#pondering his rat

[wraithsoutlaws]

when you're out missing your rat and you gotta go home to see him

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

wondering about Frank and insects but specifically about how it looks like the WH insects are highly stylized, so does Frank even know anything about real butteflies/insects?

& if he saw a real one, would he recognize it? are all of the species names he applies to the WH bugs real, or are they all made up like "Vibrant Eyespot" or "Fluttering Heartwing"?

and then there's the question - does the neighborhood have some of the more 'undesirable' bugs like moths, worms, roaches, spiders? does it have bugs outside of the generic groups of beetles and butterflies? like are there mantids? leafbugs? dragonflies? weevils? or are those too specific/complex/not-cute for the Playfellow Workshop to have included?

and then there's the question of what are the bugs? props? puppets? are they alive or do the neighbors just perceive them as such? Do they even exist outside of art, storybooks, and animated segments? I highly doubt they're alive like the neighbors are, since in the gif of Frank's head spinning, the framed butterflies' wings are moving. which is kind of horrifying if you think about it for more than a second.

just... the critters Frank loves so so so much being a complete fabrication... every piece of knowledge he prides himself on / delights in knowing being utterly Untrue... oof

[claycoded]

Rat king is finally finished <3 he’s one of the first things I made when the studio opened up in September, and one of my first forays into handbuilding and sculpture

[tabl3]

tossing around the idea of giving chase dimples

[thehordemultimuse]

And if I add Yellow and Blue Tails to my muse list, what than? What will you do if child prodigy trans lesbian Tails approaches you with mildly malicious intent?

[muchtodoonterror]

excellent tags via @boogiewoogieweeb

and I wonder if Heather had lived - Tozer has that weight on his conscience and already feels in adequate to his task. Heather's loss has started to unpick the seams of his confidence in command's ability to keep them alive. If that hadn't happened, would Tozer have been been more able to take the shock of finding the ruins of Fairholme's party? Would he have been more able to understand why Crozier wanted it kept secret? It's almost like he's been so completely disillusioned, he doesn't understand why the others should be protected from the grimmest parts of their situation. I think finding Fairholme is what finally turned him, and if his faith in both himself and his captain hadn't been so shaken...... well, as you say, how differently could it all have gone?

It also would have radically changed his take on the need to haul the sick... with Heather there is hope. But if Heather couldn't be saved, could anyone? If that's where trying to save Heather got him, why bother?

If Heather hadn't died at Carnivale, Tozer would've hauled Heather across King William Land until he dropped in harness himself. If he had no boat to haul him in he would've thrown him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and marched.

[arolesbianism]

JUST GOT THE LOG WHERE NIKOLA. THE. THE "EVIL" LOG. WHAT RHE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK? that was. a lot of lore all at once. and this is a phrase i normally reserve for olivia but. NIKOLA WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU

YEAH IK RIGHT. Nikola is so fucked he's a rabbit hole that just keeps going, and "evil" in particular is sooooo fascinating because it's one of the like what 2 logs that we can be pretty sure are towards the end of the timeline, and it's the only one that gives us a real look into how fucked gravitas was at the end. Nikola in particular is soooo fascinating to see in that log because in other logs we see him mentioned in, managing the temporal bow wasn't his job, or at least if it was he was perfectly capable of leading other ambitious projects on the side, which I find unlikely but it is technically possible. So the question of what the fuck happened with him is soooo fascinating, and it's a big part of the reason he's one of my favorites among the scientists

[toxicanonymity]

rat in a cage.

1.2k, m!ghostface x f!reader | slasher master

A/N: This is NOT the Every Inch ghostface/universe. This is a completely standalone one shot. SUMMARY: Ghostface is pursuing you. When you both get trapped in a lab on campus, you make a temporary truce. WARNINGS: I8+ Dubcon P in V, cockwarming, degradation, choking, creampie, lab rats in the building, huddling for warmth lmaoo, reader can sit on him and be partially lifted.

Before you realized you were both trapped in the building, you got into a scuffle and caused his knife to fall down a drain in the floor. He got on top of you, pinned you with his weight, and choked you, but it wasn't a choke to kill. His gloved hand was applying just enough pressure in just the right places to feel good. That's when it hit you that he didn't want to kill you. He could've snapped you like a twig from that position if he wanted.

You smiled, and he released your throat.

“Mm,” you sighed. “take off your mask if ya wanna kiss me that bad.”

Ghostface tilted his head and looked at you. The voice modulator kicked in. “what makes you think I want that filthy mouth on me?” He grabbed your jaw and squeezed your mouth open. He brought his other gloved hand to your lips and gagged you with two gloved fingers.

"I asked you a question," he prodded.

"I 'unno" you mumbled into his fingers and reached for his crotch, trying to wedge your hand between your torsos. His fingers slid out of your mouth and his hand flew to your wrist to stop you. He pinned your hands above your head, one of his gloves wet with your saliva.

“You don't wanna kill me,” you breathed.

You seemed to have him at a loss for words. He was a different guy without his knife -- still menacing, but not lethal.

“Not tonight." He got up and left you on the ground. He swiftly made for the exit, robe trailing behind him.

But the door was locked. Awkward.

—

Now you've been trapped long enough that he’s run out of clever, taunting things to say, so he just doesn't talk. The main sound is lab rats squeaking and trying to burrow for warmth in their enclosure. It's cold in this building. You don't have sleeves and your legs are bare, too.

Ghostface sits against the wall with his knees up. You're shivering in a corner by yourself, replaying your interactions with Ghostface in your mind. Has he ever really, truly hurt you? He's had chances to kill you. Why didn't he? Your teeth start chattering.

Eventually he sighs and says "Get over here." You look at him, pondering it. He opens his arms and adds, “This offer expires in thirty seconds.”

You scurry over to him, planning to sit between his knees but he straightens his legs out so they're together, and he lifts up his robe for you to get underneath. He's wearing joggers and a matching sweatshirt underneath. You're more scantily clad. "Why don't you just give me the robe," you ask.

"Don't press your luck," he answers.

You duck under his robe and straddle his thighs with your knees on the floor. "You're gonna wanna get closer than that, little rat."

You scoot forward and he lets the robe down on top of you. It's a little heavier and warmer than you imagined. When he's chasing after you, it moves like it weighs nothing.

It's pitch black under his robe. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you into him so your crotch meets his. You gasp when you feel the shape of his warm package against your crotch. "Feel somethin’ ya like?" He asks.

"You're warm," you answer, laying your cheek on his chest with your eyes closed under his robe. "Who are you?"

His laugh is as dark as it is quiet.

You tuck your arms under your chest and he keeps his arms wrapped around you. He smells good. A woodsy, minty scent. He caresses you as he holds you. God, he feels like. . .a man. A real man. His breaths get deeper, his chest rising under you. It happens gradually, but at some point there's no mistaking the bulge you're sitting on is hard, and it's for you. He brings his arms into the robe. His gloved hands pull your skirt up over your ass with a soft grunt not caught by the voice changer. Then he takes his gloves off.

His hands are huge and warm on your bare ass cheeks. He kneads them and his hips lift under you, the swell of his hard cock making you dizzy with need under the pitch black darkness of his robe. You sigh and he wedges a finger under your pointless little thong and snaps it. You reach back to un-wedge it from your ass cheeks and when you pull it out, he slips his finger between your ass and the garment. He slides his finger all the way down, under you, until he reaches your wet little hole. You're beginning to gush.

He sighs, then the voice changer says - "You're making a mess on me, princess."

He lifts you with a grunt, then pulls his joggers down under his cock. He sets you back down, angling you strategically so your front meets his smooth, thick shaft. It's throbbing and burning hot, right between your legs. You sigh. His hands return to your ass and he moves your body, grinding you against his hard cock a few times.

Then, to your horror, you help him take it further. You pull your thong to the side as he lifts you and notches himself at your entrance. You whimper as your cunt swallows his tip, then your body spreads itself apart for him as you sink down his thick shaft. Ghostface shudders and you gasp when your bodies are flush.

“Good,” he whispers in a deep, human voice. Your body accommodates him and you get even wetter. You begin to move, needing to fuck yourself on his cock, but he holds you down and makes you still. “Sit,” he commands at full volume ghostface voice. “Stay.” The hair on your neck stands up.

You sit still on his cock.

“Good,” he says, then adds, "Hmm." He pats your head where it rests on his shoulder.

You sit there in his lap, wrapped around the body of this man, in total darkness under his robe, absolutely full of his cock. You relax enough that you begin to get sleepy. You yawn.

You sit there for what feels like an eternity. You feel stretched out, even after you relax. Your walls occasionally twitch around him, and his cock throbs and moves inside you. You’re cozy under his robe, comfortable in his arms, and throbbing on his cock. The warmth of his robe and the feeling of his arms around you lull you to sleep.

Almost as soon as you drift off, he thrusts his hips up and jolts you awake with the punch of his cock. He braces one hand on the floor and has the other arm around you. He leans back so you're held against his chest and he's fucking up into you. He grunts and sighs and the modulator harshly spits, “yeah, you're a good little bitch.”

He keeps fucking you from the bottom, and you feel a heat bubbling in the pit of your belly as his big cock pistons into you. Then he holds you tight against him and fucks you slower, grinding your pubic bone against his, and it's rubbing your clit and making you spasm. "You like that?" He asks.

“Oh, baby,” he breathes, then his voice is changed again. “Gonna make me cum if you're not careful.”

His words make you clench down as you see stars. You moan into his sweatshirt, and the pleasure pulses from your clit as your whole body jerks and your cunt chokes his cock. You're not finished coming when Ghostface holds you down.

You try to get off him, but he holds you down harder and erupts, filling you with his hot seed. You can't deny how good it feels with him pulsing inside you as your own climax wanes. At least you're alive, you think. At least Plan B exists.

When you begin to get off his cock, he doesn't let you. He keeps you plugged, impaled on him, long enough that you both fall asleep.

----

thank you for reading. my main ghostface series, unrelated to this one shot, is Every Inch.

i have a michael blurb with a kinda similar premise here. idk why i'm into this scenario but i guess i am lol.

