#or he might write a song about your murder soon

[ringosmistress]

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning, obsessive!Coriolanus, manipulation, murder, unplanned pregnancy

You’re by yourself in the house you share with your little sister Maude Ivory and your cousins whenever a loud series of knocks sounded on it. Oh god, you hope it wasn't Billy Taupe coming around to torment (woo) Lucy Gray again.

Hell, he moved out of the Covey house and into the Mayor’s house to live with Mayfair as soon as Lucy Gray was shoved onto that train’s cattle car headed to the Capitol to be tribute in the Hunger Games. Just because she won; came back in one piece, doesn't mean that he has the right to come around. Begging her to take him back, even though he has no intentions on leaving Mayfair.

Why would he? He's got it made by shacking up with the Mayor's daughter. Hell, being with Mayfair means he never has to work again.

Sighing, you placed your composition book down on the sofa and went over to the door. When you pulled it open, you were shocked that it wasn't Billy Taupe at the threshold, but a peacekeeper.

A very handsome peacekeeper, might you add.

You had to crane your neck up slightly to look him in the eyes. Eyes that were icy blue, like a frozen over lake. You noticed that his buzz cut was platinum blonde, a blonde so light that only the gods of ancient myths could have such fair hair. Your eyes didn't miss his prominent nose or his broad shoulders and tapered waist either.

But it was his smile that had you dazzled. A smile that was bright, splitting his face in half with perfect pearly whites.

“Hello. I'm Private Coriolanus Snow; I was Lucy Gray’s mentor during the games and since I'm serving here in 12 I just wanted to check up on her. Make sure that she’s alright.”

“Yea, she mentioned you.” You nodded, feeling your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. Of course, your cousin's mentor looked like a Greek god. No wonder Lucy Gray seems to have a little crush on him. No way would he ever talk to you again once he got to see her.

Nobody ever talked to you again after spending time with Lucy Gray. Hell, her voice made the mockingjays stop and listen to her sing. Her beauty was exotic; she was a beautiful mystery that every man wanted to solve.

“I’m Y/N Scarlett.” You introduced yourself, only to tell the peacekeeper, “She's deep in the meadow that's some yards behind the house. She's working on a song, but I'm sure she won't mind if you interrupt her.”

“She never mentioned you.” Coriolanus said, moreso to himself then to you, his eyes raking over your body.

“Why would she? She was in the Capitol for the Hunger Games, not an afternoon tea party.” You sarcastically scoffed. Unknown to you, Lucy Gray did talk about the Covey, including your little sister, just not you. “Well, since I told you where to find my cousin, you better be on your way.” You said, politely dismissing him so that the blonde could go woo your cousin; you could also finish writing your thoughts down in your composition book.

“Is she doing alright?” Private Snow asked instead of saying goodbye.

‘She seems fine to me. Went right back to singing and charming the stage.” You wanted to add living off of her charms too, but you didn't think that'd go over too well with the buzzcut blonde grunt.

“That's good, I'm glad singing while covered in a bunch of lethal rainbow snakes didn't stop her from singing.”

“Lucy Gray stop singing because of the snakes? Are you kidding me? That girl loves snakes, is always playing with the slithering demons.”

“You don't like snakes, I take it.”

“You ever get snakebite because your loving cousin played a practical joke on you by hiding a harmless garter snake in your shawl that was nestled on the grass?”

“Uh, no, can't say that I have.”

“Yea, well, I have and it's not fun. So, no, I don't like snakes.” You dryly told the blonde peacekeeper.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Coriolanus asked with a charming smile painted on his face.

One of your brows rose up. “To the meadow to see Lucy Gray?”

No, Coriolanus wanted to take you on a walk.

By yourself.

There was something about you that he was instantly attracted to. As soon as he laid eyes on you, all thoughts on your cousin left his mind.

It's was like ‘Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray who?’ in his brain. She didn't matter to him anymore, but suddenly you did.

You seemed so beautiful to him. Like a fine piece of spun glass that holiday ornaments are crafted from.

Coriolanus couldn't explain it, but he has the primal urge to claim you. To protect you; make you his. All because of the sweet look in your doe eyes whenever you answered the door for him.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head. “I want to take you for a walk, spend some time with you before I have to head back to base.”

He wanted to spend time with you? Oh boy, now that's unexpected.

All you could do was smile and squeak out, “Okay.”

And that's how you became Private Snow's girl, much to Lucy Gray's dismay.

You've been seeing Coriolanus for a few weeks now. Every weekend he seems to get weekend passes from his commander; uses them to stay with you at the Covey house. The Covey takes to him pretty well, especially when he brings over something from the Mellark bakery with every visit. He also brings over large bags of ice too, which is a godsend considering your family doesn't have an icebox.

Lucy Gray looks at him with sorrow and pain in her big, brown eyes. It's evident that she's disappointed that Coryo (what he's told you to call him) picked you over her. See, nobody ever picks you over her.

Well, not until Coryo that is.

But he's not like the other district boys because he's not district. He's a Capitol boy. And you know what they say…

You can take the boy out of the Capitol, but you can't take the Capitol out of the boy.

Today's a sweltering hot summer's day so you, Coryo, his friend Sejanus, and the Covey are at the lake: swimming.

You and your platinum blonde peacekeeper are the last to enter the water. Everyone else is already in the water as you two stand by the dock, stripping out of your clothes. Despite having seen Coriolanus naked a few times already, seeing him pull off his shirt makes you swoon.

You can't help it. He's just so handsome. Too pretty to be real.

Goddamn, those broad shoulders, toned arms, toned chest, and tapered waist of his gets you every time.

And yes, when the Covey's asleep he sneaks into your bed; fucks you senseless. The two of you think that Lucy Gray doesn't know, but she does. Her room and yours share a wall, she has ears and can hear the noises you and Coriolanus don't even try to quiet down.

Lucy Gray's disappointed in how reckless you're acting with Coriolanus. The last thing the Covey needs is for you to fall pregnant. Your family can barely stay afloat as it is.

But, on the other hand, your cousin can't help, but to see how happy you and her former mentor look, laughing and giggling as he chases you down the dock, causing you to jump into the water with him cannonballing in right after you.

The loud sounds of laughs, squeals, and overall cheerfulness mixed with water splashing loudly fills the air. Everyone's having fun.

But despite that, Coryo seems a bit melancholy. So much so that he swims a few yards away from the group, just to have a moment to himself. You have no idea what's going on in that head of his, but you don't want him to feel alone. As if he can't lean on you.

So, you swim over to him; climb up his back like a sloth and wrap your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder, causing him to grab your hand and lift it up to his lips; pressing a kiss against your knuckles.

The boys, Sejanus included, are cleaning the fish that they caught while your little sister's digging up swamp potatoes (Katniss as Lucy Gray calls it) and giving it to Lucy Gray, only for your cousin to remind Maude Ivory that the plant’s roots ain't ready yet. Barb Azure was with Lucy Gray, just talking.

And you're off to the side, laying on a blanket with Coryo. Your head’s in his lap as he lazily runs his long fingers thru your hair. Looking out at the view of the crystal blue lake and the trees surrounding it, Coryo told you, “It's beautiful out here.” Flashing you a smile, he added in, “Thank you for sharing this with me. You sharing your special spots with me means a lot, little dove.”

“No need to thank me, Coryo. I enjoy spending time with you; bringing you along on Covey excursions just happens to be a part of that.” You replied with a genuine smile.

“You know, there's so much I’d like to show you in the Capitol.”

“Lucy Gray says that the Capitol's a horrible place.”

“Don't listen to her, Y/N. She never told me about you, but she talked an awful lot about your little sister and the rest of the Covey.”

“She talked about them, but not me?” You asked, feeling sudden heartbreak and betrayal from your cousin.

Coriolanus’ heart hurts for you. He can't imagine how it'd feel to be so easily dismissed by his cousin, Tigris, who practically raised him. Just seeing your face so fallen and grief stricken at the revelation that Lucy Gray talked about all of her cousins, except for you, made him want to protect you from her.

Yes!

Coryo wants to protect you from your own cousin.

But not just her. No, he wants to protect you from everything that might cause you harm. And the only way to do that is bringing you back to the Capitol with him.

“Do you like it here, in District 12?” He wondered. He personally hates it; secretly wants you to hate it too.

“No.” You shook your head. “It's miserable in 12.”

“It's not miserable in the Capitol. The Capitol had rules, law and order, food, and warm beds.” Coryo recited, as if reading an ad from a vacation brochure. “I hope that when I go back one day that you'll come with me.” He confessed, looking down at you with a hopeful smile.

“I dunno if I could leave the Covey. They're my family, Coryo.” You honestly answered, feeling a sense of dread at the idea of leaving your family behind for another life. A life thousands and thousands of miles away from them.

“But you could leave me, your man?” Coryo asked incredulously, his jaw ticking.

“Coryo-” You tried to reason, only for him to cut you off with a blunt honest retort of, “You're going to have to choose one day, little dove. I just hope you pick me.”

Silence fell over the two of you as he twisted his torso, reaching into his bag beside him to get something. You didn't pay it any mind, figuring he was getting a snack or something that he packed. But, when you noticed a balled up piece of orange material in his hand as he straightened his back to resume his previous position of sitting, you couldn't help but wonder what the material was.

It wouldn't take you long to find out.

Handing you over the orange ball of fine spin silk, he softly told you, “It belonged to my mother.”

“Oh, Coryo…” Your hands gently clutched the token to your heart. You knew that it must've meant a lot to him; that you must mean a lot to him too in order to receive such a gift. “Thank you, I'll take good care of it.” You studied the orange gift, concluding that it's a scarf. “I promise.” You smiled, looking between him and the scarf. Taking his hand in yours, you sighed, “I only wish that I had something meaningful to give you back.”

“I don't need anything, but your love, darling.” Coryo assured you before bending down, cupping your cheek with his large hand, and capturing your lips in a soft, but hungry kiss.

The following week, you began getting sick in the early mornings. Sometimes, you'd get sick due to a strong smell too. You even seemed more fatigued, sometimes even feeling a bit flushed and dizzy. And your boobs were tender. You knew what the symptoms mean and it terrifies you.

It terrifies you because you and Coryo never talked about the possibility of children. Would he even want a baby? He's a peacekeeper, is he even allowed to claim a baby with a Covey girl? Would the baby be a bastard? Would he-

“Hey, little dove, what's wrong?” Coryo asked, walking up your front porch with a bag of ice over his shoulder and a paper bag labeled Mellark Bakery in hand.

“We need to talk, Coriolanus.” You sighed, picking at your nails.

You're afraid that after you tell him your discovery that he'll leave and never come back.

Coryo's brow furrowed with worry. You haven't called him Coriolanus since the day you first met him. Something's wrong.

Setting the bags he was carrying down, he went over to your side. He pulled you up from your seat on an old wooden rocker, only to sit down and pull you onto his lap. Lightly threading his fingers into your hair, he asked, “What's wrong, little dove?”

“I'm pregnant, Coryo.” You nervously revealed, dropping your head in shame.

“Yea?” Coryo asked, gently tipping your chin up; making you look into his icy eyes. Icy blue eyes that are filled with only joy and pride. “We’re having a baby?”

“Yea.” You confirm.

“I promise, I'll take care of both of you.” Your peacekeeper vowed, protectively placing one of his large hands over your stomach. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft, chaste kiss. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours and asked, “Does the Covey know?”

“No. I wanted to wait to tell them.”

“Why? Are you afraid of what they'll say?” Coryo asked, genuine concern flooding his baby blues.

“I doubt they'll be happy about another mouth to feed.” You sighed. You could already hear your family's fake congratulations in your head. You know full well that they'll be disappointed about this. It's just not the ideal timing.

Coryo tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Don't worry, little dove. We'll figure it out.” Your boyfriend assured you with a thin smile.

Coryo didn't want you performing with the Covey anymore. He claimed that the stress of it would be bad for the baby. So, you obliged him and made a lame excuse about a headache in order to be a spectator in the crowd.

You're sitting at a table against the wall with Sejanus and Coryo. The boys are drinking jars of shine while you're stuck drinking nothing- since shine's bad for pregnancy and the Hobb doesn't have anything else for drinking. Lucy Gray had just started singing her debut of a new song whenever Sejanus excused himself and took off to the bar, where Billy Taupe was. It looked like he was waiting for him too.

“You might want to keep an eye on that. Billy's bad news, Coryo.” You told your boyfriend, subtly gesturing to where Sejanus and Billy Taupe were.

Unknown to you, Coryo's been keeping an eye on it. That he even sent a jabberjay to the Capitol with Sejanus' dumb rebel plans on it so that Strabo Plinth could be made aware of the bullshit his son's up to; buy him a discharge and a one-way ticket back to the Capitol.

“I'll follow him; check it out.” Coryo told you, standing up. “Stay here, I'll only be a minute, little dove.” Coryo kissed your cheek before slithering thru the crowd to follow Sejanus and Billy Taupe as they ventured to a back room.

After a while, you got concerned and decided to find out what was going on. So, you went down the back hallway and into the room you saw Coryo slip into. Which was a mistake considering you walked right into a dicey situation.

You saw a small pile of guns splayed out with Sejanus, Billy Taupe, Spruce, and Coryo all in a corner of the room, exchanging barbs.

“Who's she?” Spruce asked, pointing to you with a gun.

Looking over his shoulder, Coryo gritted his teeth and told you, “Baby, I told you to wait for me out there.” He grabbed your wrist and shoved you behind him, while telling Spruce, “She's my girl.”

But at the same time Billy Taupe said, “Y/N Scarlett's Covey, her and her peacekeeper friends are coming with us.”

“Since when, Billy?” Asked the shrill voice that belonged to the district shrew, Mayfair Lipp.

Oh shit…

Mayfair entered from the other side of the room, making her presence known when she heard her pathetic accordion player boyfriend was planning on taking a Covey girl and some peacekeepers somewhere.

Somewhere her daddy wouldn't approve of.

“What's going on?” The redhead asked.

Looking at his girl, who he was trying to shake in favor of making up with Lucy Gray, Billy said, “I'll explain later, Mayfair. Just let it go.”

“No, I won't let it go, Billy. I want to know what you're planning with these guns.”

“Oh my God, Coryo, I'm so sorry. I swear, I didn't mean to bring you into this mess.” Sejanus cried.

“You should be sorry. You've pulled not just me, but the mother of my child into your stupid bullshit.” Coryo angrily shouted. He was so pissed that he could strangle Sejanus for his stupidity.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't know.” Blubbered the dark haired peacekeeper.

“Wait a minute, I know exactly who the two of you are.” Mayfair’s beady eyes lit up. Pointing at Coryo, she said, “You were Lucy Gray Baird’s Capitol mentor during the games.” Pointing to you, she sniggered, “And you're her cousin.”

You and Coryo exchanged worried looks. Right now, both of you wished you'd stayed outside in the main bar room of the Hobb.

“Well, wouldn't my daddy like to know that you're all planning on running away.” Mayfair's voice rang out, all smug and evil sounding.

“She won't say anything.” Billy Taupe assured everyone. Looking at his girlfriend, he asked, “Won't you?”

“Oh, why don't you ask her if I'm bluffing.” Mayfair pointed to you. “Did your cousin like her trip to the Capitol? Maybe you and your peacekeeper traitor boyfriend will like your trip to the hanging tree.” Mayfair said before pivoting on her heel and making to leave. To tell her father, Mayor Lipp, about what she's seen and overheard.

But before she got very far, Coryo reached for one of the rifles and shot her in the back, causing her to fall down.

Dead.

Your eyes widened, but you knew why he did it. He did it to protect you and the baby.

“What did you just do?! Why did you do that for?!” Billy Taupe shouted at Coryo while Sejanus was just balling his eyes out.

“He did what he had to, she was gonna talk.” Spruce said, siding with Coryo.

“Oh, I'm not going down for this.” Billy frantically said, most likely figuring that he'd be the first suspect since he was Mayfair's man. Grabbing a gun, he pointed it at you and Coriolanus.

He never got a shot off cause Spruce got him first. Tossing his gun in the pile and motioning for Coryo to do the same, he told your boyfriend, “I'll get rid of the guns.”

Coriolanus nodded, only to turn to you and cup your cheeks. “Go back out there and find some friends to talk to as an alibi.” Kissing you, he swore, “I'll keep you and our baby safe, I promise, my little dove.”

“I know you will.” You replied, softly wrapping your hands around his wrists and squeezing them.

Sejanus was crying to bad that he was hunched over, having a panic attack. You and Coryo shared a silent look. Without words, you told him to help his friends and he agreed that he word.

After parting from each other, you went out to the main bar room of the Hobb while Coryo calmed down his best friend and assured Sejanus that they're brothers; that he'll protect him.

Sadly, Coryo couldn't protect Sejanus from being marked a rebel spy and a traitor; from the noose of the hanging tree. The death of his friend hit him hard. Sejanus was hanged alongside Spruce and his sister, Lil.

Coryo had received a spot in an elite officer's training program in 2; he wanted you to go along with him. Apparently officers were allowed to have women. Coriolanus himself was the son of General Crassus Snow. You agreed to go with him, but told him that you suspect that Spruce might've told Lucy Gray about what happened.

When he asked you why, you told him that Lucy Gray made a remark about how you couldn't trust Coryo because men like him need to tie up loose ends in order to get what they want. That if he's able to find the guns hidden at the cabin he'll get rid of her; tie up his loose end so that he'll be free to ran back to the Capitol.

Lucy Gray had told you that in warning, after stumbling upon Spruce hiding the guns while out hiking to help clear her head and get her muses energized. But, you didn't take her warning. In fact, you did the opposite of that warning; told Coryo all about it.

When he asked where your cousin was so that he could talk to her about what she knew, you never would've thought in your wildest dreams that he'd kill her to shut her up. To ensure that he'd be able to bring you with him to District 2.

So, you told him that Lucy Gray was hiding out at the lakeside cabin because she was afraid of Mayor Lipp (since he's been harassing her ever since his daughter's death).

No, how would you know that by telling your boyfriend where to find your cousin that you're signing her death warrant.

The day of your departure arrives and you don't have many things to bring. Just a single, small carpet bag filled with a handful of dresses. You're wearing one of your nicest dresses paired with the orange scarf Coryo gave you. And when Coryo saw you step onto the train platform, he couldn't help but to run over to you and wrap his arms around you.

Kissing you, he smiled, “You look beautiful, my darling.”

“You look quite handsome yourself.” You told him, since he did look stunning in his dress uniform. Honestly, the hat did things for you.

“I'm glad you think so.” He smirked. Breaking your embrace, he took your hand in his and said, “Come on, we need to be sent off by Commander Hoff.”

“Okay.” You nod, despite feeling uneasy about revealing your relationship to his former commander.

After a couple of minutes walking along the platform, you spotted Commander Hoff. He was standing by the train, waiting for Coriolanus. Upon seeing him, Coryo greeted him with a salute. You did a slight curtsey, out of respect.

“There’s been a slight change of plans. You and your girl will be going to the Capitol instead.” Commander Hoff informed the two of you. “You make us proud, Snow.” He said before walking off.

“The Capitol…” You trailed off in awe.

A large grin split Coryo's face from ear to ear as he picked you up and spun you around. “We're going home, baby. We're going home.”

