#peak design is giving something a little face

[mariocki]

Infinite list of favourite lyrics: 225/?

Billy Joel - Big Shot (1978)

"Well, you went uptown riding in your limousine,

With your fine Park Avenue clothes;

You had the Dom Pérignon in your hand

And the spoon up your nose.

Ooh, and when you wake up in the morning

With your head on fire

And your eyes too bloody to see,

Go on and cry in your coffee

But don't come bitchin' to me."

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Beneath a Dragon's Gaze

Summary: With Madame Sylvi indisposed on the evening Prince Aemond comes to visit, he requests someone different | Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: sex work, smut, hair pulling, biting, titty sucking, darkish Aemond

A/N: saw ep 3 and felt silly 😁 not proofread an inch

“The Prince has asked for you.”

She could not help the wide-eyed look and the familiar flipping of her stomach, now feeling entirely different with the words that had come from her fellow woman’s lips. The Prince. Well, it could have meant either of them only weeks before, but no longer. They frequented this establishment quite often, as an upper-class brothel, with only the finest whores and service, it was only natural, and they had the coin to pay for it.

Suddenly, she felt quite cold in the sheer dress she had chosen that evening, doing very little to conceal the flesh that hid beneath, her nipples having formed peaks against the satin. What could she possibly say to that? There was no possibility of refusing. 

“Very well,” she responded, knowing it was not her place to question. There was no question as to which now, it was most certainly the very same who frequented for the warm embrace and soothing voice of Madame Sylvi, who spent hours in her company and paid her a hefty price for it. For secrecy. But she knew just as well that the only reason Aemond had requested her instead, was because on this night, his usual appointment was indisposed. 

Her heart raced as she slalomed through the scantily clad crowd, each step bringing her closer to the corner where the prince awaited. The halls were dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls, alongside those of curved figures, twisted with pleasure. She could hear the muted sounds of such from the other rooms, but they did little to quell the nervousness that gripped her.

When she reached the curtain, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The Prince. Aemond Targaryen. Known for his fierce demeanour and sharp intellect, he was not a man to be trifled with. Yet, beneath that cold exterior, she had heard whispers of a man burdened by the weight of his family.

Sliding the curtain across, met with the Prince, eyepatch already discarded and down only to his breeches, sat with cup in hand on the plush settee, his lone eye raising to her as she dipped for a curtsy. She felt her throat close at the sight of the sapphire, somewhat mirroring what was happening between her thighs.

"Madame Sylvi sends her apologies, my prince. She is unable to attend to you this evening."

Aemond's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny. "I did not call for Sylvi tonight," he said finally, his tone giving nothing away. "I called for you."

Her lips parted to question. But she dare not let the words free. She was not one to ask about his intentions, a mere whore.

“Undress.”

The Prince’s eye never wavered as he watched, flesh revealed as she bared herself to him. He stood as if uncurling himself, finishing what was left in his cup before moving his hands to unlace his breeches, his head gesturing to the settee.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

His commanding tone made those flutters awaken once more. She had been employed at this establishment for so long, of course being naked and bared to an abundance of men was second nature. But there was something about the way he wanted her, the way it seemed not spurred by desire of any kind, but a need, like air, that ignited her nerves that she had not felt since her first few days in this line of work.

Still, bare arsed and exposed to a Prince, was a different matter entirely.

She felt his presence behind her, knowing he was naked as his thighs brushed against hers. He nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, encouraging her to arch her back. Though she could not see his face, the rippled design of the copper in front of her reflected enough for her to sense the detachment in his actions. So, she remained silent.

Prince Aemond guided himself to her centre, barely wet, and pushed his cockhead inside. He had barely breached her when his hands gripped the flesh of her buttocks, watching intently as his cock slowly slid deeper into her cunt, being swallowed by her body. She closed her eyes, the lack of preparation making the act more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but she hoped that with time, her arousal would ease the discomfort.

As Prince Aemond continued to push himself inside her, she focused on her breathing, trying to relax her body and ease the discomfort. The room was silent except for their breaths, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. Each inch he gained felt like a stretch, a challenge to her body's readiness, but she bit her lip, determined to endure.

His hands, firm on her buttocks, began to knead her flesh, his grip alternating between gentle caresses and possessive squeezes. The friction built steadily, her body slowly acclimating to his presence. The initial pain started to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and the stirrings of pleasure.

Aemond moved with a deliberate pace, his thrusts measured and controlled. He seemed intent on watching every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside her, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could feel his intensity, the way he held back his own urges to maintain that slow, torturous rhythm.

Despite the initial discomfort, her arousal began to build. Her body responded to his movements, her inner walls slickening and accommodating his length with increasing ease. Soft moans escaped her lips, unbidden but honest, as pleasure began to mix with the remnants of pain.

Aemond's hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. Her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, seeking some anchor as the sensations intensified.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and edged with restraint. "Do you feel how you take me in?"

"Yes, my prince," she gasped, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "I feel it."

Aemond's pace quickened slightly, his control slipping as his own desire took precedence. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a rhythmic, primal music that spoke of need and release. Her moans grew louder, her body arching and pushing to meet his thrusts, seeking the pleasure that now consumed her.

With a sudden, possessive grip, Aemond's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His lips found her skin, teeth grazing lightly before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding with an involuntary clench around his cock.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her. "Take me, all of me," he whispered, his voice filled with approval and satisfaction. 

She surrendered to the sensations, her body melting into his as pleasure overwhelmed her. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word from Aemond drove her closer to the edge. The discomfort was a distant memory now, replaced by a wave of ecstasy that built with each passing second. His movements so erratic, his stones clapped against her womanhood with every harsh push, slapping against her bud in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

The sensation pushed her over the edge, her own climax washing over her in a powerful, all-consuming wave. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, Aemond drove himself to the hilt inside her once more, his body shuddering and then withdrawing quickly as he found his release and coated her buttocks and thighs with his pearly spend.

They stayed like that for a moment, both catching their breath, their bodies still joined. Slowly, Aemond released his grip on her hair and hips, his hands soothing over the marks he'd left. He pulled out of her velvety walls gently, leaving her feeling both spent and fulfilled.

She expected him to leave, to gather his clothes and slip away into the night, as most men often do with a flick of their coin into her lap. But instead, Aemond surprised her. He curled into her body, his head resting against her chest. His lips found her breast, mouthing at her skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their earlier encounter. His hand moved to her other breast, caressing it with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

She looked down at him, her fingers threading through his silver, moonlit hair. He seemed to take more pleasure in this simple intimacy than she did, as if seeking comfort rather than mere satisfaction. His eyes were closed, his breathing steadying as he continued to nuzzle her chest.

"I hate it," he murmured after a long silence, his voice muffled against her skin.

She blinked, unsure of his meaning. "Hate what, my prince?"

Aemond shifted slightly, his hand stilling on her breast. "Sometimes, I think Madame Sylvi just says anything to appease me. She tells me what she thinks I want to hear, not what she truly believes."

There was a bitterness in his tone that caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?" she asked softly, her thumb stroking the back of his neck.

Aemond's grip on her breast tightened slightly, and she felt a shiver of unease. His lips brushed against her nipple, then his teeth grazed it, sending a jolt through her body. "Because it's easier for her," he said, his voice lower, more dangerous. "Because I'm a prince, and she fears offending me."

She gasped softly at the sensation, the mix of pleasure and pain reminding her of the precarious balance between comfort and control. "But you deserve honesty, my prince," she managed to say, her voice trembling.

He bit down a little harder, enough to make her wince. "Do I?" he asked, his tone a warning. "Or do I deserve the truth, no matter how it feels?"

Her heart raced, the threat in his words unmistakable. "The truth, my prince," she whispered, trying to maintain her composure. "Always the truth."

Aemond's teeth released her nipple, his tongue soothing the sting. He looked up at her, his eye fierce and unyielding. The sapphire lodged in the other piercing and dark. 

"Good," he said, his voice a soft growl. "Because I have no patience for lies, no matter how pretty they are."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

[okwonyo]

ℰ SWEET LOVER, ❛ 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂’𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋.

𝖠𝖫𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖭𝖠𝖳𝖨𝖵𝖤𝖫𝖸──── they love you, their wallet loves you too.

( 𝑓𝗍 ) ㅤㅤ𓈒 日语 + fem!r 𝑖𝑛 8OO ⟡​ fluff established relationship 警告 kissing skinship crying ࿁ 𝘮𝑢𝘴𝑒𝘶𝑚

antescriptum. can be read as christmas gifts or not ♥︎

reblogs&feedbacks ૮ ♡◞ ◟ ა click

HEESEUNG ｡｡ spends several weeks running through every beauty stores he knows to find the perfect gift to give you. the man would spend hours on end to find a fragrance that would be ‘perfect for the most perfect girl in world’—as he says to every employee that tries to help him. his world would change to wonderful colors when he finally finds the one. a fragrance that matches your beauty and aura, luxurious and, oh, so beautiful. he gives you the perfume like it’s nothing on chistmas day, even if his hands are sweaty from anticipation.

JONGSEONG ｡｡ gives your gift to you—if you can even call it like that— in the morning. while the sunlight is peaking through the blinds and the winter’s cold can’t get under the covers. “baby,” he calls you softly as you are hidden in his arms. “remind me what is you dream travel again,” he asks gently. while he smiles, you go on a rent about northern italy in the summer, in a big summer house, close to the sea. he hums all along amd when you finish he nuzzles his nose in your hair, “great, because we are doing that this summer, baby.” it takes a while for you to process, but when you do, you get up so fast that you almost feel nauseous… because, what?

⠀ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ﹙ᵕ ᵕ⠀look under the cut ! ♡

JAEYUN ｡｡ he does get your presents. not only one or two. so much more, as if he bought a gift for you every month of the year to make sure he had something to give to the ones he loves. he gifts your favorite type of clothes, in you favorite colors, from your favorite designer brand. to them, he add expensive bags that you mentioned vaguely over the year. he remembers when and where you said you liked this specific clothing from this one brand— he keeps it’s name in his notes like a secret that is waiting to be shared. and he give these gifts to you with a smile that translates his adoration for you.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ he makes you enter the living room with his hands covering your eyes. “here you go,” he whispers in your ear as he reveals a dozen little blue boxes with bows on them sitting all over the room. there is jewelry in each one of them, each one more beautiful and pricey than the other. then, when your eyes are already watery, in his hands, he offers you a beautiful red box. in it, a darry ring. the one that can be bought only once in a lifetime— a silent promise that you are together for the rest of your lives. he puts the ring on your finger as your tears fall, then he wipe them with his thumb.

SUNOO ｡｡ he knows how much you love to take care of yourself, how good pampering yourself makes you feel, how bad you adore looking beautiful. it is logical that he buys you the best skincare and makeup he can find. he looks at it for months, finding the perfect products for your skin, the one that nourish and make it glow at the same time. he buys you loads of products, because he wants you to have a tons of choices. he takes the bear ones, no matter the price. “your beauty is unmatched,” he tells you. “cannot let any bad products ruin your beautiful face.”

JUGWON ｡｡ listen, at first, he was really thinking of buying you only two or three jellycats. seriously. he didn’t think that he would end up with so much. his heart just knew you too well, it murmured what you would want to your boyfriend. it guided him to the jellycats that you would love— which are every single one of them. and yes, of course, he ended up with the entire collection. you enter your room with jellycats plastered everywhere, covering every single space. you moth fall agape when you see your boyfriend face amongst all of them. “i couldn’t choose, so i took them all,” he defends himself with a grin.

RIKI ｡｡ he loves to play video games witt you. it might be his favorite moment when he comes over, which is everyday because he never really leaves. he adores when you punch him because he is allegedly cheating, when you hug him every time you win and when you have to kiss his cheek because he it is turn to hold victory. his love for those times sits in your heart as well, he knows it, which is why he buys you a nintendo switch. with almost every game you love on it, pretty stickers to put on it and everything that comes with it. the expression on your face is enough to make his entire year.

ᩰ ᩙ𓈒◞ ˕ ◟𓈒ᦡ ’s .. have a wonderful day, luvdolls 🎀 thanks to @soov for the help >3<

𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open。

[cutielando]

my little engineer | o.p.

synopsis: in which Oscar falls in love with a McLaren engineer

a/n: based on this request! the timeline does not really follow the actual season, i just went along with what came to my head

my masterlist

The air buzzed with the energy of the Formula 1 paddock.

Even on a quiet Thursday afternoon, there was a constant undercurrent of urgency, the kind that kept everyone on their toes.

You were no exception to the rule.

As a McLaren engineer, your days were filled with analyzing data, fine-tuning setups, and making sure that the cars were in peak condition. The team’s fortunes often hinged on decisions made in rooms like the ones you were currently in, surrounded by monitors and endless cups of coffee.

You had been with McLaren for 2 years now, your main focus being on aerodynamics. The team had offered to hire you while you were still studying your degree, mainly because of how brilliant your mind was.

Your job was to squeeze every ounce of performance out of the car, translating theoretical possibilities and what-ifs into tangible speed and a sea of accomplishments.

Currently, you were busy reviewing wind tunnel data when a shadow fell across your desk.

Looking up, you saw Oscar standing there, a curious expression in his face. He was dressed casually, but the unmistakable sharpness of a driver’s focus radiated off of him.

“Hey” he said, his soft Australian accent cutting through the silence.

“Hi, Oscar” you greeted him, giving him a small smile.

“Do you have a moment? I wanted to ask you about the changes to the front wing design we made today” he asked, his eyes darting across your desk.

He could see that you were busy, but he couldn’t help himself. Ever since he had joined the team, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was impressed by your knowledge and experience at just 21, basically his age, and he found himself blushing and stuttering every time he would talk to you.

He was acting like a love-sick puppy.

"Of course, take a seat" you said as you gestured to the chair next to you, straightening up in your chair.

Despite only being in his rookie year, Oscar's performance had been nothing short of remarkable. And you also couldn't deny that you took a small, secret liking to the young Aussie driver.

"Can you explain to me, again, what changes we made exactly?" Oscar asked, having sat down next to you.

"Yeah, we've made some adjustments to the endplates in order to better improve airflow around the tires. It should help with high-speed cornering stability" you explained, pointing to the data on one of the monitors.

Oscar leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in what you were saying and what he was seeing on the screens.

"How does that affect the balance? Will it make the rear feel lighter?" he asked, scratching his chin.

"Slightly, yes. But we've made sure to compensate with some tweaks to the diffuser. It will feel different, but once you adjust, you should find it predictable and reliable" you explained.

He nodded, his expression thoughtful.

"I see. I get it now, thanks Y/N" he said, giving you a small smile.

You smiled back, patting him on the shoulder.

"Anytime, Oscar. Let me know how the car feels after FP1 and we can make some more tweaks if it's necessary" you said.

Oscar nodded and gave you one last smile before heading out. You watched him go, noticing the quiet confidence with which he held himself, even as he walked.

There was something about him that intrigued you, a mix of his determination to become the best and his calm, almost reserved personality and demeanor.

Something you definitely wanted to explore.

But for now, you shook the thoughts away, getting back to work before you could spiral into something else.

Into something more dangerous.

♡♡♡♡♡

Over the next few weeks, your interactions with Oscar became more and more frequent.

Whether it was in the garage, during debriefs, or even in the cafeteria, he often sought you out to discuss details about the car.

At first, everything was purely professional. Mostly technical questions, feedback on changes to the setup, and maybe the occasional joke to lighten up the mood.

But gradually, the conversations began to shift.

“So, how did you end up in F1?” he asked one evening, leaning against the workbench as you adjusted a model component.

You froze for a second but quickly regained your composure, a little surprised at the personal question.

“Well, I’ve always loved racing. My dad used to take me to local karting events when I was little. I wasn’t much of a driver, though, but I was really curious about the whole mechanism behind the cars. I got into university and McLaren hired me while I was still studying” you explained.

Oscar’s eyes lit up with interest as you spoke.

“Wow, you must have one hell of a brain, then” he said, making you laugh and blush.

You shrugged, not wanting to gloat.

“I guess they saw something in me, I don’t really know. I’m just grateful I have this opportunity” you said, giving him a smile.

He smiled back, his eyes twinkling.

“It’s good that we have you here with us. We wouldn’t get far without you” he said, his voice softer now.

“It’s a team effort, really, but thank you” you said, your cheeks now an angry shade of red.

Oscar smiled and nodded, and his eyes lingered on you for a second too long. You looked away, your eyes now focused on the task at hand, trying to hide the sudden flutter in your stomach and in your chest.

Damn you, Oscar.

♡♡♡♡♡

As the season progressed, the dynamic between you and Oscar continued to deepen.

He’d stop by your workstation far more often than was necessary, most of the times just to have a chat with you.

You found yourself looking forward to his visits, your butterflies being swarmed with butterflies whenever you would see him approach you. And even though you tried to keep things strictly professional, there were small, fleeting moments than hinted at just something more.

Like the time he brought you coffee during a particularly tough and difficult race weekend, completely taking you by surprise.

“Here, thought you might need this” he said, setting down the cup of coffee in front of you.

Startled, you raise your eyebrows, but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks” you said, looking down at the cup to notice that he had not only brought you coffee, but he brought your favorite type of coffee. “How did you know I like it black?”

Oscar smiled and shrugged.

“I pay attention” was the only thing that he said before he turned and walked away, leaving you staring after him.

