#now i most certainly have become acquainted with them

[al-mayriti]

i paid the toll for glory (fresh natural orange juice and meals by the sea) in blood, sweat and tears (i got stung like a thousand times by mosquitoes and it was so very hot and so very humid)

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited

➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write

logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”

“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).

“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.

you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.

he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.

“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”

the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”

you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.

“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”

“it’s a gift! you keep those!”

“oh… right…”

he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 

“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 

the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”

“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”

“first what??”

“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”

“i have to name it?”

“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.

“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”

“that’s such a shitty name—”

“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”

[harunayuuka2060]

Vil: *is not amused by MC's decision to visit him in Pomefiore. Moreover, after elegantly and gracefully subduing the students who tried to stop them, he had no choice but to let them in*

Vil: I trust you won't waste my time with such pointless requests.

MC: You're the only person I could think of who can do it safely, since your ability requires specific conditions to be met.

Vil: *frowns* Who told you that?

MC: I received the information from a reliable source.

Vil: Azul.

Vil: ...I see. Unfortunately, we're neither friends nor close acquaintances. I don't grant favors simply because someone asks.

MC: The acting skills of the actors in your Film Studies Club need improvement.

Vil: What did you say?

MC: I watched your members practice, and they came across as nothing more than wannabe protagonists.

Vil: ...

MC: ...

Vil: They are inexperienced because they have never had real acting work.

MC: Even so, you are a professional actor and model, although you may lack experience as an acting mentor.

Vil: ARE YOU TRYING TO PROVOKE ME?!

MC: That is not my intention.

MC: In fact, I can provide suggestions for enhancing the acting skills of your actors, especially since you mentioned that my acting skills are superb. *smiles*

Vil: ...

Vil: The last time, they didn't react negatively when I rejected them at the audition. So why are they bothering me now?

Vil: ...

Vil: Alright, I will permit you to be an acting mentor, but only for a week.

MC: That's more than enough time. In return, once you see improvements in your actors, will you finally grant me the favor I'm asking for?

Vil: Yes.

MC: Then we have a deal.

Rook: Roi du Poison, you chose MC as the acting mentor for your club? *genuinely surprised*

Vil: I know. A bad decisio—

Rook: Non! You certainly made the right choice!

Vil: *raised an eyebrow* How so?

Rook: Chevalier des Roses has been praising them because the Heartslabyul students have been behaving exceptionally well around MC.

Vil: The Pomefiore students aren't fans of them, Rook—Hold on a moment.

Vil: ...

Vil: *squints his eyes at Rook*

Vil: Are you...?

Rook: ...

Rook: *cheerful* Oui!

Vil: *facepalm*

Sebek: MC-sama! You shouldn't offer your help to commoners like them!

MC: ...

MC: Don’t most of the students from Pomefiore come from distinguished families?

Sebek: Yes, but you are still above them!

MC: ...

MC: Sebek, I don't think I need to worry about the class system since I don't have the prominent traits of the Draconia clan.

Sebek: MC-sama...

Lilia: *appears* Oho~ That's not true at all.

Lilia: Only ignorant fools would believe you don't come from a noble lineage.

Lilia: Because just look at you~!

Lilia: You're adorable and sweet! Just like Maleanor before she turned into a menace.

Sebek: L-Lilia-sama!

MC: ...

Lilia: *knows that they're planning something*

MC: Would you be let down if I turned out like my grandmother?

Lilia: *chuckles* Not at all.

Lilia: But surely, you'll let me see how this unfolds, right?

MC: *smiles apologetically*

Lilia: Aww... No?

Jamil: *feels satisfied that MC seems to be becoming more open with Kalim*

Jamil: I knew it. They may seem reserved, but they're genuinely naive at heart.

Jamil: *reviews the document he prepared to position himself as the new dorm leader of Scarabia once Kalim leaves NRC*

Jamil: My parents can't blame me because the world is dangerous for Kalim, and I can't always protect him.

Jamil: *couldn't help but smile*

Jamil: Soon, I will be saying farewell to you, Kalim.

MC: ...

MC: *with a serious expression* It appears you believed you had this all planned out, Jamil Viper.

[saladscream]

Merlin’s chest is a novelty.

And an unexpected one.

Because this is the first time Arthur has seen it.

His manservant doesn’t really make it a habit to traipse around the citadel bare-chested, and in all the years they’ve known each other Arthur has never found a good enough reason to make the man shed his shirt. Therefore, since there is no guessing when such a rare occurrence might happen again, Arthur’s eyes are presently drinking in the expanse of pale skin and its enticing, wings-shaped dusting of dark hair, like his crown depends on it.

It’s a lot to take in at such short notice, but Arthur’s keen gaze is certainly doing its utmost to commit to memory the taut planes of the deceptively firm pectoral muscles, the dusky softness of the shy nipples and the tender ridges of the nervous abs. There’s also a tantalising trail of short black hair leading Arthur’s heretofore relatively honourable focus from Merlin’s navel to a wondrous place down below, where the confines of Merlin’s trousers hide what no self-respecting prince has any self-admitted desire to become acquainted with.

Oh and there must be a bit of a cold draft where Merlin’s standing because the pecs are heaving, the abs are tensing, and the nipples are tightening into sinfully hard, pointy nubs before Arthur’s very eyes. They look stiff and sullen, and the flat of Arthur’s tongue tingles with an unholy longing that shall remain scrupulously denied.

So, indeed, it is a lot to take in.

Especially as there’s a confounding amount of arcane squiggles daubed in ochre and woad all over Merlin’s chest, utterly spoiling the view as far as Arthur’s concerned.

His outraged bellow of ‘What the HELL have you two been doing?!’ is aimed at both Lancelot and Merlin, who exchange perfectly synchronised guilty glances. ‘The druids insisted on a ritual,’ is Lancelot’s only explanation – though he goes on to hurriedly add ‘just for cleansing,’ exactly as Merlin mumbles about a ‘fertility blessing.’

And yes, well, Arthur could’ve guessed fertility was involved for there’s a conspicuous blue phallus painted in stark and rather disturbing detail, right in the middle of Merlin’s already distracting chest.

Arthur lets out a measured exhale and pinches the bridge of his nose.

In his youth, a savvy maitre d’arme taught him that breathing was the key to staying on an even keel during combat, and although the good man never envisaged that his royal charge would be faced with such an ordeal, the prince is still grateful for the teachings that allow him to keep a dignified and composed front – because it is undeniable that Merlin’s perky nipples are formidable opponents.

In truth, Arthur doesn’t know what is upsetting him most right now: the fact that he cannot lay into said pebbled nubs of sensitive flesh the way they so richly deserve, or the fact that Lancelot got to see them first. Feeling unduly thwarted, he dismisses the two men with an exasperated wave of his fingers and reminds Merlin to put a damn tunic on.

Arthur surrenders to a long-suffering sigh once they’ve left.

He is familiar with woad blue. It is a nuisance to get off your skin.

That dick is going to stay on Merlin’s chest – and on Arthur’s mind – for days.

If not weeks.

[We're nearing the end of this mini-series. Only one more instalment to go, I think. Two if Arthur is feeling chatty and/or sentimental. Many thanks for the reblogs, comments and likes. They're greatly appreciated! ❤️]

Tagged: @miyriu @neptunesyellowsands @dollopole @shuukichan @merlininthedogpark @kintsugikid-moonysversion @toomanyfanficsbruh @blueliketheclues @solnishkomoon @evedaser @storigami @bertytravelsfar @graceless-angel @knightswaypoint

1 - Merlin's eyes

2 - Merlin's lips

3 - Merlin's hands

4 - Merlin's throat

5 - Merlin's hair

6 - Merlin's ears

7 - Merlin's legs

8 - Merlin's forearms

9 - Merlin's chest

10 - Merlin's penis

11 - Merlin's arse

[poisonsage808]

Jealousy

the burning question on everyone’s mind, is john munch the jealous type?

“You a jealous person, Fin?”

His partner scrunched his nose at the question but didn’t immediately shoot it down. He looked around in thought before shrugging his shoulders.

“Can be. I don’t like people touchin’ what’s mine, y’know?”

Unsatisfied with the answer he’s heard a thousand times before, he merely nodded. Fin narrowed his eyes at the unusually silent man. If John was quiet, it meant his head was loud.

“Why you askin’? Some dog pissing on your lawn?”

Unceremoniously, John drops his pen and his head into his hands. “It’s too early for you to be invading my mind with repugnant imagery. Keep your filth to yourself.”

With a snort he couldn’t help, Fin continues, “You started it! What is it, Munch, you getting acquainted with the feeling for the first time?"

He certainly didn’t count himself on the poll of jealous men. Maybe his view is skewered from his years on the force and only seeing the extremes like people becoming violent or winding up dead because of it. One of his ex wives, don’t ask him which, tried to ruffle his feathers by flirting with someone else in front of him but it didn’t have his desired effect. After all, he wasn’t a stranger to a ménage à trois. So maybe it’s because he’s simply superior than to fall victim to the social construct!

Then you came along and introduced him to something worse than mere jealousy.

"Detective!"

John barley glances up from his desk as you're chased down by Officer Peters yet again. The guy was persistent in all the wrong ways, if he focused on his job as much as he did your backside then he might be a half decent cop! You laughed when he told you that. It was a shared desire to keep your relationship under wraps for now, no one but HR needed to know... and Fin, which was a decision he was beginning to regret.

"I get it now." He whispers, leaning further on his partner's desk to watch the scene before them.

"Can I get you a popcorn? Get off my desk!" John hisses, but for once doesn't enforce his words because he's also eavesdropping, just not as painfully obvious as Fin.

Of course he trusts you— and make no mistake, receiving John Munch's trust was like holding the holy grail in your hands. He knows you won't cheat on him, not like you'd have the time anyways. Morning, noon and night you two are together, be it at work or away from it. He was sure you'd be sick of him by now but he's being proved wrong at every turn. You do little things throughout the day, like leave him snacks or sticky notes, that have him wondering how the hell you two hadn't been caught yet!

"Peters," you sigh knowingly, "do you have the Madison file?"

"Getting to that, don't worry.” It infuriates John how quickly the schmuck dismisses you. No, instead of doing his job, Peters laughs and waves an arm out before he crosses them, “In the meantime I was thinkin' that we should could go dancing this weekend. Got a few others comin’ so it'd be a group date— thing— totally casual. Stay out late, have some drinks, y’know, party for once! Whattaya say?”

There it is.

Envy.

Green like jealousy, only it worms deeper and hits all the wrong spots that makes John feel both pissed and vulnerable; an ugly cocktail. Sure, you’re no party animal but most people your age go out, dance, have fun. Instead, you spent your Friday nights sharing takeout in the precinct or on his couch. Dates varied from errands, the bar, going to the bookshop to the occasional (and usually interrupted) dinner at an overpriced restaurant. Munch did it best to spoil you, he did… it just never felt like enough. You deserved more than he could give and that feeling was worse than wanting to punch this guys’ lights out.

“No thanks, Peters. I’d rather hangout with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” He echoes, having the audacity to sound offended.

Abruptly the rooms volume drops, letting everyone hear Fin’s poorly concealed snickers. John picks his jaw off the floor when you throw a glare his way, acting occupied with paperwork he was supposed to be doing. The faint feeling of triumph at your tiny admission is addicting. He can’t stop the smirk that spreads.

Olivia happens to pass by the two at the perfect time, slowing her walk when she catches the gossip.

“A boyfriend, huh?”

Her cheshire grin is aimed right at you. If John didn’t know any better, she might’ve been onto you two. But no, if Olivia knew she would’ve busted his balls for it by now.

Backtracking and trying to catch up to the conversation, Elliot looks around with furrowed brows and suspicious eyes.

“Who has a boyfriend?” He announces even louder, looking at everyone in the room for an answer.

Groaning, you roll your eyes and snap a finger in the officers direction, “Get me the Madison file, Peters, today.”

John sends him a withering glare for making a tsk sound at you.

