#please sleep well deary!

[yearningaces]

I love your writing. It's always a joy to see your words appear on my screen. Add to it the wonderfulness of the non-sexual manner I get to see affection through your words. It's like a wonderful breath of fresh air. I hope you have many books, and as much rest as you can. Along with good compensation for the work you're doing off the web. Be safe and relax when you can <3

Babes you have made my night, crops watered, bed made and fluffy, drink crisp and cold XYZ

Joking tone aside, I do my best to provide stories of love and affection and mutual care and understanding without constant sex. Sex is fine if someone enjoys it but I know I get tired of reading around it or feel uncomfortable with sweet stories even making innuendos and such (repulsed tbh but if it's not my cuppa tea I keep scrolling. I'm so tired of scrolling though) and that's why I made this blog in the first place!

I'm always happy to offer nonsexual stories revolving different expressions of affection, I'm just so happy so many folks enjoy it with me🖤🤍🩶💜

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 1

Part 2, Part 3; AO3 Link

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Flirting, Light Angst, Longing

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It's easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can't pretend anymore?

A/N: This turned into a monstrosity. For my own sanity I need to break it up into three parts. I also apologize in advanced, the stuff in the preview won’t pop up until part 2. And please, REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO LIVE!!!

Word Count: 4.8K

The day really couldn’t decide whether it was going to be terrible or tolerable. 

On the one hand, it had been pouring rain for hours, leaving you and your party drenched as you searched for some place dry to sleep. On the other hand, you were able to find an inn with more than enough rooms to accommodate all of you. On the other, other hand, rooms cost money, something that was in short supply. 

“How much does that make?” Karlach asked, placing her share into the pile. 

Gale counted out the coins. “Enough for our own rooms, but not much in the way of food.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Hold on, this can’t be right. Who forgot to pitch in?”

All eyes turned suspiciously to Astarion. 

He raised his hands in surrender. “I put down enough for the room. Food is something…you all have to deal with.”

Lae’zel gave him a hard look, the threat obvious on her features. 

“We could always share a room or two,” Shadowheart cut in. “That will at least hold us over until we can find a way to make more coin.”

A devilish smirk formed on the vampire’s lips as his eyes turned to you. “I’m not opposed to the idea. Certainly would make it easier for me to get a little midnight snack.” 

You gave a theatrical sigh. “Not tonight dear. I have a headache.” 

“Teasing minx.” 

“Can the pair of you not for ten seconds?” Wyll complained. 

You bit back a laugh, turning your gaze to the dining area of the tavern. Gods you could smell something delicious cooking over the fireplace. When was the last time you had a proper hot meal? 

It was then you turned your eyes to one of the empty corners. The solution to the issue of food suddenly became obvious. 

“Not to worry everyone,” you announced, swiping the coins from Gale’s hand. “Dinner is on me.” 

Before anyone could speak, you stepped towards the bar, making a point to put on your best smile. 

A elderly halfling woman regarded you as you approached. “What can I get you deary?”

“Actually it’s a matter of what I can do for you,” you said. “I see you have some instruments sitting much too idly.”

The old lady shrugged. “Not really. Night like this you don’t need music to bring people in.”

Your smile faltered a moment, but you pushed on. “That may be, but nothing keeps people drinking longer and deeper than a good song.”

She gave you a disparaging look. “Don’t tell me, bard right?”

“Guilty.”

“If you don’t have money for the rooms, we don’t comp that.”

You waved the comment away. “The rooms aren’t the issue. However, if you’re willing to part with a cauldron of stew, I’ll consider it payment enough.” 

Her eyes remained wary, but you knew you had her as a twitch came to her lips. “That’ll do.  Thirty minute set. You eat after.” 

She held out a hand which you took, striking the bargain. 

It didn’t take long after to secure the rooms. They were nothing fancy, but a mattress was a mattress and with the guarantee of true privacy for the first time in weeks, none of you were complaining. 

“How’s this about food then?” Karlach asked, taking a seat at one of the few tables large enough to accommodate all seven of you. 

“All taken care of,” you assured. “Just need to pluck out a quick set and we can eat.” 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Astarion said. “I don’t mind it myself, but your songs have a tendency to be a bit, well…destructive. Frankly I’m surprised you didn’t use that cutting mouth of yours to simply insult the woman into feeding you.” 

“As it turns out, I have a little thing called restraint. Unlike some people,” you countered. 

“Oh trust me my dear, I’m well aware of that.” 

You rolled your eyes, deciding to ignore the slight twist of guilt in your stomach. 

He couldn’t seem to help making those kinds of jabs ever since you had declined his offer for a midnight tryst; always alluding to the theme of “untapped passions” or “delayed gratification”. It was starting to wear on you. 

Gods knew you liked him. He had so many qualities you admired; insight, intelligence, charm, the way he could make you laugh. The more you learned, the more you wanted to know and the more you were willing to give for answers. The trouble was his idea of a night of passion and yours were so very, very different.

A part of you knew the honest thing to do would be to spell it out for him.  You understood him well enough to know he’d respect those boundaries. At the same time, you didn’t want to lose this, whatever this was, between you. If suddenly that night of passion was off the table, all those moments, all his attentions would be lost. He’d be a friend, certainly, but nothing more. 

It was selfish. You knew it was. You couldn’t imagine finding the words to explain it to him. It would leave you too exposed, too vulnerable to that insistent burning want that had a way of tearing you apart from the inside out. It was better to leave him to his assumptions of suppression and prudishness. You’d keep your dignity at least. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you took your place in the unobtrusive corner and the spare violin waiting for you. 

A smile spread across your face as you tucked the familiar instrument under your chin. Since this whole adventure of yours began, you had little opportunity to apply your skills. Music had always been a source of comfort to you. It felt right to indulge in it now, some place safe and filled with warm firelight. 

With a flick of your wrist you began, the resonating tone of the strings filling the room. 

You allowed your eyes to close as you slipped into the melody. The sounds of conversation and laughter fell to an idle murmur. It was a simple tune, something easy to match the atmosphere, but one you loved all the same. You always found it best to start with something familiar. If the patrons could see you get lost in the music, they inevitably followed. 

As the first song came to an end, you chanced a quick glance at your audience. 

Most of the patrons still prattled on, but enough turned your direction to encourage you to try something a little more daring. 

Your fingers flew, igniting a livelier rhythm. More eyes found their way to you. A pleasant bubbling sensation filled you. They were falling right into your hands.  

Rising to your feet, you glided across the floor, moving with the music towards the center of the room. 

Patrons shuffled out of the way, transfixed by your performance. Even your companions had stopped their chatter. 

Karlach and Shadowheart’s faces lit up in delight. A smile touched the corner of Gale’s mouth. Even Lae’zel and Wyll looked on with admiration at your skills. As for Astarion…Astarion just stared. 

You couldn’t quite read what was going on behind those scarlet eyes. It was a look you had caught him wearing more than once, always blinked away before you could fully comprehend its meaning. All you knew was how it made that dangerous hope spark in your chest. 

He caught you looking and quickly morphed his expression to its familiar smirk. The bastard even had the audacity to wink. 

You rolled your eyes pretending not to have seen. It was all part of the game after all. He pretended to care, you pretended not to fall for it. 

A lute suddenly joined you from one of the corners, strumming its way into a new song. 

You turned as a cheer rose, encouraging the intrusive lutist forward. He was human by the look of him and certainly skilled in his own right. He took a moment to embellish your solo before taking over with one of his own. Soon enough you joined the conversation again with a counter melody. It wasn’t as clean as you would have liked it. The lad clearly had meant to upstage you, but you made sure to put him in line, allowing the impromptu duet to end in some kind of harmony. 

You transitioned easily to a new song as he took a seat, bowing to you as he did.

Remembering your showmanship, you made a point to bow in return, schooling your expression into a flirtatious grin before pulling away. That earned the man a round of cheers from his friends and a few obvious oohs from the crowd; exactly as you intended. 

You continued on with the remainder of your set. Requests were shouted from the audience, all the pieces of music moving to and from your fingers with practiced grace.  By the end of it, your arms were exhausted, but your face hurt from smiling. Gods you had missed this. 

As you took your bow, applause followed you back to your table as well as a handful of extra coin. 

“That was amazing!” Karlach said, beaming at you. “How’d you learn to play like that?”

“Years of practice,” you said, with pride. “Had to find an honest living somehow.”

“Well, it was beautifully done,” Gale added. “Maybe next time we make camp you could grace us with another performance. Provided we’re not all about to die of course.”

You shot him a grin. “I could be persuaded.” 

The wizard turned his gaze away, his lips turning into a knowing smirk. “You’ve been unnaturally quiet Astarion. Been bewitched have you?”

The vampire blinked as if coming out of deep thought. It was only in those last moments did you realize just how intently he had been looking in your direction.

“Yes,” he said, a little stiffly, “you were quite…good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Be careful there. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm me with praise.”

He regarded you a moment before a sly smile turned at his lips. 

You were almost relieved. That look you understood at least. 

“If it’s praise you crave, you need only ask,” he purred. “You, my dear, are an unparalleled talent. Your beauty and grace alone should have brought you into the presence of kings. A true diamond in the rough.”

You snorted out a laugh.

“No good?” he continued. “How about this one; if I die tomorrow and the gods grant me mercy it will be your song that brings me into the beyond.”

You gave him a slow clap. “Brava.” 

He inclined his head in a little bow. “But seriously, you were good and you didn’t even destroy the furniture. Admittedly though, I wouldn’t have minded if he had met with a little accident.” 

You followed Astarion’s eye line to the lute player chatting with his friends. He perked up as he felt eyes on him. Without the distraction of playing, you could easily tell he was handsome in that sun kissed farmer’s son kind of way. Probably had most of the girls in the village swooning. 

He raised a tankard to you in toast.

You met the gesture in acknowledgment. 

“He wasn’t that bad,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

“He was the worst part of your performance,” Astarion insisted. 

You knew he wasn’t wrong, but you couldn’t help but have your fun. 

“Oh my darling, don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, placing a hand over your heart.

“Certainly I am,” he said, clutching his own chest in turn. “He’s the only person I’ve seen you willing to make sweet music with. And judging from his looks, he would have much preferred it to be a private performance.” 

You didn’t bother looking over to the other table to see if he was telling the truth. It didn’t matter either way. It never did. Your answer was always the same. 

“He’ll have to keep waiting.” You shrugged. “Not my type.”

Astarion’s eyes narrowed slightly, leaning in closer. “And what exactly is?”

You didn’t answer, deciding instead to take a long sip of your ale.

He continued to eye you, his lips pursed as if trying to solve a puzzle. After a few moments he let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine, keep your secrets, but I will figure it out eventually.”

Your lip twitched up into a half smile. “You may certainly try.” 

It was then one of the staff brought out a truly enormous cauldron of the most delicious smelling stew you had smelled in your life. 

You didn’t think to wait as you greedily poured a ladle full into your empty bowl. Two full days on the road with nothing but a handful of nuts and berries to sustain you had taken its toll. The rest of the group soon followed, each taking their share. You ate yours so quickly that by the time the ladle had made the circle, you were grabbing for seconds.  

“Hungry are we?” Astarion observed. 

You paused mid bite, heat rising in your cheeks. You took a quick look at everyone else. Nobody seemed to have noticed how you inhaled your food. They were content enough in their own bowls and conversation. Carefully you swallowed before self consciously setting down the spoon in your hand.  

           “I am the one who worked for this,” you said, more defensively than you intended. 

Astarion regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Even so, it’s not going to disappear the second you look away.” 

“Says you.” 

“Clever,” he said, dryly. “Devastating really. What’s next? Are you going to hit me with an “oh yeah” or Gods forbid a “your mother”?”

“I was actually leaning towards, “leave me to eat in peace you pompous jackass”.”

“Oh yes, that’s much better.”

You breathed out a frustrated sigh. Hopefully it would distract from your obvious embarrassment. You had thought you’d tucked those bad habits away. 

Years of living on your own had left you going to bed hungry more times than you cared to remember. There was a time food had disappeared from your plate if you didn’t eat it fast enough. Of course, things got better. You found music and people willing to listen. It gave you fire and shelter and a contented stomach on good nights. Still, there were the bad ones and old instincts took over. It took practice not to be as ravenous as you knew your nature to be. 

“Do I need to worry about your hunger?” you asked, deciding to change the subject. 

“Oh you of all people should know by now. I’m insatiable,” he crooned. 

Your eyes narrowed, unamused. “I’m being serious, when’s the last time you ate?”

He shrugged. “Few days. Last time I fed on you I imagine.” 

Your stomach gave a sudden guilt ridden twist. If that were the case, it had to have been at least three days ago. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because as much as the image of you swooning in my arms is appealing, I’d rather it be over my charms rather than blood loss.” He nodded his head towards the bowl. “From my own experience hunger and restraint don’t mix.” 

You tried to fight it. You really did. Years of instinct and reason told you not to fall for the softness in his eyes and voice. He simply didn’t want to explain a dead body to the rest of the party. It wasn’t out of some concern for your well being. And you absolutely could not allow yourself to believe he recognized the desperation in your actions and not pass judgment. If you believed that, you’d be in much more danger than you already were. 

“Excuse me deary,” an elderly voice asked. “I was wondering if I could have another moment of your time.”

You turned to see the barkeeper at your shoulder. 

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Of course.” 

You moved to stand, but she gestured you down. It was then you noticed she was carrying a case. It was worn with age, but clearly lovingly maintained as the edges shone with intricate gold inlay. 

“I know you already paid for your meal,” she said. “But I was hoping I could ask for one more performance tonight.”

She opened the case to reveal the most beautiful violin you’d ever laid eyes on. The wood was a carefully polished chestnut interrupted with carvings which matched those on the case. The strings shone like gold and the pegs carved marble. You may not be a trained wizard, but could feel the magic pulsing from every square inch of it. 

“What is this?”

“It was my father’s,” the woman explained. “He was a bard you see, best in these parts from what people told. He had so many stories and songs. Built it himself to help tell them. Try as I might though, I could never get it to play as sweetly. I was hoping you might.”

You looked to your companions. The obvious curiosity played on all their faces. 

With a cautious hand, you plucked one of the strings. 

It was perfectly in tune. The sound echoed, rich and vibrant even with so light a touch. The instrument itself seemed to glow as if happy to be played once again.

Slowly, you lifted it from the case, taking the bow in hand. You placed it on the strings and with an exhale drew the first notes. 

It was the loveliest sound you’d ever heard.  

The vibrations resinated in your fingers, moving through your arm and into your chest. 

You decided to start simple, a handful of scales to get the intonations just right. 

Color danced across the strings, rippling from your fingers like raindrops in a pond. 

“Woah,” Karlach said, her eyes widening in awe. “Are you doing that?”

“No,” you said, pausing your motions, as you let it fall slack in your hands. 

The elderly halfing smiled. “My father always said an artist puts their truth into every stroke of the bow. This here helps one’s heart shine. I saw the way you performed earlier, you’re not afraid to play what’s true.”

Color rose in your cheeks, unsure how to take such praise. “Thank you.”

She just smiled, nodding towards the instrument. “Keep playing. See what happens.”

You were suddenly aware of the rest of the party’s eyes turning expectantly towards you. Some with caution, some with anticipation, and one pair of red eyes with unreadable intentions. 

Knowing there was no way you were getting out of this now, you rose from your seat, placing the violin securely beneath your chin. 

You started slow, picking a tune every beginner memorized in their first lessons. 

The music sparkled in front of your eyes, twirling outward in melodic waves.

The hum of conversation began to die down as you spotted the barkeeper beckon for silence. 

You continued on, moving to something a little more complex, allowing yourself to let the rest of the room blur in the peripheries. 

The sound of boots on cobblestones met your ears. Glancing down you saw stone where hardwood floors had been. 

You took another step. 

The stones followed. 

Around you the room fluctuated between firelight and the brightness of morning. Looking up you could see a clear sky had replaced the hatched ceiling. 

A smile spread across your face as you stepped away from your bench. 

As if waiting for your queue the rest of the bar quickly moved tables and chairs out of the way, clearing the center floor. 

The sun followed as the cobblestones spread out in front of you like a stream. With every flourish, finer details were added. You changed the direction allowing a building to form beside you, then another and another. Images of people faded in and out like memories, coming and going with the flow of the music. 

You never felt anything like this before. The strings sang inside you, drawing out a melody you knew was there, but had always managed to slip from your grasp. 

You surrendered to its current, following it deeper and deeper until all you could see, all you could touch was the music. 

Behind your eyes the streets began to turn and change. Buildings loomed large overhead. You could hardly see the stars. A cold swept through your clothes, the chords of the melody vibrating with the shivers in your hands. The world was so much bigger and you were so much smaller. 

No instrument laid in your hands, but still the music played on as if you had slipped into a dream. 