Another instance was when he had caught you off guard with a genuine compliment after a tougher free practice session.

“You’re really good at what you do, you know. The car feels incredible because of you” he said, trying to comfort you after the tough debrief.

You’d brushed it off as you always did, trying to pass everything as team effort.

But the sincerity and gentleness of his voice stayed with you long after that.

Maybe a little too long.

♡♡♡♡♡

Monza.

It was during a rain-soaked qualifying session that the tension between the two of you reached an all-time high.

The team had completely gambled on a whole-new setup, a very risky one at that, and the stakes were higher than they ever were in the championship battle.

You were sitting in the garage with your headphones on, monitoring the data as Oscar ventured out on the slippery track.

“How’s the car, Oscar?” Tom, his race engineer, asked him over the radio.

“A bit twitchy, but it’s manageable” his voice crackled over the radio.

You leaned forward over the computer, your heart in your throat as you watched his sector times closely.

Even though the setup was still rocky, he was pushing hard, managing to find the limits and extract the most out of his lap times with every lap.

When the session finished and he crossed the line securing a spot on the second row, the whole garage erupted into loud cheers.

Everyone was hugging everyone, congratulating you on the proposed setup (a gamble, really) and how well it had played out in the end.

Oscar returned a few minutes later, drenched but grinning widely.

His eyes found yours almost instantly, and you couldn’t help but give him a wide smile back.

“Nice work out there” you said as he stopped in front of you.

“Couldn’t have done it without you” he replied, his voice warm and soft.

For a moment, the noise of the garage faded away into the distance, and it was just the two of you there, standing in the middle of the chaos.

Just the two of you.

Later that night, the team had decided to go out and celebrate the amazing qualifying session.

You found yourself sitting at the quieter end of the table with Oscar. The conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly, moving from racing all the way to hobbies and childhood stories.

You learned that he loved cooking, had an embarrassingly extensive collection of movie soundtracks and missed the Australian benches.

“What about you? What do you do when you’re not making our cars faster?” he asked, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you.

You laughed, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not much, to be honest. Work keeps me pretty busy. But I like hiking when I get the chance. It’s nice to unplug and just be with the nature for a little while, away from all the chaos and noise” you said.

He nodded thoughtfully, seemingly hanging onto your every word.

“Sounds peaceful. I haven’t hiked in a long time. Maybe I should start again” he said.

“You should. It’s a great way to clear your head” you said, your lips twitching into a small smile.

The evening stretched on, the line between you and Oscar becoming more blurred with each passing moment.

By the time you left the restaurant, walking side by side under the streetlights of Italy, you felt warmth in your chest at the feeling of him being next to you.

A warmth that had nothing to do with the wine you’d had.

♡♡♡♡♡

The slow burn continued as the season went on.

There were stolen moments in the garage, quiet conversations during long flights and shared smiles that spoke volumes. But neither of you made the step, neither crossed the line.

Not yet, anyways.

But the unspoken tension hung heavily in the air, growing stronger and stronger with each passing day.

And it all came to a head in Abu Dhabi, the final race of the season.

After a very hard-fought battle Oscar had managed to finish on the podium, his best result of the season yet. The team celebrated late into the night, the culmination of months of effort and sacrifice finally paying off.

You found yourself on the balcony of the hotel, the cool desert breeze brushing against your skin.

Oscar joined you a few minutes later, a drink in his hand and a soft smile on his face.

“Couldn’t handle the noise anymore?” he asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

“Something like that. It’s been a long season, I’m exhausted” you said, chuckling.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

“It has. But I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you” he said.

You turned to him, your heart skipping a beat at the fire in his eyes as he looked at you.

“Oscar…”

“No, let me say this. You’ve been there for me through everything. You’ve pushed to be better weekend after weekend, supported me when things got tough and the car was shit. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for you” his voice was firm, like there was no room for you to contradict him.

“I was just doing my job” you said, your voice soft as your breath caught in your throat.

Oscar shook his head, determined to make you see exactly what he was feeling.

“It’s more than that. You mean more to me than just…this. I know we’ve got a million reasons why this wouldn’t work, but i can’t pretend I don’t feel this anymore” he said, his eyes boring into yours.

The vulnerability in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered, all combined shattered every doubt you’d had.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his softly.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it for months, but I don’t want to do it anymore” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curved into a soft smile, and before you could overthink anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that felt as natural as breathing.

The world faded away, leaving only the two of you under the starry Abu Dhabi sky. Months of pining and unspoken tension culminated in a simple kiss, fireworks erupting into every part of your body.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, a content sigh escaping his lips.

“So, where do we go from here?” you asked, your voice tinged with both excitement and uncertainty.

“One step at a time” he said, his fingers intertwining with yours. “As long as it’s with you, I’m happy”

And in that moment, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you’d face them together.

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[gloriouslyunlucky]

Folie à Un

Sylus x afab!reader, pre-relationship

Summary: Sylus thinks of you a little too hard and has to face the consequences. And so does his chair.

Warnings: smut, mdni, sylus finds pleasure all on his own, afab reader, lingerie, no beta bc i have no one i can safely throw this at

Word count: 928; Read time: around 8 minutes

It’s rare for Sylus to lose himself to lust as he has now. He isn’t pure, or prude, or adverse to his own perversion by any means. However, he likes to think he has control over his lust.

Afterall, you haven’t even kissed yet and you’ve been seeing each other since… Well, it’s been months since this seduction dance started between you. Lingering touches here and there, cunning jabs, gifts, confessions, and a million other ways he has shown his interest. Days upon weeks upon months. And he has kept his head cool.

But Sylus is anything but cool, seated in his office, his chin prompted on his hand, his eyes unfocused. The business deal he was looking over is abandoned on the other side of his desk. His attention, feeble treacherous thing, is on the playback of Mephisto’s feed. He’s replayed the recording five times already.

It’s an innocent clip. One that shouldn’t have such an effect on him. You leaned forward towards the bird, to pet it or something of the sort, and your shirt slipped low enough to show the hint of a familiar lace bra. All that’s visible in the clip is the top petals of the flowery design which spans the whole length of the cup, cradling your breast. Sylus knows it well enough. He bought it for you after all. It was nothing more than a coincidence, of course.—it’s too early for this type of gifts. You ogled it in one of the shop displays when you were walking down a busy street in Linkon and he insisted he pay for it. Why wouldn’t he? You deserve far more than the set you got, for far more money than the price you haggled for it. He already gifted you countless jewelry, weapons, dresses, bags, all molded to fit you. And yet, it’s this flimsy cheap piece of polyester that has him in a frenzy.

Frenzy is an understatement. Sylus is almost panting like a dog as he strains against his suit’s pants. Any movement brings friction and friction brings tension and tension brings back memories of you. You, leaning down, not even an inch of bra peaking, and he goes mad. He lets out a frustrated grunt and pushes his chair back enough to give him access to his belt. The buckle falls limp against his hip, his zipper is undone and his boxer is bunched up underneath his length. He pulls his shirt up to his mouth, biting down on it in hopes of muffling any sounds that might escape him. Then, he leans as far back as he can.

He barely has to work himself until he is rock hard. His fingers find the most sensitive spots with ease—he imagines you would to. He doesn’t need to replay the clip anymore. It’s engraved into his mind, into his heart, into his very being. He only needs to conjure the thought of you before his mind is invaded by the sight of your figure straddling him, your hands prompted against his desk, your top hiked up to reveal that torturous bra of yours. You smile at him—he lets out a strained breath. You move your panties out of the way, just enough to grant him access—he bites down harder. You lower yourself down until his tip is inside of you—something between a moan and a grown escapes him.

He’s no better than an animal. Raw, vulnerable, and driven by some primal instinct to keep going. To imagine you bobbing up and down his tights to the rhythm of his own hand. Painfully slow at first—the way your hip dips down, meeting the base of his cock, staying there before shooting back up. His hand is not on himself but on you, digging into your skin, seeking purchase into your hip bone, helping you sustain the rhythm.

More.

It’s a mutter let out between clenched teeth—a thought more than anything—but it leaves him nonetheless and your smile widens. He imagines his other hand cupping that bra, pulling your breast out of it, teasing your nipple as your smile shatters into an expression of deep pleasure. In reality, his fingers are squeezing the arm of his chair until the leather creeks and gives in under his grip—not that he notices.

He’s close. Oh, so close. The rhythm picks up, becomes erratic, forceful, and yet not fast enough. You’re panting—he’s panting. You’re moaning in his ear—he’s moaning into his shirt. Your lips find his neck—his collar rubs against his jugular. You bite down. He comes undone. His hand keeps pumping erratically, his head lolls back, and for a few seconds—maybe 10, maybe 15, maybe an eternity—he is only pleasure, and euphoria, and yours in ways you can’t even imagine.

The fog lifts slowly. Sylus is a little dizzy at first, still lost in the intensity of this, of you. When he comes back to reality, to his empty office, to his business deals, and to the frozen feed of your smile, a brief moment of shame washes over him. His abdomen is dripping white, his pants are stained in key spots, and his shirt is soaked with saliva where his teeth managed to break through the cotton. Not to mention, the arm of his chair broke completely off, now it’s nothing but plastic shards flimsily stuck together by the leather and filling.

He will need a cold shower. Maybe several cold showers. Maybe an ice bath.

And a new chair.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note:

I've decided to create a new writing blog to get back into writing and who to better start with than Sylus! And what a delight it is to have him so whipped and so needy omg. I strongly believe that he is so down bad that he doesn't need anything but a smile from the reader before he gets all hot and bothered--or a bra for that matter jhdfkd I wanted to show more of that vulnerable rare side of him bc he's always so in control all the time, I wanted to depict him losing himself in pleasure so much that the world disappears for a second and he gets to let go. At least for a little bit. And the chair pays the price lmao

Anyway! Thank you so much for reading this! Let me know if you have specific suggestions or requests!

XOXO,

Physically just a girl, mentally a chair

[retrobutterflies]

Nectar | billie eilish

Billie Eilish x Female!Reader

Summary: You both admit the extent of your feelings between soft teasing and pretty kisses.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Sickening, cotton candy fluff

Part I

A/N: A silly little addendum to Ambrosia.

“You look tired.” 

It took you a moment to acknowledge her words, her voice a low melody, lips brushing the curve of your ear. Your eyes had been blinking slowly, feeling the weight of sleep lulling at you for the past half hour but you were fighting to keep them open, determined not to let yourself fall asleep for fear that you would wake up and realize it had all been some sort of cruel dream. 

“I can stay up,” you replied, swallowing back a yawn that was creeping up your throat. 

Her eyes narrowed at you, scanning around your face. The room was dim, the only light coming from your desk lamp and the moonlight seeping in through the window but her eyes had no trouble admiring the contours of your face.

“Your eyes are drooping,” she said, the corners of her mouth ticking up in amusement as a pout formed on your lips.

“My eyes don’t droop,” you argued, meeting her gaze. 

“No?” Her smirk widened. 

She reached her hand up to smooth her thumb between your eyebrows, dragging over your brow bone and then the other one, melting away the tension that lingered on your face. You hummed, eyes fluttering closed at the affection. She let out a soft chuckle before you felt her lips press softly into the plush of your cheek.

“Come on, at least let’s get ready for bed?” she suggested and you opened your eyes to see hers still analyzing your face, her desire to care for you seeming more and more blatant that you were surprised you hadn’t noticed it before.

With a conceding nod, she shifted you softly off of her, standing up and pulling you up along with her. She went to rummage in your dresser for something to sleep in and you opened your door to peak out into the hallway to see if the bathroom was free. You heard your roommate shout in fear as a scream erupted distantly from the TV and you grimaced at the sudden noise puncturing the bubble of peace you had created in your room.

You turned to see Billie already moving to pull her shirt off and you turned back around quickly, shutting the door.

“You didn’t want to give me a warning?” You huffed, embarrassment seeping into you. You had seen her in a bathing suit before and on those sweltering summer nights where wearing anything more than shorts and a cami was too hot, but for some reason seeing a sliver of her torso now in the soft glow of your bedside lamp was enough to make a ferocious blush arise on your cheeks.

“I can give you a show if you want,” she bit back and you could hear the grin in her voice.

“Billie,” you whined, somewhat breathless, fighting the urge to turn around and glare at her. She let out a laugh.

“Okay, I’m done,” she said. You turned around and felt your heart squeeze.

Black sweatpants that pooled by her ankles and a large dark T-shirt that practically engulfed her whole. They were her clothes that she had left there, kept there for when she usually stayed over, and they stayed in the designated drawer of your dresser that only she was allowed to use. And you felt the soft creep of a blush crawl up your neck at the sight of her and the fact that you really couldn’t believe how blind you had been. 

“What?” she asked, her voice breaking you from your spell and you hoped she couldn’t see how hot your cheeks suddenly felt.

“Nothing,” you said back, a hint too quickly. She was already smirking again, her eyes charged with delight and mirth and a third emotion you couldn’t find the words to describe.

You opened up the top drawer of your dresser to pull out your own clothes but you could feel her heavy gaze on the side of your face. You turned to face her, clothes bunched in your hands, flush rising on your cheeks.

“I need to change,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek as you met her eyes.

She quirked an eyebrow, sly smile pulling at her pink lips.

“Do I have to turn around?” she asked and you felt silly with how bashful you suddenly felt even though barely a few minutes ago you were all over her.

“Yes,” you replied and she scrunched up her nose.

“Why?” She was practically pouting and you were starting to grow worried at how the rest of the night would go if every little thing she did had your insides setting ablaze. “We’ve always changed in front of each other.”

“Because it’s different now,” you said and she couldn’t hold back the playful roll of her eyes.

“Why, because I’m your girlfriend?” she said and you felt the wind get knocked out of your chest for a moment.

Girlfriend? Were you girlfriends now? It hadn’t even crossed your mind that this was the next step. You had just assumed after your month of panic and self-isolation that she would reject you once she finally realized why you had been acting so strange. It hadn’t crossed your mind that she would reciprocate your feelings and then want to turn your friendship into something more. 

“Are you?” you breathed, blinking owlishly at her. She blinked back at you and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Well we just confessed our love for each other . . .” she trailed off, as if suddenly realizing she might’ve jumped the gun. 

“I mean, if you’re not comfortable I totally understand. Sorry, I just, my mind is kinda moving a mile a minute right now,” she let out a sheepish laugh, moving her hand up to rub the side of her face.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “That was fast. I wasn’t even thinking,” her words were quick, mashed together in a mix of embarrassment and panic. 

“We can just, um, see how it goes?” she winced at her own words, looking like she regretted them instantly. Her hand moved over her jaw and she let out a quiet exhale of frustration.

You didn’t mean to be silent for so long or make her squirm but you were taken aback. Billie had been your friend for years. You had watched her date and fall in love and break up and mess around and date again. It was nearly impossible for people around her not to fall in love with her. But you? Billie dating you? Wanting to date you? Wanting to stop dating other people?

“I thought . . .” you struggled to find the words, “you didn’t want a serious relationship anymore?”

She grimaced at your words, her tongue poking the side of her cheek as she stared at you. She nodded and then dropped her head into her hands, groaning as she rubbed her palms into her eyes.

“That’s because you guys kept trying to set me up with people,” she confessed. She pulled her face back up, nose scrunched.

“Oh,” you murmured, eyebrows pulling together, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .” you trailed off.

She looked up at you, meeting your eyes and let out a sigh.

“No, it’s not–You didn’t do anything wrong,” she puffed out her cheeks that were starting to color a soft rose. She let out another sigh.

“It’s just, I didn’t want to date anyone–,” she started, her eyes now holding yours. The light of the moon was shining through the window, illuminating her eyes so they flashed a cold azure. You could feel her unsaid words in the air, your breath stalling in your chest as you waited for her to continue, “except you.”

She had already confessed to loving you when she couldn’t bare to separate her lips from yours but hearing this confession, the depth of her admiration, had your insides swirling.

“You stopped dating . . . because of me?” you asked, wide eyed as you stared at her.

“Yeah,” she let out a sheepish chuckle, “I mean, I tried to get over you. But you kinda . . . messed me up.”

“I messed you up?” you gasped, an airy, incredulous laugh leaving your lips as you blinked at her.

“Dude, I literally–,” she let out another groan, rubbing her face again, “You don’t get it. I’m literally so obsessed with you I couldn’t even pretend to like someone else.”

“You’re kidding,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face as you gaped at her.

“I wish I was,” she huffed.

“No, wait, because what about a couple of weeks ago, at that party on Sinclair? You left with that girl?” you questioned, narrowing your eyes at her.

“What girl?” she cocked her head.

“The one with the long dark hair and she had that cool new Coach bag I’ve been wanting and she was flirting with you all night and you seemed more than happy flirting back and then you left together. I watched you,” you said, moving your arms to cross over your chest. 

She blinked at you. Then she let out a musical laugh.

“Jordan?” she questioned, incredulously. 

“I don’t need to know her name,” you huffed, wrinkling your nose at her. She laughed again, taking a step closer to you. 

“Oh my god, you’re insane,” she muttered, but her lips were pulling into a grin and she seemed pleased at the sudden jealousy radiating off of you.

“Wow, you really know how to compliment a girl,” you snipped back and she laughed again, stepping closer until you could smell the soft swirls of her perfume.

