two, then they hired a live-in nanny so it was easier when they went out of town. Then when we moved to Kentucky, my parents both had a work emergency, the only people they knew were your parents, since you lived across the street, and since Clay and I were a similar age and got along, your mom offered to watch me after that.” Gabriella explained. “I think I ended up spending the same amount of time with your family as my own, if not more.”

“Why don’t you just come on tour with me as my stylist for the summer. That way you won’t feel like you’re disappointing your parents while you figure out if you really want to finish law school.” Jack suggested and Gabriella sighed softly.

“Maybe, when does your tour start again?” Gabriella asked.

“Three weeks, but I think Urban and I are planning on going back home for the week before the tour, at least come home with us.”

“My parents aren’t even going to be in town.” Gabriella told Jack.

“But mine are, and my mom asks about you everytime I talk to her.” Jack said.

“I talk to her at least twice a week.” Gabriella said. “But okay. I’ll come with you both. And I’ll come on tour as your stylist.”

“Really?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. I’ll have to be back in Atlanta by August for school, but what if I hate touring?” Gabriella asked.

“If you hate touring, I’m not going to make you stay. My team will have you sign something but it’s more like an NDA, I told them not to put any specific dates on there for you working for me. I’m not sure why I’m explaining paperwork to you, you’re the one in law school, you can understand legal paperwork.” 

“Jackman Harlow. You told your team I’d do this before you asked me?”

“I uh, I knew you had finals and I didn’t want to stress you out more. I told them that you might not do it. They needed an answer.”

“Did you even think that I might say no?” Gabriella asked. “What if I didn’t want to tour with you? You do know you haven’t ever been the nicest person to me? I don’t have to do any of this for you. I should have known you weren’t pushing me to style you for the tour because you wanted me to come. You were doing it because you already told your team I would.” Gabriella snapped at Jack.

“Look, I was just trying to do you a favor. I knew you liked styling me, and I knew you hated school.”

“No, actually, I like styling. But it’s not just limited to you. I’d much rather style just about anyone else.” Gabriella interrupted Jack.

“You’re so fucking annoying. I was just trying to do something nice for you. ‘You haven’t been the nicest person to me.’” Jack mocked Gabriella’s voice. “Well I tried to, and you see where that got me.” 

“Doing something nice for me, would have been giving me an option before you said I’d do it.”

“Well does it really matter, you agreed to do it now.”

“Yes, it does matter Jack. I swear, you’re so lucky that Urban and Clay are going on tour with you too because if it wasn’t for them being there, I’d back out.” Gabriella told Jack.

When they were little, their arguments ended the same way every single time. Both of them pouting and making little comments back and forth because they both wanted to get the last word. Now that they were adults, nothing had changed. The only thing that changed was instead of Maggie defusing their argument, this time it was Urban.

Urban got home about 15 minutes later, finding Jack and Gabriella sitting on opposite ends of the couch, Gabriella had her arms crossed and Jack had his phone in one hand, they were refusing to talk to each other. 

“Okay, what happened while I was gone?” Urban asked, setting the food down.

“Jack said that I would-” “Gabi said that-” They both started at the same time before looking at each other and then back at Urban.

“You two are like my children.” Urban uttered underneath his breath. “Gabi first.”

“Why does she get to go first?” Jack complained.

“Because I like her better. Now let her talk before I have to put you both in time out.” Urban said sarcastically.

“Jack told his team that I would style him for his tour before he even asked me.” Gabriella said.

“Okay, Jack, your turn.”

“I knew Ella had finals and I didn’t want to stress her out more, so I thought I was being nice. I had a deadline, but I knew if she said no she could get out of it.” Jack explained.

“Gabi, if you want to tell Jack no, tell him no, but, I’d love it if you came. Jack, next time, ask Gabi before you agree for her to do something. That’s just common sense.” Urban said.

“Well Jack must not have any common sense.” Gabriella whispered and Urban held back his laughter.

“I heard that.” Jack said.

“I meant for you too.” Gabriella said as she stood up, walking to the kitchen, Jack following her so they could eat.

“I should have known better than to leave them home alone.” Urban said to himself, following them before they could get into another argument.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404

[bbyquokka]

I loveeeee love LOVE that last Binnie thing omg my baby

Could you write something like it's the next day and he's sleeping in and you got up to make breakfast for him because big boy needs to eat a lot to maintain those muscles and he wakes up all grumpy because you were not in bed but then he's all shocked that you made him breakfast??