You continued to walk unsure of where your feet were carrying you until something warm pressed against your back. Light reflected behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. A melody played, soft and soothing against your own. You turned towards it as the voices of long forgotten conversation and laughter accompanied the strings of a quartet.

Your chords and theirs brushed up against each other, a new light shining in the darkness, but just as soon as it began, it moved away, leaving you on your own once again. 

You continued on, brushing against others. Sparks would fly, fire would ignite only for them it fade in front of your eyes. 

Your own melody grew more desperate, moving and shaping itself to match whoever you found next only just able to cling onto the barest sense of itself. 

An ache grew in your chest as you wandered, always searching, never finding. Something warm trailed down your cheeks. You let it flow, unable to stop. You wouldn’t end the story here, even as swirls of blues and blacks surrounded you. They wrapped around your body, filling your vision and squeezing tight around you until you felt the air being pushed out of your lungs. There was nothing else.  Even the music had gone dead. 

For what felt like a moment and eternity you sat there, alone in the dark. 

A voice came to you then, but it didn’t come from the instrument tucked somewhere under your chin.  No melody accompanied it. It was so far away. Something about it was so familiar. It spoke your name like a desperate prayer. You reached out for it.

The air itself moved around you as if you had plucked the very strings of the universe. 

A low hum came next bringing with it two pin pricks of light. A red fire glowed in the darkened space, growing until they sat as two eyes burning in the air. 

You cocked your head to the side. Your own song started again, cautious as it curled around the eyes, examining them from different angles. 

The eyes crinkled at the edges, amused by your persistence. 

With a blur of motion, it turned to the side allowing a profile to form and beginning an enticing melody of its own. 

You and the face took turns, calling and answering in playful antagonism. 

The lines of light continued downward as its counter melody grew in strength against your own, forming the outline of a man.

He stepped towards you, his own head turning to the side as yours had done before, examining you from every angle. 

After a moment, he bowed. You curtseyed. And then you did what only felt natural. You danced.

The heat of his touch burned your skin, but you didn’t dare pull away. You had been cold for so long you hadn’t even known you were cold. Even when it became too much, the fear of the darkness kept you in his light. 

The man in turn held you close, his song teasing against your own. So unlike the duet from before, this was a true conversation, the pair of you giving and taking in equal measure. You didn’t want it to stop, holding the feeling tighter and tighter until you felt the pulse of his fire inside you. 

You looked up to find the embers of his eyes pouring into you.  He moved your hand to his chest. A heart pumped beneath and you knew then it wasn’t his own. Just as you had taken from him, he had taken from you in equal measure. 

His face came into focus, forming a familiar knowing smirk and playful scarlet eyes.

He stepped back from you, his hand holding yours as he bowed, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. 

The song faded away and you were once again in your own body, a violin tucked carefully beneath your chin. 

You blinked your eyes open to find the tavern standing as it had been moments ago.  Patrons surrounded you, their eyes wide and mouths open. You glanced around the room, quickly finding your companions. Horror struck you as you read their expression. 

They’d seen it. All of it. 

Before you could register what was happening a wave of applause erupted from the crowd. People began to cheer. You heard awed whoops and hollers. The adoration was overwhelming and completely miss timed. You needed to lie down. You needed to think. 

Numbly you bowed before making your way to the side of the room where the barkeeper stood. 

You held the instrument out to her, unable to look her directly in the eye. 

“Thank you for letting me play this,” you said. 

To your surprise she didn’t take it, instead pushing your hands away with a shake of her head. 

“Keep it love,” she said. “After seeing all that, feels wrong to take it away from you. You’ve more than earned the right to it.”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to scream. You wanted to curse her for ever asking you to touch the damned thing. Somehow you managed to swallow all of that down, mumbling another thank you before slowly turning towards your party. 

There was still a chance to salvage this. Astarion hadn’t seen his own reflection in centuries. He didn’t know what he looked like. You could play this whole thing up to artistic license. You just carried a general feeling of desperate longing. No need for you to clarify its direction. 

Making a point to keep your head down, you put the violin away and slid it over to Gale. 

“Feel free to eat this one if you want,” you said. It was meant to be a joke, but even you could feel it fall flat. 

“I don’t think I can do that,” Gale said, his tone holding nothing but sympathy. 

“It really was lovely,” Wyll said, gently. 

“Beautiful really,” Shadowheart added. 

Your jaw tightened, caught between the urge to scream or weep. Why couldn’t everybody do you the favor of the lifetime and forget they saw anything. 

“Personally I don’t understand your choice in the spawn, but–” Lae’zel started only to be hit hard in the arm by Karlach.

“What?” she snapped. 

Your whole body cringed, knowing exactly what was coming next. 

“That was…me?” 

You were in hell. This was hell. You didn’t have to look up to see Astarion’s self satisfied expression. His tone made it clear enough.

In a flash you stepped back from the table, putting as much distance between you and the party as possible. 

“I need to go,” you managed. “Goodnight.” 

You sprinted out of the tavern, taking two steps of the time to the upper rooms. You didn’t stop until your door was firmly slapped behind you. 

Your breaths came hard as your heart pounded in your chest. Honestly you didn’t know how you locked the door. Your hands were shaking so badly as tears blurred your vision. All the emotions the violin had pulled from you returned, overwhelming you in their intensity. 

The instrument had done as advertised. It had shown the truth of your heart, putting it on display for the whole world to see. Gods you were an idiot. Why did you even pick up that damned thing? 

You kept your ears open, listening as everyone made their way to their rooms. Their murmurs never made it past the walls, but the way they paused as they passed your door made it clear enough they were discussing you. Thankfully they were kind enough to leave you be. 

Counting, you waited until all six doors shut before rising to your feet. 

As you did, you felt a small pull at the back of your mind. A vision of a door number and the feeling of anticipation sat on your tongue. The invitation was clear enough; Astarion was waiting for you. 

You wanted to ignore it, but you knew you couldn’t. There was no use in pretending any longer. The game was over and you would have to face the consequences.

With a steeling breath, you walked out the door. You could only hope Astarion wouldn’t hate you when it was all over.

[jumbojazzcats93]

Should've been a Cowboy - Soap

Summary - Cowboy Johnny has a penchant for keeping a woman on her toes.

Tags/Warnings - Should've been a Cowboy by Toby Keith, MDNI 18+, smut, cussing, drinking, biting, anxiety, religious values, old fashioned mindsets, part 1 of ????

@glossysoap @lordlydragon @grizzersmamma @ivymarquis @gremlingottoosilly @quietlyignoringyou @violet-phantoms @ghastlybirdie Banners by @/saradika-graphics

A woman living alone in the prairie was a risk. Bandits or crude cowboys could come along whenever they wanted and wreak havoc on your little homestead. By the grace of God, it never happened, but the threat was always there.

Your livestock guardian dogs would alert if any uninvited guests appeared, but the nights were always relatively uneventful. Stray coyotes came to test the worth of your dogs, but you'd never been given instance to doubt their abilities. It's why you jumped sky high, 2 steps out onto your front porch when you went out for your morning chores on the farm. A large body laid limp in your rocking chair; boots still on and hat drawn down over his eyes. Your 2, apparently worthless, dogs were laying next to the man's feet, sheepishly wagging at the sight of you.

You snatched the towel from your belt and began whipping at him with it. "Johnny MacTavish! How dare you sleep on my porch!" Johnny flings himself from the chair, stumbling to the ground. Your towel finds him over and over, "Stop, Lass! Please, I'm sorry!" His hand finally grabs a hold of the towel, "I didn't wanna wake ya up last night!" You stare at him on the ground as you both held tightly onto the towel... before releasing it and letting him fall back. Hands on your hips, you looked down at him, "You scared me!" He slowly sat up with a sheepish smile and you sighed, fighting against your own smile with pursed lips. "Come on inside and get cleaned up, then." Snatching your towel back from him and turning to the door, you glanced back at him still sprawled on your porch as you headed back inside.

One bath later and you're cleaning up your kitchen while Johnny's sat at your dining table scarfing down the fresh breakfast you'd made him. You'd zoned out; staring out the window at the extra horse that now grazed in your pasture. "I missed you, dearie." Warm breath whispered against your neck, jolting you out of your daze. His strong arms slid around your waist in a soothing effort. "It's been so long... what were you doing?", you questioned. Johnny squeezes his arms and presses his face into the crook of your neck, "Well... I won't taint your lovely mind with such gritty tales." You hummed absently. "Dont fret, bonnie girl... You know I always come back."

That he did... but he would never stay long.

Coming into the parlour room at the end of the day felt odd. Seeing Johnny fast asleep in one of your arm chairs makes you wonder, again, what he had been doing all this time. Normally, he'd never be away longer than a month, but this time you'd been alone for almost 8 months. At first, you'd wait on the porch some nights. By the end of the second month, some nights became every night, and by the end of the fourth month you'd given up on the idea of him coming back. You're not really sure if the things he did were legal, if he had other women. He never went into detail about his exploits, but you always knew it was safer not knowing.

You sit on the arm chair opposite to him with a cup of strong cider. A new and nasty little habit you'd had to hide from the other ladies in your congregation when they came to visit. They'd been wanting so badly for you to marry and had no idea why you'd been so disinterested in all the suitors that had come from town. Your eyes focuse in on Johnny. Watching him sleep put you at ease for the time being. He never wanted anything from you, but that was half the problem. Other men saw something material to gain when they approached you. Your farm and all your property were a great asset after all. Johnny was straightforward. He wanted nothing, but your attention when he was here.

When was the key word. People in town would be scandalized to know of his irregular presence in your home.

Before you knew it your cup was dry. Sighing and briefly clenching the cup in your hands, you stood from your seat. "Johnny...", you called out gently to his sleeping mass. He made no move to wake as you slowly approached. The firelight lit his tan skin in such a complementary way that you let out an appreciative sigh. Shirt slightly unbuttoned, legs spread wide, his body slumped into the chair with his head lolled to the side. "Johnny.", you called louder. A lack of response made you come closer until you stood between his legs. Reaching out, you ran a hand up his chest to his neck where you brushed your thumb across his cheek. His head shifted to rest against your hand and he peeked one eye open. "Coming onto a man while he sleeps is rather uncouth now, dearie." An uncontrollable smile broke out on your face in response.

His hand grabbed yours and slid it to his lips for a kiss while his other hand grabbed the waistline of your skirt to pull you closer. Tired eyes held yours as another kiss was placed against your palm. Your knee rested on the cushion between his thighs; a deep inhale and his eyes fluttering shut were the only indication he had felt your knee pressing against the crotch of his pants. "Come to bed?", you whispered. After a pregnant pause, he dramatically slumps back into the seat, "Carry me." You scoff a laugh and pull yourself free from him. He grabs at you like a phantom. You're just barely out of his immediate reach.

"If you're not upstairs by the time I'm out of my day wear, you'll be locked out for the night." An empty threat that you know he knows, but he gives a dramatic start anyways. "You wouldn't dare.", he counters dramatically. You back up slowly as he rises, both of you wearing playful grins. By the time he's chasing you up the steps, the brightness of his smile has left your relentless worries in the shadows.

The boards of the second floor groan under your hurried and careless steps. Johnny has you cornered in the upstairs hallway within seconds. His eyes are alight with something wild and his canines glint in the candle light as he grins from ear to ear. Your heart is hammering in excitement within your chest. You reach out a hand to touch his chest as he draws nearer. Your fingers brush against his exposed skin as your back thumps against the wall. Eyes meet and he looks feral. You can only imagine what you look like to him with your skin flushed from drink, hair sitting loose after your playful chase. His eyes shift to your hair as he reaches for a loose lock and gently twirls it around his finger, murmuring, "You should know better than to play games with me when I've been away for so long, lass." Johnny slides his finger down your throat, following it with his gaze. You lick your lips and his eyes lock onto the movement.

"You've been rather cold to me all day." He muses and looks up to meet your eyes. "I did miss you.", he reaffirms.

It's almost jarring to be reminded of your unease and uncertainty in this state. The questions about where he'd been and who he'd been with. Were there other women like you? Did he really think of you when he was gone? Why had he been away so long this time?

A warm hand runs firmly from the top of your breast up to your neck until two hands are tilting your head up and your eyes are focusing back in on Johnny. "Don't think about it so much."

"I thought you'd gone home to Scotland... and I'd never see you again."

Your words are quiet. He sighs deep with his thumb brushing your cheek affectionatly as he leans in and kisses you. It's avoidant of him, but it's nothing new... so you let it go. Give in to him knowing it'll just drive him away if you don't.

You let him pick you up and carry you into your bedroom. As he lays you down on your bed, your skirt slides up your legs drawing his attention. Johnny falls to his knees in front of you; taking your leg and throwing it over his shoulder, he laves wet kisses along your inner thigh. Upon reaching the softest part, he bites down making you gasp out. The bite is hard enough to know that the mark left behind will bruise before the night is over. Johnny pulls your underwear down and your heart races. It's another thing the ladies of your congregation would be scandalized by; premarital sex. It was even worse that you had no defined relationship with Johnny. You'd been personally, religiously, and if anyone found out, socially ruined for any other man.

Your arm flew up to cover your face and Johnny chuckled at your embarrassment. His fingers graze your cunt before slowly pressing in. Your face pressing deeper into your arm. It wasn't like you'd never laid with Johnny before, but 8 months was a long time and you'd forgotten the intensity of it all. Suddenly, his fingers are pulling out of you and his tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit causing you to jolt forward a bit and squeal. "Eeeaasy, lass." Johnny shushes you as he stands up, undoing his jeans. You watch wide eyed as he pulls his cock out. He reaches out, dragging his fingers along your slit to collect your juices and uses it to wet his cock. "Take a deep breath for me, dearie." A smirk creeps onto his face, "I'm sure you've been waiting for me like a proper little lady."

The feeling when he slides his cock into you is electrifying and it has you letting out a soft, shakey moan. He starts with shallow, gentle thrusts. Taking your legs and wrapping them around his hips, he props one knee on the bed. His hands slide up your thighs until he's gripping your hips. When you look back up at his face, he's watching you. The way you look at him must spark something because he suddenly grabs your thighs and presses them right up to your chest. While it's something he's done before, it's been so long that the sensation is just too overwhelming. You moan loudly, struggling in his hold a bit as he starts to lose that gracious bit of gentleness he'd afforded you. His thrusts are an even pace, but their hard; striking your gspot everytime. In this position you know you won't last very long. You're clenching tightly on his cock, an absolute moaning mess as he fucks you.

Johnny lets go of your thighs and leans forward onto his hands. Still thrusting into you, he reaches one hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your lips. You moan and he slides his fingers into your mouth. The ones previously inside your cunt. You're holding his stare while you suck on his fingers. His mouth hangs open, panting and his shaggy Mohawk sticks to his forehead with sweat. In a defiant move you bite down. Not enough to hurt, but enough to elicit a reaction. His hips buck erratically when you do causing you to moan his name and let his fingers go. His hand is instantly on your jaw forcing you to look at him. "What a brave little lass you are, biting me." His chuckle and aggressive tone strike through your body and make your pussy clench. "Ahh... yeah, love, I knew you liked it a little rough." He reaches his free hand down as he speaks and slaps your clit. "Just took a little while for you to show it."

Your orgasm is building up the more he teases you, all you can do is nod and moan eagerly in agreement, praying he doesn't stop. You grab onto his forearms and look down to watch his cock as he fucks it into you. The way your body reacts must be so familiar to him at this point because he slows down and grinds into you, still playing with your clit as he feels you reach the start of your orgasm. Your pussy spasms wildly as you cum. Your head falls back and your stomach clenches while your loud moans fill the house. Johnny's groaning is drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears as you relax. He's fucking you through your orgasm to desperately reach his own and it doesn't take long. With a whispered, "Fuck." His thrusts become frantic, his panting gets louder until he quickly pulls out and grabs your hand; guiding you to jerk him off. His hand squeezes and guides yours until he's cumming all over your stomach and cunt with a loud moan. His hips buck involuntarily as he overstimulates himself.

Your gentle puffs mix with his heavy pants. You watch his body jolt as you let go of his cock and use your clean hand to reach out to his face. Your hand slides from his cheek to the back of his neck. He's leaning down before you even have to pull him. Leaning up and meeting him in the middle, you share a final heated kiss.

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

How the Rhodolite princes would react to their firstborn/newborn

Rating: PG-13 (?) Ikepri itself contains a lot of mature themes however, as such, mdni 🔞

Warnings: Brief mentions of (past) character death, grief, pregnancy/childbirth themes (no actual birth depicted), gn but implied afab, & the usual tragic Ikepri cannon.