When you try and walk around the dynamic duo, they block your path and immediately grill you with questions. Yeah, this was exactly why you two didn’t want anyone knowing. One day it would probably blow up in your faces and you’d get an earful, but today it was still your little secret.

“What’s his name?” Elliot asks as he crosses his arms, taking up that ‘disappointed dad’ look.

“So you can look him up? I don’t think so, Stabler.”

Olivia whacks his arm for being so obvious, “What’s he like?”

An obscenely perfect smile breaks across your face. You catch your eyes drifting to John and make it look like you’re rolling them again.

“He’s too smart for his own good, stupidly handsome and worships me like I’m a god. Total package. We done here?”

You snort and push between the detectives, making your way to your desk. They follow after you like hunting dogs going in for the kill.

“Blasphemy is a dangerous game.” Eliot shakes his head with pursed lips, “I don’t like him.”

“Good thing you don’t have to share a bed with him, Stabler.”

Olivia’s laugh has him shooting a glare. He throws his hands up in defeat and walks to his desk, muttering under his breath.

“Too bad you’re off the market,” she winks and lowers her voice slightly, “Munch must be jealous.”

When Olivia left your desk, and Fin left his, the two of you shared a fond, knowing glance.

[tinartss]

psst do u have any more haikaveh fic recs? i read all the ones in your last fic rec post and loved them all ^_^

hello anon i've had this ask marinating in my inbox for months because i wanted to gather enough material to put together a longer list but even though i don't have a ton i figured it's been long enough 😭 i'm happy to hear you enjoyed the last recs! i looked back through the first list and it's truly filled with classics

without further ado here are 10 fics i've read in the past few months that altered my brain chemistry

notes:

most if not all are sfw but check tags before reading👍

organized in no particular order apologies i was lazy this time

was gonna add little comments to each but i’m now realizing that would take up a huge amt of space so. just know that all of these changed the trajectory of my life. thank u fic authors for all u do🫶

matters of the heart by luminvies (T, 11k)

“The art of tarot can be difficult to process, I know,” Al-Haitham says, nodding. “You just have to accept it.” “STOP SAYING THAT,” Kaveh says. Al-Haitham picks a random card from his pile of cards and flips it over to reveal a Genius Invokation HP food card of tandoori roast chicken. “This is going to be your dinner.” “WHY DO YOU KNOW MY DOORDASH ORDER,” Kaveh yells, typing furiously into his phone and brandishing the app in Al-Haitham’s face. “I PLACED THE ORDER RIGHT BEFORE I WALKED THROUGH YOUR DOOR.”

Al-Haitham is a tarot card reader. Kaveh is skeptical.

Tempt Me Away (But I'll Always Be Yours) by snowytuesdays (T, 31k)

"Senior Kaveh! You're early today." "Of course, I was the one who asked to meet, how could I be late?" Kaveh said, a smile automatically forming on his own face. "I don't know, perhaps you got distracted by another fraudster, asking 'Oh Lord Kaveh, will you build me a house'?" "It was that one time," Kaveh said, his cheeks burning slightly. "You just happened to find me at a bad moment." "Certainly, certainly," the scholar said, mirth in his eyes, “How could anyone possibly fool the great Light of Kshahrewar?”

HE'S TAKEN by heartslogos (T, 22.5k)

There's a visiting scholar following Kaveh around, all smiles and sunshine, and Kaveh finds himself torn between his lingering unrequited feelings for a certain someone and this bold newcomer. But Kaveh starts to realise something strange- Alhaitham never appears at the same time as the other guy. Now, as Dehya takes a minute to compose herself and come to terms with the fact that all of this has actually just happened, Dehya turns to look at Al-Haitham and Cyno, reading the absolute resignation on their faces. "Alright, how does she know you're an incredibly athletic swordsman? For all she knows those muscles could be for show. What did you do, do a full work out routine in front of her? Help take down another corrupt regime?" Dehya asks as soon as she's entirely sure that the reporter has been wrestled out of earshot. (Meanwhile, everyone else present has scattered or attempted to erase their presence to become inanimate fixtures in the background.) And then, because this is way more important than that little detail, she continues, "Wow. Damn. I never thought I'd say this, but that reporter is way too into you to be healthy. There's no way you're that hot."

revelation of the silent sands by levvli (G, 2.2k)

Sethos' new family warns him that Alhaitham and Kaveh can't stand each other. He isn't so sure. Written for the Haikavetham Gotcha for Gaza!

a cat's life comes just once by cherotonin (T, 8.4k)

The thing on the floor makes a sound at him. The sound goes something like, Meow. Kaveh had already been recognized as a genius by the time he was learning nursery rhymes, so he is of course very well-acquainted with the sounds and transliterations thereof made by various common animals. In fact, his recall speed for these associations is likely significantly above average. This is why he recognizes so rapidly and adeptly that there is a fucking cat on his floor even though he does not and has never owned a cat. “Meow,” says the cat again. “Yes, I know,” Kaveh says irritably, and then immediately feels bad about it. “I mean.” He clears his throat. “Meow, as well.”

Al-Haitham seizes an opportunity to conduct an unusual experiment regarding Kaveh's usual patterns of behavior. To maximize the integrity of his results, he does not inform the subject of his observations about the study parameters.

Or, Al-Haitham cashes in some vacation days while in cat form, and Kaveh adopts an eccentric stray in his roommate's absence.

the deepest secret by heartslogos (M, 52k)

When Kaveh opens his eyes a field of hills sprawls out before him, onward and onwards. A grass sea with waves of hills, dotted in orange and yellow and purple. Kaveh turns his eyes towards the sky and can only imagine what sunrise or sunset must look like from here. Without knowing it, Kaveh is walking out into the grass, barefoot with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the front laces undone and his hair already messy from just waking up and when he breathes in he chokes, he chokes because as the cool grass sea air dances with him laughter blooms in his lungs and he spreads his arms wide like he could scoop it all up into himself. Like he could find the room for it. Maybe he does. Maybe he can. Who knows? The wonderful thing that Kaveh has discovered about having no memories is that he has no limits. He doesn't remember them. He can be anything. He can be a grass sea. He can be an infinite sunrise. He can be beautiful. The Howl's Moving Castle fusion that I, specifically, asked myself for.

Changes of State by GoWingOvaBored (E, 152k)

“I’ve designed many buildings in my career,” Kaveh begins, the attention of every single person in the crowd fixed on him. “Most of which have been extravagant pieces made to stand tall in our city and glitter.” Kaveh glances down at what must be some notes on the podium, pausing before he looks back up, shining in the bright lights of the stage. “But in recent years, I must admit that my focus has shifted.” Alhaitham leans forward, watching, hoping for something he can't quite admit. Not when the truth is that he’s never known how to say that he is hungry without fear that people will see the truth that he is starving.

Or, a year after the events of the Interdarshan Championship, Alhaitham finally retires

I've connected the dots (What dots? This is sudoku?) by heartslogos (T, 35k)

In which the entirety of Sumeru gets stuck on reading into something that just isn't there.

The Stars Shine Brighter in Your Eyes (but I'll never admit it) by SynapticCryokinetic (G, 32.8k)

Alhaitham has one last job as the Acting Grand Sage of Sumeru - to rescue Sumeru from another potential age of digital slavery. Kaveh was roped in amidst loud wails about his safety and agreed to help Alhaitham in exchange for never having to pay rent again. Features slightly cocky Alhaitham who is romantically oblivious and goofball Kaveh who is equally romantically hopeless.

your fragrance like an accolade by alcazary (T, 16.5k)

"I'm me. I promise, I'm me. You don't like soup— you rail at me whenever I make it because you can't eat it when you read your books. You smile at me whenever I fix your headphones for you, whenever I put a peach candy in your mouth. Alhaitham," it sounds like Kaveh's begging. He should never beg. Not when Alhaitham is going to kill him. He's not—

or: alhaitham gets kidnapped

sorry it's so short this time! it's been taking me longer to finish fics recently since i've been listening to them instead (using microsoft edge's built-in tts, would recommend!) but i hope you find something you like regardless🫡 i have a huge backlog of wonderful fics that i need to read so i shall get cracking on those and report back with more recs soon.....in the meantime if you stumble upon any life changing fics yourself please do share in the comments or tags TY🙏

[dizzyjaden]

❝ WHY ARE YOU SO COLD? ❞

Scaramouche x Gn! Reader

♤ Summary: You get injured on a fatui mission in Inazuma with Scaramouche <3

♤ Warnings: Head injury from blunt force (not severe) that makes you woozy

♤ A/N: Thanks for the attention on the genshin men hcs post! So many new bunnies here. Sorry if this is a little rushed </3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A sharp ring pierces through your ears as you slowly rise from the sudden slumber that had been forced upon you, confusion settling in when you open your eyes to see a blurry hand repeatedly snapping its fingers in front of your face.

"Oh. They aren't dead after all. Go on and thank your luck, boys." A familiar voice speaks. Your vision of blurred shapes and colors slowly adjusts back to normal and finally manages to delineate the image of Scaramouche kneeling down in front of you. Taking in your surroundings, you realize you're on the ground, propped up against a tree, barely sheltered from the downpour of rain, and entirely drenched.

You begin to recall the events that led you here. You can remember that you and the four men that accompanied you were approached by a rather threatening lawachurl that you ended up stuck fighting as they retreated. These men now stood closely together, quivering behind the harbinger examining you. You can't seem to pinpoint the injury you took that caused you to go unconscious, but the dull throbbing in your head wasn't much comfort.

You open your mouth to speak.

"I-"

Scaramouche holds up his index finger directly in front of your face. "Follow my finger please..." He directs your gaze while he carefully moves his hand to the right, and then the left.

"Hm... You might have gotten off easy..." Scaramouche says. "But had I arrived at the scene of your little ruckus a moment later... You have me to thank for your life now, that's for sure."

Your embarrassment visualizes itself by staining your cheeks a bright shade of red. This is your first fatui assignment in Inazuma enacted alongside an actual harbinger, and here you are against a tree with a throb in your head that has certainly become a less-than-admirable sight at this point. On that thought, you brush your hand against your head, it is tender to the touch, but not excruciating.

"Hm... What exactly happened?" Scaramouche asks while standing up straight. "The five of you were supposed to defend the camping grounds."

You are barely acquainted with the four men you were assigned to work with, they do not seem keen on explaining the details of how they abandoned the campground entirely and left you to fight alone. You can not really blame them.

Scaramouche fixates on you instead, awaiting your own explanation rather than hearing it collectively from all of you.

You sigh.

"I recall my four comrades retreating a short while after the battle with the beast began."

Your comrades seem unsure of what to do as Scaramouche turns to face them.

"Is this true? As much as I hate to admit it I wouldn't even be surprised. Fairly new recruits, the lot of you. None of you have been... Broken in just yet." He murmured, a whisk of malice floating in his tone.

Finally, one of your colleagues steps forward and clears his throat.

"It's truly a miracle you arrived when you did, my lord. We retreated because we saw the fight fruitless. There was no way even the five of us could've taken it on."

Scaramouche scoffs at his explanation.

"What a sorry excuse. We are discussing a lawachurl... Yes? There are five of you."

The indigo-haired male sighs heavily and shakes his head. "It only makes sense that the most useless quartet of whiners in Snezhnaya gets thrown at me." He mutters. "I would be less angry, as I am perfectly aware of how unnecessary your company on this mission is. However, your combined incompetence has left someone of potential value injured. That is rather irritating."

The silence is heavy aside from the thundering rain that slaps violently against the terrain. With each moment of quiet that passes, Scaramouche seems to grow more irritable.

"You have nothing more to say?"

The soldiers do not respond. Scaramouche sighs, then lightly claps his hands together and smiles at the group.

"Since you four are clearly out of practice and in desperate need of a little exposure therapy, find me a lawachurl, defeat it, bring me back its horn. Don't come back until you do. You should be thanking me for this opportunity to grow." He orders. "If that doesn't suit your tastes, we can do this... Another way. But it won't be nearly as amusing to you."