[ozzgin]

Some more dick-related brain rot…😘

We take the self serve dick bar and use monsters for the monster hotel. We are going to have that full “continental breakfast.” So we have a forest entity cumming maple syrup, a Minotaur cumming milk/creme, a yeti who cums slushies, a slime who cums various jams depending on whatever fruit we feed it, and any more monsters who we can utilize ☺️

When you were talking about your rats, it made me think of some rat-hybrid monster where reader can steer him via. his dick, like a reverse Ratatouille scenario 🐀

Having a robot/android partner, I could use his dick as a literal joy stick when playing video games. Also, if I have to charge robot/android, do you think his dick acts like a giant extension cord I could just plug into the outlet in the wall? Also does that mean he technically “eats” with his dick? I assume when traveling with him internationally, I gotta get a lot of compatible adapters so he can get plugged in successfully🕹️

A Hydra monster would be kinda funny to have sex with, cause maybe if you cut its “head” down south, two more will grow back 🤔

I think that’s all for now. Tell your man that he is very much appreciated, and it’s nice he’s in this club of debauchery 😉

-👘

This amount of thirst and depravity is exactly what the monster guests would come up with just to have Reader employee touch them. 😭 Content: gender neutral reader, rancid NSFW!!! (more white sauce I’m afraid), monster smut

The latest fad your centaur manager has been into is food cooked with bodily fluids. This has had several implications, all of them regrettably involving you.

While the idea has been gripping at his mind like a great plague, he can't possibly ask you to just...let go over his breakfast toast. He can already see how exhausted you return after being used by the starved guests. They stuff you just enough for you to wonder if you'll survive it, then make sure to clean up their mess, politely aiding your speedy recovery, almost as if they weren't the cause of destruction to begin with. The manager has heard it one too many times that your nether regions are numb from all the monstrous tongues and appendages.

Maybe a change of scenery will help.

"Kitchen staff? I thought I'm supposed to clean the rooms", you inquire, somewhat confused by the sudden proposal.

"It's not quite...kitchen duties, per se. We need someone to help with the hotel's breakfast. We have a new experimental menu, though not enough...hands."

You should've expected it. How bad could it possibly be, you told yourself, pouring some orange juice for the seated guests? You had your first suspicions from the big, flashy sign now propped outside the room: service provided by our esteemed and loved human employee. You didn't need to ponder much on its meaning. Once inside, your task became painfully clear. You were to milk the guests for the required ingredients.

Having their way with you is a treat in itself, but seeing you struggle with your small, human hands, trying to figure them out? Priceless. Well, for them, anyways. Despite your protests, you have left your morning shifts with a ridiculous number of tips. Maybe it's the way you look up through your lashes as you explain: "Of course I know your weak spot. You're one of my- our regulars." Or maybe it's the way you tease your favorites, wondering out loud, with a grin, if you should have some of the generous release for your own lunch later.

Your hard work has not gone unnoticed. The centaur head manager recently made the sheepish suggestion of having you at the receiving end of this new service, trying his best to sound convincing, and hiding the fact it’s been his most ardent wish for the past couple of weeks. Maybe he will get his breakfast topping, after all.

[Monster Hotel] | [More Monsters]

[tojilvrs]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ FUCK MY EX! (AND HIS BOSS) ceo!toji fushiguro x fem reader (2.7k)

repost from my old blog!!!

⁂ warnings: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI! toji’s not a bum, reader gets cheated on (not by toji), m receiving oral, pet names, degradation, rough sex, reader’s ex sees them at the end, unprotected sex, creampie, sex as a revenge ploy, some praise, foot on head during doggy (does this have a technical name lol?), also tagging foot fetish JUST IN CASE the last thing counts lol, toji coerces reader, use of the name ‘daddy’ ONCE, spanking, some aftercare, toji steals your panties (and your heart), reader has hair long enough to be pulled

⁂ a/n: this fic literally came out of nowhere i had no plans of writing until i saw twitter porn and a little lightbulb formed above my head. anywho this is not great i wrote and proofread it while i was sleepy so if there’s mistakes don’t tell me i will get embarrassed!!!! THE PACING MIGHT ALSO BE HORRID i was just trying to get my claws on some fictional wiener. k luv u alllll <3

You never thought you could get this low.

You also never thought you’d come home to find your now ex-boyfriend balls deep in his coworker he told you not to worry about.

Way past the stages of hurt and with no more tears left to spill, you found yourself angry. You were pissed at your ex for being unfaithful. Pissed at the woman for fucking around with a man she knew was not available. And pissed at yourself for not figuring it out sooner. Once you got over your sorrows and finally felt able to pull yourself together, you just wanted to rid your apartment of anything that reminded you of him.

That's how you found yourself across the table from that rat bastard's boss. A box full of his old shit perched in your lap and your nails tapping the side of the cardboard. Scanning the room of Mr. Fushiguro's luxurious office and finding yourself filling with rage all over again knowing that the last time you were here, you were helping him get promoted.

"Pleasure seeing you again," you watched as Mr. Fushiguro took a seat in his plush office chair, "though it appears you're here to play the part of 'scorned girlfriend' instead of ‘concerned girlfriend, hm?’ Word travels fast ‘round here.”

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Right," he clasped his hands together over his chest and kicked his feet up onto his desk, knocking over his name plate, “so what're you here for, scorned ex-girlfriend?"

"Just want to give his shit back. Passing it on to you so I won't have to see him and blondie going at it in your breakroom." You watched the man crack a smile before speaking again.

"S'all you’re gonna do?" He knew your answer by the way you tore your eyes off of him and focused them on the box in your lap instead. Slightly slumping down in your chair as if you were a child in trouble trying to evade the scrutinizing gaze of a parent “Oh, don’t tell me you’re just gonna let bygones be bygones and let him get away with it scott free.”

His tone made you feel like your entire situation was almost comical. You looked back up and narrowed your eyes at the man. Scanning his face and watching the scar on his lip twitch when the corner turned up in a smirk.

“Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Don’t have to be all formal now, call me Toji.”

“Okay, what exactly are you implying, Toji?” he sighed before standing up from his desk and fixing his name plate, smirk never falling from his lips and eyes never leaving yours.

“I know he is my employee, but i’m not really… fond of him either. And you’re too pretty of a girl to just let him get away with cheating. It’d make you feel better to hurt ‘em a little bit. Get a little revenge.”

You broke away eye contact from him again to look around his office. Taking note of how sparsely decorated the area was as you pondered and tried to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t the most mature or logical decision, but he was right. It would make you feel better to make him hurt just a little bit. “And how exactly might I go about that?”

Toji laughed a little as he walked around the desk, taking the box out of your lap and placing it on the floor before settling himself behind you. The sweet tobacco scent of his cologne invaded your nostrils as he got closer to you, making his presence feel almost suffocating.

“Y’know what would really get him?” His voice sounded as if it were laced with a honeyed sweetness. The sound surrounding you and ringing around in your ears. He shifted his feet, but you still felt the heat radiating off of him and onto your back.

“What?”You felt him grow closer. Leaning down behind you. So close that you could feel his breath fan against your skin.

“Fuckin’ his boss.”

The lewd suggestion tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes widening and mouth going dry once you realized exactly what he was proposing to you. You opened your mouth to protest. To tell him how absolutely ridiculous that was, but your words fell short. Closing your mouth again to look down and stare at the indentions the corners of the cardboard box had left in your skin.

You couldn’t say that you hadn’t let your eyes linger a little too long at Toji Fushiguro. Always noticing how easy he was on the eyes when your ex would make you tag along to work events. How his suits would perfectly contour to his body. Showing off his bulging muscles through the fabric. How he seemed to tower over you and everyone else with his height and domineering presence. How your gazes would linger a little too long on each other and how his fingertips would “accidentally” graze your hips when passing you.

You were taken away from your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing up and down your jaw. His touch soft, contrasting the rough calluses that lined his fingers. You also realized he had now moved directly in front of you and you were eye-level with his crotch.

“What’ll it be, sweetness?” The tip of his thumb travelled up to your bottom lip, smearing some of your lipgloss. “Y’gonna let me help you get back at him?”

You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head, still not trusting any words to come out of your mouth. He smiled down at you, removing the hand on your chin to pet your head and using his other to unbutton his slacks.

“Gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget allllll about your little ex-boyfriend.”

You were still looking up at him dumbly as he freed heavy cock from the confines of his pants, subconsciously parting your lips and slightly sticking out your tongue at the sight of him. Relishing in the way he looked at you and the noises he made once his cock makes contact with your awaiting tongue.

“Already so good and fuckin’ obedient. Did he teach you that?” You shake your head and he cackles. Easing his way into your throat. “So you’re just naturally a whore, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, not even hard enough to sting, and moves from petting your head to gripping your hair once you take him all the way into your mouth. Testing your limits and pushing his way past the tight ring of muscle in the back of your throat, loving the way you choke and sputter around him. “Takin’ me so good. Bet that motherfucker couldn’t properly stuff your throat.”

Toji’s right- he couldn’t. He also isn’t quite as big as Toji is either, in both length and girth. It also seems that the man in front of you didn’t learn to fuck from porn like your ex did. Only pushing your limits a little bit at a time and not throatfucking you from the get-go. Also making sure you’re not suffocating on him for too long.

You began to move your tongue over the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, watching in satisfaction as he throws his head back and groans. Doing it again and again and watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Shit, baby, got the sweetest fuckin’ mouth.” His voice is huskier now, almost breathy. You watch as sweat begins to lightly bead across his forehead and his hands come off of you to loosen his tie around his collar. The air becoming too thick and hot for him. You suck him off with much more passion as you get used to his size. Bobbing your head up and down his length and occasionally pulling yourself off to lick on the sensitive skin around his balls. Not paying much mind to the spit that has run from your mouth and covered the bottom half of your face.

“That’s it- hah- fuck yeah… that’s it. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat” You kept up your ministrations, using your hand to lightly squeeze his balls as you took his full length down your throat once more. Listening as Toji’s pants became progressively more and more uneven. Only taking a few more short moments before his abs tighten and he takes in a deep inhale as he shoots his load down your throat. His leg twitching as the coil in his belly snaps. Pulling off of him to stick out your tongue and show him that you swallowed it all.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” He gripped your chin tightly and you nodded your head dumbly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled and gestured for you to walk over to the plush, black couch he kept in his office. A guiding hand resting on your lower back as he layed you down on your stomach. He took his time running his hands from your calves all the way up to your ass, like he was trying to memorize every dip in your skin. Once he reached the hem of your skirt, he flipped it up. Gently running the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and giving the right cheek a harsh slap and soothing the sting with the very same hand that inflicted it.