A/N: Tried to write how they'd hold their kid and what they were feeling when meeting them. Spoiler warnings for the Rhodolite princes routes, tried not to bring up anything major though (Luke's is probably the most spoilery?). Tried to keep the princes' spouses GN, though implied afab bc newborns. (One very brief mention of Belle, but mc/reader is not Emma.) Might eventually make pt2 with the others..? Please read the warnings and proceed only if comfortable! :)

(Apologies for anything that seems ooc, I haven't written much in awhile and this is my first piece for Ikepri! I'm more used to fics rather than hcs, but I tried my best! o7)

JIN 🦅

There's so much Jin can't help but worry about. His past, his future, his country... and now he's got not one but two loved ones he would do anything for. The little bundle of joy in his arms reminds him of the times when his younger brothers were born, and how cute they used to be (well, some of them, anyway). The bleary, garnet eyes trying to look into his own have him wondering.. is this how he looked to his dear mother? There's so much he cherishes, and so much he fears, but he won't let the history of Belle repeat itself. He'd fight the entire palace if he had to, but for right now, he'll settle for tackling pesky burps and dirty diapers. Jin coos at his baby, baritone voice suddenly startling the poor thing, and he can't help but pout. The baby in his arms continues to fuss, feeling hungry.

Jin pulls something out of his breast pocket, looking over at his spouse. "So.. how much longer until they can have lollipops?"

CHEVALIER 🐅

Chevalier would likely be a bit awed upon holding his firstborn, much like the quiet way he takes in Emma's precence. Chevalier is known to be awkward with his affections, as he's far from practiced, but it's been shown on several occasions how he tries to gently pet an animal that dares to come close, or how he clumsily takes care of his love when they're feeling under the weather. He may look fine on the outside, but he's actually quite hesitant, trying to sort things out logistically at first, before sort of just settling for standing there and holding his newborn with both arms. He stares down at their gentle features, taking in every detail, making sure they're comfortable and warm in their sleep.

Looking over at his beloved in all their tired glory, in his very own Chevalier-approved affection he says, "You did well, Simpleton." While he only speaks four words aloud, his faint smile speaks the thousands he didn't quite know how to express.

CLAVIS 🐆

"Dearie me," Clavis says, holding his newborn, full of wide-eyed excitement. "They look so much like you, I can see the bunny ears already."

Being someone who values life so dearly, bringing a new one into this world, with the love of his life no less, is enough to send Clavis' heart soaring into the stratosphere. He just can't help but want to drown them in affection, but they're so small and fragile, and Clavis knows better than to risk scaring them now. He's so, so gentle with his child, unconditional love flowing off him in waves as they bond quietly (please don't get used to this, it will not last), and looks upon their splotchy tufts of lilac hair. The Lelouch genes live on through yet another generation, he smiles to himself. Clavis slowly comes over to stand by his love, placing a gentle kiss on their head.

"You're so lucky to have such a wonderful husband like me. But I'm even luckier to have you both in my life."

LEON 🦁

The happiest day in Leon's life. Second only to your wedding. Scratch that, the wedding is second.. he thinks. He's a bit frazzled from work, labor stress, and all the chaos, cut the guy some slack. No one is immune to this sweet lion's charisma, not even a newborn. They can't help but stare at his flowy hair and bright eyes, like a cartoon character come to life right before their eyes. Leon gently caresses their neck, very lightly pressing a kiss into their soft kiss to their temple. What kind of person will they grow up to be? Will they eat as much as he does? Will they fall asleep when they read too? There's a lot that runs through his mind, but ultimately, he is hopes for them to be healthy, and live happily. This child is going to be absolutely spoiled (within reason), and always have someone in their corner, rooting for them and ready to help learn from their wrongs. For now, he can worry about righting their posture instead. He tries to hold them like he read (how his partner read) in the parenting books, supporting their necks and all. It was really hard to stay awake during those, but the excitement of fatherhood helped him push through, and he's going to put it all into practice now.

"When do we start working on the second one?" (If not for the literal newborn currently in his hands, he'd be busy dodging several pillows.)

YVES 🐈

There's a lot of suppressed guilt for his mother's death in mind, and so many worries for his darling's health before, during, and after. He's a bit scared to hold his newborn, for fear of his clumsiness and "bad luck". With some assurance, he finally takes hold of them, and he could not physically be more careful with his firstborn. Clear eyes like the sky blink sleepily up at him, and Yves is fighting back tears solely for fear of them landing on the baby and somehow hurting them. The smile on his face could split his cheeks if it got any wider. The baby falls asleep in its father's arms, and he even tries breathing softer so he won't wake them. He's just trying his best, please reassure this sweet cat, he means well. (And he absolutely lost the battle against those blasted tears anyway.)

"Thank you for loving me, and for bringing our child into the world with us. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

LICHT 🐺

(Twins having twins cliché may seem redundant, I made 'em different for each brother, pinky promise.)

Licht was blessed with not one but two bundles of joy. Beautiful twin boys, who had what looked to be his vibrant silver hair and his beloved's eyes. He couldn't help the memories that surged, of happier times, and the worst of times. He knew all too well just how ruthless the court could be, but he had a chance to make things different this time. Licht seriously considered building that house he'd once mentioned, and moving you all somewhere much more peaceful. One twin in his arms, one with their other parent, he feels all thought subside when the one he's holding tries to grab at his sleeve. Licht's now-famous smile blooms across his lips much the way the sun's rays appear over daybreak; subtle, then all at once. He takes a gloveless hand, letting their tiny hand hold onto his finger as best they can, eyes gleaming from the sight before him. Licht looks over in wonder at his spouse, only to find them already watching with a tired, quiet smile.

"Things won't be easy but.. I know we can handle anything. I adore you. And I adore them."

NOKTO 🦊

(Twins for both may seem redundant, but I changed things up drastically ok, we got this.)

Nokto wasn't entirely surprised to have twins, but he had also hoped luck would be in their corner in avoiding similar fates. Two little girls, jewel-like eyes like his, and his beloved's hair color (or so it appears, though it's hard to tell for sure with so little peach fuzz). Nokto sits at the edge of the bed, holding one newborn in his arm, and reaching his other hand out for the one in his love's arms. Aside from the memories of his own upbringing, he's now having Typical Girl Dad thoughts about how to keep them safe and teach them how to stay away from cooties (boys), among other things. With a soft sigh, he gently burps his newborn after she's done feeding, rocking her slowly as she tries to chew on her father's lucious locks. Laughter bubbles past his lips at her cute antics, and Nokto feels the stress fade away, even if just a little. His heart is still getting used to receiving love and believing in it, but it's grown enough by now to love his 3 new favorite people in the world.

"If they like my hair this much now, just wait till they start to grow their own."

LUKE 🐻

Luke could not be more the picture of a teddy bear than with his newborn all swaddled up and snuggled in with their giant of a dad. He can't help but wonder if his sister is watching over them, laying next to his spouse on the bed, their newborn but a tiny dot among the two full-grown humans taking up most of the space. He promises to be there for his child the way he never really had anyone, and hopes to live more in the present now, the stakes feeling higher than ever before. A whole new life, created on purpose, gently resting in one arm and atop his broad chest, nestled comfortably and trying to suck on their thumb. Luke holds his spouse's hand with his free one, squeezing it gently, looking into their eyes with the intensity of his own emeralds.

"Look at 'em.. they're so small. Just like you," he jokes before letting out a big yawn, "But sleepy, just like me."

All rights for the characters and original intellectual property belong to Cybird. My writing belongs to myself, Maladaptivedaydreamsx, and shall not be reproduced elsewhere without permission. Ok to translate as a reblog to this post. Ok to reblog, no permission required (for those who like to be safe and ask first, all's good little homies) 💜

If you enjoyed these, I might try to make a pt2 with the other characters soon? Likes and reblogs appreciated, thank you kindly for reading! If you have any hc's of your own, please feel free to respond with them, I'd love to hear what you all think! 😊❤️ (If you'd like to be put on a tag list for any future works, please reply, though it will be a general list for writings as I'm getting back into things slowly atm,, 🙏🏻)

Also, to the lovely person who sent this in likely about 2 years ago (after I'd stopped writing on here bc life happens) ... if you're still somewhere in the fandom and end up seeing this post, thank you for your patience, and for sending something in. I'm finally trying to combat the writer's block again! 🙌🏻

[emo-trash101]

HELLO HELLO ONYX,DEARIE!!

I'm baaaack!~

(me,coming to your blog when I have an Idea because I want to feed you: )

The platonic asker,yours truly,has come once more to request a new platonic headcanon!

May I please have platonic! any character you'd like (Maybe Alastor,Vox and Lucifer,but you may change that as always! All characters are welcome.) With Child!Gn!Reader that randomly goes out (maybe teleports? Idk,just a random idea) and brings back random sinners (mostly poor and homeless) at the hotel/the character's work and goes "They wanted to work for/with you!!" with that little sweet and innocent voice of theirs? They're really naive and talks to everyone really kindly,a bit like my first ask! They're just a sweet sunshine kid that wants to help those in need! It's not their fault there are bad people that may use them,they just want to help!!

Anyways,I think that's good for me!!

Here's another reminder to take care of yourself! Eat,drink and sleep well,honey!

Enjoy writing this new prompt <33

Stay proud,

-Nina <33

I MISSEDD YOUUUU!!! And that prompt is giving me flashbacks to when I brought a feral raccoon into my house when I was a little kid lmao. But I love this!

Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer x Sweet Child! reader

THIS IS STRICTLY PLATONIC AND SHOULD ONLY BE TAKEN AS SUCH

Pronouns: Second person, gender neutral

Tw: Kidnapping? (Can a child kidnap someone?), pedos, general hazbin hotel

Alastor -

- I would say this man would be disappointed but in all honesty, he probably taught you how to steal people by accident.

- It would most likely take place after Charlie goes on one of her rants about how she needs more people at the hotel, and you being the cute little child you are, waddle away to go find some.

- I feel like he wouldn't particularly notice you missing until you show back up, random ass sinner in tow.

- Obviously you get lectured by everyone for stealing a person off the street and bringing him to where you live.

- cause...y'know...pedophiles happen to be in hell.

- But after you pull out the cute little eyes and the "I just wanted to help" everyone kinda gives up.

- Alastor does make you release him back outside like a butterfly you grabbed (omg that is something I never thought I would write)

Vox -

- As I've mentioned before, this man kinda lowkey sucks.

- Like Alastor, probably accidentally taught you how to steal someone, but he probably did it on purpose or some shit.

- You'd most likely see him murder fire another one of his workers and decide that he needs an immediate replacement.

- So you take your two little feet and waddle down the streets of hell asking anyone and everyone if they want to work for Vox.

- Obviously everyone wants to work for the Vees, so you end up bringing like a hoard of people to the office and kinda just, bring them in.

- As I've mentioned, this man would not notice you being gone like, ever, so when you magically show tf up with like 70 people all in tow, he is partially impressed and partially confused.

- He asks you why you brought so many people and you just look up at him with your cute little baby doll eyes and go "I thought you needed someone to replace mr. dead guy".

- He honestly kinda appreciates it and gives you a little pat on the head as he kills kicks out everyone you brought.

Lucifer -

- This man pays copious amounts of attention to you so the fact you were able to waddle away to go collect people off the street is honestly astounding.

- He was like, super art blocked and could not come up with another idea for a duck, and it was starting to piss both of you off.

- So you do your little thing and walk off by yourself to collect another person to help come up with some sweet succulent duck ideas.

- Well turn out, creepy people exist in hell (surprise surprises).

- So a creepy ass guy follows you to the palace and when you get back Lucifer panics.

- He was worried you died or something and was about to go find you when you show up with a rando behind you.

- Lucifer politely scolds you for running off like that, but before you could introduce him to the guy you found to help, the guy left.

- So you give up and instead devote a lot of your time to making a new rubber duck

- Lucifer ends up making a duck that can track where you are incase you go wandering off again.

This was so funny to write, I hope y'all enjoyed reading it!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 45

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"How was it, dearie?" Dottie asks as you get in.

You keep your cool. Something about that house dampens your spirits. You look her in the eye grimly and shrug.

"Luna baby missed ya," she chimes, "first time away from ya and all."

"Oh?" You tweak a brow apathetically, "she hungry?"

She sighs, "you're her mama."

You narrow your eyes. She can probably read your thoughts across your face. Yeah, and what about her father?

"I pumped all that milk before I went. I can't feed her now, I had some mimosas," you turn your palms out, "you'll have to start the formula."

"Nothing wrong with that. I sent you out to have fun," she gives a clamped smile, "I got enough for the youngin. She's still nappin'."

"Great," you mutter, "I'm gonna lay down."

"I'll bring her up to ya before I tuck in," Dottie offers.

"Sure," you turn away and drag your feet to the stairs.

Your escape was all too brief. The afterglow fades quickly as you climb up to the second floor. The giddiness of making out with Andy in his backseat dissipates as you're drowned in the gloom of that house.

You go into the guestroom where you've made your nest and undress. You lay under the blankets, in silence, without a light. For once you just want to know where you stand with a man and with Andy it's clear. You both just need to forget about all the shit in your life.

Just two more weeks. You won't have your body back, you don't think you ever will, but you will be able to enjoy it. You didn't realise how much you'd miss intimacy until it wasn't there. Not him, never him, just the feeling of another person against you.

🍑

You sit on the bench and tie your sneaker. You don't feel great. Your hips hurt, your back hurts, and you're tired as hell. Still, you don't want to stay in that house.

You stand up and check the stroller again. The baby's secure and staring at nothing with her glassy eyes. You don't get it. She just lays there, then shrieks, then dribbles down milk and sleeps again.

"Oh, sweetie, you off somewhere?" Dottie comes out from the kitchen.

"Just a walk. Been long enough I can move a bit better," you say casually.

"And you're taking the sweet one with you?"

You hear the hopefulness in her voice. She wants you to love the baby. She wants to believe that child is the one redeeming quality she can claim for her son.

"Yeah, might as well," you say as you turn and grab the stroller, turning it to angle after you as you approach the door.

"You want me to come with y'all?" She asks.

You swallow. Don't show your hand.

"If you want," you say dully.

"Ah, don't let me get in your way," she thinks better of it. "I'll be here."

"Won't be long," you say as you get the door open and back out, carefully pulling out the stroller with you, keeping it even as you roll over the edge of each step.

"It's getting chilly out, you got enough blankets?" She calls after you.

"All good," you assure her.

She watches you go, waving from the porch as you twist the stroller around. You keep an even pace as you head through the gate. You don't want her to see your eagerness. You wait until you're beyond the property to pull out your phone. You rest it on the handle and read the last message from Andy. He's coming.

You don't go very fast. You still feel very much unready. You look down at the baby as she rests her fist against her cheek. Something about her nose reminds you of him...

You shake your head. Don't. You don't want to give him that power. He threw all that out when he disappeared.

As you get to the corner, Andy appears. He wears a dark blue hoodie over a grey tee. He approaches with a smile and peers inside the stroller brightly. He leans in to coo at the baby.

"She's getting big."

"I guess," you utter.

"We're Dot?" He looks down the sidewalk.

You frown. Shit. Did you misinterpret?

"I left her behind. Why--"

"Making sure," he winks and leans in to give you a kiss, surprising you. He hooks his arm around you, holding you to him as he deepens the gesture. You push on his chest until he finally relents.

"Andy," you gasp.

"What? I can't help myself. You look... good," he grins.

"Don't lie," you roll your eyes.

He chuckles, "something about your cynicism is really sexy."

"Okay, now you're being a jerk."

He tilts his head and turns to stand beside you. You fall back into step as you give a cautious glance up and down the street. Who would even care? Lloyd isn't around and even if he was, he didn't chat up the neighbourhood.

You head down towards the park. As you get to the bench, you grab Andy and sit at the outskirts of the grass. You brace your lower back and grunt as he holds onto the stroller and kicks down he brakes.

"You okay?"

"Bad back," you hiss as you lean against the metal backing, "been like this for years."

"Old football injury?" He kids.

"You're funny," you sniff.

"I try," he rolls the stroller back and forth, soothing the baby. "So..."

"So..." you look off towards the playground where parents watch their children scream and run around.

"When do you think you could... sneak out?" He asks, fingers tapping above his knee.

"Um," you can't help a smile, cheeks hot, "when do you--" you stop yourself, "you know I can't... do much for at least another week and a half," you keep your voice low.

"Of course, I wasn't-- I hope you don't think--"

"I know, Andy," you bite your lip and look away, "let's not complicate this. Because it's already fucked up so let's just enjoy it while we can."

He nods and lowers his lashes, "yeah, I can do that. How about... I give you a massage tonight? Promise not to get handsy. Purely practical. Get those muscles loosened up."

You scoff, "I might be able to figure something out."

"I could always come to you," he suggests, leaning in to push his shoulder into you.

"We'll see," you look at the baby. She's fast asleep. Yeah, this isn't going to be easy.

🍑

Andy says goodbye at the corner. You don't need Dottie catching on or making any suggestions. You know at heart where her loyalties lie.