"Y-Yes lord harbinger!" The one who spoke before bows swiftly, and practically drags his fearful team off.

Scaramouche glances at you from over his shoulder as you were left alone with him.

"Can you stand?"

Coming from him, any questions feel more akin to orders. Therefore, you begin to shift your weight entirely on the tree behind you, grabbing the trunk with a hand before Scaramouche rushes forward to support you instead. This comes as a surprise to you, but you are in no position to deny his assistance.

"I sincerely apologize... I feel lightheaded, still." You utter, as he pulls you up and allows you to put your weight on his side. His hat instantly protects you from the rain, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. "This normally would not happen... I'm not used to defending others in battle."

"Well... If those bumbling idiots made the cut into the Fatui, I advise you to get used to it, quickly." Scaramouche said cunningly, beginning to walk you back to the campground. "I absolutely despise when they hand easy assignments to new recruits. They are not required to be here, and it always leads to me babysitting."

You can't help but smile slightly, it's not an everyday occurrence you casually converse with harbingers. Sensing the humor in his tone of voice, you just have to engage a bit.

"Ah, is that what you call sending a group of incompetent cowards off to fight large monsters? Babysitting?"

Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

"Trust me when I say that was the kindest I've ever been in this sort of situation."

As he guides you back to the campsite, your mind trails to various thoughts about how stiff and cold he is against your side. You didn't want to make too big of a deal out of the proximity with him, but it was so unexpected. It feels as though every muscle in his body is firmly tense, and his skin is noticeably cooler than the rain that you had just been nearly submerged in moments ago.

Curiously, you steal a side glance at his face as quickly as you can. It was already obvious to you that he is beautiful, but his features are so picturesque and devoid of flaws that they almost look unreal. Doll-like and hand-crafted. Something about him feels uncanny to you.

"Something on your mind?"

You're snapped out of your trance at his words, you swiftly shake your head and remain quiet the rest of the way.

When the two of you arrive at the campsite, he's quick to help you into a tent.

"Alright, rest well-"

"You're leaving again?" You instinctively cut him off.

He raises an eyebrow at your intervention.

"No, I already completed the mission while the rest of you were here." He stated. "But you should sleep, if you're going to be worth anything tomorrow."

You stare at him wordlessly for a few moments. He doesn't seem bothered by the unoccupied silence for whatever reason, but he does eventually speak up once more.

"What is it?"

You smile. "You are a rather interesting individual. I've worked for you a while, but have never gotten to speak to you one one-on-one before."

Scaramouche seems surprised at this, processing your words for a few short seconds.

"Hm? So, that's what you've been thinking of. I thought you were behaving overly placid for someone who just sustained a head injury... Alright then, I'll give you a bit of my time in compensation for working alongside amateurs today." Scaramouche nodded, joining you in the tent. He sat on his knees in front of you.

"You've got my attention. What do you wish to speak to me about?" He asks

A slight hum leaves your lips as you contemplate the confusion you felt before.

"Why are you so... Cold?"

Scaramouche almost seems amused at your words, choking back a snicker by clearing his throat.

"Well... It is raining-"

"You are much colder than the rain." You chime.

This time, he seems at a loss for words. He takes your hands in his own and brushes his chilled fingers over them.

"Why are you so warm?" He asks, an honest demeanour flickered through his eyes.

You shrug slightly.

"Metabolism? Body heat generates in organs... Like your heart."

He nods knowingly, as if you somehow managed to find the answer to the question you'd asked him with that response alone.

"Sleep well tonight, okay?" Scaramouche patted your shoulder. "I will need to make preparations for travel. Let me know if you need anything."

And just like that, he left the tent as you struggled to think of something else to say to him.

"Oh... Goodnight."

[corroded-hellfire]

Like it’s 1999 - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with the peanut butter to my jelly @munson-blurbs ✨

Summary: Your first New Year’s Eve as Eddie’s girl comes with meeting all his old friends at the Harrington’s party. It turns out to be great fun, but losing track of time leads you to miss out on something you’ve been looking forward to.

Note: Wishing a Happy New Year to all of you lovelies!

Warnings: older!eddie, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, talk about shitty parents (gee, I wonder who)

Words: 4.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Walking up to the Harrington house shouldn’t be as daunting as it feels right now. You work here three days a week, bringing Ryan and Luke over to babysit the Munson and Harrington clans together. But you’re not coming here to work today; you’re coming for the New Year’s Eve party Steve and Nancy are throwing. 

The house is now filled with friends and family of the Harrington’s, most of whom you haven’t met. And of the ones you have met, it’s only been a handful of times or in passing since you started babysitting for the Munsons. You’ve been lucky enough to become acquainted with Steve and Nancy over the past months and feel honored enough to call them not just your boyfriend’s friends, but your friends now as well. Max and Lucas will be here and the handful of times you’ve met them have been nice. You’ve had entertaining conversations with Max and even got to spend time with their daughter Tiffany a few times. 

Dustin is another of Eddie’s friends who you’ve seen here and there, but never for long periods of time since he lives too far away to visit regularly. He’s bringing his new girlfriend, Jennifer, tonight, who Eddie has said is great, but this is the first time you’ll be meeting her. And she is just the first one on the list of people you’ll be meeting tonight for the first time. 

Nancy’s little brother Mike and his wife El will be here tonight and you’re just hoping that Mike is as easy to talk to as his sister is. A high school friend named Will is bringing his boyfriend named Cody, but you at least are in the same boat with Eddie on this one because he hasn’t met Cody yet either. And then there’s Robin and Vickie, who you’ve been told have been together since high school. Luckily, Eddie has assured you that Robin can do enough talking for the both of you, so not to worry about any awkward conversations—well, ones with awkward silences, anyway. 

Your slightly uncomfortable, yet enviably cute shoes click as you come to a stop in front of the Harrington’s door. Eddie’s hand squeezes yours and the feeling of his larger hand holding yours so safely has some of your anxiety abating. Eddie had known the moment you two had received the invitation that you would be nervous about this. He left the choice up to you if you wanted to attend or not. Being with Eddie meant getting to know those who are important to him, though. A little discomfort is nothing when you think about it like that.

“We can go, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you now that you’re at the literal threshold of the party. “We don’t have to do this.”

You don’t have to do this is what you know he means. 

With as much fake courage as you can muster, you shake your head and give Eddie the best smile you can manage. “I want to.”

And you do. It’s certainly better than the party your friends from school invited you to tonight. Being in a crowded and smoky bar where you can barely hear yourself think is not your idea of fun. It’s really just an excuse to find someone to kiss at midnight, then take home for some fun for the next few hours until someone gets kicked out and is forced to do the walk of shame. Not something you’d ever been interested in, really. Besides, why be there when you can be with Eddie? 

Your boyfriend knocks on the door and a few moments later a grinning Steve opens it, sporting a pair of novelty “2000” eyeglasses, his hazel brown eyes peering out from the second and third zeroes. There’s music coming from the living room, and you can smell the different hors d'oeuvres that must be set out around the party area. Conversations and laughter float down to the door as well and the prospect of joining in on that makes your tummy do a little flip. 

“Hey, Munson! Lady Munson! Come on in.” Steve’s clearly already gotten into the alcohol. 

Eddie ushers you into the house before him and helps you out of your jacket. Steve takes both of your coats and hangs them in the closet near the front door. The host leads you further into the house and to the room where adults are milling about, glasses of different colored liquor in most hands, and smiles on almost every face. Stepping into this room without any of the children feels odd. This is where you usually wait with the younger ones while the big kids finish up their homework. Part of you wishes the kids were there because they’re always good to use as a bit of a buffer if you need one in social situations. 

Tonight, all Munson and Harrington children are having sleepovers at a grandparent’s house. The Harrington girls are staying with Nancy’s parents, while the boys are with Steve’s. Ryan and Luke are spending the night at Wayne’s, as it’s one of his few precious nights off. 

“You don’t mind that your New Year’s Eve plans are watching the boys?” Eddie had asked.

“Plans? Only plan I have is to take advantage of the night off and get as much sleep as I can.”

“Eddie and the lovely lady that is far too good for him have arrived,” Steve announces to the room. Your cheeks heat up at Steve’s words, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and pushes his friend out of his way. 

It feels like every eye in the room lands on you and it’s making your nerves creep back up. Not everyone is looking at you, you try to assure yourself, but the jitters have settled in and have you feeling self-conscious. What if they don’t like me? you think. These people are practically Eddie’s family. I need them to like me. They’re going to think I’m not good enough. That I’m too young. Too stupid. That I’m just some young girl Eddie decided to have a fun fling with after getting divorced—

Max comes over to your side and it shakes you out of your spiraling thoughts. 

“Hey!” The redhead greets. “It’s so nice to see you again.” She pulls you in for a hug that has your anxious thoughts starting to abate. 

“You too!” you say. “How’s Tiffany?” Can't seem to stop talking about the kids, can you?

“She’s great. Talking and walking now, so a complete handful. Oh!” Max catches the attention of a woman about her height with chin length brown hair who stops and smiles at you. “Have you met El?”

“Nice to meet you.” El timidly but kindly extends her hand and you shake it, beginning an evening of greeting new and familiar faces. 

By the end of your first lap of talking with everyone, you’re pretty sure you remember everyone’s name, but not necessarily how they all relate to one another—-except Mike. The way he and Nancy bicker at one another occasionally keeps it fresh in your mind that he’s her little brother. Not to mention, the drunker Steve gets, the more he begs Mike to call him ‘big bro.’

“You know,” Robin says, nudging Eddie’s arm with her own, “I don’t think we’ve all been together for New Year’s Eve since ‘92.”

Eddie thinks for a moment, rubbing a hand over his mouth and chin. “God,” he says with a laugh. “That was before Luke.”

“And Corroded Coffin performed!” Dustin adds, flashing a smile that seems to be missing a few teeth. 

“You ever see your boyfriend being a rockstar?” Lucas asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

That certainly piques your interest. “I have not.” You turn to Eddie with a giddy smile on your face. 

Sheepishness pinkens Eddie’s cheeks. “I wasn’t a rockstar,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Max almost chokes on her vodka cranberry and lets out a scoff. “Since when are you modest?” she asks with a cocked brow.  

Eddie narrows his eyes at Max and opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt first. “Eddie, shhh, I wanna hear about my rockstar boyfriend!” you tease. “Did you have lots of groupies?”

He groans but drapes his arm over your shoulders as his friends begin to tell you about the band.  

“I don’t even like metal, but they were good,” Robin pipes up from where she’s pouring herself another drink.

“They were weekly regulars at this bar,” Dustin explains. “They would sneak us in because we were too young to get into the bar.”

“Actually,” Max says, turning to Eddie, “so were you.”

Eddie shrugs. “I never questioned it.”

“Anyway,” Dustin continues, practically shaking with excitement, “they could play any metal song you could think of. He learned Master of Puppets in a week, and that song is like twelve minutes long.”

“It’s only eight,” Eddie protests, but his friend ignores him completely. 

“Whatever. The point is, Corroded Coffin was probably the best band this town has ever seen, and it’s all because of Eddie.” He nudges him with an elbow to the ribs. “Hey, do the move!”

Eddie coughs, face fully red. “Henderson, I don’t know what you’re—”

“Yes, you do, because you’re totally blushing right now.” Dustin cackles, turning to you. “It was like this hip thrust thing, but to his guitar—”

“Okay, enough!” Eddie’s face is beet-red, burying his head in his hands. Dustin starts in again, but a glass drops in the kitchen, drawing everyone’s attention. 

“Eddie Munson,” you murmur in his ear, taking advantage of this moment alone, “did you go on stage and hump your poor guitar?” Before he can respond, you tug him by his belt loop. “Can I get a private show later?”

He smirks. “Only for you, baby girl.” 

As it typically goes at parties, people mingle around, always popping in and out of different conversations throughout the evening. You and Max sit on a loveseat off to the side of the room, watching Steve, Eddie, Lucas, and Will take shots. The pair of you shake your heads as you observe the men, watching in amusement as Will tries to pour more shots for everyone, no matter how much they decline. 