Lmao I'm so weak for him, yes I'll do the cooking yes I'll do the cleaning 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

tysm hun! ‹3

FLUFF BELOW CUT – MDNI

part one

warnings: gn!reader, mentions of the gym & food, changbin is soft af, this is just sickeningly sweet :)

10:10 am. your eyes slowly peel open, squinting in the harsh morning light. you bring a fist up to your eye, softly rubbing the sleep away. you let out a yawn slowly sitting up to look down at your sleeping lover.

flat on his stomach, head turned to you. his arm bent just above his head showing off his biceps. his lips parted as soft snores escape his lips, duvet covering his bottom half, his curly hair tousled and face puffy with sleep.

you melt. sure, changbin is very attractive, but seeing him in his natural, sleeping state where he is at his most vulnerable – is beautiful to you.

you slowly shuffle out off bed, feet hitting the cold wood floor. you walk out of the bedroom, closing the door slowly behind you. you do your usual bathroom routine before settling on cooking you and changbin some breakfast.

you know changbin inside and out. you've been living with him for two years now so you know his morning routine by now. that also means you know what he likes to eat in the morning.

changbin would typically wake up, get dressed for the gym, have a big breakfast stacked with protein and nutrients before heading off for the gym for an hour.

you start by cooking him some breakfast, boiling a pot of water for your tea/coffee. whilst cooking, changbin stirs in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open.

he groans softly, reaching out to the side as he expects you to be there for him to be disappointed when his hand comes into contact with your cold side. he sits up, brows furrowing together as his bottom lip sticks in a pout.

changbin cannot start his day off right without a cuddle with his fave person!

feeling himself get grumpy, he gets out off bed. he ruffles his hair, walking out of the bedroom. the smell of breakfast hitting his nostrils, his grumpiness disappearing as he approaches the kitchen.

his heart melts as he watches you cook for him, plating his plate high with food before making his protein shake. he sighs softly to himself, making a mental note to buy an engagement ring on the way back from the gym.

he walks behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“oh! morning sleepy head.” you giggle, looking at the clock that's hung on the wall. “or should I say afternoon?”

“i slept that long?” changbin mumbles. you hum softly, nodding.

“i think you needed it bin. did you sleep well?”

“mhm, I did. although, I was sad to see my darling wasn't with me when I woke up.”

“im sorry love. I wanted to make you breakfast before you go to the gym.”

“you did all this? for me?” changbin's heart beating against his ribcage, his body melting against you. you nod slowly and giggle.

“of course darling! cooked to perfection, just how you like it!”

“fuck y/n.” changbin gently spins you around so you're facing him. you blush softly, changbin tracing your jawline with his finger before placing his hand on your cheek gently. “marriage material.”

“oh hush bin.” you flush pink as Changbin leans in slowly, pressing his lips against yours gently in a sweet and delicate kiss.

“never.”

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @laylasbunbunny | @oshimee | @septicrebel | @bbujiikseu | @cixrosie

→ m.list – → tell me what you think here!

[curious-zigzagoon]

I want to know you. Pt. 1

Simon Riley x gender neutral reader

I’m doing it guys I hope you enjoy.

Summary: you and Simon get to spend a lot of alone time together thanks to work. It doesn’t go quite how you were expecting.

Warnings: none

Your code name is Fennec (like the fox)

Uhh yeah here it is :) (also first part is short still testing the waters with this whole posting my writing thing) not perfect but please enjoy.<3

“You and ghost have been tasked with scoping out an area that has a high profile target residing in it. In your free time you and ghost will be staying at a small and old safe house. You will be there for approximately three weeks.” Price announced with a small grin on his face. He knows me and ghost aren’t necessarily the best of friends. “When are we leaving?” I asked. “Tomorrow 8am.”Price said, Ghost nodded. I looked at the time at the clock behind Price, it was 6:47 pm. “Okay well I better start packing.” I stood from my chair and excused myself from the room. Well isn’t this amazing. I was thinking on my way back to my room. Just fucking amazing.

And just like that we were on our way to somewhere in Mexico. I spent a lot of time in awkward silence both on the plane and during our first few hours at the safe house. It was great. The grump had barely said anything to me at all this whole time, which is what I expected. I don’t think he’s ever really liked me that much. At least it feels nothing like how he is with soap. But soap is well soap it’s pretty easy to get along with him.