You come up to the house and nearly trip on the wheels of the stroller. You recognise the car in the driveway. Right, good timing.

As you walk along the pavement, the front door opens and Suzanne appears with a glint in her eye, "there you are."

"Suzanne," you greet her breathless, "how are you–"

"So when was I going to find out the baby was here?"

"Um, I've been…tied up."

"Of course you have but Lloyd didn't even mention it," she beams over at the baby, "aw, thank god she doesn't take after him."

"Right, well, I guess he isn't much into sharing his private business–"

"A baby is kinda a big deal. I thought at least he'd take time off."

You stare at her. You try not to show your irritation, "well, you know, he's always been a workaholic."

"Not fucking really. He took one job and cut contact a week ago. It's why I'm here. Thought the fuckwit might be laying low."

"Nope, not here. Just us."

"And Mama Hansen. Yeah, I met her. Just as unbearable as her son," she tuts, "I'll make sure to send his ass home once I find him."

You nod. You don't know how to respond. You're not sure how to lie when your tongue won't work. She watches you and her forehead creases between her brows.

"Alright," she pokes her tongue into her lower lip and clicks, "when's the last time you saw him?"

You just look back at her blankly. Her eyes darken and she grits her teeth. She rests her hand on her hip, shifting her blouse to reveal the butt of a handgun.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this day," she smirks, "Lloyd Hansen, you're fucking dead."

She spins on her heel and storms towards her car. You push the stroller after her, "wait, Suz," you plead, "he's not worth it."

"Yeah," she opens the door, "but you are. You just take care of the pookie bear," she faces you again and makes a face at the stroller, "and I'll send his sorry ass home. Hopefully in one piece."

[twst-aceofhearts]

Sleeping Beauty

a/n: took me forever to think of another character to write that wasn't in the dorms i've already wrote characters and the ending is kinda rushed im sowwy

pairings: Silver x gn!Yuu ft. Lilia Vanrouge

words: 819

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe

What seemed to be a small alchemy accident turned into Silver being put into a deep slumber. Professor Crewel tries his best to search for a cure, but to no avail.

“Maybe true love’s kiss is the answer. Kufufu~” Lilia suggested, looking at Yuu with a smug smile on his face.

So here Yuu was, by force, looking as Silver sleeping away peacefully in the infirmary. They might as well get it over with…

“...Am I really gonna do this…?” Yuu sighed, running a hand through their hair. They’ve always wanted to kiss their crush, but not like this.

Silver’s chest slowly rises up and down, seemingly calm and relaxed. Lilia chuckles to himself as Yuu stood by Silver’s side, a nervous sweat dripping down the side of their face.

“...If I do it can’t you at least like…turn around?” Yuu murmured shyly, looking back up at Lilia.

Lilia simply grinned at Yuu’s response and did just that. Turning around and waiting for their next move, seemingly excited to see how this would play out. “Just get it over with, deary.~”

Yuu swallowed hard, looking back down at Silver’s lips face. They hesitated, suddenly feeling their face getting extremely hot.

Silver continued to rest peacefully, oblivious to what was going to happen. His lips were slightly parted, making it easy for Yuu to do their thing. 

“...Hah…I can’t do this…” Yuu let out a small whine after losing to their inner turmoil, burying their face into their hands and plopping into a chair beside Silver’s bed.

Lilia couldn’t help but chuckle at Yuu’s shyness, finding it amusing. He looks over his shoulder and sees Yuu burying their face into their hands.

“Don’t tell me you’re still shy about kissing him?” Lilia smirked as he watched Yuu.

“Of course I am! This– I– ugh…this is too much.. Is this really the only solution…?”

Lilia lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He finds Yuu’s dilemma to be incredibly adorable, however, he was starting to grow impatient. He glances back over his shoulder once more, looking at their pouting face.

“Well, would you rather have him be in slumber forever?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at them.

“...No…”  Yuu sighed stressed out of their mind.

Lilia grinned to himself, pleased with Yuu’s answer.

“Then what’s the problem? I thought you liked him?” He playfully teased, having found out about their crush on Silver.

“Th– I– hey!…this is different-!” Yuu protested, turning red.

Lilia laughs quietly to himself, knowing he hit the mark on their little crush on the Diasomnia student. It was obvious, after all, how much time they spent with Silver.

“Go on. You’re wasting time,” Lilia says with a smirk.

Yuu clenched their jaw, before gesturing for him to turn back around once more, standing up off the chair.

Lilia happily obliged, turning around once more and waiting expeectantly. He couldn’t wait to see how this would play out. After all he loved a good love story.

Yuu gulped, their stomach doing flips. They let out a shaky breath, leaning down to the sleeping figure, gently pressing their lips against Silver’s. It was nerve-wracking.

The second their lips touched Silver’s his eyes slowly began to flutter open, which initially made Yuu pull away faster than the speed of light. He slowly sat up, looking a little bit hazy himself. He looked confused as he looked around, trying to process what was going on.

“Huh? W-what in the…” Silver stammered his voice a bit raspy as he looked over at Yuu. The realization hit him hard, his eyes widening and a heavy blush spreading over his cheeks.

Yuu turned on their heel, becoming red once more, dashing out of the infirmary from pure embarrassment. 

“Ah! Wait, Yuu-!” Silver called out, but they were already long gone. He looked over at Lilia, who was just chuckling at the scene.

“What’s…going on? What happened?” Silver asked Lilia, a hint of bewilderment in his eyes. Silver tried to put the pieces together, unable to put the pieces together since his mind still a bit hazy.

“My my,” Lilia began, “You were put into a deep sleep by an alchemy incident. Nobody knew how to wake you up, but then I suggested the idea of a true love’s kiss. I never expected it to work, to be honest, seeing as you’re awake no,” Lilia says, crossing his arms.

Silver’s face turned light pink, processing the latter’s explanation. He touched his lips with the tips of his fingers, his heart fluttering as he remembered the brief feeling of Yuu’s soft lips on his. “I-I…see…” He stammered, avoiding Lilia’s gaze.

Lilia couldn’t help but chuckle, finding Silver’s reaction quite adorable. He shook his head, patting Silver on the shoulder. “You’re such an open book, you know that?” Lilia smirked, teasing the second year.

Meanwhile in the third year’s mind, Lilia was already planning the wedding.

credit to @cafekitsune for divider

[jester-lover]

Hi I hope you’re doing well! ^^

I saw that your requests were open and o was wondering if you had any hc with L.j with a chubby/plus size fem reader who’s really insecure about their weight and how they look 24/7 nsfw or not, it’s totally okay! ^^

I’m dealing with severe body dysmorphia right now and I feel like I keep getting worse.

I love your writing so much and the way you write everyone, and I just wanted to say to keep the amazing work!💕

Feel free to delete it if it’s not something you’re comfy to write for! I’d completely understand

As always, stay safe and remember to hydrate <3

Pretty Lady

Cw/female reader, angst, fluff, insecurities, comfort, SFW, body image issues, food/eating/weight mention, this post is a bit longer than my other ones, because I personally wanted to write it

Laughing Jack x fem! Chubby! Reader

Hey nonnie, I know how difficult it feels to not belong in your own self, especially when it comes to weight. I know how repetitive the ‘your beautiful!’ comments can get, even if they are absolutely true. So I’ll just let you know that I wholeheartedly hope that you find happiness with yourself, that you find contentment with yourself. This is something I wish I heard in my times of trouble. You are completely free and valid to feel however you feel, but please know that there is always something beautiful in the world waiting for you.

Jack is such a tender hearted fool for you

His soul is wrapped around yours in an everlasting hug, and he’s forever grateful you chose to keep him around

What confuses him at first is your sudden reluctance to accept the little hard candies he makes specially for you

Jack tries to think of the reasons why you’d reject his treats, perhaps you have developed a new taste?

To his surprise, when he goes to your room to ask about it, he discovers a saddening scene

Clothes scatter your bedroom as you sit on your bed in your pajamas, crying into your hands

Your breathing begins catching, which takes him from his trance as he reaches to stroke your back and press you against his comforting form

“Dearie? What's the matter? Are you hurt?”

Jack will wait as long as you need to, letting you cry it out as he gently presses kisses to your temple

His hands wrap themselves around your soft midsection as he sweetly coaxes you to lift your head up to meet his eyes

As you explain your worries to him, Jack feels whatever leftover heart he has begin to break

Tears speckle his eyes as he looks at you, his hands that rest on your waist begin shaking a bit as he speaks up again, seemingly soaking up all your pain

"But beloved...there is so much more to love about you...you mean so much more to me than your gorgeous appearance."

Jack holds you in his lap, and whilst being mindful of his claws, traces the features of your face, whispering little complements as he kisses you gently

Throughout the next couple days, he'll distract and uplift you with various services and simple delights

He'll cuddle you in your sleep, preferring to spoon or hold you against his chest as he shares little stories and anecdotes

Jack has seen almost 200 years of beauty standards flying in and out of style, and he knows they matter for nothing

He'll assist you in small self care activities throughout the next couple days, like long bubble baths and painting your nails

these activities bring you closer together, and he just basks in your presence

"Being around you is an honor, my love, something I've been blessed with."

He practically worships you, treating you like the beautiful woman you are

He loves it when you show off your outfits for him, a little fashion show where you two parade around in ridiculous outfits, laughing at one another and toppling over in each other's arms

Jack loves you, all of you, including your body. He finds you deeply attractive and he wants you to see that too.

[ohtobealady]

If you’re still looking for one word prompts: Lace for Cobert please. 😊

Oh boy howdy. A tiny side of comfort. Thank you for the lovely word, dearie.

—————‘,—————

Lace

She stared at the dress O’Brien had laid out for the garden party. She stared at it with her warm teacup resting at her lip, the minty scent sweetly burning her nose.

She liked it: ivory linen, a circle of crocheted lace around the waist, more lace at the collar and sleeves, large spherical buttons that served no other purpose but to provide decoration in straight lines down the front. Her maid had gone to collect her hat, she’d explained, but Cora knew which. It would be the kettle-brim. And it would look nice.

She sighed. Her mouth was dry from far too much of this tea. It made a small clink as she replaced it in its saucer just as the click of the door drew her attention to it.

“Oh.” Her body relaxed when she saw him, his round chin lifting in greeting. She hadn’t even realized she’d been sitting so stiffly. “I was expecting O’Brien.”

“Do you need her?”

“No,” Cora shook her head, and she smiled at her husband who softly smiled at her in return. “I’m glad it’s you.”

He chuckled as he came into her room. Bates had already dressed him in his white garden linens, and Cora let herself admire the tug of the fabric at his shoulders and the breadth and height of him as he walked toward her window and peered out.

“It seems the lawn’s dried enough from the rain,” he nodded toward the view. “Though it would’ve made a fine excuse to postpone.”

“Then I’m glad it’s dried.” She let her hands settle beneath her breakfast tray. “You know we couldn’t have postponed. I didn’t want to.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But I did. For your sake.”

“Yes.”

He came to sit upon her bed, and she felt the way her legs dipped toward his weight at the edge of her mattress. “Of course you know that it isn’t strictly necessary for you to come down. None would blame you.”

Cora’s chest tightened at his repeated speech, the same speech he’d given her four days ago after it had all happened, when he tried to convince her to cancel the party entirely. But they both knew she could not. The invitations had gone out too long before.

“I’m well enough,” she assured him, and she forced a tight smile. “And I’m well enough for you to rejoin me in here,” she pressed. “I don’t like sleeping alone.”

She was relieved at his chuckle, and even more relieved when he took her hand. “My dear, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m more uncomfortable without you.”

She watched the change in his expression, the lightness of his features darkening with a hint of pain at her confession. She hadn’t meant it to sound as plaintive as it was—-as she was.

And Robert nodded, and she felt him tighten his fingers around hers. “So am I.”

“I’ve brought you a powder, milady—-oh, milord. I apologize.”

They looked at O’Brien who entered, but Cora let her eyes return to her husband. He hadn’t let go of her hand.

“It’s alright, O’Brien,” he said. “I was just trying to convince her ladyship that she should remain in bed, especially since her breakfast tray looks as if she’s barely touched it.”

Cora felt herself smile, and she shook her head. “I don’t like peppermint tea,” she complained in a lilting tone, but knew at Robert’s glance he had been partly serious.

“I’ve tried to convince her as well, milord. I did say that between yourself and the young ladies, the guests would understand—-“

“But I don’t want to,” she interjected, and again, she felt Robert tighten his grasp.

“O’Brien, it’s useless, I’m afraid,” he looked at her, and Cora loved how the morning sun kissed the curve of his jaw. “I can deny her nothing.”

For the first time in four days, Cora nearly laughed; the tightness in her chest turning the hollowness into warmth.

“I’ve asked Carson to have the garden chaise longue brought to the tent. You’ll be sure to rest, at least, won’t you?”

She nodded before Robert turned back to her maid. “Thank you, O’Brien. I’ll only be a moment more.”

And the warmth felt cooler as her maid departed, leaving the powder for her pain and her kettle-brim hat upon her dressing table.

“I came to tell you—“

“—She’s been such a help to me, Robert,” Cora said over him, and as soon as the door closed behind her maid. “Really.” Images of her maid weeping along with her, patting her hand, helping her change her bloodied nightgowns unwittingly came to her mind. “I feel guilty I’ve made so much extra work for her—-“

“No.” Robert silenced her. “She cares for you; as do I. You aren’t to feel guilty for anything.”

“All the same….” She ignored the other images, the terrible ones that persisted in floating to the top of her thoughts, clouding the others she desperately sought. And she ignored what he’d meant by anything, for how could she not? “I’m grateful to her,” she added softly, and looked down into her lap, hoping he’d hear what else she meant, that she was grateful for him.

But he sat silently instead, her hand in his, before she felt his other hand move to her cheek, and as his thumb stroked at the cheekbone.

She closed her eyes, forbidding the tears that threatened, and shook her head, shaking his fingers away from their too-soft touch.

“I’ve commissioned it.” His voice was a whisper now, but of course she knew what he meant. “The stone.”

“Oh, Robert,” she sighed. “I wish you hadn’t.” It was a lie in a way. She wished that none of it had happened; a stone reminding her of her failure again and again was the furthest thing she could ever want.

“It will be quite small,” he went on just as quietly. “Only the year.”

“I’m sure your mother will agree with me.” She let go of his hand and moved her fingers to her tea.

“I didn’t intend on telling her.”

The peppermint was overbearing now that it was cold, and she pretended it was that that made her eyes burn. “You seldom need to tell your mother anything for her to still know everything.”

“Cora.”

When she met her husband’s gaze, he shook his head.

“The stone isn’t for her.”

And she broke his gaze. “I know.”

“Only the year, darling. And our cipher. Nothing more.”

And to stop herself from weeping, she cleared her throat. “I am glad it seems to be dry.”

The teacup clattered in its saucer. She smoothed the coverlet over her middle. She looked at her lacy dress lying in the morning sun. “Mud would’ve spoiled it. Everyone in their whites.”

Her husband sighed, his shoulders falling gently as he tenderly reclaimed her hand in his own. “Oh, my dearest one.” And she watched as he lifted her fingers to his lips, and felt as he pressed a kiss there.

She watched him, smiling, her vision blurred by tears she blinked away.

“Robert,” she whispered between them, her heart breaking, loving him more than she ever had before. “Better ring for O’Brien,” she barely managed around the knot in her throat. She laced her cold fingers through Robert’s, holding as tightly as she could.

[babydolls-writing-space]

“Puppy treats”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

I wanted to write something for me and my fellow pet regressors :3 also please remember that this is sfw only and i want to keep it and this account this way.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

Ya know out of all the things that could happen in your life, meeting the ruler of hell was probably the most interesting thing that could happen to you. The next was finding out that he not only knew what age regression / pet regression was but he was also a caregiver for it!

You found this out because one night you were sitting on the couch watching cartoons with your paci, sippy cup, your blanky, and your favorite cartoons on tv before you heard the door to your house opening and then seeing lucifer the moment the door walked in-

His eyes widened a little as he saw you, not to long after a smile appeared on his face "Well well, hello there little one" he said softly as he saw you. And ever since that day he has been your caregiver

One morning you had woken up in his bed and looked around the room a little. Your mind was all fuzzy and you slowly felt the urge to bite something which usually meant that you were slipping into your puppy headspace.

You slowly got off the bed and went and crawled into your puppy bed which wasnt far off and closed your eyes slowly drifting off to sleep again.

About an hour later lucifer had walked in to go check in on you want smiled softly as he saw you in your puppy bed. He slowly started to walk over to you and gently crouched down beside you. He slowly started to run his hand threw your hair, gently rubbing it as he spoke softly "come on deary, its time to wake up now"

You slowly started to open your eyes as you felt his hand going threw your hair you slowly looked up at him. "Good morning puppy" he said with a smile. "Want me to go get your tail an ears?" luci said as you nodded softly as you tried to wake up.