Max isn’t quite drunk but is definitely past tipsy.

“How are you feeling hanging around with this ragtag bunch of weirdos?” she asks once the entertainment of watching the men has worn off. 

You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s not as scary as I thought it would be, honestly. And I definitely wouldn’t call you guys weirdos.”

Max pauses, biting her cheek. “It’s really nice to see Eddie with someone who actually appreciates him. Who genuinely loves him, y’know.” She lowers her voice. “I’m not trying to turn this into a bitching session about his ex, but—”

“I am!” More than a few drinks in, Nancy slings one arm over your shoulder and the other around Max’s. The scent of vodka wafts from her mouth. “God, she was the worst! I don’t even know what he saw in her.” She wrinkles her nose. “She wasn’t even that pretty. Like, yeah, maybe a little bit, but not enough to make up for being a total hag!” She cackles like it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

Your mind flashes back to how beautiful Brittany actually is, but Nancy’s true drunk feelings warm your heart.

“Yeah, she’s definitely a piece of work,” you say with a humorless chuckle.

“Oh honey,” Max says, “we all know that’s the understatement of the century. She’s a grade A bitch and any time you want to shit talk her, you’ve got a house full of people here ready to chime in.”

“Really?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Everyone here hates her?”

“Well, I’m not sure if Cody or Jennifer ever met her, but everyone else, yeah,” Max says with a shrug.

A warmth blooms in your chest. Even though you know Brittany is horrific, and Eddie knows it as well, it’s different to hear it from an outside source. His friends could see the relationship from another perspective, and it seems they came to the same conclusion: Brittany is a spawn of satan. It’s validating and it also makes everyone’s kindness tonight mean that much more to you. 

“One time,” Nancy slurs as she perches herself on the arm of the loveseat, “the four of them were gonna drive to Lake Michigan for a long weekend. Luke was only like…I dunno, maybe 18 months? Anyways, poor little thing had a cough, so Brittany took him to the doctor. She comes home and tells Eddie that Luke’s got the sniffles and they’re all good to go. Turns out, Luke had goddamn pneumonia, but she didn’t want it to ruin her getaway.”

The outrage that is coursing through your veins has you gripping your glass so tightly that you start to lose feeling in your hand.

“How have none of you killed her?” you ask, making sure to keep your voice even when you really want to scream.

“Cause that moron,” Max says, nodding across the room at Eddie, “hadn’t come to his senses yet. Or at least, hadn’t let us know that he had.”

“Thank God he found you,” Nancy says. “For him and the boys.”

“I thank God I found them,” you say, the alcohol you’ve had making you a little more sentimental than usual. Though it’s something you always feel, it’s not something you’d always say out loud to people that aren’t Eddie. 

Across the house, the guys are having their own little meeting. Steve leans against the counter in an attempt to look mysterious and suave, but his swaying gait gives away his inebriated state. 

“Munson, could you stop staring at your girlfriend for two seconds and help me with this tray?” he asks, fumbling with a platter of cheese cubes and crackers. 

“Huh? What?” Eddie stutters, Steve’s words registering after a beat. Heat creeps up the back of his neck: caught red-handed. 

Will slings his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him close enough that Eddie can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Aww, you found your Cody!” Will coos. 

Eddie’s nose scrunches in confusion. “I’m not following, Byers.”

Will rolls his eyes as though this is obvious information that Eddie should already know. “You found someone who makes you feel happy and warm and loved. Someone you wanna marry someday.” He waggles his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie tries to play it cool; inside, butterflies flutter in his stomach. Marrying you? Sounds like a dream, one that he’s not sure will ever come to fruition. 

Will is undeterred by Eddie’s sudden shyness, doubling down on his statement. “Hey, listen,” he drunkenly slurs, “I don’t need to be into women to know that she,” he points to you, “is a total upgrade from, well,” he lowers his voice, “y’know.”

Dustin swoops in, sensing that the conversation might nosedive from playful banter to pure discomfort. “Okay, let’s get you some water.” He leads Will away, shushing him as they walk. 

Eddie takes a swig of beer, grateful that the interrogation is over, but then Steve gently adds, “Not to focus on the ex or anything, but you really do seem…I dunno, more like yourself lately. In a way that you didn’t with Brittany.”

“Is that a good thing?” He’d like to think so, but his insecurities often cloud his judgment like a dense fog. 

Steve laughs. “Despite my better judgment, yeah. It is.” He claps him on the back. “She’s a keeper, dude. Don’t fuck it up.”

Eddie chuckles and gives a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll try not to.”

Both men look up as they hear footsteps approaching them. Eddie’s brow furrows in concern when he sees tears in your eyes as you walk up to him. He reaches out a hand and you place your smaller one in his.

“What’s got you all upset, Sweetheart?”

You’re too tipsy to properly articulate your emotions after talking with Max and Nancy about how lucky the two of you are to have found each other, so you just murmur, “you.”

Steve laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Guess I spoke too soon.”

You let your hand fall from Eddie’s so you can snake your arms around his middle. Letting your eyes fall closed, you rest your head against your boyfriend’s chest.

“I love you so much,” you mumble.

“I love you too, princess,” Eddie says against your hair before pressing a few kisses there.

Steve can’t help but smile at the interaction between the two of you. It’s so nice to see his best friend in a relationship where he’s appreciated and loved for who he is. The way you both look at one another leaves Steve with no doubt about how happy you make each other. Wanting to give the two of you your privacy, Steve quietly slips away. 

Joy buzzes in your stomach, only amplified by the alcohol in your system. You lift your head from Eddie’s chest and lean up to press your lips against his. The kiss is soft and sweet, with no urgency. When the two of you finally part, your boyfriend chuckles and licks over his lips.

“Had vodka, huh?” he asks.

“Do I taste like it?” You giggle. “You taste like beer. And a little like rum.”

“That’s ‘cause I had a shot of rum and have been nursing my beer for an hour,” he says, fingers tracing patterns over the soft fabric of your sweater covering your back. 

“‘N you’re not drunk,” you state.

“I’ve got a pretty high tolerance, baby. Plus, need to be able to drive us home later. Got some precious cargo right here,” he says as he pulls your body up against his. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, grinning as you think about the good time you’re having with Eddie’s old friends. “I like your friends. Will’s funny.”

“Will is plastered,” Eddie says with a chuckle. 

Before you get a chance to respond, Robin is tugging on your arm and whining about how you can kiss Eddie anytime. Eddie reluctantly lets you go, playfully rolling his eyes as you’re pulled away. It makes you giggle before taking control of your own feet again and following Robin toward an empty spot on a couch.

Robin asks you about school, how you like it, what classes you’re taking next semester, and what you’re studying. At first, it seems like these are generic questions that someone asks of a college student, which confuses you because you’d thought you and Robin would be past that stage by now. But as she keeps talking, Robin reveals that she’s been thinking about going back to school and wants to know more about what it's like. Once you know that, you’re able to give her more detailed information about what it's like on campus rather than give the stilted, robotic answers you tend to give when asked the basic questions. 

Vickie slips into your conversation at some point, followed by Mike, Dustin, and Jennifer. Your drink keeps getting refilled to where you’re not sure how much you’ve had to drink by the time the conversation peters out. The only thought that can get any traction in your brain is how badly you need to use the bathroom after drinking so much.

You excuse yourself from the group and make your way towards the hallway where the kids’ rooms are. This area of the house is as familiar to you as the back of your hand from working here so much, which is a good thing as you stagger with next to no coordination. Once the bathroom door is shut behind you, it takes all of your concentration to focus on what you have to do. That leaves no brain power to pick up on the cheering that’s coming from out in the living room. 

Out amongst his friends, Eddie’s asking where you are, and Vickie is the one to tell him that she saw you headed towards the bathroom. Eddie thanks her and heads towards the back of the house, eager to get to you as the time until midnight shrinks by the second. Your boyfriend turns the corner and is about to knock on the bathroom door when he sees that it’s wide open. He pokes his head inside and it looks like the room hasn’t been touched the whole evening. Realization hitting him, Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his face.

“God damn it, Harrington. Why is your house so big?”

He makes his way back towards the front of the house, figuring out that you must be using the bathroom in the front hallway, the one you’d be most likely to use when you’re here watching the kids. The buzzing house makes it difficult for Eddie to navigate his way to you as quickly as he wants, knowing how upset you’ll be if you miss your midnight kiss. Eddie swears under his breath as he looks down at his watch and it tells him it’s 12:01. Finally arriving at the right bathroom, he knocks on the door.

It swings inward and you step out, grinning when you see Eddie there.

“Hi!”

Even in his frustration, Eddie can’t help but smile at your excitement at seeing him—alcohol-fueled or not.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, taking your hand and pulling you close to his chest. “It’s after midnight.”

“No, it’s not,” you say with a shake of your head. “Cause at midnight we gotta kiss.”

“We missed it, princess,” he tells you, keeping his voice soft.

It takes your brain longer than normal to process his words, but once it does, a frown pulls at your mouth and your eyes get wide. Eddie shouldn’t think it’s as adorable as he does.

“It’s my fault,” you say. “I-I was in the bathroom. I didn’t know what time it was!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, wrapping both of his arms around you. He rubs his hand up and down your back, soothingly. “It’s not your fault. “I tried to come get you and I was late, too.”

“We missed our first New Year’s Eve kiss.” With a whine, you bury your face in Eddie’s chest as tears begin to fall. Strong arms hold you tightly and the weight of Eddie’s head rests against the top of your own.

“Do you want to go back out to the party?” Eddie asks after a few minutes of just holding you.

Sniffling, you shake your head.

“M’sorry, Eddie.”

“Hey.” Eddie cups your face in his hands and tilts your head up. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You and I are going to have New Year’s kisses together for the rest of our lives. And I plan on kissing you every day for the rest of forever, even after we’re dead.” Eddie feels the tightness in his chest lessen as you let out a small giggle at his joke. “So, one late kiss is nothing, sweetheart.” He leans in and presses his lips gently against yours, trying to convey the love and adoration he has for you as he cradles your face. When you pull back, Eddie raises his eyebrows at you in question—did that help?

Much to Eddie’s relief, you nod and wipe your eyes. They’re still sore and puffy, but that will fade. Plus, that’s easy to blame on alcohol consumption. 

“Do you want to go home?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head.

“We can stay a little longer,” you say.

“We don’t have to.”

“Wanna have more fun with you.”

That has a small smile growing on your boyfriend’s face.

“I like the sound of that.”

The party winds down now that midnight has passed, and you and Eddie stay for a little while longer. As guests start to leave, you find yourself mingling with everyone and sharing last laughs with his old friends. Eventually, you and Eddie bid those who haven’t left yet goodnight and head back to his apartment. 

By the time you arrive home, it’s almost one in the morning. Eddie tosses his keys down on the counter while you shuffle into the kitchen for a glass of water. Sleepily, Eddie follows in behind you but perks up with a smile when he glances at the clock.

“Hey, princess?”

“Hmm?”

“C’mere.”

Body just going through the motions in your tired state, you put the glass down and Eddie tugs you up against his body.

“It’s almost one,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you say, though it sounds more like a question.

“It’s about to be the New Year in the next time zone. So, if we kiss at one, I think that counts as a New Year’s kiss. Don’t you?”

Understanding fights its way through your hazy brain until it clicks. A small smile lights up your face as you nod.

“That sounds like a good plan to me.”

Eddie turns his head to look at the clock on the wall, the second hand racing around towards the nine. Your eyes track the ticking of the thin black line as well, holding your breath as you wait for the hour to strike.

Just as the second hand lands on the twelve, Eddie tilts your chin up and catches your lips with his own. A warm and fuzzy feeling that has nothing to do with your drinking envelops your body as you wrap your arms around his neck. Eddie’s hands rest firmly on your waist, holding onto you as if his life depended on it.

When you part, you rest your foreheads against one another’s. The small, dark apartment shrouds the two of you in shadow, only a sliver of the moon shining in the window giving you enough light to see each other by. The night is quiet around you, no movement breaking the peace as you and Eddie simply gaze into one another’s eyes.