As you sat with Coryo on a train bound for the Capitol your family was at home, sulking over your sudden decision to leave. One that they didn't approve of. One that they thought Lucy Gray would be able to talk you out of if she was around. They blamed the mayor for her absence

And while, yes, her fear of Mayor Lipp made Lucy Gray hide out in the cabin, it was Coriolanus Snow that truly made her disappear when he showed up at the cabin, peacekeeper issued pistol in hand. Poor thing was at her patch of Katniss, checking to see if they were ready to pick when he snuck up behind her and shot her point blank in the head.

He dumped her and the guns that he found hidden under the floorboards, after tearing the entire cabin apart, in the lake.

You'd never know that he committed not one but two murders to keep you safe, to keep your unborn baby safe. Because to Coryo you're as precious as spun glass and he'll do anything to protect you. Anything or anybody he sees as a threat to you and the baby he'll deal with.

And he knew that Lucy Gray was dangerous. She didn't trust him; might try to turn you against him. The thing about spun glass that it can break if not handled with care. Coryo will never let anyone break you, so Lucy Gray had to go.

He knew that your cousin saw right thru his facade. Could see him for the true snake he was. And he couldn't have her ruining everything for the two of you.

But you'll never know any of that. All you'll know is the safety of the Capitol and a loving husband that'll spoil you and your baby rotten.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @nowitsmissing @edb954 @astarborntowrite @devils-blackrose @gentle-aesthetic-bby @elizabeth-nobennet @harvey-malfoy

[aqwnstars]

Give me siren scara or bratty mermaid scara hc pls. I'm begging you. I'm on the floor. I'm bashing my head on the wall.

HEY POOKIE<33 TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!

- A.N- I haven't been writing lately because my schools getting harder and I recently got an F in an exam so i have to study so the alpha scara isn't coming out soon so sorry my lovelies :(( I try to do my requests first, and then any other fanfic i started doing, but since fanfics take me a week or so to write, this one.... will be written in a headcanon format.. I'm not that experienced with writing a hc format so any criticism is appreciated, in a later time i might make a whole fanfic<33 (FUUCKKCKKKS I FORGOT TO WRITE HIM AS A BRAT ONEOMFMKOAKXKSK)

uhhmmmm i keep noticing i always write scara pining over reader which im not sure if its TOTTALLLYY in character, but writing him pinininy is cute so stfu🙏🙏🙏

Siren Scaramouche x partially deaf gn reader

Word count: 686 (short one..)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None!!

Pronouns: You/Yours, reader can be any gender (meant to be gender neutral!!)

Loving waves

Siren! Scaramouche who was known in the underwater world as the most majestic siren out of all.

His voice was such a lulling song so much so that anyone who gave him their listening ear couldn't help but be entranced.

And how shocked he was when he met a person he couldn't lure in.

He began to only think about them, at first planning on how to kill them because he wouldn't let someone he choose to lure in and kill survive, due to his ego, but that began to turn into a genuine interest a few weeks later.

Without thinking about it, Scaramouche had spent hours just staring at you, he wouldn't say it's admiring of course.

It has become a routine at this point, you'd go work outside, maybe take a walk and he'd just stare at you, gazing longingly at your features from afar.

The way you two met would be as if it was straight out of a fairy tale, he'd get caught up in a fishing web, and you'd be his knight in shining armor!!

Him, being a siren, is seen as a terrifying being, a coldblooded murderer, but to you he was such a majestic being, if you were more naive you'd think he was a God (in which case, he wouldn't complain!!)

Everyday since you had saved him, you started to visit him. You brought little trinkets from your home, and he brought you a few shells. (sometimes that is, if you're lucky!!) Might I add, the shells he gifted you were like no other. They range in colors and shapes, not even the most avid collecters saw the shells he had given you.

He enjoyed spending time with you, more than he thought he would. He has gotten used to being alone, so a daily presence in his life was something unusual.

He'd let you touch his tail, his face turning pink as you compliment him. Your fingers on his tail, lightly caressing his scales. He couldn't help but look away as you admired him. If anyone else had requested to touch his tail, he'd plan a new song just for them, ...let's ignore the fact he offered to let you touch his tail, that's an unimportant detail.

One of the things he loved, ahem... liked most about you is the gentleness your eyes hold. He has gotten so used to the trashing waves of hatred in the mankinds eyes, but to see one's with calming flowing water? He could and would get lost in that body of water, no hesitation, of course he wouldn't tell you that though!

He wanted to listeh to you all day, anyone who said his voice was enchanting has never heard yours. Although you sometimes slur your words, stutter and at times get too loud, he loves that about you.

At times he wished you were a siren too, how beautiful would you look under the waters light he wonders. How would your tail sway in the oceans, rivers and seas?

One time, you asked him whether or not he can sing without indangering someone, he had never thought about that. Well of course he's not gonna risk losing his only love to find out, but that's a story for another day.

A few things I can definitely see him doing is;

Giving you his scales! He could tell how you always admired his tail, your eyes glowing at how his tail would practically shine under the Suns light. One night, he'd pluck a scale out, later in the say give it to you, saying: "It had accidentally fallen out, here. Don't think for a second I pulled it out for you." All while looking away, trying to look as non-chalant as possible while.. panicking inside over your reaction.

This might seem cruel, but he'd sing to insects, without the intention of killing them, to see if he can sing to you without putting you in danger.

He'd look around the seas floor for hours to find a shell that you'd like!! (.. you like everything he gives you so that's... pointless..)

AND THAT'S ALL I HAVE ON SIREN SCARA!!! :DD I HOPE I SATISFIED YOUR REQUEST POOKIE!!! (hope i did the hc format right..............

[elliespassagerprincess]

heyy could you write something based on Dark Red by Steve Lacy?

i love all your works btw

Dark red - (ellie williams x reader)

hi poookie!! thank you sm!! i hope you don't mind me writing this as a gore story, I've been writing a lot of fluff recently and i missed my violent stories, but if you want me to write a different version just let me know!!! i hope you enjoy <33

This story is based off the song Dark Red by Steve Lacy, if you can please listen to the song while you're reading:)

Pairing: ellie x fem!reader

requests are open! send me your silly thoughts

HUGE warning: murder, kidnapping, being held hostage, dead bodies, violence

Summary: in which she wanted you to herself

masterlist

"Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

I don't know what, but I feel it coming

Might be so sad, might leave my nose running

I just hope she don't wanna leave me"

Something bad was going to happen. Ellie could feel it in her bones. She doesn't know why she feels this way, but ever since she woke up this morning, she's been filled with dread. A heaviness in her gut she can't shake off.

Ellie sat at her desk, anxiously waiting for the bell to ring. She hasn't been home for the last 3 days because of school spirit week.

Ellie was so pissed off when she heard they were having a camping day, a sleepover and a all nighter back to back. Everyone was complaining that they were exhausted due to all the activities happening at school, but Ellie wasn't thinking about sleep.

She was thinking about you.

She was always thinking about you.

Ellie could see everyone was staring at the clock, they were practically counting down the seconds before the bell rang. They wanted to go home.

Ellie wanted to go home too, she needed to get home to you.

5, 4, 3, 2-

Before the bell rang the intercom went off. The students groaned thinking that they had to stay at school for another day.

"Can Ellie Williams please come to the principals office. Ellie Williams. I repeat, can Ellie Williams please come to the principals office"

fuck.

The bell rang soon after and everyone ran to the door, Ellie watched as they ran like animals.

"Fucking idiots" she thought to herself

She waited till most of the kids were gone, before she got up grabbing her bag and slowly making her way to the office.

She knocked on the door, and she heard a small "come in".

She let out a sigh as she reluctantly pushed open the door and she was greeted by a the principal and a detective.

What the fuck?

"Close the door and sit down" the principal instructed.

As she sat down her heartrate increased. Her ears were ringing, her palms were sweaty.

The detective cleared his throat before he spoke "as you know y/n has been missing for 3 months now"

She nods

"after further investigation, it seems you were the last one seen with her"

"Was i really or are you looking for someone to blame?" Ellie asked with a raised brow.

She knew where you were, but she couldn't tell him that.

"Ms Williams you're under suspension of kidnapping"

Ellies fists clench by her sides "why am i? Just because i was last seen with her?"

"You guys were best friends, many people said you were close, some say you where obsessed"

Oh she was mad. Ellie was really mad. She wasn't obsessed, she just cared about you.

"i wasn't" she said through gritted teeth.

"We think you know where she is"

Ellie got up, her fist hitting the table "so you're accusing an underage child of kidnapping? do i look like I'm capable of doing that?"

"Ms Williams-"

"no"

Ellie turned to the door and she stormed out. She walked out of the building rushing home to see you.

She hoped you didn't leave her.

"Don't you give me up, please don't give up

On me, I belong with you and only you, baby

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you, babe

Only you, my girl, only you, babe

Only you, darling, only you"

They weren't wrong about what ellie had done to you.

But she had to do it! How else was she supposed to keep you to herself?

Ellie always has feelings for you. Ever since you shyly asked her for a pencil in year 8, she's been all over you. As the years went by her fondness towards you grew, you made her blush, you made her giggle, you made her so fucking happy.

Overtime the two of you built a good friendship but Ellie always wanted more.

It was a Thursday, the sun was shining and the two of had a science project to finish.

The homecoming dance was getting closer and she wanted to ask you. Ellie thought this was the perfect moment to ask you.

"So....with who are you going to homecoming?" Ellie asked clearing her throat

"oh Dina asked me"

"what did you say?"

"I said yes, i think Dina is cute"

No no no no no no no

Not her. You belong to her. You were hers. Not Dina. You were supposed to go with her.

No no no no no

"Ellie?" You asked with concern seeing her zoned out expression.

Ellie looked at you briefly before her hands wrapped around your neck. You let out a silent scream trying to scratch her. You tried fighting but you couldn't. Ellie was stronger than you, she was bigger too.

Eventually you went limp in her hands.

Heavy breaths left Ellie's mouth.

You were still breathing. Good.

She dragged you to her house, hiding behind bushes once in a while to make sure no one saw her. She dragged you into her house, and into her basement.

Ellie placed your body onto the cold floor and she watched you breathing faintly.

Now you cant go with Dina.

"Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

Why I feel this way, I don't know maybe

I think of her so much, it drives me crazy

What if she's fine?

It's my mind that's wrong

And I just let bad thoughts

Linger for far too long"

You're fine. You're fine. You're fine.

She's just having bad thoughts. Ellie has always had a tendency to overthink things.

She knew it was bad to overthink but she was always prepared for the worst.

When Ellie first kidnapped you, 3 months ago everything was fine.

You never screamed, you never fought back, you always tried negotiating or escaping which was good because she didn't need to tie you up or gag you.

You made things easy for her. Ellie fed you, she kept you company, she tried to be Dina.

She really tried to keep you happy.

You didn't need Dina, you needed her.

But for the last month you've been very sick. You barley spoke, you barley ate, you barley moved.

There was something wrong with you, she just didn't know what it was.

Since she hasn't been home for 3 days, Ellie didn't know if you would still be alive. There was no one to feed you. No one to talk to you. You were all alone.

You're fine. You're fine. You're fine.

She's just overthinking it.

Her house key rattled as she pushed open the door. She quickly made her way to the basement, unlocking the door. She walked down the stairs quietly calling your name.

You didn't say anything. She didn't see any movement. she slowly made her way to the bed she had made for you and there you were.

Your skin was pale, cold and it was turning blue. You weren't breathing.

Ellie let out a sigh as she gently grabbed your body, hugging you, not caring of the smell.

Atleast Dina cant get to you.

You were hers. You were safe. You were ok. You now only belong to her.

<3

[silverskye13]

I need to ask, though:

*How* long has he been in the water?

The earliest "he is surely in the water now" mention I can see is Etho stepping backwards after the splash - he's stepping through the water that's why it's hard. The Bdubs hug feels like "not yet" cause Etho shouldn't be up to his shoulders then - but it might be the starting to lead in point, 'm unsure? And the singing moment might indicate the start of charming?

Honestly, I love everything about this. I love everything about every your text, the way you manipulate details and atmosphere. When I'm trying to remember my first read, it's. A lot of suspence. I know something will come, it might be Bdubs - it surely is Bdubs, and I expect him to catch Etho unaware. The murder talk, the danger that I anticipate - it's not there yet, but I'm waiting for it, and the tune, the hug, the splash, the buckle - all of them feel like fakeouts to keep the pressure. And the bells are ringing, the hints are all there, but they're so carefully weaved into everything else they might be just words.

And then the question sounds, and the horror hits.

With frantic scrolling up, re-reading, getting even more terrified, and begging for Etho to do something.

It's high mastery, imo.

Oh man, thank you so much for the kind words :D I'm glad you liked the fic, and that the suspense/horror came together so well! I don't write straight horror too terribly often? And I was trying to really stretch some muscles with this one, to see what I could do.

For when exactly Etho gets in the water: I didn't really define that for myself. I wanted him in the water to happen in the space between cues in the story. But I can talk about the things that happen around that.

When Etho sees the stone on the still water, he is getting his first glimpse of the creature. Something is watching him from across the unnatural stillness of the river. When he thinks to himself, "I'm on the dock and I'm safe," the siren song has started and he's been charmed. Up until this point, he's shown some amount of caution [walking quietly on the dock, making sure he isn't wearing anything heavy besides his sword, prioritizing what activities he does first] but when he suddenly and overtly drops caution for "I'm safe on the dock", he's being lied to by something else. And, after emphasizing that nothing can drag him into the water against his will, he reaches over the side of the dock and touches the water willingly.

The rest of the story after that is, to me, the siren justifying sounds and sensations that would break the spell. Etho hears himself shuffling on the dock -- that's just BDubs walking up behind him, nothing to worry about. Etho feels a sense of danger and unease -- well, BDubs is talking about killing Grian. Etho hears the creature moving towards him in the water -- BDubs has his legs over the side of the dock and is kicking around. BDub's eyes are the wrong color -- well, the sunset is reflecting off them, making them red.

Somewhere in these cues, Etho starts shivering, because the water is cold, and he's standing in it.

I also tried to weave in a little bit, the idea that Etho knows he's being charmed? Mostly to do with the end, when he finally gives us the reason why he came to the water in the first place: he wants to see and hear his friend again, and the monster's illusion is the only way he can. But he knows enough to be cautious. He doesn't want BDubs to touch him -- it could be the monster, keep your distance. He feels fear at the idea of deep water, something that nearly scares him out of the illusion, but when he's given the chance to break it [checking his heartbeat to see if it's unnaturally calm], it's knowing he'll stop seeing BDubs that makes him decide not to check.

Etho's flaw in this is he thinks he has more control than he does. He hasn't "come to the water" until he's stepped in. But the truth of the matter is, as soon as he decided he wanted to see BDubs again, he was already willing to be deceived, and someone can't be dragged in against their will.

"How long have I been in the water, BDubs?" [When did I fall for the charm?]

"Does it matter?" [The minute you missed hearing my voice.]

There are other little things I had fun with: the start and end of the illusion both have to do with armor, something that should protect him, but is useless when it isn't worn. Every time Etho makes the mistake of feeling safe, he can see the creature [in the river at the start, when it's trying actively to drown him at the end]. The fact that, when BDubs jumps in the water, Etho shouts "Keep your distance!" and Tango mentioned they would be listening for his scream, to come rescue him. The fact that BDubs straight up says "You're not scared of me, the monster, you're scared of the deep water. But people drown in shallow water all the time."

I dunno! Fun little things that up the stakes a little. This was a really fun one to work on :D

[harrysfolklore]

hey bff can you do a insta blurb with a non binary person and harry 🫶🏻 could be any non binary face claim i’m not picky THANK YOUUU

ahhh here it is ! ex!yn inspired by kill bill by sza, i hope you like it, let the know your thoughts !

if you want exclusive blurbs, tropes and polls SUBSCRIBE TO MY PATREON

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by mileycyrus, jorjasmith_ and 2,028,976 others

yourinstagram if i can’t have you no one should

view all 78,927 comments

ynfan1 SLAY

dualipa my best friend is gorgeous 🤍

ynfan2 they’re the hottest ever

ynfan3 is this shadeeee

dojacat 🔥🔥

harryfan1 them posting this when harry is dating someone else? i call shade

ynfan4 new song ??

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,093 others

harryupdates Harry and Olivia at a farmers market today!

view all 926 comments

harryfan1 aweeee

harryfan2 i don’t like this i miss yn

↳ harryfan3 they broke up move on

harryfan4 cuties <3

ynfan1 anyway

liked by dualipa, bellahadid and 2,986,008 others

yourinstagram i might kill my ex, not the best idea. his new girlfriend's next, how'd I get here?

coming soon 👀

view all 80,873 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGGGG

mileycyrus YES 🔥

ynfan2 THEY’RE ABOUT TO SHOCK THE WORLD

harryfan1 harry and olivia should consider witness protection

ynfan3 they’re really going to release a song about murdering their ex and his new gf SO CHAOTIC

harryfan2 just shady and for what

theestallion No one is readyyy

liked by jefezoff, lizzobeeating and 2,313,461 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Los Angeles XI. November, 2022.

view all 49,938 comments

harryfan1 my babyyyyy

harris_reed My little star ❤️

ynfan1 oh look yn hasn’t unalived him yet

oliviawilde 😍

↳ harryfan2 ew

liked by tinashe, steve.lacy and 3,102,827 others

yourinstagram KILL BILL the lead single from my third album is out now 🖤🖤

view all 87,027 comments

ynfan1 OMFGGG FINALLYYY

selenagomez So excited 🔥🔥

theweeknd So proud of you my friend ❤️

ynfan2 THIS NEEDS TO BE #1 ASAP

harryfan1 the lyrics 😳😳😳

harryfan2 they’re being so bitter and shady over harry being happy.. disappointing

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 5,093 others

ynupdates Kill Bill full lyrics !

view all 994 comments

ynfan1 SONG OF THE YEAR

ynfan2 they ate and left no crumbs

harryfan1 im worried about harry

harryfan2 @oliviawilde @harrystyles you should fly out of the country

ynfan3 SLAYED SO HARD

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 3,863 others

harrysposting yn is being so shady in their new song and for what ??? them and harry broke up two years ago and he moved on unlike them 🤷‍♀️

view all 863 comments

harryfan1 agreed

harryfan2 idk, at the end of the day they’re a singer just like harry is and they write about their personal experiences

ynfan1 you harry fans act as it he didn’t release songs about yn and their relationship in his new album

ynfan2 so harry can drop songs like little freak where he talks about their breakup but yn can’t do the same thing ?? okay

harryfan3 the song will flop anyway

ynfan3 STREAM KILL BILL

liked by harryfan1, ynfan1 and 102,973 others

deuxmoi Trouble in paradise? Months of messy, embarrassing headlines about their personal lives, have started to take its toll on the couple.

Styles and Wilde, accompanied by a group of friends, attended a Wolf Alice concert in Los Angeles Wednesday night.

