#nothing against my rook I think she's perfect for the voice

[amarmeme]

I keep thinking that I accidentally designed my first rook to look like someone who smoked a pack of cigarettes a day dealing with the venatori and the day before the events of veilguard finally decided to give up smoking.

She's really struggling here guys.

[earthfire-75]

Demons have needs too

Genre: Dragon Age Veilguard

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Rook, Spite x Rook , Spite!Lucanis, female!Rook, Named Rook, otherwise, non descript

Warnings: smut, just smut PWP , knife play?, no blood, demon possession, dub-con

Notes: purple italics are Spite's thoughts/speaking

Wherein we wonder if Spite isn't actually a Desire demon...

Luna sighed and dragged herself out of bed. Heading into the kitchen, she found Lucanus’ coffee maker next to the stove. She smiled to herself, making herself a cup and a fried egg sandwich for breakfast, then she would head to the training room, where she would also likely find Lucanis. She leaned against the doorway as she watched him, jumping a little when he spoke without looking at her.

“You are improving, my friend. I almost did not hear you.”

Friend? Not friend. Want!

She hid the sadness she felt at his use of friend. She desires so much more than his friendship, had since the last time they had seen each other. But she had only been a teenager then. Now, seeing him again, she knows what she feels isn't infatuation. There is a sexual tension that comes with their sparring, however, and she needs to be careful. She's certain Lucanis Dellamorte is neither ready for any sort of romance yet, nor interested in her that way to begin with.

“Almost only counts in playing horseshoes,” she teased.

“And hand grenades. Or so I ‘ve heard.”

Lucanis turned around, finally facing the girl…no, woman…entertaining the training room. He remembers the teenager he last met years ago. She was beautiful then, but now? Now she made his heart race and his cock twitch, for Makers sake. Now he both looked forward to and dreaded their sparring. The sexual tension it brought…he wanted to …do things to her...

Fuck her, the demon supplied in a whisper. Make her ours! Spite breathed in deep. Smells like…lavender dipped in honey.

Lucanis, for his part, does his best to ignore the demon, giving Luna a smile that's meant to be reassuring as he withdraws his daggers from their sheaths. “Ready for our sparring session, my Moon?” It's a slip, one he deliberately does not acknowledge, in hopes that she missed it. But of course she does not. Still, Luna says nothing, refusing to believe he meant it in the way her heart wishes he did.

* *

He had her pinned against the wall, hands above her head, his dagger pressed firmly against the hollow of her throat. His eyes were ablaze with something she dare not name and something more sinister as he started her down.

Fuck her! The demon was worked up now, more difficult to ignore.

Pretty. Pretty tits, pretty pussy.

Never kissed, never touched

Wants, needs, aches. Aches for us!

The demon tightens their grip on Luna’s wrists. Their eyes drop to her breasts, sliding the blade from her throat down to the first button of her shirt.

We want, we need.

Throb, pulse, ache. Ache for her!

“Lucanis?”

A deep growl - Take, claim, taste, fuck!

Ours! All ours! Fuck her or we will!

At the first sign of hesitation, Spite growls in frustration, shoving Lucanis' consciousness to the side, but not down. The demon wanted its host to remember this.

“We want to see those pretty tits.” The voice that came out of Lucanis was not entirely his own and Luna swallowed around something stuck in her throat as the hand holding his dagger flicked, sending the first button flying. The second and third aren't far behind as Luna's breasts rise and fall heavily.

“Pretty Moon. We won’t hurt you. Well, maybe a little, but we think you'll like.,” the demon spoke as it continued to flick away at the remaining buttons. “But we won't deny ourselves anymore. We want you wrapped around our cock. Not our fist.”

The blade slides back up, between her breasts, cuts through the lacings of her bra, then uses it to move the shirt away from her breasts, exposing them completely. They circle her left breast with the dagger, spiraling closer and closer to Luna's tightening nipple.

“Such lovely, perfect tits.” Spite takes her nipple between its teeth, rolling it until pleasure borders pain.

“We want to tell you, but Lucanis is a coward. Big scary assassin can't tell the pretty how much we want to feel her tits, suck her nipples and ram our cock into her dripping cunt over and over until she's screaming our name, drunk on the absolute fucking we’ll l give her.”

The demon takes the blade to her right breast, offering up the same treatment as its twin. “But no, he leaves that for me to do. So We'll tell you every dirty thing we want to do to you.”

Luna hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop herself from squirming, squeezing her thighs together, arching her breasts forward and moaning as her nipples hardened and her pussy pulsed with desire. The demon breathed in deep, taking in her scent and picking up on her sweet arousal. It dropped their eyes to her still covered bottom half. With the dagger still in hand, the demon cut the ties holding Luna's pants up and watched them fall to her ankles before swiftly and carefully cutting off her panties at the hips.

It slides the blade up her thigh from knee to apex, watching goosebumps form all over her skin, making her nipples tighten even more and a gush of desire floods her. The demon gathers some on the blade carefully, as if gathering something precious. “ We want to taste you,” it whispers before licking her gathered juices from the blade, slow and sensual.

“To fuck you with our tongue and fingers. To fill your dripping, aching cunt in every way you’ll let him…Let us.”

The demon drops the dagger, lifting Lucanis' hand to cup her breast, lowering his head and swirling his tongue around her npple, nipping at the sensitive bud just to hear her cry out, to make another gush of arousal slide down the insides of her thighs.

“We've wanted you like this the longest. Every time we've sparred together, we’ve imagined fucking you into the wall after. Your tits bouncing in our face, your aching cunt squeezing tight around our equally aching cock.” It finally pressed their cock into her thigh as he kicked her legs apart, making her fuck their leg as she feels just how hard they are.

“We’ve imagined bending you over the kitchen table, our hand twisted in your hair, fucking you senseless from behind, not caring who might walk in and see it. Imagined tying you to your bed, legs spread as far apart as possible, arms above your head as you are now, helpless, dripping, begging as blade and tongue trace the shape of your perfect body, especially your tits. Maker, we really love your tits…then we bury our fingers deep into your cunt until you scream out your first and second orgasms. And then, of you’re a really good girl, we fuck your cunt with our cock.” It pressed said cock harder into her thigh to punctuate the point.

It shifted their hips just enough to be right next to her apex and began dry humping. The hand cupping her breast now pinching and pulling at her nipple. It swirled their tongue around the opposite nipple before closing their lips around the hard bud and sucking. The action made Luna moan and her hips jerk. “Please,” she begged, “Lucanis, please…”

“Shhhh, little Moon. Lucanis is…present enough. Point of no return, Pretty. Let us take care of you, let us fuck you, little Moon. Let us…” Frustratingly, the demon found it's host had more influence on them than they thought. They couldn't just fuck her like they wanted. Not without permission.

“Yes!” She couldn't take anymore teasing. Tears stung her eyes thinking her weakness now damned them both, but her hips begged the demon to take her, to fuck her in the ways it described. In a moment she felt the heaviness of his cock before it was teasing at her entrance and sliding all too easily into her, stretching her, filling her.

It did not ease the aching, but heightened it, her cries of pleasure/pain growing louder with each thrust. The demon growls, releasing her wrists to grip her hips in both hands, practically bouncing her on their cock, manipulating how she squeezes around it. She has to grip their shoulders to hold herself up.

“Please…” Luna angles herself to lean back a bit. “I need…” She feels them reach between her legs, thumb finding her clit and rubbing hard, rough circles into it and her pitch becomes higher as she now fucks herself on their cock.

They watch, in awe of her even as they chase their own orgasm. Indeed her breasts bounce, her face twisted in pleasure, sacred and profane all at once. A final thrust of their hips and she screamed out their name as predicted. But their own release comes with a whimper as they bury their head into the crook of her neck.

“You could bring us to our knees, little Moon. You could bring a demon to its knees…”

[viilpstick]

Since yall asked and I wanna deliver @midnightmah07 here is some valentine content

FYI this before poppy and Epel started dating

.

.

Careful hands pulled the pie tin out of the oven, gently placing it in the shelf.

"There it's set! "

The apple pie was perfectly browned, the apple filling remained inside the pie held together. Poppy looked at her work satisfied. After all it need to be perfect.

"Didn't know you had baking plans today? "

Startled by the sound voice, she swiftly turned around to see Adeline leaning against the door frame.

"O-oh.. Uh well it's tradition to give hand amde sweets to who you want to be your valentine, is it not? "

Adeline's eyes visibly glimmered as she drew closer.

"So it's for someone special, huh? "

"Well, yes. Valentines days is tomorrow so I can't really delay this anymore. "

"Well come on Poppy, tell me who it's for? "

"Well it's for.... Epel. "

"I KNEW I-ahem sorry about that. "

"heh it's nothing."

Fiddling with her fingers, Poppy seemed to be avoiding Adeline's gaze which Adeline caught on to quickly.

"You seem pensive. Anything wrong? "

"It's just... Could you help me out? "

"With what? "

"Asking Epel out. I'm scared of he says no... "

"Oh, don't worry Poppy! I'm sure he likes you back. And I'll deal with him if he even thinks of rejecting you. "

"You think s-WAIT NO DELIH "

...

"You seem rather tense. "

"Oh Vil-San, Rook-san. Sorry I didn't see you there. "

"Hmm, something seems to be on your mind Epel. "

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. "

"Seriously. Don't lie especially when it's this clear. "

"Oui. If something is bothering you, do trust us to help you out. "

"Well it's just... It's valentines tomorrow and-"

"You want to ask Madamoiselle Rouge for a date? "

"How did you nevermind but yes. "

"Well one thing is for sure, if you keep procrastinating and show this lack of confidence, you won't get anywhere. "

"I know i know it's just-"

"If you want to ask her to be your date, get it over with. Beating around the bsuh will do you no good. "

...

"Thanks for the picnic, Pop! The pie was so delicious. "

"Ofcourse no problem Epel! I was hoping you'd like it. Speaking of which...."

"I've got to ask you smth. "

"Oh, you can go first Epel."

"No no it's fine you go. "

"Same time? "

"Sure. "

3..2..1

"Will you be my valentine? "

this is SO FUCKING CUTE

I AM CRYING

SO BADLY

YALL ITS THE TITANIC MY ROOM RN

THEY ARE BABIES

[thefangirlthatwaited]

Eden (Chapter 2) A Assassin Creed Syndicate story

Jacob Frye x Original Female Character

What happens when you fall in love with the man you were only supposed to be stringing along? That's what happened to Eden. She was only supposed to toy around with Jacob Frye, Master Assassin and leader of the Rooks. She only needed the Shroud of Eden, and then she would never see Jacob or the city of London ever again. But she forgot one key thing she couldn't control—her heart. Now Eden must fight against what her heart is telling her and her task since her accident. To love or to live. That was what was at stake.

My stomach was in knots as I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. I didn’t know why my body was reacting like this. Stringing Jacob around was a means to an end. He had the information I needed, and flirting with him was the best way. I took a deep breath, steadied my racing heart, and opened the door. Jacob stood there with a few of his gang members I’d heard about. The one woman was wearing grey slacks with a yellow sash, a white shirt with a green vest and her blonde hair was cut short and was covered by a black hat with a yellow ribbon. There was also a man with him. He was also wearing grey slacks with a white shirt and a yellow sash but not a vest or hat to cover his red hair. 

“Just keep an eye out for anything odd,” Jacob said to his men. They both shook their heads in agreement before taking off. His shoulders sagged now that his gang members were gone. He looked tired, and I wondered why. Turning around, his smile returned to his face once he saw me. 

“Oh, Good morning, Claudia.” 

“Good morning Mr. Frye. To what do I owe the pleasure.”

Jacob chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Please call me Jacob. Mr. Frye was my father, and when I hear that name, I expect to find him standing behind me.” 

I smiled. “Alright then, Jacob, to what do I owe the pleasure?” “Well, I was in this part of town and wanted to know if you would like to spend time with me today?” 

“Spend some time with you? Why?”

“I had some free time today, and I figured I could show you around since you haven’t been to London before.”

“That’s very kind, but...” I hesitated to tell him what I had planned today. “I need to do some shopping today if you do not mind joining me.”

Jacob’s smile grew larger. “That’s perfect. I can join you and make sure no more thieves try to steal from you.”

“You think someone would try again?”

“It is London, after all.” 

“Alright. I would love your company as I run my errands today.”

Jacob stepped to the side, allowing me to start walking. “Lead the way.” 

I forced a smile on my face as we started our walk. I knew I needed to earn Jacob’s trust, but today couldn’t have been a worse day. I needed to grab some items to upgrade my gauntlet, and I didn’t want Jacob to see and give away who I truly was. We walked silently for a bit as I tried to think of a way to get my items without arousing suspicion. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

I jumped a bit, caught off guard. “Just wondering what you were talking about to the other two people you were with this morning.” 

He shook his head. “It was nothing. Just my gang making sure they are looking out for anything odd.” 

“You have a gang?” I acted surprised.

“I do. Does that surprise you?”

“A bit. Then again, our first meeting started after you jumped from a rooftop.” Jacob chuckled sheepishly. “Another question that goes with the first. What could be odd in London?” 

“You would be surprised. But that is a story for another day.” Damn. He didn’t have enough trust in me yet. We continued walking, and the market came into view, but I didn’t have a solid plan yet. Seemed that luck was on my side, at least. A voice yelled from behind as we entered the shopping district. 

“JACOB!” Jacob and I stopped, and he turned to see who was calling him. It turned out to be a woman. She was equal in height to Jacob, and they even shared the same colour hair and eyes. I eyed an assassin gauntlet on her arm and guessed she was Evie Frye—Jacob’s twin sister.

“Hello, Dear sister.” He grumbled and turned back to me. “Claudia, this is my sister Evie Frye. Evie, this is Claudia?” Jacob said, pausing since he didn’t know my last name. 

“Hello Evie, my name is Claudia Fiore,” I said, holding my hand to shake. Evie looked at my hand, then back at me and ignored it. 

“Hello.” She said before turning her attention to her brother. “Jacob, can I speak to you for a moment?” Evie paused and looked back at me. “Alone.” 

I smiled at Jacob, quickly taking this as my opportunity to upgrade my gear. “Go with your sister Jacob. I will meet you back here in a bit.” He looked a bit unsure, and I gave him a reassuring smile.

Full Chapter on Ao3

[twst-drabbles]

Vil 4

Summary: …you weren’t supposed to be the one to drink it.

(Aaaaaaangst my little children. I had this idea for a while but didn’t have the energy to actually write it out up until now. But yeah, angst, poisoning, near death, possible death, some gore, and a panicking Neige along with a forever ruined “friendship“ between them, aaaand unhealthy thoughts. I’m uhhhhh…I’m not nice.)

How many times has this tale been told to him, about the Beautiful Queen concocting a most vicious poison for the sake of her beauty and her beauty alone? How many times has Vil looked upon her willpower and hoped that he too can match up to that strength?

How foolish he was, thinking he could ever reach the pedestal she made with her own hands.

Was his heart not strong enough? Was his beauty not fit for people to look upon? Was his mind not sharp enough to perfectly cultivate himself?

All of this must be true. It’s been mistake after mistake, running throughout his entire life, all because Neige existed.

Why couldn’t Neige have been born in a different era? Why must he be so close in age to him? Really, all his efforts must be laughable compared to Neige. The Beautiful and Cruel Queen must be laughing at him.

But he continued to climb anyway. He continued to perfect his dance, perfect his voice, perfect his beauty. A single victory. He simply needed a single victory against Neige. Maybe then that serene aura of his that draws others in will finally wither in Vil’s presence.

But he was mocked once more. Effort means nothing in the shining sincerity that Neige might as well be made of. If Vil can’t reach the levels that Neige is standing on, then he must simply make him fall.

The world will mourn, but his beauty will be all that’s left. If Neige is gone, then the world has no choice but to turn to him.

One sip. That’s all Neige needed to take. Just one simple sip and Vil’s dream will finally be within reach.

But he didn’t take it. Instead, he wanted to save it for later, to savor it once he’s done gathering Dominic and the others for more practice. Vil offered to carry the drink and walk with him, as two pairs of eyes were better than one.

“No need to carry it,” Neige giggled as he opened the door to his waiting room. “Let me just put this in the mini fridge and then we’ll talk along the way, okay?”

Patience. Vil just need to be patient for just a bit longer. He can stomach it. He can brave through Neige’s sickly sweet smiles and light laughs.He just needs to wait.

…So many little mistakes Vil has made through the course of trying to surpass Neige. In his anger, Vil has neglected to listen in on that phone call you answered, neglected to hear that you’ll be visiting a new friend you had just made.

Vil heard your voice. Everyone has a unique tone to it, and yours was of no exception. He couldn’t hear your words behind the door, but can tell you were questioning. A heat so vile flowed through him, threatening to boil the blood right out of his veins.

Of course Neige would find friends here. Of course he would beguile the gazes of everyone on Vil’s side with his lovely voice alone.