I was making some dinner for me and Ghost, beef and rice with steamed broccoli. Very bland. I was just about to plate the food when I felt a looming presence behind me. The ghost is very quiet but I know he’s there. “Do you need something Ghost?” He’s been quite cold to me, I tried to be nice for a while but I can play this game if that’s what he wants. “You can call me Simon now.” I turned around. He’s corrected me every time I’ve called him Simon and he’s never called me anything other than fennec even in non-strictly work settings. So this is strange. “Where is this coming from?” He was very close to me, I was almost backed against the counter. “Can I be honest with you Y/n?” Y/n? “Yes?” He came closer and I placed my hands on the counter behind me. He was so large, his figure was intimidating and this unusual behavior made me nervous. “I want you, I have for a while now.” Want me? Seriously. “You’ve been so cold to me Ghost, what are you talking about?” He sighed. “I’m sorry for my behavior, I’ve been trying to keep my distance from you, I don’t think I’m the kind of person you’d want to have relations with. But for some reason I felt the need to tell you” “I think that’s something I can decide for myself, and how am I supposed to decide that if you won’t let me get to know you?” He stood silently for a moment, he looked to the floor then back to me. “I will let you get to know me, but only if you let me have you. I don’t trust people so easily but I want to be around you.” “Okay well, Ghost I will not give myself to someone I hardly know.” He looked disappointed, and I’m sure me calling him ghost after he gave me permission to call him Simon stung. “I understand.” I thought for a moment “But it will just be you and me here for the next three weeks, and if you let me get to know you in that time I will consider it.” His eyes lit up a bit. “Okay.” Maybe he’s worth knowing is all that came to mind. I'm unsure of how this will end, but I wanna know.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With S (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

Safe (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan was a young neko who’s lived with his Master Chris fever since he was a kitten, but things were different now that he was older. Chris treated his neko poorly and only used him for his own pleasures. Chris’s best friend Phil finds out that Chris is giving away the young neko and immediately steps up to save him. Ultimately, a friendship blossoms between Dan and Phil, and Dan gets the happy ending he never thought he’d get.

said it was love and did it for life (did it for you) (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: Dan is down on his knees the first time Phil mentions weddings with any seriousness.

Sail Away With Me - paradisobound

Summary: It was a fluke. Dan shouldn’t have ever gone with Sam to a party on a yacht. He shouldn’t have trusted her to go. But in a chance encounter, he ends up in bed with Phil Lester, a billionaire CEO of a luxury clothing company. When he thinks he’s screwed up enough, he realizes he’s in way too deep. Because Phil Lester has fallen in love with him. The catch: Dan gave Phil a fake name and all Phil has to remember Dan by is the tattoo on his hip and the necklace he left behind.

Sanctuary (ao3) - hamartiawrites

Summary: Dan and Phil play Outlast II, and Dan finds out that Phil hiding half of his face with his shirt wasn't just an exaggeration for the fans.

sativa (i said im ready) (ao3) - catbearbunz (bunnieovadamoon)

Summary: it’s 2009, and phil really wishes dan would call. he does, but he comes greener than expected.

aka they get drunk and high and have esex.

Saturday Night Fever (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

Summary: It’s the 1970s, and Phil is just looking to have a little fun.

scratches on your body so you can take me whenever (ao3) - yoongioss

Summary: “Oh, your nails are really long? Are you growing them out?”

Dan glances down at them and raises his eyebrows like he didn’t look at them just this morning.

Second Chances, New Beginnings - doomedhowell  

Summary: Phil is a primary school teacher, Dan is a radio presenter and they’ve adopted a child together. Now they’re split up though and Dan faces the struggles of being a single dad while also having to deal with seeing Phil every time he takes his daughter to school.

Ships that pass in the night (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan and Phil are YouTubers. The catch? They’ve never met, and Phil doesn’t want them to.

show me where my days went (ao3) - weuspronouns

Summary: Through times of faith and resilience, Phil makes sense of his and Dan's place in each other's lives over the years. His only certainty in their ever-changing circumstances.

(inspired by you (show me where my days went) by wallows)

Silk - intoapuddle

Summary: There’s something vulnerable in pushing Dan’s eyes closed, and for some reason Phil can’t stop thinking about it (kink discovery, blindfolded)

Sir, How Old Is The Boy? (ao3) - steddieornot

Summary: Arjun sighed, “look, I understand that you are on vacation with your son, however, by law, you can’t bring him here after 8 pm.”