“It’s because you are. You’re so out of touch from reality I’m genuinely shocked,” she said and you gasped at her.

“You are digging yourself a hole,” you grumbled, glaring at her grinning face but she persisted.

“Jordan is a friend who is straight and has a boyfriend,” she emphasized for good measure, “And she was giving me advice about you because you were ignoring me.”

You stared at her, mulling over her words and trying to reel in your jealousy but your mind flashed back to that party and Jordan putting her hand on Billie’s arm as she led them out of the door. 

“But you left with her.”

“No, her boyfriend and some of his friends were hanging outside so we went to get some fresh air. I never left. But when I came back in, you, however, did.”

You winced at her words. You had left shortly after that because the thought of Billie bringing another girl home made you feel so nauseous you thought you were going to puke all over that 2000s Tuscan kitchen.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “I didn’t realize.”

“You were jealous,” she said, almost gleefully, her smirk deepening.

You rolled your eyes, trying to stop the smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“Hardly,” you replied, tasting the lie on your tongue. She grinned further.

“You’re practically green,” she said and stepped close enough that you could lightly swat her arm.

“Stop,” you groaned, moving your hands to cover your face. She reached her hands out to wrap them around your wrists, softly tugging them away from your face.

“You look like the Grinch,” she added.

“Billie!”

Before you could protest further, her lips were on yours, soft and warm. Her hands were wrapped around your wrists, tugging them into her chest so she could pull you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed and you let out a dazed breath in between her ardent kisses. Your body relaxed, leaning into her touch, soaking in her affection like a flower to the sun. She smiled against your lips and then she pulled back to admire your flushed face, biting her lower lip as her eyes darted around your face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she mused, her words soothing her earlier teasing. “But you have no reason to be. I promise.”

You hummed in response, eyes flickering back to her lips before you were leaning in again. She kissed you back eagerly, hands moving from your wrists to wrap around your back, tugging you in closer. Your arms snaked around her neck, leaning your weight into her. Her lips were inebriating, moving against yours in a delicate dance that had your head feeling like TV static. One of your hands burrowed in her hair, silky strands curling around your fingers. She sighed in contentment, her breath fanning over your face, catching your lips quickly again like you would disappear if she wasn’t careful.

Slowly, your kisses softened, each one dragging out longer and longer until you were both catching your breath and she was pressing her forehead against yours.

“I would though,” she said, her voice rasping as she broke the silence, “like you to be my girlfriend. If you want.”

Your cheeks burned like fire and your stomach felt like a butterfly vivarium. You moved your hand up to cup her cheek, pulling away so you could look at her properly. Your eyes flickered between hers, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability reflecting in her glass eyes. 

“I would like that too,” you murmured. She pressed her cheek into your hand before turning her head to touch her lips to your palm.

You stayed like that for a moment, soaking in the fresh feelings, her eyes holding yours before she was leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then another, and then eight more until she was content. And you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face even if you tried.

It took everything in you to separate from her but you could see her eyes now starting to blink sleepily at you and you knew after your emotional evening you were both close to crashing.

You went to the bathroom to change your clothes, hurrying through your night routine. When you returned to the room, she was stretched on your bed, hair dangling off the side as she stared up at the ceiling seemingly lost in thought. Your heart squeezed at the sight. You had missed her making herself comfortable in your room like it was her second home. It had been painful not having her here and pretending like you were okay without her but seeing her there, as if the past month hadn’t happened, made you feel a sense of relief you didn’t realize you needed.

When she noticed you were done, she pulled herself off the bed and took a few steps towards you. She gave you a sleepy smile and pressed another few kisses to your cheek before she slipped by to the bathroom.

You sunk down onto the mattress, slipping under your comforter and resting your head against your pillow. Your eyes strayed to the other side of the bed. Billie had spent many nights there, sleeping next to you. A few times you had woken up closer than you had fallen asleep. And you used to think that your desire to scoot closer to her on the bed, feel some part of her touching you before you slept, was nothing more than your platonic love for her. But now, sifting back through those memories, you knew it had always been different. Everything had been different with her. 

None of your friends were allowed to cuddle up to you like she was. None of them could be as touchy or affectionate as she was. Only she could call you silly pet names or lean her full body weight on to you while watching a movie or have designated closet space in your room. You realized now that you had had feelings for her for so much longer than you let yourself know and now after experiencing her unfiltered affection for you, you couldn’t believe you had waited this long to face it.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice was soft, breaking you out of your thoughts. She had already turned the lamp off and shut the door and was slipping into the bed next to you. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“You,” you confessed, feeling little desire to conceal the last bits of your feelings. Tonight had been the night to lay everything out on the table.

“Oh really?” she mused, shuffling close so her face rested on the part of her pillow that was closest to yours.

You turned on your side to face her, tugging the covers up the both of you. She was fresh faced now, her skin rosy from the cold water she always used to wash her skin, plush from your moisturizer that she liked to steel that you started buying two of each time just for her. 

She reached out her hand to brush your hair back from your face, her nails lightly dragging on your skin and into your scalp, leaving a trail of tingles. 

“Just how,” you shuffled a touch closer to her until you could feel her chest touch yours and you could feel the warmth of her breath graze your lips, “I’ve had feelings for you longer than I realized.”

“Yeah?” she hummed, her eyes hooded as she stared at you, her other hand finding yours under the sheets and linking your fingers together. “How long?”

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, eyes blinking slowly at her, lulled by her soft touches and sleepy gaze. “But I think a really long time.”

She stared at you for a long moment, silent but continuing to stroke the side of your head. You wanted to know what she was thinking. You could see the thoughts whirring behind her eyes.

“I know when I realized,” she finally said, puncturing the silence. You squeezed her hand.

“When?” you asked.

She smiled at you, so softly you felt yourself turn nearly liquid under her gaze. Her eyes flickered to your lips but she stayed where she was, as if she was resisting the temptation so she could continue.

“Three years ago,” she said, eyes flickering back up to yours, “When we went to that diner at 1am and it was just the two of us. I don’t know what it was but something just clicked that night and I couldn’t see you any differently anymore.”

Her confession hung in the air and you let out a sigh, the words causing your heart to squeeze.

“That long?” you asked, an uncomfortable feeling settling low in your chest.

“Yeah,” she breathed and you wondered for a moment if she was nervous admitting it, like she hadn’t admitted it to anyone before.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize,” you murmured, a frown forming on your face. She moved her hand to swipe away the tension forming between your eyebrows.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she replied, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. “It not hard to fall in love with you.”

“But you had to hide it for this long,” you retorted, unable to stop your frown as you thought about how long she had to go acting like everything was normal when you cracked in a month.

“I wasn’t hiding it very well. I think you’re just unobservant,” she said and you let out a soft laugh at her words. 

Looking back, you realized she was right. As much as she got preferential treatment from you, you got the same from her. You were the only one she let drive her car. Only you were ever allowed to do her makeup or her skincare. Every night out she was always checking in on you and only you, making sure you were feeling well, staying sober enough to always drive you home. And only you were allowed to cross into her personal space, hug her, lay on her, or cuddle up to her in bed.

“I’m really dumb, aren’t I?” you muttered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. 

She laughed, her hand moving to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw.

“Yeah,” she affirmed and you tried to glare at her but your lips were ticking up at the sides in a smile. 

You were quiet for another breath, feeling her leg brush up against yours. 

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” you finally asked the question that had been hanging over your head.

She stared at you, face contemplative as if she wasn’t even sure she knew the answer. Her hand found a loose strand of your hair and she brushed it through her fingers, coiling it around her pointer finger, tugging on it and then letting it loosen. She used to hesitate before she would touch you, like she had to be strategic about showing glimpses of affection, but now she was being open with her fondness, seeming to take any chance she could to touch you or kiss you or stare at you unabashed.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, curling the hair back behind your ear. She let out a soft sigh, letting her thumb graze the softness of your cheek.

“There were times that I wanted to. And times I got really close,” she breathed into the quiet of the room, her voice soft and honeyed and layered with buried emotion.

“But I always got too scared. Or something would get in the way. Or I just found an excuse because . . .” She didn’t finish her sentence but you knew what she was going to say. Because you would’ve rejected her.

Your heart clenched at the thought. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done had she confessed her feelings for you before you realized your own. It might’ve affected your friendship, which would’ve torn you both apart or it might’ve made you confront your feelings much quicker, avoiding this last painful month.

“But I was okay with just staying your friend. I just wanted you in my life somehow,” she confessed, a melancholic smile pulling at her lips.

“Even when I was seeing other people?” She grimaced at the thought but gave a small nod. 

“I mean, I didn’t love it. But I wanted you to be happy. I was gonna take whatever you were willing to give me.”

You felt your eyes start to sting, overwhelmed by the sudden flush of emotions at her words. 

“Are you crying again?” she breathed, surprise woven together with concern. 

“No, just, that was so sweet. I–,” you lost your words, moving to wipe the sudden tears threatening to spill from your lashes.

She let out a melodic laugh, moving her hand to cup the back of your head and pulling you in closer so she could press her lips to your cheek. You tilted your head and she took the hint to press her lips delicately against yours.

Her kiss tasted like mint and you could smell the jasmine moisturizer on her skin. Her hand trailed from your neck down over the curve of your hip until she was tugging you ever closer, urging your leg to drape over her side, her leg fitting seamlessly in between yours. For a fleeting moment when her lips strayed from yours to find the velvet juncture of your neck, you wondered if this was going too quickly, if the awkwardness of the unknown and freshness of your relationship would catch up with you but then her mouth found a sweet spot below your jaw and your head quieted down to a pleasant buzz.

“No more tears tonight,” she murmured against your skin, dragging the edge of her canines over goose bumped skin, your heart fluttering wildly in your chest.

Her hand pressed into the small of your back to urge you even closer, getting rid of any space left that had lingered between you. You barely had time to feel anxious at these new sensations, her lips tracing your neck like a map.

“I would’ve waited even longer for you so stop worrying about it,” she mumbled, pulling back for a brief moment to gaze at you through half-lidded ocean eyes.

Your heart was so beating rapidly in your chest you wondered if she had felt your pulse against her lips.

“I don’t worry,” you quipped, voice breathy and face hot.

“No?” Her eyebrows quirked and a sly smile tugged at her lips.

“Never,” you replied, swallowing hard as you felt your insides swim and flip at her heavy gaze.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, biting down on her lower lip, her eyes flickering back to yours. “If you say so.”

You would’ve retorted, another teasing comment or sarcastic quip to ease the feeling of anticipation growing in your stomach, but her lips had found yours again and you couldn’t remember much past that.

billie masterlist ✩

[misswynters]

A Noxian Christmas

featuring. viktor x reader

apart of the 2024 Christmas Special

Snow dusted the cobblestone streets outside as you glanced out the grand windows of your family’s Noxian estate. The sharp peaks of the towers were festooned with garlands, and the entire house smelled of spiced wine and roasted chestnuts. You had gone all out for this. This was Viktor’s first Christmas with you after all. Despite his initial hesitations, you had convinced him to leave his work behind for a few days and join you in Noxus. It would be a promising and quiet celebration without the chaos of Piltover’s politics. As always.

Viktor stood near the hearth, his golden cane leaning against the arm of a plush chair. He looked slightly out of place amidst the elegance of your home. His thin frame was draped in the dark wool sweater you’d insisted he wear. The warm glow of the fire lit his face as he fiddled with the buttons, muttering something about how “such extravagance” wasn’t necessary. Some might say it was over the top, but since you grew up with it, it was different. It was family tradition after all.

“You’re still adjusting,” you teased, stepping up behind him with a cup of mulled cider. “But trust me, you’ll thank me for getting you out of that freezing lab.”

He accepted the cup with a nod, though his sharp amber eyes scanned the room as if assessing its practicality. “It is different,” he admitted, gesturing toward the enormous tree dominating the center of the room. “I have never seen such a waste of resources in one place.”

“Viktor!” You nudged his shoulder, grinning. “It’s not a waste! It’s tradition. Besides, the tree is fake.” You couldn’t believe yours, viktor criticizing your home. In your own home during christmas season. It was despicable. Unheard of even. Maybe you were being quite dramatic. Though it earned you a small, envious smile.

After dinner which consisted of a quiet but rich meal of roasted duck and Noxian delicacies, you brought Viktor to the foyer where presents waited under the glittering tree. He froze at the sight of the neatly wrapped presents, his brow furrowing. There was quite a few that had his name on them. Some were huge and others were tiny.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

“Probably not,” you admitted, sitting him down on the couch. “But I wanted to. Now, no arguments and open them.”

He sighed, but there was no real protest as he carefully undid the first present. It was a high-quality leatherbound notebook, its pages thick and unlined. Perfectly suitable for sketches and notes. His fingers ran over the cover, and you swore you saw his expression soften.

“I noticed you always run out of space in your current one,” you said.

“This is very thoughtful of you, my love. ” he said, his voice warm, if a little uncertain. “Thank you.”

“Keep going,” you urged, handing him the next one.

One by one, Viktor unwrapped the gifts: custom-fit gloves designed to protect his hands during lab work, an assortment of rare metals and components he could use for his inventions, and even a set of finely crafted gears engraved with his initials. With each gift, his protests about the extravagance softened, replaced by genuine curiosity and gratitude.

“You truly thought of everything, did you?” he said as he unwrapped a personalized toolkit. “I—this is too much.”

“It’s not too much,” you countered, sitting beside him and resting your head on his shoulder. “You give so much of yourself to your work, Viktor. To helping others. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

He tilted his head, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “My love,” he said softly, his accent deepened as he called you by your nickname. “I am not used to such kindness.”

“Well, get used to it,” you teased, reaching for his hand. “This is what being with me consists of. Over-the-top holidays and way too many gifts, more than you can count.”

Viktor chuckled, a rare sound that made your chest swell with warmth. “I suppose I should prepare myself for more of these traditions,” he said, though his tone was teasing. “Will there always be so many sweets?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, gesturing toward the tray of pastries you’d brought in earlier. “And don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking another slice of that chocolate tart.”

He flushed slightly but didn’t deny it. “It was adequate.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “Adequate? That tart is a masterpiece, Viktor.”

“I suppose I might require another slice to confirm my theory,” he replied, his tone perfectly deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. The night continued with quiet laughter and more stories shared. Viktor, ever the curious, asked endless questions about your family’s traditions. You told him about the history of the decorations, the origins of the dishes, and even a few embarrassing childhood memories that left him smirking.

As the fire crackled and the snow fell steadily outside, you leaned into Viktor’s side, feeling his arm shift to make you more comfortable. “Thank you for letting me pamper you for once,” you said softly.

He glanced down at you, his amber eyes catching the glow of the firelight. “Thank you for showing me something new,” he said. “Perhaps… I could learn to enjoy these traditions.”

“That’s the spirit,” you said, stifling a yawn. “Next year, we’ll make it even better.”

“Next year?” he asked, his tone laced with mock disbelief. “I will need a year to recover from this one.”

You laughed, swatting his arm gently. “Oh, please. You’ll miss it the moment you’re back in that freezing lab.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted quietly, his voice thoughtful. “Though I think it is not the place I will miss.”

You blinked, glancing up at him. The way he looked at you then with a rare, unguarded look. It made your heart stop for a second.

“Merry Christmas, Viktor,” you said softly.

He smiled, leaning his head against yours. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

taglist. @kaixvdenny @ekkosh @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

[jujutsukgojo]

Smelly

Alpha! Satoru gojo x Beta! reader Summary:

"He doesn’t know why he chose you. You're a beta and he’s an alpha. He's been told several times that he’s supposed to be with an omega. Yet here you are, totally having him wrapped around your finger and you don't even know it. He's supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, not some love-sick, insecure alpha trying to woo someone that isn’t designed for him."

Gojo's a newly presented alpha and is trying to court you but stinks.

tw: insecurity and fluff, a/b/o, omegaverse

The second you open the door, you feel a sharp pain in your head. Your friends, Satoru and Suguru, sit together minding their own. To the naked eye, they seem fine. However, you can feel the tension and are bothered by the overwhelming smell. You look around for a certain brunette missing from the mix. It isn’t odd for Shoko to be late to class anyway, so you don’t ask where she is.  

You go to your seat and they mumble a hello. Suguru barely looks your way while Satoru focuses on you. Or at least that is what it looks like. You can't really tell because of those insanely dark glasses.

 Geto and Gojo have always been close. Best of friends, brothers, and rivals. Peas in a pod that argue constantly and are a pain to deal with due to their clownery. Suguru’s self-righteousness and Satoru’s, well, Satoru being himself, are enough to deal with daily.  

 However, the tension between them right now will have you running to the hills if they start fighting (again). The average Tuesday but on a different and more dangerous and intense level.  

 Since you are a beta, you got what the deal was the second you came in. The two clowns are presenting their secondary genders. It is a form of puberty. It makes sense as to why Geto and Gojo have this friction. If their newfound scents are any indicator, they’re alphas getting ready to officially present.  

Even before, everyone guessed what they were, but it hadn’t fully shown itself until now. If they were to open their mouths, no doubt there would be new canines pushing through. But you know that one false move and it is an all-out brawl. 

  Alphas tend to do that when this happens. Because of how aggressive they can get, it is encouraged for alphas to stay home during this time.  

It kind of reminds you of when you get your period and become a nightmare. Hell, you even bit Suguru once. In your defense, he reached for your food so in the eyes of God you are innocent.  