“Suckin’ dick make you this wet?” Your slick had soiled your panties, smearing onto your thighs. His fingers lightly ran across the soaked fabric. You felt the couch dip under his weight as he settled behind you, feeling the fabric of his haphazardly pulled down pants and the heat of whatever skin that was exposed press into you.

“Sucking yours does.” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side to make contact with your swollen clit. The cool air of his office hitting your soaked center makes you shiver. “You’re gentler than I thought you’d be.”

“Oh baby,” He pauses, taking his hands off of you to maneuver himself around, “you haven’t had the worst yet.”

You’re comfused until you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance and begin to push in. Your walls greedily sucking him in even though it felt as if he was splitting you in two.

“Tight as a fuckin’ virgin, y’gotta open up for me, girl.” His fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Using that to his advantage to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into you until he’s bottomed out. Your hips arching into him as any remnants of pain begin to wash away and are overtaken with white-hot pleasure. His hands find purchase on your hips as his thrusts begin to speed up. Going harder into you and somehow hitting you deeper each time, causing tears to spring in corners of your eyes.

“Already cryin’ on my cock and we’ve barely even started? Slut can’t handle it?” He slaps your ass again, not caring if it stings. You furiously shake your head as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Trying your hardest to match his brutal pace with your own hips. “Oh, you think you can take control now, huh? I’d watch it, little girl.”

At first you think he pushes your face into the couch with his hand. That’s until you realize that both his hands are still on your hips and it’s actually his foot that’s found its place on the back of your head as he continues to fuck the memory of your ex out of you. Your pussy clenching down on him at the mere thought of the position.

“Like being treated like a whore don’t you? Shitty man couldn’t do it like I can.” You couldn’t respond back even if you tried. Too caught up in the feeling of being stuffed full by the most skilled man you’ve ever fucked and biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Writhing under him as the pleasure of his tip repeatedly hitting your spot over and over again was becoming almost too much.

Toji must’ve felt the way your pussy began to tighten around him or how your moans were so loud the couch wasn’t muffling them well anymore. His hand snaked around your hip and back down to your clit to rub shapes on it, bringing your closer to your peak.

“That’s right, cum on this cock baby. Hah- cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” He spoke to you through gritted teeth and the sound went straight to your core. It wasn’t long after that your back slipped into a deeper arch and your cunt clenched down on him even harder. A white ring of cream forming around the base of his dick as he worked you through your orgasm and worked himself closer to his.

“Such a good girl. You’re gonna take my cum, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?” You nodded a quick yes, pussy still quaking from your orgasm. the only thing keeping your hips from collapsing into the couch being the vice grip of his strong hands.

The foot pressed into your head was removed and replaced by his right hand gripping your hair and pulling you up to meet his face. Looking him in the eyes for the first time since he started fucking you and seeing the beast of a man he’s become. Pupils blown, hair messy, and face sweaty as his grunts get louder, more aggressive.

“So pretty baby. You’re my good, pretty girl, right? C’mon, daddy a kiss when he cums. You’ve been so. fucking. good.” The last of his words were punctuated by rough thrusts into your heat. His heavy balls slapping against your clit so hard it was making you jump. You craned your head back even more for your lips to meet his in a sloppy, lust-filled kiss as he lets out a final rough grunt into your mouth. The familiar warmth flooding your pussy as his thrusts begin to let up.

He’s gentle with you for the first time in a while, gently resting your head back down to the couch before slowly pulling his softening dick out, tucking it back into his underwear, and smoothing your skirt back down. Rubbing a hand over the arch of your back and letting you rest on his couch as he pulls off your soiled panties and pockets them for himself. Also noticing a patch of your slick that has soiled the front of his pants and smiling as a mix of both of your releases begin to trickle out of your spent hole. Using two of his fingers to push it back in. The room is quiet for the first time in a long while. Only sound being the oscillating box fan in the corner of the room. It says quiet for a while, until you break the silence.

“Don’t even think I can remember the fucker’s name anymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turn over onto your back to face him, watching closely as he fixes his suit to the best of his ability. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, if you’d like.”

He turns to face you, smirking again, “Can’t say I’d hate that.”

It’s your turn to smirk at him before letting your head roll over and rest again. Consumed with the thoughts of how that was definitely the best revenge plan you ever participated in.

You’re almost drifting off until that same thought wakes you up again. Sitting up to look at Toji.

“Wait, how was any of that a revenge ploy if he didn’t even see it?” Toji smirks, fixing his tie. Not even a second later you hear a knock on his door before Toji gives the visitor permission to enter.

“You wanted to see m-“ Your ex stops mid-sentence once he sees you lounging on his employer’s couch with his cum leaking out of you. “Wait, what is she doing here?”

“Baby brought your shit by.” Toji kicks the box towards him as he pulls your panties out of his back pocket and swinging them around his index finger. “Anything else you need? Or do you just wanna watch me fuck your ex-girl again?”

[miniy00ng1]

Home

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1189

warnings: swearing, lila likes five (ew), lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiiii lovelies! it felt like i wrote more than i actually did, butttt whatever. please ignore any grammar errors and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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He dreams of you every night. Thinks about you during his every waking moment. He longs to see your beautiful face again. To hold you tight in his arms and never let you go.

Your relationship with Five is one he could only dream of having. He met you during the apocalypse. You were severely injured and stuck under rubble but, you were alive when he stumbled across you.  

Five had nursed you back to health and in return you provided him company for what would have been 45 very lonely years. During that time, you and Five had fallen in love and had married.

Since arriving in the new timeline 6 years ago, you and Five had started to build a normal life together, just like Five had wished for. But now he’s found himself stuck in a neverending hellscape with the last person he’d ever want to be stuck with.

Six years had gone by since he last saw you and all of them were agony. Five tried to find a way back to you and vowed he wouldn’t stop trying until you were back in his arms. There were times where he wasn’t sure he would ever see you again and it broke his heart–he would never admit this to anyone.

“I cannot stand to eat another subway rat.” Lila says, scrunching her nose up in disgust. The pair were sat on the floor of the station cooking yet another rodent. “Maybe…we could rest up for a bit at the greenhouse we found the other day? The place wasn’t too bad.” Lila glances at Five with a hopeful look in her eyes. Five ponders the idea, he wouldn’t mind a soft bed to sleep in and definitely wouldn’t miss getting shot at. He nods at Lila, “Only for a couple of days.” 

A few days had turned into weeks which turned into months. And soon enough the pair had been there for three months. The greenhouse and surrounding area had provided a sufficient source of living and was considerably more comfortable than the subway station floor.

Five was watering the strawberries in the greenhouse when he felt something hit his back. He could hear Lila giggle and felt another thud, “Quit it Lila, you’re wasting produce. We’re not going to have enough for the winter if you keep throwing them at me.” Lila continued to toss strawberries as she approached Five, “Oh please, we’ll have plenty and we aren’t staying tha–”

Lila tripped over her feet causing Five to drop his watering can and catch her. The two were face to face, he could feel Lila’s breath and her eyes staring at his lips. He quickly pushed Lila to her feet and distanced himself from her. “Look Lila, I know we’ve been here a long time and you’re not happy with my brother but I love Y/N. And I just want to get back to her.” Five was never the kindest man but in that moment he had hoped he let her down gently.

Lila nodded quickly, tucking her lips as her eyes welled with tears, “No, yeah, I get it. I’m sorry. It’s just–what if we never get home?” Five shook his head, “That’s not happening. I’m never going to stop until I get us home.”

Five left the greenhouse to give Lila some space. In the meantime, he returned to the subway station and decided to take a ride to clear his head. As he sat on the grimey seat he tried to think about how you might try to decipher the station–you were always just as smart as he was, helping solve equations in the apocalypse. You had even told him his calculations were off but he would never listen, he smiled to himself thinking about you.

The train let out a ding signifying he had reached the next stop. As the doors opened he heard the sound of footsteps fading. What the hell? he thought to himself. He shot out of his chair with urgency, following the direction of the footsteps and calling out for the mystery person to stop. 

Five came to a halt, his eyes widening at the bright sign and the warm presence of a restaurant. If he wasn’t confused before, he sure as hell was now. Five neared the door with caution, but as he entered the deli he was awestruck. He was surrounded by himself, some workers and some patrons of the deli.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Come sit with me” A voice called out, his voice, but he wasn’t speaking. He glanced around to see who was calling for him when he saw himself in a booth waving him over. Five approached the table and slid into his seat.

“So you’ve made it.” Booth Five says enthusiastically. Five looks at himself quizzically, raising an eyebrow he asks, “And where exactly are we?” “It’s where we all come when we’ve given up.” “Given up?” Five questions. “I haven’t given up. I need to get home to Y/N.” Murmurs erupt at the sound of your name. Many surrounding Fives sigh or give a sad smile.

“We here don’t have our version of your Y/N anymore. We lost everyone, including her. As soon as we did, majority of us gave up trying to save the world.” Booth Five states, a sad gleam in his eyes. “I’ve saved the world three times already. I don’t plan on doing it again anytime soon. I just want to get home to her. So do me a favor and tell me how to get home.”

Booth Five gives a call out to Waiter Five. Waiter Five brings over a notebook and hands it to Five. As Five inspects the journal, his eyes widen. “Holy shit…it’s a cipher. This is how I get back.” Five immediately gets up. As he leaves Booth Five calls out,

“We’ll see you soon.”

Upon returning to the greenhouse Five starts to gather everything in preparation to make his return home. “Lila!” He calls out, “Lila! Where are you? Get ready to leave, we’re going home!” Lila bursts through the door looking disheveled.

“You–You’re not fucking with me are you? Because if you are, I will kill you.” Five shakes his head and Lila squeals running over to hug Five. “Let’s go home.”

The pair arrives at Diego and Lila’s house. Lila excitedly runs up to the door and throws it open. As she disappears into the house Five begins to approach. As he gets closer, he can hear you giggle as Lila envelops you in a bear hug. 

Lila eventually lets you go and that’s when you notice Five’s presence at the entryway. You make your way over to him with your beautiful smile. You throw your hands around his neck and pull him down slightly as he is a couple inches taller than you. Five snakes his hands around your waist, face in your hair as he breathes you in.

You go to pull away but Five’s grip tightens. You let out a laugh, “Someone must’ve missed me.” “You have no idea” He whispers.

[my-castles-crumbling]

terrify - august 12 - jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 285

"Pa! I have a question!"