Concert-goers shared photos and videos of the couple on Twitter, the “Don’t Worry Darling” stars rarely interacted — despite the fact they sat next to one another at the show. The perceived distance between the couple might have been due to Harry’s ex, YN, recent single “Kill Bill” which lyrics were explicitly about the couple.

view all 43,037 comments

harryfan1 OH

harryfan2 please this is a reach

ynfan1 it’s not yn’s fault that their relationship is going downhill 🤷‍♀️

harryfan3 fuck yn

↳ ynfan2 keep their name out of your mouth

liked by florencepugh, dojacat and 2,985,873 others

yourinstagram THANK YOU for making kill bill the #1 song in the world ! music video coming soon 🥲🤍

view all 75,837 comments

ynfan1 SLAAAYYY

arianagrande 🔥🔥

harryfan1 bestie save us from olivia’s shackles

ynfan2 imagine being this iconic

steve.lacy Yoooo🤍

gemmachan I love you ❤️

harryfan2 don’t kill your ex please

ynfan3 they’re the moment

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 5,027 others

ynupdates YN at Harry Styles show in Los Angeles tonight !

view all 1,002 comments

ynfan1 PAUSE ???

ynfan2 THEY’RE SO UNHINGED

harryfan1 olivia is there with the kids 💀

harryfan2 SO MESSY

ynfan3 they’re going to unalive harry and olivia and livestream it and that’s going to be the kill bill music video

harryfan3 what does this mean 😭

liked by jefezoff, paulithepsm and 3,155,317 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Los Angeles XII. November, 2022.

view all 79,827 comments

harryfan1 MY BABYYYYY

paulithepsm immaculate

ynfan1 good to know he’s still alive after yn attended his concert

annetwist ❤️❤️

harryfan2 yn fans get out of his comment section

harryfan3 olivia didn’t like or comment this 👀

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 192,927 others

people Harry Styles and Olivia Wilde are hitting the brakes on their romance.

The “As It Was” singer and the “Don’t Worry Darling” director are taking a break from their relationship after nearly two years together. Tap our bio link for more details.

view all 28,836 comments

harryfan1 OH

ynfan1 interesting 😳😳

harryfan2 they looked happy together :( i hope harry is okay

ynfan2 kill bill impact ??

harryfan3 PLOT TWIST OF THE CENTURY

ynfan3 this happening when kill bill is the #1 song in the world is just so funny

↳ ynfan4 them attending his show was his last straw

harryfan4 SINGLERRY

liked by theestallion, arianagrande and 3,021,983 others

yourinstagram rather be in hell than alone 😊

view all 79,873 comments

ynfan1 BESTIEEEE

zendaya they’re an icon they’re a legend and they’re the moment

harryfan1 it was their plan right 💀

iamhalsey ❤️

florencepugh 👀

ynfan2 THEY’RE UNBOTHERED AS THEY SHOULD

harryfan2 not thisss

harrystyles wants to send you a direct message

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci i @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs s @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @gumballavocadoharry @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace

[crowandmousewritingco]

Death Row

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x gn!Lannister!reader

Words: 6.1k

Rating: T (more for violence and angst. Think like a PG13 movie)

Summary: The Red Viper is finally brought to justice, but to you there is more than meets the eye.

Warnings: Murder, implied past rape (not the reader), implied past child murder (both off screen) The Lannisters being the Lannisters, use of poisons, hanging, death. (I might have missed a few)

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: I wrote this fic for the #almostfoxgloveangstchallenge put on by the wonderful @almostfoxglove. The song I was given with this prompt was Death Row by Chris Stapleton so if you want to listen along to get you in the mood go right ahead! I'm actually super proud of both 1) writing a pretty angsty fic since I'm a solid member of the fluff committee and 2) I usually don't write this long of fic. So I hope you all enjoy this work.

They did it. The Red Viper was finally captured after avoiding different law enforcement across dozens of counties. He could hide in plain sight and only peek out of his burrow when he was ready to strike. There were many reported deaths tied directly to the outlaw, and they were always closely tied to the Sherriff which caused a stir in this section of the country. 

But now the region didn’t need to worry about this mysterious man any longer. He was brought into local custody when he was detained at the scene of the murder of Sheriff Tywin Lannister’s Gregor Clegane aka The Mountain. By the time the Sheriff got there The Mountain was already dead and the Red Viper who, surrounded by a group of the Lannister’s men, was just staring at the corpse of his victim. He didn’t put up any sort of fight when he was arrested, nor did he defend himself during his very short trial. 

You were there despite your dad’s attitude towards you. Considering you were his bastard child he didn’t want you anywhere near the judicial area of town, but that still didn't stop you. Your other siblings were regular attendants so you would be too. 

 You took in the man on trial. The Red Viper was someone to be feared and brought nothing but death in his wake. But when you looked at the golden man on the judgement stand you saw the expression on his face. He was calm and even a bit cocky as he leaned back in his chair with his feet on the table. 

Of course he was sentenced to death by hanging. The evidence against him was undeniable, and soon he would be left to rot in his cell until the day they called up to the gallows. You lingered in the courtroom that day, staring at the door the guards let him through long after he was gone. Something about his expression made you want to visit him. 

That day you came up with a plan. Luckily you had your father’s schedule down to a science. After he left in the morning you knew he wouldn’t be back until supper giving you plenty of time to sneak into the jails. The only problem was the guards. Unfortunately they were all too aware of who you were, so going in the front door wasn’t an option. Behind the prison would be your best bet. 

With your plan in motion, you set out to discover who this man was. You peaked out the backdoor of the house making sure the coast was clear. When you saw no one you quietly ran across the street. Taking the familiar alleys and backways you found yourself at the back of the holding cells. As you thought there were only two guards at the front which meant no one would be inside. The building was top of the line, but you knew the backways into the cells thanks to your years of sneaking behind your father’s back. 

You approached the barred window and gave each of the bars a tug. Just like you thought a couple of them were loose from the recent rain and you were able to pull them just enough to shimmy inside. You really ought to tell your father about this escape route, but you also weren’t too keen on your father. 

The holding cells were as musty as you remember. There were hardly any windows so the air felt heavy and old. Years of prisoners breathing the same air as they awaited a similar end created a sense of weight to the area. All of the cells were empty save for the one the Red Viper was held in which from the clinking of stones being thrown was the last one of the left. 

Slowly you approached being as quiet as you can be. Despite this though a rough accented voice flowed through the quiet hallway. “I told you I had no intention of giving you a statement.” 

“I apologize I’m not the press.” You reply and step out of the shadows. 

The Red Viper leaned against the far wall, hands in his lap picking absently at his nail, the pile of tossed stones at the edge of the bars. What little light trickled into the jail beamed against the prisoner’s bright yellow outfit. But the luster of the outfit was damped by the dust and grime that gathered on the material over the course of time. His face matched his clothes. What was once a well trimmed and care for beard was ragged and well past its shave date. 

When you came into view, he raised his eyebrows confused at your presence. “Well you are not what I was expecting to waltz through those doors.” His dark eyes raked over your body curious about the creature in front of him. 

“It seems I’m not the only one visiting the infamous Red Viper.” You comment. 

He rolled his eyes. “If you are here to spit and drag my name through the mud. I’m not interested.” 

“How can I drag your name through the mud if I don’t know your name,” You quip back. 

The Red Viper smirks. “Smart mouth on this one. I quite like that. Makes you different from the other rats of this town.” 

“Well unfortunately some of those rats are my family so I’m supposed to be offended for them,” You sigh and sit down in front of the bars. 

The prisoner leaned forward taking a better look at you since you were more in the dim light. “I recognize you from the trial. You sat with the other sheriff's children. Since when did Lannister children converse with criminals?” 

“Just now. I guess one of us has to break tradition.” You shrug your shoulders. 

“And I am the one you’re breaking tradition for? Truly an honor.” He gently tips his head to you. 

“Well you are infamous in this area. A lot of people hate you,” You tell him bluntly. 

“They hate me for all the wrong reasons.” 

You look back towards the doors. Still as silent as when you came in. “I don’t hate you.” 

He scanned your face looking for anything that would give you away. “Why?” 

You took a deep breath. “I saw the way you held yourself at the trial.” You turned your head back to him. “There’s more to you than meets the eye.” 

“Clever thing you are,” He muses dark predatory eyes raking up and down your body. “You are correct. I’m not just some senseless killer.” 

You leaned forward bracing your forearm across your knee. “Then tell me.”

He was quiet for a long time and you almost thought he fell asleep, but his voice spoke again. “Come back tomorrow and I will tell you my story. But there will be an equivalent exchange.” 

You mull over his words. “And what are you looking for in exchange?” 

The Red Viper leaned his head back against the dirty bricks and gazed at your form. “Bring me something that is dear to you. It will be enough to match the importance of my story.” 

You were quiet for a moment thinking over his offer. There was something that was near and dear to your heart that you knew that would satisfy the stranger, but was this story really worth the possibility of losing your precious item. A soft sigh escaped your lips and you smirked. “Your story better be damn important.” 

The stranger smirked and nodded his head. “That will be determined by you.” 

Carefully you stood up and brushed off the accumulated dust from your pants. “Fine, expect me around the same time tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be waiting with baited breath for your return.” He replied, that cocky smirk returning to his lips. 

You gave him a small nod before quietly retracing your steps out of the escape route. Just as carefully as you arrived you returned to your house. It was silent as a morgue, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Gods only know what would happen if you had to explain where you’ve been all day to any member of your family. 

You returned to your bedroom and sat down on the familiar furniture. The silence allowed you to ruminate on the day. A stranger walks into your life and you had no idea how this was about to change your life. Thoughts kept rolling over in your head, leaving your appetite less than ideal. Your family wouldn’t miss you for dinner. This was your safe haven. 

Carefully you lit the candle beside you bed and grabbed the book you had been reading opening it up to your saved spot. Though you only made it a few chapters. The weight of that story made your eyes drowsy making the idea of a nap sound like the best idea. You kicked off your shoes and let yourself curl up on your bed. The thoughts in your head drifted but you soon found yourself in a deep sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun slowly filtered into your room adding a warm glow to everything. The light hit your closed eyes and pulled you from the land of dreams. You grumbled annoyed to be awakened in such a manner, but the events of yesterday trickled back into your mind. That was enough to motivate you to get out of bed.  

Slowly you went over to your water basin and cupped the water in your hands splashing it into your face. The feeling of the cool water woke you up more allowing you to take a breath. You took your wash cloth and gently rubbed the sleep from your face wanting or rather needing yourself to be fully awake today. After you finished your morning routine, you traveled downstairs. 

The remnants of breakfast were on the table and an array of meats and breads were left messily on the counter, but yet no one was around. You sighed. This was the usual. Your father and Jamie always left at the crack of dawn, and Cersei couldn’t be bothered to talk to you. Who knew where your other brother was which gave you too much time to yourself. 

You sighed and gathered what you could for a meal, and luckily they had left enough for you to eat your fill. Staring at the empty chairs in front of you really did solidify what you were about to do. It was obvious that your family didn’t give two shits about you. A “bastard” claimed as a Lannister so their name would be smeared through the horse’s shit they rode in on. Why would it hurt to hear the story from this man.The Mountain had only done harm and it was under your father’s command that he committed such actions. With those thoughts you were resolved. 

Leaving the table how you found it, you hurried back up to your room to find the item the stranger wanted. With some effort you pulled the chest from under your bed and with the sleeve of your shift gently wiped the dust from the lid to reveal the pattern underneath. With familiar ease you traced the name that was etched into the wood. 

You missed your mother. Another victim of this wretched town. You popped the lock open on the trunk and rummaged around until your fingers hit the familiar cool metal. Carefully you pulled the necklace out from underneath the pile of her clothes. The heart shaped locket rested easily against your palm. Tears pricked at your eyes and you gently pressed a kiss to it. 

Emotions stirred in your chest, blurry memories coming to the forefront of your mind. But you didn’t have time for that. The stranger’s story was waiting for you. You took a deep breath before gathering the chain and setting it on your dresser. You made sure the chest made it back under your bed before you got changed for the day. Carefully you slipped the necklace into your pocket giving it a gentle pat.

Without losing another moment you hurried out of the house. Following a similar path as you did yesterday, you sneaked your way back to the holding cells. Everything seemed the same as yesterday and plopped down from the bars, falling harder than you were expecting.

You froze for a few seconds making sure that the guards didn’t hear the sound. When there was no indication of the guards sensing your presence, you tipped-toed your way back to the holding cells. Just like you left him yesterday there the stranger was against the wall with his head against the bricks. 

His head tilted towards the sound and the corners of his mouth tipped upward  when he saw it was you. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” 

You rolled your eyes but there was a grin on your face. “You just met me.” You comment as you sit down on the dirty floor once again. 

“And yet you came back all for a little story.” He mused his eyes following your movement. 

“I did.” You answered and reached into your pocket. While holding the chain you held the locket in front of you. The Red Viper sat forward in interest and for the first time since meeting him he got up and sat in front of the bars. With well worn and bruised fingers he caressed the metal with a surprising gentleness for a so-called ruthless killer. 

“Who did this belong to?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of the metal. 

“My mother.” You whispered 

The stranger looked up at you. “I’m sorry.” He whispered understanding the situation and yet no words were exchanged. 

He opened the locket. “To my beautiful child. May the fawn protect you from the wrath of the lions.” You quoted the inscription from memory. Everynight when you were growing up you fell asleep with the memento under your pillow. You didn’t know your mother, but you knew she would always protect you. 

With curiosity etched in his expression, the stranger looked back at you. “I take it the Lannisters aren’t good to you either.” 

You scoffed. “You could say it. My father decided to bed a daughter of a man whom he wanted for his land. So he had me as blackmail and took what he thought was his. My mother was ruined and I’ve never seen her.” You were quiet for a moment. “It only seemed fair that a story about the Lannisters be met with a similar fate.” You let the chain slip from your hands letting it hit the floor with a clink. 

The Red Viper watched where the jewelry hit the ground for a moment. “Yes, unfortunately our stories are not that different.” He said as his fingers brushed the metal of the fallen memento. 

You leaned your weight against your arm. “Tell me what my father did against you.” 

 “I hope you didn’t have plans to go anywhere else. For this is a long story.” He answered, tilting his head. 

“I am here until you finish your tale.” You reply honestly. 

The Red Viper took a deep breath and released it slowly through his nose. “Okay then you shall hear my tale.” 

Flash Back 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fires of the town were still smoldering by the time he arrived. Heat blasted his face as he frantically searched the town. Many were screaming and running away from the danger, but he was racing into the flames. “Elia!” He yelled over the crack of the ignited wood. The sweat from the heat kept his hair in place as he whipped his head around to get even a glimpse of his sister. 

“Please where are you?” He whispered to himself as he desperately ran from building to building hoping that they were okay. His chest heaved with each pant and would’ve kept running forever, but a sound as loud as a thundercrack bellowed across the crumbling town. 

He whipped his head around and saw what he had been dreading. The familiar house where his sister and her children resided in past familiarity was all but rubble under the broiling flames. Ignoring any sense of safety, the stranger hurried up the broken sign hoping of the slim chance he could pull them out. 

Smoke filled his mouth and burned his eyes, but a simple pain like this wasn’t going to stop him. His family needed him. Without a care for his own wellbeing, he barges through the charred door. 

“Elia!” He screamed over the fire’s roars as he once again tried to find his sister desperately searching every charred nook and cranny. Until his eyes landed on something, and it wasn’t the smoke that caused his tears this time. With shaking legs, he kneeled in front of a fallen beam. Peeking underneath it was a charged hand. On that hand was the ring he recognized all too well. He was there when that ring slipped on his finger when she married Rhaegar. He was there when he held his first nephew and she was exhausted from giving birth. He was there when she told him of her husband’s divorce, and subsequent cheating. 

A crushing sob escaped out of his parched lips and he desperately clung to what was left of his beloved sister. Oh he wanted to stay with her as she burned away to ash, but the gods were cruel and just like the beam that took his sister, another one crashed beside him pulling him from his grief. 

Without a second thought he pulled the ring off of her charred hand and rushed back to the safety of the dark night. He stumbled along the charred pathway eventually tripping on a loose branch. There was nothing he would do but let himself fall. The stranger let himself weep as his world burned around him. His eyes blurred with the tears that continuously fell for his sister and her children. Embers rained around him leaving burn holes in his once vibrant clothing.

When there were no tears left to cry, he didn’t move. He didn’t have the energy to even think about escaping. Though something did catch his eye, something flashing with the dying flames. With all the energy he could muster, he reached out and grabbed the mysterious object. A five star badge with the infamous silver lion etched in the middle. An emblem only used by one family in the area which he knew all too well. 

Sorrow reversed to rage. A rage as hot as the fires that took his sister. The damned lions were responsible for this. He gripped the badge in his hands, the points pressed into his palm causing a slow stream of blood to flow down his arm. He would get his revenge. He would undo this wrong that was cursed upon his innocent family. He glared at the star. Lannisters aren’t the only ones who pay their debts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t realize but tears were streaming down your cheeks until you felt a rough hand caress the droplets from your skin. The touch pulled you out the trace and you looked back at the prisoner. 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled as another round of tears sprang to life. 

“What are you sorry for? Did you kill me sister?” He joked tilting his head. 

“No but I carry that name therefore I carry a part of that sin.” 

The stranger shook his head. “My strange dove, you have no reason to be responsible for your bastard of a father.” 

You took a deep breath calming yourself. “Weirdly enough you're the first person to say that.” You chuckle sadly as you wipe away the spent tears. 

The Red Viper gazed at you with a glimmer in his dark brown eyes. “You really are fascinating.” 

“You’re the fascinating one. But please this isn’t about me. Continue your tale.” You shook your head hiding the heat in your cheeks. 

The way he stared into your eyes it was evident that he wanted to continue his compliments, but for your sake he continued his tale. The stranger leaned back on his hands and tipped his head back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Through many sleepless nights he rode through all the cities, taking names of anyone who might have been involved. He slaughtered many who even had a chance of being involved in the death of his family. If a man had any chance of involvement with the Lannisters, they were questioned on Tywin and his monster of a sheriff, but when they offered no information they were slain on the spot. The only lead the Red Viper could glean from the loyal rats was a preacher in the next town over who was a pastor for a town the Lannisters owned. So as quickly as the stranger could, he mounted his horse and spurred the creature to gallop as fast as its legs could carry them. 

By the time he arrived at the small town, the church crowd had dispersed and were already gathering for the after-sermon meals. Most of the people didn’t notice the outlaw riding into town, but a few jumped back when he stopped his horse a few feet from the entrance. Quickly he tied a loose knot with the reins and stalked up the stairs. 

The church was nothing like the grand sanctuaries in the other bigger towns. It was large enough to house the town's inhabitants with minimal iconography with a simple altar at the head of the church. There stood the Father clearing up the remnants of the sermon. 

“I had a feeling you would find me sooner rather than later,” The man remarked not turning around to meet the stranger. The Red Viper pulled his gun out, pointing the barrel at the back of the preacher. “Shooting me will do you no good either. You can’t get information out of a corpse.” At this remark the preacher glanced over his shoulder at the outlaw. 

“Then talk, Varys. I know you who burned my sister’s town to the ground,” The Red Viper growled, cocking the gun. 

“My my my you are a volatile creature. It’s a wonder you haven’t been caught soon with the trail of bodies I hear you’ve left in your wake,” Varys turned and tucked his hands under his arms. “You seem tense. A cup of tea will calm the nerves.” He turned and ducked under the doorway leading down to the secluded areas of the chapel, unperturbed by the angry man standing in the aisle.