“He’s not my son?” The man now looked horrified. This confused Arjun even more.

Sketching in Moonlit Darkness - dnplegs, rainbowchristy, spaceandvinyls

Summary: Dan’s whole family are Slytherins, and he was expected to be one as well. But the stupid sorting hat had other ideas. Dan Howell: A Hufflepuff. What a disappointment, right? Luckily there’s a nerdy black-haired boy in the year above him who’s more than happy to supply cuddles and kind words when Dan’s in need.

Sleeping In A Spotlight (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan lets Phil play out a little fantasy.

slumber party (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: Dan never has been able to resist Phil’s spontaneous ideas, like having a slumber party in their lounge after filming a gaming video. Especially since it means getting to appreciate Phil in those red silk pyjamas.

(Set right after filming the DAPG video, “Getting Deep at the Slumber Party.")

Slut Era (ao3) - Bandom_Squirrel

Summary: Dan worries that he’s bad at being slutty. Phil is Phil.

snowballs (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: your mum is trying to get me drunk

So Tell Me When You’re Going To Let Me In - definitelythor

Summary: After Dan’s kicked out of his family home at Christmas, he picks up a hitchhiker on the way to York, and at first he wonders if he’s made a huge mistake. But Phil’s actually kind of perfect, and maybe fate does exist after all.

so you don't have to be brave (ao3) - Jamez

Summary: Dan is having trouble sleeping on tour. Phil helps.

sometimes i really think it would be cool to rewind (ao3) - r1caner

Summary: I used to watch the pigeons and be so afraid that they would die. But they will, and maybe some of the ones I used to see outside already have. I will too – I know that, always have. And I love to live, to drink coffee, to kiss you, to look at a dog and think about having one. I love to live, but I can live with life ending.

And then I think about it having to happen to you and I can’t do it.

Speak Now - phanlight

Summary: Teenage!phan are best friends and Phil has a crush on Dan. Phil also has a parrot and one afternoon when Dan’s at his house the parrot says “I love Dan” or something and then fluff happens.

Spin (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Phil and Jimmy used to be good friends in uni--very good friends. The sort-of relationship they used to have is all in the past, but when Jimmy comes over for dinner and Dan jokingly suggests a game of spin the bottle, things end up going very differently than Phil had planned.

Spoilers (ao3) - ahappyphil, Fictropes

Summary: “Fuck.” His younger self lets out a shaky breath, then he manages to compose himself enough to ask, “Do we have a dog?”

still so lucky (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan and Phil take a little trip, but Phil gets a migraine.

Stir Fry (ao3) - ottertrashpalace

Summary: Dan never cooks unless he's feeling guilty. Phil waits.

strangers (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: dan is new to london and living in a mostly empty flat, desperate to forget the mistakes of his past. he’s all alone – until one day he gets a piece of mail addressed to someone in the neighbouring flat, one mr. philip lester. he can’t exactly not return it, can he?

Such a Heavenly View (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

Summary: Hoping to escape the front lines, Phil Lester quits his job and trains with the medical corps, months before the war started. When all is not what he thought it would be, and a small tragedy occurs, he finds himself back home as a volunteer at a war hospital. He meets someone, someone unexpected, who offers him a heavenly view of his circumstances and helps him believe that just maybe the world isn’t so bad after all.

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Phil (ao3) - castrotophic

Summary: Phil buys a motorcycle. Dan can't decide whether he's horny or upset. Kissing ensues.

swallowing the stars again (ao3) - bliiinding

Summary: “Because this is what we do.” Phil told him, floorboards creaking underfoot as he treaded closer. “As people.” He placed a hand back against the wall of the house, as if to steady himself, if not, to still the forces of whatever lay not quite so dormant within the walls. “We want to show the people that matter the most, the things that matter the most.”

Dan tried to hide his blush, but everything with Phil Lester was a weighted die, a rigged game, a losing war, but still he refused to set his cards down to the table - he was stubborn, stupid, perhaps, or instead just irrefutably sixteen years old. Phil smiled at him. Another battle lost.

Sweet Pea (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summary: A nickname that goes bitter in your mouth. Cries for help that no one listens to. Gentle hands that make you quake on the ground you’re standing on. When Phil first met Nico, he thought he was a gift from the heavens. But behind the mask lies something daunting, something unnerving, that Phil never foresaw. Through his journey, he finds solace in Dan, the regular at his workplace, who seems to be the only one who sees through Nico’s mask to the darkness underneath.