Vil so wanted to storm in, to demand why you were here of all places, even thought Vil so clearly said they can do as they wished.

“Oh, of course you can! Here.”

Vil’s fingers had only brushed against the door knob when those words pierced through the hated fog blanketing his mind. Two breaths he took, as the image of the bottle flashed through his mind before something shattered on the floor.

He heard you violently coughing, spitting and gagging as Neige’s voice cried out, trying to sooth you, to calm you down, failing to hide his own rising panic as you struggle to respond. Vil felt himself take a step back when Neige’s voice gasped and took on a watery tone.

“Please! Don’t scratch yourself!”

Vil took a step further back when he heard your gurgling wheezes get closer. Rook appeared by his side, but Vil was unable to look at anything besides the door in front of him. It swung open, a teary eyed Neige struggling to support your weight came out. You had a blue handkerchief pressed against your mouth, but a red tinted foam still flowed through.

And when Neige looked at him, pure brown eyes that have never once shown with hatred, he recoiled back.

For once, for the first time in his life, Neige finally gazed upon him with something other than admiration. Finally, he viewed him as someone to be feared as the Beautiful Queen once was.

Vil wanted to throw up.

He wanted to gouge out his own eyes, let his own blood stain his immaculate hands permanently so that none may ever admire them. He wished to cut off his legs, make himself smaller so none may ever gaze upon him.

Vil wished to hide from the fear and hatred he so wanted to see from Neige.

How funny, Vil thought, If there was a mirror here, would I react the same?

As you were rushed away, as someone came and restricted Vil’s still body, the blood that tainted your foamy spit turned black as ink.

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (II)

Summary: You crash the wedding with Grim and Ortho. Unlike the others, proposing isn’t on your mind. You come with a very different approach. 

An angstier take on Ghost Marriage. Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story. (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

If the students of NRC thought they’ve seen Eliza at her angriest, they were wrong. The fury she displayed now was incomparable. While Idia fawned over your dramatic anime-worthy entrance, the new interruption was getting on her last ghostly nerve.

“Guards! Seize them!” she roared. Immediately, the ghosts went into action. Idia held his breath as he watched the obedient ghosts charge at you, Grim, and Ortho. He hoped you didn’t barge in with no plan. If you didn’t come equipped with useful items, you would end up like everyone else. 

Chubby, determined to get rid of the intruders that caused distress to his beloved princess, was eager to get rid of you. (”Simp”, Idia muttered) However, eagerness wasn’t enough against an opponent equally as determined. As soon as he got too close, an unknown force threw him backwards to where Eliza floated, shocking the princess.

“Chubby! Are you alright?”

Idia, on the other hand, was elated. 

“Th-that’s so OP!” he exclaimed. He knew you heard him, because your gaze flicked to him for a split second before looking away. Embarrassed, Idia shut his mouth. He’d expected at least a smile. 

After Chubby’s failed attack, other ghosts attempted to face your group. They only met the same fate. Confused, they could only pay their apologies to the princess and watch on in helplessness. Just what did you have up your sleeve? Who did you get such an SS-tier item from?

“Princess, it’s impossible to stop them!” the last of Eliza’s guards told her. For the first time that night, she looked afraid. 

Grim guffawed, while you smirked. A familiar look. It was always there before you jumpscared an enemy, or before you checkmated a poor opponent. Idia might have thought it was kinda hot. At the moment, he was oblivious to his gaping mouth, and how wildly his hair blazed. What were once lightly blushing tips were now an alarming red—a level of ferocity never seen from him before. 

“You can’t touch or hurt us!” boasted Grim, a devious smirk on his face. “We had some he—mprfgh!” He was abruptly cut off by Ortho’s robotic arm covering his mouth. Idia’s brother shook his head at your noisy dorm mate. 

“Release my big brother now!” he demanded. Idia grimaced, but didn’t feel too worried. As long as Ortho was with you and your anti-ghost protective shield, he would be safe. 

As expected, the ghosts were affronted. 

“How dare he order the princess like that?”

“You ought to be punished for your insolence!”

“To intrude on a royal wedding and speak disrespectfully! 

“Send them to the gallows!”

One talked, and one talked over the other. Soon, all that could be heard was an unintelligible susurrus of disembodied voices. One ghost had enough of it, and shouted to Eliza: “Princess, the kiss! Do what must be done!” 

“NO!” You and Ortho yelled at the same time. You continued to walk towards the makeshift altar as your two companions followed close behind. Ghosts rushed to block your path, but you pressed on as your invisible shield threw them back. It looked absolutely badass. Well, anything you did was cool to Idia, anyway. 

 “Out of my way!” You commanded, strong and unwavering. He’d seen you annoyed and angry before, but never up to this point. It basically radiated off of you that a danger warning could be floating above your head. 

“S-so intimidating... “

“So scary!”

Sure, this wedding crasher looked like you, but something was different. An unexplainable sinister aura wreathed you tonight. Was it your glare, or was it that regal suit you wore? Idia must have been too distracted by you, that he only noticed now how your cape seemed to drag shadows with it. You were a villain... much like one of the villains from his video games! And something else that was familiar. 

Whatever it was and wherever it came from, there was a menacing presence in the hall tonight. 

All were silent, except for the wind whistling through the hall. If one listened more carefully, they would hear drowned-out cackles. But it is just the wind, right?

“Wh-who are you?” Eliza finally asked. The ghosts who were ashamed at being unable to seize you began to form a protective ring around their princess. Eliza herself, Idia noticed, was starting to curl in on herself—her presence shrinking the closer you approached. “What do you want?”

“The groom,” was all you said, staring her down as if eyes alone could exterminate the ghost in front of you. 

“Idia?” she asks weakly, glancing at her tied-up groom. Idia said nothing and did nothing but look at you, attempting to telepathically communicate his panic. You barely even looked at him. 

“He’s mine.” 

Hold up—?

More gasps and chatter. They sounded less like whispers and more like the buzzing insects he heard whenever he snuck out at midnight. The world spun. Idia stared at you open-mouthed. 

If he were asked to describe his state of mind at this moment, it would be similar to a loading screen. Suddenly, everything you did together played back in a 1.75x supercut sequence. 

Mine. 

Mine. 

Mine.  

“Wh-what?” Eliza sputtered. “What do you mean?” 

You answered her, voice losing the steadiness it possessed just moments ago. “You have the man I love.” 

Wha… 

KDJAFCKSAJHDKACBSXCJSIEUDS?

Idia.exe has crashed. Reboot? 

~~

The audience’s reactions were varied. Some students on the floor were amused by the spectacle and could have used some popcorn (and a comfortable position) during these times. Some were horrified and disappointed by the idea of the prefect being in love with Idia Shroud the shut-in. Some were much too confused to feel anything. 

“Pardon…? What did I just hear?” Azul asked the floor.

“Puppy love,” Lilia wept, sniffling very loudly. “You know, this reminds me of when I was young...” 

“Whaddaya mean when you were young?!” Floyd snapped. His irritability had spiked up even more when you arrived. His position prevented him from witnessing the events. Everyone on the floor could feel his bad mood rolling off of him in waves. 

“Hey! Watch your tone when speaking to Lilia!” scolded Sebek. 

“... Are they acting?” Leona mumbled. 

“Oh, this better be an act.”  said Vil.  “... though it does not seem to be.” The last part of his observation remained unheard by anyone else, except for Rook. 

“I believe we are witnessing a genuine love confession,” added the Chasseur d’Amour himself, voice soft as he sighed dreamily. “Engrave this moment into your memories, everyone! We are fortunate to witness it…”

But no one shared his enthusiasm about the situation. The others expressed their displeasure by groaning and complaining. “... well, even in this state we are in?” he added as a follow-up. 

~~

Reboot. 

You once fell asleep on Idia’s shoulder after finishing a movie. It was something you both only watched to make fun of, but you were apparently too tired to give your top-tier jokes and meme references. The contact sent his heart into overdrive as he froze, begging for option boxes to appear and help him. The flames of his hair blazed so brightly that it woke you back up. It was embarrassing, and sometimes he would remember it late at night and cringe. 

It was happening again, but worse. Any moment now, he was sure that he alone could burn down the cafeteria, if not the whole school. This was stupid. Why did he get that worked up over an obvious act? A mere ploy to get the ghosts to release him?

Reality catches up and deals him triple attack damage. Crowley probably put you up to this. You were probably annoyed that you were forced to do this, weren’t you? That’s why you couldn’t even look at him. It had to be the cruelest joke that fate ever threw his way. 

“I can’t say I don’t understand you, Princess,” you tell Eliza, forcing a smile. “Idia is perfect, is he not?” He felt your eyes on him. This time, it was he who couldn’t quite meet your gaze. Looking down at the floor was all he could do; it couldn’t judge his blushing face. Only when the warmth in his cheeks faded did he feel it safe to look back up again. 

“You see him, don’t you, Princess?” Your voice began to falter, losing the confidence and authority in it that scared the ghosts. “He’s so much more than what everyone else thinks! We agree on that, don’t we?”

Eliza’s face softened, nodding. “Yes. I’ve seen how these people insult him!” she tells you, gesturing to the ‘failed princes’ on the floor.

“But we’re still different,” you stepped closer, but still far enough so that your invisible anti-ghost forcefield wouldn’t activate. “You don’t want to marry Idia, you want to marry your fairytale prince.” 

Eliza appeared to be genuinely confused. She looked around at her companions, before turning back to you. “What do you mean?”

“You’re in love with your ideals, not the person himself,” you explain. “You only chose him for his appearance. Am I right? His personality, likes and dislikes, and possible flaws don’t matter to you.”

Eliza seemed deep in thought. While she was silent, you release a bitter laugh and threw your hands up.  “I mean, do you even know what his favorite candy is?”

Pomegranate drops. You asked to have some, but he refused to give you any. He wouldn’t tell you why, but he let you assume it was his favorite and didn’t want to share because of that. 

That wasn’t it, though. Maybe he’d tell you once you were both out of here. 

“You’ve never stayed up until 4am just to join him on a raid!” You waved your hands wildly, lost in your rant. Whether Eliza understood you or not, you seemed to have stopped giving a damn. 

“Weak!” he teased, noticing your drooping eyelids and reduced concentration. Deep down, he felt bad for keeping you up late.  “Look, it’s fine if you need to rest.”

“Nah, let’s finish this. What are you going to do without me?” you replied, smirking.

“You don’t even have 4-hour conversations with him on Magicord VC like I do!” 

It lasted up until 3am. You two were laughing at memes. He could hear a groggy Grim complain in the background about the noise. 

“Alright. Here’s a question, princess. How much would you risk for the man beside you right now? Bet that’s where we’re different...”

Eliza’s gaze darted back and forth between you and Idia. Even the other ghosts were silent, waiting for your next words. 

“... because if you ask me, I would risk everything! That’s why I’m here wearing this stupid suit!”

It’s not real. It’s not real. The emotion behind every word was a punch to the gut. If you kept this up, he might need a healer soon. Ever since he realized he was falling, he tried to quell the sparks of hope you ignited whenever you did something nice for him. All that hard work was gone. Each word you uttered was gasoline. 

“To think that if I arrived minutes later… th-that I would never see him again!” A sob escapes your throat, your intimidating persona crumbling.

No, don’t do that. Idia wanted to reassure you that he was still there and he was okay, but he couldn’t. It’s part of an act. It’s part of an act. 

“So please… just let him go.” The front you wore has completely dissolved. There you were, reduced to a sobbing mess in front of a ghost princess and the students of NRC. 

You weren’t the only one. All traces of anger or fear have vanished from Eliza’s face. Instead, she put her hands over her mouth. The princess had been moved to tears. Finally, she turns to Idia. “Idia, they seem to l-love you very much… ”

“That’s right.” You wiped your tear-streaked face and pointed an accusing finger at the ghosts. “And all of you! Are you going to enable her forever? Encourage her shallow ideas of what love should be?” 

They all looked down, unable to meet your eyes. 

“You have no right to just snatch him up and claim him as yours,” you told Eliza with an unfaltering resolve, despite your tear-covered face and your crumbled front of strength. “Did you never think… that there could have been someone waiting for him to return?” 

“I-I never meant to!” Eliza cried. “I was so blinded by my own happiness. I never thought… never even considered…” 

“Princess, it’s alright. We all make mistakes.” Chubby told her, trying to be reassuring. 

“Tell me, intruder. How else am I going to find my prince?” she asked you with no trace of hostility. You stopped for a while, staring at her. 

You must not have expected the question. Idia saw you look at him—it was the longest time you’d looked at him all evening. Clearing your throat, you began to explain. You fumbled a bit, scratching the back of your neck and tugging at the hem of your coat as you explained what a perfect partner should be. 

As you spoke, Idia was enthralled by your voice and most of all, the knowledge you possessed about love and romance. He hadn’t seen this side of you before. How did he ever think that a hundred dating sims could make him a romance expert?

“Is that so?” she sighs, bowing her head. “I understand now. I’m so sorry… for causing you so much grief.” 

She turns to her companions, giving them a sad smile. “There’s only one thing to do. Everyone, we must stop this wedding.” 

Idia wanted to fall to the floor in relief. At least a few exhausted sighs and weak cheers could be heard from the wedding “attendees”. You fell to your knees, exaggerating your gratitude. 

“Thank you, princess!”

“But Princess… what about your happily ever after?” Chubby interjected. 

“I can’t tear two lovers apart!” Eliza wipes a few of her own tears, then turns to you. “I was deeply moved by your words. I dream of having a lover like you,” she sighs dreamily, probably imagining her future lover already. 

While the students of NRC rejoiced at this victory, Idia’s heartbeat quickened in fear. What if Eliza decided to take you for herself?

“Princess…” Chubby muttered, sighing. Eliza only gave him a reassuring smile. Phew. Idia relaxed, grateful that she doesn’t have the idea… yet. He didn’t know what to do if that thought became reality. 

Eliza turns to address the hall with a smile. “I have decided.” Everyone waited with bated breath for her announcement. Idia squeezed his eyes shut and silently urged her to announce their departure already. 

“Idia and I will not be married anymore. She smiles wide, and clasps her hands together. “However, there will still be a wedding!”

Your smile faded. “What… what do you mean, princess?”

She beams. “To make up for my mistake, I will make sure that Idia and his lover are married tonight!” 

~~

To be continued.

Tagging: @teashopwritingzz @twistedcrumbs 

Well, that was long. To think that I was planning for the story to be a one-shot! Once again, keep an eye out for Part 3. Thank you for reading! 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[harmonizingsunsets]

Polin Week Day 4: Prompt - Jealousy

Touching A Live Wire

After dragging Colin by the arm through her and Eloise's flat with one hand, Penelope slams the door behind them with the other.

She folds her arms across her chest and looks him in the eye for the first time since they left her work party early. He'd looked apologetic, following her wordlessly to the car and remaining silent during the entire drive to the flat.  

"You have five seconds to apologize."

Colin sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Penelope, this is a misunderstanding."

"Five," she starts counting.

"I didn't mean to say it that loud!"

Penelope's lips curl further in anger. "Four."

"Wait, let me explain why I—."

"Three," she interrupts, tapping her foot loudly on the floor.

Colin tilts his head at her. "Pen, this is ridiculous."

"Two."

"Can't we just sit down and—." Pen opens her mouth, her lips forming the word one, but Colin looks alarmed and puts his hands out to stop her. "Fine, you're right. I'm sorry!"

Penelope breathes in relief. Despite the show she just put on, she didn't know what she would've done if she'd reached one. With Penelope's grade three students, she'd send them to the principal's office or write their names in the infraction book. But, Penelope didn't think those forms of punishment would've worked with Colin.

She moves her hands to her hips, pinning her gaze on him. "Sorry about what?"

"I'm sorry that I got a bit carried away."

"A bit carried away?" Penelope scoffs, causing him to flinch in guilt. "Colin, you yelled at my co-worker, "Penelope is too good for you," and then proceeded to knock over the punch bowl!"

"In my defense, whoever placed it there did a poor job. It was teetering on the edge of the table."

Penelope's jaw clenches. "I placed it on the table."

Colin's eyes go wide, adorably so, which she could appreciate more if she weren't so angry at him.

Well, she still does appreciate it a little. She's human, after all.

"Oh, then it was a lovely job!" Colin exclaims, trying to cover himself. "Perfect placement, angels in heaven would want you to be on punchbowl duty at every party."

"You think angels have parties?"

"No, of course not, but they host them. Can you imagine parties in heaven? Unlimited food, great entertainment, and you could dance with Pablo Picasso and Prince at the same time."

"You really think Picasso and Prince would run in the same social circles in—hey, don't distract me," she interrupts herself, pointing accusingly at him while biting back a grin. "I'm mad at you."

Colin takes a step forward, beginning to smirk. "Then why are you smiling?"

"It's an annoying side effect of being around you," Penelope explains grumpily. "But, I'm still angry."