Harry's little voice echoes down the hall as he toddles into the kitchen, and Regulus grins as he turns to greet his son, stooping down to his level. "What is it, Haz?" he asks, pressing a kiss into the mop of curls on the three-year-old's head.

"We're out of biscuits," Harry says seriously, like it's a life-ir-death problem, wide eyes making Regulus want to buy him several pounds of biscuits. "The chocolate ones. Can we get some more, please?"

"Of course, chéri, we-" but he pauses as he stands, pondering. Because Harry doesn't like chocolate biscuits. "Harry," he says sternly, again stooping to his son's eye level. "Did you ask for biscuits?"

"I..." Harry seems genuinely confused, and thinks a moment before he shakes his head in the negative. "No. Da did."

"Hmmm. And why couldn't he ask me himself, I wonder?" Regulus asks himself more than Harry, picking the toddler up and heading toward the sitting room where he suspects James is waiting eagerly.

But Harry answers quickly. "Because he eated them all in one day and he says you'd be mad, so I had to ask!"

Regulus lets out a laugh of surprise. "Oh? Do I terrify Da that much?"

"Yep!" Harry giggles hugging his neck. "He said I'm the weak spot!"

"Awww, Haaaaaz!" James yells from down the hall. "Way to rat me out! Now I'll never get more biscuits!"

[niceonejames7]

fighting dogs & crying wolves

remus thinks you're oblivious to his condition despite your bias towards wolves. maybe you love wolves a bit more than he thinks.

part two for dogs or deers? or rats? (both can be read as standalones) (some parts may feel weird, though not anything major)

words: 1.9k

genre: fluff(?), lil bit angst, hurt/comfort, it's all happy ending

warnings: remus has self depreciating thoughts, mention of injuries

a/n: i imagine the end scene (these 1 , 2) very similar to the peter and gwen scene when he's in her bed injured because I'm kinda obsessed

...

Remus was tired today. The moon would greet him soon, their monthly encounter on the way. He has taken a habit of personifying his tormentor. To see the moon as just the moon seemed to torture him more. Your hands were on his face more than he could count. That's how it always is. He had learned quickly enough that you loved through your touches, through your actions. He finds it funny when you worry that they (the boys) don't know how much you love them, it's a silly question anyway, but it pains him to understand how much you love him. This time he doesn't have to personify his torment. 

The lights are harsh on his pages and he looks up to search for the switch, James knows his cue and gets up to change them. Remus smiles and James feels proud, it's a silly thing. 

You're sleeping, well you're trying to sleep, your head on a pillow that's laid over his legs. He had asked you to sleep on his lap, "I don't want to interrupt your reading." you had reasoned. 

Sirius opens the door rather loudly but settles down when he senses the quiet environment, his eyes darting to your sleeping figure.

He grimaces, "Sorry," a loud whisper, which only elicited an amused smile on your face.

Sirius wouldn't dare wake you up, but if he has already done half the damage, he is not giving up the chance of a cuddle.

He slowly climbs on the bed, pushes his head between the space of Remus' and his book and steals a kiss. 

Sirius smiles against his lips and Remus thinks of the moon again. He had been trying to do less of that lately, to cover his moments of happiness with a blanket of moonlight. Poetic, he thinks.

Sirius makes himself comfortable, his hands wrapped around your waist, impatient for you to be near him. You don't open your eyes to see who it is, it's very clear which one your boyfriends it will be.

He buries his face at the crook of your neck and you complain,

"Clingy."

Sirius whines and nuzzles further into his space before extracting himself to confront you,

"No."

You open one of your eyes, a teasing smile on your lips and of course he plants a kiss, how could he not, you looked so lovely in his arms. 

"You know what, why don't you tell me what your favourite animal is. I should know who I'm competing with."

Your eyes are closed again, but the smile on your lips is permanent.

"It's not a dog." you say in a matter-of-factly tone. Sirius rolls his eyes, "What is it then? A cat ?" James says, dramatising his tone when he says the word cat, like it could cause a scandal.

You sigh heavily and cast a mock remorseful look at Sirius, "No matter how many dog themed trinkets you bring me, it won't change my opinion. I'm sorry, okay?"

"And also, no, it isn't a cat. Though I do like them a lot." You truly ponder for a moment about what your favourite animal could be, but your mind comes up blank.

"I don't know honestly, I've never been much of an animal person."

Somehow, that statement feels too personal to Remus. It's silly, he thinks.

Sirius thinks of something, possibly something that Remus wouldn't like.

"What about wolves?"

A fraction of a second passes and a million things cross Remus' mind. He thinks how he's going to kill Sirius, he thinks how tired he is, he thinks how you're going to leave him now, and by proxy James and Sirius too. Because he unfortunately knew they would stick by his side. He thinks how much pain he will cause, just because he's this creature.

"I like wolves. Actually, I really like wolves. Did you know dogs and wolves belong in the same family? They're both canines."

Sirius' smile is too wide, he thinks. He suppresses it a little, enjoying your little ramble.

"I'm aware, darling." he says, his fingers slowly caressing Remus' thighs, a futile comforting gesture. Nothing could calm the erratic beating of his heart. 

"Maybe we can bond over that. We both like wolves, in our own way, and you can forgive me for not liking dogs."

Sirius wanted to take your face and pepper you with kisses. He wanted to laugh at how what you just said is probably true. You both do love a wolf, that is something you two bond over. 

"Do you remember learning about werewolves?" James speaks up after calming himself down for Remus' sake.

"Yeah, pretty cool stuff." You say casually, as much nonchalance as you can muster.

Remus holds back a scoff, "Cool? How is it cool?" 

"I dunno. Seems pretty cool. I'd like to know how it's like" you take a pause, your hands gesturing to explain, a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves, "how it's like to turn into an animal, or something of that sort, you know?"

"You could become an animagus." He says, his voice defensive. He doesn't know why. James casts a look at Remus, his nervous expression barely hidden, as often the case was with him.

"Yeah, but that's elective. I just wonder what it's like." Your voice goes quieter, sensing the tension in the air, you might have an idea on why it's present.

"You don't think it's strange?" His words are tentative, testing the waters.

"I'm sure it is. I don't understand why we have to be mean about it. Just seems like baseless prejudice." you're facing him now, a bit worried at his words. Your eyes searched his face, though he couldn't figure out what you wanted to find.

"They're pretty dangerous."

"Anyone can be dangerous, Rem. If they want to be. And wouldn't it unfair to cast someone as dangerous over something they can't control?" you ask. rhetorically, shaking your head as you get up to kiss him goodnight, another one to James before covering your face with your blanket, cozying yourself into Sirius. His gaze is still insistent on Remus. 

Remus' hands reach your head and he runs his long fingers through your hair, a slight hint of a smile present on his lips.

..

This would be one of the worst times Remus' would look back on. These past few months had become so easy, with his pack, his friends by his side, taming down the wolf. But he had been too much in his head this time. Not aware of his surroundings, his thoughts covered by you. 

He had gotten too far and Padfoot or Prongs couldn't reach him anymore, James had told him.

His scars were too visible, again. His eyelids felt heavy with pain. Madam Pomfrey had been generous with her potions, doing everything in her favor to heal him. It had worked, his scars had faded, not entirely gone, but they weren't so ugly anymore. They're not ugly Rem, your voice echoed in his mind. He smiles despite himself. These sentences had become sort of like automatic responses in his mind, James, Sirius and your words, one after the other to counter his misery.

It was early morning, and today there had been plans to go to Hogsmeade. Sirius had promised he would take care of the situation. Remus' always felt guilty when they would cover up his lies. But today was too much of an exhausting day to worry.

Maybe he'll tell you tomorrow, or later. Or you would be gone before he has a chance. Maybe that's the best option, he thinks, the last thing on his mind as he drifts to sleep. 

… 

He's awoken to a soft touch on his cheek, he dreads opening his eyes. Pomfrey is going to have to bandage him up this time, the wounds are too severe. He winces the second his muscles have to move,

"Oh no, I'm so sorry." His eyes fly open, his ears alert to the familiar voice.

"Shh, lay down." You push his shoulder gently to the bed, and hold up a bag, 

"I was already in Hogsmeade. Thought I'd bring over your favourites."

A bag full of chocolates. Remus smiles weakly even though his entire being is filled with fear. His eyes are watching every move of yours, how your fingers twitch when they're near him. If he didn't know you, he would misinterpret it as disgust, or annoyance, but he knew better. 

"But first, we have to dress you up." You say softly, your eyes smiling at him. It always felt like that, whenever you looked at him.

Your hands were tentative, too careful and gentle than needed. He was used to it, the pain. But he didn't say anything, just watched you figure it out, welcoming the gentle approach. 

As your hands apply the balm to his wounds, he audibly winces, which causes you to wince and pull your hands back. You look at him sorrowfully, "Did I hurt you too much?" He shakes his head no. He would have laughed at your question some other time, Not more than me, dove. That is, if he wasn't terrified. 

"You know," your voice is quiet, just above a whisper, "I'd really like to know what kind of dog you've been fighting, just about every month." your eyes flicker, a knowing sadness enveloping them. 

His eyes sombered. A wave of guilt and sadness covered them, a slight frown on his forehead, but his eyes never left yours.

She knows, Remus realises.

He doesn't know why he assumed you wouldn't. You're smart, perceptive, kind. He should have known why you didn't question their monthly disappearances. He should have known why your touches were more frequent around the full moons. 

He always brushed it off. Hopeful thinking. It must be a coincidence. He had hoped too much, too illogically. He had indulged his wishful thinking in hopes of not having to confront you, he supposed that is his fault.

He found himself more guilty of the fact that he had hid something from you, rather than you knowing the truth.

It was a surprising realisation, yet also not. 

He should have known, really. He should have told you himself. 

His hands raise to hold the side of your face, his touch a bit too harsh as he pulls you closer, his hands less in his control. His thumbs run across your damp cheeks, tears he had just noticed.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, his words a bit wobbly, unsure of his own voice. Your forehead rests against his, and you tilt your head to kiss him. He hesitated, just for a second, but pulled you back in when you tried to distance yourself.

The air is heavy with tension and unspoken revelations, "I don't care about your dog fights, Remus. You should know that."

Remus is grateful for the metaphor James had coined. He didn't know if he could handle the direct words, the intensity of the truth. He'll tell you every single detail, as long as it takes, as much as it scared him, or hurt him. Maybe he'll tell you tonight, or tomorrow, or maybe the day after. It doesn't really matter anyway. 