Despite the fires of hell coming out of you and the bite marks they all have on them, they are still nice and understanding. Every month they give you what you want and accommodate to you.  

So, it’s only fair to be the same way with them. Help the two dumbasses get through this as much as you can.  

But oh my God, the smell.   

“You guys stink.” Before, everyone’s scent was toned down and had a newborn baby quality to it. And now? That's gone and it's on full throttle until they’re done. After this, it won’t be so bad.  

The two dumbasses look at you with bugged out eyes and open mouths. Both of their expressions are fit for a comic book or anime or something.  

“What?!” They say in unison, with a white cast over their face and their hairs raised. 

--------------------------

Later that day, everyone had to go to their rooms. It was awful. They hit their peak at the same time and it resulted in Incident Number 348. 

After class, all they had to do is run some laps. Thing One and Thing Two had calmed down and were acting a little normal about that time much to everyone's delight. Until you laughed at something Suguru said, and Satoru started growling again. All the while you were sitting on the bleachers eating crackers due to nausea from the headaches their scents give you, watching everything go down.  

  Unfortunately, being the only beta in the class means you had to go over there and calm them down with your calming scent. You walked up to them hesitantly, knowing good and damn well if you are caught in the fray, you may not make it.   

Releasing your scent as much as you could, they slowly started to relax. They took deep breaths and their growls turned lower, quieter. Finally, you smacked them on the back of their heads. It wasn’t necessary, but you felt it was. Suguru snarled at you. Out of instinct, you moved your hand away quickly. Satoru jumped on his best friend again. 

 The school and probably all of Tokyo suffered from it. Lights were going crazy, the ground rumbled, trees moved from their rightful place in the ground, and the air somehow felt expanded around you. You can’t explain it, honestly. It felt as if nothing could touch you. Yet, at the same time, it was suffocating. 

After it took several more betas to calm the two down and plushies from Yaga to punch them in the face, Yaga had given up and forced everyone to their rooms. 

Now everyone has to eat separately until their presentations ease up.  

You lay on your bed eating your crackers until your name is called. Suddenly, you hear huffing outside your door. The smell is so damn strong. You get up and slowly go to the door to peek underneath it. All you see are large bare feet walking back and forth. Getting a closer look, there are painted toes. The only person who wears that colored nail polish is Satoru. He looks awful in it. He has more of a cool tone! Neon yellow isn’t really his color. He didn’t care and said that he looked good in everything. When you were painting them, you tried to tell him he looks like a sunny side up egg, but all he said was ‘yummy’ and asked you to please eat him.

You nearly killed him when he wiggled his toes in your face.  

 “What’s he doing? How did he get out?” You whisper. The smell is getting stronger as he goes against your door, rubbing himself on it.  

The headache is back with a vengeance and it’s making you nauseous and dizzy. That’s the drawback with these headaches lately. They make you so damn dizzy and sick.  

 You eat the last cracker. Groaning as you lay on the floor, you say, “Crud, I'm out of crackers.”  

He stops walking and faces the door. You poke his toe with your finger. He jumps from shock, which in turn makes you smile. Finally, he leaves. Your phone begins to ring and shows Yaga’s name. In a gruff voice, he lets you know that it’s time for dinner.  

Apparently, betas and the unpresented eat together. Honestly, that’s okay with you. Anything to get away from the overwhelming scents.  

Entering the room, you see only five students. Three being your upperclassman and two being your juniors. You grab your lunch and head to the table where Yu and Kento sit. The two usually hang together. Like Satoru and Suguru, they’re rarely a part.  

  “Why do you smell like that?” Yu asks. He shoves a big chunk of food in his mouth. He chews noisily and it for some reason sounds happy? 

“Explain.” 

He gets closer. “I don’t know? It’s hurting my head though.” He says with his mouth full. You forgot that he told you that he’s a beta.  

Kento scolds him for his chewing and tells him to have manners. Kento is a stiff emo-looking kid. One day he’ll look back at his hair and fashion choices and grimace. You hope that you both live that long to see it. 

You pat Yu’s back and apologize for his discomfort that seems to be waning. Kento chews his sandwich and listens to you as you explain how you might’ve ended up smelling like this. Yu agrees that it must be it. The cool like fragrance can only belong to one person. And that fucker rubbed himself all over your door.  

 Nanami, who still has a year to present, sighs. Before you can ask what he means by it, the bell rings. 

-------------------------------------

 Now a few days later, the class is somewhat back to normal. You enter the classroom, on your desk are several of your favorite boxes of crackers stacked up on top of each other with a bottle of water next to them. 

You ask Shoko, who still reeks but to a lesser degree, who the culprit is. She shrugs and bites her pencil. A habit she has had since you met her years ago. Thankfully, she’s back to her old self again. Stinky, but her old, sarcastic, self.  

You scrunch your nose.  “Ew.” She glares and throws her wet pencil at you. Ignoring her, you walk towards your desk.  

The closer you get, the stronger it is. They’re minty and woody, it is thick practically dripping off it like honey. The fragrance is familiar and comforting. A scent that you favor more than anyone else’s. Years you have known it and become welcomely accustomed to it.  

It is bold, unique, and normally so smooth. All so distinctively Satoru, who rubbed himself all over your door, crackers, seat, and water bottle. Despite your admiration, it is hard to take in since this whole thing started.  

“Ugh.” 

You only see a flash of white from the corner of your eye. Turning around to see it, it disappears. Shoko sighs at you and tells you to pack the crackers. Since then, Satoru has been acting even more strangely than his usual self, and that’s saying something. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Everyone stares at you with a deadpan face and a smack to their foreheads. 

---------------------

Satoru makes another joke in class causing Shoko to groan. He doesn’t care about her reaction. He knows Suguru will laugh, but will you? Ever since he met you, he held a torch for you. Now that he’s a presented alpha, he is sure he can prove himself to you despite what traditionalists say. All he has to do is impress you enough to look his way! Not to look at him as a friend, but as a lover. Someone who can protect and comfort you. Someone who can make you laugh and have fun! That he can be generous and can provide, so you don’t have to worry. That's why he left the crackers and the water for you. To show you that he’s capable.

 His chest flutters when he hears your laugh. It's cute when you snort and how you get embarrassed about it. He loves your genuine smile; he’d know it anywhere. He adjusts in his seat to face you more and gets ready to tell another joke when Yaga intervenes. “Gojo, enough.” 

Damn it Yaga. 

  Suguru pokes his leg and smirks. If anyone knows how he feels, it’s his best friend. Satoru’s never been exactly subtle about his feelings towards you. Not when he likes to rub his cheek against yours to familiarize himself and ultimately, mark what’s his. 

  He doesn’t know why he chose you. You're a beta and he’s an alpha. He's been told several times that he’s supposed to be with an omega. Yet here you are, totally having him wrapped around your finger and you don't even know it. He's supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, not some love-sick, insecure alpha trying to woo someone that isn’t designed for him.  

Hell, he might never have the time for you. The two of you may die. 

The thought hurts him immensely. He can’t imagine not being with you. Growing old with you, having a few babies maybe, teaching the next generation as he hopes to. Seeing you frown whenever he gets into trouble and encourages others to do it, either of you coming home to each other knowing you’d be okay. To make love and for you to know that he can be generous and passionate. He’d make sure you never got tired of feeling him.  

Hell, he is Satoru Gojo. Wielder of Limitless and Six Eyes, the first in hundreds of years. The strongest sorcerer alive. A man who has defied fate and made his own. If anyone can accomplish the impossible, it’s him. Satoru Gojo will have time for you. He'll have that dream of his and make you the happiest person alive.  

All he has to do is show you that.  

After class, comes training. This is his moment to show you just how strong he is. He has sparred with you before, with you always landing on your ass and him making the comment about how he’d kiss it to make it better. Of course, it wouldn’t be complete without Suguru and Shoko in the back groaning. You always laugh when he says it. You laugh whenever he has tried to flirt with you.  

  He was not joking.  

This time, he went against Suguru. Even though he knows he is the strongest, Suguru is still a challenge. Suguru’s unwavering determination makes him strong. Satoru watches you from the corner of his eye. He sees you take on Shoko with a smirk. Shoko is not the best fighter. She's fierce and useful, but you are more experienced and have finesse.  

   You kick at her and she gets caught in it. If there is anything a beta can do, it’s kick the hell out of somebody. Not even he would want to get caught in that.  

He swells with pride. Not that his friend got hit or anything. It is because of you. Now all he has to do is show you how strong he is and not just because he says so.  

  Suguru notices his distraction and follows where he is looking. Satoru does not like that look on his best friend’s face. That is when Suguru calls out your name. You send Shoko down, winning the fight. “Yeah?” 

  Suguru comes up with the bright idea of teasing. All it takes is one wink your way and the newly presented alphas are at each other’s throats. Shoko stands up with the help of your hand and just sighs.  

 Satoru is furious. He knows Suguru is just messing with him. He knows that Suguru doesn’t feel about you the way he does. If anything, Suguru thinks of you as a sister. How many times did he protect you or pay for your things, ending it with a pat on your head. Or a gentle scolding that a big brother would give to his precious sister. It drove you up a wall when Suguru did that. It always bothered you how he felt the urge to do those things, to baby you.  

  So, he doesn’t know why he’s letting his best friend get to him.  

After the fight, Satoru stands tall. It was decided by Yaga that he had won. Satoru turns to see you but you are gone along with Shoko. Damn.  

Suguru snorts at Satoru’s expression and swipes his long legs from under him.  

------------------------

Satoru isn’t done yet. An alpha’s gotta prove himself, alright? He tried to show you he can provide and that he’s strong enough to protect you. And anyone who passes your door knows that Satoru claimed that spot. You haven't noticed his attempts yet. Emphasis on yet. 

 He has a couple more tricks. What if he told Shoko to encourage you to go out with them? Maybe you just have to see more clearly, you’d understand that you’re his.   

He runs to Shoko to tell her what her job is. Is that a little demanding? Yes, usually it is if it were a different situation. This is his life we’re talking about. This is about you! 

You, who hangs the stars at night; the one who shines brighter than any sun and is more enchanting than all of the moons. The little dances you do whenever you taste anything good is more graceful than the sway of falling leaves in autumn. When you stretch out your arm for everyone to see your thumbs up to let people know, him know you’re okay is better than the earth sprouting out a new tree to show that there is hope for all.

He doesn’t care about that because you are okay.  

He’s positive that the reason God had to rest was because he used his energy creating you. The Big Guy was tired from creating such a masterpiece. 

Shoko looks at him bewildered as he says all of this out loud. When he’s finished pleading his case as to why she should go up to you and ask if you want to hang out, she smacks her head against the table. 

“Is it too hard to just tell her? What’s the harm in that?” 

Satoru gasps at Shoko’s suggestion. “She’ll know then! I don’t want to tell her, dummy!” Shoko throws up her hands. “Doesn’t anyone wonder about my problems?” 

“Oh my God, Shoko! Right now we’re talking about me!” He whines.  

Before she chews him out, she sees him look out the window. Peeking, she sees you on the grass, enjoying the sun. The look in Satoru’s eyes is something she will never see in any painting. If only you turned around and looked up at the window and saw him. Surely, there wouldn’t be any need for all of this.  

She hopes one day she will have that look and he better help her too.  

“When the time comes, you better have my back too.”  

“Huh?” He didn’t even notice that he was staring at you in awe. She smiles and agrees with his plan before he can continue his worship. He pets her head and says, “Whatever.” 

Shoko smacks him away from her and tells him to get ready for his date.  

---------------------

How she managed to get you to agree, he doesn’t know. What he does notice is that you’re swaying too much for his liking and resting your head on random stands like the rail on the stairs. Satoru, not just as your future baby-daddy slash husband, but your friend. 

 Unfortunately, Suguru shares that same concern about your wellbeing. And Satoru does not like that at all.  

  “Something’s wrong, you think?” His friend asks. Again, Satoru knows that his best friend the Man Bun feels nothing for you. He can’t help but feel a little bothered by it though. He's freshly presented and is out of the worst part, the rut, but the hormones are still a little high.  

  He’ll repent for it later.  

“Hm, yeah. Of course, I'd know.” He snaps.  

“Satoru, are you okay?” Satoru whips his head around to see his friend. “Yeah, just stop ruining my shot.” He harshly whispers. 

Suguru looks at him confused. Innocently, he asks, “Does she know that?” 

Satoru growls and feels fire burn in his chest. He does not like that at all. Satoru knows he’s being stupid, but he can’t help it right now. He hears you moan (and not in the way that he wants to hear you make one day) and abandons his friend. 

  Once he leaves to attend you, he barely hears Suguru’s ‘what’d I do?’. Satoru can’t focus on him right now, though.  

 “Here, lean on me.” You loop your arm through his. Satoru is screaming on the inside. You smell so good, oh my God.  

Like something fresh and lilies. He can’t place it but it’s so calming and beautiful. Not at all like an omega’s dessert table scent. Don't get him wrong, he loves sweets. But you? There’s just something about how you smell that makes him want to press his face on you, like one of those laundry detergent commercials that sniff clean clothes.  

   You'd smack the shit out of him though.  

Play it cool, play it cool.   

“You okay?”  

“Yeah, I'm good.” He knows better though. You’re not looking at him and are rubbing your stomach. “Ha, I think I'm hungry.”  

  The burger joint is set up like an American fifty's burger joint. Red, black, and white, places themselves all over the room. White and black tiles, red booths and tables, an old jukebox, a counter that has probably been there for years, and pink dressed waitresses that have roller-skates that they probably hate. 

   A lady sits them down at a table. Satoru practically pushes Shoko out of the way so he can sit in front of you. 

Unfortunately for Satoru, he has always had a short attention span. He is supposed to pay attention to you, and only you. Suguru and Shoko were just for decoration and to make it all easy for the two of you.  

  What sucks is that he totally forgotten that it is easy to fall into conversation with his best friend. Stupid Suguru.  

Because he’s happy, his natural scent is being pushed out. It's a natural occurrence. And with him just recently presenting, his scent is probably taking up the whole place, along with Suguru’s who is responding just as much when the food arrives.  

The food arrives and is placed in the middle. He knows that you like fries and he puts his on your plate. You like to steal his anyway, but this will surely prove that he is generous and kind.  

Satoru’s eyes flick over to you for a second.  

Your elbow is on the table and hand is on your forehead. There is a frown on your pretty face and you’re completely ignoring him. Satoru’s pride is hurt a little. Shit, he didn’t mean to ignore you! He just forgot! Surely you remember that he’s got the attention span of a three-year-old, right? 

  He sucks in his lips and hopes you at least eat his fries. At least his effort won’t go to waste completely. The table quiets down and eats. They wait for you to take a bite of the fries, of Satoru’s fries. He's embarrassed that they are all witnessing his courting and possible rejection, though he is happy that they’re rooting for him.  

  You take a bite of his fries and smile.  

Yes, yes, yes!   

Satoru’s smile doesn’t leave his face.  

That is all you eat. The rest of the meal goes on rowdy as always and Satoru once again forgot about you. You barely talked and when you did it was slow and you did have a small smile on your face.  

  Now it is time to pay. Satoru sports a smug smirk. Now is the time to show you that he is kind, generous, and a provider. He whips out his card to the lady. Satoru doesn’t see you sway back and forth and have your hand over your mouth and eyes.  

  He isn’t hearing Shoko’s concerned whispers of your name. 

As the card goes through, he pushes his scent out again. Satoru looks back just in time to see you book it out of the diner shriveling your nose. He thinks back to when he was happy before and you had that same facial expression. The disgusted face of smelling his scent. The only difference is, is that you didn’t cover your eyes and run before.  

-----------------------

Satoru paces in his room. He still has a chance before you absolutely reject him. For the first time, he begins to feel insecure. He can't believe he didn't notice it before. His advances to you are going ignored because of his smell. 

He couldn’t prove to you that he could protect you or that he's strong since you left, you wrinkled your cute nose at the crackers, and the cause of that was how he smelled. You laughed at his jokes in class. That is one of his scores, but you were two seats away from him though. 

 A scent from an alpha is a big deal! And...you don’t like his. An alpha’s scent tells a lot about them. Not liking his is a huge blow to his very being.  

An idea pops in his head. He could practically see the light from the light bulb. It is a bit unconventional method and is insulting, but it is also his last hope. He's done everything an alpha’s supposed to do. Show his strength for you to know he can protect you, be funny and smart (he got all of Yaga’s questions right), be generous, kind, and provide. This is the only thing left.  

  “I’ll just change it!” It hurts his feelings by doing this, but you are worth it.  

-

Two days later, he walks next to you wearing a patch on his shoulders, close to his scent gland. If he were to put it directly on it, it would be too obvious.  

Unfortunately, he can’t tell if the patch is fully working. Satoru can tell that there is a slight difference, though. He hopes it is just toning it down rather than changing it. 

Satoru watches the birds as they fly by outside of the window. He sees one in particular he thinks you’d like and goes to tell you about it in time to see you trip on air.  

Satoru grabs on to the Spirit of the Lord to not laugh. He catches you by your arm. “Oopsie daisy!”  

You give him a smile. His heart is soaring right now. Satoru has shown you that he can protect you.  

“Thank you, Satoru.” You temporarily lean your head onto his shoulder.  