Colin deflates. "I know. You  should be angry at me." He begins to pace, making Penelope worry that he's going to slip as she and Eloise just polished the floor yesterday. "I was way out of line. I shouldn't have yelled at your co-worker. It was disrespectful."

Penelope exhales, her anger beginning to fade, but confusion still causing her head to ache.

"I don't understand. Why did you yell that at him? And why did you spend the whole evening scowling at him and steering me away from him the entire time?"

Colin doesn't respond, looking down at his shoes. His behavior worries her, as Colin's never been one to avoid telling her something. His eyes are always open, full of honesty and understanding. But lately, they've been clouded.

The clouds are unsettling. Penelope misses the sun's warmth, and she can't take the chill anymore, especially because she doesn't know what prompted the weather change.

"You've been so unlike you the past few weeks," Penelope quickly says before she loses her nerve. "You've been off ever since he started working with me at the beginning of this month."

Colin shifts his feet. "No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have! Whenever I bring him up, you completely shut me out, you've avoided my attempts for you to meet him, and I caught you rolling your eyes when I was talking to him on the phone," she lists, furrowing her eyebrows. "What do you have against him?"

"Nothing."

"Colin, tell me."

He shrugs but with tense shoulders. "There's nothing to tell."

Penelope presses on, taking a step closer. "Obviously, you have something against him."

"No, I don't," he says, taking a step back.

She steps forward, feeling a rook on a chessboard that's slowly advancing on his pawn as he moves it backward one square at a time.

"Be honest."

"I am."

"No, you're not. I know you well enough to know when you're lying."

"Penelope…"

"Please, Colin, just tell me what's really got you so—."

"He's into you!" Colin blurts out.

Penelope freezes, her rook stopping one square before her victory.

Colin grimaces at himself, taking a deep breath as if his words knocked the wind out of him.

"What?"

"He's into you," Colin repeats, his voice quieter than before. "I don't like the way he looks at you. He obviously wants something more than friendship."

Penelope knows she shouldn't, but she laughs. "That's absurd."

Colin's expression drops even further, beginning to frown. "Why is that absurd? "

"Because it's me. Why would he be interested in me?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

Penelope narrows her eyes at him. "Colin, don't play dumb."

"I'm not. You're the one that's playing dumb."

"Excuse me?"

"Pen, you're intelligent, beautiful, funny, and kind," Colin describes, slowly raising his hands and placing them on her arms. There's something in his eyes as he speaks so vehemently, a gleam that sends a thrill through her body. "You're the perfect package. Who wouldn't want you?"

Something in his words causes her to pause, reassessing the entire evening. Once she does, seeing a supercut of Colin's reactions towards her co-worker and his behavior around the two of them, her mind reaches one conclusion—a conclusion which quickens her heartbeat.

However, it also inspires a newfound sense of motivation to stop tiptoeing at the edge of the cliff she's been on for years.

But, she has to make sure Colin is truly standing on the same cliff as her before jumping.

Penelope swallows nervously. "Alright, let's say you're right and that I'm the perfect package—."

"You are."

"Ok, let's say that I am," Penelope agrees, taking a deep breath before crafting her following words. "So, why shouldn't he like me?"

"It's not that he shouldn't like you because, of course, he should. But—he shouldn't," Colin blabbers, getting a cute crinkle in between his brows as he struggles to explain himself adequately, which only fuels her wonderful but terrifying theory. "Because… he's—that guy is not right for you. "

Penelope inches closer, so her chest brushes against his body. He intakes a sharp breath, and she has to restrain herself from doing the same thing, knowing the gravity of this moment—of getting this exactly right.

"But I'm the perfect package, so I'm perfect for him, right?"

"No—I mean, yes, he'd be lucky to have you. But that doesn't mean you should be with him." His eyes flicker to her chest, and back up at her eyes, and back to his shoes, his face becoming more red with each passing second. "He—he has a horrible laugh, he likes Star Trek over Star Wars, and he took way more than his share of the cheese platter—."

"Those reasons are inconsequential. You know they are."

Colin opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. So, Penelope raises one of her hands, moving up his arm and to his neck.

The path of Penelope's fingertips creates a live wire, causing his skin to brim with electricity everywhere she touches.  But, it doesn't shock her. Instead, she's part of the electrical current and feels a hum of energy in her palm that his touch provides.

"So, there must be another reason you don't want me to be with him," Penelope continues, forcing her voice not to shake. "Right?"

"No," he shakes his head after a few beats.

She bites her lip, trying to hold on to hope. "Really, there's not one reason?"

"Um…no?"

Penelope sighs, dropping her hands from his neck, feeling stupid. How foolish was she to think ahead of herself like this? Clearly, Colin's answer was not what she predicted. Just like always, she got carried away in romantic notions, as she always seemed to, when Colin’s around.

"Ok," she says, clearing her throat. Colin frowns at the sudden distance, but Penelope can't see his expression as she's closing her eyes to try and banish the inclination to cry. "I know, it's been a long day, so let's forget it. I think I should—."

Penelope doesn't get to answer. Because, suddenly, Colin swoops forward, his hands cupping her cheeks and his lips crashing onto hers.

If touching his skin created a live wire, kissing Colin makes a high electricity voltage, one strong enough to power an entire city.

Colin's lips brush against her softly, but there's a desperate edge to it, one akin to the desperation she feels as she clutches the collar of his jacket and pulls him closer.

When Colin breaks apart for a breath, he rests his forehead on hers.

"I was jealous," he whispers.

Penelope pulls her head back a little so that she can meet his eyes. "What?"

"That's why I didn't want you to be with him, because I want you to be with me," Colin confesses, pursing his lips. "I know that's immature. I'm sorry. You should be with whoever you want to be with, even if it's not me. It's my fault that I was too much of a coward until—Ow!" He abruptly yelps, looking down at his arm, which Penelope just pinched. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Penelope ducks her head, the corners of her lips twitching into a smile. "I was just checking to make sure you weren't an illusion."

Colin smiles in the incandescent way that made Penelope fall in love with him in the first place. He tips her chin up, forcing her to meet his bright eyes filled with an emotion that wraps around her heart and squeezes it.

"I'm real, I'm very much real," Colin assures, his thumb skimming her cheek. "I'll prove it to you."

He closes the distance between them again. But, Penelope is the one to deepen the kiss. She feels a wave of heat run through her at Colin's moan. Also, she experiences a surge of confidence, proud that she was the one to elicit such a glorious sound.

Penelope wraps her arms around her neck, finding it slightly annoying that he's so tall, as she has to lean up on her toes to kiss him. Colin must sense her struggle, quickly amending the issue by swiftly raising her into the air.

But, as her legs sweep up as she's taken into his arms, she accidentally kicks the bowl that holds her and Eloise's apartment keys off of the table.

It crashes loudly onto the floor, the ceramic breaking into multiple tiny pieces.

Colin and Penelope's lips break from each other's, looking down at the mess near her feet. Then, for a moment, neither of them say anything, only staring at the floor.

"Well…at least there was no punch in there this time," Colin says, sidestepping the broken pieces of the bowl.

Penelope laughs, smiling against his lips as she pulls him in for another kiss.

While she has a lot of explaining to do about the dramatic scene the two of them caused when she shows up at work tomorrow and will have to answer Eloise about the broken bowl, she can't find it in herself to care.

When he opens his eyes briefly, looking at her and moving a strand of hair behind her ear, she no longer sees clouds. Instead, she only sees the sun, and she wants to bask in its glow forever.

Penelope knows how idealistic that thought is, but as Colin begins kissing down her neck after moving them to the couch, she thinks it's quite a reasonable notion.

[starshiningsirius]

Happily ever after (Yandere Overblot Vil x reader)

I just want to post my poetry about them at this point.

SPOILERS BELOW FOR NEW CHAPTER

Thank you to @flowerofthemoonworld for the gif

The graceful little prefect as you were titled in his head. Looks were above average in his honest opinion. Your hair would gleam in the sunlight one day as you sat by the base of the tree, and your eyes have a docile look in them that'd make your innocence more apparent. Rook was with you during that time which was when he first saw you up close, before any of this mess with the VDC arose.

When he finally caught the attention of both students, Rook was the first one to speak up.

"Ah, Roi du Poison were you in need of my services?"

"Pardon me to interrupt but I need to borrow my vice dorm head for some important matters."

"Ah, it's fine Vil-senpai. See you later then." With that the two were off to Pomeifore and Vil couldn't help but wonder.

"Rook what were you and the Ramshackle prefect conversing about just now?" He only asked because he knew Rook would occasionally behave in a way that would bring trouble and with that prefect with him more than likely it would.

"Curious? Mademoiselle Trickster and I were discussing the art of poetry of which she partakes in! Isn't it wonderful to write your feelings down with such passion it truly is magnifique!" After that Vil stopped listening and confided himself to his own thoughts.

'Poetry?'

That contradicted all of his thoughts on the prefect. He had caught word around the school about the prefect who hanged with two troublesome first years and always would be caught up in trouble. To hear him say poetry of all things definitely changed his mind a fraction about her overall personality. Not to mention her visage while she sat there in depth with whatever she was writing was one that someone would think brought out of a painting.

When the VDC training camp started he noticed more of her small quirks. She was neat and tidy, even if the whole dorm wasn't clean the used areas were. She was polite asking to help set the table or clean dishes with him. They didn't talk much but he noticed all of them. He definitely misjudged the prefect. She was a nice person. He understood why Epel got along with them. She wasn't a particularly bad influence on him.

There was something that annoyed him though.

The sparkles that would appear in your eyes. Just yesterday you complimented Jamil on his voice not only that but everyone else too. Except him.

He heard you talking once about Epel and what he did was wrong and wasn't right in your eyes. Yet you know nothing about what he's been through!

Just once he would have loved to see his effort noticed by her!

Is that too much to ask?!

He's always made out to be the villain in the stories!

He's never heard you compliment him before not only that but those poems. Rook told him that you write them for people your fond of and say them to that person.

Why hasn't he gotten one yet? Is he not good enough?!

All those sorts of thoughts kept piling up in his head. That is until his prayers were finally answered.

She heard him asking his phone the same question yet again.

"Mira, mira who is the fairest one of them all?"

With the same response he was about a second from crushing the phone in his hands. His anger growing from the lack of acknowledgement of his own hard work for the world to see. That's when she spoke up.

"Villains and heroes are fantasy.

This is reality.

And from what I see, the fairest one of all is beautiful blonde in front of me." It was a short poem, but one that spoke a thousand words despite its simplicity.

He turned to see her determination in her eyes. The spark in them did ignite something in his heart.

"It's not finished yet but I thought you might need to hear it now." She said it with such sincerity it caught him off guard a bit.

Why would she do that for him?

He couldn't answer the question himself but it did strengthen his resolve to over come the challenge and become the fairest. Because he had realized on that very day that he fell in love with you. Maybe he hadn't realized those words were to stop him from going on with the silly goal he yearned for.

The VDC was supposed to be his chance. If he could best him then he could prove himself worthy then he could confess and all would be well when you said yes. That comment on Neige's commercial didn't slip passed his ears. He had to prove he was better and winning would do just that.

But when his plans fell apart and you stood against him with a look of what was slight disappointment, and betrayal mixed into one, he couldn't help but to let his mind fall apart from losing one of the things he had tried so hard to gain.

Neige surpassed him again. He was tired of it, sick of it. And the outcome of it was showing her his most ugliest side, well that just won't do will it?

He'll just have to make you see how lovely he can be for you, how beautiful he is and that will be all of what you see.

Increasing the cloud of smoke within the coliseum more of his former team and managers coughed, trying their best not to inhail the smoke that would bring them their untimely demise. It didn't matter to him those who saw his ugly side needed to die and not tell anyone else.

That's when he swept her away, off her feet into where the backstage room was located. Just like a hero was supposed to. With a wave of his hand the purple smoke disappeared within the area and went back outside to the stage. Her coughs died down and Vil smirked down at the beautiful sight before him of someone he longed for.

"What's wrong my darling doll?" He had a smirk on his face seeing his efforts not be wasted for once felt overwhelmingly good to him.

"I'm sorry you have to suffer like this," he floated toward, her coughing fit was slowly going away and she gazed at him backing away from him in fear.

He noticed this of course what didn't he notice about her.

"Glancing at this ugly side you see before you, it's okay I understand. But don't worry, such a beautiful flower will never have its petals plucked again, for I will make sure of it. You won't have to remember seeing such an ugly side of again." Gently grasping her chin and touched the crown placed on his head aa he started to speak.

"To the first who looks into the wearer's eyes will fall in love until they die." Within the seconds he finished his chant her gaze was no longer of fear.

Nothing but admiration and adoration was visible in her eyes. It was perfect to Vil. Placing a gentle kiss on her lips which she returned eagerly. He had a gentle smile on his face a complete contrast to his current form reeking an aura of darkness and pure evil.

"You won't even remember seeing me, cause now all you'll see is my beauty and mine alone, my darling doll." Seems being a villain was far more worth it than he had actually made it out to be. The results of it were better than trying to play nice. He finally got his happily ever after.

Masterlist

[omgrachwrites]

Beneath The Mask - Jacob Frye

Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader

Summary: When you witness Evie Frye assassinate the Templar Lucy Thorne, the future of London is thrown into disarray and Jacob is left heartbroken.

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff, angst

Words: 1260

A/N: So I’m obsessed with the Frye Twins again so I wanted to write this fic, not quite sure how I feel about it but I hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! Also, can we all agree that Enzo is the perfect face claim for Jacob? I love you all! xxx

The smog of London filled the air – and your chest – turning the world around you grey, a chill ran through the night air causing you to shiver but that was nothing compared to the racing of your heart. Your heart was beating so fast that you were afraid that it would burst out of your chest. Trailing behind Evie, you anxiously bit at your lip as you noticed how tense her body was.

As you rode the small boat over the murky waters of the Thames, you tried calling out to Evie but your voice got lost in the howling wind. You glanced over at Evie’s face and even after assassinating Lucy Thorne there was no sign of regret in her eyes. However, when she looked over at you, her hazel eyes hardened and it was difficult to believe that this was the same woman – your best friend – who had joked with you as you shared a pint the night before.

“Evie,” you started, feeling the guilt close around your heart as you neared the Frye’s train.

A furious look crossed Evie’s freckled face as she whipped around to look at you, “when were you ever going to tell us?!” she waved her arms around like a mad woman. You sighed and fiddled with your fingers as you looked at your feet upon the filthy floor, “you were never going to tell us were you?” Evie whispered and you looked back up at her, her face was impassive, she was good at hiding her feelings when she was hurt, “you’re supposed to be my friend.”

“Evie, how was I supposed to tell you? Please, let me explain,” you begged, your heart feeling heavy as your eyes filled with tears and you reached out for her. Your heart splitting when she backed away. It wasn’t supposed to end up this way.

“I should kill you right now!”

“That’s a good point, why haven’t you? You’ve had plenty of chances, you could have killed me along with Lucy, or on the way back here.”

Evie rolled her eyes like the reason was obvious, “because Jacob has feelings for you, you know that and if I killed you there would be no way that Jacob would believe me about who you really are. I’d lose him forever, so you’re going to tell Jacob the truth, if you don’t then I will. He can decide what to do with you, I’m done with you,” she snarled before retreating into the train.

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, you were very worried about what was to come, “what the hell is the matter with Evie? Other than the usual,” Jacob, Evie’s twin brother – and your lover – chuckled as he met you on the train’s platform.

His handsome face made your heart stop and a wave of sadness washed over you as you glanced up at him. The smile on Jacob’s face dropped.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, his hazel eyes scanning over your face as he brushed his lips against yours.

His concern almost made you cry but you managed to smile as you rested your hands on his firm chest, “we um need to talk, there’s something that I need to tell you,” you hesitating, clearing your throat, “can we go for a drink?”

Jacob raised a scarred eyebrow as he gestured to the inside of the train, “you realise that we have a small pub right here on the train where the beer is free?” he chuckled.

When you told Jacob the truth, you didn’t want to be on a train surrounded by Rooks and Assassins, “I want to be alone with you.”

Jacob grumbled and complained but eventually, he agreed and you found a small pub in White Chapel. Jacob took a sip of his beer and his handsome face was full of worry as he looked over at you, “really, are you alright, Y/N?”

With an aching heart, you leaned over the table to kiss him gently, he deserved to know, no matter how scared you were. When you sat back, he took your hands in his big ones, “I saw Evie assassinate Lucy Thorne,” you sighed, taking a huge swallow of your beer.

Jacob frowned as he rubbed his thumb over your hand, “why were you there? You’re a Rook, not an assassin.”

You closed your eyes, this was it, “I was there because,” you hesitated, “I’m a Templar, Crawford Starrick is my father.”

At once, Jacob’s face changed, he dropped your hand and went for his blade, quick as a flash, you slammed Jacob’s hand down on the table, making him drop his weapon, “I need to explain, let me explain.”