Lucifer smiled and nodded as he went to his closet and pulled out a soft cream colored box and walked over to you. he pulled out the ears and gently put them on your head as he grabbed the tail and gently put the belt on you to attach it. "There we go puppy, all better?" he said and you nodded softly. You got up slowly, doing a big Strech as you sat up and looked at him; he smiled as he stood up and slowly started to walk out into the main lobby, you starting to follow by his side.

He went over to your bowl and started to pour some kibble (coco puffs) into it with some water beside it. You smiled softly as he walked over and started to eat your breakfast.

Soon lucifer had gotten a call which he walked off to the side to go take. You looked over as he did wanting to follow him but you refrain and continued to eat your breakfast.

Shortly after he walked over to you, and you sat down infront of him. "Puppy i am so sorry i have to go on a mission that is far to dangerous for you." when he said that you let out a whine. "i know i know but i promise i will be back as soon as i can ok?" he said. you whined again as he sighed softly "i know dear, follow me" he said walking over to the couch. You followed as he patted a spot on the couch to wear you went and gently jumped up on. He smiled softly as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around you as he went and grabbed your favorite stuffie, paci and chew toy as he put them beside you as he put on bluey. "there you go darling, all cozy and you have everything you need. i promise i will be back as soon as possible ok?" he said. You nodded softly as he kissed your head and walked out the door.

You pouted a little before turning to the tv smiling as you saw the episode of bluey wear muffin was tired and being crazy, which made you feel better.

A few hours go by and you soon hear the door open. You smile as you got up and saw it was lucifer. You sat infront of him as he closed the door and crouched down and started to play with your hair . "hey puppy, did you miss me?" he asked even though he already knew the answer. You let out a small bark and smiled big with a nodded; he laughed softly and smiled with a nod " i figured

You smiled softly as your tail swayed, he smiled softly as he looked at his (overly expensive) watch and looked at you “come on puppy let’s go get a treats before we head to bed”. You nodded your head softly as you followed him to the kitchen, where he grabbed a jar and opened it carefully. You smiled as he gently placed a bone shaped cookie he made in front of you giving a signal to go ahead and eat it. You smiled as you took it and ate it; soon looking at him as he walked with you to his room. You followed as he changed out of his suit and into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt; he went and laid down on the bed as you followed him and curled up in his arms. He smiled softly and gently rubbed your head “goodnight my sweet puppy” he said gently kissing your head before falling asleep

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

I finally got this story done lol

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧

Tags;

[abbystromboli]

RONALD MOTHER FUCKIN' WEASLEY pairing: Ron X Gryffindor!reader warnings: Swearing/cuddling. that's prolly all! genre: fluff sum it up: when y/n sacrifices her mental health for studying, her best friend Ron Weasley steps in and stops her from working herself into a mania.

"y/n how the hell are you still studying? You're worse than Hermione if that's even possible." Ron said, walking into the Gryffindor common room, where y/n had been when he had left (almost four hours ago,) and where she was still sitting. She didn't even bother answering him, she just. had. to finish. this. damn. essay. she wrote furiously, barely caring to check her facts about the many uses of hippogriff feathers in potions.

"Are you even listening to me? y/n, answer me." before she could bother to ignore him a second time, she suddenly felt his hand on her chin, forcing her gaze up to look at him. Her face, pale from locking herself up in Gryffindor Tower to study for the O.W.L.S, suddenly burnt red. It wasn't that Ron made her uncomfortable, quite the opposite actually, but usually they just verbally bantered (other than the random thumb war) and something about physical contact was slightly embarrassing to her.

"Oh y/n, for fucks sake, please tell me you've been sleeping," he said, he'd just noticed the defined dark circles under her eyes. He sent a shiver down her spine as the thumb of his hand that wasn't holding her chin absent-mindedly ran over her eye bags.

"I've gotta say, you're making Hermione look almost normal right now; and for Godrick's sake, please start talking, you're usually so talkative, you're kind of scaring me"

finally, her eyes which had been glued to his face, dropped. "Ron you don't understand how much homework I have to finish." She glanced down at the massive pile of papers, quills, and house elf hats that Hermione had dropped off before going to bed.

"no, no, no, no, you can't keep up at this. it's past midnight you know? you need to get to bed" his hand dropped from her face, and before she could stop him, rolled up her parchment.

"don't worry Ron, I'll just crash on the couch real quick. You just go get some rest, I know quidditch practice is tiring." She realized quickly that she shouldn't have said that because his face quickly turned from determination to concern.

"Why the couch? Are the girls in your dorm this year treating you wrong?" her mind flashed to the snide remarks that she always got from her roommates, about stupid stuff like being the fourth wheel to the Golden trio, and how they had found out that she had a crush on Ron and now whenever they needed leverage over her, to get her to do something, they'd threaten to tell him about it. They'd even gone as far as to ban her from entering into the dorm after midnight, as to not wake them up.

"Nope, they just- they're just light sleepers and I don't want them to be mad at me. plus I haven't even slept in there in days because of all this" she gestured to the mounds of papers, "I bet they're used to not having me there by now."

'Those fucking fickle whores' he thought, 'after all, how could they even try to be mean to her? she's so perfect? they must be jealous.'

"well I'm sorry, but I'm not letting you sleep on the couch," he started, before realizing that she had rested her head on the table and was silently sleeping already. he finally made his decision.

I swear if Harry teases me about this... He slipped one arm under her's, and around her waist, the other balancing her lower half. she leaned into his chest in her sleep. he grinned a little down at her, before heading over to the dorm he shared with Harry and Neville.

"goodnight dearie" he whispered, tucking her into one side of the bed with care before laying down on the other side, her essay in his hand, finishing it in the light of his wand.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Ron! Ron, wake up and explain yourself!" Harry's voice roused Ron from his sleep. His heavy eyes opened slowly, and then he realized he was holding onto something. oh, that's what Harry's bitching about then. Somehow y/n and he had ended up in an embrace, which wasn't all that shocking to Ron, because he was a restless sleeper who usually hugged his pillows in his sleep.

"mornin' Harry, man I slept good." Before he could keep up his casual chit chat, Harry pointed his finger in an accusing manner between the two of them.

"mind explaining, Ron? Or did you forget out solemn swear to never sleep with a girl in here?" even though he tried to sound angry, there was no hiding the wide grin on his face, clearly he thought that this was something it wasn't.

"First of all, we didn't do anything, you sick person. Second of all..." he continued in a whisper, "isn't this great?!?"

a few minutes of talking to Harry later, Y/n woke up with a start.

"wait hold on, where- oh hi, harry- wait, Ron? " after a brief explanation of how she had blacked out, and Harry leaving to send an owl, she suddenly snapped back into study mode.

"oh shit my essay for snape is due today."

"calm down, it's done." the smile that appeared on her face was possibly the biggest grin she'd ever worn.

"oh Ron, thanks, for everything." she hoisted herself out of the four-poster, and then suddenly turned around to face Ron, who was sitting up, reading the daily prophet, looking for anything interesting.

"don't tell anyone about this please" Before Ron could respond, and before she lost her confidence, she leaned back onto the bed and kissed him, causing him to drop his newspaper.

what?!? do I actually have game? wondered Ron as he quicky sat up further to return the Kiss. her hand cradled the back of his head for a moment, before breaking the connection. this time, the tables had turned and Ron was the one red in the face.

"well Ron, thanks. Oh, and for the essay and not letting me rot in the common room to!" Ron sat, watching her head towards the door, Essay in hand, before pulling his jaw off of the floor to say,

"hey, don't ever be afraid to crash over here again... or to kiss me again if you ever feel like it again"

"oh trust me, I'll be feeling like it again, soon. you'll just have to be prepared at all times Weasley!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

omg i loved writing this! lmk what you think, and as always, i love you and thank you for reading!𐂂 𓅓𓆙

[itsladykit]

Summary: The soul wants what it wants CW: Noncon, body horror, anxiety. The "noncon" is a spoiler, so I'll elaborate in the endnotes.

-

Edge opened his sockets, shaking his skull to clear it of sleep. “Rus?” he asked, “What’re you doing?”

It was pitch-dark in the room, lit only by the orange glow of Rus’ magic. He looked up from between Edge’s legs, tongue summoned and chin glistening with spent mana. “what’s it look like i’m doing?” he asked, pressing Edge’s legs further apart. “i’m showing you a good time.” He lowered his head once more.

Edge blinked up at the ceiling. “Wait.” Something wasn’t right. He tried to sit up, but his body felt unbearably heavy, like something was holding him down. “Something’s….” He squeezed his sockets shut, but the muzziness and strangeness lingered. “Rus, something’s wrong.”

“shhhh,” Rus said, petting his thighbones, “you’re fine, edgelord. i’m gonna take good care of you.”

His soul lit his ribcage from within, casting strange shadows on the wall. They looked like the bars of a cage. “No,” Edge said, while Rus straightened. “I feel—this doesn’t feel right.”

Rus crawled forward, settling his weight on Edge’s hips. “you’re just nervous,” he said, pressing Edge’s forearms into the mattress, “but i promise I’ll look after you. don’t you trust me?”

Edge stared up at him, feeling heavy and helpless and wrong. Red mana painted the lower half of Rus’ face. In the low light, it looked like blood. “Stop,” he heard himself say, “Please. Give me a minute. I don’t—I don’t feel well.”

“of course you don’t,” he said, reaching into Edge’s ribcage and plucking his soul from his body, “you’re in heat.”

Edge stared at the hard lump of rock Rus had in hand. He hadn’t summoned his soul, hadn’t felt it manifest. “No—no, I’m—” This wasn’t right. This wasn’t—was it? He shook his head, but it felt strange—like his skull had detached from the rest of his body, ready to drift away on an errant breeze. “Let me up,” he said firmly.

Rus instead planted a hand on his chest, holding him down. “just relax and let me look after you.” He brought Edge’s soul to his mouth. Edge tried to stop him—tried to pull away, to grab his hand—but the air itself seemed to resist his efforts.

“Don’t!” he finally gasped, but Rus laved at his soul anyway. Black ichor bled from it, staining his tongue and spreading over his jaw. “Stop!”

“what’s wrong?” he asked, while more ichor dripped down his hand. It crawled up his humerus and across his ribcage, blackening his pure white bones while Edge watched in mute horror.

“don’t you want this?” Rus’ voice shifted as he spoke, pitching higher. The ichor cloaked him, dimming the warm glow of his soul’s light until only the gleam of his eyelights remained. “You want this,” he said, in a voice not his own. Rus’ sockets shut, and when he opened them, his eyelights had been replaced by four pairs of deep purple eyes.

“You want this, dearie,” she said, holding his soul aloft.

“No!” He reached for his soul, but his arm was heavy as stone and pulling himself upright took monumental effort. He felt slow and heavy, like he was dragging himself through sand. He reached, reached—reached for his soul, trying to cross the insurmountable distance of mere inches. Her smile stretched wide, amused by his struggles.

His fingertips brushed the edge of his soul, and the world snapped back into place. Edge found himself sitting upright amongst the rumpled nest, arm outstretched toward nothing. His soul beat fast and hard—and safely behind his ribs, still unmanifested. Sweat beaded along his lumbar spine as he searched the room, finding nothing amiss. Rus still slept peacefully beside him, undisturbed by Edge’s nightmare.

Taking a deep breath, Edge ran his hands over the back of his neck and skull, bowing forward. His body trembled from spent adrenaline, and he felt chilled from the sweat collecting on his bones. He took another steadying breath, trying to banish the last echoes of the dream. But the shadowed corners of the room seemed suddenly menacing, as if anything—anyone—could be hiding there in the darkness. He squeezed his sockets shut, claws clenching tight around the sweat-damp sheets.  

Behind him, Rus whimpered, and Edge turned, soul jumping. In sleep, Rus’ brow-bones had furrowed, and he reached blindly into the warm indent Edge had left behind. Edge swallowed, looking at him. He couldn’t help but fixate on how vulnerable he seemed. Rus’ mana nodes were lit up like a neon invitation, and his soul shone like ripe fruit behind his ribs, ready to be plucked and consumed.

He wanted to get up, to check the doors and windows. He wanted to sit with his back to the door and a bone club in hand, ready for anyone or anything that might threaten them. Rus, still asleep, shifted into the indent, nosing the blankets. With another whine, he reached out, still searching.

Edge took a steadying breath.

Rus needed him. Not as a protector, but as a companion, and Edge was feeling less and less qualified for the task. He swallowed and tried to remember what Rus said he would need. A touch on the head or chest, he’d said, but closer was better. With a last glance at the dark corners, Edge laid back down, facing Rus. His searching hand found him, and Rus sighed in his sleep, tucking himself against Edge. His skull was bent, leaning his forehead against Edge’s shoulder and exposing the nape of his neck.

It looked bare and vulnerable. The nodes that lit his cervical vertebrae glimmered brightly, swollen with mana. Edge planted a possessive hand there, wishing briefly to feel leather under his fingers. But a collar would offer no protection on the Surface, so Edge hadn’t asked or offered. Rus sighed again, melting into him.

Though Rus’ whimpering quieted, it didn’t feel as if he’d done enough. His bones still burned hot, and Edge could feel the need projecting from his soul. A need Edge didn’t know how to fulfill.

 “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I should have let you go to someone else.” At that moment, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was only referring to being Rus’ heat partner, or if he was speaking more broadly. “I don’t know how to do this.” The last he said nearly inaudibly.

Rus just curled closer. They were sternum to sternum, and Edge could feel Rus’ soul pressing itself against his ribcage. Mana wept from it, hot and slick, and / NEED / projected from it—demand and invitation both. Edge started projecting softly, pushing back feelings of peace and safety and protection. His projections—typically solid and strong—were wavering and weak, dimmed by his own sense of uncertainty.

Regardless, Rus started to purr in his sleep. Apparently, even Edge’s weak attempts at comfort and companionship were enough. For the moment. He swallowed hard and shut his sockets, wishing he could offer more, wishing he could fulfill that powerful sense of / NEED / that still projected from Rus’ soul. Rus had said that this—just this—would be enough, though, so Edge tried to relax into the embrace. Sleep felt impossible, but maybe if he—

Something slid over his ribcage.

Edge froze. He hoped it was simply his imagination or a lingering effect of the dream, but the sensation of something teasing over his sternum returned a moment later. His spine prickled; it felt like he’d walked into a spiderweb, or like a spider an insect had found its way into their nest. Trying not to wake Rus, he eased away, searching the sheets. He froze again, not understanding what he was seeing.

Thin strands of orange mana had erupted from Rus’ soul and were now threading themselves through his ribcage, wriggling and waving in his chest cavity as if they were searching for something. As he watched, a handful found Edge’s ribcage and wrapped around the bone. Apparently sensing his presence, more teasing tendrils slipped between his ribs to prod at empty chest cavity.

His mind went blank. His bones prickled, and cold sweat broke out along his spine. He gripped Rus’ humerus and shook him. “Rus. Rus. Wake up. Something—” Stars, he didn’t even know how to articulate this. Were those filaments part of Rus’ soul? Was it another creature—some sort of mana parasite? Was this normal?! “Rus!”

Shaking his skull, Rus mumbled incoherently, then yawned. “edge? wha’s—”

Then he too saw the gleaming threads, and his sockets went wide. A soft sound escaped him. Before Edge could say a word, he took a shortcut. The threads wrapping Edge’s ribcage went to dust the moment he disappeared. “Rus!”

The bathroom door slammed shut and Edge scrambled out of the nest. Unsurprisingly, when he tried the door, he found it locked. Voice soft and faintly echoing—sounding almost as if he was speaking from a great distance and not simply on the other side of the door—Rus said, “it’s okay! everything’s—fine.”

It was the least reassuring thing Edge had ever heard him say. “What’s going on? Are you hurt? What was that?”

“nothing!” His voice pitched upward, almost squeaking. “it’s nothing. just…go back to bed. i’ll be out in a minute.”

Edge leaned against the door, trying the knob again. “That wasn’t nothing. Your soul—” He huffed. “I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t nothing. Tell me what happened.”

“really, it’s nothing—”

“Rus. I will break down this door if I have to. What’s happening?” He didn’t answer. Edge shut his sockets, leaning against the door. His soul was beating hard and fast, and he kept seeing those fine tendrils turn to dust on his ribs. He took a breath and started counting. “One. Two. Th—”

The door cracked open, and Rus peered out at him. “you’re gonna get us in trouble with the landlord,” he said, trying to joke despite the visible strain around his sockets.

Edge huffed. “It’s owned by the embassy, and I think you can sweet-talk your queen if the need arises. Now—” Before he could ask, Rus bent forward, a pained groan escaping him. Edge reached for him, but he pulled the door to his chest, using it like a shield.

“i’m fine,” he croaked, and Edge wanted nothing more than to rip the door off its hinges.