Satoru internally screeches. He’s liking this a lot.   

Today, you decided to walk with him. Him. Alone! The two of you, walking together, alone! He couldn’t believe his luck when he was waiting at your door, and you willingly went with him when he asked you. 

He's got a pep in his step now. 

You hum a little. Humming is something you’d do at the most random times, he noticed. He never complains though. It's sweet and gentle, like a secret between you and him. Taking a deep breath, he notices you slowing down. Immediately he stops when you do, not willing to leave you behind. Coming close to him, much to his delight, you sniff him. Involuntarily, he leans in.  

“Why do you smell like that?” Your nose twitches.  

His eyes bug out behind his glasses and his heart and mouth drop. He swears his glasses crack.  

Satoru failed again. Instantly, a distressed scent radiates off him. The scent patches aren’t working against it since it’s so strong. You look at him shocked. Ashamed, he leaves quickly with his head down. He's so embarrassed. Nothing he did has worked. Trying to change his scent is such a big deal too and it didn’t even work. 

“Wait, Satoru!”  You call out. He doesn’t turn around to see you try to chase after him.  

___________________________________

You tell Shoko what happened. She slams her head down repeatedly. “Hey! Stop that!” You place your hand on the table to block her from injury.  

“Y/n, for the love of God, Satoru is trying to court you, you idiot!” 

“What?” 

She explains that all of the things are what an alpha does. Shows that they can provide, that they are talented, smart, strong. All the things that a partner could want. She tells you to imagine those birds on Animal Planet that try to woo someone. And because of your reaction to his smell before, he even changed that for you.  

  You feel so guilty. Honestly, you had no idea.  

Now thinking about it, he has always been like that. Satoru always pays special attention to you. Satoru is just so special as a person that it is impossible that he could take a shine to anyone. Especially someone as lowly as you. 

“He’s just...he’s Satoru and I'm just me.” Everyone thinks so.  

“And you’re pretty cool. Dumb, but cool. Like, seriously stupid.” She sighs tiredly. “Now go get him. No one wants to deal with a sulking Satoru.” 

 You thank Shoko and squeeze her hand. Without saying another word, you take off out the door. Yaga calls your name but you don’t care.  

In your room, you see the fluffy throw blanket on your bed. Remembering the etiquette of alphas and omegas, you scent it to the best of your ability.  

  Knocking on his door, you wait anxiously. It wasn’t your intention to hurt him. An alpha’s instincts are foreign to you. Betas don’t really do what they do. It isn’t necessary. If he gave you flowers, chocolate, or even a teddy bear, it would have been easier to understand.  

Or just plain saying something.  

You are always soft towards Satoru. He would be playful and always be beside you, you give him sweets when his mother tries to cut him off of them. One time you shared your lunch and a little dessert with him when he was hungry. And now he expects to share every time. Whenever you bring it to school, he pops up out of nowhere. And you look forward to that. 

 He’s just... out of your league. What could he want with you? He's so beautiful, smart, funny even if people don't think so. He's talented and caring. 

Are you attracted to him? Definitely so and always have been. But never did you think he would return the feelings. Looking back, you should have known. You were so focused on your insecurity that you didn't realize that he didn't care about all of that. 

  “Satoru? Please open up.” The distress smell is so strong. Instinctually, you release a calming scent, hoping that it would take the edge off at least a little.  

You crack open the door.  

In his room he lays in his den. His very large bed with a dark blue canopy that encloses him. There are shelves in his room with various items on them, most of them being Digimon items and some nick knacks he collected. There are some pictures and even memorabilia of his classmates. You notice some of you even. A picture he must have taken of you outside without your knowledge. You barely remember that day, honestly. Let alone him taking a picture of you. 

  He had claimed the entire room. The bed is a secret place for him though.  

  After you walk in, you close the door. “Satoru, can we talk?” 

He says nothing. His face is red and he wraps himself with his arms. Walking up to his bed, you know better than to enter it without his permission. Instead, you toss him the blanket so you can remain at a safe distance. “I’m sorry, Satoru. Can I explain?” 

He looks at it and takes it. “Alright.” 

“Okay. As a beta, my nose is more sensitive than yours. When you guys were presenting, it was hard on me. You don’t smell at all when it’s normal. The only reason why I reacted is because it was so strong. Other than that, I like your scent. Today, I noticed that you covered it and I just wondered why it was like that. That's all, I promise. ” 

“Lie.” He turns away from you, still gripping your blanket. “I promise, Satoru. That is the only reason. I like your normal smell, I swear. Don’t cover it anymore, okay?” He doesn't look at you. You're afraid this is it. Even if you missed your shot with him, the biggest fear is that he is gone from your life. 

You aren't giving up. “And I'm not rejecting you either! I just didn’t understand what was going on. You can even ask Shoko!” 

 You approach him slowly. He side eyes you. “Forgive me I'm just stupid.” He ignores you still. Humming, you look around and say, “You have a very nice den, Satoru. It’s comfy, I like it.” It is obviously a ploy to ease into his good graces. 

Observing your surroundings, you didn’t see the smug smirk on his face. He rearranged it this morning. He's proud of his work now.  

  “Thank you.” Is all he says. You bravely walk a few steps more. He eyes you the entire time. 

“Are we okay?” Suddenly, he yanks on your wrist and drags you into his tiny den. He places you to the side and faces you. The pillows are soft and warm like him. You have to admit, this is the softest thing ever.  

 He tucks you in with your own blanket, making you two very close. “You are kinda stupid.” 

 His breath hits your face and his eyes look so deeply into yours. The blue eyes glow in the dark. They’re intimidating to some but to you, they’re not. Years ago, when you discovered that the famous Six Eyes actually glow in the dark, you couldn’t help but laugh.  

“Yeah. I need all sorts of protection from you,” You giggle. After a few moments, you ask him, “What does this mean, Satoru?”  

Giving a tiny smile, he shrugs. “Whatever you want. I know what I want, but I'm waiting for you to answer.”  

  “People are going to talk. It'll be hard too. Are we ready?” He gets even closer, forehead on forehead. “I am. C'mon! I’m the strongest after all.” 

You roll your eyes and smile. “Alright then. As long as you know your ruts wil-” 

“I know all of this. And I truly don’t care.” He kisses your head. You can’t help but feel warm. “We’re young.” You say. 

“I’ll wait for you.” 

“The future will be rough.” 

“Isn’t it always? Nothing is ever guaranteed to be smooth, shiny, and soft, other than my hair, my little library book. So, don’t worry.” 

“What the fuck? Your hair? Library book?” 

“One, because my hair is smooth-feel it, please, oh my God-and yes! You're bookmarked, get it?” 

“I hate you-oh it is!” You run your fingers through his white hair. His hair is thick and feels like he gets treatments or something. You massage his head and watch as he closes his eyes. Gently, his scent covers you like a light blanket as he purrs in contentment. It's lighter than it once was and no longer giving you any headaches. 

His arms are wrapped around you in a tight embrace. His cold ass feet rub against you making you chuckle. “Fucking icicles.” 

“They like-like you though.” He playfully nibbles on you. You squirm around trying to get away from his cold clown feet as he ‘nom nom’s as he bites. 

“With that ugly ass nail polish.” You aren’t wrong. 

“Get out.” Satoru pushes you out of the bed.  

[sparrowlucero]

Instead of discourse about showrunners and lesbians and whatever, I'm gonna bring a different type of discourse...whats ur fav and least Dr Whomst monsters. Hard mode: only the practical ones.

ok so I do like all the obvious ones, I like the angels, I like the vashta nerada, I like the not-things, I like the eternals. Here's a few deeper cuts (focusing on the tv show specifically):

they peaked with these maggots. they rock. pretty sure they're made with taxidermy? really great puppetry. I really like this thing:

what a cool design for this kind of forgotten midseason episode.

this is such a fun design for a langolier-type monster. I love how their crest and tail gives them the silhouette of a grim reaper

The 60s cybermen rock. I feel like they're hesitant to use them often in the modern show because they do look very 1960s but I think there's something really uncomfortable and evocative about the cloth faces that's lost when they're cool metallic robots. The mix between looking like an old diving suit and the implication of there being a chopped up person inside is gnarly and I love it. Simple, creepy, iconic design.

My favorite design in the show is probably this:

The 456 from the spinoff series torchwood. They didn't need the puppet to emote or move a ton since it spends the entire season in a little tank obscured in mist, so they just went crazy with the design and made it really bizarre looking. Extremely top tier alien. Anyways, negative. I really don't like this satan. the satan kind of sucks. the impossible planet is great atmospheric sci fi horror; every image of build up in it is haunting and leagues ahead of the climactic scene where he meets the satan. It singlehandedly kind of kills the vibe.

Personally I would have just kept the actual appearance off screen, just have it be eyes in the dark or something. Apparently they also tossed around the idea that it would end up being a normal little girl who was chained up in the cave and I think that would have visually fit the rest of the episode better.

I'm really not big on the modern design for the sea devils (the green one on the right). I think the classic ones clearly took a lot of direct influence from real animals and generally is a pretty thoughtfully realized design, the modern ones seem like they were first and foremost using the classic ones for reference and didn't quite capture the nuance of the design. Sad, as I would really like to see design for these guys with modern puppetry.

I think this is actually a pretty contentious opinion but the work of the specific studio who headed this redesign generally wasn't my favorite. Apparently there was some sort of major, semi public falling out between the fx studio that had been working on the show since 2005 and the people who started running the show in 2018, and they were briefly replaced with a much less experienced studio. No hate to them of course (I think this was actually their first job like, ever, and a lot of the work was done in crunch time?) but the difference did stand out to me:

[novaursa]

Legacy (alliances)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Events of the story and timeline don't match canon events.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: by his design

- Next part: golden roses

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

A quiet, breathless shudder escapes your lips as you find your release, your fingers gripping Tywin’s shoulders as he reaches his own peak. His gaze never wavers from yours, a rare flicker of satisfaction playing over his features as he watches the pleasure ripple through you. Yet, the look in his eyes is not just one of simple satisfaction or pride—it’s something deeper, something restrained, as though he is pleased with not only the moment but with your very surrender to it.

In the silence that follows, you lie close to him, your breathing steadying as you study his face, the sharp angles softened slightly in the dim candlelight. He still has that calculating look, one he wears as naturally as his armor. His fingers trail idly down your arm, possessive yet thoughtful, a hand resting over yours in a rare moment of calm.

“You know,” you murmur, your voice a low hum in the quiet chamber, “when I was a princess, there was a time I never imagined I’d end up here. Lying beside you, in the Tower of the Hand, talking to you… like this.”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “You are still a princess,” he replies, his tone matter-of-fact. “Your titles did not disappear with your family’s fortunes.”

“True,” you concede, tracing a finger over the silk sheets. “But in King’s Landing, a princess without a court is little more than a name. A reminder of things lost.” Your words carry a hint of wistfulness, though you mask it quickly, refusing to let any sign of vulnerability linger.

Tywin studies you for a moment, his gaze more penetrating than before, as though he’s seeing something hidden beneath your words. “Loss can shape a person more than power ever could,” he says quietly, surprising you with the edge of understanding in his voice. “It gives them resilience, purpose. That is something I’ve seen in you, long before this.”

You turn to him, caught off guard by his words. “Long before?” A slight smile tugs at your lips, and you search his face for any sign of jest. “Tywin Lannister… were you watching me even back then?”

He regards you with a level expression, the faintest hint of a smirk in his eyes. “Once, perhaps. It was at the tourney in Harrenhal. You wore a blood red ribbon in your hair, and I remember thinking that the color suited you—a rare splash of Valyrian fire among the grey stones.”

You blink, surprised by his recollection. The memory is distant, barely a moment in time to you, but to hear Tywin recall it so vividly brings it back with surprising clarity. “I… had no idea you noticed me then,” you reply softly, still processing this revelation. “It was such a small thing—a ribbon, barely more than a whim.”

“Small things often reveal the most,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “That ribbon marked you as a Targaryen among the gathered nobility. You knew you were watched, judged for every step, every turn of your head. And yet… you wore it anyway, with pride.”

A strange warmth stirs in your chest at his words, and you look away for a moment, uncertain of how to respond. The memory of that day returns to you—the weight of expectation, the pressure to embody the Targaryen legacy even as a child. That he remembers such a detail is unexpected, yet somehow feels like a silent acknowledgment of the strength you carried even then.

“I never thought anyone would remember such a detail,” you admit quietly, turning back to him. “Especially not you.”

He tilts his head, his hand still resting against yours, the faintest shadow of a smile crossing his lips. “I remember many things others overlook. Strength often lies in moments that seem insignificant to those who lack vision.”

There’s a certain vulnerability in his words, one you hadn’t anticipated, and it feels almost like peeling away a layer of his armor, revealing something beneath the hardened exterior. The silence between you stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable; rather, it feels like a rare understanding, one built on a foundation of shared experience, of knowing what it is to bear a legacy that others will never fully grasp.

“You’ve always been watching, then,” you say, your tone carrying a note of irony but also gratitude. “Even when I didn’t know.”

“Yes,” he says simply, his voice carrying an unmistakable finality. “And you would do well to remember that.” He leans closer, his lips brushing your forehead in a rare, quiet gesture that feels almost like reverence.

You lie together in silence, the weight of past and present mingling in the quiet chamber. For once, words seem unnecessary, replaced instead by an understanding that binds you in a way deeper than duty, or legacy—an unspoken recognition of the strength that has brought you both to this moment.

Cersei swept into her father’s chambers, her expression tightly controlled but her posture rigid with frustration. She held a letter in her hand, the Tyrell rose seal already broken, but Tywin could see her attention was barely on the parchment. Instead, her gaze flickered between him and the room around them, as though searching for something unsaid.

“Father,” she greeted, her tone polite but strained. She lifted the letter. “We’ve received word from Highgarden. The Tyrells will be arriving in the capital soon. No doubt with their usual parade of feigned grace and ambition.”

Tywin, seated behind his desk, merely nodded. “Good. We have plans to discuss with them, particularly in light of the recent… changes within the court.” He regarded her, his gaze unwavering. “I expect you to welcome them graciously, Cersei. Whatever differences we may have, our unity must appear unbreakable.”

Cersei’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with resentment. “I hardly think the Tyrells are what you’re most interested in discussing with me.” She took a step closer, her expression sharpening. “One moon, Father. One moon since you married her, and you still haven’t thought to explain yourself to your own children.”

Tywin’s face remained impassive, his gaze calm but cold. “There is nothing to explain, Cersei. I’ve made a decision that benefits our house. This marriage is a part of a plan long in place, one that serves the interests of House Lannister and consolidates our strength. That’s all you need to understand.”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed, her voice laced with bitterness. “A plan long in place? A decision that’s best for our house?” She let out a hollow laugh. “This was a choice that stripped your own family of dignity. You never once consulted me—or Jaime, for that matter. You took it upon yourself to marry a woman a little older than your own children, and you call it strategy.”

Tywin’s gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Enough, Cersei,” he warned, his tone steely. “I am the head of this family, and my decisions are not up for debate. This marriage was not some impulsive choice. It was carefully considered, and I expect you to respect that.”

But Cersei’s anger only grew, her voice rising as she held her ground. “Respect? Respect is earned, Father, and you’ve given us none.” She took a step forward, her face a mask of barely controlled fury. “Tell me, what is it that you truly intend with this marriage? Do you plan to replace all of us with a new brood of dragonspawn?” Her words dripped with venom, and her fists clenched at her sides.

Tywin’s expression darkened, a rare flash of anger crossing his normally impassive face. He rose slowly from his seat, his gaze fierce as he regarded his daughter. “Mind your words, Cersei,” he said, his voice low and cold. “You are speaking of your family, of a marriage that has brought strength to House Lannister. Any children that may come of it will bear my name, and they will be Lannisters in every way that matters.”

Cersei scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. “Lannisters?” she echoed, her voice filled with contempt. “They may bear your name, Father, but they will never truly be Lannisters. They will be Targaryens, dragon-blooded children that you think will be your legacy. But what of us? What of your own blood, the children you raised?”

Tywin’s gaze was icy, his voice as unyielding as iron. “This marriage has nothing to do with replacing anyone. It has everything to do with securing the future of our house. You, Jaime, and Tyrion remain my children. But House Lannister must adapt, or it will fall. This union is a part of that adaptation.”

Cersei shook her head, her face a mixture of fury and disbelief. “Adaptation?” she repeated, her voice laced with bitterness. “You think you can replace us with a new line, with heirs who will carry both the lion and the dragon? You’ve sacrificed our family’s dignity, cast us aside like pieces on a game board. You’ve betrayed us, Father.”

Tywin’s face tightened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger. “Betrayed you?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low. “I have done everything for this family, everything to ensure our survival. This marriage is not a betrayal—it is a means to ensure our future, to strengthen our influence. Your personal grievances mean nothing in the face of that.”

Cersei’s gaze was fierce, defiant, as she met his anger with her own. “You may be able to convince yourself of that, Father, but don’t expect me to accept it so easily.” She turned on her heel, her voice filled with disdain. “But remember this—whatever children come of this marriage, they will always be a reminder of your betrayal. And they will never be true Lannisters.”

With that, she stormed out of the chamber, leaving Tywin standing alone, his expression dark and thunderous. 