His face faltered slightly before his lip curled with disgust and he snarled at you, “you have 2 minutes, better make it good or I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“When you and your sister began killing off his Templars, he started to get scared, I was over in America on a job so he sent for me. To find you and Evie,” you bit your lip, “you two are too trusting, it wasn’t hard to join the Rooks, nobody knows who I am. Except for my father and his employees.”

“So you lied to us? Betrayed us? You’ve failed in your mission because my sister and I are still kicking,” hurt flashed in his eyes before they were clouded over by anger once more and you hated yourself for hurting him.

“Jacob,” you reached out to him and he let you take his hand, a stark contrast to his sister, but maybe he was still in shock, “I was biding my time, I didn’t want to be too hasty, and then I fell in love with you. My father made out like you were my enemies but you just want to create a better London, I was so blinded by my father. The night that I stopped being a double agent for my father was the morning you took me to watch the sunset on the top of Big Ben, that was the when I fell in love with you Jacob. I love you. If I wasn’t at the White Tower, Lucy Thorne would have grown suspicious, I had no choice.”

Jacob sat back, letting go of your hand and he drained the last of his beer before slamming the glass back down on the table and throwing a couple of gold coins into the middle of the table, “that’s a nice story, Y/N, and I must admit, you had me and Evie fooled. But it doesn’t change what you are, who you are, you’re still a Templar. So, what you are going to do is get your things from the train and take a ship back to America, I never want to see you again, ever,” he sniffed, his eyes glistening with tears as he got up from the table and stalked out of the pub.

Tears streamed down your face and over your lips as you watched the most beautiful man walk away from you, you should have known that Evie would have come after Lucy Thorne. Your father had ruined everything. Your heart was broken and you were one for doing crazy things when you were hurt, so you had to do it. You created the plan, the plan to kill your father, it would take the kill away from the Frye twins but it would be the best plan for London. For everyone. For Jacob.

[hangovercurse]

If You Ever Leave Me Again

After a conversation with his new girlfriend, Colson realizes he never truly lost feelings for you.

Request: “Can you make an Mgk imagine where he leaves the reader for Megan? But then him and Megan both realize they don't work? So, Megan tries to help him get back with the reader.”

Colson Baker X Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I don’t have a ton of experience writing Megan so I’m sorry if anything is out of character

Word Count: 2467

masterlist

Standing in the crowded club was the last thing you wanted to be doing at the moment. Your friend had convinced you to go out, “you can’t keep moping around. You’ve gotta get out again.” So, you let her pull you off your couch, dress you up, and drag you to the nearest club.

There were worse ways to be spending your night, sure, but you weren’t into the shitty music, the smell of beer and vomit, or the sweat drenched bodies of the men around you. And you certainly were not into watching your ex-boyfriend make out with his new girlfriend.

You hadn’t noticed them when you first walked in, too preoccupied by the drinks being shoved down your throat by your friends. But when you saw the blond hair you so adored, you couldn’t look away.

His voice rang clearly through your head as you remembered the last conversation you’d had with him. It was late one evening, his voice muffled over the phone as you tried to hide the tears from your voice. You’d known something was going on, he’d gotten distant lately, but you weren’t expecting this.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. But I really think I’m in love with her.”

He swore that nothing had happened between them yet, but he couldn’t keep things up with you knowing how he felt about her.

But you’d known the minute he left that you would never get him back. She was Megan fucking Fox for god’s sake. She was gorgeous and kind and talented and everything you felt that you weren’t. There was no competition, she had already won.

It felt like fate was trying to rub their happiness in your face. The first night you go out in the few weeks since your breakup, since you’d gotten your heart absolutely shattered, and he’s at the same club with her.

You were in the process of convincing yourself to look away from the pair when his head turned ever so slightly, bright blue eyes meeting yours. He looked caught at first, guilty of a crime that hadn’t been committed. But then he relaxed, sending you a smile.

You tried to return it but couldn’t muster anything more than a small lift of the corners of your mouth. You looked away, eyes scanning the crowd for someone you knew, anyone else. When you turned back to look in his direction, you caught the pair in a deep, heated kiss. The sight made your stomach drop, tears forming in your eyes. You pushed your way through the crowd, making your way to the exit. You had seen enough.

 A few months later, Colson and Megan were arguing constantly. They’d been angry at each other more than they’d been happy for the past while. Colson couldn’t quite figure out what had triggered it, but suddenly everything started to feel wrong with Megan. When he wrote songs, he found himself writing about his memories of you.

Megan could put the pieces together easily; Colson hadn’t been the same since that night in the club. He was trying, she’d give him that, but she knew he still harbored feelings for you, even if he wouldn’t admit it. She heard the songs he was writing but the romantic memories weren’t hers; they were of you. But she still held out hope that he’d get over it.

But after overhearing one of his songs while he was playing the demo for Rook over the phone, she knew she’d never truly be his. The song was beautiful, describing a relationship that was pure gold, one that outmatched any other relationship. As much as she wanted the song to be for her, she couldn’t convince herself.

“I think you need to break up with me.” She told him one day after he’d gotten back from the studio.  She sat on the edge of his bed as he walked into the room from the bathroom.

He gave her a look of confusion, leaning on the doorway. “What are you talking about?”

She looked down, letting out a sigh. “We’ve been trying to pretend that this is working for months now, but it’s getting old.” Colson moved closer to her, kneeling down in front of her and reaching to hold her hands, which she moved away. “You can’t love me when you still love her.”

Colson looked shocked; he was genuinely confused as to what she was talking about. “Still love who? Y/N? We’ve been done for months now. I don’t-“ He cut himself off, truthfully not able to say that he didn’t love you out loud.

Megan looked up at him, a sad smile on her face. “You do. Even if you don’t realize it, I can see it. You still love her, and I don’t think you can stop.”

Colson grew frustrated, wondering where this was coming from, “Megan. I want you.” His voice was firm.

She shook her head, “Wanting someone and loving someone aren’t the same thing.”

Colson scoffed, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “Then I love you. Okay? Not her. I told you, me and Y/N are done, its over.”

Megan laughed sadly, still seated on the bed. Colson noticed the bag sitting behind her, filled with the things she’d started keeping at his house. “You don’t love me. Maybe you want to, but it’s not something you can force. And it’s okay. Truthfully, I don’t think we’re as right for each other as we thought we were.”

The man looked at her sadly, “I don’t still love her. I can’t still love her.”

“Colson, it’s okay. I’m not upset and I can’t hold this against you.” She reached out instinctively to rub his arm but pulled it away swiftly before her skin made contact. “But I know you still love her. I can hear her in your songs, in the way you act.”

“I don’t write songs about her, Megan. I write songs about you.”

The woman chuckled, “no, you don’t. Not really.” She paused, taking a deep breath, “we haven’t been the same, Colson. Not for a while. Not since you saw her at the club that night.”

Colson moved closer to her, trying once again to grasp her hands but to no avail. “I can’t love her. I love you. I have to love you.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing, “because if I love her than I’ll just be alone.”

Megan tilted her head, “if you really love her, you should get her back. And if she really loves you, she’ll take you back.” Colson shook his head, sitting down on the bed beside her.

“Please don’t leave me.” He begged her, staring into her eyes.

She smiled softly up at him, “go get her back. You’ll thank me later.” She grabbed her bag and stood up, making her way towards the bedroom door.

“She won’t take me back.” He called to her, sadness in his voice and a tinge of guilt.

“Make her.” Megan called, before leaving the house forever.

 Later that same day, you got a knock on your front door. You were in the midst of cooking dinner, ingredients lining your counters as you prepared to create the perfect tacos. When you reached the door your eyebrows furrowed, finding Megan on the other side. You hadn’t spoken to her much, at the few events where you had run into Colson. Truthfully, you had no idea how she’d gotten your address or why she’d shown up at your door.

Nevertheless, you put on the best smile you could muster, “Megan, hi! What’s up?” You opened the door and motioned for her to come inside, never one to be inhospitable.

She stepped inside a bit awkwardly, taking a deep breath. “I was hoping we could talk about Colson.” Your heart stopped in your chest. You and he had only just gotten back into the routine of being distant friends, and you hoped she didn’t think you were trying to steal him back.

You nodded, walking further into your house, and leading her into the living room. She continued, following your lead as you took a seat on the couch. “I realize this seems strange coming from me, but I think he’s still in love with you.”

Her words rang in your ears, mind going blank. “He-he can’t. He doesn’t still- He’s with you.” You spoke, your voice faltering with every word.

She shook her head, “he wanted to be with me, but he never really stopped loving you. I don’t think he even knew it until I told him.”

You rolled her words around in your head, trying to find a response. “You know I would never… pursue him,” you struggled with the words in your mouth, “not while he’s with you.”

She let out a small laugh, “don’t worry about that. I ended things between us. He’s all yours now.”

You stuttered a reply, “I don’t- he doesn’t.” You took a breath, “he left me. For  you. He doesn’t want me; he’ll never want me if he can have you.”

“And he’ll never be in love with me as long as he’s in love with you.” She responded, eye catching your own in a strong, affirmative gaze.

“Why aren’t you angry? If I found out the guy I was with was in love with another women- well, when I found out the guy I was with was in love with another woman- I was furious and depressed. I barely left my apartment for weeks. But you’re here, trying to fix our broken relationship?”

She smiled, hand reaching out to lay on top of your own. “I thought Colson and I were made for each other, but I was wrong. We both were. And I feel horrible about the way he ended things with you, because I was the reason he did it. So, if I can fix this, it would make me feel a lot better.”

You sighed, sending her a smile. “Thank you.” You spoke softly, almost whispering.

She nodded, standing up to leave. “You’re welcome. Just promise me one thing.” You hummed in response, “make sure he’s happy.”

“I will.” You replied, watching as the woman you’d despised for the past 4 months walked out of your door.

 You’d never gotten back to your tacos, instead sitting on your couch for the next hour, flipping your phone in your hands and trying to decide whether you should text him or not.

Your decision was made for you when a text sent vibrations through your phone. His name read out on your screen with the message Are you home?

You responded hastily, your heart beating faster at the realization of what might happen. Yes.

I’m coming over.

There were a few possible outcomes of tonight. One, he comes over and confesses he’s still in love with you, or two, he comes over and screams at you for making Megan leave him. You prepared yourself for either situation, trying to keep from shaking in anticipation, both excitement and nerves.

He didn’t even knock when he arrived, walking through your door and straight into your living room where you sat. The moment his eyes found you, the air left his lungs. He’d spent the last few hours trying to sort through everything Megan had said, and he’d come upon one realization; that she was right.

“I’m still in love with you.” He blurted out, never one for subtlety.

You took in a sharp breath, eyes meeting his. “I’m still in love with you.” You repeated his words back to him, a nervous expression on your face.

He nodded, taking a seat on the couch next to you, turning so he was facing you. “I made a mistake choosing Megan. I’ve only ever loved you and I was an idiot for leaving you.”

You bit your lip, nodding slowly, “yeah, you were.”

“I’ve been writing these songs about you and I’ve been thinking about you constantly. And Megan and I haven’t been doing so great and I kept trying to figure out why, but then Megan figured it out before me.”

“And she told you that you’re still in love with me because you’re too much of an idiot to figure it out yourself.” You said to him, a knowing smile on your face.

He chuckled, “in nicer language, but yes.”

“Yeah, I know. She came over an hour ago and told me that you broke up.” You said, looking down at your phone. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do for the past hour until you texted.”

“She came here?” He asked, eyebrows knit in confusion.

You nodded, “yep. I can see why you liked her so much, she’d very in tune with emotions.” You laughed at your own half-joke, holding some truth behind it.

“I never loved her like I love you. I think I thought I did, or I tried to, but she’s not you, and she’s never gonna be you.” He spoke, bringing a shy smile to your lips. “And after everything I’ve done, I know I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve to even be here right now.” He said, looking down at his hands.

You reached out, grasping his large hands in your own, making him look back up to meet your eyes, trying to read your expression. “Would you take me back if I asked?” He moved closer to you, leg rubbing against your own.

"That depends,” you whispered, head leaning in slightly.

He matched your movements, lips ghosting over yours, “on what?”

You smirked, “you gotta ask to find out.”

He let out a chuckle through his nose, the air hitting your face. “Y/N Y/L/N, would you fall in love with me again?”

You leaned in, connecting your lips. You missed the feeling his lips gave you, like electricity running through your veins. His hands held your waist gingerly, afraid if he grabbed you too harshly you would pull away.

Your lips moved together slowly, beautifully. Even when you pulled away there was a sense of grace in the actions. “On one condition,” you whispered, “if you ever leave me again, you’re never coming back.”

He nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips, one hand moving to cup your jaw. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “Trust me, I’m not stupid enough to make that mistake twice.”

You hummed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I was gonna make tacos if you want to stay.”

He chuckled, pressing a peck to your lips before tackling you into the couch, arms around your waist. “I’d love that.” You laid in his arms, basking in the feeling you hadn’t felt in so long.

[amchara]

In Cold Blood - (Whumptober prompts 4, 7, 22)

Kit Herondale, Belial, Sammael, Tessa Gray, Jem Carstairs, Mina Carstairs

The Princes of Hell are looking for the perfect pawn and Johnny Rook's protection spells performed on Kit as a baby aren't enough to save him... (Or- my take on this thread about possessed!Kit in TWP)

Prompts: Taken hostage (Prompt Four), helplessness (Prompt Seven) and Demon (Prompt 22) for Whumptober

TW: offscreen violence, demon possession?

The two demons watched as the teenage boy shifted uneasily and cried out in his sleep. “No Ty… not if you do this, not if…” he fell silent. Then his body locked and stiffened. He called out in horror and despair-- “LIVVY!”

Sammael looked appreciatively at the boy’s long limbs, which, despite their coltish appearance, had nascent muscles- the promise of a powerful warrior if trained properly. And his face was fair, framed by golden curls and a strong jaw, and despite his nightmares, sweet and open. All the better for seduction and persuading the unwary to trust him, Sammael thought.

“Well done, brother- I think he will do well for our plans,” he said, adjusting the portal window so that he and Belial could spy further into the room.

Belial smiled. “He’s not of my line but his protection spells are weak- they were not completed properly. And there’s a hint-” he sniffed. “A hint of dark magic around him- that should speed the possession.”

He started forward, clawed hand descending towards the opened portal to draw the shadowhunter boy into his realm. But his brother’s arm thumped across his chest, stopping him.

“You have him for three days,” Sammael reminded him. “And then you must allow our brothers to take their turns.”

“You should find your own,” Belial said, a sulky note entering his voice. “I want this one.”

“Most shadowhunters have intact protection spells so you know that would be challenging. Also, this one…” Sammael said, watching the boy carefully. “His faerie blood will do nicely for the final stage of our plan. You must share.”

Belial tossed his head, moonlight glinting off his immaculate dark hair. “Understood,” he said shortly. His grey eyes glowed. “No matter- I should be able to accomplish my goals by that time. Starting with my plans for the inhabitants of this house.”

-

Kit opened his eyes, blinking as he took in his surroundings. His limbs felt oddly heavy and his mind felt unfocused, and he tried to shake his head to clear it. Strange. He couldn’t quite manage it.

He was in Mina’s room, dressed in normal street clothes and standing by the door, hand resting lightly on her dollhouse.

Mina was awake and sitting upright in her bed. But something was wrong, Kit realised. She was watching him with a wary look, her dark eyes solemn and unsure as she huddled in her covers.

“Where’s Kit?” she asked, her voice small and tentative.

What was Mina talking about?

To his horror, Kit could feel his face move into a rictus of a smile and he walked forward even as she shrank back from him on the bed.

Was he sleepwalking? Was this a waking nightmare?

No. The voice was low and seductive, caressing across his mind. You’re under my control now, Kit Herondale.

Mina screamed as he grabbed her.

But suddenly he was the one screaming, as his hands burned uncontrollably and he dropped her, her light yellow magic trailing away like smoke wisps. She scrambled away and the fear on her face sent a stab of pain through his heart. The… presence, whatever, whoever it was seemed to find delight in this, almost broadcasting its feelings directly into Kit’s mind.

There was a thundering noise in the hallway and Jem and Tessa burst into the room. Jem was an incongruous but deadly sight holding a long broadsword and clothed in only an undershirt and tight white underwear, while Tessa, despite the late hour and wild hair, projected an air of sharp competence as she held her hands up, blue flames dancing between her fingers.

They took in the sight of their two children.

Tessa was the one who understood it first, a look of shock and dismay crossing her face. “Kit?” she asked, slowly.

“Hello, daughter,” it said, the words leaving his mouth in an unnatural way, and Kit could feel a cold amusement from the being currently controlling him.

“Belial,” Tessa whispered, and Jem let out a muffled gasp but his grip on the sword didn’t waver.

Panic rose through Kit as he considered Tessa’s response. He tried to push, strain his muscles, blink his eyes. Anything to regain control over his body that was being controlled by a freaking Prince of Hell.

Nothing worked.