The Red Viper stared at the empty space where Father Varys was standing and cautiously followed him to the chambers. The priest was already preparing the tea with the two cups set on the table. “I figured you could use some chamomile to soothe that seething soul of yours.” 

The stranger didn’t respond but sat down at the empty spot across from the priest. “I swear to the heavens if you try to poison me.” 

Varys smirked as he sipped from his own mug. “You are the Red Viper. You are the king of poisons. The lowest level thug wouldn’t be dumb enough to test your prowess.”

Staring at his cup for a moment, then took the warm liquid up to his lips for a drink. A few sips weren’t enough for him until he finished the whole mug not caring about the burn down his throat. 

The priest sighed as he set the cup back down on the table. Oberyn stared at the priest.  “Now tell me when I can find the Mountain.” 

“He will be at the King’s Landing Tavern for the next few days. Tywin has a new mission for him.” 

“You know for someone who is loyal to the Lannisters, you spill their secrets like a drunken wench.” 

Varys chuckled. “Claiming I was ever loyal to the Lannisters was your first mistake.” 

“A man must have some loyalties.” 

“My loyalties lie with me and only me.” Father Varys gazed over his cup before taking another sip. 

The Red Viper narrowed his gaze. “What then do you get out of telling a wanted criminal the location of the Lannister’s right hand man?” 

Varys shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Let’s say the Mountain has also done some less than savory things to ones I care for as well.” 

The outlaw was silent for a moment. “Thank you,” The stranger answered as he turned away from the doorway. 

“Be careful Viper. The lions will writhe when you succeed,” Varys warned. He dipped his head in acknowledgment as he headed out of the sanctuary. The time was now to prepare for their fateful meeting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The King’s Landing Tavern was alive and music poured from the swinging double doors as the Red Viper stood outside. He had been prepared for this moment since he found his family destroyed by this man. Taking a deep breath letting the anger fuel the energy he needed to move his limbs into the establishment. 

Pushing the wooden doors open, he stepped into the saloon and everything stopped. This bar was only for a select few of the Lannister elites and seeing a stranger meant you were in for some trouble. Scanning the seats his eyes landed on the giant of the man taking up two seats at the bar. He was easily bigger than any of the other patrons, and the Red Viper had his target. 

Ignoring the stares from the rest of the group he sidled up to the bar and plopped down in an empty stool beside his target. “A whiskey dry.” The Red Viper ordered the bartender who without a word took an empty glass and poured two fingers worth of whiskey in the glass. 

With the ease of years of bartending, he slid the glass down to him, but a big arm intercepted the glass. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“And you shouldn’t have messed with my family,” He calmly replied, staring at the shelves of dark liquor. 

“I don’t remember the names of those I’ve slaughtered.” 

The stranger had to keep his anger under control as he felt his blood boil. “I will make you remember this one.” 

The large man scoffed. “Good luck with that.” He whipped out his shotgun as The Red Viper leaped off his chair. The bullet buried itself in the wall behind him. 

The outlaw jumped, rolling as he hit the floor and pulled his own six shooter out. The rest of the bar whipped out their own guns and the stranger waved it at the crowd. “This is between me and the Mountain. If anyone else decides they want to intervene, then I shall send them to an early grave.” He swiveled his feet and turned to point the barrel at his opponent. “My wrath lies with this man.” 

The Mountain cracked his neck and shook out his limbs. “And tell me what are my crimes.” 

“Elia Martell. You were ordered to kill her by Tywin Lannister,” He growled and fired a shot at his enemy. One missed Gregor who dodged out of the way, but the other one grazed his retreating limb. But a single scrape wasn’t enough to even make the Mountain grimace. 

“I kill many people with or without the Sheriff’s command. What makes you think she was any special?” The Mountain sneered and spit at the ground beside the stranger. 

“Tywin Lannister gave the order to murder and raped her and you will confess to every person here who is loyal to the pack of lions!” 

At his words the Mountain cocked his shotgun once more and The Red Viper dodged once more as he leapt onto a nearby table. Using his own momentum he turned and fired two more shots at the giant both embedding themselves into his right bicep. This time a groan emanated throughout the bar as a thick trail of blood streamed down the curves of his arm before dripping onto the floor. 

The Mountain snarled, flashing his teeth at his opponent and went to shoot him again when an empty click. The Red Viper took the opportunity to shoot again burying the remaining two bullets this time in his left leg. Gregor stumbled and landed on his knees. 

“What did you do?!” He screamed unfamiliar with the feeling of his life draining out of him. 

“Besides shooting you five times, I laced the bullets with poison,” He answered as he swaggered forward. Out from the creases of his pants he pulled his faithful dagger. “I wouldn’t try anything.” He tipped the knife under his chin forcing him to meet his gaze. 

“Now confess your crimes.” The stranger growled down at his enemy pressing the tip enough into his skin for a dribble of blood to bubble up. 

The Mountain sneered at his face. “Fine, yes I killed your sister and her children. And you know what? I enjoyed every second.” He spit a wad of spit up at the outlaw, landing on his fine clothing. 

With a yell as loud as a thundercrack, The Red Viper grabbed the Mountain’s damp hair tugging it violently to show the crowd. “Everyone will bear witness to the man who avenges his family against the Lannisters.” He screamed, his voice booming in the closed environment. With surgical precision he sliced the blade across his vein sending waves of crimson blood pouring down his shirt soaking the material with his life force. The multiple gunshot wounds had made his opponent unable to resist. The gurgles slowed as The Red Viper watched as his sister’s murderer’s soul left his body leaving his eyes and finally stilled. 

The bar was silent for several ticks before all hell broke loose. People tore the outlaw away from his body and immediately arrested him, keeping him pinned until the authorities arrived. But he didn’t resist. He had finished what the Lannister’s had started. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So that’s why you were so calm. You completed your quest,” You concluded in a whisper not taking your eyes off of his tear stained cheeks. Unsurely you reached up and cupped his damp cheek with your soft palm. The Red Viper sighed and nuzzled into your touch. The weight of his story now shared between two instead of his own conscience. 

“Elia and her children can rest easy now knowing they have been avenged,” He said as he gazed into your eyes. 

Your heart pulled out his look. Your souls have now mingled when you realized how badly the world had treated both of you, and the pull toward him was greater than any consequences that might come of this reunion. 

Together you kissed with reckless abandon and yet a gentleness that you had never experienced before. The feeling of wanting every inch of this man you had come to care for in a matter of days and yet wanted to take as much time as you could before they called him to hang. 

The unfortunate need to breathe in oxygen pulled you aparted but you stayed close. “What’s your name stranger?” You whispered against his chapped lips. 

“Oberyn.” He replied gently, nudging your cheek with his nose. 

You pulled him in by his dirtied shirt and desperately kissed him again. Lips grazed his stubble cheeks and you whispered your name into the shell of his ear. 

A shutter surged through Oberyn. “My little dove, such a stunning name.” 

Your soft hands gently cup his thick neck, your thumb gently caressing his Adam's apple which bobbed as he swallowed, taking in your touch. Carefully you brought your lips to his once again kissing him with both fierceness and tenderness. You etched every feeling into every inch of your brain, willing yourself to keep him in your thoughts forever. 

You ached to stay by his side wishing you could touch him, caressing him like his damaged soul needed. But noises from outside cause you to whip your head away from Oberyn. 

“Go get to safety,” Oberyn whispered, stealing one last kiss from your lips.

“I’ll come back tomorrow” You promised as you took your time letting him go. With one final glance you hurried out of the cells and escaped before you could get caught. 

That night you couldn’t sleep, the vivid story replayed on an endless cycle in your mind. With each replay your soul burned hotter with hatred for the name that was forced upon you. You were not a Lannister, you were your mother’s child, and this miraculous stranger revealed to you that you could change your own fate. 

With a renewed vigor you quietly gathered your most essential items into a small pouch. You would save Oberyn and take him away from this place, away to a place where the Lannister’s influence hadn’t spoiled. The night passed as you worked away devising a plan. Just as the light filtered in your bed just like it did yesterday before you knew Oberyn’s story and the months and years spent under the glaring eyes of your “family,” you were ready for your plan. 

You tiptoed down the stairs past an empty table and hurried down the familiar path. Though when you passed the town square you noticed a crowd was forming. Peaking around the corner of the alley, what you saw sent your heart plumpting. The familiar gleam of that fabric that you had become quite intimate in knowing was standing on the crudely made structure. There your Oberyn stood atop the gallows staring out at the jeering crowd. 

Without a second thought you rushed to stand in the crowd. You had to get to him. You pushed and shoved trying to get to the structure but just like the world was cruel to Oberyn, the Fates decided to turn that cruelty to you. No one would budge and break. You would have to witness from afar as his neck snapped on the rope of death. 

Bitter tears stung your eyes as the executioner read out his last rights. Oberyn was tense and silent as his eyes scanned the crowd in search of something. Your eyes met his, and his shoulders relaxed. Just like that day at the trial, resolve was etched on his tired face. 

The hanging rope was slung over Oberyn’s neck with a roughness only hatred could bring.  “Does the felon have any last words?” 

Oberyn took a deep breath and without taking his eyes off of yours. “All you may hate me for my actions,” a loud boo emanated from the crowd. He raised his voice to be heard over the yells. “But I will never forget one of you,” He started and raised his palms to the crowd, “I’ve engraved your name on the palms of my hands.” A sob escaped your lips as you read the scabbed markings on his worn hands. There in bloody letters read your name. He would take your name to the grave with you and your heart clenched. 

The crowd jeered louder at him, finding his stunt to be another cruel jab at the Lannister name, but for you it meant the sad reality that a man who you had known for only a few days would take you to his grave. Your memory of your kindness would keep his soul company as the angel ascended him to his afterlife. 

The executioner spit by Oberyn’s feet a wad of shame at the crimes this man had committed. “‘Nough out of you murderer,” He sneered as he tied the wounded hands violently behind Oberyn’s back. 

But Oberyn didn’t react, didn’t say anything in his defense. He kept his eyes on you, and as the executioner marched to the lever that would take your man from this world, Oberyn smiled softly and mouthed something that would stay with you for the rest of your life, “I love you,” as the lever was pulled. You closed your eyes as his body fell through the floor and a crack boomed across the crowd. 

Sobs racked your body as the people around you cheered. Everyone could rest easy as the Red Viper was finally slain. But safety wouldn’t come to you not when your family still ruled this town. So with the cover of the cheering crowds, you darted away from the people carrying your meager belongings. You ran. It didn’t matter what direction. It didn’t matter where you were going. You were going to run until the Lannister name was just a last name, and not a name that brought blood and sorrow to everyone around it. Until then your legs didn’t stop moving as the wide vance of the country spread out before you. 