The midday sun filtered softly through the latticework above, casting delicate patterns over the table where you and Sansa sat, enjoying an array of treats brought from the kitchens—warm honeycakes, fresh fruits, and spiced wine, filling the air with a comforting sweetness. The courtyard was serene, tucked away from the rest of the Red Keep, making it a perfect spot for an intimate respite from the world of politics and intrigue that surrounded you both.

Sansa was laughing, a light sound you hadn’t heard in far too long, as she recounted memories of her younger siblings at Winterfell, her blue eyes bright with a warmth that softened her usual wariness.

“And Arya,” she chuckled, reaching for a honeycake, “she once hid my favorite dress because she didn’t want me to go to a feast. She thought it would keep me in my room.” She shook her head, a fond smile lingering on her lips. “She always found ways to cause trouble, but I think… I think she just wanted me near her.”

You smiled warmly, indulging in the sweetness of the moment. “It sounds like Arya,” you said softly. “A spirit like hers isn’t easily subdued, even in the darkest times. She is—”

Before you could finish, a familiar, almost ethereal voice cut through the quiet. “Forgive the interruption, my ladies.”

You both looked up to see Varys approaching, his expression as smooth and enigmatic as ever. Draped in his soft robes, he moved with practiced grace, a smile touching his lips as he regarded you and Sansa, his hands folded neatly before him.

“Lord Varys,” you greeted with polite surprise, inclining your head slightly. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Sansa’s smile faded a bit, replaced by her usual guarded expression, but she nodded respectfully. “Lord Varys.”

Varys bowed his head, his eyes glinting with a knowing warmth. “I hope I am not intruding on a much-needed respite. It’s rare to find such a lovely gathering here in the Red Keep,” he remarked, his gaze flitting between the two of you as though he were savoring a rare sight.

“You are welcome to join us,” you offered, gesturing to the treats spread on the table. “We were simply enjoying the sun and a few memories of Winterfell.”

“Ah, Winterfell,” Varys murmured, his tone wistful as he settled into a seat. “A place I have heard much about but never had the privilege of visiting. I imagine it must hold memories worth savoring, especially in times like these.”

Sansa glanced at him warily, but she nodded. “Yes, Lord Varys. Winterfell was… home. More than this place could ever be.” She looked away, her gaze distant for a moment before she focused back on you, seeking reassurance in your presence.

Varys inclined his head, a hint of understanding in his eyes. “It is said that even in the darkest of places, memories can serve as a lantern, a light to guide us forward.” He looked to you, a subtle yet meaningful gaze holding yours for a fraction longer. “And we should always remember where we come from… for it often shapes where we are going.”

You felt the weight of his words, the unspoken support woven delicately within them. “Wise words, Lord Varys,” you replied, matching his tone with a subtle smile. “It’s a reminder worth heeding.”

Varys’s smile softened, and he looked to Sansa with a gentleness that was both unexpected and sincere. “Lady Sansa, you have endured much, but you carry yourself with strength that rivals the greatest of houses. The North must be proud of you.”

Sansa shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond, but she managed a soft, “Thank you, my lord,” her cheeks faintly flushed.

“And you, my lady,” Varys continued, turning his attention back to you. “You have navigated your return to King’s Landing with a grace that even the most seasoned courtiers would struggle to match. It is no easy task, yet you make it appear effortless.”

You held his gaze, sensing the deeper meaning beneath his words. “One does what one must, Lord Varys,” you replied, your voice calm but resolute. “Especially when one’s duty calls for it.”

He nodded slowly, his expression reflective. “Indeed. But strength such as yours often calls for more than mere duty. It demands resilience, an unwavering spirit. Qualities I believe are not so easily subdued.”

The words hung in the air, and you felt the weight of his support—a silent promise, hidden beneath his careful phrasing. It was rare for Varys to speak so openly, and even rarer still for him to display such subtle encouragement.

Sansa, watching the exchange with quiet curiosity, glanced between the two of you, her unease momentarily softened by the unspoken alliance she sensed but didn’t fully understand.

Varys rose gracefully, bowing his head. “I will leave you both to your midday respite. But know, my ladies, that even in a place like King’s Landing, there are those who watch over… with genuine intentions.”

He met your gaze one last time, a faint glimmer of something almost reassuring in his eyes, before he took his leave, his robes sweeping softly as he disappeared down the garden path.

As silence settled over the table once more, you looked to Sansa, her expression a mixture of confusion and awe. “Lord Varys…” she whispered, her brows drawn together. “What did he mean by all that?”

You smiled softly, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “He means that even here, in the heart of intrigue and deceit, there are still people we can trust. Allies can be found in the most unexpected places.”

The throne room was bathed in the stark light of mid-afternoon, as you entered, you could feel the weight of the room’s history settle over you, memories of your family lingering in every corner. The Iron Throne loomed at the far end, a twisted monument of power, and there, at its foot, stood Tywin, flanked by a clearly irritated Joffrey.

Joffrey’s gaze flicked to you the moment you entered, his face twisted with barely concealed annoyance. He looked you up and down, his lips curling slightly, as though he wanted nothing more than to remind you of your “place.” It was clear he saw your presence here as a slight, an opportunity to belittle. But as his mouth opened, Tywin turned, his sharp gaze falling on the young king with a sternness that silenced him immediately.

Joffrey’s mouth snapped shut, his face flushing with anger, though he didn’t dare challenge Tywin. Instead, he let out a frustrated huff, turning abruptly and signaling to his Kingsguard with a flick of his hand. Ser Meryn and Ser Boros followed him, their armor clanking as they fell into step behind him, leaving you and Tywin alone in the vast, echoing hall.

The moment the heavy doors shut behind Joffrey, Tywin’s expression softened, his shoulders easing ever so slightly as he turned to you. His gaze, sharp as ever, softened with a hint of warmth, a rare show of his approval.

"Forgive the interruption," he began, his voice carrying a note of apology rarely heard from him. “The young king is… proving challenging to advise.”

You managed a small smile, stepping closer. “I can imagine, my lord,” you replied, your voice even. “It appears he lacks the patience for wise counsel.”

Tywin allowed himself a rare sigh, a flicker of irritation at his grandson showing as he shook his head. “Indeed. But his temperament is the least of our concerns for now.” He paused, studying you with a thoughtful gaze before continuing. “The Tyrells are arriving soon, as expected. Their influence and loyalty are… essential for the realm’s stability. Their support is crucial to our position here.”

You inclined your head, considering his words carefully. “House Tyrell wields considerable power, especially in the Reach. I imagine they are expecting more than mere titles in exchange for their loyalty.”

Tywin’s mouth curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “Precisely. Margaery Tyrell’s engagement to Joffrey has already begun to cement the alliance, but they will want more—a deeper investment in the realm, influence over key decisions.” His gaze turned calculating. “I will be meeting with Mace Tyrell to discuss the terms of their alliance. Their ambition is considerable, but it can be shaped to suit our purposes.”

You met his gaze steadily, appreciating the insight he allowed you to glimpse. It was rare for Tywin to share so openly, even with those closest to him. “And how may I be of assistance in this, my lord?”

Tywin stepped closer, his voice lowering as he addressed you. “Your presence and composure at court have not gone unnoticed. The Tyrells, like many in King’s Landing, are curious about you, about the… union you and I have formed. They’ll watch you closely, especially Margaery, who is known for her charm and astuteness.”

You nodded, understanding his implication. “You want me to present myself as part of this alliance, as a demonstration of House Lannister’s strength and unity.”

Tywin’s gaze held yours, his approval unmistakable. “Exactly. Let them see that the Lannisters are more than just the sum of our titles and wealth. We are a unified force, and every member of this family, including you, represents that power.” He paused, a flicker of pride in his eyes. “Your composure will send a message that no words could convey.”

You inclined your head, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Very well, my lord. I shall ensure the Tyrells see only the strength and unity of House Lannister.”

For a moment, Tywin regarded you, a look of quiet admiration softening the edges of his usually impassive expression. “You have adapted well,” he said, his voice laced with a rare note of sincerity. “More than I could have anticipated.”

Your gaze softened, allowing yourself a moment of honesty. “I’ve learned from the best, my lord,” you replied, a glimmer of warmth in your tone.

Tywin’s eyes met yours, and a rare, subtle smile flickered across his face, a gesture that was brief but genuine. “Very good,” he murmured, his voice low, as though speaking only for you. “Then we are well-prepared for whatever challenges lie ahead.”

As you and Tywin exchanged a final look, the heavy wooden doors creaked open, and Tyrion strode in with a briskness that hinted at urgency. He held a stack of parchments in his hand, each one bearing the seal of the crown’s finances, the weight of his responsibility as Master of Coin clearly wearing on him. He cast you both a knowing look, his gaze lingering a moment longer on you, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Father, Lady Y/N,” Tyrion greeted, inclining his head with a formal nod. His voice held its usual sharp edge, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes. “I apologize for the intrusion, but it appears our coffers are hemorrhaging gold faster than I can manage. The Tyrells’ arrival is proving to be quite the costly affair.”

Tywin’s expression turned stony, his brows knitting together as he took in Tyrion’s words. “Explain,” he commanded, his voice clipped.

Tyrion lifted a parchment, reading off the details with a feigned theatrical flair. “Lavish feasts, grand accommodations, servants for each member of their esteemed house, silks and brocades for Margaery’s arrival—nothing but the finest, of course. Our dear King Joffrey has insisted that the capital reflects ‘the crown’s generosity.’”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the news. “Generosity,” he repeated, his voice laced with disdain. “More like extravagance. The crown is in debt, and yet Joffrey sees fit to squander what little we have on displays of opulence.”

Tyrion’s smile didn’t fade as he replied, “It appears that ‘generosity’ has become synonymous with ‘indulgence’ in our dear king’s vocabulary. I thought it prudent to inform you before the entirety of the Reach decides to drink and dine us into ruin.”

Tywin’s gaze turned steely, his mind already calculating the implications. “Ensure that the expenditures are curtailed,” he ordered sharply. “House Tyrell is an ally, not a host of kings. They should not expect to be received with such excess.”

Tyrion bowed his head, a mockery of submission in his gesture. “As you command, Father. I shall trim the expenses as best I can and manage their expectations—though I suspect Lady Margaery may find it a… disappointment.”

Tywin merely gave a curt nod, his attention shifting back to you with that familiar calculating gaze. Tyrion, however, seized the moment, turning to you with a more genuine smile.

“And as for you, my lady,” he began, his tone warming with a touch of humor, “it seems we haven’t had the chance to properly toast to this new… union of ours. A remarkable occasion, indeed.” He raised an eyebrow, his expression inviting, though there was something else in his gaze—an unspoken offer of understanding, of camaraderie.

Tywin’s expression turned stern, his gaze shifting sharply between you and Tyrion. “Your… gentlemanly gestures are noted, Tyrion, but I expect you to conduct yourself with respect. Lady Y/N is—”

Tyrion raised a hand, cutting him off with a knowing smile. “Father, please. I shall be the very picture of decorum. A toast in private is all I ask.” He gave you a quick wink, adding, “I wouldn’t dream of keeping her long.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened, clearly displeased, but after a moment, he gave a begrudging nod. “Very well. Do not delay her for long.”

Tyrion inclined his head, his expression one of polite triumph. “Of course, Father. I promise to return Lady Y/N to you precisely as she was.”

You met Tywin’s gaze, offering a small nod of assurance before turning to follow Tyrion out of the throne room. As the doors closed behind you, Tyrion’s smile grew, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he guided you down the corridor.

“A private toast,” he murmured, a chuckle in his voice. “I suspect we both have much to say about this rather… unexpected arrangement.” He offered you his arm, his expression light but his eyes sharp. “Shall we?”

Tyrion led you down a quieter corridor, away from the bustling halls and watchful eyes of the court, to a smaller, private room tucked within the Tower of the Hand. The chamber was dimly lit, with shelves of old tomes lining the walls and a small table in the center. Tyrion moved with ease, his familiarity with this space evident as he gestured for you to sit and began pouring a deep red wine into two goblets.

“True to my word, my lady,” Tyrion said with a charming grin, extending a goblet to you. “To toasting a most remarkable alliance.” He raised his glass, meeting your gaze with a glint of mischief.

You took the goblet, mirroring his gesture. “To alliances,” you replied, amusement lacing your tone as you clinked your glass against his.

Tyrion’s eyes sparkled as he took a sip, settling comfortably into his seat across from you. “I must say, I expected many things in my life, but gaining a Targaryen for a stepmother was not one of them,” he chuckled. “Life certainly knows how to keep us on our toes, doesn’t it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, raising an eyebrow. “It seems King’s Landing is never short of surprises. But I must admit, having you as a stepson is a rather unexpected delight, Tyrion.”

His grin widened, appreciating your humor. “A most pleasant turn of events, indeed,” he agreed, his voice warm but thoughtful. “And I find myself more curious than ever about my new family. Particularly the… circumstances surrounding certain recent events.”

You took a sip of the wine, savoring the smoothness, watching him over the rim of your goblet. “Oh?” you replied with a faint smile. “I’m certain there’s little more to know, Tyrion.”

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing playfully as he leaned back. “You say that, but my brother Jaime mentioned something intriguing. Reports about how you were captured near High Heart before being brought to Harrenhal.” He raised an eyebrow, his voice lowering as if savoring the mystery. “Not the most direct route to the rest of the south, I’d say. An interesting place to be traveling alone, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help the amused smile that touched your lips, recognizing his game. “High Heart is an ancient and mysterious place, as I’m sure you know, Tyrion. It has a certain… reputation. But then, I suppose such things don’t always require explanation.”

Tyrion’s grin deepened, his curiosity growing as he watched you carefully. “Ah, I see. So, our newest Lady Lannister is also one for secrets.” He took another sip of wine, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. “And here I thought we’d entered into this family as open books.”

You chuckled softly, holding his gaze. “Some books are best read between the lines,” you replied, matching his subtlety with your own.

Tyrion let out a quiet laugh, clearly enjoying the dance of words. “Well played, my lady, well played indeed. Jaime has a nose for unusual details, and he wasn’t wrong to be intrigued. High Heart is known for its… unusual visitors and its strange history.”

You merely tilted your head, taking another sip, neither confirming nor denying his observation. “The past often whispers to those willing to listen,” you replied smoothly, meeting his gaze. “Perhaps I was simply drawn by curiosity.”

Tyrion regarded you, his expression a mixture of admiration and amusement. “Curiosity… a dangerous companion in a place like King’s Landing, wouldn’t you agree? But then again,” he added, raising his glass in another toast, “it’s also the mark of a clever mind.”

You inclined your head, meeting his toast, the silence between you charged with an understanding neither of you spoke aloud.

Finally, Tyrion leaned back, studying you with genuine warmth. “Whatever secrets you carry, Lady Y/N, I am glad to have you here. It’s been far too long since anyone in this family possessed both wit and mystery.”

You couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across your face. “And I’m glad to be here, Tyrion. As unexpected as this arrangement may be, I have found unexpected allies in the most unlikely of places.”

Tyrion’s smile softened, his gaze turning more serious, his tone warmer. “Then, let us be allies. After all, there’s no one I’d rather have beside me in this city of shadows than someone who knows the power of a well-guarded secret.”

As the last of the wine slipped from your goblet, Tyrion set his own down with a soft clink, his expression shifting from playful to serious. The air in the room felt thicker, the camaraderie you had shared now laced with a stiffness that called for honesty. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes intent on you.

“Now, let us speak more personally, Lady Y/N,” he began, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “How are you truly dealing with all of this? With the marriage… with being bound to a man who, for the most part, was responsible for the fall of your family?”

You felt a weight settle in your chest at the mention of Tywin’s role in the tragedy that had befallen the Targaryens. The memories rushed back—flashes of fire, betrayal, and the haunting echoes of laughter that had once filled the halls of the Red Keep, now replaced by whispers of treachery. You took a deep breath, searching for the right words.

“It’s… complicated,” you finally replied, your voice steady but soft. “I never expected to be married to Tywin Lannister. When I was sent to Winterfell, I thought I would find safety, not a path that would lead me back into the very heart of the chaos that led to my family’s ruin.”

Tyrion nodded, his expression understanding yet probing. “It’s a heavy burden to bear, being tied to someone who orchestrated so much suffering, and yet saved your life at the same time. How do you reconcile that?”

You considered his question, the flickering candles casting shadows on the walls as you gathered your thoughts. “I try to see it as a means of survival. My marriage to him may have been politically motivated, but I also recognize that it offers me a measure of power and influence that I did not have before. It allows me to navigate this world on my terms, however twisted those terms may be.”

Tyrion regarded you thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth twitching in a wry smile. “A practical perspective. You Targaryens are known for your fire—literal and figurative. But don’t think for a moment that you are simply a pawn in his game. You are more than that, especially in a marriage like this. You have a voice, a power that can reshape the narrative, should you choose to wield it.”

You felt a flicker of hope at his words, but a shadow of doubt crossed your mind. “But at what cost? Being with him means aligning myself with everything he represents—the very things that destroyed my family. Can I ever truly accept that?”

Tyrion leaned back slightly, his gaze softening as he considered your struggle. “No one can ever truly forget their past, Lady Y/N. Nor should they. It’s how we use that past that defines us. Your family’s legacy, while fraught with tragedy, is also rich with strength. You have the opportunity to redefine what it means to be a Targaryen in this new era. Just as Tywin seeks to reshape the Lannisters, you too can carve your own path.”