“Happy New Year’s, baby.”

[messiahzzz]

gale takes every opportunity to gush about his spouse, and it goes without saying that even his students won't be spared from his rants at the mere mention of them. at first, it’s kind of endearing but eventually, the exasperation is etched into his student's faces. there is this air of mystery surrounding their new professor, which causes them to be more than a little intimidated. he is a (former) chosen of mystra? one of the saviors of baldur’s gate? AND he may or may not have a netherese orb lodged in his chest that can erupt at any given minute if he gets too agitated?! the first time one of his students asks him about his adventures and how they managed to defeat the netherbrain, he replies with his usual enthusiasm.

“ah, you wish to hear about our many escapades? worry not, it is only natural that my presence beguiles curiosity. i suppose there is no harm in indulging you. after all, who would i be if i didn't encourage knowledge in all forms? our world was turned upside down. quite literally on one occasion, mind you. we were thrown into chaos, we survived certain peril and destruction, but nonetheless persevered!” his students let him continue for several minutes, him passionately recounting their adventures. until another one pipes up and asks him if he can tell them more about the other heroes he traveled with and if he would be willing to introduce them sometime. he then gets that certain glint in his eyes (oh no, he’s been enabled).

“i certainly can! you see, my spouse inevitability, if not always voluntarily, assumed the role of the leader of our merry little band of misfits. without their guidance and immutable patience i most certainly wouldn’t stand here in front of you all today. their strength and unwavering tenacity are unmatched! they showed remarkable guile and courage throughout our adventures. shepherding each of us throughout these tumultuous times and guiding us onto a road of redemption, recovery, and healing. they were a beacon for us all. reminding us to take solace in our blossoming bonds during our darkest of times.. their presence and support are nothing short of a blessing. even now i marvel at the sheer good fortune that caused our paths to intertwine. they truly are the light of my life. in fact, during one occasion—“

“professor dekarios, we’ve heard that you are also acquainted with the blade of frontiers. is this true?”

- “indeed i am. although he has discarded that title by now. you see, my spouse—“

it eventually becomes common knowledge at blackstaff academy that the most efficient way to distract him from collecting assignments is to merely ask him about his partner.

[seasidefallenangel]

“what was your family like?”

the question causes dazai to freeze in his tracks, in the middle of grabbing a bag of chips from your cabinet. you’d never once asked something like this, anything about his past life at all. he was immensely grateful for the fact you’d let him reveal parts of himself over time at his own pace, leading to the comfortable spot in your current relationship. 

until this moment, that is.

with a nervous laugh, he calls back out to you, “why are you asking, hm? do you plan to offer them a dowry in exchange for my hand in marriage?”

deflecting an undesirable situation was a specialty of his in most cases - those of which generally didn’t involve you. unfortunately for him, you had become rather proficient in the vernacular and signs of dazai-ese, and can easily tell what he’s trying to do. even so, nothing about your tone nor body language indicated anything forceful ; rather, it was similar to as if you had questioned him about dinner plans or that one faulty fire hydrant near your house.

“obviously not, dumbass,” you snorted, scrolling on your phone for a bit before finishing the thought, “i was just curious. neither of us ever talk about it.” those words struck yet another horrible truth in dazai’s mind - that despite how much he desired as such, he did not know every last detail about you, every thought that ran through your head, every movement you would make before your body reacted. he was well aware he had never heard about your family from your own mouth, but the reason as to why hadn’t necessarily crossed his mind until this moment. and well, if he were to ask you the same but refuse to answer the question you originally asked, he’d seem a bit too hypocritical.

he finds his way back into the living room where you lay on the couch. you pay him no mind as he sits across from you, gazing at your figure and the simplicity of what you two have shared. it was almost too natural - the progression of acquaintances to friends to whatever exactly was going on now. the word “boyfriend” had never spilled from your mouth in reference to him, but what else would you call someone that you essentially live and share a bed with every night for months on end? that you get a good morning kiss from when you wake up and give a goodnight kiss to before drifting off? were all the outings you had classified as dates, or just two very close friends hanging out constantly?

dazai disliked not having answers, but he hated the idea of asking you for them even more.

as he watches you relax on the couch, dazai comes to the conclusion that he probably hated you as a whole in some alternate life ; even in this one, had you been unlucky enough to know him 5 years prior. you were so polarizing in the sense that you accepted everything as it came, never tried to fight the reality that had been thrust upon you. whereas dazai had struggled to understand his own humanity, or lack-there-of, you embraced it and never bothered to deny what was truly in front of you. to say he was jealous of you sounded a bit childish in his eyes, but there was certainly something about you he wanted to take and give to himself.

“i’m all ears, my love. tell me about the people who graced me with such an angel as yourself!” he responds in hopes that you’ll give in and let him avoid revealing the painstaking truth once more.

you quirk up an eyebrow with a sardonic smile and shake your head, resting back on the arm of the couch. “i’ll tell you once you tell me, deal?”

… dazai supposes he’ll have to live in ignorance about your family for the time being.

[fan-fantasies]

Do You Jest?

A/N: surprise!! I’ve been feeling really down lately so I figured maybe writing might help. This kinda sucks and sounded better in my head but oh well. Enjoy!

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Warnings: Aegon being a shit, salacious language, making out and mild breeding kink if you squint, heavy use of wife and husband

Summary: you’ve known the royal family for most of your life, but never would you have guessed Aemond’s reaction to your own betrothal.

Part Two

“You’re drooling again, brother,” Aegon chuckled. Aemond shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to you.

“Don’t you have some handmaid to go fondle?” The prince scoffed.

“Maybe later. I’d much rather join you in ogling our lady.”

“She most certainly is not your lady and I was not ogling!”

Aemond was becoming more annoyed with his older brother by the minute. He couldn’t help it if his eye was drawn to you- your brilliant dress dazzling under candlelight as you stood on the edge of the dance floor.

A few suitors had asked for a dance but you declined each one, feigning an upset stomach preventing you from twirling about.

“You know her betrothal is being announced in a few days,” Aegon whispered. Aemond’s eye widened at his brother’s words.

“To whom is she betrothed?”

“How should I know?” Aegon scoffed. “Some fortunate bastard that will be between her thighs night after night-“

Aemond grabbed Aegon by his collar and pulled him closer.

“Do not speak of her that way ever again,” he growled. Aegon grinned at him before pulling his hand from his shirt.

The elder brother got up from the table and made his way over to you as Aemond watched in panic. He could see Aegon whispering something to you and your eyes flicker over to where he was seated. You nodded and said something back before heading in his direction.

Aemond thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He had known you since you were both children, your family being close acquaintances with his own. You wouldn’t say you were friends- Aemond always being too shy to approach you, but he had watched from afar as you grew into an amazing young woman.

He often found himself having sinful thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything else when you were around.

You were everything he wished for in a woman; kind, intelligent, beautiful, and gentle. You cared for his family as if they were your own and he was eternally grateful for that. Others often found it easy to judge them, but you never did.

He had secretly hoped that his mother might betroth you to him at some point but when Aegon told him your betrothal was to be announced, all hopes of that disappeared.

“My prince, I was told you wished to speak to me?” You asked, appearing in front of him. He could see Aegon snickering behind you.

“No, I didn’t want to speak with you,” he said without thinking, his tone harsher than he intended.

“Oh…I’m sorry for bothering you then,” your eyes dropped to the floor and Aemond felt horrible. He didn’t mean to come across so rude; this is why he kept his distance from you. He would get so nervous that he always said the wrong thing.

“No! I mean, I didn’t request to speak with you but I should like to- speak with you, that is. You are never a bother, lady,” he rushed out.

“It’s quite alright, Prince Aemond. I see now that Aegon was jesting with me. Please, excuse me,” you mumbled before rushing off. He watched as you left the great hall completely and he wished nothing more than to follow you. But first, he needed to do something about Aegon.

Before he could leave the table, his mother called his name.

“Aemond, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Alicent said softly.

“I’m not in the mood, mother,” he sighed. He looked around for Aegon, but found him nowhere.

“It is quite important.”

“Tomorrow, then. We shall break fast together and we can discuss it,” he said before bowing and excusing himself. His mother sighed as she watched her son stalk from the party.

Aemond wandered the halls until he stopped in his tracks. He saw a figure on the balcony facing away from him but he easily recognized your dress. He wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, but he wanted to make up for earlier.

“My lady, please excuse this disturbance,” he said, slowly coming up behind you.

You didn’t turn to face him or even acknowledge he was there.

“I would like to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“T’is Aegon who has offended me, my prince. For jesting that you wished to speak to me, for getting my hopes up,” you said quietly.

“I shall deal with him once I can find him, I promise you,” Aemond nearly snarled. He hates that Aegon has upset you, but even more so that he somehow contributed to it.

“Please don’t, I do hate it when you two fight,” you sighed.

“As you wish, lady. Just know you needn’t an excuse to come speak to me. It is never a bother to be in your presence.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, my prince,” you bowed slightly and Aemond’s heart sank a little.

“Please, just call me Aemond,” he begged. “Should you not find that too inappropriate. We’ve known each other so long, I hardly think titles are necessary.”

“Titles are everything these days,” you sighed. Aemond had a feeling he knew what you were talking about and his breath caught in his throat.

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard the news. I do wish you every happiness,” he said through gritted teeth. You finally turned to look at him.

“You do?”

“Of course. That is the least you deserve.”

“And what is it that you think I deserve?” You asked. Aemond was hesitant to answer. He didn’t want to reveal his true feeling, both for you and about your betrothal.

“You deserve kindness, loyalty, and honesty. You deserve someone who loves you and only you. Someone handsome and brave,” he trailed off while looking at his hands entwined before him.

“I’ve often found you to be all of those things,” you told him. His eye shot up to your face, only to find you looking at him curiously.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Are you, too, jesting with me, my prince?” You asked, becoming irritated.

“I would never, sweet girl. I just don’t know why you’d grace me with such kind words.”

“Should I not be kind to my husband to be? I do not wish for a stale, loveless marriage. So if that is where we are headed please just tell me now,” you pleaded. Aemond found no hint of deceit in your face and he allowed himself for a moment to feel a sliver of hope.

“My lady, who are you betrothed to?”

“You really don’t know?” You asked.

“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“Aemond, we are to be married,” you said, reaching out to touch his hands. You hesitated slightly but before you could pull back he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him.

“We are to be married?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes, my prince,” you finally smiled at him and he swore he had never been graced with the sight of anything more beautiful.

“Not your prince, your husband,” he said before crashing his lips to yours. You were stunned to say the least, not knowing Aemond harbored such feelings for you.

He held your body flush to his and the rest of the world melted away as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away but you chased him, reconnecting your lips once again. He chuckled and indulged you once more before breaking the kiss.

“How inappropriate of you, my sweet wife,” he smirked.

“You started it!” You gasped playfully. “You know, I feared that you were disappointed when you heard of our betrothal. When Aegon told me you wished to speak to me I hoped for a moment that maybe you were okay with it. But then you dismissed the idea of speaking to me so easily I knew the idea of marrying me would only repulse you more- but now I’m not so sure.”

“I swear to you I didn’t know. I believe my mother wished to tell me at the banquet but after Aegon’s little joke and how I feared I wounded you, I wouldn’t hear her. Aegon knows how I feel for you and he knows how nervous I am around you which he used to his advantage.”

“You have no need to be nervous around me, it is I who has always been nervous around you. You’re so handsome and intimidating, I feared gaining your affection to be nearly impossible,” you sighed.

“Fear no more, wife. My affections have always been yours and they will always be yours alone.”

“You keep calling me ‘wife’ yet I am only just barely your betrothed,” you chuckled. His gaze darkened and he leaned in to kiss you again.

“The title matters not to me; I am yours and you are mine,” he promised before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hands grasped at your ass beneath your gown and your legs grew weak.

“Aemond…” you whimpered.

“Keep that up and I won’t be able to wait until our wedding night to fuck my seed into you,” he growled in your ear.