Your legs collapse from beneath you and your breath heaves. It was now when your emotions caught up with you. There on your knees in the middle of the wilderness did you finally throw back your head and wail like a wild animal letting out the sorrows of its ancestors, and yet the birds still chirped and the world spun as if the life of Oberyn didn’t matter to anyone else but you.

```````

All Works Taglist

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[fishhawish]

Can I have a yandere Miss Circle and Mr Demi x Fem reader?

I seriously have like 5 almost finished requests and the writing block hit me so hard because the only thing I wanna write about is FPE rn

Anyways

Remember that it is not okay to act like this in real life and if you do feel this way I'd advise you to get professional help.

Miss Circle❤️

• She's already murderous as is. Now she's obsessed with her co-worker and murderous? That's wonderful.

• She wouldn't dare let You catch her harming a student for a failing grade. She needs to always look innocent in front of you.

• She always tries to eat lunch with you if possible, and she packs some of the weirdest lunches too.

• She gets upset when you call her demon horns a cat ears, but she doesn't show it and just giggles.

• Her confidence can get overwhelming, she'll leave notes for you on your door asking for a date with something like "You're pretty >:3" and stuff.

• Occasionally she tries to pack you lunches but her own lunches are questionable so sometimes you have to pretend to like it.

• She can canonically change her height at any time and usually remains at 9'7, but she's used her ability to change in order to spy on you.

• She probably has atleast one picture of you guys together from a teacher meeting or something

Confession

You turn around to see someone approach you in the teachers lounge while you're getting water. "Hello there, I was questioning about something." She says confidently. However after getting to know her, you could see she was slightly nervous. "Yes miss circle?" You look at her smiling politely. The faint blush creeping onto her face as she tells you how much she admires you and that she adores you. "I've never felt such emotions. I never thought I'd say this to someone like you, but will You go out with me?"

Acceptance

You look at her smiling, heart feeling like it's going to burst out of your chest at any moment. "Yes, I will." You say to her somewhat flustered. The 9'7 demon lady giggling in excitement, happy beyond what words could ever explain. "Let's meet up tonight at 7pm after school" she said before running out of the teachers lounge with her inhumane speed. Later that night she meets you at your house, dressed neatly for the occasion. The simple yet beautiful picnic in the sunset was definitely something she'd always remember forever.

Rejection

"I'm sorry Miss Circle, I don't reciprocate." You said looking away from her. She silently walks out of the room with no hint of any emotion or expression she's feeling right now. When you went home at night you couldn't help but feel like you where being followed. She picks you up from behind, using her compass to keep you stable off of the ground sandwiched between her and her arm. With her other hand she drugs you to sleep. You never had a choice anyway.

★

Mister Demi💚

• So shy when he met you, he tried to hide away to the library. Unfortunately for him you where in front of the teacher lounge exit so he had no escape.

• Fell for You when he watched how caring and compassionate You are with the students. He's seen what some other teachers do and he's not fond of it..

• Wrote a whole song for You on the piano but won't ever show you. He's to scared that you might dislike it or be uninterested.

• He doesn't know what he's feeling and so he panics, like, a lot. He talks to Miss Sasha about it and she tries her best to explain to him that he's having a crush but it just makes him panic more.

• A crush soon turns into infatuation and he's too deep in. He starts panicking immediately noticing that this isn't healthy. He's seen normal couples and none of them act the way he wants to act.

• Also cries to Miss Sasha about the unhealthy infatuation but she's ends up more concerned about his mental over his feelings.

• Gets urged by Miss Sasha to seek professional help so he gets therapy (which he's terrified about) but the feelings don't stop.

• Literally acts like a fan girl after you talk to him or even breathe the same air as him.

Confession

Miss Sasha walking up to you during lunch with second hand embarrassment, note neatly tucked away into the pocket of her shorts. She politely starts up some small talk with you before getting to the point. "Sorry to bother you but, Mister Demi has feelings for you. He sent me over with a note to give to you." She smiles at you handing over the note. The note says "I really like being around you, you're so pretty. Please like me back. I'm sorry"

Acceptance

"Miss Sasha, please tell him I feel the same." You say to her giggling. She's so excited to watch your and his new relationship blossom. Sasha does however tell you about the obsessive behavior and that he is getting professional help for it. Although you are very keen on staying with him to help him though it. She's so proud of both of you, and herself for being the amazing wing woman she totally is. She goes back to Mister Demi who's sitting across the lunchroom. When he hears the news he is joyus. But he also slams his head down to the table in embarrassment. He's really shy but gathers enough courage from Sasha cheering him on and you both exchange numbers.

Rejection

"I'm sorry Miss Sasha, I don't believe I know Mister Demi well enough to form an opinion or feelings." She smiles and nods understandingly. However she whispers to you about the obsessive behavior and warns you about it. You're absolutely shocked. Glancing over to him immediately feeling uncomfortable. Sasha returning to Mister Demi with the news and handing him back the note. His whole world falls apart in front of everyone. He can't handle rejection well. He goes into a depressive and desperate state. Changing everything about him so that you'll love him. Eventually you don't even recognize him anymore until you realized how shy he is.

[ultra-raging-ghost]

I reached post limit so im gonna write this and save it for midnight to post later 🥰

-10:30 EST

Richas made a reference/mentioned outliving forever and bad started screaming and sobbing for a solid 2 minutes and then started talking about how no no forevers probably fine cucuruchos probably taking care of him, richas asked if thats what bad tells himself to sleep at night, if he just lies to himself and bad said yes! if all else fails, simply lie to yourself and push your true feelings down to make it through this meaningless existence :D and richas said "so if we said the sky is pink at all times a day and just lie to ourselves its ok?" and bad said yes, we already lie to ourselves all the time we just need to think about how much lying we accept :3

richas thinks dappers colorblind

bad said his chats british 😭

time to read books!

-10:40 EST

bad is making fun of us for being sad because of angst(/lh/j) and sang a brief song about us being sad and mentioned "the sun is gone" just to torment us over forever being gone. He also went f5 said something like “if you think it’s sad now… anyway..... spoilers!!" implying it will get even sadder!! (terrified)

oh theres a letter for bbh and forever :((( this might be sad now that forevers. in his place. chats crying

-10:50 EST

Bad is screaming and crying because forever will never be able to read his letter, hes literally head in hands screaming and crying and hes letting the TTS read it out

one of the qsmp purgatory programmers wrote bad a letter saying he was supposed to die more and bad said hes a bug tester at heart and richas is bullying bad because of how many bugs he found and exploited LMAO bad said he'll fudging do it again

-11:00 EST

bad found ANOTHER wall bug to glitch thru, hes insane

-11:10 EST

someone said the word forever and bad is reduced to shambles on the floor, hes crying and whining forevers name in tears and agony and he made the dying "bleh" sound like 4 times

also bad mentioned that as soon as its confirmed to the characters like in-character that max is dead theyre having a funeral for him, like bad as the grim reaper knows but he hasnt told anyone, nobodys aware of him being gone, >>>>also he was ominous and said he needed to shoot max a message oorp and refused to elaborate. what the fuck was that about badboyhalo? <<<<<

-11:30 EST

Bad and richas and pomme wanna make an elevator death trap and then call foolish over to trap/murder him <3 chat is advocating for this idea. chat also wants to see the museum, bad said yes!!! Museum time!

before that, bad is being ominously silent again and is texting off screen. that max comment earlier + this makes me worried. MOVING ON THO BC HES SINGING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO RICHAS AND POMME GOT HIM A PRESENT FOR HIS BDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY RICHAS!!!!! (in brazil time) The present is Honey cookies! because richas got covered in honey and used as bait while they were away LMAO

Bad was talking about the 1k snow golems prank and was wondering if the cleanup team would be upset or love that, and richas said "lets say im part of that tio" and bad is now saying richas will take 100% accountability for that and will clean all of it up by himself LMAOOOO richas placed down signs saying "NO TIO I NEVER SAID THAT!! I DIDNT" and bad read them out loud as "Yes tio i agree i did say that ill do it!"

oh god bads spamming richas signs everywhere this is gonna fucking lag everything LMAOOOO richas crashed and bad kept placing until he got bored and said "yessssss richas will get in so much trouble hahaha! messing with the server!!!! bad then said "Richas always comes back" in the FNAF voice, didnt need to know you were an even bigger nerd BBH but okay /aff

-11:40 EST

Pomme is dragging bbh around on a lasso and is trapping him somewhere <3333 theyre climbing up the big ben and bad is taking SO MUCH DAMAGE he has his auto eat on

he accidentally said the word "forever" again and started crying again, his chat is in shambles.

MUSEUM TIME!!!!!!

HELP THE FUCKING ADMINS INCLUDED A DRAWING OF BAD LITERALLY STUCK IN A PADDED ROOM BASED ON HIS TIME IN JAIL, RICHAS SAID "natural habitat"

>>>>>>bad's crying again, and being horny because of how "cute" forever looks in the fanart, but mostly crying<<<<<

pomme started bullying bad because he called forever cute LMAO

tinas on!!!!!

-11:50 EST

Bad's crying again over art of him and forever in the pool he made in forevers base, the admins want to hurt him specifically/j

"treasure the wholesome moments chat, for they are just dust in the wind" -BBH 2023

bad took his totems out of his offhand again :)

Bad's crying again over another image of him and forever!!

[lis-likes-fics]

Rhyme and Reason

Pairings: Corinthian x dream!Reader Word Count: 8.7k words Prompt: Corruption Kink Warnings: NSFW, explicit descriptions of death/murder, torture, descriptions of blood, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), slight hair pulling, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, corruption kink, creampie, fucking in front of a dead body... A/N: There are only two left, guys! I might be able to do this! This took a minute to write cause ADHD is a bitch. But I finished and I hope you like it! Thank you and Happy Holidays!

The little party you find yourself in is just that, little. It takes place in a bar rented out by the set of hosts, a get together with maybe a little over twenty party-goers.

It took so long to find him.

When your lord Morpheus disappeared some fifty years ago, you and the rest of the Dreaming were left…confused. You thought that maybe it was a test? He wanted to see how loyal his creations really were to him, their king. Would they revolt the moment he no longer gave orders?

But, after the first two decades, you concluded that he was just…gone. And you, among many dreams, left as well.

You spent the next twenty years in the Waking world, searching the world aimlessly for something to inspire you.

When Dream still resided in his realm, you would sing for him. He dreamed up a dream of music and song and you became. He loved your songs, he was inspired by the music you made.

When you sat in Fiddler’s Green, you would sing about the butterflies fluttering through the breeze or the bees in their honeycombs. When you sat by the sandy beach, you would sing about the lap of the tides against the mouth of the sea. When you looked up at the skies, you would sing about the sun and moon, how they loved each other so.

On some nights where you danced in the heads of your mortal lords, he would be there, in the seat in the back, listening to you soothe the minds of frightened children or ease the thoughts of anguished men.

Morpheus loved your sweet music, your heavenly song. You reminded him of someone, someone he loved very much.

Much he knew nothing of how you longed for more than your kindly poetry and prose. You loved the gift he bestowed upon you, but you grew weary of your melodies of dancing birds and sugar cane.

He knew nothing of the way you gazed at the dark and twisted dreams that walked his realm, the way they strut, the way they smirk, the way they spin their fables and tricks and white lies. You wished you could sing in deviant keys, tales of wicked fantasies and depraved beasts.

How you longed for the voice of a siren, rather than the whistle of a songbird.

So you looked for inspiration. And you found it.

The humans were a new kind of nightmare. Yes, they had so much love and light and whatnot, but the depravity. The debauchery and sin you found among their kind, it was more than you could have dreamed of.

You didn't just want to sing their songs, you wanted to create them. You wanted to write your verses as they wrote theirs. You wanted to sing your tales and inspire the rest in the same way your sweet lyrics did.

But you didn't know how. You searched all over for someone to teach you, to show you how to take their sullied natures and adopt them into your own poesy.

Soon you realized that no man could teach you how to sing. You'd almost given up your pursuits of fulfillment until you heard of him; a dream you'd never met but had heard of so many times before in the sleeping realm, a nightmare so infamous and so curiously revered by your former lord. You'd heard it through the mouths of chattering men, then read it in the paper. A “man” whose deeds were so reminiscent of the devil, everyone had to know his name, to know who to protect themselves against.

The Corinthian.

He captured men and took their eyes. He made them see all the wonders of the world. And you wanted to sing them.

It took so long to find him.

You seduced and bribed and begged your way through every little turn in order to get to him. And now you're here with a drink in your hand and so many inspirations surrounding you in this little bar.

And he is beautiful.

It's things like him that inspire you to sing. He’s charming and tall and the sight of him, his dark glasses—which hold more truth than eyes could ever tell—frame his face as the golden rim adores his golden hair. You catch yourself staring too often, so enamored and enchanted by the symphony that he is.

But he'd noticed you too, in the moments where your eyes don't find his. Of course he had. He knows exactly who you are, the music of the Dreaming. He hears it in every little breath you take, the gentle lilt of your voice. You were spoken of with as much regard as he was, though in the more virtuous way rather than in the way of his own notoriety.

What an odd little creature. He'd heard so much about you, how sweet and gentle you were. How Dream would sit for hours and listen to you sing in the meadow. And here you were, surrounded by the darkest of creatures, unbothered but so curious.

How nice you would be to…play with for a while.

“Well, hello there.”

His voice seeps into your skin and has goosebumps rising along your body. You turn and look up at the Corinthian like he was a sight to behold. Your eyes are slightly widened with wonder, and you look like you'll get to your knees and begin praising him at any moment, as though he is some great saint.

“Oh,” you breathe, trying and failing to be subtle. “Hi.”

He leans his elbow on the bar, looking you up and down through the dark of his glasses. “What's your name, little thing?”

You scramble to organize your thoughts once more. He's scrambled them with just the sound of his voice. “Uhm,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you offer him your name.

He chuckles lightly, his charming smile curling over his lips as he shakes his head. “No, hah,” he mutters, “I meant your alias.” He turns a little as he motions to the people in the room, dark souls able to be free in the little space of this bar. “Everyone here has an alias. What's yours?”

“Mine?” You clear your throat. “Oh…” You hadn't thought about that. You rub your palm against your thigh, smoothing your dress over your legs nervously.

He thinks you're precious. He turns with a chuckle, looking around the room before gesturing with his head toward two men talking amongst themselves.

“You see him over there? On the right?” he asks. You nod, staring at the man as the Corinthian speaks. “That's the Extinguisher. He's a pyromaniac. He traps his victims in their own homes and covers them in gasoline. Burns it to the ground, starting with them.” The way he speaks is like music, and you get lost in it.

He stares at the wonder on your face, his lips twitching into a curious grin. “Him, there? He goes by the Boa Constrictor. Like the snake. He ties up his victims real nice and tight until their skin turns purple and numb. Then he…” he breathes a little laugh, “...ties a rope ‘round their necks and keeps it there…nice and tight, until they stop squirmin’.”

He expects you to pale, to see the fear light up in your little eyes. But you don't. You stare, hypnotized by his voice and his words.

“Wow,” you whisper. “What about her?”

He smiles wide, looking at the woman in question. “Oh, her?” He licks his bottom lip. “She comes in a pair, only the public doesn't know that. Actually, they think it's a man. She and her friend over there are known as the Tailor, but they call themselves the Seamstresses. You see, it's easier to be taken seriously as a man in this age, otherwise no one would bat an eye at their art.”

Your eyes twinkle with wonder. He doesn't think you realize it when you grab his arm, clutching it as you continue to listen, watching the two ladies talk. He leans nearer to you, speaking gently into your ear.

“They slice the limbs off their victims, nice and clean cuts, and stitch them back together after they've already bled out.” He tilts his head. “They're actually quite sweet.”

You sigh, almost like you're in a dream. “Woah.”

He turns his body back to you, and you realize your hand grasping him. You let him go, offering an apology through a small smile as you looked up at him. He watches it fade, the wonder returning as you take him in.

“If I had to guess who you were…” he says quietly, his voice a whisper as his eyes wander your face, “I'd say you were the Whisperer.”

You tilt your head, watching every little shift in his face as he speaks. He smirks, “Am I right?” You blink at him, moving to speak but unable to find the words. “The artist who sews the mouths of her victims shut so they can't speak,” he seems to lean in further, his voice getting softer and softer as your eyelids flutter. “Sings a little song to them as she…slits their throats wide open.”

You sigh, nearly folding under the weight of his gaze. You nod gently. “Y-yeah,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “Yes, that's me.”

He smiles wide, leaning back to release you from the spell. You let out a breath at the distance, seeming to come back to yourself. “I admire your work,” he says. “That job you did up in Malibu was just…beautiful.”

You don't know where that is, but apparently this Whisperer did. You nod, “Thanks. Thank you.”

“In fact,” the tips of his fingers brushed your hand, turning it to hold in his palm, “I would love a demonstration. Up close and personal.”

You bring your other hand to graze the side of his palm. “Would you mind giving me the honor of witnessing it firsthand?”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. Firsthand… “Uh, I don't have…thread on me.”

He shrugs. “Well, I'm sure the Seamstresses wouldn't mind lending their tools. If we ask nicely anyway.”

“Well–”

“Come on,” he chuckles. “Just…one little show?” He shows a finger, grinning his charming grin.

So pliant to his word, you give in. “Okay.”

The proud grin he displays is wide and triumphant. “Well,” he says, “thank you very much.”

~

The Corinthian opens your door as you step out of the car, looking out over the large building lit up from the inside and crawling with people. He offers his hand, which you take gratefully as your stomach turns, anxiety and anticipation sharp in your gut. He gives you another charming smile.

You both walk inside, taking in the nightclub still in full swing. It's a Friday night, so there are plenty of people here looking to let loose after a long work day.

There's a small band on stage playing upbeat jazz, a singer performing for an enthused crowd. You know this song, you know every song.

The Corinthian’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to him as he seems to glare at the bodies mingling with one another. It's possessive, like he'll cut the eyes out of anyone who so much as glances the wrong way at you. You lean into him.

He leans down to your ear, his smile returning as he speaks gently. “Who here sparks your interest?” he asks. “Who fits the bill?”

You look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“A target.” He looks around the club, as though he's searching for someone who sparks his own interest. “Most artists have a pattern among their chosen…” he makes a gesture with his hand, trying to find the right word, “canvases.”

You like the way he speaks. It's poetic.

You lick your lips. “What's your pattern?”

“Oh, me?” He shrugs, looking over the crowd again. “I don't follow anything specific.” Tilting his head, he hums, “I suppose I do have a bit of male preference… but I'm not picky.”

“Ah,” you mutter.

“Well?” he wondered. “Anyone?”

You look around at all the people, dancing and sweating and talking. Eventually, your eyes land on a man. He's tall and lean, with black hair messy from dancing.

He reminds you of someone.

“Him.”

The Corinthian’s gaze finds the object of yours. A grin curls devilishly over his lips.

“Very nice.”

“So…” you look up at him, “What do I do?”

The urge to play with you is strong, like it's embedded in the tissue of his being. “You don't know?”

You nod quickly, trying to figure out what to say. You're supposed to be a professional.

“Well, uh, yeah, of course I know,” you clear your throat. “B-But what do you think I should do?”

He chuckles, turning you to face him as his hands cup your waist. He leans in, moving slowly as his lips brush your ear. He lowers his voice to a deep hum. “I always find that seduction works wonders.”

You nod gently as he pulls aways. His black shades stare into your eyes, dark and compelling. “Alright.”

He chuckles, jutting his chin out toward the man, your canvas. “Go on,” he bids. “Take him to the hotel a few blocks down. I'll be waiting for you there.”

Again, you nod. He knows best.

“Okay.”

He grazes his knuckles along your cheek, granting you one last grin before turning and leaving you to your own devices. You would be fine.

You turn toward the dark-haired man, taking in a deep breath before setting a small smile upon your lips. You begin walking over to him, sinking into the music to blend in with the crowd. Even as your hips sway and your face shifts into something more sultry, your hands tremble as the anxiety slips into your skin.

Stepping up behind him, you get his attention by placing a palm on his slim waist. He glances down at your hand and follows it up your wrist, your arm, your shoulder, up to your pretty face as his own smile spreads across his pink lips. “Hello,” you smile gently, leaning forward just enough to tilt your head back to look up at him.

He turns, enjoying the way your hands shift to stay at his sides, your thumbs feeling over the fabric of his shirt. He’s handsome, easily falling victim to your own charm as he lets you seduce him. His smile widens, though he doesn’t look predatory, like a lot of men you’ve come across among the years. He’s charming.

“Well, hello there.” He looks you up and down, and you take in the sight of his pale blue eyes as he does.

You just keep smiling, and it’s all you have to do for him to fall further and further for your charm. “Hi,” you lick your bottom lip.

Considerate of you, he places his hand on your shoulder and brushes it down your arm slowly until he slips it into your hand, holding one of them and setting his other hand onto your own waist. Yours eased to his shoulder, and soon you were holding one another as you danced on a slow tempo to the quick rhythmed music.

“How's a pretty girl like you doing on a night like this, hm?” he wonders, his voice warm and just as smiling as his lips.

You shrug a shoulder as though you're shy. “I'm doing alright,” you chuckle lightly, breathily. “Are you having fun?”

He hums. “Now that you're here? So much fun.” He watched you appreciatively, biting his lower lip and sighing. “You lookin’ to play with little ole me?”

You tilt your head gently. “Do you like to play?”

“Doll,” he chuckles, “I love to play.”