"And no more hiding in hospital when it hurts you too much." 

He nodded, repressing a smile at the dog metaphor.

"I'm beginning to think this dog and I are in an abusive relationship."

You laugh, and he's glad to hear the sound, his own mouth mimicking yours.

"I'll fight all your dogs, baby." You brush away his hair from his forehead to see him better, a small scar hidden by his hair revealing itself.

"I don't think Sirius will appreciate that."

You roll your eyes, "Who cares what he thinks."

"Oh, you have so much you don't know."

"What else is there to know?" You look at him questioningly. 

Remus chuckles and pulls you in to kiss you again,

"You will get all your answers, dove. I promise."

"But-"

"There are some things that that pretty little head of yours can't figure out."

"Huh-" You don't get to say much, because he shuts you up, his smiling lips on yours. 

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, for Starters: Book Of Bill Spoilers warning. Another opinion from me below. This new one is about the lost journal pages again, of course.

Originally, I wanted to make a super big crazy essay about all the reasons I think the journal pages in BOB (The Book of Bill’s given name) are fake, and show off my super-cool totally completely sound deductive reasoning techniques in the process.  

Unfortunately, knowing myself I’m not sure I’m actually capable of accomplishing such a feat. You all know how I tend to post things in parts, sometimes out of order, often never finished. However I would like to share something in particular that’s been eating at me that I’ve seen… partially discussed, but only partially. And certainly not the part that I would like to discuss. 

It’s about the rats.

You know, the rats.

I saw these rats being talked about since before I was even able to have a look at the book myself. 

But before I get further into it all, I would like to start off with a joke: 

Why did dead rats, eggnog, a land orca, shrimp colors, It’s a Small World After All, and an Anti-Cipherite Suit cross the road? 

Well, that’s easy. To get to the other side. 

Of the book, that is. 

If you’re anything like me, you probably skipped right to the journal pages upon contact with the book. And if you’re even MORE like me, you were probably left a little confounded by them. Not only did they seem… wrong somehow. But they also felt random. Full of odd choices of subject that didn’t make a lot of sense. Could these pages really have come from journal 3? If so, why do parts of them feel so… completely out of context? 

And this is where the rats come in. As I mentioned before, I saw many people discussing them. In particular, they were noting a connection to this passage from earlier in the book:

Many of the related discussions also felt odd to me. Though I lacked the knowledge to be able to articulate why at the time. UNTIL, I read the book for myself from start to finish. That's when I realized something:  This is not the only time something from earlier in the book connects back to the journal pages. In fact, it happens many, many times throughout the earlier passages. (Here is a small collection of them for your perusal.)

And then it started clicking into place. The reasons the pages felt like they were so abnormally out of context… is because they WERE lacking context!

Now, before you can finish saying “Gin, you’re an idiot.” I would like you to ponder these three questions: 

1) Why, if these pages were taken from Journal 3, should they require context from outside of it to be able to be completely understood?

2) Why is it that this context can be found in what Bill Cipher has been writing in the preceding passages up till now? 

3) If you put food in a mogwai’s mouth at midnight EST but drive it over the CST time zone line back to 11PM before it can swallow, will it still transform into a gremlin? 

Okay, you caught me, that third one is unrelated. But the first two I believe require further thinking. So let’s delve a little further into the idea. Consider this the real third question: 

3) Are we to seriously believe that these, the only pages of J3 still lost to us, just so happen to tie into the new topics from the rest of the Book of Bill over and over like this?  

And since you’ve done so well thinking thus far, I’ll ask a fourth question: 

4) Are you aware of the concepts of Watsonian and Doyalist analysis? 

Assuming you don’t and you won’t google it, I’ll skip to the important part. Watsonian analysis is to analyze a story from within it, as if you yourself were Watson making deductions in a Sherlock Holmes novel.  

Now, from a Watsonian point of view, what happens when we try to answer our earlier questions? Why should it be that the Book of Bill provides so many of these points of reference to the journal pages? 

One possible line of thought could be that Bill wrote the earlier passages of his book *around* the idea of what was contained in the pages, but I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. For one thing, the purpose of the book is to get the reader to make a deal, not to take a whole novel to set the stage for a 3 day mini Ford adventure. For another, not all of what I described prior is really fit to be called “context”, is it? The rats, the “Small World” cassette, and the Bill-Suit are one thing, but Eggnog? Shrimp colors? Land Orcas? I certainly wouldn’t define them that way. If anything, they’d be better suited to being called “references”. And unlike the more contextual ideas, there’d be no real need for Bill to sneak mere references to the pages into his grand story.  And lastly, there are a great deal of Bill pages that have nothing to do with the content in the journal pages at all.

So what exactly am I trying to say here? 

If we do intend to think of the callbacks outlined above as references, the only logical conclusion within the story is that the journal pages themselves are referencing back to the Book of Bill, not the other way around.

But… how? And why? Something Ford has written in the 80’s shouldn't be able to reference something Bill is writing post-weirdmageddon certainly. 

That’s because “Ford” isn’t referencing it at all!

And as for why… Well, have you ever noticed when you're writing a story on the fly, things you wrote earlier all come crashing back to you as you try to wrap things up? I believe personally that the journal pages are not pages actually written by Ford, but more a strange endcap on Bill’s crazy train of thought! That Bill is the one writing them, and the "references" are just fuel that further the pages creation. Almost as if, to quote someone much more knowledgeable than me on this subject…

(This single paragraph has been inserted a good deal after the original writing of this post.) I would like to clarify, I am not trying to claim the ideas presented in the pages have no basis in reality whatsoever. Ultimately, what I'm saying is I think Bill wrote them, and they should be taken with suspicion instead of as complete fact. "Did this event happen exactly this way?", "Does some of this feel distorted?", "Did this part even happen at all?" I think those are questions worth examining with the events detailed on these pages.

In the end, all I've described above (as well as other aspects of the pages I've not mentioned here) leave me with the impression the pages are not real.

As I stated only a bit earlier, the idea that these pages, the only pages of J3 purported to be lost, should be so connected to the rest of the book is beyond coincidence to me. Not to mention that in order to take these pages as total truth, you must give credence to several other passages of Bill's book as well. And I'm not too keen on having to trust him that much.

To all who have read this far, even to those who may have scoffed at the ideas in here or think I've only written up nonsense. Thank you for reading and considering my thoughts.

I am not saying anyone must agree with me on this. I know some people have found the pages to be important and meaningful to them, and I do not wish to give the impression that I think my view is the end all be all correct one, or that I think lesser of those who believe them to be Ford's own writings. I only want to share my own thoughts on them. And to anyone else who found the pages to feel "off" somehow, possibly validate their feelings too.

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅺ▬ ⁽ 𝓋𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒⁾ ¹

part two

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : slightly edited, talk of past sexual assault ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts! it’s giving very much manhwa vibes!

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : your elder half-sister is to be married to the mysterious and supposed tyrannical duke kallisto de ardelean, on word of the emperor. with your sister no longer having her chastity and being scared to lose his daughter, your father, marquis bastian, and your elder half-brother, tommen devise a plan to send you in her stead.

꒰m!vampire₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

 the sound of cutlery grating against one another makes anxiety coil taut within your belly, the emotion mischievously swimming its way upwards to form a burning mordant taste within the base of your throat; bile threatening to ascend and expel from your mouth. your nerves are strung tight like a bow, bending, pulling, hurting- waiting to be disentangled from its stretch; but to no avail. the persistent, uneasy ache pulsing through your veins causes your head to throb and pound uncomfortably - the onset of a migraine looming.

    the clinking of silverware becomes a symphony of discomfort, each scrape, and clatter adding to the cacophony that fills the room. it becomes increasingly difficult to focus on anything else, as the unease consumes your thoughts and senses. the atmosphere feels suffocating, as if the tension in the air is tangible.

  you find yourself longing for a moment of respite, a break from the relentless discomfort. but it eludes you, leaving you trapped in this sea of unease. the storm within you rages on, its intensity growing with each passing second.

      'when will this be over?' you muse sourly, stumbling to hold in a huff of frustration and discomfort; the stinging, scalding gazes of your siblings and attendants are alight with contempt and taunting humor- directed at you. the sensation sends a chill skittering down your backbone, a chill so frigid that goosebumps begin to blanket your skin like a fresh layer of december frost; intricate and icy.

  as you sit there, the weight of their judgment bears down on you, pressing against your chest and making it difficult to breathe. the room seemed to close around you, the walls closing in like a vise, trapping you in a suffocating bubble of scrutiny. the air is heavy with tension, each second ticking by like an eternity, as if time itself had slowed down to magnify your discomfort.

    and you find that removing your eyes from the bowl of lukewarm soup in front of you to meet their disdainful faces, was nigh impossible. unthinkable. so instead you remain fixated on the porcelain dish, undisturbed by the tiny grains of sand scattered at the bottom, swirling lazily in the stew.

 'this again?' you ponder silently, before being startled by the tinkling laughter that fills the room.

     for a fleeting moment, your gaze flickers upward to scan the dining hall at the soft, girlish snickering; finding the venomous eyes of your elder sister staring right back at you. your glossy eyes quickly find solace in the sandy, savory depths of the bowl of soup below you once more. your fingers weaving jointly underneath the table, nails turning pale as the vice grip of your extremities coil, trying to strangle one another. you felt like a rat trapped within a burning bucket with nowhere to go, fated to die-but how badly you wanted to gnaw your way out to freedom.

 "oh my, dear sister, you've hardly touched your food."

  your back molars clench against the tender flesh of your cheek at the attention, your body cowering back into the delicate velvet chair underneath you, praying to be devoured whole. with trembling hands, you nervously rub your dewy palms against the faded blue fabric of your dress, causing it to darken with the touch of moisture. it was as if your very nerves had been set ablaze as you could now feel the disconcerting stare of your father branding the side of your cheek.

your soft but prevalent ebbeton accent cuts through the tense atmosphere like a sharpened blade, the gazes of the room bleeding into your skin.