“I know we said we were even, the last time we spoke-” and Kit could feel his focus switch to include Jem as well. “But I’m afraid I… lied.” He gestured down his body. “And it was rather careless of you to have left such shoddy protection spells on another of your children.”

Tessa narrowed her eyes. “Let him go.” She raised her hands again.

“Or what?” His arms crossed, and he leaned casually against the bedside table. “You’re hardly about to attack me away, not while I’m wearing this.”

And Kit thought he would do a million chores, and a thousand tough training sessions, if it meant he was never again referenced as a demon fashion accessory.

Tessa’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly towards Jem. It was the smallest of gestures and if he wasn’t so aware of their tiny tells, having lived for three years with them, he wouldn’t have realised that they had just shared a plan. Unfortunately, Kit realised with growing horror, as his hand suddenly raised in a familiar gesture, Belial seemed to have direct access to his very thoughts.

I do indeed. Thank you

Jem lunged towards the bed, arms outstretched to scoop up Mina. But he was intercepted by Belial taking control of Kit’s powers - the same powers he and Tessa and Jem had spent hours carefully training, safely- and knocking him with a giant invisible force, slamming Jem into the opposite wall of the nursery, where he lay crumpled but still conscious, eyes wide with pain.

Tessa snarled and with a couple elegant gestures, a crying Mina flew into the air, landing safely into her arms. Mina burrowed her head into her mother’s shoulder.

“I do need both your children, Tessa, my darling.” Kit sauntered over to her but stopped short as a solid, invisible wall stood in between them.

“Over my dead body,” she told him, her eyes furious as she stroked Mina’s back protectively.

“How very dramatic,” Kit heard himself drawl, looking down at his fingernails in a bored manner.

There was a growing sense of a burning, hungry power building in him and Kit summoned all his willpower to fight Belial if he tried to hurt Tessa or Mina or Jem again.

I won’t let you hurt my family.

He could feel the demon scoff at him, as he stepped away. With a few sharp gestures, he outlined a door frame, and reality bent and shivered for a moment before a doorway opened. On the other side, Kit could see city lights and hear cars honking, as a balmy breeze drifted through.

“I’ll go have fun with this one first, and we can return to discuss your daughter later,” Belial told her as he stepped through, easily sidestepping Jem’s pained attempt to try and tackle him.

“Kit!” Tessa’s cry was suddenly cut off as the doorway winked close.

Kit raged and swore and drew on every scrap of knowledge he knew- Shadowhunter and Downworlder alike- but it did no good. He was powerless and worst of all, as he walked down the busy urban road, he felt insignificant, a feeling that was highlighted by Belial’s next words to him.

Oh, you’re still here. I don’t think I need you around for this part. In fact, I think for this first time- it’ll be more fun if you’re not.

The next time Kit returned to consciousness, he was lying in an alley somewhere, his head throbbing and it felt like a bucket of paint had been thrown over his face and body, his clothes tacky with it. But instinctively Kit knew it wasn’t paint. He looked down.

There was blood on his hands.

So. Much. Blood.

-

(Yes there will probably be more to this story - this was too much fun to write. Which Prince of Hell takes control next?? Also, am thinking a Kit / Ty reunion while Kit is still possessed... )

Taglist: @sandersgrey @dontmindmyshadowhunting @shadowhunting-hooligans @of-same-steel-and-temper @hardlymatters @storm-of-ruination @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @roundtom

Previous Whumptober fics:

Prompt One - "You Have To Let Go" (James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs, Matthew Fairchild)

Prompt Two - Choking/Gagged (Dru Blackthorn, Ash Morgenstern, Ty Blackthorn, Kit Blackthorn, L.A. Institute inhabitants)

Prompt Three - "Who Did This To You?" (Cristina Rosales, Mark Blackthorn, Kieran Kingson)

(link to prompts)

[mobagehelllocal]

“do you even lift, bro?”

Not exactly a prompt but just a suggestion where the dorm leaders fem s!o wants to carry them bridal style? Maybe they got injured or maybe she just wanted to show her strength? How will everyone react? Thanks a lot :) -- From @blackstrawberrynightmare​.

A/N: Thank you so much for this! This was a very fun break from the “holding the world” series ahahah~ I enjoyed it a lot and I think it sort of became crack? I hope this makes everyone who reads it laugh at least once! Please tell me what you think~

other versions: ver i (this), ver ii (dire, divus, ashton), ver iii (leech twins, jamil, epel, rook, lilia)

--

“Bet I could bench press you.” 

“I beg your pardon?” Riddle turned to you with the most incredulous face ever, and you giggled in response. “What is... a bench press?” Riddle struggled, his expression looked as if he was thinking back onto all your conversations--he tried to remember if you’ve ever mentioned this... bench press before.

“It’s basically when I hold you like this” you opened your palms facing upright, “and then I lift you like this--” you proceeded to move your hands up and down. 

“Absolutely not.”

“But Riddle!” you pouted, and he narrowed his eyes in turn, his arms crossed. 

“I refuse to be... bench pressed.” He pressed his lips tight together, and you sighed, disappointed.

“One day I’ll convince you.”

“That day will never come.” 

“Then next time, I won’t ask for permission.” 

“You--” Riddle glared, his cheeks red. “--never mind.” he scoffed, as he looked away. “What makes you think you can carry me anyways?” 

“Ah, but I can!” 

“I don’t believe it.” Unfortunately for Riddle, you were waiting for something like that.

“Then let me prove my strength~” 

“What are you doing? Why are you bending down--Wait, don’t you dare--guh!” 

You proceeded to wrap your arms behind his knees, and around his back. With barely a blink, you swept him up into your arms. 

Riddle gaped when you barely flinched. While Riddle was small, he wasn’t exactly light. Or at least, that’s what he liked to think. You looked down at him, and wiggled your eyebrows.

“Have I made you fall in love, prince of my heart?” You delighted in the embarrassed red flush on his cheeks. He began to struggle in your arms, but you held on pretty tight--enough that the most he could do was attempt to push you away with his hands.

“Let me down,” his brow furrowed, and from embarrassed red he slowly turned to angry red, “this instant.” 

“No way, this is too fun.” you giggled, as he struggled harder in response. 

“If you don’t I’ll--” he stopped short, realizing he really didn’t have leverage against you. He couldn’t exactly use his unique magic on you. You grinned cheekily at him, and he crossed his arms grumpily in response. “... Since when were you so strong anyways?”

“Always?” 

“You didn’t say anything.” he pointed out and you cocked your head to the side in thought. 

“I guess it’s like you with your magic. You’ve always had it, you’ve always been good at it.” you shrugged, “it’s normal to me. So I never thought it was something that needed explaining?” He sighed in response, he could understand your point after all. 

“... When will you let me down?” 

“Never.” you cuddled close and his blush that had originally calmed down--intensified. 

“--!” he sighed, before he let you. It should be fine as long as nobody walked in.

“Prefect, Riddle--” Cater walked in, only for his eyes to widen, and his hand snapped up immediately to take a photo.

“Cater!” Riddle looked murderous, and he tried to leap out of your arms to grab the third year who laughed nervously, and hesitantly stepped back. “[Name]! Let go of me right now!” 

“Sorry, can’t do Riddle,” you giggled. “Cater! Send me that photo, okay~?” 

“[Name]!” 

“There’s a reason I adore you Prefect!” Cater laughed, as he snapped more photos. 

“What’s going on?” Trey ducked into the room, and paused at the sight. Riddle sputtered, as Trey immediately turned around to snicker. 

“Cater I want those photos too--” 

“YOU ALL--!”

--

“Leona!” you tried to call the man’s attention, but he only turned away, his tail thumped heavily on the ground.

“No.” 

“But you need to get to class!” you protested, “don’t you have a super important thing today?” 

“Hngh... zzz...” 

“Hey! Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!” The lack of a response made your eye twitch. “Fine... if that’s what you’re gonna do--then I’ll have to resort to--” 

When there was a sudden silence, Leona smirked, the moment you approached him--he would drag you down to the ground with him, and quiet you down by--

That is until he felt your small, delicate hands dig underneath his back then legs and within a moment--he hissed in surprise, and you smirked in response--you carried him in your arms, bridal style. 

“-carrying you.” You snickered at him. “how do you like it, Leona?” 

You’ve never seen him so surprised. His eyes were wide, his pupils huge (’like a cat’s!’ you couldn’t help but inwardly squeal), his ears were flattened against his head, his tail was actually still--and from the little of it that you could see of it--it seemed like the fur was standing upright too. 

‘One day,’ you solemnly swore to yourself, ‘I’ll surprise him by, I dunno--bench pressing him with one hand so I can take a photo with the other hand.’  

Leona just stared at you, his mouth slightly agape. 

Sure, Afterglow Savanna was filled with incredibly strong women. However no one has ever attempted to carry Leona. Primarily because he wouldn’t let anyone--and also because his pride wouldn’t let him. He knew that women outside of Afterglow Savanna weren’t the same as the women within the kingdom. So he had figured you wouldn’t be able to carry him...

Give him a moment, his pride was just damaged, in the same moment you’ve suddenly become all the more attractive to him. 

‘In the culture of his kingdom, especially for the royal family--what made a great wife, is a strong woman. Here you were, proving just how perfect you were for him.’  He could feel the heat rise to his face upon that realization, and he struggled to calm his heart down--fervently hoping that nothing showed on his face.  

“Hello? Leona?” He was still super still in your arms, and you shrugged. “Ah well, since you aren’t resisting, this will be easier for me.” So you began to carry him out of the garden. At your sudden movement, he twitched in your arms, and tried to get off. Unfortunately for him, being able to lift a man of his height and weight also meant that you had a pretty strong grip.

“Nope.” you shook your head. “You wouldn’t get up earlier, so I’ll just carry you to class.” 

“Let me go He-” he paused, ‘Could he still call you herbivore, given you’ve proven you’re not a herbivore?’ 

At his sudden, uncharacteristic hesitance, you glanced down at him. Wow, he’s being really weird today. 

“Leona... are you okay?” He opened his mouth to respond, when his ears twitched, and he struggled harder in your arms. 

“He--[Name], put me down, right now.” he practically hissed. 

“What? No way! You’re clearly not enjoying this, therefore I am.” ‘Hah! Take that for all the heartbeats I wasted on you, you big tease!’ He growled in response, about to snap back when--

“Is that... Leona?” You blinked, head turned in the direction of the voice, while Leona slackened in your arms, and groaned. “with [Name] carrying him? Shishishi!” 

“Oh! Hi Ruggie~ Jack~ I’m off to bring your dorm leader to his class~” 

Ruggie was practically bent forward, as he both cried and laughed. Meanwhile Jack just stared at you with the widest eyes, and biggest open mouth you’ve seen on him.

“Hahahah! Leona--being carried like a bride! Wait I need a photo!” Ruggie snickered as he pulled out his phone.

“Oi! Ruggie! Don’t you dare--!”

“Oho, I see you’re a hyena of culture Ruggie! How do you want me to pose?”

“Well if you can just--” 

“You herbi-[Name]--don’t encourage him!” Leona yelled, clearly exasperated. At the corner of his eye, he noticed that Jack’s shoulders were shaking. The student had desperately covered his mouth--trying to hide his own laugh.

‘Great,’ he scowled. ‘they’ll never let me live this down.’  

--

“You’re doing great Azul!” Jamil yelled, with a very wide, self-satisfied smirk on his face as the trembling octopus merman flew into the air on his broom. Azul would’ve shaken his fist at the snake if he wasn’t clinging onto the broom as hard as he was. ‘Is he that mad about the burn cure incident in our alchemy class?’ Azul thought, but the broom wobbled and his grip tightened on it in response.

“Unbelievable these land dwellers,” Azul cursed underneath his breath. “I just learnt how to walk on two legs last school year and now they want me to fly? They want a merman in the air? Absurd. Complete savages the lot of them.”

Now when it came to magic—the most important thing is being able to believe in your ability to do it. Be it believing in your ability to manipulate elements, or believing in your ability to conjure something out of thin air.

This applied to flying too.

Unfortunately for the octopus... he was so distracted as he cursed in the language of the seas—he forgot about the fact he was flying.

Hence his broom started to wobble.

He only realized the problem when his broom started to jerk around.

“Oh—“ he let out more curses in his native language and closed his eyes, “ok you can do this Azul. I believe I can fly! I believe I can fly—“

But he didn’t really so—his broom grew to be even crazier with his movements.

“Hey! Azul! Open your eyes! Calm down!” Jamil yelled out. Caught up in his own panic, Azul didn’t hear him. 

“I believe I can flyIbelieveIcanflyIbelieveIcanfly--” Azul chanted, but when he opened his eyes and saw how high he was-- 

“Ah carp, I’m gonNA DIE!” Azul shrieked, and shut his eyes tight--which led to him getting flung off his broom.

“Oh scarab.”  Jamil swore as he tried to run after the free falling octopus, only to stumble to a stop when he saw--

“Gotcha!” 

One moment he was free falling, then the next moment he’s caught, and pressed close to your chest. Azul’s eyes flew open in response to hearing your voice. You looked down at him with a wide smile.

You were carrying him--like a bride. Your hold was gentle, but firm--and the smile you sent him was tinted with worry--but it turned to amusement with the way he gaped at you. 

Azul’s eyes glistened, and you’re pretty sure he would start crying any second now if you didn’t immediately distract him. You didn’t want him to be sad after all. 

“You rang for a Princess Charming?~” you tossed in a wink, and he promptly turned red in response. 

“You--ga--wha--” Azul gaped at the fact you carried him in your arms with ease. 

“[Surname]!” you looked up to see that the rest of Azul’s second year class had ran up to you too. You easily hiked Azul up in your arms (which he yelped at), as you stood upright. Ashton Vargas looked at you with glitter in his eyes, and you took an involuntary step back at his expression.

“That! WAS! IMPRESSIVE!” Professor Vargas boomed, “That catch was magnificent! You barely stumbled! No recoil at all!” 

“I’m really strong.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I never really had a problem with doing physical stuff. I just braced myself properly to catch Azul.” you held out your arms, where the octopus, still completely bewildered, lay--still slack from the shock. 

“Since when could you do that, [Surname]?”

“I always could...?” you shrugged your shoulders in response. “I just never needed to use it.” you laughed awkwardly. 

“Is Ashengrotto alright?” Vargas looked at the merman, and tried to look at his expression. 

“I think I should take him to the infirmary.” you said, “he’s still in shock.” 

“Right, right. You do that.” Vargas stroked his beard. “Carry on. I’ll have Viper update Ashengrotto if he misses out on anything.” Jamil flinched, and shot a guilty glance at Azul then at you. You shot him a smile, in response and mouthed that you’d tell Azul he was sorry. Jamil looked relieved. 

“Sure Professor.” with that you turned around, and relaxed your hold on Azul.

“...How’d you know?” 

“Hm?” 

“... That I didn’t want to be seen... like that.” 

“You mean crying?” You gave him a love filled smile that made his heart beat even faster. “Well the answer is simple. I am your girlfriend after all.” His face turned red again. 

“Thank you.” Azul sighed, “I feel like you saved me twice today.” 

“And I’ll keep saving you whenever you need me.” That gentle grin--full of your adoration for him is enough for his blush to darken.

“Please put me down.” 

“Oh no, I refuse.” you squeezed. “I think you’re cute in my arms~” 

“I want my octopus pot right now.” 

Extra:

“Oh my.” 

“Carp.” Azul swore, as he saw the Leech twins up ahead. Floyd let out a happy gasp, before he ran right over.

“Ooooh! I want to be carried too--!” 

“Wait Floyd--don’t just jump--AH!” 

“Oh my, my.” Jade snickered to himself as you easily caught Floyd, but started to stumble.

“Jade!” wailed Azul from underneath the laughing Floyd.

“Woah! Shrimpy strong!” 

“Don’t move too much! Ah! Wait! My balance--” 

--

As you entered the Scarabia Dorms to visit Kalim, you noticed a commotion. More specifically--a bunch of animals going wild. You also quickly noticed Jamil off to the side, hissing out sharp commands. 

You ran up to him, and waited for him to acknowledge you. Which he does, easily enough.

“Ah, Prefect, you’re here.” he had a long suffering expression on his face, and you tilted your head.

“Someone forgot to lock up all the animals this morning so...” he sighed. “We’re trying to calm them down.” 

“Ah, I see.” you looked around, “any way I can help?” 

“You don’t have to, please sit with Kalim.” he gestured to an empty chair. Something in your stare must’ve been telling, because he visibly paled and went: 

“He... he’s not there.... is he?” he said in a very weak and pitiful tone. 

“No he’s not.” you said, as gently as possible. “Would you like me to help?” 

“Yes please.” 

“Alright.” you slammed your fist against your open palms. “He’s likely wherever it’s most difficult.” Jamil nodded, before he made a very deadpanned expression.

‘Ah.’ 

“... He’s with the elephants.” you both said in unison, and you both rushed off in the direction. 