You giggle softly, and you watch him seem to almost melt at the sound of it. “You wanna play with me?” you lean in a little closer.

“Do I?”

You stand on your tiptoes so your lips brush his ear as you whisper, your words light and airy. “Why don't we go somewhere more private so we can…play?”

He sighs longingly. “Oh, I love the sound of that.”

You smile wide, pulling away from him as you keep your hands firmly clasped. “Well, come on then,” you say as you pull him gently toward the door. He walks with you, joining your side and exiting the club with you on his arm.

As you're walking out, his lead taking you in the direction of his car, you find yourself humming the song that had been playing inside under your breath. His gaze turns to you and he finds himself even further under your enchantment.

What a wonder you are… An angel from heaven.

He helps you into his car, shutting your door and rounding to the other side as he takes his seat as the driver. “So where are we going?” he asks, looking at you with anticipation seeping through every pore.

You smile, and he swears you speak like a melody as you say, “I've got a room down at the hotel.” You bring a hand to your face as you rest your fingers just under your chin. “We shouldn't be interrupted there.”

He grins. “Whatever you say, doll.”

~

He's been so sweet, much closer on the sweeter side of the men you've met since you first came to the mortal plane. Graham, he said his name was.

You nearly felt bad about what was going to happen to Graham…but you wouldn't be putting him to waste. No, you would be honoring him. He would inspire your songs, he would give life to them. That was an honor you felt befit him, an honor he deserved.

The hotel comes into view, and your stomach flips. Graham parks, opens your door like a gentleman, and then offers his hand as the both of you enter the building. You glance around as you walk, wondering what you're supposed to do now. He just said to meet him here…

You walk, tucked into his side as you try not to aimlessly wander. He stays close to you, almost dutifully, and you don't notice the way he gazes at your face.

You look up at him, an innocent—almost naïve—glow to your eyes that makes his smile grow. “You're beautiful, you know that?”

You hum lightly, smiling gently. Your gaze wanders from his and falls upon a conference room door, the window on the door reflecting something off its surface.

Your eyes catch on the silhouette of such a familiar man. You walk over, pulling Graham with you as you push the door open.

“Thought we were going up to your room, doll?” he wonders. You pull him into the dark conference room, glancing around for your new mentor and finding nothing but shadows.

You turn back to Graham, thinking on your feet as you give him a smile. “I…just couldn't wait that long,” you chuckle lightly. You step forward, your hands on his chest.

He smiles, pushing the door closed behind him with his foot and turning the lock as he looks down at you with a smile. “Sounds good to me,” he grins.

He holds your body close, wrapping you up in his arms. Your smile falls as he leans in closer, and when his lips brush yours, you can't help but push him away with the gentle push of your fingertips.

He seems concerned as he takes you in, holding his hands up enough to show he isn't going to hurt you. “What's the matter?”

In the corner of your eyes, you catch a shadow. Your gaze lands on the Corinthian, hidden in the dark space behind Graham with a finger held up to his curling lips, and your breath hitches in a small gasp.

You watch him silently, watching as his hands gesture toward the both of you. He just nods, urging you on.

You look back at Graham, his eyes still just as concerned as before. You remember to smile, stepping back toward him as you slowly set your hands on his shoulders. “Nothing,” you whisper. You kiss him, and he takes a moment to allow you space before his hands fall to your waist again. His lips are soft, comforting.

Tilting your head, your eyes creak open to see the Corinthian again. He smiles reassuringly, lifting his hand to cover his eyes. After receiving your confused look, he just gives another encouraging gesture. You figure, he knows best.

Pulling away again, you keep your hands on his shoulders. Graham opens his eyes, watching you smile up at him. “Close your eyes?” you ask gently.

He chuckles, amused, “Why?”

You bat your lashes, a subtle but rapid blink that makes him pliant to you. “Trust me?” Your voice is gentle and small, a whisper he has nor reason to doubt.

He just sighs and laughs, shaking his head as he brings hand to cover his eyes, peeking at you teasingly before hiding behind his palm again. You look to the Corinthian for more instruction.

He raises his finger to tap his throat. You watch his other hand come up, balling into a tight fist. He punches his palm soundlessly. And you understand.

You place your gaze upon Graham once more. His pretty face, his messy black hair, his pink lips, his closed eyes hiding pale blue rings around his pupils. You clench your fist, feeling the tightness in your fingers, the strain of the skin over your knuckles.

You take in a deep bracing breath, and he's still waiting patiently for you. Patient, gentle, good.

And you strike him hard in his throat, your fist colliding with his Adam’s apple as his eyes bulge from his skull. He tries to gasp at the sudden impact, the sound barely coming out in a painful wheeze as he raises his hands to his throat.

He looks at you, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His mouth is open wide as he gapes, trying so hard to speak, to breathe, to figure out why.

You hadn't even realized it when the Corinthian moved, his hands landing heavily over Graham’s shoulders as he wheezes and gasps, making the most dreadful sounds in an attempt to breathe.

“Hello, there,” he grins, Graham’s eyes finding him and bulging. When did he get there?

His gaping mouth tries to form a word, and the Corinthian tilts his head to hear it before chuckling lightly. “Don't try to speak. You'll find it hurts more.”

He pulls a chair from the large conference table and sits him roughly down onto it. Graham doesn't try to bolt, the door is locked and he isn't confident in his ability to get out of here with the Corinthian as your apparent partner. He tries to speak, to negotiate, but he can't get any sound past senseless croaks.

The Corinthian joins your side, wrapping an arm possessively around your waist as you stare at the man you'd doomed. Doomed. That's a nice word.

He opens up his jacket, reaching in an inside pocket as he pulls out the silver needle and red thread he'd procured from the Seamstresses.

“Now, beautiful,” he says, handing it over to you, “why don't you take this while I help you out a little?” You look at the tools he offers, blink a couple of times before picking it up.

His crooked finger brushes under your chin before he turns away toward your friend again. He rounds to another chair, which he pulls from its spot tucked at the table, a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before sitting in the seat. In the bag is rope, strong rope he uses to tie Graham to the chair as he kneels behind him.

You glance at the needle. “What do I do with it?”

He looks up at you as he wraps the rope around the back of the chair and his chest and ignores Graham’s struggles. He says it like it's obvious. “You'll sew his mouth shut.”

Graham struggles against the rope, but to no avail. The Corinthian makes a tight knot, looking at him with a warning in his tone. “I suggest you be nice and good for her or…” he smiles, his hands on his shoulders as his lips brush the shell of his ear, “I'll just have to intervene. And you don't want that.”

Graham goes completely still, sweating and crying now. The tears roll down his cheeks and he gives you a desperate look.

You realize your hands are shaking, like the first time you even stepped foot toward him.

“I…” you mutter, staring at the needle.

The Corinthian’s smile remains unchanged, encouraging. “Come on,” he says as he stands, walking over toward you once more. “Don't be shy.”

The anxiety curls in your stomach, shakes in your hands. You take a step back, turning to him timidly as you don't meet his eyes. “I'm… I'm not her,” you say, struggling to get the words out as the nerves eat away at you. “I lied… I'm not the Whisperer. I'm just…some dream… I'm just a dream.”

He laughs, and you watch him as the confusion sinks into the features of your face. Graham is out of both your minds as you stare at him.

“Well, I know that.” He chuckles, stepping into your space as he grabs your free hand, cradling it in his palm. “But you're not just any dream, are you? You're Aria. One of Morpheus’ special dreams, his little song.”

Irritation rises in your belly and you shake your head, stepping back and letting go of his hand. “I'm not Aria,” you bite. “Not anymore. I hate that name.”

He raises a brow. “Do you now?” His smirk is devilish. “Who are you then?”

You stare at him, offering the name you'd take thirty years ago when you left the Dreaming for the first time, your new name with its new rhythm and rhyme. The Corinthian repeats it back to you, tasting it on his tongue like honey.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, another step taking you away from him. “But I'm not the Whisperer.”

He shrugs. “‘Course you're not. I made her up.” You watch him, surprise in every crevice of your face. He reaches out and takes your hands, pulling you close again as he watches you, the look I'm his eyes almost predatory as he lowers his voice for you to hear. His words seep into your skin.

“But you want to be, don't you?” He smiles, “I can see it in your eyes, you wanna be more than Dream's ‘little song’, don't ya?”

Graham watches, feeling his vocal chords easing in the slightest bit. He still can't speak, can't scream, can't get any sound out but a whisper so quiet, he still can't be heard.

“You want to be something not so sweet,” he continues. “You wanna sing something other than Kumbaya, holding hands with your neighbors and bein’ all nice and happy.”

Your lip twitches at the mention of that song, a campfire song that felt like a pinnacle of your distaste for the music you've been forced to sing. “I hate Kumbaya,” you mumble.

He chuckles. “Don't we all?” He brushes his knuckles along your cheekbone, smoothing down to rest underneath your chin. “You can be so much more than that. I know it. You can leave behind all that sweetness, and become like me. Remake yourself in your own image.”

He raises your hand, still cupping the needle and thread in your palm. “All you have to do…” he gently pushes your palm toward your body, separating each word as he does, “...is take the needle.”

He takes a step back, giving you space to think.

You look down at your palm, contemplating. This is it. This is your chance to become more than a little songbird. You could become better. You could fulfill your own hopes and dreams and become a better version of you.

Your fingers curl over your palm.

Your eyes turn on Graham, and fear flashes across his face. You take the first step toward him, then another, and he begins to squirm in his chair as you do. The Corinthian tuts, walking toward him as he places his hands on his shoulders to keep him down, still.

He smiles, a dark and wicked smile. “There you go,” he encourages. “Do it. Become more than that sweet little dream. Do what you want to do, not what you were made to.”

You take the string of thread and punch it between your thumb and forefinger, stilling your breath completely as your slightly shaky hands work to thread the needle. It takes a moment for you to get it through the eye, letting out a relieved sigh when you do.

Graham keeps squirming, despite the uselessness. You stand in front of him. “Take a seat,” the Corinthian says. “It'll be easier.”

You set your free hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself onto his lap as you straddle him. His mouth forms a word, the slightest whisper tearing painfully from his throat as it did. Please. Please. Please.

He casts a desperate, pleasing gaze upon you, his life in your hands—the hands of the beautiful siren who had forsaken him. You watch him with an unwavering gaze, the anxiety and anticipation curling your brows.

He is so good. So genuinely good. The kind of good that stares at your face and calls you beautiful. The kind that keeps calling you beautiful until you no longer have the capacity not to believe it. He's the kind of good that holds you when you're sad, wipes away your tears when you cry. The kind of good that makes you feel better about living in such a cruel world.

And you want to feel bad about taking his life away, about taking the rhythm of his heartbeat away.

But you can't, and you don't. And honestly, a rage and desperation flares within you as you stare at him. Because he is good. And that's just the problem, isn't it?

For so long, all of your songs have been so good. Songs about dancing birds and twinkling stars and buzzing bees. Songs about hope and love and care and whatever else. And you're sick of it.

You were only drawn to him because he's good.

You need something new, something a little fiercer than the blazing sun in the sky, something a little darker than the moonless night. You need inspiration.

And he could give it to you. The Corinthian would help.

You begin to move your hands toward his face, and Graham desperately tries to move away. You sigh, looking up at the Corinthian. He understands immediately.

Taking Graham’s face in his hands, he holds his head still and his jaw securely closed. He bears his teeth like a frightened animal, breathing quickly as whispers of protest strain in his crushed vocal chords.

You use one hand to hold his lips closed. The Corinthian nods along with you. “Just at the corner. Right there.” You slide your pinched fingers over to the left corner of his lips. “Very good. Now just…push it in…”

You position the needle, holding there for a long time as you internalize taking this step. All you have to do…is push it in.

The needle pierces his flesh, sinking into his skin as he screams silently, held still as a statue by the Corinthian, as though his strength is nothing to him.

The sharp end comes out on the other side of his bottom lip, and you pull it all the way through as the red thread becomes redder with the blood staining it. You pull until you have enough length, tying the end off with steadier hands.

“Very good,” the Corinthian praises. “See? You're a natural.”

He takes in his success, his great triumph. Dream's little song…nothing more now than the outlines of a nightmare waiting to be filled in with a little more color. He almost feels drunk off the sight of you, straddling this man as you continue to pierce him with your needle and sew his lips shut, tight, taking away the one thing you were made to do.

Sing.

Such a sweet little bird you are now, a corrupted and twisted little dream in the hands of a wicked nightmare.

He watches you thread the needle through his flesh as Graham continues to cry and try and try and try to scream, to have someone hear him, save him from the pain and torture. But you're all alone in here, locked inside this room with nothing but the night…

As you focus, you find yourself easing into the task. Pinching and piercing and pulling and repeating. You smile, calm as a melody comes to mind.

You hum it, lower and slower than the original speed. The Corinthian watches, in awe of you as you continue to work. He almost swears the rhythm of Graham’s silent breaths and cries begin to form to the rhythm of your song.

“Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me,” you whisper, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Graham’s nose. “Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.”

You poke the needle through the end of his lip, piercing the far right corner slowly, calmly. “While I'm alone and blue as can be…” You tie the end of the knot, singing a little slower as you do. “Dream a little dream of…me.”

You lean forward and cut the thread with your teeth, taking in the sight of your good work. The Corinthian lets Graham go, and he just sits there, still sobbing, his face wet with tears and blood and sweat.

“Look at that,” the Corinthian admires, laughing deep in his throat as he sets his hands on your shoulders and shakes his head. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him, taking in the sight before you. The Corinthian’s hands fall to your waist, and his head rests at the crook of your neck. Graham’s eyes struggle to stay open, his vision blurry with tears and the adrenaline and pain crashing down and making it hard to find the will to stay conscious.

“Look at all your hard work,” the Corinthian hums, the sound of your song still playing in his mind. “How does it feel?”

You look at him. His dark blood is crimson as it stains his shirt. His messy black hair is only worse now, his pale blue eyes brighter and paler as his pupils grow to the size of a coin.

He looks beautiful, you think.

“Different.”

The tip of his nose brushes underneath your ear. “Do you want to finish it off?”

You nod gently.

The Corinthian fishes a sharp blade from the inside of his jacket. He takes your hand and wraps it around the handle, gripping it tight and helping to guide you.

“Right…” he moves the tip of the blade to press against Graham’s straining neck. He presses it right under his chin, starting from the far right, opposite the needle, “...here.”

“Here?” you ask as he lets go, keeping the blade steady.

He nods. “Right there.”

You lift your other hand to hold the back of his neck steady. Graham watches, terrified. You stare him dead in the eyes, unblinking, unwavering.

You carve the blade into his throat and slice. All the way across, you take your time in slowly slitting his throat. You only blink as the blood sprays out of his sliced arteries and spray all over your face and neck. It keeps spraying and keeps spraying, coming in spurts as he chokes on his blood, gurgling and coughing.

You continue to stare at him, even as you've finished even after he has died and the light has left his eyes and the songs have left his soul. His eyes are bulgy and he's drenched in blood. Butchered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a dark hand reaching out to Graham. You want to turn, to see her take him, to watch as he is swept away in the hands of Death to his afterlife. But you don't. Watching Graham, you see the flickers of hope in his eyes die out as the life leaves him and replaces it with emptiness. A momentary silence is filled with the gentle flap of wings.

The Corinthian comes back to mind as he pulls you back enough to see the whole of your work. He shakes his head in admiration, smiling wide.

“Your first one,” he says.

“My first one.”

“How does it feel?”

His hands on your hips pull you back against his body. You lean into him. “Different.”

He chuckles lightly, one of his hands moving from your waist in favor of sliding up the length of your body to wrap around your throat, resting there as he holds you securely. His other hand slides down your arm and takes the knife from your hand.

“I think you liked it,” he hums in your ear, dropping his knife on the table with a clatter and holding your neck tighter. “Having his life in your hands?”

You swallow thickly, staring at the dripping blood as the crimson on your face dries. “I–”

“Say it,” he cuts you off, his lips right by your ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe. “You loved it. You loved silencing him.”

He feels your shallow breaths beneath his palm. Still dazed, you say, “I–”

“Say it.”

You take in a slow breath, filling your lungs before you admit it, the curling in your stomach gone and replaced by the chills along your skin. “I loved it,” you sigh. “I loved silencing him.”

He smiles triumphantly. “I know you did,” he chuckles. “Now look at you. A new person, a new dream.” His smile widens and his hand tightens. “You're just like me.”

“Just like you.”

“A nightmare.” His lips graze the shell of your ear.

“A nightmare.”

You lean into him with a slight moan when his lips press against your neck, kissing it with insistent lips and insistent teeth. “Just like you,” you whisper, like the repeating lyrics of a song.

“Just like me.”

Your eyes flutter at the way his teeth nip at your flesh. “A nightmare.”

“A nightmare.” He turns you around in his arms, moving you so your back presses against the table. His lips crash down on yours, swallowing you whole as they do. He can taste the blood staining your lips. You melt against him, weak and wanting as his body presses flush against yours. He bends you back against the table, laying you down as his lips trail down to the skin of your neck, kissing and biting and sucking.

“Look at you,” he breathes. “A corrupted little dream.”

Corrupted. You like that word.

“Corinthian,” you moan, bringing your arms up as your hands wrap around the back of his head and keep him close to you.

“My little dream,” he scoffs, his hands gripping your body tightly.

You go to speak, but he cuts you off. He laughs wickedly. “But you're not a dream, are you? And you're not a nightmare.”

“Cor–”

“You're just a little whore, aren't you?” he smirks, riding your shirt up as his hand slips under it. “A little whore who wants to be something else.”

You moan. “A whore.”

His face is inches from yours again as he speaks quietly, his voice low and rough and dangerous. “You thought I wouldn't know what you were when I saw you?” he questions, finding it amusing. “You thought I wouldn't know you were just a dream trying to be something she isn't?”

Your breath has picked up, heavy as your head spins. “I–”

He's not having it. He silences you again, holding your throat still as he makes you look at him, as he makes sure you can't look away. “Let me show you what you are,” he breathes. “Then I'll rebuild you into something you can be.”

Enchanted by him and his words, you breathe deeply. “Show me what I am,” you echo.

He nods, “That's right.”

“What I can be.”

“Good girl,” he praises. He attacks your mouth once more. It's a bruising kiss as he wraps you up in him. His hand grips your neck tightly, constricting your breath a bit as he does. With one hand, he rips your dress from your body and lets it fall to the ground in rags. You gasp as he does it, your body now exposed to the chilly air as you're left in nothing but your undergarments.

He hums deeply as he looks over you. He smiles. “Dream had it right with this body,” he says, running his hand over your skin and listening to the way you moan.

He hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them roughly down your legs to reveal yourself to him. “Look at you,” he breathes as he smooths his hand over your mound. “You're so pretty, aren't you?”

You moan when his long middle finger sinks inside of you, sliding between your damp folds. He's surprised by how wet you are, though he supposes he shouldn't be.

You immediately clamp down around his finger, and he lets out a long sigh. “Such a tight little thing.”

Your legs move to close at the intrusion, not new to the feeling but still not quite used to it either. He just forces them apart, keeping you spread wide for him as he does. “Don't you hide yourself from me,” he says, thrusting a second finger inside of you as you moan at the stretch.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, collecting the gathering wetness as he watches you through his dark glasses, admires the way your body responds to him.

Your hips meet his hands as he keeps touching you, eager to feel more of him as your shallow breaths continue to pass between your lips. When he pulls his hand from you, you whimper at the loss, clenching around nothing in an attempt to feel him again.

You watch as he sets his fingers on his tongue, closing his mouth around them and suckling with a deep hum. He caresses your name with his lips as he looks down at you. “You're delicious, sweetheart,” he says, and your body keens into his touch.

His hand around your throat tightens as he bends down so his face is hardly separated from yours. “I bet you'd just love to feel my mouth on you, hm?”

You nod quickly, “Please.”

He laughs darkly, kissing you roughly and letting his mouth trail down your body—down, down, down until his mouth ghosts over your fluttering pussy.

Your back arches when you feel his hot mouth against you. His tongue laps against your folds and he suckles around you, tasting the sweetness of your nectar. His tongue flattens against you as he begins to lick you up.

His hand loosens around your throat before ultimately letting go to hold your grinding hips down. Your mouth falls open and you give into him, tangling your fingers in his hair and encouraging his mouth against you.

He laps at your pussy like you're the finest wine. He can taste the virtue that pulsed in your veins, and he can taste the darkness beginning to replace it. His tongue delves inside of you, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clit and suckling gently.

The pleasure jolts through your body like a fire, and you’re entirely willing to let it consume you. You want to feel its burning flames lick at your flesh, searing it from bone to turn you to ash and create something new out of the remains.

The Corinthian sinks three fingers into you after a while, pumping them in and out as you enjoy the delicious stretch with closed eyes, moaning and grinding. He looks up at you, looking for your eyes and finding them hooded.

You mewl when he pulls away from you. “No, no, no,” he says. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. You gotta watch me make you mine.”

You do as you're told, opening your eyes and doing your best to keep them that way. He praises you with another “good girl” before he's wrapping his lips around you again.