    "i find myself lacking an appetite this evening," you emit softly, offering a forced smile to your elder sister in an attempt to pacify her. you’re not surprised when aerith’s thin upper lip curls into a snarl, downturned eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing. anything that you did; that defied her orders, usually triggered aerith to taunt and beat you. there was no winning when it came to the girl, you had figured that out when you were just a child.

     not expecting your reply, aerith’s narrow upper lip curls into a vexed snarl, downturned eyes tightening and eyebrows drawing near to each other. 'who the hell does she think she is?' a forced, cruel smile encases aerith’s mouth, golden spirals of silken hair dancing over her shoulders as she slants her head in an opposing manner. the blonde is only aggravated further at your curt, almost blank expression. "it'd be a waste for you to not at least take a bite, don't you think?"

  she leaned in closer, her eyes boring into yours, daring you to defy her. the room seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere heavy with tension. aerith knew that she had the upper hand, that she had the ability to make your already hellish life, worse. and she reveled in it. the power she possessed, the control she exerted over others, was intoxicating. she was not one to be underestimated, and she made sure you knew it.

    the intense thrumming of your fearful heart reverberates throughout your body, anxiety substituting the boiling blood surging through your veins. you swallow the orb of tension that's wedged its way into your throat and dig your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, a flimsy smile painted onto your lips. "i simply do not feel hungry tonight, sister," you reply calmly, though your heart pounds in your ears. "surely that is not a crime."

    your sister's eyes narrow, her fury evident in the furrowed lines on her forehead. you can almost taste the outrage, mingling with the metallic tang of fear on your tongue.

"(y/n)."

    you flinch back into your seat at the boisterous sound of your father's voice, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow, shakily you pick up the rickety spoon, a far cry from the elegant silverware adorning the table. with trembling hands, you cautiously dip the spoon into the soup, the loose pieces of sand giggling at your misery. slowly the spoon ascends to your lips- before three sharp knocks echo throughout the dining hall. every malicious, joyously cruel gaze, flits to the door. your father, never one to be unnerved, dabs at his lips with his napkin and clears his throat. "enter."

    the heavy oak doors are gradually pulled open by two knights who stand guard at opposing ends. the assailant quickly waltzes into the room, his face, pale and drawn, betrays the weight of his duty. beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, glistening like tiny diamonds in the candlelight. his disheveled attire, once pristine and regal, now hangs loosely on his frame, evidence of the tumultuous journey he has endured to reach this moment. settled upon his spindly hand is a slender silver tray, which carries a letter.

“-and what is the cause for you interrupting the household dinner, boy? "

  the man choked back a shuddering breath and with a graceful yet urgent stride, he approaches the grand mahogany table at the center of the room, halting just in front of your father, lowering into a ninety-degree bow and thrusting the salver forward.

     "a letter from the imperial palace..." the boy's tentative voice trails off for a moment, hesitant to declare the rest of the announcement. your father observed the scene with a stoic expression, his piercing gaze fixed upon the man before him, before he rolls his eyes, picking up his utensils once more. "well? out with it then.”

“- it's closed with the emperor's seal, my lord.”

    all respire within the room seemed to come to a standstill, the birds did not dare to chirp and the wind was not brave enough to howl. the silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of your father's labored breaths. as the seconds ticked by, the room seems to hold its breath, waiting for marquis bastian to break the silence. finally, your father gently places his utensils aside and swiftly grasps the letter, his fingers trembling with a mixture of anticipation and unease. clearly, some things could unnerve marquis bastian, you thought, as you surreptitiously returned the spoon to its rightful place upon the table.

     popping the seal, your father glides the letter from the envelope delicately, unfurling the piece of paper to allow his eyes to glaze over the contents. yet, with each passing second his eyelids draw back to showcase the whites of his eyes, his fingers digging into the paper with a mix of shock, disbelief, or perhaps even anger. you can't quite discern his emotions. your father, marquis bastian, was a man known for his unwavering composure and unshakeable resolve. his presence alone commanded respect and admiration, and it was a rare sight indeed to witness him unsettled.

   his usually stoic face contorted with a myriad of emotions, his brows furrowing and his lips trembling ever so slightly. the room seemed to grow colder, as if the air itself was affected by his sudden unease. you watched in silence, your heart pounding in your chest, as your father's grip on the letter tightened, his knuckles turning white. the seconds stretched into minutes, and still, your father remained frozen in his chair, his eyes fixed on the damning words before him. 

   tommen, your eldest brother, swallows thickly at father's silence, the hairs on the back of his neck at attention and his leg bouncing nervously underneath the table. "father, what ails you?" marquis bastian was distraught, so much so in fact, that he ran a wrinkling hand down his face, head falling into his open palm. the patriarch of the house clears his throat and sets the paper back onto the tray.

"a-aerith. your engagement has been decided by the emperor."

    tommen's heart sinks at his father's words. your elder sister, forever the oblivious blonde; and incapable of reading the room, beams happily and clasps her hands together, head tilting to the side with a whimsical, distant gaze in her eyes. "oh! who is it, daddy? a duke? a marquis?—" the girl trails off with a gasp and places a soft, small hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. "could it be the prince?! oh, daddy, say something! who is it?!"

tommen's eyes follow his father's every movement, his own anxiety growing with each passing second. he watches as his father clears his throat, a sign of his struggle to find the right words. your father, still in dismay, doesn't even attempt to soothe aerith as he breaks the news to her, his gaze empty, like a vast, swarthy sea of water without end.

"duke kallisto de ardelean."

 you watch in confusion as her smile slowly fades, her pretty, sparkling jade eyes seem to dull, the vibrant hue that once adorned her rosy cheeks now fades away, leaving behind a pallid complexion that betrays the absence of her usual vivacity.

   the blonde's daze is shattered in an instant as she forcefully pushes herself away from the table, her hands crashing down on the sturdy oak surface, her nails leaving marks. "no! i won't do it, you cannot make me!" your father's lips are set into a thin line and despite aerith looking to him for answers, for hope that only his words can bring, his expression is unreadable; and for a moment, something dark and enraged unfurls within the blonde's stomach, threatening to consume her.

"daddy? say something!"

tommen, always the mediator, attempts to smooth over the situation. "aerith, sit, let father think for a moment— hm?" your eldest brother can't help but add an encouraging whirr at the end of his demand after seeing his sister's frightened gaze; a sight that tugs at his heart agonizingly. aerith reluctantly tumbles into her chair, reddened cheeks cushioned by clammy palms; her nails digging into her scalp worriedly.  "brother, do something."

tommen's jaw ticked in annoyance- frustration. there was no way aerith would survive at duke ardelean's home, particularly because of her licentious behavior and absence of subordination. with aerith's lack of chastity, she was nothing but used, damaged goods— not even a puppet to be utilized. ( she would've been better off marrying a count, someone she could manipulate and break faith with. ) sending her off to kallisto would do nothing but insult the ardelean household and bring disgrace to their family for generations to come. 

    tommen's love for his sister was undeniable, and he couldn't bear to see her endure humiliation or worse. he refused to stand idly by and witness the downfall of his family, the destruction of everything they had worked so hard to build.

   slight motion from his peripheral causes tommen's head to turn slightly in its direction, catching sight of your dingy garments and absence of etiquette. ‘ah, the bastard.' he thought to himself. watching as your back straightens immediately when his viridian-colored gaze flits to your slouched figure. there is a bottomless sea of revulsion whirling like a hurricane within its depths and you grip your right arm tightly, nails digging into your flesh; scarring it with crescent moons, a desperate attempt to maintain composure, to keep yourself afloat in the face of his disdain.

    but despite your best efforts- you seemed to drown. the contempt in tommen's eyes remained unwavering. his judgment was etched into his features, a constant reminder of the vast chasm that separated you. in that moment, you were acutely aware of your place in his world, forever relegated to the outskirts, forever branded as the outsider.

"father, if I may?"

   marquis bastian looks toward his son, lips thinned and face weary. he was without a doubt, lost on what to do the thought of losing his little girl to such a man, made his stomach churn and ache.

tommen drags his gaze away from you and locks eyes with marquis bastian; he's tentative, uncertain if the solution that he's come to would assuage his father. but, he takes a deep breath and explains.

   "aerith has been out of high society for years now, after the incident with count aslan's daughter, and there were only a few witnesses at the happening.” tommen begins gradually, making sure that his father is mindful of every little detail. "truly-she's not even talked about within social circles anymore."

   your father grunts in agreement, shooting a scalding gaze at his immature (but loveable) daughter at the reminder of the mishap. the blonde's pout deepens and she crosses her arms over her chest in childish defiance.

   “duke kallisto has never gone to any social gatherings before and he's been away at the northern border for about the same period, perhaps even longer, with his eldest son joining him only a couple of months ago. he would have no idea who aerith is." marquis bastian's eyebrows furrow deeply, producing wrinkles in-between his thick, graying brows.

    tommen watches as the cogs turns in his father's head. “'it's official only on paper and since duke kallisto has never come to any social setting and no one knows what he looks like, i doubt there will be a public wedding, especially since he's currently at the northern border leading the knights."

marquis bastian's eyes widen and he finds his son's viridian gaze. “are you saying—” tommen nods quickly, leaning back in his seat. “if we send the bastard, they'd be none the wiser."

all eyes narrow on you, calculating and cold, it raises goosebumps on your skin, hinders your breath, and makes you break out in a cold sweat. 

    a small voice inside you yearned to protest, to expose the sheer madness of their 'scheme', warning that it would only lead to the gruesome demise of the entire family for treason. but, what right did you have to speak? you were nothing but a bastard, a child conceived out of unwilling sex, brought into this world by a maid who was promptly cast aside the moment you took your first breath.

   you were raised in the shadows, hidden away from the prying eyes of society, forced to serve the family that had abandoned you. your existence was a constant reminder of their shame, a living testament to their sins. and yet, despite the cruelty and neglect you endured, a flicker of defiance burned within you. but fear held you back. fear of retribution, of being cast out into the cold, unforgiving world. fear of the unknown, of what lay beyond the walls of the only home you had ever known.

you were a mere puppet, a marionette manipulated by the hands of those who saw you as nothing more than a means to an end. your existence was reduced to a tool, easily discarded when it no longer served its purpose. it was a fitting fate, since commoner blood surged through your veins. you were forever destined to be overlooked and discarded.

     lips thinning you watch as your fathers face flushes with the color he lost while reading the letter, no longer tense as he nods his head in agreement with tommen. he lets out a deep hum before locking eyes with his son. “that might just work.” marquis bastian absently strokes his beard before giving a decisive nod. “we’ll have to start the process quickly. with how she is now…” he trails off prompting you to hastily blink back the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. 