--

You find him easy. 

There he was, in the middle of the path, faced away from the approaching elephants. 

“Jamil! [Name]!” he waved--WAVED! All cheeky too! While in the midst of danger. Jamil looked like he was having a heart attack, so you quickly darted to Kalim.

“Wait! [Name]!” you quickly scooped Kalim up into your arms, bridal style, before you tossed yourself as hard as you could out of the fray. You exhaled in relief, before you feel Kalim wrap his arms around your neck, to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“My hero!” he laughed, all jovial, as if he hadn’t nearly been in mortal danger.

“Kalim! That was dangerous!” 

“Yeah but we got out of it alright!” he said, as he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “What’s more important is--! I didn’t realize how strong you were!” When he looked at you with those sparkly eyes, it was easy to falter, and forget about everything that could you upset. 

The adrenaline finally rushed out of you, and you crashed to your knees, after which you buried your head into the crook of his neck.

“[N-Name]?” his voice was confused, and even flustered. Any other time, you would be eager to see his expression, but for now--

“Please... be more careful next time.” 

“.... Uhn... I’m sorry! I’ll try not to make you worry so much!” Kalim pulled away from you to look at your face. “What kind of boyfriend will I be if I make you hurt like that, yeah?” 

You exhaled, relieved. “Yes, exactly.” 

You both share a smile, then soft giggles--before it turned into full blown laughter.

That is until--

“What do you think you were doing Kalim?” Jamil hissed, his expression dark.

“Oh--well, that is” Kalim sweated in response, and you attempted to melt into the background until Jamil’s dark gaze moved to you.

“And you as well--” he gritted his teeth, “running out like that--!” 

“Wait--why are you blaming me?” 

“You both nearly gave me a heart attack!” when he looked up, his eyes glowed with a sinister light.

“Oh no.” 

“...[Name]... save me.” 

“Already on it.” you hopped onto your feet, and darted off with Jamil hot on your heels. 

“Come back here you two!” 

--

Now, normally when people were surrounding your ridiculously pretty boyfriend you were fine with it. He was a model after all. You didn’t really mind him interacting with his fans--you were perfectly fine with stepping out of the way, and giving them a few minutes to talk to Vil. 

You could relate.

After all, you didn’t call yourself Vil’s number one fan for nothing. 

You were lucky enough to be able to hoard Vil to yourself so much, so you were always willing to share ‘Vil the model’ with his fans.

‘It’s fine. I’m completely fine.’ you crossed your arms. You hoped your face wasn’t irritated, or upset. You understood how important fan interactions are but--

‘It’s our first date in awhile, and I really wanted to enjoy private time with Vil.’ you thought mournfully, as you eyed the gaggle of boys and girls who surrounded your Vil. 

If Vil was upset--it wasn’t visible on his face at all. In fact, as per usual, he enjoyed his time with his fans. (Which made you feel even worse.) He made sure to acknowledge each one of them, and looked them straight in the eye. It caused a lot of the fans to go red, and nearly faint (once more, absolutely relatable--those eyes? With those lashes? Up close? Even you had difficulty breathing with him that close.) 

You looked at the time, only to inhale sharply at the fact he’s been at it for at least an hour. Plus--based on the way the crowd around him only grew, you two would never get to finish your date.

‘Alright, I’m sorry,’ you thought, ‘but I’m going to have to get in the way.’ 

When Vil looked up to search for you outside the crowd, he couldn’t see you. He mentally frowned. He was grateful that you were always willing to adjust to his fans, but at times--he wouldn’t mind if you were a little bit more selfish with him.

He had given you himself--he as Vil Schoenheit. The world--his fans--they might have Vil Schoenheit as the influencer and model--but you had him, for himself. The Vil with no make up in the morning, the Vil who would cheat his diet for some sweets, the Vil who wasn’t as put together as the world saw. You saw all his flaws--the imperfections, the things he found ugly--yet you held him, told him he was your world despite that. 

That was something.

No, it is something.

He hoped you knew, that no matter what, that made you so irreplaceable... so important to him. 

After all, beyond his prowess as a poisoner, beyond his fame as a model--who would stand by him when that was all gone? 

He hoped it was you. 

“Sorry everyone, but I’ll have to steal my boyfriend away now.” 

He turned to you, surprised but excited that you were going to steal him away.

‘Now how would you do that, sweet potato?’ 

He saw you bend down, then quite literally--sweep him off his feet. He’s surprised--and his first reaction is to wrap his arms around your neck. You ignored the gasp of fans, as you quickly run off without a single misstep. 

“I finally have you, my ah... damsel in distress?” you quirked your brow, not sure if you said it right. Vil only laughed and pressed his lips against your cheek. When he pulls back, there’s a very obvious lipstick mark on your cheek. 

“You finally saved me, my Princess Charming.” he said, and you blinked down at him. 

“I was just... selfish.” 

Oh! And how much did that warm his heart--to know how much you wanted to dominate his time, as much as he did.

“You can always be selfish with me.” He told you quietly, with a gentle smile. 

“I mean--are you sure?” 

“Of course! I am your boyfriend after all!” He cocked his head to the side, “now, you didn’t tell me you were strong enough to carry me around.” 

“It never came up?” 

“Then, I’ll rely on you to save me more--alright?” 

You stared into his eyes--honest, and loving, coupled with how genuinely enchanting Vil was well--you broke away first with a faint blush on your cheeks.

“... Of course...”  

EXTRA: 

“How cute...” Rook purred. 

“Aside from how weird it is that we’re following them on their date...” Epel paused. “I wonder if [Name] would tell me how she got so strong?” 

--

You burst into Idia’s room, frantic and worried after receiving a text from Ortho, about his brother collapsing.

“[Name]!” Ortho called out relieved, as he pointed out Idia--slumped onto the ground, groaning.

“What happened Ortho?” you frowned, as you knelt, and carefully turned your boyfriend onto his back.

“He just suddenly collapsed, and I don’t know why.” Ortho fretted, you leant forward and pressed your forehead against his, only for you to reel back quickly in surprise.

“I think he’s running a fever.” you frowned, “we’ll have to take him to the infirmary.” 

“But how?” 

“I’ll carry him, of course.” Ortho’s mouth dropped in surprise when you easily scooped up his brother. With Idia’s long hair trailing to the ground and limp body, it did look like you had just finished saving a princess. 

“Woah! [Name] you look so cool!” Ortho stared up at you with shining eyes, and you giggled in response.

“Thanks Ortho. Now go run ahead and tell the nurse I’m bringing your irresponsible brother to the office, alright?” 

“Mhm!” 

--

On the walk there, Idia stirred in your arms.

“Oh, are you finally awake?” you teased, at which his eyes widened and he immediately froze in your arms.

“[Name]?” he squeaked out, then frantically looked around before he met your gaze again. “Wait--are you carrying me?” 

“To the nurse’s office, yes” you said, amused. 

“Please put me down!” 

“Absolutely not, after all--you made Ortho and I worry a lot!” you huffed at him, “so suffer in the arms of your girlfriend a little longer!” 

“Everyone is staring!” he whimpered. 

“Well if a certain someone didn’t forget to take care of themselves while they got into the new dlc for Gao Gao Shield and Sword...” Idia whined in response.

“I needed to complete the GaoDex before anyone else! I was one Gao Gao away from completing it, before this upstart mystery player LilV actually managed to beat me--” he buried his face in his palms. “I was so close...” 

“There there.” you tried to rub his back as best as you could. “Isn’t there another dlc still coming out later this year?” He brightened up at that.

“That’s right, I’ll start training my resistance to hunger and--” he winced at the glare you shoot at him.

“If you’re going to do it, do it in a healthy manner Idia.” you frowned, “if not for me--then for Ortho.” 

He paused, as he lowered the hands covering his face to stare at your face. You were genuinely worried for his sake, and he thought: ‘oh no, this is like picking the wrong choice in Water Crest: Seven Dorms and my support level is going down!’ he inwardly panicked, ‘I worked pretty hard to grind to level S! Of course I need to maintain it because I--’ he felt his face flush red. ‘because I really like [Name]... and I don’t want her to worry so--’ 

“I’ll... I’ll be more careful.” he looked away, bashful, and you stared at him--surprised. You didn’t think it would be easy--he loved gaming. You wouldn’t want him to change--only to take care of himself more. 

So now that he was saying this then--

‘I’ll meet him halfway.’ you decided.

“Next time I’ll stay with you.” you said, with a sweet smile. “so if you get caught up in it, I’ll get you back on track.”

“Are you sure? You might get bored?” 

“Now why would I get bored?” you shoot him a sly smile, “I’m spending time with my boyfriend after all~” 

“...” 

“Ah! Idia you’re heating up!” 

“That’s because--! Ughh--! I didn’t realize there was an SS support conversation!” 

“A what?” 

--

“So are your horns heavy?” 

Malleus cocked his head at your sudden question.

“I’m... confused... with this question, bright light.” 

“Eh...” you move your hands around as you spoke, “I don’t know, I guess I was just curious if your horns... like maybe had a certain weight to them? Like... does your neck hurt?” you tilted your head. “Like... does it feel like when you’re holding a staff? Maybe?” You paused as you looked back at the dark fae.

“Sorry, was that a weird question? Is it... intrusive? Or something?” 

“No it is not.” he shook his head gently. “I suppose I can not really tell. I have had my horns all my life so I can not say if they are light or heavy.” 

“Could I try--like seeing if they’re heavy?” He quirked his brow in response.

“You can try,” he paused, “but how exactly will you do that, bright light?” 

“Like this.” With barely a blink, you gestured for him to crouch lower. He did so--confused. When you suddenly picked Malleus up into your arms, you do so with such a smoothness that he froze. 

“Huh, your horns are slightly heavy I think.” You adjusted him in your arms, you definitely felt a difference in weight closer to the side where his horns were. “Tsunotarou? Bright eyes? Two hundred and two centimeters? Malmal? Are you okay?” 

(You were unaware of Sebek behind you, who had attempted to rush out to save his young lord. Lilia pulled him back with one hand, his other hand covered his guffaw. On his other side, Silver was very awake--also surprised that a human girl was able to just sweep the young lord into you arms with barely a flinch or stagger.)

You squinted at him, only to realize his pupils were wide--wider than you’ve ever seen before. His lips were parted slightly, as he stared at you. He looked absolutely stunned. 

“Um? Are you okay--” 

“Heh...” Malleus raised a hand to his lips, before he started laughing out loud.

“Woah Malmal, you look sort of... crazy.” 

“Heheh... Hahahah!” Malleus laughed, “Interesting! So very fascinating, my bright light.” 

“Uh?” 

“To think you would have the gall to lift the Heir to the Valley of Thorns--to think you had the strength to do so--will you ever stop being so intriguing, my bright light?” 

“I’ll try not too?” you replied, in a confused tone, and Malleus continued to chuckle lightly in your arms. His eyes became gentle at your response. 

‘I keep wondering why I find you so fascinating...’ he mused, ‘but it is truly simple--you are not afraid to treat me as... myself I suppose. You did not see me as Heir of the Valley of Thrones--you saw me as a man with horns-- a man with bright eyes--’  

‘You do not treat me as delicate... but at the same time, you do not treat me as something to be feared.’ 

‘You are like a light... a light with the potential to burn away all the darkness...’ he held your confused gaze, ‘will you do it? Bright light? Will you persevere in this world not yours--and show it how bright you can be?’ 

‘Whether you do or not--you are perhaps, the only one, the first one I can consider a friend--an equal.’ 

“You look really deep in thought, bright eyes.” You said, and he hummed. 

“It is nothing.” When you moved to let him down, Malleus’s arms looped its way around your neck. 

“Ah?” 

“I would like to stay in your arms for a little longer, bright light.” He met your gaze, and you blushed at the intensity in those eyes. “Would you indulge me?” 

“--That is... of course, Tsunotaro.” His smile widened, and your heart melted at how genuinely happy it was. To think he used to gaze at the world with such sadness...

If little things like this was enough to make him happy, then you want to do it more often. 

--

Ai’s Glossary For TWST Swear Words *I primarily came up with this because I don’t think swear words are the same in different worlds--? So I decided I should just come up with them.  (✧≖‿ゝ≖) 

- “Oh my Queen” / “Sweet Witch” / “Dear Sorcerer” ... you get the drill   - basically equivalent to our “oh my god”, “sweet lord”, “dear god”

- “Oh carp” - unique to the Octavinelle dorm. It’s basically “oh crap” or “oh shit.” Variation include “holy carp.” 

- “Oh scarab” - unique to the Scarabia dorm. Perhaps specifically unique to Jamil too. It’s the same as above, except he uses scarab instead of carp. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Day 2: Relationships / Matching

*Introducing the Perfect Pair Collection, featuring asymmetrical designs that match.* The oxymoron was not lost on her.

Time to switch to a completely different art style on day 2– 😣 Today’s prompt features the Pomefiore trio!

A harsh tug on his sleeve drew Jade to a halt. He glanced at Miss Raven, who clung to his side, pointing to a nearby shop window with her free hand. Jade followed her finger to what was on display—small boxes and racks, each displaying a glittering piece of jewelry.

“Oya, I do not believe we have baubles on the grocery list,” he tutted, teasingly wagging a finger. “To think that your interest would be so easily captured by mere shiny objects, Miss Raven... Corvids truly are simple-minded creatures. Perhaps you have more in common with the headmaster than I had initially thought.”

“I’m allowed to appreciate beauty, aren’t I?” Raven retorted, casting Jade a sideways glare. “Besides, you wear jewelry.”

“Ah, this?” He gently tapped at the earring dangling from his left earlobe. Three diamond-shaped scales cast a silvery-blue glow upon his skin. “I wouldn’t call it a piece of jewelry so much as a battle trophy.”

At this, Raven wrenched her face away from the glass display to stare at him. “Please don’t tell me you did something unsavory to get your hands on it.”

“You have such strange ideas, Miss Raven.” Jade chuckled as he slicked back his black stripe of hair behind his accessory-clad ear. “Fufu. There is nothing unsavory about victors claiming a prize for their triumph, correct? That is only the natural order of things.”

… I feel sorry for whoever the twins beat up.

She shook her head and returned her gaze to the display window--to the selection of earrings that were laid out upon velvet cloth. Introducing the Perfect Pair Collection, read a sign, featuring asymmetrical designs that match. (The oxymoron was not lost on her.)

Surrounding the sign were various pairs, as promised: a sun and a moon, a jar of jelly and another of peanut butter, a hand and a heart… but Raven felt herself drawn to earrings in the shape of a lock and a key. How peculiar that the head of the key curved into a heart and that its teeth were ribbed with pearls, and how slim yet stylish the lock was.

“My, are you interested in that pair? What an interesting choice.”

“N-No! I’m just admiring them,” Raven insisted. “You don’t normally see designs like this… I wonder how the jeweler was able to make objects so clunky and heavy into something wearable.”

“That is a fair point. The craftsmanship is indeed exquisite.” Jade’s sharp eyes carefully traced the shape of Raven’s ears--pointed, like the headmaster’s. “How unfortunate it is that you lack the piercings to wear them.”

Raven’s hands instinctively flew to her earlobes, as though trying to shield them from him. “I told you, I’m not interested in buying--” 

“Why, whoever said anything about you purchasing the earrings? I was keen to pick up a new pair for myself.” Jade provided a smile and a bow. “Now then, if you would excuse me for one moment…”

Before Raven could protest, he had already vanished inside the jewelry store, leaving her stranded on the street with a list of groceries to procure.

“... Fantastic.”

The bird sighed into her palms. From past experience, she knew that it would not be a wise idea to pursue Jade and attempt to drag him away. For as skilled as Raven was at weaving words, she often found that Jade’s natural charisma, paired with his silver tongue, often gave him the advantage in disagreements.

Best to just leave it for now.

Still, she warily eyed him through the store window as he conversed with a clerk. A few vague hand gestures, a practiced smile, a polite and controlled laugh. All motions Raven had familiarized herself with.

Entranced with her eel watching, Raven didn’t register the trio approaching her until one of the group called out to her.

“Mon petit oiseau! What a coincidence it is to be running into you today.”

“Oh!” She startled at the huntsman’s voice. “Rook…!! And… Vil-senpai and Epel-san. Hello…!”

Acutely aware of Vil’s sternness, Raven quickly lowered her head in deference. This earned a slight curl of the lips from him.

He was dressed as fashionably as ever--a white, frilly top with a V-neck, paired with sunglasses propped in his hair, sleek leggings, and glove boots. Several necklaces adorned Vil’s long, milky neck, and his face was expertly painted with a sheer wash of shimmering, nude makeup.

“Good day to you, Shetland potato,” Vil replied coolly. He passed a glance to Epel, who stood behind him, struggling to carry several rolls of fabric.

“G-Good day,” Epel managed, tugging at his collar. It appeared as though Vil had dressed him, too--for he was dressed in a lacey lilac blouse, and tied off with a black bow. Instead of leggings, Epel wore puffy shorts and striped socks.