He enjoys every second immensely, tasting the sweet nectar of your arousal as he coaxes it from you, taking the grinding of your hips every time he curls his fingers or sucks on your clit.

You moan his name as you feel the rise in your stomach tightening with an oncoming pleasure. You clench around his fingers, your clit pulses against his tongue. You've forgotten all about Graham's body slumped in his bindings, you'd forgotten the blood staining your face and neck. It's all the Corinthian.

You throw your head back roughly and gasp when you cum, your head spinning as the back of it smacks against the table. Your thighs tremble and shake as he refuses to let up, sinking his tongue deeper inside. Your moans almost sound like tiny cries as you grind your hips into his mouth.

He licks his lips, tasting you on his tongue with an immense amount of appreciation. "You're fucking delicious, baby,” he hums, smirking dangerously.

He sits up to his full height once more, his hand finding its place around your throat as he bends down to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on his tongue is intoxicating.

His lips smack as he pulls away from you. Without a word, he flips you onto your stomach atop the table. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly. The breath is forced from your lungs as your chest presses against the table.

The Corinthian tangles his hand in your hair as he roughly pulls your head up, making you look up as your eyes fall on Graham.

“Look at him,” he hums. “Look at all that good work.”

You do. You take in the sight of him with a new set of eyes. The red thread keep his lips shut tight. He'd made such wonderful sounds when you'd sewn them. You'd taken his song and added it to your own, his fear and his desperation had been the perfect addition to your symphony.

His blood soaks his clothes, as well as your face, what was once crimson now darker from being exposed to the air. You can still hear the way he choked, the way he gasped for air that wouldn't come.

His skin was so pale, his eyes that were once a pale blue now cloudy and grey with the mask of death. His once pink lips are just as grey. You can still see the smile they made, the words they spoke. The things he could sing.

You could still hear him singing.

You moan when the Corinthian’s hand presses between your slick folds again. He smiles, another dark chuckle slipping from his lips. “There you go,” he says. “Nice and slick for me. Be a good girl and say please.”

You let out an airy breath, mumbling a tiny whisper of, “Please.”

But he isn't convinced as he groans and shakes his head. “No, you can do better than that, sweetheart. Now I'm not going to give you what you need until you say please.”

Desperate and needy, you let out another breathy moan. “Please,” you whine again, louder this time as your words form into a melody. “I need you. I need you to make me yours.”

He's drunk off your obedience, the way you gave into him so easily from the start. He inclines his head, satisfied. “Good girl.”

The jingle of his belt buckle fills your ears with its gentle ring. Your pussy flutters when you feel the tip of him press against your folds. “Please,” you whisper again.

You let out a long breath when he buries himself to the hilt inside of your hot cunt. A rough groan falls from his lips, the tip of his cock pressing deep inside of you as you lose your breath.

You grip the table, allowing the pleasure to fill you as he holds your hips tight. You moan at the stretch of him inside you.

The Corinthian lets out a deep breath, steadying himself as he pulls out just barely to the tip before roughly thrusting back into. You moan loudly, your head dizzy with the feeling blossoming inside of you.

He doesn't allow you a slow build. He doesn't give you the privilege of easing you into the monstrous nature of his love. Instead, he holds you steady as he fucks into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust to him.

He grunts and groans behind you as he uses you to his need. He feeds off your moans, their song-like nature filling the air and seeming to hypnotize him into wanting even more of you, into needing even more of you.

The sound of his hips smacking against your ass fills the room. It joins your moans and his dark grunts, blending together perfectly.

“Listen to you,” he grunts. “You're my little song now.”

You can no longer think straight, your head spinning with pleasure, with the sound of Graham's singing in your head, with the sound of flapping wings.

You watch Graham as if through rose-colored glasses, the pleasure mixing with the sight of him creating something you've never felt before as you continue to moan meekly.

And, for a moment, you think of Dream.

As a melody plays in the back of your brain, a new melody you've never heard before, you think about how much you want to show Dream.

But he abandoned you. And, before that, he'd created you as a sweet dream that could never know anything other than harmony. And you hated him for that.

So, as you watch the blood drip from his sealed lips, you smile and give into the Corinthian completely. His fingers press to your clit, and you shudder as you feel yourself getting so close, so close to falling apart and forever becoming the Corinthian’s song…ready to leave Sweet Dream behind forever.

The pressure builds as his speed on your clit does as well. You clench around his cock, your head light and your moans scratching your throat. “Corinthian,” you whine. “I'm so close.”

His hips snap into yours a little harder. “I bet you are,” he huffs. “Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make you nice and full.”

The pleasure rises within you until you can’t hold it in anymore. With a thrust of his hips and a circle of his finger, you fall apart. Your whole body shudders as you let out a loud, breathy moan as it all comes crashing down. You give in to the Corinthian’s symphony of death.

A rough groan, bordering on a growl, erupts from his throat as he shoves his cock as deep inside you. He gives in to the squeeze of your cunt and cums, grinding his hips so deep as he fills you to the brim.

And with one last thrust, with his cum buried in your fluttering pussy, he claims you as his. He lets go of your hair, pulling out of you with a heavy sigh.

You whimper at the loss of him, laying on the table as your legs shake.

The Corinthian’s arms wrap around you, picking you up and pulling you to stand as he embraces you in another kiss. You lean into him, letting his lips meld against yours.

He looks over your face, the new clarity in your eyes. He smiles.

“Sing me a song, sweetheart.”

And you do. You sing a song of a dying promise, the sounds of the symphony you'd just created allowing you to sing a melody of broken hope and shattered dreams.

You sing for a long time as the Corinthian listens to you, enchanted by your song, by your new dream.

Now, you belonged to him.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 The Corinthian taglist: @waitingformysandman @honey-im-hotdog @saltysasque @anotherblackreader Tag yourself here...

[spiderlandry]

YOUR BLOG>>>>

i had a chad idea that i think you would write so well!! can you please do a singer!reader x chad fic where the reader is a famous singer and chad goes their concerts and already knows all the words to the songs and he’s just super fun and supportive?

thank you so much!

this is such a cute idea <3 i used to dream of being a singer when i was a kid (until i realized i was bad LOL) so this kinda felt nostalgic for some reason. i’ve also never been to a concert so sorry if it’s not accurate!

100 follower event

warnings: mentions of ghostface murders, kissing, established relationship, takes place (kinda) way into the future lol, not proofread i apologize

voice — chad meeks-martin

Chad had never been more proud in his life.

You’re in the dressing room, sitting at the vanity mirror about two hours before the show starts. You’d been talking to Chad who is sitting on the tiny couch while you bounce with nervousness in your seat. It’s your biggest show yet, and though you’ve performed time and time again during the tour, the fact that it’s thousands of people coming to see you still makes you giddy.

“God, I’m fucking nervous.” You look to him with those puppy eyes that endeared you to him when you first met in college.

He stands up and walks over to you, cupping your cheek. “I’m so proud of you, alright?”

You smile, putting your hands around his torso. (You’ll never get used to the feeling of his abs.)

“How did I get so lucky, hm?” You whisper. “I can’t believe you’re here.” And he knows you’re not just referring to how he’s gone overseas, paying out of his own pocket—though you offered to pay, he refused—just to see you perform. (You still gave him a discount.) You’re also referring to everything you’ve gone through together, including the ghostface murders.

“I think that’s my line,” he grins. “You’ll do great out there, by the way. I’ll be down there singing along, as always. And…I gotta go.”

“Do you really have to go?”

“You know I have to, I need to get a good view.”

“You always have a good view of me, though.”

“Oh, yeah?” He snickers, leaning in for a kiss.

“Yeah.” You slot your lips over his, melding together perfectly as it always had been.

You pull back first, and he almost whines.

“You’re the one who said you have to go, remember? Get a good view.” You tap his chest as he pouts.

“Well, Anika’s probably coming soon anyway. I don’t wanna face her wrath.”

For previous concerts, you hired Anika as your head costume designer as she studied fashion design and it worked out well because you were already friends—so you decided to take her on tour as part of the team.

As if on cue, the door opens and Anika is standing at there, beautiful as ever.

“Hey,” Chad drags out the word, like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Look who we have here, what a surprise, eh?”

Anika rolls her eyes, unsurprised at Chad’s antics, almost annoyed. But the slight upturn of her lips says otherwise. “Go. They need to get dressed, dingus.”

As she pushes him out of the room, he exclaims, “Dingus is my thing!” while the door closes on him.

“How do you feel now that he’s your brother-in-law?”

She scoffs, laughing. “Don’t remind me.”

-

Chad chants your name along with the crowd, cheering as you appear on stage and began to sing the first song.

Your voice is still as angelic as the first time he heard it in freshman year during karaoke night. He practically swoons when you spot him in the crowd and flash him a smile, people around him screaming as they might have thought it was them you looked at, but he will always know that smile is for him. Only him.

He watches you play the crowd as if it’s your birthright. The audience sing with you, the packed stadium lighting up with the glowing wristbands given at the start of the show.

It’s at the end of the setlist when you begin to talk.

“Before the last song, I would just like to play something extra,” You say, out of breath from the performance. The audience cheers. “This song isn’t even released yet, so I don’t know how it’s gonna go—I didn’t rehearse.” You laugh.

Chad wonders what song it is—you didn’t tell him, typically he’d know if you planned to do something different.

“I wanna dedicate it to somebody in the audience, somebody who…” You scan your eyes to find him in the crowd, and everyone around him gawks. “Somebody who has supported me from the beginning, right there,” You point, and he laughs out of disbelief. “Chad, I love you.”

After a brief moment, you add, “And please don’t make fun of his name, it’s a sensitive topic.”

They laugh as the song begins to play, the boom of the bass overtaking the speakers, and your voice floods the area once again.

Tears line his eyes. You’d played this song for him only once before, but it was so long ago. It was in his dorm room, a few nights after he’d asked you to be his and you gathered the courage to show him songs you’ve worked on. Albeit the original was much less refined, only the bare bones of it, but he’d seen your potential and pushed you to start getting gigs at small places.

The nostalgia takes over like a wave. A tear falls, and unbeknownst to him, a fan films his reaction and posts it even before the concert ends.

-

DELETED SCENE

In your hotel room, you’re awake before Chad. You admire his sleeping features for a moment before you open your phone to see a text message from Anika.

Anika bby <3

saw this on instagram

[Attachment: 1 Video]

You press play, and end up tapping your boyfriend awake.

“Hm?” He murmurs groggily, sleep dripping off his voice. “What?” He rubs his eyes, and stares at you, trying to hold in a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He asks.

“You cried last night?” You coo, and can’t help but giggle when he props himself up on his elbow a little too quickly and gets lightheaded.

“Who told you?”

You hand him the phone wordlessly.

He squints while the headache goes away, eyes widening when he finally sees clearly.

He grins at you, “So, what? Can I not cry over the love of my life dedicating a song to me?”

“You’re such a sap,” though you tease him, the prospect warms your heart.

And though he laughs, there’s a ring burning through a hole in his suitcase; if you’re calling him a sap now, he wonders what you’ll do when he makes his speech for your hand in marriage.

[theetherealbloom]

NO BODY, NO CRIME | TIM ROCKFORD

No Body, No Crime | Tim Rockford x Fem!Reader

Summary: You investigate a series of murders and the disappearance of your friend, Este. Suspecting Este's husband, Adam, you take matters into your own hands, orchestrating a scheme to frame him for the crimes as you hide the truth from your boyfriend-Detective Tim Rockford.

Paring: Det. Tim Rockford x Profiler Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, Crime Stuff, Angst, FLUFF, Kissing, Established Relationship, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Blood, Character Deaths, Awkward, Plot Holes,

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This is for @beskarandblasters drabble challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in the Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, I had so much fun writing this. I’ve never written for Tim Rockford before, so I hope I did him some justice. 

Song: no body, no crime by Taylor Swift (feat. HAIM)

Main Masterlist

WILLOW’S CREEK – EVENING

The faint drone of the TV news reporting a surge in local murders filled the room, but you quickly drowned it out, lowering the volume. Seated on your couch, legs tucked in, you and Este cradled glasses of wine. "You look like you’ve been losin' sleep," you observed, noting Este's tired eyes and lack of color in her complexion.

Este sighed heavily, her voice tinged with frustration. "My husband's actin' different, and it smells like infidelity," she confessed. "That ain't my Merlot on his mouth. That ain't my jewelry on our joint account. No, there ain't no doubt, I think I'm gonna call him out."

Concern furrowed your brow as Este voiced her suspicions. "I think he did it, but I just can't prove it," she added, her words heavy with uncertainty.

At the station, you found yourself immersed in a case alongside Detective Tim Rockford, the FBI had sent you, a profiler to collaborate with him to work on the case. Together, you were tackling the investigation into a chilling serial killer plaguing the area.

"All similar-looking... died the same way too," you remarked, studying the evidence on the board. Tim nodded grimly. "I reckon the unsub might strike again soon."

A shiver ran down your spine as you surveyed the photos of the victims, their hauntingly familiar faces unsettling you to your core.

"You alright there, sweetheart?" Tim's voice broke through your thoughts as he approached, wrapping an arm around your waist. Weary, you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in his warmth.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his concern evident. "Is it about the case or somethin’ else?" he inquired softly.

Meeting his gaze, filled with understanding, you began, "Remember when Este came over last Tuesday?"

Tim nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Had your girl talk?"

You affirmed with a nod. "Este suspects that her husband is cheating on her."

Tim let out a low whistle. "Shit."

"Yeah," you agreed, worry etched in your features. “I might message her later, try and meet up with her at an Olive Garden next week on Tuesday or something.”

Tim nods, “I can drop you off.”

“You don’t have—” He cuts you off before you can finish, “I’ll drop you off, sweet girl. I know how stressed you get when you drive.”

You grumble with a small pout, “Some people shouldn’t have a license.”

He plants a kiss on your cheek before gently turning you to face him, his lips meeting yours in a tender embrace. "Let’s go home, darlin’, and we’ll tackle all of this in the mornin’," he murmurs softly.

Friday, 8:34 PM

You: Olive Garden next week, Tuesday?

Este: Sure, see you soon!

Tuesday, 7:38 PM

You: Hey, got us a table. Let me know if you’re on the way! <3

8:34 PM

You: Are you running a little late?

WILLOW’S CREEK – THURSDAY, MORNING

Este was nowhere to be found—neither at Olive Garden nor at her workplace.

You're on the phone, dialing Este's number for what feels like the hundredth time, only to be met with silence. Suddenly, Este's husband, Adam, strides into the station to report her disappearance to the sergeant.

Fury bubbles up inside you, and you're on the verge of lunging at him when Tim intervenes. His arms encircle your waist, guiding you away from Adam and into a nearby conference room. With a gentle touch, he pulls you close, kissing you until the world spins a little less wildly, calming your frayed nerves.

"He did it, Tim. I know it. All the murders, Este missing, it’s him. He did it," you whispered, your voice trembling, as Tim held you close, his arms a comforting shield.

"What do you mean?" Tim inquired, his brow furrowing in concern.

"All the women, they were surrogates for Adam to perfect his crime. To get rid of Este. And I noticed when I passed his house, his truck has got some brand new tires," you explained, determination shining in your eyes despite the fear gnawing at your insides.

"Let’s get to diggin’ then, darlin’," Tim declared, pressing a reassuring kiss to your temple as you swallowed down your nerves. You knew facing Adam would be dangerous, but you were willing to risk it for justice.

"His mistress moved in, sleeps in Este's bed and everything. No, there ain't no doubt. We gotta catch him," Tim remarked grimly as you both surveyed the evidence board, the weight of the unsolved case heavy on your shoulders.

Weeks had passed, and still, you hadn't found a body.

"No body means there’s no crime," you murmured, your voice tinged with frustration. "We need reasonable cause to detain him, evidence to bring before a judge. Without a body, he can't be tried for murder."

"I think he did it, but I just can't prove it," you admitted quietly, your words echoing the frustration of your fruitless search.

Another week slipped by, and as Tim slept soundly beside you, you meticulously planned your next move. With wide eyes and clenched teeth, you gazed up at the ceiling, every detail of your scheme playing out in your mind.

Thank the stars your daddy insisted on that boating license when you were just fifteen. And all those years cleaning houses? They taught you exactly how to cover up a scene. Then there's Este's sister, willing to swear she spent the night with you for a girl's night. And let's not forget the icing on the cake—the mistress and her hefty life insurance policy.

With a smirk, you loaded the boat with the evidence of your carefully crafted plan. After all, taking out a life insurance policy shortly before someone's demise raises more than a few eyebrows. It's a motive so strong, it practically screams guilt. And that policy? It's as circumstantial as it gets, proof that the suspect knew the end was near.

THE STATE COURT

WILLOW’S CREEK – AFTERNOON

You sat beside Tim as the trial reached its climax. Despite the defense's best efforts, they couldn't shake the suspicion surrounding you. But proving it? That was a different story altogether.

As the jury delivered their verdict, condemning her to a lifetime behind bars, you stood outside the courthouse, watching the chaos unfold. Cameras flashed, reporters clamored for a statement, but you remained composed, a smug smirk playing at your lips. Tim stood steadfast by your side, his arm draped protectively around your waist, a silent testament to his unwavering loyalty.

Then she saw you, desperation flashing in her eyes as she lunged forward, restrained by the police. "You did this! It was you!" she screamed, her accusations falling on deaf ears.

Arms folded across your chest, you merely smirked as she was ushered into a patrol car. She may believe you're guilty, but without proof, her words were nothing but empty threats.

Tim pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, and you leaned into his embrace, knowing that together, you were untouchable.

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

Seven snippets, seven people

Was tagged by @lonsdalewrite forty bazillion years ago, finally have enough material and spoons to actually share stuff. Thank you for the tag!!

Gonna do the elf marriage wip (Nettle and Song if you're pretentious (and I am)) cuz it's the freshest one

Tagging (lmk if you want off this ride or onto it)

@hanna-writes, @nabanna, @croaceian, @angelofthemornings, @descent-of-stars

@rrrawrf-rewrites, @scribble-dee-vee, @forthesanityofsome @meanceclosetohell and YOUUUUUUU!

Putting the snippets under a cut cuz I can't be bothered to edit them rn but I might feel up for it later also it got kinda long oops

1

“Relax. As long as you don’t murder anyone, these talks will be the most peaceful interaction we’ve had with humans since the war ended,” Del mumbled while they waited. “It’ll be fine even if you don’t speak. Or smile. Or make any sort of positive impression.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure they’ll love giving their princess away to the meanest-looking asshole in the Given Earth.”

“Meanest-looking? No-no, dear prince, you’re a pretty elf boy. Humans find elves irresistible, you know. Just pout and bat your little eyelashes, and they’ll let you get away with just about anything.

Roel grimaced, hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“Wonderful.”

2

Mother sat down next to Teddy, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Nobody can force you to marry against your will, Theodosia. No matter who says what, no matter the so-called political benefits or diplomacy. You are not cattle to be traded.”

Mother glared at Elias, who winced, “Stop. I didn’t bring Teddy up to trade her.”

“Then why did you?”

“And why not? Is this better? What’s left for her here, where she’s not allowed into the royal palace without an invitation? Where her own mother and siblings can’t see her without sneaking behind the king’s back like criminals? She didn’t do anything wrong!”

3

“Ted? Is everything alright?”

He put rubbed her back gently. It made the tears sting harder, and she blinked them away stubbornly. If people noticed Efra, they’d notice her and her expression, and that would lead to gossip. Better to have the elves be the main talking point rather than the queen’s rejected child having a crisis.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she sighed deeply.

“Are you sure? I could tell them to wait.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just remembering some things. Nothing to worry about.”

She forced a smile. Efra didn’t seem convinced, but this wasn’t the time to figure out Teddy’s emotional traumas. He had to drop it almost as much as she.

“The elves are ready to meet me, I assume?” she said when he kept staring at her with that worried expression.

“Yes. But I’d rather come up with an excuse than have you break down in front of them.”

“’Break down’?” Teddy scoffed. “Please. If I were breaking down, there would be casualties.”

4

“I forgot that humans welcome women in combat,” Del said thoughtfully. “Androel, would you consider this a virtue or a flaw in a woman?”

Roel hated his brother in that moment, when Del forced all eyes to land on him.

He grunted vaguely, “Depends on who she’s fighting.”

5

“Do you have magic too, Lady Frye? Were you blessed by your goddess?” Roel wondered, genuine curiosity softening his tone.

Lady Frye smiled demurely. “I have been blessed by Etheme as well as any other member of my family, Your Highness. Even if it was never quite so obvious as those of my siblings, I am still grateful for it.”

“For what?” Roel pressed.

Her smile took on a strained edge. “One must be grateful for everything Etheme deems fit to give. My only gifts were a full belly and a loving family.”

So she hadn’t received a blessing, then. She had no magic. Wasn’t that so much easier to say than whatever other nonsense she’d been going on about?

The song was coming to an end. Soon, they parted, and Roel bowed along with the other men. She curtsied deeply.

“Thank you, Prince Androel,” she said. “I hope we can dance again sometime.”

He didn’t.

6

“But don’t you want to choose who you marry?” Mother asked. “What if they demand heirs? What then?”

Teddy hadn’t thought that far. Or rather, she hadn’t wanted to think that far. The idea of simply sharing a bed with Prince Androel made her queasy enough, but imagining touching him? Or him touching her? It made her want to peel her skin off.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. If we get there. Aren’t you worried a little too prematurely? What if Prince Androel says no?”