 “hajorld, send a letter to madame kilsby.” 

  all eyes fix upon aerith as she emits a disbelieving whimper. “daddy! that’s not fair, you promised that madame kilsby would teach me! you swore,”  her voice, sharp and grating, causes marquis bastian’s face to pinch into one of anger. “had you not spread your legs like some common whore, aerith, i would not be forced to take this action."

  aerith's heart sank at her father's accusing words. she had been looking forward to learning from madame kilsby for months, only to have her hopes dashed in an instant. the disappointment was palpable in the air as she struggled to hold back tears, her rose-tinted lips pressing together as she slumps back in her seat. your father sighs deeply and picks back up his cutlery. “may the gods have mercy on us."

"chin up!"

    you wince softly at the abrupt pain that blooms bitterly across your calf, the skin puckering and swollen from the harsh, periodic whipping of madame kilsby. stiffly your chin lifts upwards. the heavy books that make a home on the top of your head for the time being, quiver- as if they are walking bare within the frigid december air; waiting to topple. 

     her aging hand presses deftly into your lower back, fixing your posture once more with a soft hum, assessing, watching. she observes as you prance forward, wobbly within your heels but nonetheless ideal, given the time frame in which your lessons had begun.

"to me."

   as gracefully as you can, you turn to face madame kilsby in all her beautiful glory and for the second time this lesson, your breath catches briefly in your throat. you gaze at her shamelessly, taking in her red tresses, which like a dancing flame, curl atop her head; her green eyes, the color of luscious green forests, are deep, enchanting, and dangerous.

    the smell of her perfume is sweet (but not too much so) and floral, with just a whiff of spice she is a woman to behold, and you do so often. with a barely-there breath, you walk back towards her, feet aching within the shoes given to you. if your form is off, it doesn't show on her face. you come to a stop in front of madame kilsby and she locks gazes with you, the corners of her mouth curl up, she's pleased— it makes her all the more inviting.

"good y/n, i'm impressed."

  an apprehensive smile caresses your lips, brightening your typical apathetic beauty, and madame kilsby, finds you charming even more so. the older woman clears her throat softly and gently removes the hefty books from the top of your head, setting them onto the table next to her with a thump.etiquette and most other teachings usually are taught to children at a young age; that way it evolves almost into a second nature for them. since you were born out of wedlock and worst of all to a maid, a woman of no noble origin- you had been cast aside, as there was no need for a bastard to learn anything.

     madame kilsby had been reluctant to teach you, the first couple of days you could perceive her ridicule, her apprehension. yet, just as quickly as it came, it went, the hostility, the backhanded compliments, every scornful thing she had done while teaching you the first three days, seemed irrelevant. 

  you, she concluded, are her most promising student. you heed her words, obey, and watch diligently. you emulate, take, and evolve her teachings to fit your technique. your unwavering, confident blank gaze and features add to the feminine, mysterious ambiance that seems to encompass you. seeing you take shape had been breathtaking for madame kilsby. 

     she had never seen such rapid progress in a student before, especially one who had been deemed unworthy of her teachings. your determination and quick wit impressed her, and she found herself looking forward to each lesson with you.

   "there is nothing left for me to teach you now. as you've soaked up every bit of knowledge that i could provide. and beautifully so." the curvature of your lips pull downward, and madame kilsby watches as your features return back to their typical apathetic look.

'i have two days left before being shipped off to duke ardelean's home.’ you think sourly,briefly escaping your anxious musings to offer a distracted smile towards madame kilsby. "thank you, truly."

     the woman inclines her head and gently rests a hand upon your cheek. "let me know if there's anything i can do for you, child, if it's within my power to do so, it will be done."

   'would it be wrong to ask her to stab me with a knife? probably.' and just like that, in two days, you would be shipped off to your death.

two days later

  the ride to the ardelean estate is hell on wheels, you believe. your body is sore from your unduly tense posture, and your bum aches continually at every hobble and wobble of the carriage, it doesn't help that the corset that you had been forced into (and not delicately either) makes it all the harder to draw breath. 

  the carriage had been riding all day to get to the estate on time, a staggering eleven-hour ride- where you most definitely couldn't get any rest even if you had tried. it feels like an eternity before the carriage pulls to a stop. 

"my lady, we're here." 

    your nerves are scorched, set ablaze with fear and unease and it engulfs your body in a flame so searing that you find yourself airing your face. the door opens slowly and you swallow down the squeal of dread that tries to claw its way out of your throat, you place your hands comfortably on your lap, back straightening despite the sting of pain it brings and face blanking.

    a large palm facing upwards comes into your peripheral and you place your own gloved hand into it, stepping out of the carriage door, on a stepping stool, and finally onto the gravel. your eyes adjust to the brightness of outside before the estate comes into focus, and it's enormous, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it. the structure is beautiful in its own haunted way.

   "welcome to the ardelean estate, lady fureio." 

    the monotonous chorus of voices surprises you, your body jolting softly, it leaves your heart to thump laboriously in your chest; eyes finally narrowing in on the attendants of the estate, the head maid and butler stand front and center, eyes cordial and seemingly all-knowing. 

   your smile is small, reluctant— yet warm nonetheless, you tip your head downwards in greeting, swallowing thickly, palms beginning to moisten and skin warming at your nervousness. "thank you." 

  a smile brightens the head maids face, her plump but sagging cheeks flushing a soft, lovely hue of red. "my name is esmerelda, i will escort you inside my lady, to get you settled in." she watches with rapt attention as you exhale shakily, nodding, "that would be great esmerelda, thank you."

   her countenance swiftly adopts a stern expression as she directs her attention to the two knights positioned behind her. if they have a problem with carrying your luggage, it remains imperceptible upon their visage. without hesitation, they proceed to retrieve your possessions from the rear of the carriage and carefully carry them into the grand estate ahead, their armor clanking softly with each step.

   you don't own many thing, only a few dresses (which weren't much to look at) a singular pair of worn shoes, and a couple of hairpieces that were fraying at their ends. while marquis bastian had paid for your etiquette lessons and other teachings— he was adamant about not spending much else after that. which was quite foolish of him now that you thought back to it.

    the woman watches them intently, her eyes sharp. as the knights disappear into the castle, the woman turns back to you with a slight nod of approval. "they will ensure your belongings are safely stored in your chambers," she says, her voice firm but not unkind. 

   you offer a gentle smile and a slight nod, gracefully aligning yourself with her stride as she beckons you to accompany her into the estate. she trails in front of you slightly, as you two walk past the maids stationed outside for your welcoming. 

 "where is the little lord?"

 "i couldn't find him this morning."

 "young master calix skipped sword training as well."

 esmerelda's stern gaze quickly has them hushed, their chins tucking against their chests pitifully, your lips purse softly as you comb through your head for lost details on the ardelean household, following slowly behind esmerelda.

    kallisto de ardelean is a father to three boys, the eldest son: azur, who recently turned seventeen, joined kallisto a couple of months back at the frontier to help with the north's demon subjugation. he, along with kallisto, wouldn't be home for a while.

   atreyu, kallisto's fifteen-year-old middle child is learning at the academy and finishing up his second year. and because winter is coming, atreyu's company would be expected in a couple of weeks from now.

    you pause momentarily in your thoughts. not much is known about kallosto's last son, as he is too young to participate in any social gatherings, and too young for the academy, not even his name is known, well, you supposed now that you knew it. 

calix de ardelean.

 "it's been a long ride has it not? shall i have a bath drawn for you?"

    you were exhausted, eyes laden, and breath slightly shallow from the ill-fitting corset that adorned your figure. you wanted to sleep, needed it even; yet the prospect of a warm bath followed by donning a comfortable nightgown seemed even more appealing.

   “that’d be perfect esmerelda, thank you.” you can hear the smile in her voice as she responds back to you. “of course, my lady.” 

     the two of you make your way through a corridor after a long trek up a flight of stairs, it’s adorned with paintings. they're eerie yet exquisite; gloomy and desolate. the paintings seem to come alive as you walk past them, their eyes following your every move. the brushstrokes are so vivid and lifelike that you can almost feel the emotions emanating from the canvas. it's as if the artists poured their souls into each piece, leaving a lingering presence that sends shivers down your spine. the colors are so vibrant and the details so intricate that it's hard to believe they were created by mere human hands. 

   however, one catches your gaze, steals your breath away even—  as if time stands still as you lock eyes with the portrait.

“who is he?” 

   your mouth opens before you can dissuade yourself and esmerelda turns to face you, watching as you shamelessly gaze deeply at the painting, lips parted and almost breathless. you're not sure how the painter is able to capture the aura that surrounds the man perfectly— but they do and it's monarchial... terrifying. 

    his tresses are long and ebony; framing his face delicately, his lips are ruby in color- inviting; and his skin is pale as porcelain. the man's eyes are the color of freshly spilled blood, they gleam with an all-knowingness that warms your skin and strips you bare. you find it almost impossible to drag your gaze away from the painting, he's quite literally the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

  "that is duke kallisto, my lady." 

   you whip around to face her, eyebrows furrowing and heart thumping desperately within your chest, nearly pounding out of your ribcage, your ebbeton accent thickens as you speak, a look of clear disbelief in your eyes. "truly?" when she nods in confirmation you step forward and touch the portraits golden frame, trailing your fingers lower to trace over the cursive letters of duke kallisto's name. realizing how peculiar you must look, you quickly pull your hand to your chest; face warming in embarrassment.

 “shall we get going?”

ardelean estate

        the next day

calix de ardelean was a curious child. 

 his transgressions usually got him into trouble with his father more times than headmaid esmerelda had been able to count on both hands— though, that never truthfully seemed to stop calix, not for long anyway, especially since kallisto is reminded often of his late wife whenever he sees that playful glint within calix's ruby-red eyes, and folds almost immediately.     

     sometimes calix's childlike antics were simply disregarded by kallisto because the boy was just a child. a child who had never gotten to meet his mother, a child who lacked the maternal love that his elder siblings grew up with. kallisto could not be irate with his baby boy, no matter what he did.

   so it’s not surprising that calix is currently skipping sword practice. not that he despised it in any way, truly it was his favorite thing as it helped past time as he waited for his father to come back from the northern borders. 

  he hadn't been told about the marriage, only deduced it after catching wind of the rumors from the maids. he was curious, perhaps even a bit scared, he didn't like change. he would chase her out no matter what, before his father could come home. 

  now, to search for the woman who infiltrated his h- 

"ahem, young master calix- enough of these childish games."

     the boy jumps, startled by sir. fjord's deep timbre. without a word, calix quickly takes off down the hallway with a bellowing, tinkering laugh. his cheeks are flushed the cutest shade of red and his obsidian hair is ruffled at the top of his head. 

     glancing over his shoulder to look for the man, calix rounds a corner and immediately bumps into a soft, thick fabric, that sends him crashing butt-first to the carpeted flooring, hands burning. the boy whines softly and pouts, gazing up and up until he locks eyes with a woman. 

pretty. 

   with a worried frown, the woman lowers down in front of him, she smells of honey sickle and sugared lavender and it has warmth unfurling languidly within his tummy, turning him to mush underneath her soft, amused gaze.      