“Such a treat it is to see you out of the attic and venturing out into the world!” Rook laughed, brushing back a wisp of his golden hair. He was without his trademark feathered hat, and had traded his dormitory robes for a button-down shirt--the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone, army green khakis, and boating shoes.

Compared to the Pomefiore trio, Raven looked like a spaghetti stain on a square of white fabric. She nervously dusted off her skirt, hoping that Vil wouldn’t harp on how she was wearing the same outfit yet again.

“What brings you to town?” Rook inquired, dropping the bags he had been carrying and excitedly grasping Raven’s hands instead.

“Just… groceries. Uncle is away for a conference, so I am to fend for myself in his absence,” she mumbled, gingerly prying her hands away. “Well… sort of. Jade has been mother henning me for the past few days.”

“Monsieur Mastermind? Ohoh. What a dynamic duo! Two halves of the same coin, trading bitter blows with their words… forever locked in verbal combat!”

“I… I guess?”

“I trust that he is looking after you well?” Rook’s smile widened. “If not... perhaps we should kidnap you away and stow you in Pomefiore until the headmaster’s return!”

“Absolutely not,” Vil snapped. “We have our hands far too full with play preparations to be hosting the Shetland potato--or anyone else, for that matter.”

… H-He didn’t object to Rook kidnapping people. Is that a normal thing for Rook to do? Should I be concerned? She shoved her question down to change the subject to something more comfortable. “Erm… Is that what the supplies are for?”

“Oui! Roi du Poison’s club is staging a performance in the winter. These materials are to make costumes.” The huntsman’s eyes suddenly lit up with a mischievous sparkle. “Fufu. Mon roi has thrown his heart and soul into direction. It is a treat to behold!”

“Congratulations, senpai.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” Vil commanded, holding up a hand. “We are still in the throes of auditions. Wait until you have witnessed the show for yourself before you cheer for it.”

“Oh, well… I hope you find suitable actors, then.”

Vil’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “Hm. Now that you mention it… Shetland potato!”

Raven jumped when he barked at her. “Y-Yes?! Look, I know I’ve been wearing the same outfit every time you see me, it’s just that Uncle fills my closet with nothing but duplicate clothes…!!”

“I think you would be fitting for one of the roles in my play,” Vil declared. “Report to Pomefiore at 8 am sharp tomorrow if you are interested in auditioning.”

“Huh?! Me, in one of your… I don’t think I’m…”

“Are you doubting my eyes?” His glare sharpened, turning into a pointed dagger.

“N-No, sir…”

“Good. Then I hope to see you then.” Vil spun around on his heel and waved a hand. “Rook! Epel! We’re going. Don’t dawdle, now.”

“Yes, Vil-senpai. I-I’m coming!”

Epel dashed after his Dorm Leader, Rook following suit--but not before he gave Raven one last glance over his shoulder, accompanied by a wave. Au revoir, he mouthed, the twinkle never parting from his emerald eyes.

She waved back absentmindedly, brought back from her daze only by the ringing of the jewelry store door swinging open again.

Jade emerged from within, bearing a small baby blue box with a white silk bow. “I have returned, Miss Raven. Fufu. I trust that you were not too lonely without me?”

She hastily hid her hands behind her back. “Of course not. You were only gone for a few minutes…!”

“So I was.” Jade’s eyes darted to the Pomefiore trio, whose figures were vanishing over the horizon. “Had I been absent a few moments longer, perhaps I would have had to wrangle you from the hands of an nosy huntsman.”

“As though forcing your way in and kidnapping me back would be any better!”

Jade stifled a laugh.

“In any case, I have procured the earrings I had my heart set on.” With deft fingers, he slid off the top, revealing a glittering lock and key tucked away inside. Jade plucked up the key by the head. “Miss Raven, do lend me your ear.”

“Those are yours…!”

“Correct--and therefore, I may do with these as I please.” He smiled pleasantly. “And I choose to lend you one to wear.”

“It’s not that simple! Have you forgotten already? I can’t wear it--don’t have piercings,” she protested. “You’re not going to jab it through my earlobes, are you?!”

“I will do no such thing.” Jade’s voice remained tranquil as he seized the raven by her chin and jerked her head to one side, yielding a clear opening for him to plant the earring. She squawked in surprise, flailing against him--but his grip was too strong, and she, too weak.

He sighed, continuing to speak as though he were describing the nice weather. “I assure you, this will not hurt one bit, fufufu. Now be a dear and hold still.”

It happened in an instant, despite the bird’s struggles. A slight pinch upon her earlobe, the kiss of the cool metal key on her skin, and it was over.

Jade straightened with a satisfied smirk, and patted Raven on the cheek. “There we are.”

“Eh? What? How did…” She cautiously poked at the earring. “There wasn’t a needle…?”

“I requested that the jeweler convert the key earring into a clip-on.”

“Wha…?! You… You tricked me again?!” Her face flared with a mixture of embarrassment and rage. “But why even bother with such a thing?”

“I wished to see how it would look on you. As I suspected, it is lovely on you.”

Raven gritted her teeth, praying that it would somehow help hide her flusteredness. “... And what do you plan to do with the lock earring? You didn’t also have that one converted, did you?”

“Certainly not.” Jade toyed with the lock in question, rolling it between his index finger and thumb. “I was thinking to wear it myself in lieu of my usual sturgeon scale earring, so that we may match.”

“Match?” Raven scoffed through her blush. “I didn’t know you cared so much about your accessories while grocery shopping.”

“I do not,” he confessed with a coy grin. “However, I would be remiss to pass up an opportunity to show to the world what a perfect pair we make.”

“You what--” Raven was interrupted by Jade grasping one of her hands and placing the lock earring into it.

“If you would do the honors,” he murmured, tilting his head to one side--and once more, slicking his black hair back. His tone was low and inviting, yet somehow she could hear him well and clear over the townspeople that bustled around them.

The scales suspended on his earring swung back and forth in a slow motion. Click, clack, against one another, in an almost hypnotic fashion.

His single, golden eye stared right at her. Waiting, pleading.

Raven swallowed hard. With trembling hands, she unfastened the sturgeon scale earring from his earlobe and secured the lock earring in its place. As soon as the deed was done, she rushed to wipe her hands off on her skirt.

Eel cooties, eel cooties, eel cooties…!!

“Thank you for your assistance, Miss Raven.”

“You’re… you’re welcome.” She pursed her lips, avoiding his eyes--but her traitorous gaze soon found itself lingering on the lock. “That suits you, in a way--like a lock, you guard many secrets, and it’s impossible to get you to open up.”

“Fufu. I am flattered to hear such kind words. If I may return the compliment, that key earring fits you like a glove.”

“Right. Because Uncle is adorned in keys, it would make sense for the motif to carry over to his relatives.”

“No, no, you misunderstand.” Jade held a finger to his lips, a twinkle of conspiracy in his golden eyes. “Come closer… and I shall impart one of my closely guarded secrets to you.”

“This isn’t another one of your tricks, is it?” she asked, her eyes forming suspicious slivers--but despite her curt words, the bird’s body instinctively leaned into his. She cursed her curiosity.

Jade chuckled and bent down, allowing his lips to hover by her ear. Time seemed to slow, but her heartbeat quickened. Face, hot--extremities, cold. Opposites, yet matching. One, unable to exist without the other.

And, at last, his answer came.

“It suits you well--for you hold the key to my heart, Miss Raven.”

[eideticmemory]

FINE LINE | SPENCER REID

Two decades and two children later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting.

Word Count: 2,604.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, drama, romance. Love to see it.

You could feel it. The light illuminating your face, touching it with a gentle heat that made your eyes flutter open. Your head felt heavy, as if your neck was attempting to support the weight of a canon ball. You rested your skull on the back of the chair you sat in, eyelids dropping just above your irises. Just in the distance, you could make out a cinema screen. Large, blurry, projecting a bright white screen.

Her image appeared in the center of the square, perfect, in place, still. But you could make out the grin on her face. Watching her dark red lips release the words, “Hello, sleepyhead.”

You could just barely muster up the strength to part your lips, pushing out a small gust of air. It was hot and made your mouth feel like it was on fire.

“H—“

“Oh,” she interrupted you, gently, quietly. You jumped at the feeling of her touching your arm, her palm tight around your forearm. She was cold, freezing, but you could still feel warmth radiating off of her. “I’m afraid you can’t stay too long this time. It’s time to wake up.”

“Hm?” You whined. “Mm?”

“Wake up,” she repeated. “C’mon, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake u—“

“Up!”

You jolted, violently, harshly, your eyes springing open to reveal the usual sight of your bedsheets.

“Mom, wake up,” an exasperated voice sounded from beside you, the words catching your attention instantly. Tightly.

“Huh?” You mumbled, flickering your eyes up to the figure at your side, sitting on your bed, looking at you with a concerned stare. “Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Eden asked. Sunlight shone on her face, giving her the appearance of an angel. Sent to wake you, pull you back into reality. “What were you dreaming about?”

You let out a long sigh, as if you could even begin to explain your subconscious mind to your 15-year-old daughter. “Oh, y’know,” you whispered, sitting yourself upright and resting back against the headboard. “Just...lions, and tigers, and bears.”

“Oh my,” Eden responded, her big brown eyes concentrated on your face.

You chuckled underneath your breath, and let out a quick huff. “Oh, shoot, is your brother up?”

“He’s up, he’s dressed, he’s fed, and reading the Illiad.”

“Oh?” You stepped out of bed, pulling the duvet over your legs to reveal your pajama pants. “What happened to War and Peace?”

“He finished that yesterday.”

“He gets quicker every hour,” you shook your head.

“It’s a genius thing,” Eden shrugged. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, watching the strands brush over her fingers as she chewed her lip. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah, kid?” You replied, standing in the bathroom mirror as you began to get ready for the day.

“You—you know dad, right?”

You stopped in your tracks, any and all movements coming to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you spun on your heels, slowly, until you came face to face with Eden. “Uh . . . your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Tall? Long, brown hair? Hazel eyes? Has a birthmark on his right thigh?” You listed, toothbrush hanging from your mouth.

“Ew,” Eden cringed. “Yes.”

“Never met him in my life,” you shrugged.

“Mom.”

“Kid,” you tilted your head, face softening as you realized how nervous she was. “What’s up?”

She sighed, ducking her head down to avoid eye contact. “I invited him to my sweet 16.”

“Oh.” It came out like reflex. You said the word before you could fully process the information.

“Are you mad?”

“No—huh? E,” you rushed to sit beside her. “You don’t have to hide inviting your father from me—you—you don’t have to invite your father at all. He’s always welcome to visit on your birthday. And of course he should be at your sweet sixteen.”

“Really?” Eden questioned, eyebrows raised. “So, it will be a nice day? A nice party? Everyone will be nice to everyone?”

“Yes, yes, girl scouts honor.”

“Good,” she nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, babe,” you murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It—“

“Mom!” A shrill voice struck both of you with fear, coming out of nowhere.

“Yes, my love?” You directed at Emerson, watching him fidget with his hands in the doorway. His shaggy brown hair covered his face slightly and his button up was tucked into his khaki shorts.

“My chess tournament starts soon, are you coming?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, kiddo. You and your sister go downstairs while I get dressed.”

They’re obedient, your kids. Kind, driven, smart — with an average IQ of 187.5. The could take over the world if they really, really wanted to. But they don’t. They just want to go out for pizza, and get their twenty dollar allowance every week, hang out with their friends, focus on school, and . . . to see their father. You solemnly set your toothbrush down in the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror — tired, worn out, nauseous from another . . . dream? Nightmare? You’re not sure, and frankly, you don’t want to think about it.

So, you pushed on. You got dressed, fixed your hair, used light makeup to cover your exhaustion. Stepping out into the bedroom, your eyes quickly fell on your cellphone — the device laying on your bedside dresser. Hands on your hips, you shook your head, telling yourself not to do it. It’s not necessary, it’s overbearing to even think about.

Then, you remembered who you were dealing with here. And you rushed over to picked up the phone.

“[y/n] Reid,” he beamed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you talked to E,” you whispered, pacing back and forth in your bedroom.

“I did,” Spencer confirmed. “She called me the other day.”

“To invite you to her birthday party.”

“Yes.”

“And are you planning on coming?” You asked.

“Of course I’m planning on coming. It’s my daughter’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Right, right, it’s not like you missed her fifteenth, or thirteenth, or her twelfth, or her actual birth, or anything.”

“[y/n]—”

“Listen, I didn’t call to argue, or even talk,” you sighed. “I just called to tell you that this party isn’t an option. You will be here Saturday at 10 o’clock sharp, you will help decorate, you will spend time with your children, and you will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. Understood?”

“I have to help decorate?”

“Spencer—“

“I will be there. 10 o’clock. I will help decorate, I will spend time with my children, I will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. I understand.”

You released a quiet huff, like your lungs couldn’t stand to hold the breath any longer. “Thank you.”

Spencer let out a soft, sad laugh, “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Chess gives you anxiety. You understand it. You can conceptualize it, and even play it. Well. But the bubbling in your stomach every time you witnessed a game — particually one where your eight year old son is playing — comes back to haunt you again and again. You don’t worry about Emerson, he can take care of himself. He’s like his father in that way, the game is in his blood. But the tension, the speed, the risk. It made your breath lodge in your chest, and every so often, you had to sigh to regain control.

The only thing that could pull you from that stress is Em. Emerson Derek Reid, the little half smile on his face when he wins a match. It makes the three hour tournaments worth it. Watching your boy play against college level students who have been playing all their lives. Yeah, so has he.

He jumps off stage in an excited state, rushing towards you with open arms. “You’re a tiger, kid!” You exclaim. “You killed it.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he shrugged. “It’s really my opponents’ fault, they wouldn’t know a queen from a rook if it was looking them in the face.”

“Ooh, cat fight.” E remarked, causing Em and you to laugh.

“Hey,” you said. “Since you’re both already out of school today . . . wanna play hookie?”

“Mom? I am shocked!” E gasped, trying hard to contain a laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, we never get to hang out anymore since you guys started these college classes and my business went up. I’m off work, you’re already out of class, let’s just do it. Let’s go shop and eat and hang out and I will write you guys an excuse for tomorrow, okay?” You rambled, putting your hands to their shoulders.

Em and E looked at each other, and after a minute, they looked up at you and nodded.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You took them to the mall. Bought Em some new clothes, but he wasn’t really interested. You and E did most of the picking. He sat in the corner of the store reading and only participated to try on outfits you guys had picked out. You both squealed and told him how cute he looked, and he scrunched up his nose. Just like . . .

And then you bought E some shoes, some vans. There was a huge sell, and she fell in love with everything she tried on. And you fell in love with seeing her happy so you ran up a bill.

“Okay, which one of us is dying?” E said as you sat at lunch. Em bursted out laughing.

“Wha—neither of you! I just wanted to spoil you guys. You kill yourselves all week with school, even though it’s summer. And I never see you, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Em hummed, an unconvinced look in his face as he eyed his sister. “I bet someone died.”

“Em!” You exclaimed, E’s laughter blending in. “God, you guys are morbid.”

“Our parents both worked in the FBI, we’re basically trained,” E giggled.

Just then, you got a call. Work. Fuck. You stood from the table and stepped outside, excusing yourself first.

“[y/n].”

“Can we close the Pickett case tonight?”

“Raven . . .”

“I don’t want that boy in that house for one more second. [y/n], I will send you more of my notes, but . . . read them, read them. You will understand. Please.”

You sighed, “I’ll be there at ten. If you are not there at ten . . . I’ll wait for you. Let’s do it.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thanks! Bye. Sorry. Bye.”

You took in a deep breath and shook your head.

Nothing was going to spoil your lunch. Not today.

The car ride home, the three of you vibed to music. Your kids knew every word to Fleetwood Mac’s discography and it was your greatest accomplishment. They even developed their own dance routine to Dreams when they were younger.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You pulled up to your house, and as you approached the driveway, you saw a familiar car parked out front. Your stomach flipped, caved in, skipped, hopped, and jumped.

Words can’t even described what it did when you saw him.

Sitting on the porch swing.

“Dad?” Em exclaimed loudly in excitement. You parked in the driveway, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Dad?” E said quietly, confusion in her voice. “Did you—“ She directed at you, interrupted by her brother hopping out of the car.

Em ran up to Spencer, and his father scooped him up in a quick motion, spinning him around and kissing his head.

You let out a quick huff, turned to E and smiled, “C’mon, go say hi.”

You followed E out of the car, and watched as she tip toed towards Spencer. She suddenly skipped and jumped into Spencer’s arms.

“Hey, dad,” she said.

“Hey, kid!” He replied, before putting her on her feet. “Your hair is getting so long!”

“Yeah,” she twirled her hair and laughed. “What are you doing here!”

“I wanted to see you guys . . .” He turned to you. “And your mom, who’s quiet as a mouse.”