“You are visibly and audibly in pain!” He heard the door creak, and he heard Rus breathing heavily on the other side. His soul ached. “Please. Let me help you.”

“can’t,” he said. It sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth. “i need to get my soul under control, and i can’t do that while you’re so close.”

Edge froze. “Those threads,” he murmured, “they were part of you.”

Rus made a strained noise. “can i have a minute? please?”

Shutting his sockets, Edge reminded himself that Rus had been patient with him yesterday—patient and kind and respectful. Edge needed to afford him the same courtesy now. He exhaled slowly and let his hand hang limply at his side. “I’m going to go downstairs and make tea. Is there anything else you want?”

“can i have ice cream?” His voice was soft and strained. Edge wished he could hold him.

“You can have whatever you want.”

“will you have some too?”

Edge flinched, but said, “I’ll bring two spoons.”

Downstairs, he forced himself to dawdle, giving Rus more time alone. He wiped down the counters. He checked the doors and windows, making sure they were locked. He took out his phone and verified that his Muffet was still registered in that small desert town. He boiled water and waited for the tea to steep. He dressed the ice cream with whipped cream and chocolate sauce and a scoop of nuts. All the while, he thought of those reaching tendrils and saw them turn to dust again and again.

When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he gathered the tea and ice cream onto a tray and returned to their bedroom. Rus had since crawled back into to their nest, but he was now wearing a loose t-shirt and he sat with his knees pulled close to his chest. The thin fabric hid little; Edge could see the glow of his soul through it, and it was already wet with spent mana, clinging to his ribs.

“Are you alright?” he asked, setting the tray on their bedside table.

Rus nodded. “you brought ice cream?”

He passed it over, but hesitated before climbing into the nest himself. Instead, he sat on the edge of the mattress, watching him. Rus stirred the ice cream without eating. “Rus,” he asked, “what happened?”

He flinched, stabbing at the ice cream. “i…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and jabbed at his food again, before jamming a big scoop into his mouth. He said something, but Edge couldn’t understand him around the half-melted ice cream.

“What?”

He sighed, letting the spoon clatter against the side of the bowl. “my soul tried to—to bond with yours.” A faint flush of orange graced his features.

Edge stared at him. “What?!”

Rus gestured with his spoon. “i know! it’s—i’ve never had that happen before!” He winced again, listlessly jabbing his ice cream. “i don’t know what happened.”

Edge took a moment, trying to order his thoughts. “I.” He swallowed. “Is that—is that normal?”

“no!” He scraped the melting ice cream into a mound, his cheekbones glowing in the low light. “i mean—i don’t know.” The tip of the spoon tapped against the bottom of the bowl.

Edge shook his head, trying to clear it. Trying to make sense of anything. “You said an accidental soul-bond was possible,” he prompted, remembering their earlier soul-play.

“yeah, but—” He looked up, growing quiet as he met Edge’s eyelights. He swallowed and held the bowl out. “do you want any?” Not even remotely. Still, Edge took the spoon and bowl in hand. Rus watched him, fingers drumming on the bunched blankets while Edge scraped melting ice cream and chocolate sauce onto the spoon. He didn’t say anything until Edge took a small bite. “what do you know about soul-bonds?”

Edge looked away, trying not to dwell on the sickly-sweet taste lingering in his mouth. Rus had tried to have this conversation with him before, but he’d always managed to avoid it. “They’re more myth than fact where I come from.” Thankfully, Rus accepted the bowl when he passed it back. He smoothed a hand over the blanket. “I…” He debated with himself, trying to decide how much to reveal and how to say it. “There’s…stories. But the practice was seen as…overly sentimental. And dangerous. A bond-mate would have been seen as a weakness, not a strength. You may as well paint a target on their back.”

“oh.” His voice was soft. He sounded almost hurt.

Edge looked to him. “How were they regarded in your ‘verse?”

“just…part of life, i guess? you date, you bond, you have kids.” He shrugged. “not everyone. some monsters don’t date or don’t bond or they don’t have kids. some don’t do any of it at all.” He looked away. “there at the end, fewer and fewer monsters were bothering with any of it. it was starting to seem…pointless.”

Edge nodded. He understood that. “But it was never taboo.”

Rus snorted. “no. it’s—stars, it’s more wholesome than missionary.”

“Then why are you embarrassed?”

Rus’ cheekbones lit up and he looked away, chuckling. “nothin’ gets past you, huh?” Edge frowned, not liking the hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

“Rus—”

“it’s just—it’s—” He huffed. “coming out of heat with a soul-bond? it’s fine for a cheesy romance book, but that would be humiliating in reality.” Seeing Edge’s expression, he explained, “it’d be like waking up married after a night out in vegas.” Rus smiled a little; he’d always seemed amused that human movies and tv shows could serve as a shared cultural touchstone when the differences in their own cultures were too vast to bridge.

“I see,” Edge said, nodding to himself. His brow-bones furrowed. “You’re sure you’re alright? Those strands turned to dust when you teleported away, and if they’re part of your soul….”

Rus flinched, poking his ice cream again. “i mean…i’m okay, but yeah, it…it hurt.” Edge straightened and reached for him, but Rus just offered a rueful smile. “relax, precious. it wasn’t that bad. trying to get my soul to settle afterward was way worse.”

“How so?”

“just…heat-brain, you know? wait, of course you don’t.” He sighed and said, “okay. you know how your lv acts up sometimes? and you know that what you’re feeling isn’t rational, but you feel it anyway?” Edge nodded slowly.

“well…not completing the soul-bond felt a lot like…well, like you didn’t want me anymore.” Edge’s sockets widened and his mouth fell open, but he was too stunned to know how to reply. Rus held up a hand, staving off his concern. “i know that’s not true. i know it doesn’t make any sense. hell, i’m the one that teleported away! but, uh…convincing my soul of that was…not working.”

Edge crawled into the nest proper, sitting beside him. He tucked Rus into his side, wrapping one arm around his waist. “Why didn’t you let me help you?”

He shrugged, taking another bite of ice cream. “there wasn’t anything you could have done—and having you that close without completing the bond was just making it worse. it was like a weird rejection feedback loop.” He exhaled shakily and settled into Edge’s side. “leaving was the only thing you could have done to help…except completing the bond, i guess.”

Edge didn’t know what to say to that, and Rus seemed disinterested in elaborating further. Instead, he scraped more of the ice cream onto a spoon and held it up in obvious offering. Though the very idea made Edge’s soul roil, he couldn’t imagine denying Rus anything after what he’d just said. So, he leaned forward and allowed Rus to feed him the spoonful. After, he lifted a hand to wipe a smear of ice cream from his chin, but Rus stopped him, tilting his skull to lave at the spot himself.

“You did that on purpose,” Edge grumbled.

“maybe.” His eyelights gleamed as he started to trail kisses down his vertebrae. “hey, since we’re both awake...."

Clearing his throat, Edge pushed him away gently. “Rus,” he said, looking him over, “why did that happen at all? You said it’s possible but not—not normal. Is….” He steeled himself. “Is something wrong?”

Rus gave him an odd look. “whaddaya mean?”

Edge took a steadying breath. “Am I…?” He swallowed. “Are your needs being met? Is there something—something I should be doing?”

Rus blinked, then he started snickering. “yeah, babe—i need you to let me go down on you, stat. it’s the only way my soul will behave.”

Edge huffed. “I’m being serious! If there’s something I should be doing more of or less of or—or something—you need to tell me so I can….” He took another sharp breath. “You need to tell me so I can take care of you.”

Rus ducked his head, shaking his skull. His smile seemed rueful, self-deprecating. A bright blush spread over his cheekbones. “stars,” he murmured, “this isn’t how i wanted to have this conversation.” He cleared his throat and set the mostly empty bowl to the side, then readjusted to sit across from Edge rather than beside him. He took Edge’s hands in his, and Edge felt his soul drop, not sure what Rus was going to say. “edge, it’s not because of anything you did or didn’t do. i just…haven’t spent my heat with anyone i wanted to bond with before.”

Edge’s mind went blank. “You….”

Slowly, Rus nodded, only daring to glance at him as he said, “yeah. i mean, we’ve been together for about a year now, and…and i’ve been thinking that…we might want to start…to start talking about. bonding. maybe.”

Edge stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. “I. Wait—you’ve been thinking about this?”

“well. yeah.” He shrugged. “that’s where we’re headed, right? i mean, i don’t want to do it right now—i mean, i do but that’s just the heat talking.” He shook his head, then said firmly, “edge, when i think about the future, i really can’t imagine myself with anyone but you. i…yeah. i want to bond with you, but…i want to do it the right way.” He shrugged. “i was thinking, once everything settled down, we could…maybe start planning the ceremony.”

“Ceremony?”

“yeah—you know, the soul-bonding ceremony. with the canopy and the candles and….” He trailed off, seeing Edge’s blank look. “oh, wow, this…this really isn’t a thing where you’re from, is it?”

Edge swallowed and shook his head. “It really isn’t.”

“oh. okay. well.” He fell silent for a beat. “so…you didn’t really think about it? before now, i mean?”

“No—not. Not at all.” Except to wonder if such a thing would even be possible for a monster like him.

“oh.” Then he said, “huh,” like he didn’t know how to proceed.  

Edge didn’t either. Eventually, Edge said, “Why don’t we go back to sleep? We can talk about this later.”

“yeah,” Rus said, “later. when the sun’s up, maybe? or when my soul isn’t trying to coax yours into a bond?” He smiled, like he was joking, but Edge was having trouble finding the source of his humor.

Later, once they’d rearranged themselves for sleeping, he asked, “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“hmm-mmm,” Rus confirmed, head resting on Edge’s ribcage. He was purring softly, bones loose and relaxed despite the heat radiating from them. Edge had one arm wrapped loosely around his spine, holding him close. The other was thrown over his skull, resting on the pillow. He stared up at the ceiling, mind circling. The room was silent but for the sound of their quiet breathing.

After a while, he asked, “What if…what if I can’t…form a soul bond?”

But Rus’ sockets were already shut, and his breathing had evened out. Edge felt a brief stab of envy at his ability to fall back to sleep so easily. He swallowed, trying not to let his thoughts chase him down paths he had no desire to travel. He deliberately turned away from thoughts of his hardened soul or Rus’ disappointed eyelights, but in their place, something worse clawed its way to the surface.

Did he even want to be bound soul-to-soul?

His throat tightened. A soul-bond was the highest form of intimacy. He’d be able to feel Rus’ emotions—and Rus would feel his. So much of himself would be laid bare. Did he want Rus to know how the LV itched at the back of his mind? Or how his anxiety spiked whenever they held hands in public? Did he want Rus to know about the revulsion that flickered through him when they shared food?

Would Rus still love him, if he knew those things?

A pit of pure dread yawned open at the very core of his soul. He’d told Rus that their life on the Surface felt fragile to him, like he was just waiting for something to break the peace they’d made for themselves. Never before had that fragility seemed so immediate, as if he could feel the first cracks forming beneath his feet.

[pukanavis]

"Mystery on a Moonlit Cruise" Track 8

Location: Party Hall

Kinari: System rebooting…please wait…

Yachiyo: N-No way, did I s-s-s-seriously doze off at w-work…!? They’ll cut my pay…they’ll fire me…they’ll bill me for damages…t-they’ll kill meee!?!?

Momiji: Mm…I slept great…!

Nanaki: Everyone is waking up…!?

Akuta: …Hah! Wha…? Where did my beef steak go? And my fried fish…?

Muneuji: Don’t fret, that was all a dream. There’s still plenty more fried chicken, stir-fried burdock, and pickled onion to go around.

Yodaka: Oh dear…just a moment ago I was researching how many acorns a chipmunk could fit in its mouth…so it was nothing but a dream?

Yukikaze: A chipmunk? How adorable.

Kafka: Ugh…when did it get so late…? Were we sleeping that whole time…?

Ryui: You better start talking, Yowa.

Netaro: Mmm…don’t wanna, but I know I have to. It was fun playing detective but a confession from the criminal is the perfect way to tie things up!

…Ahem. You may remember that I claimed to be catching fireflies earlier, well…I wasn’t! That was complete and utter baloney! 

Ryui: No kidding.

Netaro: Now the real question is what was I really doing then? And to answer that—I was conducting a test run on a new invention of mine!

Nanaki: An invention?

Netaro: Yep! I call it the ‘Ultra-Realistic Netaro Hypnosis Doll’ !

Muneuji: There’s two Yowa-sans…!?

Ryui: Where the hell did that thing come from!?

Netaro: I’m the real Netaro, and this one is a doll~! At first, it starts off teensy-tiny enough to fit in the palm of your hand but with just a jab at the buttons in its eyes, it’ll jump in size.

Toi: You have to poke Mr. Doll in his eyes…?

Yukikaze: That breaks my heart.

Netaro: It even has a glow-in-the-dark feature that makes it periodically light up ♪

Nanaki: If it moves and it glows…could this be what Muneuji really saw…?

Muneuji: My little sister has pyjamas with the same feature. Hm…now that I compare them, this does look awfully similar to the light I saw.

Netaro: My craftsmanship is impeccable, right~? This is the perfect body double to deploy whenever I don’t wanna work or think I’m gonna get arrested.

Akuta: A body double!? That’s freaking sick!

Toi: This makes me think of that time the Night Squad worked an attendant job. Netaro-san brought along a robot that looked just like him then too!

Ryui: I thought he’d already thrown that thing in the trash. 

Netaro: That’s the beauty of inventions! The improvements are endless! I wouldn’t want anyone to know that I’ve switched places with my doll so I implemented it with the ability to emit hypnotic sound waves.

Nanaki: Why did it have to be hypnotism…?

Netaro: Since I found myself with some free time on my hands, I thought I’d go out to the deck to poke and prod at my new creation. When I turned on the hypnotic sound waves, it coincided with the songs the service robots were playing and ended up ultra-amplifying the theraputic effects of their music.

Netaro: Deary me, sometimes the work of a genius exceeds even his own expectations! I never anticipated an outcome of this calibre!

Momiji: What exactly are you trying to say…?

Kafka: I take it that Netaro accidentally put everyone to sleep with his invention?

Kinari: It’s deeply intriguing to see something able to affect both humans and machines alike.

Nanaki: You mean the reason that Andy lost signal and the background music had such strange amplitudes was because of hypnotic sound waves…?

Yodaka: My goodness, Netaro’s inventions are simply full of surprises, aren’t they?

Netaro: I assure you there’s nothing to worry about! I’ve already had Ryui yell at me about safety, so I made sure to implement foolproof security measures! I’ve programmed the hypnosis feature to auto-stop after exactly one hour!

Thanks to me, everyone got to have a lo~vly sleep, right? Aren’t I just amazing~? C’mon, tell me I am~.

Ryui: Toi. Do you feel any pain anywhere? How’s your fever?

Netaro: Ignored!?

Toi: Um…I actually think it’s gone…? I don’t feel sick anymore…

Ryui: Easy now. Sleeping for an hour won’t be enough to make you bett—

Momiji: Wait, now that I think about it, the exhaustion and stiffness in my shoulders from all the work I've been doing is completely gone…!?

Kinari: My thought processing unit is now 18% lighter than it was prior to entering sleep mode.

Ryui: How does that even happen?

Netaro: It’s possible that when my invention enhanced the music from the service robots, it created an ultra-super-healing melody!

Yachiyo: Hwaah…this is too much for the stupid nitwitted brain of an idiot to comprehend…

Momiji: I-It’s okay. I don’t think anyone but Netaro-kun truly understands what happened here…!

Yukikaze: I always knew you were a genius, Netaro.

Kafka: …Hmm. I was wondering how I should handle this situation but I think I’ve found just the thing.

Momiji: Is there something on your mind, Kafka?

Kafka: Yeah, just a little idea ♪

We’ll be arriving back at the port shortly but I'll need to step away for a bit to speak with the head of the cruise ship. I encourage the rest of you to go back to enjoying the remainder of the party.

Oh, but you’ll be coming with me instead, okay, Netaro?

Netaro: …

Kafka: Poke—

Momiji: Did you just jab Netaro-kun straight in the eyes!?

Kafka: It’s just the doll, right? Look, it’s shrunk back down to size.

Netaro: Aww, my trick didn’t work.

Momiji: (...I wonder what Kafka’s planning? I suppose I better trust him to take care of it.)

Alright then, everyone…why don’t we pick up from where we left off earlier and enjoy what’s left of the food before we arrive at the port?

Akuta: You don't have to tell me twice!

Yukikaze: …Nanaki.

Nanaki: !

(Right, now’s my chance…)

Nanaki: (Thank you, Kamina-san.)

Chief…! I've been meaning to tell you—

Back | ★ | Next

[satansapostle6]

The World Was On Fire And No One Could Save Me But You | D.M.

Warnings: Language. Violence. Mature Themes. Smut.