“Do not tease me, husband,” you whined.

“That’s what you think teasing is, little wife?” He chuckled. “You have no idea what lies ahead then.”

Part Two

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

Have you done a piece yet for jean being jealous? If not you totally should. 😋

captain jaeger and jealous jean

pairing: jean kirstein x f!reader (x eren sort of, not really)

wc: 1.8k+

tw: alcohol, inebriation, fluff, cursing, eren’s a dickhead, a little heated at the end 🤏🏻

a/n: thank you for this request! i hope you like it! also not proofread

if you’d ask him, jean would define jealousy as the deafening sound of a pulse canceling out every other noise. he’d also say he doesn’t get jealous. was he competitive? sure, but that didn’t mean he was jealous.

athletic rivals with eren, those two were always butting heads about something, anything. jean was easy to rile up and eren was a relentless tease. eren found an extreme amount of joy in raising the other boy’s blood pressure. but no, jean wasn’t jealous of eren. he hated him and that idiotic man-bun of his. the way he’d blink a certain way and some easily fooled girl would slip him her number. the way things came naturally to him. it wasn’t jealous, he’d say, it’s hatred.

y/n wasn’t the jealous type, either. there were girls prettier than her and she knew that. nothing she could do about it, so she didn’t worry. besides, she didn’t want to be the type of person to make every other girl her competition. she felt like a plain jane and she was contempt with it, oddly enough. she attracted just enough attention to feel pretty every now and then.

so when eren jaeger, the gorgeous captain of the baseball team, chose to talk to her at his house party, she felt divine. she felt seen.

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

typical pop music flooded the house, drowning out any sentences that would normally otherwise be coherent. eren jaeger’s living room was flooded with girls in tight clothes and boys who were just a little too sweaty. it was cramped, almost making you feel claustrophobic.

you’d never been to a party before. at least, not the one’s you’d seen on the television. the type where people were passed out in random spots, where the scent of booze lingered heavily, where there were people making out upstairs in the bedrooms. this party certainly exceeded your expectations, despite it still being early on the night.

you’re not quite sure why you’re here. your friend, mikasa, had invited you earlier on in the day. she said that eren had wanted you to come. and with her being his childhood best friend, you believed her. mikasa and you weren’t exactly besties or anything of the sorts, but she was more than an acquaintance.

there you were, standing in the middle of the most popular boy’s living room, dazed and alone. an overwhelming desire to become a wallflower strikes you. fighting the battle of a lifetime, you swat away your urge to be antisocial and head to the kitchen where the drinks are sure to be plenty.

the kitchen is only slightly less crowded than the previous room. a group of people are huddled around the kitchen island. fortunately, you identify mikasa by her jet black wolf cut.

“hey, mikasa.” you shout to upstage the music.

mikasa spins around, revealing a red solo cup in her right hand. ‘mik’ is written sloppily on it in black sharpie. her eyes, with no less than half a pound of eyeliner on them, skim you up and down. as you start to worry about your outfit choices, she smiles.

“y/n, you came,” she starts, “you look cute.” mikasa compliments as she wraps her arms around you.

there’s no chance for you to respond with an attempt of feigning your belonging because eren is breaking away from his spot at the counter. he stands at a crisp six foot one, towering over both mikasa and you. like everyone else at the party, eren is sporting a red cup, holding it by it’s brim. ‘captain’ is written messily on it, along with the number ‘17.’

a few pieces of his dark hair frame his face. wonderous green eyes that search yours. a chiseled jaw you imagine slicing your finger open on.

oh, just looking at him you could bleed.

“hey. what’re you drinking?” he asks, tilting his head down.

casual. his words are casual. like it isn’t your first time truly holding a conversation with him.

“anything, i don’t really…” you trail off as your eyes flicker between his.

this makes eren smile. he throws up one finger on his left hand, signaling you to allow him a moment to find something he finds suitable for you. he rummages through the fridge and pulls out a red wine cooler.

“this good?” he asks, raising it in the air.

“yes,” you yell back whilst nodding your head.

eren comes back as mikasa gives you a look. she tilts her head up and shakes it at her friend before leaning back onto the counter, rejoining her previous conversation.

he stands before you, extending the hand that holds your drink. just as you go to grab it, he raises it so that you can’t reach it. a smile is painted across his face, revealing bright white teeth.

you blush.

“you can have it,” he cocks his head to the side, “after you do a shot with me and my friends. i’ll even let you use it as a chaser.”

your brain has gone completely fuzzy. eren jaeger invited you to his party, gets a drink just for you, and is now peerpressuing you to indulge in bad decisions.

“okay,” you blink. “i can do that.”

he grins and to your surprise, he throws an arm over your shoulder. “thatta girl,” he says, just low enough for you to hear.

eren weasels you two between sasha and mikasa, the ponytailed girl at your side. she pays no mind to your intrusion and instead offers a smile.

“listen, you delinquents,” eren interrupts them. “we are going to do a shot in honor of my pending status of captain.”

“you are so arrogant, jaeger,” a man scoffs.

across the counter, a messy dirty blonde mullet sits on top of a beautiful, angry face. his forearms rest on the granite as his body leans forward, eyes set directly on the man with his arm around your shoulder.

“oh, jean,” eren coos. “you can’t always get what you want.”

grabbing the malibu bottle by it’s neck, jean laughs. “you haven’t gotten anything yet,” his hazel flickers briefly to yours. “we won’t know until tomorrow.”

the way he talks makes a pit form in your stomach. you’re a smart girl, you know what they’re alluding to. it’s you.

“i guess you’re right. but i’m pretty much guaranteed to score,” eren tightens the bun on the back of his head.

“here,” jean slids you a shot glass. it reeks of coconut.

“you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” sasha says. “they’re a bunch of dorks.”

“no, it’s fine,” you shake your head as your fingers wrap around the clear glass. the liquid inside is taunting you.

“eren just wants to get you drunk,” jean says nonchalantly just as the cold glass touches your bottom lip.

“i know,” you respond.

it burns. coconut flavor isn’t strong enough to mask the burning left on your tongue. you can feel it light your esophagus on fire as it travels down, settling in the depths of your stomach.

“i’m going to kill you, kirstein.” eren’s voice raises a few notches as he drops his arms from your shoulder.

jean just laughs. he’s not laughing at eren though, he’s laughing at you.

“what’s so fucking funny?” eren hisses.

“she’s too smart for you,” jean shrugs his shoulders.

“are you too smart for me, (y/n)?” eren asks teasingly, looking down at you.

“i just think that you can’t always get what you want.” you blink your eyes lashes at him a few times before grabbing your bottle out of his hands. he looks dumbfounded as you head towards the living room, leaving him with the sounds of sasha and jean laughing at him.

your feelings are hurt, there’s no denying that. you had felt special and now you know you were just going to be a notch on his belt.

after a few drinks, you find yourself back in the kitchen. this time, there’s no crowd of people in here. just half-filled cups and bottles. faint sounds of terrible karaoke are heard.

you’re standing in front of the faucet, staring out the window, watching people do keg stands. eren’s out there egging them on.

“don’t make me take back what i said.”

“about eren?” you ask, turning around to see jean. he’s drunker, too.

he walks around the island, eventually leaning his back against it as he positions himself in front of you.

“about being too smart. you’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?”

“no,” you sigh. “how did you know he just wanted to fuck me?”

“because that selfish prick can’t let me have anything for myself,” he growls. his grip on his cup tightens. it slightly indents under his pressure. “he just wanted to piss me off. i should fucking kill him.”

“what are you talking about?”

“c’mon,” he sets his cup down. jean pushes himself off the counter and leaves mere inches between the two of you. his forehead is hovering above yours. the warmth of his breath makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

“jean,” you whisper. you’ve never been so still in your life. afraid whatever this is might die, you hold your breath.

“you’re smart, (y/n), too damn smart,” he purrs. “use that brain of yours.”

the vibration in his dialect makes your heart race.

“i don’t understand why you keep calling me that,” your lips part.

jean’s fingers find yours. his brush gently along them, leaving a wake of goosebumps. “you knew what eren wanted but you still chose to get drunk. you got drunk and didn’t sleep with him, just to piss him off. i’m starting to think i might be a part of that plan. you want to make him jealous?”

you swallow the lump in your throat. chest heaving with butterflies, you nod.

“good,” jean replies. the space between your foreheads close. his skin is burning hot, warming your entire body. “because he was making me so fucking jealous,” he draws a finger along your jaw and stops at your chin, “dirty fucker had his hands on you.”

“jean,” it’s the only word you can speak. everything else is forgotten.

“i’ve wanted you for so long. do you know what that’s like?” he waits for you to shake your head before he continues, “maddening. and eren knew all about it.”

“why didn’t you say anything?”

“just wanted it to be perfect,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “and now it is, hmm? i get to piss him off by doing this.”

jean’s thumb and pointer finger center your chin as he draws in closer to you. without hesitation, your lips open slightly as his meet yours. they’re softer than you expected. it’s electric. warm hands snake around your waist, pulling you away from the counter. your brain is scrambled, all parts of you lost in jean.

he pulls back for a second, rubbing a thumb along your side. “can’t believe i let jaeger work me up this much,” he kisses your right cheek. “never been this fuckin’ jealous,” he kisses your left cheek.

“i can’t believe you’re jealous…because of me.”

“especially because of you.”

read my jean fic here

[da-rulah]

"oh, and my love, did i mistake you as a sign from god?" from sleep token's the summoning >:33 could i rq cardinal copia?? sfw / nsfw idm just wherever your creativity takes u!! <33

This song gives me all the vibes. And for Cardinal Copia, this is what I got out of it. I'm sorry if it's not your thing but I couldn't think of anything else that fit this lyric better... This got a little kinky😈

NSFW 18+, MDNI! Cardinal Copia x f!reader

TW: dom/sub dynamic (f dom), dominatrix, control, power play, ropes/bondage, cum play, emotions and soft domination.

Copia's neck was starting to hurt, his head bowed down and staring at the stone floors of the chapel beneath his knees. His hands remained behind his back, arms tied from his elbows to his wrists in red shibari ropes.

But he knew he wasn't allowed to look up. Not yet.

He heard your heels on the stone, and naturally his body tensed in welcome anticipation. He'd waited patiently for you to come back to the chapel after stripping him down, tying his arms and instructing him to stay put while you'd gone to slip into something more comfortable. Of course, making him wait was all part of it; to make him uncomfortable, antsy, nervous.

You came to stand in front of him, stepping between his spread knees to make sure he could see the heels you'd put on. He'd be getting more acquainted with them soon...

He was already painfully hard, his mind racing as fast as his heart thinking of all the things you might do to him, that you'd done to him in the past. He could never get enough of you, like a drug he was terminally addicted to. You would be the death of him...

But this was his release. His job was so demanding, so stressful and he had to be the authoritarian he was crafted into as a Cardinal. All of that went out the window during playtime with you... He could let go, let someone else take charge for him and literally beat the tension out of him if that's what he needed. But there was a complication...

He was becoming too obsessed with you. You were the most beautiful woman in the world to him, the perfect mix of cruel dominatrix and soft lover. He kept finding excuses to be around you day to day, just to catch glimpses of you if that was all he could get. Other times, he'd specifically call for your assistance on a task, just to spend time with you. He knew this was purely transactional on both sides and yet, he was falling into a trap...

"You haven't moved, have you?" your voice sounded so assertive, particularly in the stone setting of the chapel - which you'd locked up for tonight so as not to be interrupted. This was a fantasy of his, to be overruled in the one place he was supposed to have the most command. Lucifer would certainly approve.

"No, ma'am," he confirmed, his voice quaking a little.

"Good." You lifted one of your feet, placing it flat onto his thigh and gently applying pressure with your stiletto hell. Copia winced, but his cock twitched between his legs, precum dripping to the stone floor.

And of course, you noticed.