She half hoped he would.

Mother shook her head, “I spoke with King Roendel. The prince is willing.”

Oh. So it was really happening.

After that awful first meeting, too! It seemed the prince must’ve had his own reasons for accepting, since he was openly disgusted with her.

And every other human.

And everything in general.

7

“How long do I have to stay?”

“There is no time requirement, Your Highness, and you may leave whenever you please. Though I would recommend staying for the better part of an hour at the very least, if you cannot tolerate a whole night.”

“Can you?” he challenged.

“I don’t see why not. I’ve a good book, some hot tea and biscuits, and it’s a warm summer night. There are worse ways to spend an evening.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“In the bed.”

“And where will I sleep?”

Theodosia pursed her lips, her cheeks bursting with sudden color. “I’m sure the bed can accommodate two people.”

“Which part of ‘I am not touching you’ escapes your understanding?” Roel sneered.

“If at least one of us is awake when physical contact accidentally happens, we each would be able to stop it. And if it happens while we’re both asleep, what difference does it make?”

[goshdangronpa]

Well, @silverisafukintrainwreck asked, so here are just a few of the many fic ideas currently languishing as batches of notes in my Google Drive!

(btw Silver, I'd be interested to here about these wild ideas of yours!!)

"Dislikes: Oversized Things" - Literally just two sentences that read, "GIST: Of all the things to include in the dislike section of Mikan Tsumiki's bio, why 'oversized things'? A few snapshots reveal all." I don't know why this struck me enough to make a whole document out of it. But it might be worth returning to ...

"Please Give Me Wings" - Mukuro asks Sayaka to teach her a song that Junko wants her to sing for the First Killing Game, and an unexpected romance develops at the worst possible time. Tragic ikuzono - I'm picturing a Danganronpa take on Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo. Based on that one scene of Mukuro singing in DR3.

"Ultimate Jackass" - Jackass, with Ultimates. An ishimondo fic!

"HEARTBREAKING: The Worst Person You Know is Dating Your Sister" - Makoto visits Komaru while on vacation in post-UDG Towa City, and he's unhappy to learn that his baby sister's in a relationship with the infamously unpleasant Toko. Originally conceived as a single awkward scene, the idea's spiraled out into a whole epic adventure that I'm just not ready to write yet.

"Twilight Syndrome Murder: The CYOA" - You are Mahiru, your best friend just murdered someone in your name, and you must decide how to proceed. My newest idea to get a Google Doc! I've always wanted to write a Choose Your Own Adventure kind of story.

Tbh I don't see any of these leaving the backburner soon. I have even more ideas that I'm much more likely to tackle once I finally finish KR. But I do think about all of these from time to time! That's why I have documents for them. Maybe someday ...

[silverhallow]

Strangers All At Once: Wish You The Best

Strangers All At Once Masterpost

Prev | Next

Pairing: Sophie Beckett x Benedict Bridgerton

I wanna say I miss the green in your eyes And when I said we could be friends, guess I lied I wanna say I wish that you never left Oh, but instead I only wish you the best I wanna say without you, everything's wrong And you were everything I need all along I wanna say I wish that you never left Oh, but instead I only wish you the best

Sophie didn’t come to work for two days and Michael had no idea what was going on, he’d never seen her like this before. When he’d dropped off some food after the Hen Do, she didn’t even come out of her room, he’d heard the almost broken “go away Mike, i’m fine” and he’d known she wasn’t and after two days of not seeing nor hearing from her… he was worried and so called in the two people he knew would have some sort of idea as to what was going on.

Francesca and Eloise.

He’d spoken to Phillip and told him what had happened, they agreed that they needed to do something and soon…

So they’d each called their girlfriends as they’d had enough of their older brother and agreed that something needed doing. Eloise and Francesca had always liked Sophie and they’d seen the looks between the two of them during the wedding planning dinner and suspected there was more going on than anyone knew. 

Between Michae and Phillip they’d been doing some digging and they knew that Benedict had been planning to ask Sophie to marry him and that he had the ring. Eloise had found it the week before the stag and hen do and Michael knew it was all a big fuck up and there had to be some sort of reason behind what Sophie thought she’d over heard… they needed to talk and sort it out.

But in the meantime, they had to know what was going on, they had no idea that Benedict had been around to Sophie’s and Michael knew why Sophie had left, thinking Benedict didn’t want her, having heard him say he wasn’t going to ask her to marry him, and then again a few weeks ago saying it meant nothing…

So he had to wonder what was going on.

“Honestly, if i have to hear him singing everybody hurts one more time i might kill myself” Eloise grumbled

“You could stop at home rather than crashing at Ben’s…” Francesca said

“Someone has to keep an eye on him, honestly it’s worse than the first time Sophie left… but rather than moping, when he’s not singing and pretending he’s not crying he’s just raging…”

“Raging?” Michael asked “what for?”

“No idea, he’s careful not to say anything around mum but I heard him saying something about how Sophie just… gave up on them how they’d yelled at one another,” Francesca said “he’s been writing angry songs and his art is a little scary… I'm sure I saw one picture of an older woman that looked a bit like Sophie’s step-mum being hung, drawn and quartered…”

Michael and Phillip looked at one another “really?”

“Yeah, I saw that… it was freaky as fuck… but honestly we need to do something. If they come to blows at the wedding… Mum might murder Sophie and i’m not sure I can live without her muffins” Eloise said as Francesca nodded.

“We do have to be careful though, just from what we’ve found out we don’t want to make it worse… it just… feels like this entire thing between them has been a massive cock up and misunderstanding” Phillip said which caused the girls to frown

“I’ve… i’ve got an idea but I was thinking maybe waiting until we can get them both together at the wedding and then make them both see sense” Michael said

“Does Sophie even know you’re coming?”

“No. we’ve not told her. She gave us what for the other week when we tried to give her relationship advice… so we decided not to tell her…” Michael grinned

“But the cafe?” Eloise asked

“Al and John are going to cover for us and have agreed not to tell her” Phillip said

Eloise grinned “she might kill you…”

“Nah she loves us too much and knows we do this for her rather than for the need of the money. It’s just a bit entertainment for us both” Michael grinned

“And if she was going to kill anyone it would have been Mike when Ben came in for the first time and he sent her off to talk to him” Phillip laughed.

“What was it that you’ve found out?” Francesca asked

“It’s better you don’t know, gives you plausible deniability with your brother” Michaal said.

Eloise looked at Phillip “No i’m with him on this. If Ben finds out you knew… he’d never forgive you for not telling him as soon as you found out”

Eloise grumbled but agreed, leaving Michael and Phillip to handle it. 

It was the following day that Michael learned that there was more to the situation that he’d first thought.

Sophie finally came into the office as it was only three days until the wedding and she had some things to sort with the caterers and make sure all the things had arrived for the cake she was to bake and she had a few calls to make.

She’d called Alice in and asked her if they could have a meeting just the two of them and Sophie had thought, given that it was earlier in the day and she knew no one else was due at work for another hour, that she could have a private conversation with her.

But what she didn’t realise was Michael had spent the night with Fran and as she’d headed off to Uni, he’d decided to just come in early and get a bite to eat before he started his shift.

He was just walking past Sophie’s office when he noticed it was closed and he was about to knock to see if she was there and if she was okay after everything but froze with his arm in his air when he heard voices…

“Sophie dear, this does seem like a bit of a drastic measure to take…” came Alice Crabtree’s voice and Michael frowned at the door

“It may well be but I can’t stop here anymore. It’s either give you and John the cafe or i’ll have to sell it. He knows where I work, where I live… I just… can’t stop here anymore” Michael had no doubt who Sophie was talking about

“Where will you go?”

“I’ll go back to France, the patisserie I worked in said I can go back anytime… i’ll ring them when I get to France. I’ve got family I can stop with”

“When do you think you’ll go?”

“Day after the wedding”

“And Kate?”

“I’ll call her when I get to France after her honeymoon”

“Sweetheart you can’t ring your best friend and tell her you’re never coming back…”

“I can. She’s going to be Ben’s sister in law… if I stop i’ll be forced to see him, forced to remember everything, I’ll never get over him if I stop and have to see him whenever Kate has something to celebrate… she doesn’t need me anymore and he never wanted me, he said it meant nothing to his family, that we still meant nothing to him and he’s clearly moved on, how can be around someone I meant so little to when he meant so much to me… she’ll understand”

Michael wanted to burst through the door, to yell at her, to tell her that she was wrong, that he did want her but he knew she’d never believe him and he knew what he had to do…

~*~

Sophie had had a few days to think about it, after she’d cried herself to sleep after Benedict had left, her heart completely, utterly and irreparably broken.

It had taken her a few days to decide and she knew what the plan was.

She had to leave.

Forever.

She missed Benedict, she’d missed him from the moment she’d left. She’d wanted him to fight for her, to tell her she was wrong but he didn’t… he made a weak effort to stop her but that was it.

She missed him coming home and telling her about his day. She wanted to know everything about how he was doing but knowing that he had someone else… she really didn’t want to know about her.

She’d said that they could be friends but she had to realise that she’d lied. There was no way she could be just friends with Benedict. Not when she knew him intimately, when she wanted him intimately and she loved him.

That was all these last few weeks had proven to her. She wasn’t over him. 

She wanted to tell him that without him everything was wrong, that he was everything she needed all along but instead… all she could do was run away and from a distance was wish him the best.

He’d accused her of running away and she had to face the truth, she’d ran away two years ago, and she was going to be running away again but she had no choice.

She wished she’d never left but she knew if it meant nothing to him then… It meant nothing to now.

She wanted him to be happy, it was her brutal flaw she knew that. She was kind hearted and she could never hate anyone. She didn’t even hate her step mother who had abused her emotionally and physically… so she could never hate Benedict.

She hated herself. She’d always blamed herself, that she wasn’t good enough for anyone and she knew that now. She finally understood what the problem was.

It was her.

She hated the idea of leaving the little cafe that she’d built, the place she’d grown up in… but she had no other options now. Kate was all that was left of her old life. Posy was with Hugh and travelling over in America. Kate didn’t need her after the weekend. She had a new family. A husband. 

Something Sophie would never get.

After the weekend she’d be gone for good.

~*~

Benedict was sulking. There was no other word for it. 

He’d done the one thing Kate had told him not to do and it had bitten him in the arse. 

Rather than having a reasonable conversation with Sophie, explaining that he hadn’t been kissing Tilley rather that she was kissing him and he’d pushed her off, he yelled at her.

He’d accused her of running away, of giving up on them… when the more he thought about it… the more he had to admit from everything she’d told him about Araminta…

It had been a reasonable reaction, though he had wished she’d talked to him, told him what was going on. She’d said she’d wanted to talk to him but she’d overheard him saying something.

He had been wondering how he was going to get to speak to her, how he’d try to speak to her during the wedding and tell her the truth when his mother turned up unexpectedly late one afternoon..

Anthony must have said he’d been moping and she’d come around and Benedict hadn’t expected his mother to give him hell.

“You have no right to be moping like this” she’d said as she ripped open his curtains, almost blinding him.

“I have every right!” he’d groaned as he buried his face into his sofa cushion.

“No you don’t. I always thought perhaps there was more to the break up than you’d let on but clearly you’re not as blameless in this as i thought you were” Violet said 

“I am not to blame at all! She left me mum! SHE LEFT ME”

“Did you know she’d told me two days before she left that she loved you?”

“She did what?” Benedict said, sitting up far too quickly and feeling his world swirl on its axis as he flopped back down

“Yes. we were talking in the kitchen and she was gushing about you and let it slip, she’d gone so red and promised me not to say anything to you as she’d not told you herself as she wasn’t ready because she didn’t think you felt the same…” Violet explained calmly as she walked around his flat tidying up the empty beer bottles that were lying around.

“But… but…”

“I know she broke up with you but she let slip something the other week that perhaps her step mother threatened you, she stopped herself from saying your name but I’d bet my life it was you” Violet said as she tossed the rubbish in the bin and poured her son a glass of water from the tap and handed it to him

“She did. She told Kate at the hen party… Kate told me”

“Well that explains a lot. Araminta was awful. She would have done it as well… but that’s not all, I think she still loves you”

“Mum if she did she’s got a funny way of showing it, she yelled at me, she told me not to contact her again”

“Well being caught snogging your ex…” Violet said, a knowing look on her face

“Kate told you?!”

“Actually Eloise did” Violet said as Benedict groaned “but add that with what we overheard at dinner… it’s not really a surprise…”

“What do you mean…? Overheard what?” Benedict asked, rubbing his face and running his hand through his hair, he was exhausted and this conversation was hurting his head.

“It meant nothing. If she means nothing to me she should mean nothing to you! She’s Kate’s friend, so we have no choice but to be nice to her” Violet reiterated, her elegantly sculpted brow raising as she looked at her son

“She heard that!?” Benedict asked, the colour draining from his face.

“I did too. You weren’t exactly quiet Ben but I saw the heartbreak on her face. I told her to go home and i’d cover for her” Violet said “I know your siblings will have given you a hard time but words hurt Benedict… and those words I think shattered her heart, add that with seeing you with your Ex…”

Benedict groaned and buried his face in his hands “no wonder she told me to go away and not talk to her anymore… how… How do I fix this mum? I love her. I’ve loved her since the moment I met her… i still love her now”

Violet sighed and took a seat next to her son and placed a hand on his knee “Honestly? I don’t know. You are going to have to talk to her at some point”

“I was going to, I was planning on trying to talk to her at the wedding”

Before Violet could reply there was a loud angry banging on the door “BRIDGERTON you better open up right this second!” came a scottish twang.

Benedict frowned at the door “Michael?”

Violet, having recognised the voice was already on her feet and made her way to the door and opened up to see an angry looking Scotsman at the door “Oh… Violet! I wasn’t… I wasn’t expecting you here…”

“No, I'd rather gather you didn’t dear but I’m assuming you are here to speak to Benedict?” Violet said with a smile opening the door wider to let the young man in.

“I… yeah…”

Benedict frowned “what about?”

“Sophie”

“What… what’s wrong? Is she okay?” Benedict asked panicking

“Not really, she’s making arrangements to leave after the wedding and not come back” Michael said

“She… she…”

“Why?” Violet asked as her son just kept repeating “she” over and over like his brain had stalled.

“Well… erm…” Michael stammered not sure what to say as he didn’t want to malign or maim one of Violet’s children in front of her

“Because of Benedict?” Violet asked as she moved around and sat her son down who was still in a state of shock.

“Well Yeh, I figured it was time he knew the truth about why Sophie left because it seems to contradict things El and Fran have told me and Phil and what i’ve seen with my own eyes and if it was all a lie then i’d planned to kick the living shit out of him as the closest thing Sophie’s got to a brother…” he said with a charming smile on his face.

“Why would Fran and El be telling you anything?” Benedict asked, his shock over Sophie giving way to disbelief.

“Lord, you really are blind… El and Fran have been dating Phil and Mike for a few months…” Violet said, rolling her eyes at her second son.

“What? I thought… one… Sophie?”

“Is like our sister mate and she’s about 4 years old than us both… but honestly, she’s like our little sister hence why i’ve come to make you see some bloody sense” Michael explained

“Oh” was all Benedict could say.

“Can we get back to Sophie?” Violet asked “Benedict knows about Araminta…”

“That’s not the whole story…” Michael said “She’s incredibly stubborn and keeps her heart locked away and i’ve only just found out the truth after the hen do when Kate rung me to come get her drunk ass”

“It’s not… what else is there?”

“So apparently the weekend she was at Aubrey Hall before she broke up with you, she overheard a conversation or at least part of one from what i’ve been able to figure out and work out with the help of your sisters…” Michael explained 

“What has it to do with Araminta?” Benedict asked

“If you’d let me tell my story…” Michael glared at the older and taller man and Violet swatted her son and hissed “shut up” at him

Benedict raised his hands in the air as a sign of compliance.

“So… from what i’ve been able to work out from Sophie’s drunk ramble was she was coming to tell you about Araminta, about the threat and to ask you what you wanted to do about it and to tell you how she felt… but she’d overheard you talking to Anthony, whilst Eloise was in the room” Michael said

Benedict nodded as he remembered what Michael was talking about. He’d told Anthony he’d been to the family vault to get their grandmother’s engagement ring and Anthony had told him to be careful and make sure he was doing the right thing as they barely knew one another and she could be a gold digger and how he’d thought it was just Benedict having a bit of fun.

And he’d said “calm down Ant, I know everything I need to know, it’s not like I am going to ask her to marry me tomorrow. I love her but i know it’s too soon I just want to be ready”

The colour drained from his face, there had been some sort of commotion as he’d said this so he wondered if perhaps Sophie hadn’t heard the entire conversation and ask Michael said 

“Basically she heard you said you’re not going to ask her to marry you. For Ant to calm down as it was just a bit of fun… and something about gold digging… she’d passed out at that point”

“Benedict Bridgerton, you better not have called her a gold digger?!”

“I didn’t!!! Ant didn’t know who her father was so was worried she was after my money… it was him that had said that!! But i… I’d said it’s not like I am going to ask her to marry me tomorrow! I’d been and gotten Grandma Alex’s ring… he’d told me not to rush! To be careful… it was when Hyacinth had run through the hallway with Greg’s playstation and tripped and smashed it… she… she can’t have heard it all! If she was near the incident…” Benedict replied panicking, his arms waving around as he spoke.

“Oh I remember that. I came across Sophie in the hall and she was as white as a sheet. I thought Hyacinth must have nearly hit her with the playstation when she tripped as it was right by her feet… by the drawing room door…” Violet said “but… if she thought…”

“Sophie has always thought she was unloveable, a burden, unwanted… to hear some of that… to think it was just a bit of fun…she’d assume the worst, if someone called her a gold digger it would play right into that. Araminta had told her that someone like you didn’t marry someone like her. Didn’t fall in love with someone like her… she’d never let her forget that her parents weren’t married, called her a burden as well as all the horrific things she put her through… Sophie doesn’t open up to people easily… if she told you everything that she’d been through in those three months and she heard that… she’d have shattered” Michael explained, sadness on his face as he looked at the pain on Benedict’s face.

“So when she left and said “it’s better this way. It never works out in the end and I’m just saving you a job” she thought i was going to break up with her in the end…” Benedict sighed, feeling horrible. 

It had been a horrible misunderstanding, if he’d just told her… if he’d just told her how he felt the moment he’d felt it…

None of this would have happened… 

He loved her, he loved her no matter what, even after all this time he loved her still and now he finally understood.

“I’ve got to fix this… I need to talk to her… I need to tell her how I feel… how I felt then…”

“She’s adamant she’s leaving… she’s going after the wedding and I don’t think she’ll see you…”

“Leave that to me” Violet said looking between the two men, she had an idea… and she knew it would be a success.

[yourslarry]

hello, any fics recommendations? some of your favourite ones?

there’s a lot more I would like to include but I need to leave something for the next time 😇

Grupie Love - Louis is a rock star on a world tour and Harry is a regular attendee. They could never work.

daydream déjá vu - Struggling with bills due to the cost of living increasing, Harry takes on a new side hustle: a spicy content creator. Gaining popularity rather quickly, she’s now making extra cash and living life comfortably.

One night, she’s preparing to film when her best friend Louis barges into her bedroom, looking for his iPad for work.

technicolor - When the small town of Twin Lakes begins experiencing a string of serial murders, a team of detectives is called in to help. Louis is the head of the team and meets a hard-headed psychic who everyone else seems to believe is the one who will solve the case.

Louis isn't so sure.

sleeping on our problems - Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

Mark my word (we gon' be alright) - oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

Sugar at Night - With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

holding onto heartache - Harry and Louis' relationship start off as something causal as Louis finalizes breaking his bond and marriage to his Omega.

Harry develops feelings for Louis and thinks Louis might feel the same but when Louis tells Harry he wants to give his marriage a try again, Harry doesn't reveal how he feels.

Nor does he tell Louis that he is pregnant with his kid.

They happen to meet again a few years later and Harry can't seem to run away anymore, even from his feelings.

Given a Chance - Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.

My English Love Affair - Harry writes a song about his English love affair and Louis sleeps with someone in White Eskimo and all he gets is a stupid song written about him.

A Few Very Good Mistakes - Louis falls asleep in Harry's bar. Harry takes him home to hang out.

two feet standing on a principle - Harry is a famous fashion model and Louis works at the mall, nobody knows they broke up two weeks ago.

Fall At My Door - A-list actor Harry Styles and award-winning musician Louis Tomlinson have an acquaintances-with-benefits relationship, so whenever their busy professional lives happen to land them in the same city, they meet up. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement.

And that’s all it is. Until it isn’t.

hush. - au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

borrow the moonlight - Louis and Harry broke up three years ago. The last thing Louis expects to see when he’s sent to help a guest is Harry, 3000 miles away from where he’s supposed to be.

sometimes a fantasy - There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch.

So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

what it feels like - “Okay, right. Aren’t you straight?” Harry was straight. Unless he somehow lied to the entire internet about how much he likes pussy, he was straight.

“A good time is a good time. A hole is a hole. What does it matter that I’m straight?”

Louis’ knee wobbled. Barely. Everything was fine.

“That doesn’t sound straight to me.”

Harry groaned and tossed his head back. He looked more comfortable in Louis’ office than he did, swiveling back and forth. “What does it matter that I want to have sex with you? You’re pretty, like a girl, and you moan like one, too. It’s your fault, not mine.”