As Lord Voldemort rises to power, Death Eater legacies such as Draco Malfoy and Elise Selwyn are forced to join their ranks. Desperate to return his family to the Dark Lord’s good graces, Draco Malfoy is forced to fight alongside Elise in a war they never wanted any part in.

Part I

Part II: Blood For Blood

Little over a week had passed since I had been initiated as a Death Eater, alongside Draco Malfoy. I wore long sleeves every day to conceal my Dark Mark, which made the fresh wound hurt even more. The pain was unimaginable; often, the Mark would hurt excruciatingly for hours into the night. Some nights, I didn’t sleep at all. I wondered often how Draco was doing with it all.

Today I wore my fitted black dress that made me look like my mother. It was no wonder my father had ignored me for the better part of a day. I had just finished working at the family shop, upholding our family's reputation. I had made it in our family's world, and that came with a certain cynicism that only those without childhoods had.

The moment I opened our door to Narcissa Malfoy, accompanied by Draco and Bellatrix. I didn't have to see my own reflection to know that my eyes were already narrowed in suspicion. What had brought them to our villa?

“Mrs. Malfoy. Madam Lestrange,” I greeted the two women. “Please. Come in.”

“Hello, Elise. Are you quite well?” Narcissa Malfoy asked me as they all entered, watching me shut the door behind them.

I could tell she wanted to ask about the Mark. Although Narcissa’s husband and sister were both Death Eaters, she had never actually been one herself, despite attending all of the meetings and gatherings.

“Cissy. Quit wasting time,” Bellatrix interrupted crossly.

“I’m alright, thank you. Are you here to see my father?” I asked them.

“Yes, we are,” Narcissa Malfoy told me.

“But don’t go running off quite yet,” her older sister stopped me, “This concerns you too, dearie.”

“Very well. If you’ll wait here, I can let my father know you’d like to see him,” I offered.

“Yes, please,” Narcissa thanked me.

I nodded, looking to her son, Draco Malfoy. He seemed quiet, almost begrudgingly so, as if he didn’t want to be here. It seemed he had protested against whatever his mother wanted to speak to my father and I about.

“Father?” I said as I entered his study.

He stopped to look at me from behind his desk, a mean look on his face as usual.

“Mrs. Malfoy and Madam Lestrange wish to speak with us, both,” I reported dutifully, not unlike one of our maids.

“Very well. Fetch them for me, will you?”

I nodded silently, leading Draco and his mother and aunt into the study. He and I both stood behind them in silence as we were taught, not looking at each other at all.

“Narcissa,” my father rose to greet them, kissing her cheek politely. “Bellatrix,” he said pleasantly, shaking her hand.

“It’s good to see you, Edric,” Narcissa greeted him as they all sat down.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” my father asked, sitting behind his desk as he always did.

“I, erm… The Dark Lord… suggested we speak to you,” the woman began nervously, seeming distressed, “I don’t know if he’s mentioned anything to you—”

He and I had already had a conversation of the ‘situation’ that they were referring to. Draco had been tasked by Voldemort himself with killing Albus Dumbledore, the brilliant Hogwarts Headmaster. Everyone knew that such a feat could hardly even be accomplished by the Dark Lord himself; this was less of an assignment, and more of a humiliating death sentence for Draco.

“I am, of course, privy to your situation,” Father cut her off sympathetically.

“You are?” she asked in relief.

“Of course he is,” Bellatrix chimed in dismissively.

“I know that Draco is to kill Albus Dumbledore, Narcissa,” my father assured her.

Narcissa grew uncomfortable as he said the words out loud, as if still getting used to it herself. My father looked her in the eyes, his confident and commanding demeanor comforting her. And then, he surprised us all.

“I know that Draco has been ordered to kill Albus Dumbledore… and as friends to our family, I am offering you my daughter’s help,” he decided finally.

I remained calm, confining my surprise to the area just behind my eyes as I looked at Draco, who seemed to just be determined to brood in the corner, glaring down at the ground as if it had caused his predicament.

“You would do that for us?” Narcissa asked softly, in complete shock.

My father nodded solemnly. “I would.”

“I don’t need help, Mother,” Draco spoke up sullenly, as everyone looked at him. “I can do it myself.”

Narcissa seemed horrified at her son’s interruption.

“Draco!” she hissed under her breath. “I’m sorry, Edric, he didn’t mean that, we’re eternally grateful—”

“It’s quite alright,” Father promised her, unfazed.

I looked over at Draco, who still refused to look up. It seemed he was anger was directed even at me, despite the fact that I had nothing to do with this decision.

“Listen, I agree your mother’s being a bit excessive, but don’t be an idiot, Draco,” his aunt reminded him, “If Edric Selwyn offers you his daughter’s help, you take it!”

“I’m sorry, I hate to ask such a thing of you, Edric,” Narcissa apologized sadly, “But as you know, we can’t afford another failure… The Dark Lord, he speaks highly of you, and of your daughter’s abilities, so I came to you—”

“I understand, Narcissa,” my father promised the woman, “You have no need to explain yourself to me.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, “You’ve been so kind…”

“Elise will aid Draco in the assassination of Albus Dumbledore, out of respect for yours and Lucius’ friendship to our family, as well as that of our ancestors’, throughout the years,” my father declared. “Elise, as my sole heir, is a loyal soldier of my family, and now, of the Dark Lord’s. We all belong to the same family, and so, we are obligated to yours as you are to ours.”

“Bloody good of you, Edric,” Bellatrix said approvingly.

“May I be dismissed?” Draco asked, interrupting once again.

Narcissa shot him a glare, as my father just nodded, unbothered by his presence.

“Yes, you may. Elise as well,” he nodded.

Draco disappeared out the door automatically, and I felt obligated to follow him. I already had difficulty finding him as I stepped out the door. I eventually realized he was headed for the library, and entered the room after him. He seemed insistent on pouting like a petulant child, haphazardly flipping through a random book he’d grabbed off the shelf.

“Not thrilled about this, then, are you?” I deduced.

“Fuck off, Selwyn,” Draco retorted, lazily throwing his body across one of the chairs.

I watched him as he aggressively flipped through the pages. “That was one of my mother’s favorites, you know.”

The blond suddenly stopped what he was doing, staring at the book before shutting it with more care, neatly placing it back on the shelf. As angry and spiteful as he was feeling at the moment, it seemed even Draco understood the sensitivity of the topic of dead mothers, at least in some settings.

“It’s alright, you can read it,” I offered coolly. “I hear she used to say that books are meant to be read.”

Draco went back to ignoring me completely, staring at nothing as he made it a point not to talk to me at all. I had no idea what he was actually thinking about, but I could tell that, beneath his sleeve, his Mark was bothering him.

“It hurts,” I said darkly, “Doesn’t it?”

He just looked up at me, sneering as he pretended the conversation was beneath him before returning to his glaring at the wall.

“Alright. If you’re not going to talk, then at least listen,” I began, crossing my arms. “My father has very high expectations of me as his heir, and I’m guessing you can relate.”

I took his silence for an affirmative response.

“I know why you want this so badly; if you somehow manage to kill one of the greatest wizards of all time at sixteen, the Dark Lord might just vindicate your family,” I thought aloud.

The way he looked at me suggested I hit a nerve.

“But, if he really wants both of this on this, then neither of us can afford to fail,” I pointed out. “And I don’t know how you feel about all this, but we’re really going to have to want this.”

“I do want this!” Draco yelled, jumping out of his seat as he frustratedly ran a hand through his almost white blond hair. “You don’t know anything about me! I want nothing more than to see that old man dead!”

“Okay,” I murmured, accepting that answer, “Then let’s give it all we’ve got. I know you’ll probably want to keep things discreet, but if all else fails, one of us needs to be prepared to walk into his office and cast that Killing Curse.”

“And if it comes to it, I’ll do it,” Draco snarled, his face contorting into an ugly scowl.

“I’m not saying that you won’t,” I promised him quietly, “But I’m telling you that if you don’t… I will.”

He looked at me with pure hatred in his eyes, although the longer I looked into them, the more I noticed that it wasn’t necessarily for me.

“Listen, I don’t care who kills Dumbledore, as long as he’s dead before the end of the school year,” I continued. “As long as my family is safe, I don’t care. You wanna have your moment of glory, and make your father proud? That’s your business,” I stated.

He still had nothing to say, looking at me cautiously as if I were playing on a different team.

“We’ll go about this your way, and I’ll do whatever you want, but if in the end that’s not enough, I will kill Albus Dumbledore myself,” I vowed. “Just like you, my family has a reputation I can’t afford to tarnish. If we fail, you’ll answer to the Dark Lord first, but I’ll answer to my father.”

There was a long silence that lingered between the two of us in that moment. Finally, Draco had nothing to say, and simply listened to what I had to say.

“I know that you were just chosen for this to spite your father,” I said gently. “I know he just wants you to die in his place—”

“I won’t die! I was chosen! I’m the Chosen One!” he declared angrily. “You-Know-Who chose me to do this, because I’m the best! This is my chance to make things right, and you won’t steal it from me!”

“Listen. If we fuck this up, he’ll kill us before the Dark Lord even gets the chance,” I assured him.

“We’ll kill him,” Draco insisted bitterly through his teeth, all the vengeance in the world behind his blue eyes, “I can promise you that.”

-

Part III

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 11 The Guest Bedroom Burglar Beating

I amuse myself

The more you look the worse it gets!

(Even as Mr. Shadow, Irratino is still goat lord)

This episode's got new characters, but I was too tired to draw yesterday </3

I'll have Maid Marble's design tomorrow probably, and Manservant Brownstone isn't different enough to warrant an official artwork I don't think? He's a taller Brownstone in a suit with emo hair and visible eyes, and both antlers intact. Meaning he's NOT the clone from the one episode where Brother Brownstone dies so this opens up a new can of worms

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Lady Violet is not doing well. As in, she won’t stop sobbing!

LOGICO: Hey… it will be alright. I promise.  VIOLET: [in hysterics] Yeah… you were the one who was begging for something to go wrong! LOGICO: I… um. VIOLET: Just go… go to your bedroom or something, here’s the key…

Logico sighs. Poor Violet. He’ll find a way to make it better. But he clambers to his bedroom.

Aaaaaaaaand it looks bigger than should be physically possible to be attached to this building, unsurprisingly. Gold-plated, fountain on the balcony, busts of Lord Violet staring at you while you sleep and pee, bathroom bigger than Logico’s entire apartment blah blah blah. He can barely get onto the bed because it’s so large (and he’s so small!). There’s a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. But he finally gets up there. He’s out of breath. 

The cleaning service comes in and sweeps a tad, and a person who looks eerily like Brownstone (but not quite) hands him a drink. He tucks into the silky comforter. Ahh, softgico <3

A window breaks! A burglar has entered the room! Logico rolls off and under the bed, praying that they won’t notice him. He hyperventilates as he hears the footsteps coming closer… 

There’s a scream, a crash, and a thud!... then silence. Scared for his life, Logico peeks out, but all he sees is the dead burglar. Someone has saved him! But no one else is there anymore… He smacks himself.

LOGICO: Logico you fool! Regardless of if someone has saved my life, this is a MURDER, and I have to deal with it like DEDUCTIVE LOGICO!

He goes out. He sees the maid (Marble), the butler Brownstone, and Bronze, the guy from the airport.

VIOLET: Again?

Logico nods. At least this time it was for a good cause. He first corners the maid, who’s giving real wolf-from-little-red-riding-hood vibes.

MARBLE: I’m sorry dearie… I tried my best to clean the room! LOGICO: No, not that! I want to know if you have blood on your claws. MARBLE: Oh heavens!

She drops her broom and cowers. Logico has to admit it’s a pretty good helpless routine. Bronze, meanwhile, is looking clueless as always, reading a fascinating book.

LOGICO: And what might that book be? BRONZE: Does it matter? LOGICO: Now it does. BRONZE: It is just a biography of Lord Violet. It is the only thing to read in this place… LOGICO: I want see! M. BROWNSTONE: [ahem] LOGICO: OH, what do you want, Brother Brownstone? You’re supposed to be dead. M. BROWNSTONE: Manservant. Manservant Brownstone. I work here and am a separate individual from my short younger brother.

Irratino is by himself. He draws a marot card, revealing a crucial clue. But Logico cannot see it. He sighs. 

IRRATINO: Please… let me see him soon.

Logico has uncovered his culprit - Chauffeur Bronze! The beast recoils in fear of punishment. But everyone cheers!

LOGICO: Well… you did save my life. BRONZE: Aw… really? [blush] VIOLET: It’s official! We HAVE to have a party in your honor!

And they do. Bronze is so happy!

BRONZE: No one has ever appreciated me this much before! Thank you…

Logico kicks back at the party, a nice break from the chaos. He hears the guests talking.

VIOLET: That was just so amazing! I wish I could have seen it happen! MARBLE: Just as when Lord Violet avenged his beloved Beryl…

Logico tingles at these words. It seems like everyone knows the lore but him! But it’s not time to worry about that. He closes his eye and enjoys a free moment.

The end!

i can hardly bear to see them separated!!!

Come back my squishy goat lord.

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[duchess-kyuupid]

Hi! Your fic about Idia melted my heart.

Could I request a female reader singing Zero from Vanitas no Carte (it's in English) to Jamil at VDC because she admires and adores him?

Of course! I loved Vanitas no Carte, especially the ed song- like it's so pretty! Once again, for anyone who wants to listen along or has never heard the song, here it is! And sorry it took some time, dearie! I should be working on my college paper rn, but I've kept you waiting for long enough! Hope you enjoy <3

[Fem! Reader (no pronouns used, so it can be read as gn too), Fluff, Set in Book 5] {Uh,, this is a long one guys... About 4,600 words, for reference...Whoops, sorry not sorry I love this man to bits lol}

~Dedicating a Song to Jamil at SDC/VDC~

Okay, well, admittedly, you may have been more relieved than you should have been that you were not accepted into Vil's little group to represent the school. You always thought that your voice wasn't that great, but Grim wanted to tryout with you, and Crowley was offering to improve your living conditions at the Ramshackle dorm, so reluctantly you had agreed. You felt quite fortunate that Grim's off-tune (and frankly horrid) singing drowned out your own at the audition. However, Grim did not share those same sentiments.

"Hmph, they're missing out by not picking me, my singing is clearly superior to those two," Grim pouts as you carry him in your arms back home. He said that it'd make him feel better after basically being forced into a manager role in their group.

"Shouldn't you be proud for Ace and Deuce for making the cut? Besides, we're still helping out by letting them stay at our dorm. You'll get to watch them work themselves to the bone while you'll be getting tuna for doing basically nothing on the sidelines, isn't that a win for you?" You reason in an attempt to cheer him up a little.

"Hmm, I guess you're right! I'll be living in the lap of luxury while those two idiots do all the work!" he chuckles evilly with a mischievous smile. You supposed cheering him up wasn't such a difficult thing to do when you knew what to say.

"But don't you want to participate too?" he asks out of the blue.

"What? Me, participate? Nonono, that sort of thing isn't for me- I'm not that great, honestly. I think I'd just rather just settle with being their manager than going up there with them," you chuckle nervously.

"But you know," he chuckles, a gleam in his eyes that tells you that he's up to no good again, "I think I remember hearing a certain someone's voice singing in the middle of the night sometimes. 'Was so pretty I couldn't go back to sleep."

"I-I, well, are you sure that it wasn't just the ghosts pulling a prank on you?" your face starting to erupt in that tell-tale sign of embarrassment that revealed to Grim that he was exactly on the right track. With a haughty laugh and an evil smile, he replies,

"Nope. Asked them already, and they even said they saw you singing in the courtyard." Busted. You groan loudly and try to look away from Grim's teasing looks, but alas, as you were currently carrying him in your arms, facing yourself away from him would require you to rotate your head around like an owl- that or you'd just have to stop looking where you were walking and risk tripping over something.

"Please don't tell me how many times you heard me..." you say as your ears become redder than Riddle's hair.

"Fufufu, I don't understand why you're so embarrassed about it! You've clearly got some talent in singing- not as much as me of course, but it's still impressive for a human! So why didn't you sing like that at the audition? We could've been part of the team and had all the spotlight together!"

"Well, that's the problem," you half-heartedly laugh, scratching your cheek nervously, "I'm not a big fan of the spotlight. I've actually always wanted to be a singer, but I always got stage fright so I never went through with it."

"OHOHOHO, is my dearest Prefect of Ramshackle in need of my everlasting kindness?" you hear a sudden voice proclaim from above you and you shriek in surprise as Headmaster Crowley, quite literally, drops right in front of you out of nowhere.

"Hey! Stop showing up out of the blue like that! Ya nearly gave me a heart attack!" Grim exclaims (who may or may not have accidentally scratched your arms in his own shock). Crowley ignores Grim's complaints as he stares into your eyes with a wide, knowing smile.