"You're making a mess, Cardinal. Maybe you should clean that up, hm?" It was a rhetorical question, more of an order than a suggestion. And he knew how you worked by now. You stepped backwards and watched with a smirk as he shuffled backwards, dipping his body down without the use of his hands to keep him steady. His face hovered above the stone floor, his tongue darting out to lick at the mess like a cat lapping at a saucer full of milk.

You were very pleased with the Cardinal's progress from your first session together. He'd never been outright defiant, more like inexperienced. Not at sex - far from it - but at letting go, and understanding what you were asking of him without being direct. He'd come leaps and bounds since then.

"Such a good boy," you praised as he finished, still never looking up at you. You hadn't given him permission yet...

You stepped back a few paces, up the first step in front of the pulpit. "Come here."

He walked on his knees towards you, wincing at the pain and stopping short of the step, too awkward to lift his knees but he had a feeling you wanted him beneath you.

Slowly, you raised your heel again, this time lifting his chin with the toe and allowing him to look up at you. His eyes travelled the length of your leg, dreamily observing the stockings you wore for him, held up by suspenders that sat over a stunning black lace bodysuit. He took in every curve, slowly marvelling as saliva pooled in his mouth until finally, he looked up to see your stunning face, beautifully lit in the candlelight and framed by the incredibly intricate stained glass windows behind you.

You were like an oil painting, more beautiful than if Michelangelo himself had painted you. And with the backdrop behind you illustrating his fantasy playing out, it was sending him spiralling.

To him, you were a damn succubus... A demon sent for him and him alone to tempt and defile. He'd allow you anything you wanted from him, follow any command.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn..." You straightened up at the sound of his voice, glaring down at him. You hadn't given him permission to speak, nor asked him a question that warranted an answer. But you were intrigued...

He'd never spoke out of turn before and frankly, you were curious to see what was so important that he must tell you and suffer the consequences of disobedience.

"You have never look so bewitching... I-I'm all yours, body and soul."

Your eyes widened, taken aback completely. Of all the things you expected, that absolutely was not one of them. You had no smart retort, nothing to say in response at all. Instead, you did something you had never done before, crossing a boundary you set when terms were agreed upon on day one.

You crouched in front of him, meeting his eyes. You could see the fear in them, almost regret as he swallowed his fear and readied himself for the inevitable punishment for speaking without permission. But instead, you moved some of his hair away from his face with gentle touches, then tilted his chin up a little to make it easier to plant your lips to his.

Kissing was a big no-no. You shouldn't have done it, but you felt so drawn to him, compelled to give him a part of you like he just had.

He didn't hesitate to kiss you back, quickly overcoming his shock in favour of savouring something he was sure you would probably never do again. It ignited something within you, a fire raging in your body. You couldn't help escalating it, your kisses turning desperate. Copia wanted nothing more than to hold you close to him, to pull you into him and take you on the chapel floor with an equal balance of power; even if it were just for one night...

But his hands were still tied, and you had a scene to play out. He was sure you'd snap out of it soon and punish him harder than you ever had. Perhaps you'd call this whole thing off, and he'd never get to be with you again. The thought terrified him.

You pulled back from the kiss, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck and forehead pressed to his. You sighed, twirling your fingertips in the locks of hair at the nape of his neck. It was growing out - you liked that.

"Copia..." you breathed, chuckling softly at the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in. Feelings were never supposed to factor into this, but you'd be lying if you tried to tell yourself there wasn't something there. "We should talk," you whispered, finally meeting his eyes.

"Maybe another time, when I'm not kneeling at your feet with my arms tied behind me?" he laughed quietly, shy and unsure of himself.

"Oh, of course..." you moved to untie the ropes behind him, but eh stopped you. "N-no... Please," he begged, "I need this. I-I... don't want you to stop."

You stopped fiddling with the knot, resting your palms on his shoulders and searching his face for any sign that he wasn't sure about this. But there was nothing but pleading; he still wanted this, and so did you. This was as much of a release for you as it was for him. There was plenty of time to talk later.

"Whatever you need," you curled your finger under his chin, lightly tilting it up as a gentle re-introduction into the scene. "Now... do not speak again until you are asked to. Understand?"

He nodded, knowing better than to verbally respond.

The scene in the Chapel continued, but neither of you could deny the little extra softness in your dominance that night. You were more careful with him, less brutal. Still lording over him as he wished, still assertive and clearly in power.

But your harsh persona had turned into something softer, slower in every move you made. Copia couldn't help but be even more in awe of you, watching you take control of him in such a delicate way that felt more fuelled by passion than anything you'd ever done together before.

He was more sure now than ever that you had been moulded in the image of the darkest, most beautiful goddess.

[evieelyzabethh]

hiii i was wondering if you could do platonic Mel x reader headcanons? (like theyre friends and reader is on the council???)

thank youu and have a lovely day💗

omggg thank you! i always worry that everyone skips the mel sections. there is not nearly enough love for her, and she is literally my fav character

Contrary to popular belief, Mel is not a cold person in the slightest. She is certainly a bit hesitant to affection and softness, but it isn't unwelcome. When she first arrived in Piltover, freshly cast out by her own mother for her aversion to violence, she is very off balance. You don't become the richest person in Piltover in such a short period of time by being friendly, wealth is won through strategic kindness and an ability to play the long game.

It would be hard to crack that exterior at first, partially because she expects that everyone else is playing the same game she is. She thinks that the friendship is less soft and more professionally symbiotic. You scratch her back, she scratches yours kinda thing. And it's no reflection of who she thinks you are, she's not even aiming to form any personal judgements or get to know you outside of work, but politics is a performance. How genuinely you play your role is of little importance to her, as long as it benefits you both.

This being said, you are far more tolerable than the rest of them. Besides actually being her age, she respects the approach you have, you are always forthright with your goals, even if the plans you have to achieve them are under the table. You're consistent and she appreciates this. Though she understands the charade of smiles and civility, she knows that most of these people don't care about much other than keeping things exactly the way they are.

Early on in her journey in Piltover she doesn't care much about the fate of the Zaunites, this isn't her home, and that instability is one she is largely ignorant to and doesn't believe it's her responsibility to fix. She does want change. Is this desire to make waves to prove a point to her mother overseas, initially yes, but the point still stands that she wants to do something. That may be what she likes about you most. Not only that you want change, but you want it for yourself. You are here to represent your family, but you are so much more than a name. She admires that you want a legacy of your own, that your morals are your own, that your goals work toward a vision that you dreamt.

While she has Elora to remind her of home, she has you to help build her future in Piltover and figure out what she actually wants. As she warms up to you, you have somewhat of a mentor/apprentice type relationship, though far less formal. Besides teaching her of the culture, what happens in the Undercity, and your personal thoughts and opinions on the cycles of violence, you learn about Noxus. You learn about all the places she'd want to take you to, the difference in politics, how much more aggressive it is.

Mel is someone who usually keeps a calm and cool exterior but being friends with you allows her to break it down. Especially after days where she begins to wonder what she's even doing here, days where she just feels like a pawn still being moved around the board by her mother. She's good at the politics, but it's tiresome, still having to constantly play by someone else's rules. It dawns on her when you are the only person she can think of while sobbing alone in her all to big room that maybe you aren't just some work acquaintance.

Now that the very long introduction is out of the way, Mel is such a hugger. She is very physically affectionate; it's her way of catching up on all she missed out with her mom. She's the type to cradle your head in her hands and rub your back

She is also the 'break up with your boyfriend' friend. If your partner is not giving you what you deserve, she really doesn't see the point in continuing the relationship. She is truly baffled by the excuse 'but we've been together for x years, I can't leave them'. YES YOU CAN! AND YOU SHOULD! People are replaceable, she does not believe in remaining in the company of those you don't like, especially if it doesn't benefit you.

She was also robbed of a traditional sort of girlhood, so she adores those kinds of hangouts. So many sleepovers, except instead of junk food and soda, its wine and fancy charcuterie boards. Self-care nights involve super expensive skincare and a terrible movie playing. If you two get drunk enough, you may even get into a pillow fight and leave the room covered in down feathers and empty satin pillow covers.

Assuming she's still dating Jayce, you definitely know a bit too much about him. It's very hard looking him in the eye after being told about the time she caught him shirtless in a stupid pair of heart covered boxers.

She gifted you one of her paintings for your birthday one year and almost cried when you started crying. Her art was always more of a hobby to air out her big emotions and her heart practically bursts with happiness every time you enter a room. You hang it right over your bed for protection in your dreams and it makes her beam with pride that you love it so much.

She is also such a good gift giver in general. I think she'd be super into journaling and would have like a million of those things, one of them dedicated to her friends and their interests.

Speaking of her journals, I think she'd have one for different goals. For example, one for all the books she wants to read for the year and dedicated pages to rank them and give her opinions. Maybe one for all the places she wants to visit one day. You two would totally swap books and have a friendly competition with your reading goals

[mire1li]

Chapter I: Recommence thine Journey

The clock struck midnight once more. You stood there in front of everyone at the ball where your fiancé had abandoned you for another woman. Having to relive such a thing 7 times beforehand though, you'd had enough.

"Alright, alright, I get it, keep him, I don't care" You interrupted Her monologue about why he'd chosen her over you. She watched, stunned in silence as you suddenly ran off in the direction of the exit.

Throughout your past 7 lives, you'd chosen a multitude of different paths for yourself, once even becoming a doctor, taught by the best of the best. Though, those stories could be saved for another time. You exited the castle and ran off into a direction you knew quite well. Your home. You'd noticed that each different direction led you to a completely different 'ending'. Though some of your lives were… cut short due to unfortunate circumstances.

Once you got far enough from the castle, you stopped running and instead walked carefully to avoid tripping. One wrong step and you'd most likely trip over a rock due to the rocky terrain. Even if you held up your dress and watched where you went, it was still a dangerous journey. You almost wished you'd taken a different route to get there.

All was well, however, once you finally arrived. Entering your home, you could tell the atmosphere was… different. Less welcoming. The maids and butlers looked at you with different expressions, some of disgust, others of hate. One thing you couldn't miss was the talking amongst everyone. Certainly because of the trouble stirred up by your ex-fiancés mistress. Even if the country was large, word spread easily so it was no wonder everyone had already found out.

You returned to your room, before which stood your parents, clearly disappointed.

"Mother, Father." You spoke up, greeting your parents politely, bowing before them.

"Ah, [Name]. You're here…" Your father replied, his eyes narrowing in your direction. Your parents turned to face you, your mother watching him with a disappointed look.

"Indeed, I am. Father, if I may-"

"That's enough now, dear. Listen to what we have to say." Your mother chimed in, cutting you off from speaking further. You sighed, glaring down at the ground. You never did like when they did this. At least it wasn't your fault they're this way this time.

"You're no longer engaged." He began, crossing his arms. "Quite disappointing… this will undoubtedly tarnish the family name. To make up for this… mishap… you will attend the masquerade next week, hosted by Prince Sunday."

It was him yet again. A name far too familiar to you.

——————

"Ah, you must be our new tailor! I humbly welcome you."

You were stood before him, happier than ever to have been hired by his family. It was quite the achievement for you, considering you were still fairly new to the profession.

"Please do follow me this way, towards your new workspace." He spoke, beckoning you to follow him further. He seemed harmless really, you didn't feel unease around him. He made you feel… comfortable. So, you followed him towards the location.

It was far larger than you anticipated, though that was to be expected of a royal families' budget for their workers. They wanted to ensure you could provide them with the highest quality clothes, of course.

The two of you spoke for some time before he left you alone to get acquainted with the new space.

——————

It was certainly a… time to remember. You sighed, shaking your head slightly.

"Very well then… I will attend the masquerade." You knew your parents were sending you there to have you find another suitable candidate for marriage. Truth be told, you'd already found plenty, however, they wouldn't know you just yet.

"Very good." Your father replied, somewhat monotonously.

"We must be off now, there's a meeting we must attend in the morning to sort out… the issue." You watched as your parents left, muttering things to each other, and though you couldn't quite hear anything, you simply assumed it was about the broken off engagement.