You took a moment, absorbing his words. “I want to believe that,” you admitted quietly, your heart racing with the possibilities. “But every time I look at him, I see the weight of his choices. I can’t help but wonder if I am merely a means to an end for him—a way to consolidate power.”

Tyrion studied you, his expression serious. “Then make your presence known, my lady. Show him that you are not just a means to an end. Use this opportunity to become an ally, not just to him, but to the realm. Your voice matters. Use it wisely, and you might just find that you can steer this ship in a different direction.”

You met his gaze, feeling the warmth of his encouragement wash over you. “You make it sound so simple, Tyrion,” you replied with a hint of a smile. “But I understand. I need to find a way to reclaim my identity in this role.”

“Exactly,” he said, a note of excitement creeping into his voice. “And when the Tyrells arrive, you’ll have a perfect stage to showcase your strength and your vision. Remember, they come with their own ambitions, and it’s a delicate dance you must navigate.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening as you realized the truth in his words. “Thank you, Tyrion. It means more than you know, having someone in my corner who understands.”

Tyrion raised his goblet in a mock toast, a smirk on his face. “To alliances, then, both new and unexpected. May they serve you well, my lady.”

You raised your own goblet, the warmth of his support wrapping around you like a protective cloak. “To alliances,” you echoed, your heart lifting slightly at the thought of the possibilities that lay ahead.

[sabrondabrainrot]

Bring back LAES!

I'm steadily making progress on catching up on sun and moon show along with foxy and monty etc etc but it's pretty difficult when one of the main key plot lines is gone. I know a few spoilers thanks to fanfiction but I want to see the drama in person.

Here's some outfit ideas for tsams cause I'm a sucker for fashion and redesigns!

Order is, SolarFlare - Lunar - NewMoon - Old Moon - Sunny (Solar's dimension) - Sun

closeups and more brainrot under the cut!

Explaining my redesigns! Lunar - he's not really a redesign and more so an overdesign. I love adding tons of little details to him to really hammer home his star-ness. He's such an interesting little guy, like yes he acts childish but I can see he's really growing (SAD I CANT WATCH MORE CAUSE THE SHOW IS GONE). I saw the ep he killed Eclipse and homeboy revived. The entire time I was like "Waaahh Lunar??? Waaahhh???" but I love the drama ngl.

SolarFlare - Same as Lunar, not really a redesign I just drew him with no dirt. I really love his base design it's so neat it makes me think of like sci-fi concepts from the 80's. Something from fallout really. I think it's kind of funny Eclipse's aesthetics for SolarFlare when you compare him next to say Jack who Solar designed.

OldMoon - I just wanted to give him a sleek mad scientist cool guy suave vibe. I saw the more recent thumbnails of him with a turtle neck and idk that's just peak character design for me. I'm a simple woman put the dumb-dumb in a dark turtleneck. I want him to kind of look like the BadGuy TM (he's not actually) so he gets all edgy and hard edges and stuff.

NewMoon - I wanted to do a similar color scheme but instead he has lighter colors like more white incorporated into his fit. To give him the whole 'reborn' aesthetic. He's all like "old moon wore black well I wear white now I'm nothing like him so hah!" kinda thinking. I gave his cap a fur texture cause of that one ep he turned into a furry. I drew rounder stuff on him cause he's a big ol' softy sweety pie.

Sunny - Sunny is my headcanon of Sun from Solar's dimension. I think it's really interesting his default with no personality was theater performance and not say...doing daycare stuff? I feel like honoring the FNAF books with this design by leaning heavily into the theater performer look. I like to think in Solar's dimension Sun and Moon were originally made for theater. (so far in the show I've noticed Creator says 'they needed a daycare attendant' something like that so it comes off more like they were intended for the daycare from the start VS. Solar's dimension where Sunny's core seems to be more so for the performing arts.) I also wanted to make Sunny look different from Sun for the extra angst potential of "They're similar but not the same" so I leaned more into a blue palette for him.

Sun - I just wanted to give him big puffy everything. I took away the tutu. nothing against the tutu I just hate drawing the damn thing. I like to think Sun in main has white eyes because he's so burnt out from within. *badum tish* (eyes are the window to the soul-) I also covered him in stickers because he totally would just be covered in stickers from the kids. I also decided to give some of his rays cracks because I think he's extremely sentimental and even in a newly upgraded body (after using star power to defeat Eclipse the first time) he'd keep rays from his original body? I also put the cracks ones on the side of his face where Old Moon hit him. Why? Because it just seems like something Sun would do. I love him so.

Ok just some brainrot stuff, look away to avoid spoilers .

RUIN DESTROYED HOW MANY DIMENSIONS?? SOLARS DEAD. LUNAR KILLED ECLIPSE. DARK SUN IS PLOTTING??? MOON BE CRYING??? Also Francine just had a birthday! ONE OF THE BLOODMOON BOYS ARE DEAD AND SAME WITH ONE OF THE STITCHY BOYS??? HELLO?!?

I love the drama.

Also, I love how every single kid vibe checks Sun and he passes every time. Francine? She loves Sun and learns from him. FC? He ONLY feels safe with Sun for a bit. Barry? He hugged Sun after gonad checking him (a right of passage for the bunny kid). Jack? I'm pretty sure he literally is just one room away from Sun at all times (he also calls Sun's cats his master???). I have yet to see Dazzle, but Dazzle 10000% loves Sun (I've seen the edits).

ALSO? When Lunar was first brought into the family the first person he hugged was Sun and then later on when Earth was in danger he ran into SUN's arms for safety/comfort. They're family your honor.

Sobbing and Crying laying on the floor over Solar's death but I think he'll be back.

Also the molten thing with Ruin? I'm excited to see more.

I don't have a youtube account to post about saving LAES but if anyone wants me to draw more LAES just to help the community please let me know. I'm planning to draw my idea of Earth next.

[mancalledvenus]

you think i'm pretty?

nishinoya yuu x reader

summary: you and nishinoya are paired together for a class assignment that leads to you asking him for volleyball tips and him asking for your number ^_<

word count: 1.4k

a/n: not proofread and written at 1am so sorry if it's a tough read lmfao i'm trying to clean out my drafts. thank you for reading !

the school day had dragged on for longer than usual. you sighed as you slumped into your seat for the last class of the day: psychology. the course was probably designed specifically to drain your energy and spoil your mood. that’s what it felt like at least.

your teacher droned on about his weekend for a full ten minutes before announcing to the class he'd be pairing you randomly with one of your peers for the next presentation.

you felt your body start to fill with dread. internally praying you didn't get stuck with someone lazy that made you do all the heavy lifting. you listened carefully for your name as the teacher called them out.

"y/n l/n, you'll be working with nishinoya yuu." he gestured to the boy in the back of the class with his head down on the desk that was clearly not paying attention.

"great." you thought to yourself as you shuffled through the room to the back.

his head snapped up as he heard footsteps coming his way, but relaxed a bit when he realized you weren't the teacher. he sat up fully and leaned back in his chair, giving you a clear view of his face. as you examined his features and sat down in front of him it registered in your head that this was the same boy that played the libero position on your school's volleyball team.

reluctantly you decided to ask him about it. being in volleyball yourself you'd always been curious about his skill and took it as an opportunity.

"are.. are you on the boy's volleyball team?"

his eyes widened and he smiled as he answered your question, "yeah are you a fan?"

you scoffed a little and shook your head, "not exactly, but i've seen you play. i'm the libero for the girls team."

nishinoya had finally seemed to shake off his forced laid-back persona and was noticeably more energetic than before. a side of him that you'd recognized from when you peaked into the boy's gym on more than one occasion while they practiced. even though you told everyone you were there to pick up tips from more 'skilled' players, deep down a part of you kept returning to see the cute boy in the #4 jersey.

"that's awesome! i always see you in here and our chemistry class. had no idea you were into volleyball."

you shrugged and glanced down, "i dunno, i'm kinda new to the team still. i'm not that confident in my skills yet."

nishinoya frowned at your tone and shook his head, "it takes a lot of courage to just step on the court and play. if you're gonna be a good libero you have to make sure you're dependable. you can't be reliable if you're second guessing yourself like that!"

you nodded to yourself silently before looking back up at him. the look on his face was enough to encourage you in of itself. the reassurance from this, well stranger basically, gave you a great feeling of relief and you were starting to feel less burdened with worry.

"that's definitely something to consider," you sighed and rubbed the back of your neck, "still our team is kindaaa... underdeveloped? we're not bad, it's just like we're still figuring everything out, y'know?"

"ohh, yeah i get that." he nodded.

"i wish we had someone with more experience so they could guide me a little or something."

nishinoya nearly jumped out of his seat to lean closer to your face. "i could totally help you!" the volume of his voice caused the pair sitting near you to glare at you both a little irritated, but you didn't notice and neither did he. "i'm so down to help you out- especially if it'll benefit the team too! you guys gotta rep us at the girl's tournaments.. i didn't catch your name also, i'm so sorry."

"it's y/n," you laughed at his enthusiasm. "i wouldn't wanna burden you too much, but that sounds like a lot of fun."

"please, i'd be lucky to get to play with someone as pretty as you. i'm getting sick of my teammate's faces honestly."

you laughed again and bit the inside of your cheek trying to withhold an uncontrollable smile.

"you think i'm pretty?"

nishinoya's face turned red. he had a habit of running his mouth without thinking and even though he'd flirted with girls relentlessly before, something about you made him extremely flustered. maybe it was the way you'd been staring into his eyes? the way you’d been listening to him so attentively as he was talking?

god you’d barley said a few sentences to him and you were already making him sweat. how come he hadn’t noticed how close you were until a few seconds ago? was he really that zoned out talking about volleyball?

"i.. uhm, i mean.." he tensed up with his arms glued to his sides, "you can't really blame me for saying it, you're gorgeous.."

"wow he's forward." you thought quietly, still processing what he'd said. there was nothing but silence from the two of you and all you could focus on was how your heart clenched every time his eyes connected with your's.

unable to talk without stuttering all you could offer him in that moment was a flustered smile which he returned with a quiet laugh. gaining more coincidence he finally broke the silence, "y/n?"

just as you were about to recover from his previous remark, him saying your name was enough to completely knock you back off your feet.

"..yeah?"

"would you let me take you out sometime?"

"FUUCKKK HE'S SO CUTE." you raved internally. you got swept up in your thoughts again before panic started to settle in at the realization that you needed to actually reply to him.

blushing and astonished at his sudden bold behavior, what was intended to be words came out as a collection of incoherent mumbles, "you- wha.. you? you and me? imeanthatwouldn't- i.. serious.. really?"

"i'll take that as a maybe," he chuckled and grabbed his pen from off his notebook, "if that's too much of a commitment could i at least get your number?"

the stupid shit-eating grin on his face gave the impression he knew exactly what your next actions would be; and he did. you reached across the desk for the pen he held out to you and shyly smiled to yourself as you began to write your number on the back of his other hand he had stretched out to you as well. you gripped it softly and etched the numbers on his skin.

the minute you finished writing he pulled his hand to his face swiftly. his eyes practically twinkling in excitement as he admired your penmanship.

his eagerness as he whipped his phone out of his pocket and began copying the numbers made you giggle, "why didn't you just hand me your phone in the first place, silly?"

"honestlyy," he began and you rolled your eyes realizing he was about to say something annoyingly charming and dumb, "i really only wanted you to hold my hand.. at the end of the day i am a simple man." the threw his hands up as he explained himself.

"you're so stupid." you held his pen in your teeth to chew on the cap. "i'm keeping your pen for that."

"i'll give you every pen i can find if that's all it costs."

you blushed a bright shade of pink and pushed his head down so he's looking downward at the desk, "n-nishinoya. we haven't started the assignment." you brushed his comment off and tried desperately to get him to pay attention to the papers sprawled across his desk.

the remainder of the class was him flirting with you and you trying not to completely lose your shit while also trying to get your work done (you guys didn't even finish reading the instructions).

______________________________________________________________

after school during the boy's practice.

"TANAKA. I DID IT I GOT HER NUMBER!!" noya nearly ran over hinata and yamaguchi running to find his friend.

tanaka's eyes followed the sound of the familiar voice to find noya rushing through the door, "Huh, who's? ..Y/N'S?"

"YEAH!! i played it sooo cool too. i pretended to not know her name and everything! seriously, every time she looked at me i almost died. her smile bro- her smile is sooo pretty-"

"prettier than mine?" tanaka smiled and folded his arms while listening to his rambling.

"don't interrupt me!" noya huffed before continuing, "she plays volleyball! did you know? god i got her number!"

"it was about time my man!" the two shook hands as their giddy shouts echoed throughout the gym.

almost immediately they were shushed by ukai for being too loud then scolded again by daichi then laughed at by yamaguchi and tsukishima, but in that moment nothing anyone could say to him would put a dent in nishinoya's mood.

______________________________________________________________

the end !

[killergee]

Hi, hi! First thing first, im in love with your hoshina x designer weapon reader! It's really warm my heart!! (I LOVE IT TO THE CORE HEHBFJSHDHC😭🫶🫶🫶 BLESS U)

Can i request you (this is kinda awkward) i want to see Highschool AU! For Hoshina x Reader. Kendo player! Hoshina x Archer! Reader👉👈 i would love to see them bantering each other (of if it's not Highschool AU! You can use the close range user! Bf x long range user! Gf thing!)

Thank you!

Ahhh my first request, how exciting! Sorry for posting so late. So many things have been happening lately. Also had to do some research and ended up watching tsurune LOL.

Here's a bunch of little stories of your life as Archer! Reader x Kendo! Hoshina.

Part 2 (one shot)

Synopsis: The club captains of the kendo and the kyudo (archery) club don't seem to get along. Or rather, that's how the club members see it.

---------------------------

"Oi, what do ya think you're doing? The kendo club's got this gym booked for today."

Toppled on top of each, the members of the kendo club huddled nervously outside the door to their gym. They could only take small peaks and glances from their place as they were all too scared to step foot inside.

All except one.

The Captain of the Kendo team, Hoshina, was the only one who dared to enter the gym. Standing tall with his arms crossed, he gave you a menacing glare.

Rising from your kneeling position, you exhaled a tired breath and put your training bow down. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see your name on the registrar, so I presumed the gym was empty and booked it." Despite the courteous words, your apology dripped of insincerity and a smidge of condescension. "Had you actually done your job correctly, this could've been avoided."

The members of your own club shifted awkwardly. Exchanging knowing glances, they braced themselves to watch their Captain go at it once again with the rival club Captain.

Hoshina lets out a scoff as he rolled his eyes at your attitude. He ignored your comment and continued on with his interrogration. "What are ya even doing here, ya can't shoot in here. Why aren't you in the kyudo hall?"

"It's under repair, and kyudo isn't only about shooting. I gotta teach the newbies the correct form before they can even touch a bow." You stated before offering a fake smile. "Why don't you go build your stamina with some laps? It's not good to slack on basic fitness."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you? When's the last time ya used your legs?"

After a brief moment, Hoshina flashed his own small smile, although there was nothing friendly behind it. He leaned down until his face was a mere couple inches from yours. He knew you hated the height difference. That you hated the fact that there was something he had over you. Going by the tiniest twitch in your perfectly crafted smile, he knew he was right.

"Hey, give me the room, and I'll play nice and let you watch us practice. Maybe then you'll learn something of actual worth." He suggested, feeling a deep satisfaction at the slight clench of your fist.

"I don't understand the need to swing a big sword. Overcompensating for something?"

"Ah, and I suppose hitting a massive target from far away is much more impressive."

"Oh my, if you think a target that's only thirty-six centimeters is massive, then I'm definitely worried for you."

"Are dick jokes the only jokes you can make? Are you a child?"

"Sorry, did I hit too close to home?"

A vein popped on his cheek. He could never really get a handle on your snake-like tongue.

Everyone felt the heavy tension and chill in the air. The first years had trouble believing that the two people squabbling like children were their beloved Captains.

You were known for your kindness and elegance. But you knew when to be soft and when to push harder. Where you went, people's eyes would follow whether consciously or not. You were the most talented kyudo archer the school has ever seen and an equally good captain.

Hoshina was among the top strongest kendo player in the division. Diligent. Attentive. Trustworthy. His laidback attitude attracted a lot of people, but when his serious nature slipped through during matches—that's when it was impossible to take your eyes off of him.

You two rarely crossed paths, but when you did, it was a blood bath. You two brought out the worst in each other. Or maybe you simply brought out each other's competitive streak.

All the members of their respective club could only pray for the day the two of you stop bickering.

---------------------------------

"I heard you guys passed the preliminaries," you said as you sat and watched him practice. It was late into the evening, and only the two of you were still in school. You had locked up the kyudo hall but saw how the lights were still on in the kendo dojo. Curiosity got the best of you, and you went to see who was still practicing.

"Congrats," you said quietly, barely audible to anyone around you.

"Oh, sorry, what was that? Awww, are ya congratulatin' me? I'm so honoured, oh, glorious captain." He jested back, pausing his activities against the training dummy. He stopped because he's had enough practice and shouldn't overexert himself. He definitely didn't stop because he wouldn't hear you against the sound of the strikes.

"Whatever, your opponents were shit anyways. It would've been harder for you to lose."

He lets out a low whistle at your words.