"I couldn't help but overhear that you enjoy singing, and!" he emphasizes, "I just so happened to be nearby the area when you were doing your audition. I believe that should be sufficient to grant you a spot for a solo at the SDC."

"Huh?"

"You need not thank me for my generosity! I know that I am just ever so kind to my wonderful students- it is simply a part of my job as the Headmage of this amazing academy! Oh, but, there is the tiny fact that you will not be representing our school in your performance, but I'm sure that you will be more than happy with the arrangements nonetheless!" Crowley proclaims excitedly. Your mind was still reeling in confusion, as is most encounters with this man, so Grim asks in your place,

"Right, so what's the catch?"

To which Crowley gasps dramatically as if he's been hurt by Grim's question, "To think of such a thing! Why, I'm merely extending my gratitude towards one of my favorite students who I only wish to see succeed!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure you do," Grim states with a pensive look on his face.

"Buuuut, if said favorite student of mine did want to sing at the SDC competition- the solo competition is considered separate from the group acts, and thus the first place winner of the solo's will also receive a fair compensation of around 25 thousand Thaumarks! Isn't that just enticing?" At the sound of that, Grim immediately hops on board; he looks to you with excited eyes, almost begging you to accept the offer.

"Uhm, why are you asking me for this specifically, headmage?" you ask quietly.

"Why, it's as I've stated earlier, I merely wish to see you succeed! Aren't I so generous?"

"Well, I mean, you probably heard what I was saying earlier. I'm not good with crowds, so I-"

"Hush, hush with that nonsense!" Crowley interrupts you by bringing up a finger to your mouth to stop you from speaking, "I know I already promised you better living arrangements for lending the Ramshackle dorm to Vil's group, however, if you decide to agree to this solo act, then I will also arrange for free personal catering for you at Ramshackle....But only for lunch!" And he steps back from you with his hands on his hips, standing proud at his joke of an offer.

"Isn't that just like lunch at the school cafeteria? And besides, I'm not even at the dorm at lunchtime during the school week."

"Sounds like a great deal, sign me up!" Grim exclaims, despite your words.

"Wonderful, wonderful! I'm so glad that you've agreed! I look forward to your spectacular performance!" And without another word, Crowley flies away to who knows where, almost as if to avoid having to answer to whatever you had to say next.

"Grim, you're grounded from eating any tuna until after the SDC is over."

"What?!"

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

By now it was far, far too late to be changing your mind about this- if you've even had a choice in it to begin with. You wish right now that you could have just turned Crowley down when you had the chance, but now you were stuck with this. Stuck with having to come up with something for this show. Stuck here sitting in the middle of the night with only two weeks before the event, with nothing but a blank page to showcase for your 'routine.'

Half of it's because of your work as the new 'manager' for Vil's group, half of it's because you're also trying to keep up with your normal school work too, but the biggest reason why you've hardly touched it is because you just...don't know what to do.

Most of the time, the songs you'd sing out in the courtyard would be songs your parents wrote and sang to you as a child, so they became your way of connecting back to home. Sure, you've written one or two songs of your own because you really did want to become a singer, but you always felt that those songs could never compare to the ones other people would write. And now, having to watch over Vil's group like this, you can't help yourself from comparing yourself to them.

But you technically made a promise, and you were going to go through with it. So, you decided that you would not go to sleep until you've written at least one (1) verse. Unfortunately, this has resulted in you staring at a blank piece of paper for the past 5 hours, with nothing coming up in your head to write about for your song and the time was nearing almost 5 a.m. Vil was definitely going to reprimand you tomorrow for getting no sleep, but it is technically also your fault for deciding not to tell any of them about your entry.

There's no hard feelings against them, of course, it's just that, you thought that if you did decide to tell them that you were also participating in the event, maybe it wouldn't work out too well for you. Sometimes, they can be a little bit...overbearing, to put it kindly, so you didn't want them to influence the song you're writing with their strong personalities. Vil would probably make you go through his own special skincare routine, both Rook and Kalim would give you so many compliments that you wouldn't be able to find any constructive criticism, and Ace and Deuce would probably give you too much criticism, under the guise of teasing you. And Epel? You honestly don't know how he'd react. He might just be in agreement with you as you both mutually didn't want to do this, but in the end you don't see him being very helpful seeing as how well he's been doing recently.

Jamil was probably the only one you could bring yourself to trust with this. He'd give you his solid, honest opinion without being too harsh or too jokey about it. He knows a lot about a lot of different things, so he could offer some advice on your song- what to change, what might sound better, and the like. Which would be helpful, if you had anything written down to begin with.

And in your tired, sleep-deprived state, you thought it'd be a great idea to go to him and ask for advice at this hour. So you leave your room quietly, knocking upon his door to get his attention. It didn't really take very long to wake him up in this way, and he answers the door in his pajamas with his face looking like he was fully awake and ready for anything.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" he asks gravely as he sees the look on your face (to be fair, you almost looked like a dead person with your tired eyes and your hunched over posture).

"Not an emergency. Need advice," you mumble.

"Advice for what? Can it wait until the morning? What are you even doing up this early?" he sighs.

You take a second to respond to his questions in your sleepy, delirious state, but when your mind finally processes it, you just give him a tiny shrug and a measly, 'I dunno.'

So with yet another sigh coming from him, he gently escorts you back to your room, assuming that you're just one of those types of people who lucidly sleepwalk sometimes. But when he tries to set you back in your bed, you stubbornly stand in place, crying out, "No! I'm not going to sleep until I write something down."

"You're trying to write something?"

You nod, "Mhm, but I don't know what. My parents would write about each other. They would write about the things they love. I wanna be like them, but..." your words drift away as your mind tries to succumb to sleep.

"So you want advice on what to write?" he asks with yet another sigh, and you manage to nod your head again, stubborn as you are to not sleep until you've gotten something done. "Then my advice for you is to go to sleep. Forcing yourself like this isn't going to get you anywhere. Having a clear mind is essential to writing. And when you've got plenty of rest, go outside and try out some new things. Sometimes all it takes is a change of scenery to get your inspiration going. I'll tell the others not to bother you today, so just rest for as long as you need to," he says quietly. If you were actually lucid enough to pay attention to his body language, you'd have noticed the soft looks he was giving you, or the way that he was being as gentle as possible with you as he led you back to your bed successfully.

In any case, you accepted his advice, falling dead asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow, and Jamil is left shaking his head at your (adorable) antics as he walks back to his own room.

When you woke up, it was nearly 2 in the afternoon, and as promised, no one had bothered you at all. In fact, the whole dorm was quiet, with not a single soul to be seen. Which was completely reasonable, seeing as how technically school was still in session right now and the others would have practice for a few more hours in the ballroom of the Pomefiore building after that. In other words, you had the whole place exclusively for yourself for the rest of the day.

And yet, you found something quite peculiar sitting on your bedside table. It was a tea set, with a piping hot cup of tea sitting in the middle and a small note leaning against it. Holding up the note closer to your face, you can see that it reads,

'I've used magic to make sure that the tea stays warm no matter how many hours pass, but it starts to wear off when you touch it. The tea is an herbal remedy, supposed to help you clear your mind and stay focused. I wish you luck with your writing. Signed, Jamil'

Jamil made this? For you? Your face grows red in embarrassment as you recall asking for vague advice last night (or this morning, technically). You take a sip of the tea anyway, and you could feel inspiration coming to you as your thoughts continued to wander to Jamil.

'His smile. His kindness. His determination and his thoughtfulness. There's a million different things I could write about him and yet never reach the end of all the amazing things about him.'

And for the rest of the day, it was as if your pen had a mind of its own as it flew across the paper to retell your experience of you finding something that has always been there, yet you're only just realizing it now.

~~~~~~~~~

And so finally, the day of the event had arrived. It was organized so that the groups would perform first, then the solo performers would come after, and then the results of the competition would follow that, which admittedly made you nervous because it meant that the person you've dedicated this song to will be watching you perform said song. You dreaded the idea of being so vulnerable in front of this many people, however, if it meant that you could release all of these pent-up emotions within you, then perhaps it might do you some good to let it all out...

You dressed as nicely as you could, given the limited amount of clothing you had available to you since you've come to this world, but you thought you did a pretty good job at making yourself look presentable out there.

But now, it was finally go-time. All of that preparation, the secret trips to the woods at night to practice your singing and your dancing, the little glances over to Jamil as he's practicing his own routine- all of it is going to be put to the test here and now. The only barrier between you and first place now is your conviction to sing about your love for a certain Scarabian dorm member.

Your name gets called on the speakers, and you sheepishly walk up on stage with your microphone. Your eyes instinctively begin to search the crowd for your friends, but you stop yourself before you could find them because seeing their faces might make you even more nervous than you already are. You stand in the middle of the stage for a moment as the crowd quietens and the instrumentals of your song begins.

'Jamil, I dedicate this song to you- you who gave me the inspiration to compose, you who has given me the courage to follow my dreams. To you, who I've loved for all this time without realizing it. Please, accept my feelings as I sing just for you,' you think, taking a deep breath, and you start to sing.

'Ahead in the empty distance, Fading away unanswered, I turn off the lights to see all the colors in the shadow, Travels across an instant, Far beyond tomorrow, I'm watching a faint breath send a ripple through the water'

Your voice rings out softly, with a gentleness most wouldn't expect for a song appearing at SDC as it echoes through the stadium. And you smile as you get lost in your thoughts again about Jamil. He has always been the type of person to stay in the shadows, always trying his best to avoid any unnecessary attention being drawn to him, but alas, it was exactly because of this that his presence made such faint ripples in your heart to begin with. As the music kicks up a notch, you begin to start your carefully choreographed dance that accompanied this song.

'When I lose myself, I become you, Ichi kara juu leads me back to, Here inside your veil, Finer than a grand view, We'll take a dive, Not even tides can come between us,'

And you recall clear as day how when you were basically delirious from sleep deprivation, your mind's first thoughts were to go to him. Because you knew that you could trust Jamil with anything (despite his many warnings that you shouldn't trust him as much as you do). Your dance suddenly changes its slow momentum as the song progresses to be a bit faster.

'Was it you who I've been searching for, Spent my life alone and waited for, So tenderly and endlessly, You made me whole, you made me whole'

Coming to Twisted Wonderland has been in equal parts exciting and fun, yet so terribly lonely for you. You were lonely even in your own world, never having many friends who would support your interests, but Jamil always made you feel like you could be yourself around him. He was always just,,, safe.

'And the walls I built they melt away, With every touch in your embrace, Every day, every night, every note I play, You made me whole, you made me whole.'

You've become truly entranced into your thoughts, the lyrics and the dance movements coming to you naturally as your mind focuses on other things. From the crowd (that you've long since forgotten about), the people listening in were stunned to silence, enchanted by your voice and your song. Even your group of friends were staring at you with wide eyes as you continued to sing. Especially Jamil.

'How could I have been so blinded, Running away in circles, I hear my doubts drop, When I see you in the mirror,

Right beneath the surface, Washed away my sorrows, I feel your heartbeat, As it echoes through the hour'

Jamil can only stare at you with his eyes as wide as saucers, just like everyone else. Has he ever heard you sing before? No, he doesn't think he has, but he knows that you auditioned with Grim, Ace, and Deuce in front of Rook and Vil, so with a voice as beautiful as yours, why weren't you picked to represent the school? There must have been some sort of mistake in the auditioning process. You clearly had more talent than Ace and Deuce combined...

'When I lose myself, I become you, You are the moment I belong to, Here without our names,'

'Yes, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet... Jamil is so much more than just a servant to the Al-Asims. Oh, to be rid of the Viper name so that he no longer needs to suffer like he has.'

'We're back to being brand new, There's no need to hide, Just you and I until forever'

And as you repeat the chorus, Jamil can't help but to feel like certain parts of this song are quite familiar to him. Like the lyrics are grabbing hold of his heart and caressing it with the tenderness of a lover.

'Was it you who I heard through the door, When I cried and had no place to go? Every day, every night, every note I play, You made me whole, you made me whole.

Tracing and tracing the sunset, Appearing a zero and finally, Now I remember, Oh I have never lived a day without you

Untie the layer of memories, Louder we spin with the melody You are the only, only one for me'

No no no, this couldn't possibly be what he's thinking. This song is clearly a romantic ballad for someone that you must've fallen in love with at some point in time (either here or in your world). This 'familiarity' is just something his mind is making up. And just as he begins to dismiss his initial thoughts, you happen to finally make eye contact with him. You repeat the chorus again with a look in your eyes that convey everything that you're singing and more as you lose yourself to the music.

'I'll never believe I'm alone, In the end, we begin, 'till we meet again, You made me whole, you made me whole

I know I'm never alone.'

And with that, the song comes to an end, and the instrumentals fade out until the auditorium just sits still in complete silence. About a solid minute passes of silence, and you stare up at the crowd with an awkward look on your face. Thinking that this was something that the crowd has disliked, you were just about to apologize for your performance, but then the entire place erupts in an excited cheer.

"WHAT AN AN AWE-INSPIRING PERFORMANCE FROM A STUDENT AT NRC! WHY I DO BELIEVE THAT THIS MUST'VE BEEN ONE OF THE BEST WE'VE SEEN SO FAR!" you hear the announcer exclaim loudly on the speakers. You stare in shock at the loud crowd, looking at all of the happy faces (some were legitimately crying, namely Rook) cheering for you. In your embarrassment, your face reddens and you try to hide it behind your hands as you let out a meek 'thank you' to the microphone. You bow quickly and move to go backstage, but then you hear someone starting to chant 'Encore!' with many others following suit.

You leave it to the announcers to try to calm the crowd- there was absolutely no way you were going to sing another song up there again. You walk through the halls of the backstage area to get back to... Well, you didn't know where you wanted to go right now. Your face was so red right now and you were so embarrassed that you didn't know if you'd be able to handle the reactions of your friends congratulating you. Even worse, you don't know how you'd handle having Jamil congratulating you, with his stupidly cute smile and his devilishly charming eyes. You'd probably faint.

But speak of the devil and he shall appear, you see Jamil and the rest of your friends in Vil's group walking up to you with various different reactions on their faces. Predictably, Ace was teasing you for hiding away your good singing voice, Deuce and Epel both congratulated you like a normal person would, and Rook and Kalim were both brought to tears at your performance- to the point where Vil and Jamil basically had to rip them away from you (with the condition that you'd give Rook your autograph). Vil stared at you with his normal stern look at first before smiling and patting your head, saying something along the lines of you becoming yet another rival of his.

Jamil, though, he waited until everyone else was done with you before approaching you. Your heart had calmed down tremendously by then, but when you saw him walking up to you, you could feel your heart pounding inside your chest nervously. He gives you his most charming smile with a proud look on his face, and he says gently,

"You were amazing up there. I had no idea you could sing like that."

"Hehe, thanks," you chuckle nervously, looking anywhere but his handsome face, "I-uh... Remember that time I went to your room asking for advice on what to write?" he nods. "Yeah, well, that was for this, so uhm... Thank you, for, you know- giving me inspiration to write that song..."

"I gave you inspiration?" he hums, "I only told you to rest. I don't recall doing anything particularly inspiring." You let out a tiny squeak as you try to explain,

"Well! You know how it goes, one day you've got nothing and then another, you've got everything! You don't need to do anything specific to be inspired, it can just come out of nowhere!" you chuckle awkwardly, and in your nervousness you continued to talk, "And besides, you're plenty inspiration for me without even having to do anything! I wrote it for you, after all!" After the words left your mouth, you gasp and cover your mouth with your hands as your face burns bright red in embarrassment.

Jamil stares at you in shock for a moment after hearing your words. You wrote that...for him? Really? Him?

Well, he did have his suspicions of that at first, with the lyrics sounding as familiar as they did, but he brushed it off earlier, thinking that there would be no way that you would've written something so...so... romantic, for him. Did you really feel that way about him? Did you really reciprocate his feelings for you-- the ones that he's decided long ago to bury beneath the ground because there was absolutely no way you were going to like him that way?

Only one way to find out, he supposes.

Jamil slowly brings his hand to lift your face to look at him. The look in your eyes betrayed many of your emotions- embarrassment, anxiety...and hidden in it's depths, he thought he could see hints of adoration within them. In the past, he has considered using his unique spell to make you fall in love with him, however he has always decided against it, for one reason or another. So he knows that the emotions behind your eyes are real- that the lyrics for your song, which was made for him, was real.

So he takes a small leap of faith, choosing to kiss the side of your cheek, "Thank you, Prefect. It was a very lovely song."

"No," you say breathlessly (you were also in shock because you thought he was going to kiss your lips), "Thank you for being my muse."

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

OKAY, admittedly, this took me forever, but that's mostly on me for writing so much exposition before getting to the *actual* request part of the story lol Anon I hope that I didn't keep you waiting for too long for this request, and I hope that it was to your liking!