“Hello,” you shrugged, giving him a kind smile.

“Are you staying for today, dad?” Em asked, tucked under Spencer’s arm.

“I was actually hoping to stay until Sunday, if that’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Your very, very least favorite person on the whole planet.

“Please, mom? He can be here for my birthday!” E pipped.

Em. E. Em. E. Those big, pouty eyes of theirs staring you down. “You can stay in the guest room,” you told Spencer.

“Is that close to your bedroom?” Spencer smirked.

“Heh,” you huffed. “Don’t push it. You can stay upstairs.”

“Yes! C’mon, dad! I made a new model that I wanna show you!”

Later that night, you made the kids pasta. It was one of your finer cuisines, taught to you by an old friend, and they asked for it all the night, especially when they needed to study.

Spencer wandered into the kitchen after getting settled upstairs. “Woah! I thought we could go out for dinner, huh? My treat?”

“We would, dad,” Eden said. “But we both have tests tomorrow. Calculus and Physics. Maybe tomorrow.”

You set their plates down and looked up at Spencer. You walked over to him, eyeing him knowingly as you led him out of the kitchen.

“They’re nerds,” Spencer laughed.

“They’ve also both got an eidetic memory. It’s gonna take them all of three minutes to study, then they’ll be all over you again,” you told him, walking out onto the back patio.

Following you, Spencer closed the door behind him, isolating you two on the porch.

You sat down, plopped down, and looked up at him, “Why are you here?”

“Subtle.”

“Spencer.”

“I mean it, you should be a federal agent.”

“Spencer.”

He sighed heavily, “I have some things I want to . . . handle.”

“Here?” You asked.

“Yes,” he hesitated. “I haven’t been enough a part of the kids’ lives—“

You rolled yours eyes. Yeah, you knew that.

“I want to fix that, to have a real relationship with them.” He continued.

“You’ve always been able to,” you shrugged. “You get distracted.”

“Work,” he muttered.

“Always is.”

“And . . .” he whispered, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the ground.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “And?”

“I — I want to fix my relationship with you.”

Huh.

“I want us to go to therapy.”

Huh.

“Wha—“ You stuttered, rising from your seat. “Spencer, what?”

“Not couples therapy. Nothing . . . romantic,” his voice cracked. “But we can’t keep acting so . . . poorly around the kids. They’re smart, they notice things. They always have.”

“Spencer, how are we gonna go to therapy? You’d need to dig up Freud himself and have him work on us full time.”

“I just think we need to talk,” he murmured. He stepped closer to you, breathing deeply as he towered over you. “Will you please just think about it?”

You stared him in the eye, let out a heavy exhale.

Spencer.

[crystalized-cove]

【Dreaming】

[ Um could you do "that was embarrassing" for Azul or Vil? Like something fluffy with their fem s/o trying to comfort them after they did something embarrassing? Please and thank you! ]

[ Vil Schoenheit x Reader ]

    “You can come out now.”

    It was clear in his voice. His patience was wearing thin. Even Rook had to take a step back to allow the two space, as his words of encouragement would only get them so far before they’d fall back into a cycle of constant whispers.

    “You can try to run and hide, but you’re rather easy to find little one.” His sharp fingernails tapped against his forearms, arms crossed. The blonde tilting his head slightly as his gaze was upon the dark wood door that was locked shut. Quietly calculating a few choices in his head as there was nothing but the small sounds of sniffles. Not getting a response back from what he said as he turned away for a moment. Stepping to the doorway as he pauses before tip-toeing back towards the closet. Moving to the side of the door. Only needing to wait a few more moments before he saw a head peek out from behind the door. Peering around the area to scout before the woman started to take a step out. Rubbing at her eyes as she had clearly been crying to herself. Her body instantly tensing up when she felt an arm begin to wrap around her waist. Tugging her along away from her original path. “Do not think you can run away again. Now, will you stop acting like a child?” his voice held almost no room for argument. Her gaze flickering up to meet his own as she almost felt as if she could shrink under his scrutiny; his judgment.

    “... Vil, you saw the entire thing. That was embarrassing for me. Can I please just go to my room?” Ignoring the crack in her voice, her gaze moved back to the floor. Feeling his grip tighten as he began to drag her across the room to the connecting corridor.

    “Yes. I saw you slam your face into a pole while talking to those lowly potatoes. Instead of whining, how about you let me inspect your face? You smeared your foundation, let your mascara run, and now your concealer is oxidizing. Because you decided to hide in a musky closet.” He almost seems to click his tongue at her antics, not taking no for an answer at this point. Unable to pull away as she aided his grip by giving up and following him. Able to hear the hum of approval from him as he let go of her to allow easier access to the next room. Guided to a chair before her head was tilted back. His nails trailing over her cheekbones and nose, clearly being inspected into her core by his sharp gaze. Her eyes moving over his face, inspecting it just as much. Poreless skin, fine cheekbones and facial structure, picture-perfect bangs that framed him just right…

    “Why are you so perfect…” barely escapes her lips in a whisper. His gaze flickering up to meet hers as he was starting to wipe her makeup off. Pushing extra hard over her nose now, causing her to jump in her seat and let out a whimper.

    “You’re asking questions that I don’t have the answer to. Especially since they’re questions that shouldn’t exist in the first place. Now stay quiet, love.” His voice began to die down at the end, moving to work on her eyes carefully. His touch was quick to change as she could feel the gentle rub of the cloth on her skin. Unknowingly beginning to smile at his indubious amount of affection he held for her, just as much she held for him. Violet eyes flickering back over as he then rests the cloth on the edge of her lip. Letting her lick her lips only to cringe once she started to taste the slight sting of makeup remover. Chuckling to himself and turning to had her a washcloth for her face.

    “Wash up so I can get the disinfectant.”

    “I’m not injured, I don’t need all this care…”

    “You can’t use anymore nose strips until you let the swelling go down, and the bruising to go away. Next morning I’ll prepare a new set of concealer you can use that won’t dry out your skin.”

    “... So I get no say in this at all?”

    “Not at all.”

[schoenheitslut]

BABYSITTER

note/s :: literally just porn without plot. I vastly underestimated how long this would be. It’s completely self indulgent and based on the babysitter au idea I had earlier. This is probably shit but honestly it was so fun to write now that I don’t feel embarrassed while writing smut.

desc :: mari is a babysitter for epel. after tucking epel in, she finds rook in the kitchen and offers to cook dinner for him. she realizes that her two attractive bosses feel the same way about her.

word count :: 2263

pairing :: beautywings | rookvil x mari

Mari stretched her arms as she exited Epel’s room. It took a bit of time in order to get the rowdy child to bed but she managed to tire him out enough. It was kind of a shame that she didn’t get to tell him a bedtime story like usual but Vil is very strict about the exact time he needs to be asleep. Sometimes it was a little tiring to meet his standards but it was all worth it in the end. The family paid well and Epel was a sweet child.

Her eyes landed on the man sitting in the living room. A small smile graced her lips. “Ah, I see you’re back from work, Mr. Hunt. Have you eaten dinner?” She asked him.

He shook his head, mirroring her smile. He tipped his hat to her in greeting, gazing at her like he usually did. It looked as though he was a predator stalking his prey. But as a hunter, it was just his thing, she reasoned with herself internally. He’s never done anything to harm her. In fact, he was always so charming and sweet. Mr. Schoenheit was a lucky man to have him as a husband.

“Then let me make something for you.”

Mari made her way to the kitchen in order to cook something up for the two of them, as well as Mr. Schoenheit. Hopefully she can perfect her skill in making meals the way her two employers like it, knowing how high the actor’s standards were for everything. As she placed the ingredients onto the counter, she felt a warm breath on her neck, causing her to jolt and drop the ingredients on it. His arms wrapped around her.

“M-Mr. Hunt, what are you doing—”

She was interrupted by him. “Fufu, I’ve always dreamed of getting to know you carnally on this counter. The thought of having you for dinner tonight makes me feel so excited.” He couldn’t mask the giddiness in his voice. His hands roamed her body, groping at every curve.

“Mr. Hunt, you’re married— Ah!” She moaned at him slipping his fingers through her skirt and panties and inside her warmth, massaging her insides. She felt his tongue drag across her neck and collarbone. A heat spread throughout her body from her abdomen.

“Mm, yes. You’re so wet, mon petit lapin,” he cooed as he grinded his hips against hers, pressing his hardness to her ass.

She bit her lip, trying not to be too loud. But accidentally let another moan out when he inserted another finger into her depths. A knot formed in her loins, squeezing tightly and aching for release.

“Let me hear all your beautiful noises, mon chéri. Show me how much of a whore you are,” he whispered into her ear, tickling it lightly. It caused her to gasp. For some reason, she felt her pussy twitch at his words.

But then came the sound of heels clacking against the marble floor. Her heart stopped, recognising the sound and her head whipped up to see the glacial gaze of Mr. Schoenheit piercing through her soul.

She was so fucked.

“Mr. Schoenheit, I’m so sorry—”

Vil glared at his husband. “How dare you start without me, Rook? I should punish you for your impatience.” He walked over and pushed him off of the girl.

“Wha—”

She couldn’t even get a full word in before he pulled her towards him and picked her up, carrying her bridal style to their shared room. “Don’t be so surprised, darling. I hope you really didn’t think we didn’t notice how you look at the two of us with such longing eyes.”

Her cheeks heated up, unsure how to respond to all this but she couldn’t bring herself to protest. He was right. But god, it felt embarrassing to know that they were aware of how she saw them this whole time.

The model laid her on the bed, the silk sheets were more inviting and twice as sensual on her skin. A click sounded from behind them, indicating that the door had been locked.

“Sit down.” His voice was commanding, so much so that his husband immediately sat down on the chair. He pulled his drawer and took out some brilliant red rope before expertly tying his husband in a manner that reminded the girl of shibari, such intricate and detailed patterns were so elegant that she felt unworthy of seeing Rook in such an erotic state. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to calm the rising heat between them.

He tied a blindfold over his eyes, concealing them. Then, Vil turned to her, causing her to tense up. Her breath hitched. “Strip for me. Slowly.”

Mari gulped and nodded, unbuttoning her cardigan one at a time. She took it off, revealing her bare shoulders and started to strip off her dress which left her in her underwear.

He tutted. “They’re decent, but you could do better, my dear.” He eyed her underwear, judging the way the fabric hugged her body, how the color looked against her skin tone, and other things.

“I didn’t exactly expect this to happen, sir,” she spoke, finally able to actually get a whole sentence out.

A frown pulled at his lips. His expression was one of exasperation. “We were meant to wait until I deemed you ready but Rook had gotten too excited, so now I have to punish him for that.”

Vil crossed his arms. “But before we proceed any further, I must ask if you are truly alright with this. You’re allowed to say no if you do not feel comfortable with this. Do not feel pressured by our status as your employers.” He seemed so genuine with his words, like he truly cared about how she felt. “You may go home and forget this ever happened and I can assure you that it won’t affect your job.”

She bit her lip, nodding meekly. “Yeah, I was just shocked that you guys would actually… want this. I’m still having trouble believing this is actually happening.” This felt too good to be true. The two men that she pined for had just suddenly shown that they were interested in her. She wondered if this was just a really spicy dream she was having after being sexually repressed for years. But it was really nice that Vil cared enough for her consent first.

He smirked, leaning closer. His finger hooked underher chin to make her look directly at his lilac eyes that held such lust for her.

“Then we’ll have the whole night to convince you that this is very real.”

His other hand went behind her and unhooked her bra with ease. It fell to the ground with a near silent thud. She shivered, feeling a cool breeze nip at her flesh. He took off her panties as well, dropping them so that she was completely naked.

Vil led her to where Rook was and instructed her to get on her knees in front of him. The girl unzipped his pants and was startled by his thick length springing up, leaking precum. “Place it in between your breasts,” the taller male ordered her. She obliged, leaning closer to get him between her soft mounds. Rook shivered at the contact, his cock twitched lightly.

“Now, lick the tip.”

Mari opened her mouth and circled her tongue over the head, causing the hunter to moan lightly. She then felt a pair of hands snaking down to her nether regions, rubbing circles on her clit. This caused her breath to hitch.

“Take it in your mouth and massage him,” Vil commanded her as he moved closer to her, their bodies had gotten so close that she felt his hardness against her.

She followed his orders. Rook groaned at her actions, wishing that he could see her but the blindfold prevented him from doing that. “Mon ange, please—”

The actor noticed and a mirthful smirk pulled at his glossy lips, enhancing his gorgeous features. “Begging already, are we?” He asked. “How pitiful. Usually you can last hours before you’re even pleading for release.”

“But I suppose it can’t be helped,” he continued on, “You couldn’t even wait until she was ready, and now I have to punish your impatience.”

“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, got it?” His voice was commanding, so much so that Rook had nodded immediately.

“Keep going,” Vil whispered into the girl’s ear before he looked down at her sopping wet cunt. His fingers entered her, making her gasp around his husband’s cock. “Hm, I see Rook did one thing right. You should be wet enough.”

His hard length pressed against her ass when she continued to tease Rook, who was doing well when it came to holding back. She swirled her tongue around his tip. Looking up at him like this was a glorious sight to behold. His skin shone with sweat and his body was completely ripped. His chest heaved as he breathed. A nice red blush dusted his pale cheeks.

Mari cried out when she felt Vil’s cock enter her. The more intense vibrations around his manhood caused Rook to jolt in pain and pleasure.

Vil waited for her to adjust for a moment before moving his hips to grind against hers. The heat between her legs intensified, raging like a fire. She moaned at the sensation, feeling him hit all the right places.

The hunter wished for nothing more than to be able to see during that moment. It must’ve been quite a sight to see his cock between her soft tits while she sucked the tip as Vil pounded into her from behind. He groaned. “Roi du Poison, please… forgive me.”

Vil hummed before looking down at Mari. “What do you think, dear? Should I?” He asked her before angling his hips upward to hit her g spot.

“I think he learned his les-SON!” Mari felt herself go cross-eyed when he hit that spot within her. The knot tightening in her loins.

“Hmph, you’re certainly forgiving. But fine. As it is your first night with us, you’ll have your way,” he said. He turned to his husband. “You have our permission.”

Upon hearing those words, Rook immediately spilled his seed into her mouth, filling it with his creamy essence.

“Don’t swallow just yet. Take off his blind fold.”

Mari pulled away, tasting the thick saltiness of his cum. She leaned up to remove the blindfold from his eyes. Hunter green irises locked with milk chocolate-hued ones.

“Make him taste himself,” Vil commanded as he leaned down on her shoulder to leave a trail of kisses.

Rook’s eyes darkened with lust and hunger when she closed in on his lips. It was obvious just how eager he was when his tongue entered her wet cavern. He moaned, finding bliss in such an intimate act shared between him and the girl.

“Mon ange, my cum tastes divine on you.”

As they did this, Vil quickened his thrusts, hitting every sweet spot in the process and making her cry out. Her body felt as though it was on fire with every thrust. Her walls hugged his thick cock, tightening around it.

“Mr. Schoenheit… Mr. Hunt…” Mari gasped, breathing heavily as she pulled away from the hunter, his seed dripped onto her breasts. “It feels so good…”

Rook leaned down to lick her bud, nibbling on it lightly. “Oh, my dear slut, you’re doing so well. But please, call us by our first names.” he praised her. She bit her lip.

“Ara? You’ve tightened around me when you were called a slut.” Vil smirked. “Does that mean you want to be treated like one?”

Mari couldn’t answer as the knot tightened more and more, needing release soon.

Smack!

“Ah!”

He gave her an icy glare, slowing his thrusts to a torturous pace. “I asked you a question, whore. I expect you to answer.”

She nodded frantically, desperate for relief. “Yes! Please treat me like your cumslut. I am nothing more than a toy for your pleasure.”

He hummed, smirking. “That wasn’t so hard now, wasn’t it? And for that, you’re allowed to cum now. Remember to thank me for filling you with my seed.”

Vil started going at a brutal pace. Fast squelching noises could be heard. The room was permeated with the scent of sex.

“Ah! Yes, thank you, Vil! Thank you!” Mari cried out repeatedly as she started going cross-eyed with pleasure.

And with one final thrust to her g spot, she squealed. She saw stars in her vision as euphoric bliss engulfed her senses. The knot in her loins snapped. She felt his seed flood her cunt before he slowly pulled out, some cum dripped onto the floor.

Mari panted heavily before collapsing, then was caught by Vil. He brought her over to the bed, laying her on it. Then, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You did well, my dear,” he praised her.

He turned around and started untying his husband’s constraints. The rope dropped to the floor.

Rook got up from the chair and approached her with a smirk. She looked up, a bit confused.

Vil turned to her. “I did say that we had the whole night to convince you after all. Don’t be so surprised.” He sat down, observing them with his lilac eyes.

“Ah, mon petit lapin, how I’ve waited to ravish you for so long.” Rook licked his lips as he neared her. “Now I can do it all night long.”