Soon enough, you finally retired to your room for the night and changed into your sleepwear. All those memories lingered in the back of your mind as you prepared yourself for sleep. It's not like most were bad, of course not. All apart from a few moments, everything was fine, really. Perhaps a bit sombre though.

You shook your head and sighed, though not feeling too tired yet, you made your way to your balcony and stepped outside. It overlooked a part of the city, allowing you to see people who remained awake at this hour, however little that was. Off to your right was the mansion you'd run off from.

You didn't really think about it anymore, it wasn't such a big deal. You turned your head to look in front of you, where in the distance stood Sunday's castle.

——————

"Your Highness, I'd appreciate if you would stop moving-" You spoke to him, attempting to get his measurements as he'd ordered a suit for an upcoming special occasion. However, he wasn't making your first official job for him easy.

"Please, no need for formalities. Just 'Sunday' will suffice." He cut you off, completely ignoring your request and instead moving yet again.

"Alright then… Sunday-"

"Ah! But the measuring tape is so cold!" He exclaimed, however, you knew better. The tape couldn't have possibly been cold considering you'd already finished measuring most of him, now attempting to get his waist measurement.

You weren't quite sure why he was suddenly acting childish, you simply chalked it up to his somewhat dramatic personality at times. Though, in truth, he wanted to prolong the procedure, enjoying all the attention you were giving him, even if it was only because you had to. He didn't mind.

——————

You hummed in thought, stepping away from the balcony and returned to your room. It wasn't particularly cold outside with the night air gradually growing warmer as the colder spring season faded into summer.

Finally, after a tiring day, you returned back inside and got in bed, soon after succumbing to slumber.

The next morning as you were happily preparing for an uneventful day, however, your mother had entered your room and quickly your plans to sit at home were discarded.

"[User], you'll be going to the town centre with one of our staff. She needs to buy a couple things for the chefs and I'm sure she'd appreciate some help." She stated, not giving you a choice this time. You assumed she still wasn't too happy about last nights' events.

"I understand." You replied to her demand, knowing there wouldn't be a way for you to change her mind once it was set. You watched as she smiled at you and left the room, leaving you to finish getting ready.

"Well… At least I won't be bored…" You muttered to yourself, not entirely displeased by the circumstances.

And so, there you were, wandering behind the employee at a leisurely pace and simply looking around the town. It hadn't really changed much since the last time you were there but at least you were having fun. You and the maid you were with arrived to a vegetable stall where she gave you a list of items to buy whilst she scavenged for the remainder of the ingredients.

She walked off, leaving you with an amount of money that she deemed enough to be able to purchase everything you needed to.

You grabbed the carrots, cabbage, cucumbers and other things listed on the piece of paper. Finally, you only had one more thing to buy: onions. You searched the entire stall, though you weren't able to find any so you asked the vendor, who redirected your gaze to the correct location.

You felt relieved to have finally found it, let alone when you discovered it was the last one for sale! Although it was unfortunate there weren't multiple, you were sure just one would be enough. For the time being. Just as you reached for it, your hand brushed against another persons'. You slightly jumped back, startled by the sudden encounter, though once you saw just who the person was, you paused.

You could feel your face heating up just a bit and your heart beating just a bit faster than usual.

——————

"Oh! Hello, I hear you recently got hired by the Royal Family to make clothes for them, is that right?" Jiaoqiu asked you curiously. You two didn't typically see each other considering you both worked in different parts of Sunday's castle, however, your inevitable meeting had certainly changed everything.

"Yes, that's right! You wouldn't happen to be one of the chefs, would you?" You asked jokingly, looking up at the chefs hat resting atop his head.

"I might be." He looked off to the side, almost attempting to look innocent. You couldn't deny, he had some kind of charm to him that made you want to spend more time with him. So you did.

After that meeting, most of your free time was spent in the kitchen with him or somewhere off to the side whenever both of you had some time off.

——————

"Oh! Uh… Hello…" You stammered, instinctually handing over the onion.

"Hello." He replied to your own greeting, watching you curiously before taking it, albeit hesitantly, before handing it right back.

"It's quite alright, you can have the onion." He seemed insistent, however, so were you. Nothing better than two stubborn people, after all!

You still remembered this side of him. Even if it's technically been 6 lifetimes, to you, it only felt like a day had passed… Which might not be entirely wrong as you still weren't sure just how this 'cycle' worked. All you knew is that you simply couldn't die as you'd be brought back to the moment you lost your fiancé. Perhaps the next death would be the end. You had no clue, which is why you decided you want this life to remain calm, without any unexpected adventures like before.

"No need, I can come back tomorrow." You rejected his offer, however, he certainly hadn't given up and instead placed the onion in your hand. You flushed at the sudden contact, watching as he happily walked away, picking out whatever else he needed from the stall before moving on.

After you'd nearly lost him in the crowd, you snapped out of your thoughts and paid for the onion before running over to him. Standing in front of him now, he looked at you somewhat surprised, clearly not expecting you to be this adamant about such a petty thing.

You held your hand out, offering him the onion yet again.

"Please, you can have it. I'm sure there's plenty in the kitchen at my house!" You put the onion in his basket. It certainly seemed rather ridiculous to fight over something as miniscule as this, although, it was incredibly reminiscent of old times. You knew he most likely wouldn't remember you or the past, but… you definitely hoped. You had hope he at least had the same feelings as you, as unlikely as that may be, especially due to how long it's been.

He took the onion out of his basket again and chuckled.

"But I insist!" He once again placed it in your hands, right as the maid you were with returned, having finally found you after you'd wandered off.

"Ah, there you are! I've been searching! You really shouldn't run off like that." She sighed, coming to stand next to you.

"Have you found everything? We really must get going now." The maid continued, finally glancing over at who you were speaking with. She simply nodded, not paying him much mind.

Glancing at your basket of vegetables, she seemed mostly satisfied, excluding the singular onion in your hands.

"I apologise for interrupting, however, I must be going now." Jiaoqiu spoke up, bowing slightly before he continued on his venture, you watching him go.

"Come now, let's go. I believe we have everything, yes?"

"Ah… yes, I believe so… I did do my best to get everything, at least. There was only one onion though." You hesitantly looked back at the maid, not particularly wanting to look away from Jiaoqiu.

"I see… that's rather unfortunate, but I suppose there's naught we can do." She hummed in thought before taking the vegetables from you.

"I'll merely return early tomorrow morn' to buy more." She began walking back towards your home, assuming you'd follow, which you did.

The walk back was peaceful. The two of you made small conversation, however, the maid didn't seem too keen on interacting, which you supposed didn't bother you much. You looked around the forest, enjoying the nature surrounding you, just as you had in each of your past lives.

Eventually, however, she notices you falling behind and urged you to walk faster.

"Come now, I'm sure your parents are expecting you back soon."

"That's alright… you can go on ahead and… if they ask, just tell them I'll be back soon." You told her, slowing your pace further and instead, you decided to saunter off the path and into the nearby forest. You glanced back and saw her nodding at you.

You looked around, wanting to kill some time. After a while of walking around, you picked a few flowers you found scattered around the ground, they looked to be in good condition, perhaps they'd survive until you got home sometime later. Though, it was highly improbable… you'd simply have to see how they do later on.

During your venture, you stuck to the path in the forest, following it quite far in. This wasn't anything unusual for you though, you remembered passing through here a few times before in your life. Before the whole 'loop' you've been going through… recently? Technically, it had been multiple years.

You sighed at the thought, looking down at the bouquet of flowers in your hands. Abruptly, you noticed movement in the corner of your eye. It looked to be white… hair? You paused, surveying the direction you saw it in, though couldn't see anything akin to it.

It was odd, you thought, but it was a public forest, so it made sense for there to be people. Although… there was just something so familiar about that white hair. Not many people had such a hair colour, after all. It reminded you of someone else you deeply cherish.

You remembered him well, even if it had been such a long time. You shook the thoughts away, deciding to finally begin the trek home as the sun had begun setting on the horizon.

Really, not much had happened on the way back, apart from a couple of rustling noises coming from bushes and trees surrounding you created by the wind or animals.

Finally, you saw your home in the distance. You'd noticed the atmosphere was growing surprisingly colder with the setting sun, so you sped up your walking pace, soon enough arriving inside and returning to your room.

You had hope tomorrow would be uneventful, though your sudden reunion with Jiaoqiu certainly had you thinking about venturing out again, albeit alone this time. It was strange to you. You thought you'd put those past lives behind you after so long and so many newer memories and yet, they remain fresh in your mind, especially after seeing Jiaoqiu earlier.

You wondered what your parents would demand you wear to the masquerade. Certainly something extravagant, to make you stand out as much as possible. You stayed up a while longer, reminiscing, thinking about the ball too, before deciding it was late enough to head to sleep. Although, you didn't feel particularly tired yet, so you merely laid in bed for perhaps an hour or two. You weren't too sure, but you did sleep eventually. <- Index next ->

[oleanderscorner]

Fallen Sapphire Tears (Yandere!Sunday x Reader x Yandere!Aventurine)

My last little post got me thinking…who else would share?

Then I decided I can force people to share for the fun of it! I figured it’d be interesting to see the striking balance between Sunday and Aventurine—both so vastly different characters, and figured out they’d fit one soul quite nicely—so, enjoy!

Spoilers for the new 2.2 quest up ahead and general yandere content trigger warnings! Oh and pregnancy allusions.

Aventurine and Sunday would both enjoy a justice-oriented darling—not just any justice either, but lawful and distinct justice, the kind casts away nuance in favor of the black and white stance and hope.

Aventurine obviously notices you first in this sweet dream and wishes to indulge you in a wager—it only gets him more antsy when you decline on principle, a wager so large means either he’s an addict, or can surely win, right? So what point would there be in playing…

He stands still in that answer—certainly not the first time he’s heard a no or been called an addict but it’s the first he’s been called an addict while saying no. In your eyes, too, it seems like you vaguely care about the former. He laughs it off then.

But continues to think heavily.

When you come back—it only intrigues him more.

Too bad he has to take a quick curtain call.

Sunday met you after, much later once you and Aventurine become close acquaintances almost friends. He notices your looks first—beauty to him, not in how orderly you look per se but…in how your clothes all fit a distinct role and place, how the style of your hair even if not particularly styled balances out this order of roles. Even disheveled homeless men have a certain look to them determined by the roles of their clothes—and you encompass that to him.

It kept his eye on you enough so that when you chose your answers…when you spoke of justice behind your choice in every section. To save a bird is just, to let the law catch a man willing to send his own children whom we don’t even know exist, and to support his dear sister despite him not..it all was quite eye opening to him on the justice his order needed.

He wouldn’t kidnap you immediately only because he would take great care in making your cage—only to then find Aventurine having found you and offering you to leave this place.

They should have killed eachother right then and there—but somehow, a word became a conversation and they came to an agreement.

Of course, they would keep you in the cage together—Aventurine could find and exploit every weakness in the cage crafted to before you had the chance to, and hide information about you from anyone else who would ask. Sunday keeps the cage crafted and gives instruction as needed. Even if it means a bitter false defeat to keep a hidden you.

Aventurine spends most days with you—when he isn’t working you two play games, even if you don’t want to he still tries to play with you, and he often orders take out—can even do a little cooking if you ask. He’s almost moldable—doing as you ask as long as it isn’t escaping related or not keeping an eye on you.

Sunday spends nights with you—sometimes there’s idle chatter with a dinner or late night snack and conversation of the world—but oftentimes it’s silent cuddling as he holds you. Perhaps even Aventurine too if that’s what it took to hold you.

Everything quickly becomes boring and mundane with them—and they know how to keep it that way.

You have a list of small chores while housekeeping does the rest, which is a light dust in some areas and tidying up basic things. It’s so domestic that it almost feels like you’re a rich housewife without a care to actually clean…

Funnily enough, being the last of a kind is gettting to Aventurine and of course Sunday is rather…family-oriented.

Perhaps it is time for another discussion.

AN: Ik it’s short and scattered but I’m thinking of writing like an actual fic for this one so it’s going to stay like this for now.