"Way to ruin the moment." He said, beginning to take off his armor. Placing his wooden sword at the stand, he peeled off his gloves.

Then, realization hit Hoshina, and he froze. The corner of his lip curled into a dangerous smirk as he turned to look at you.

"Wait, does that mean ya watched me compete?"

You flushed a pretty shade of pink and looked away from his amused eyes.

"Well, we're hosting the tournament this year, and I happened to pass by the dojo, so I just took a look."

"Right..." He chuckled. "Your preliminaries are tomorrow, right?"

You nod your head as you get up from your spot. The way you stretched your arms above your head reminded him of a cat.

"Yup, and we're gonna show you guys why we're number one in the division, unlike you guys who are only what again? Right, second."

"Hope you miss." He grunted in response. Though, despite the gruff words, Hoshina found that there wasn't actually any bite to his remarks nowadays. His once heated bitter words are now nothing more than poorly disguised teases.

At hearing your chuckle, he looked up at you, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Me? Miss?"

The look in your eyes was hypnotizing.

"Never."

---------------------------------------------------

Why others seemed to admire you was beyond Hoshina's understanding. You were immature, vain, cocky, rude, and knew exactly which buttons to push to annoy him. If people saw the side of you he got to see, they would run for the hills.

Walking from the main school building to the dojo, he heard the faint but recognizable sound of the kyudo bow releasing an arrow.

Ah, that's right. You should be playing right now.

He stopped in his place as he looked to the direction of the sound. He had to pass the kyudo hall anyway to get to the dojo, is what he told himself before he changed course to take the longer route to the dojo.

There was a crowd gathered around the hall by the time he made it there. Not wanting to be seen, he kept to the edges of the crowd but still in a good enough spot that he had a good view of the archers.

Hoshina thinks to himself that he'll only stay to watch your first shot as he watched you ceremoniously kneel with your bow and arrow.

However, he found himself stuck in his place as he watched your elegant and meticulous gestures. Like a moth to a flame, he couldn't tear his eyes away from your figure as you drew your bow. He didn't know much about kyudo, but he couldn't help but think that your draw was beautiful.

Everything about you screamed confidence and assurance. With the twang of the bow string, the arrow released and hit dead centre of the target.

Like always.

By the time he realized he's stayed longer than he should've, you had fired 5 shots. Not a single arrow missed the target.

The cocky smile that bloomed on your face as you lowered the bow and admired your work made his heart race.

Huh... so that's why so many people are head over heels for you.

He left before your team could celebrate the victory.

---------------------------------------------------

As the season continued, you two made it a habit to stay later than usual when practicing. Whoever would finish first would go to the other and watch or tell them to pack it up.

As captains in your last year, both of you needed to win your tournaments.

"Don't ya ever get tired? Or are the rumours true and you're actually a robot?" Hoshina said with his head resting on his bag as he sat and watched you.

"Only partly, actually," you quipped back before drawing another arrow. "One more shot."

"And how many times have ya said that?" He asked looking at your target filled with dozens of arrows. Unlike what he was used to seeing, a third of your shots were off target.

"Can't afford to miss. "

"Ya need to go home."

"No"

Hoshina rolled his eyes at your stubborness. "You think this is going to help ya? You're just burnin' yourself out."

Although you lowered your bow at that, your focus does not move away from your target. "We were one point away from not advancing to finals. I need to be perfect. My team is depending on me. I can't afford to drag my team down or disappoint them."

At one point in time, he'd have paid someone to bring you down a peg. Now, however, his heart twisted at seeing you doubting yourself.

"Listen, I know the pressure better than anyone else. This tournament is important to me too. But ya just need to have faith in the skills that you've built up over these years. You've earned the title of best kyudo player for a reason." He sat up straighter when you finally turned to look at him. Rubbing the back of his neck, he continued, "also, have faith in your team. They've worked hard and don't want to disappoint you either. Don't forget you're in a team, afterall."

You stared at him for a moment before giggling. Your giggle turned into a full-blown laugh at his pout.

"Now why's that so funny?"

"No, no," you managed to say as you try to collect your composure. "I just never imagined getting a pep talk from my arch nemesis."

A smile replaced Hoshina's pout. "I'm your arch nemesis?"

"Aren't I yours?" You jested back as you began putting away your equipment.

Were you? Arch nemesis wouldn't be the words he'd use to describe you. He didn't quite like the idea of you only being a rival to him.

His on the other hand. Now, that didn't sound too bad.

With your back turned to him, he called out to you, making you turn to him.

"Here."

You caught whatever he threw at you before it could hit you. Sitting in your palm was a key chain with a cat shaped charm, and beside it, an omamori charm with the embroidery "victory."

"Hasn't really been working on me, so you might as well try it," he said, looking rather bashful.

You let out another laugh at his actions. "Can't be owing you, here's mine," you said amused, removing the charm that hung on your bag and tossing it to him.

"It might give you my luck, but I doubt it'll be able to give you my amazing skills. So don't put too much pressure on it."

The charm was of a heart with an arrow through it and a wooden good-luck charm with the engraving "grind them to dust."

"How fitting," hoshina said outloud as he held the charm in his palm.

"Oh yea," you chuckled. "The statement is quite aggressive, but I thought it was funny"

"Hmmm? Oh yea, that too." Before you could even think twice about his statement, he closed his palm around the charm and gave you a determined look.

"Let's win this."

You couldn't help but smile. "That goes without saying."

---------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

"Hey, isn't that Hoshina's charm?" One of your club members asked curiously as they stretched on the ground. Although the rest of the members pretended they weren't listening in, they were dying to know why you had it. They were able to spot it right away when they saw it on your school bag. It was the charm that Hoshina kept on his bag for all the years they've known him. They also couldn't forget how the Kendo members were forced to stay after school to search for the charm when he lost it.

"Yeah," you responded matter of factly as you stood and watched them.

"Why? I thought you two hated each other?"

"Now, who ever told you that?" You responded slyly.

Their mouths hung open at your statement. Were you gaslighting them? Or were you just pretending you didn't pick a fight with Hoshina every chance you got.

"Oi, y/n hurry up. I'm hungry"

At the voice, they all snapped their heads to look at the owner of the charm himself. Leaning against the doorframe, he was in his school uniform with his bag tucked under his arm.

"Yea, yea, coming old man, don't be so pushy," you said, making your way towards him. When he turned to head out, the members saw your unforgettable charm hanging from his bag.

"You buying lunch this time or is it my turn?" They heard you say as the both of you walked by the window of the gym.

"Don't remember. Let's just say it's my turn. " Hoshina responded with what they think was a smile.

"What the fuck just happened."

[diejager]

Hello hellooooooo

I hope you are doing great !!

(I was waiting patiently for your requests to be open again lmao)

So, my brain was just thinking of something for monster!141 and I just need to share it somewhere 😵‍💫

As you may know, penguins' love language is giving pebbles to their loved ones

Penguin hybrid!Hunter just giving monster!141 pebbles and little rocks to show them that they love them 🥹

Alright, I'll go back to my knitting now BYE

*gets out by the window with a parachute*

Pebbles Cw: weird courting, tell me if I missed any.

You didn’t have any noticeable differences to a human, having the appearance of any human with a some quirky and funny behavioural traits that all of them enjoyed. You had your moments of oddity, but you didn’t seem that far from a human, having no tail, ear or horns, your skin as smooth and soft as any. They dropped their suspicions of you being a hybrid, a monster or even an inter dimensional creature of some unknown source.

And somehow, they find small trinkets - small, round pebbles picked out of a bunch to be perfectly rounded, smooth edges and glistening under the light, and sticks, long and robust, but small enough to sneak into the base without being caught - placed in the areas they often found themselves frequenting.

Price would find a cluster of pebbles on his desk, arranged neatly in a ring, a curious little thing that he shrugged off, putting them away for the time he’d be able to catch the culprit red handed in the act. Price chucked it up to being Soap and Gaz pulling a prank on him, an unsuspecting and benign trick for a little laugh between them, he didn’t bother with it too much.

Ghost found his small collection of sticks and rock on the books he liked to read, placed near the corner of his desk in his office, the arrangement was neither crude nor clean, it was a chaotic abstraction that he didn’t understand.He didn’t know what to make of it, no one would be brave enough - stupid enough - to pull something like this on him and on his stuff without knowing the risks they put themselves in.

Soap and Gaz had a few placed that belonged to them alone, like their rooms or their locker in the armoury, small areas that everyone knew was theirs. Gaz was the first of the two to find flowers and pebbles in the top compartment of his locker, picked with utmost care to keep the petal from bending. Soap found his collection of sticks and flowers stitched in a pretty crown placed around the collar of his vest, a little present full of romance and adoration. Both of them couldn’t help but find this weird act endearing.

Until Price saw you rush out of his office, a sweet, love-filled smile plastered on your face as if you’d been given the miracle of your life. If he pushed the thought farther, he could almost see a little tail wagging behind you, oh so overzealous and overjoyed with something you did. Peaked by it, he looked into his room and caught the bright petals of a daisy gently placed in the middle of a wreath of stick. He looked at it with a renewed aww and curiosity, feeling your affection roll of your intricate design, made and catered to him as if you’d made each and every single one of his boys a little courting gift-

It was an instinctual courting behaviour seen in monsters and hybrids alike. It stopped him in his tracks, causing him to question himself and your file, he’d been sure that you were human through and through, holding not a single ounce of monster blood in your veins, you’d done tests. Tests, he had to remind himself that these tests were - despite being physical and DNA tests - noted down if the recipient had any traits deemed worthwhile, something useful in the minds of a battle or in a dogfight.

That would give reason to some missing holes in your file, the little things that made you so charmingly you in every aspect was missing from your papers, reserved for people who came to know you. It warmed his heart, to see you so comfortable with them that you ended up forging such strong, emotional connections that you started giving them gifts. He’d have to take it up with the other boys, tell them what he just found out: your little, courting gifts, your hybrid roots that they could explore and your lovable smile when you’d successfully given your gift, and see where they would go from there.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @mixplara @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @stay-088 @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[hikari-kaitou]

This is Phoenix and Edgeworth's profiles as imagined by character designer Ms. Suekane. We got quite different answers from her compared to Takumi and the others!!

Phoenix's profile

Birthday: Maybe a Virgo? I kinda get the feeling he was born in September.

Blood type: O type. His attitude towards Maya and his fairly easygoing nature give me that impression.

Birthplace: Saitama, maybe? It's close to Tokyo but not on the same level because it's more rural. Maybe Saitama or Chiba or Ibaraki? But Takumi-san is from Saitama? Well, let's go with Saitama, then.

Non-work clothes: A hoodie. I want Phoenix to like wearing hoodies (lol). I can't think of anything else that would suit him. On the bottom, he'd wear cargo pants.

Living situation: He lives at his office. He's got a locker there where he keeps blankets and stuff to sleep on.

On his days off: He does nothing. He kinda just spaces out in the morning, then when noon comes he eats lunch and watches TV. When evening comes, he eats dinner, watches more TV, bathes, and sleeps. But if someone invites him out then he'll go.

Hobbies: Video games and stuff. Like fighting games (lol). I can see him with his controller going "tap tap tap tap" and smashing out combos. He might also play Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy or those types of games.

Favorite food: He's omnivorous. He'll eat whatever but he's kinda happy when there's meat in it. He loves meat.

Luxury foods: Diet cola. Beef jerky would be fine too (lol). He drinks alcohol but it doesn't show on his face much. Not beer, but like Japanese hot sake (lol)

Sports: Swimming. In general he's useless at sports but he'd be like "swimming is the only thing I'm good at." He seems like he'd get a little excited while talking about swimming.

Music: He doesn't listen to music. He'll go to karaoke if someone brings him, though.

Cellphone: He updates it fairly regularly, but because he always waits for the price to go down, he always ends up with one that's two models behind (lol).

His part time job in college: Something loose, because he doesn't commit himself to things… Like maybe he worked at a convenience store.

His type: I feel like he dreams about someone with abstract qualities like being "kind" or "domestic". Just thinking about those words gets him all starry-eyed and sighing (lol).

Edgeworth's profile

Birthday: He's an Aries, which means he was born on April 2nd or later. Let's go with April 2nd (lol).

Blood type: Type AB, because I feel like his emotions kinda have peaks and valleys.

Birthplace: Chiba. At first I thought Ace Attorney took place in Soga (a city in Chiba Prefecture).

Non-work clothes: A jacket, but not like a suit jacket, more like a casual one. Like from Paul Smith or something.

Living situation: A normal apartment. A lot of his furniture is Japanese handicraft stuff, and I feel like he'd put a lot of money into making his place feel Japanese.

On his days off: He goes shopping or on walks and has an elegant lunch. If he drives a car, it would be a silver one (lol).

Hobbies: Collecting western antiques and Japanese handicrafts.

Favorite food: Taro and meat soup (imoni). He has a favorite deli in his neighborhood that makes it.

Luxury foods: Whiskey. He enjoys it on the rocks.

Sports: He used to play soccer, but now he does weight training. He's got a defined six-pack.

Music: jazz. He listens to it while drinking his whiskey. Eminem fills him with rage.

Cellphone: A normal one. He uses his computer to send emails so he really only uses it to talk.

His part time job in college: Administrative assistant. He'd help with paperwork only when the office was really busy.

His type: Someone who doesn't lie to him. I have nothing in particular to add to that.

[angelsknifeprty]

streamer!ellie hcs ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: this is more focused on ellie and less on ellie x reader but i am for sure gonna follow this up with something else more focused on the both of you >:3

warnings | mentions of weed, the smallest hint towards struggling with eating if you squint

word count: 698

do not buy tlou | ways to help palestine | operation olive branch | keep eyes on sudan | haiti’s history | learn about congo

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ started off posting unlisted videos of her playing games with the stupidest, shittiest editing ever for you and her friends to watch and later decided to give streaming a try

‎ ‧₊˚౨ৎ starts off her twitch channel as a faceless streamer but does a face reveal when she hits a big milestone

‧₊˚౨ৎ has the creeper mini fridge for sure!!

‧₊˚౨ৎ has a ginger cat named garfield that she exclusively calls garfunkel on stream because her viewers made fun of her for garfield being too unoriginal

“guys, what do you mean it’s unoriginal, look at him. that’s literally garfield, the real deal. you’re all haters.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ plays a bunch of different games: minecraft obviously, fortnite, roblox (and argues with kids on there, you can’t tell me any different). also loves fnaf, elder scrolls and resident evil

‧₊˚౨ৎ more on her liking resident evil, i think she’s not super wimpy when it comes to games like that but she HATES the regenerators from the re4 remake (i’m totally not projecting…)

“i am NOT a wimp, but look at their freaky fucking arms!! and they have gross little butts too, that was not a necessary choice for the character design.”

‧₊˚౨ৎ she does find it funny when she kills them and they jiggle as they fall on the ground though

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ i’m throwing it in here that she smokes weed because i simply cannot help myself teehee :P

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she does more chill streams of her eating n stuff as a way of comforting her viewers so they can eat along with her )):

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ and in turn chat always spams her with comments to drink water because that girl survives purely on energy drinks to combat her sleepy girl syndrome

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ abuses the soundboard so heavily, loves using a sound effect of an audience clapping and cheering when she tells the most painfully unfunny joke

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she is ABSOLUTELY a jerma985 fan

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves putting her fans on blast and reacting to edits of her on stream and finds it so funny (especially the ones that have the reverb fart noise just randomly slapped in there, she thinks it’s peak humour)

“you guys think i don’t see this stuff? i have eyes everywhere. y’know what though, you guys are actually really talented.”

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ wears stupid t-shirts that say stuff like “i paused my game to be here” (omg i just found one that says “gamers make better lovers, they know all the right buttons” she would absolutely wear that)

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ she wears her silly t-shirts with pride and has the audacity to ask chat to rate how hard her fit goes

therealher0brine: BOOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅 0/10

elliebellie69: i beg that you don’t leave the house in that /lh  (╥﹏╥)

gnarpgnarp500: never beating the loser lesbian allegations i fear…

“guys you’re just not seeing the vision, sorry that you’re not this cool.”

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ oh my gosh she is OBSESSED with the little ikea alien, she has multiple of them in her room. she keeps one on her desk and when she sometimes doesn’t know what to say she’ll just hold it up super close to the camera and make incoherent high pitched babbling sounds

smelliams420: omg cancelled you can’t say that dude…

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ gets her viewers to send in clips and she’ll do high try not to laugh streams and fails miserably because she has the dumbest sense of humour ever. she’ll blame it entirely on the herb though as if her reaction wouldn’t be near enough the same when she’s sober

‧₊˚౨ৎ will occasionally play guitar on stream and she’ll sing too if you catch her in the right mood. she’s a bit awkward about it so it doesn’t happen often cuz she hates messing up and always makes a way bigger deal about it than necessary

“fuck- no wait, i was just messing with you. that fuck up was on purpose, shut up,” and her cheeks are flushed bright red as she tries to brush it off and compose herself before trying again

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ loves to get sidetracked and info dumps about stuff she is far too knowledgeable on

 ‧₊˚౨ৎ in conclusion, loser ellie supremacy

a/n: raghhh i love streamer els with my whole heart !!! i’m gonna eat her (˶˃⤙˂˶) anyways i hope you enjoyed, k bye mwah! >3< ♡