     "you must be calix." he nods slowly, unable to look away from her observant- filled eyes, she smiles brightly, it's welcoming and genuine. "my name is aerith fureio." 

    her fuller lips pull downward as she notices the redness that envelopes calix's hand, she reaches forward to grasp his wrist softly, angling it so that his palm faces upwards to her gaze, a nervous gasp expels from calix's lips, he's surprised to feel that ‘aerith's’ hands are slightly calloused. though from azur's teachings, a woman of noble birth never does domestic work, that's what maids are for. 

    it was difficult for women to comprehend how to wield a sword and so they weren't taught to do so. instead, they lived a life where they needn't lift a pinky. 

  so why were such warm and delicate hands, bruised as if she'd been working? 

    "you'll need some ointment for your palms." aerith glances over her shoulder to a maid who stands nearby with widened eyes. "lily, could you please?" 

    calix glances at the maid whom he hadn't noticed, too caught up in the woman in front of him. he glared at her viciously, watching as she scampered away with a small squeal. "yes, my lady!" 

   calix quickly snatches his hand from the woman and clutches it to his chest, round eyes scowling at her. 'aerith' chuckles soft and low, resting her elbow against her thigh and laying her cheek on her palm— gazing at the boy. he shuffles backwards away from her.

     "you're that lady that moved in yesterday, huh?" his gaze is sharp and unwelcoming but the woman in front of him seems to brighten at the sound of his sweet voice. she inclines her head in affirmation, it's surprisingly elegant in calix's eyes. "i am."

   it's a simple answer, not one he's expecting but it makes his heart beat fiercely. 

  the boy finds that the ire he once held for this unknown woman slowly starts to fade away, no matter how hard he wills it to remain. her eyes are like pools of warmth that beckon him to swim within them and her smile is small, but genuine- and calix swears that it's the first one that he's seen outside of his family.

    he opens his mouth to say something but there is nothing. 'aerith', seeing him struggle, cocks her head to the right and lets out a soft hum. 

  “say, i've had a hard time figuring out these halls, i just keep getting lost no matter what i do." she trails off in faux hesitancy and watches as his face lights up slowly but surely. the boy clears his throat and toots his nose up in a haughty manner, a smug smirk hugging his lips, calix finds that though her accent is unfamiliar and slightly heavy, it's not unpleasant to hear.

    "i suppose i'll give you a tour, no need to beg." calix scrambles to his feet, fixing his clothing. “i'll visit you early tomorrow morning, be ready!" before she can say anything else, the boy is off, running through the halls once more. 

"my lady? where has the little lord gone?" 

  smiling, you stand from your crouched position and turn to face your personal maid. "it seems he's run off. have the balm sent to his quarters when you have the chance."    

     lily nods and follows dutifully after you. "shall i show you around tomorrow then my lady?" you place a hand over your mouth to stifle your small laughter. "worry not lily, it seems i've reserved a guide." 

[lunamochii]

you, me, our dreams.

cw ; thirdyear!hinata shoyo x f!reader, angst to fluff.

Dating Shoyo is like throwing yourself into a tornado, you never know what will be the next spin off of your relationship. During the last years of highschool, your relationship have gone still, his more preoccupied now on trying to make his dreams come true.

But what about finding from other people that his going abroad after finishing highschool?

"One more lap!"

The voice of your coach reach your ears even though you've gone underwater and when you finally finish your training, you got out from the pool and excuse yourself from the team. Changing back to your uniform, the note you got earlier from your locker, in which you put on the pocket of your skirt fell down

'Let's have a date! See ya afterschool, babe.'

You don't feel the usual tingling sensation, not even the butterflies in your stomach. You hurriedly put on your uniform and grab your bag, waving to your teammates you finally exited the pool area and run from there to your house. It's not that far but it really got you gasping for air once you arrive at your doorstep

A hot bath always relaxes your mind and body everytime you get home and you know that you need it now.

After taking a bath you just blow dried your hair and throw yourself at your bed, by the time you close your eyes you are once again reminded on what you've heard hours ago that you wish you'll just forget

"Oh the memories!"

You stop at your tracks when you heard some familiar voices, peeking out from where you are. You can see the faces of some of the alumni of Karasuno Voleyball Team

"I'm so excited to see Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi! Hope those four didn't stress Hitoka-chan."

"You're such a worry rat Asahi! I mean, same. I will teach Kageyama what to do with his sign once he get popular!"

The three men laugh and you can't help but admire how strong their bond is. You transferred to Karasuno during second year and that's where when the voleyball team are at the top. It also didn't help that you are at the same class of Shoyo and Kageyama, you three became friends and they always invites you over to watch some of their practice match

Although your relationship with Shoyo went from friends to lovers, his a ray of sunshine that you can't help but want to get close. It was valentines day when he surprise you with chocolates and flowers, remembering the teasing face of Tsukishima and Kageyama seeing how Shoyo almost fumble his surprise

"Though is Hinata really sure of his plans after graduation?"

It was Sawamura who spoke and it got you more curious so you went a little closer to hear more better

'Shoyo's plans after graduation?' He never told you about it

"I know. Brazil is so far away! Our lil'tangerine really grew up huh."

"Never saw it coming."

Their voices slowly fades away as you ponder your mind on what you just heard, why didn't Shoyo told you? Is that why his always busy and away? Just why?

You were brought back to your senses when your phone suddenly vibrated, you forgot that you set it to silent mode. You look at the caller and frown seeing that it's Shoyo

"Hi babe! I think you didn't see the letter I put on your locker, just trying to be romantic, heh. Anyways! I'm at the gate waiting for you."

Hearing his cheery voice makes your heart clench, not in a joyous way but the most saddest way.

"I'm sorry, I went home already."

"Eh? Then I'll go-"

"Not today, Hinata."

That's a warning the moment he heard you call him by his last name, you never call him that on a daily basis except when you're not in the mood

"Did something happen? Are you okay?"

You bit your lower lip before answering him, suppressing your emotions

"I'm fine. Bye."

The call ended and it was just the start of you slowly drifting away from Shoyo.

Morning came and you arrived at the classroom earlier than usual, you also exited the room before Shoyo can even go up and talk to you. You also manage to avoid him during lunch and recess by going with your friends. Last but not the least, you always go home earlier than usual.

2 weeks later

You were about to go home when a text from Hitoka arrive stating that she needs to tell you something, she said that you're the only class president left who hasn't know about it yet because she couldn't catch you.

Arriving at the gym, you notice that there's no people and that maybe Hitoka left since her text was sent 20 mins after you finish your training

"I'll just- *slam*"

You quickly turn around but to be only greeted by a hug, the familiar scent and warm immediately let your body be at rest. You didn't move nor pat him on the back, you only stood still and just look down even after he break away from the hug

"You're killing me, y'know that? 2 weeks without hearing your voice, feeling your warm embrace. I miss everything about you, ____."

His hand touches your face but you refuse to meet his gaze because you know that the moment you lift your face, all the strong facade you've put up will crumble

"I'm just busy. The swimming tournament is just around the corner so I've been practicing."

He knows that's a lie, Shoyo just knows. He learn from your teammates that the tournament got push back to next month and that you're pushing yourself to your limits everytime you train

"Why are you lying?"

That irk you

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are! The tournament is on next month and that you're just extra training trying to avoid me."

That did it, you push him away from you

"So what? Not like you care, Hinata. We're both athletes so you know how important our sports to us."

Still, you kept your head hang low. Fuck, your tears are already pooling on your eyes and you just hope that your voice won't waver for a second

"But you're important to me too! Look, I know I'm not the best boyfriend but I think about you all the time! Not being near you these past few days is torture, ____."

You scoff and Shoyo heard it loud and clear, something's wrong and it's telling him to reach out to you or else you'll really slip away from him

"Think about me? What a joke! Ever since we became third years, our relationship have gone astray. We only meet each other once a week or maybe none!"

His not understanding a word you're saying and his heart is beating so fast

"We are adults now, we can make big decision without trying to consult or tell others about it, right?"

"What are you saying?"

Shoyo lift his hand to reach out to you but

"Don't touch me!"

He got taken back at the sudden raise of your voice, he also notice how you kept fiddling with your hands

"What I'm trying to say is, let's just break up!"

"No. No, you can't just say that."

Shoyo immediately grab your shoulders but you kept on pushing him

"Let go of me, Hinata!"

"I can't do that. Please, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, just let me go!"

"Saying we break up is not nothing!"

Using all your strength you manage to push him hard and he landed on the floor, his eyes studied your actions and saw how you balled your fist and when he was about to speak up, tears drip down from your face to the floor

"I'm nothing to you! You don't think of me! Aren't you glad that I'm breaking up with you?! It will be more easier for you to just forget about me and go to Brazil, right?!"

"Where did you-"

"I'm doing you a favor so please just forget about me, think nothing of me!"

You gasp when he stood up and pulls you in for a tight hug

"Shoyo, please!"

"I'm not letting you go. Never."

"I hate you! I hate you!"

You cried on to his arm that you didn't notice your shoulder getting wet from his own tears, you two stood at the center of the gym, crying. When you calmed down and stop resisting, he pulled away enough to get a closer look of your face, he tilt your face up and capture your lips for a sweet and long kiss.

"I hate you.." you said in between kisses "I know.." and he replied but that didn't make Shoyo pull away. He broke the kiss when he felt your hands on his back, he looks at you but you averted his gaze.

Shoyo pulled you towards the stage and he lifts you up effortlessly and made you sit on the stage floor. He place his arms on each side of your body as he captures your lips for a kiss again. This time, your hands started to play on his orange locks, you feel like drowning each time he moves his lips. You hate how much grip he has on you, but what you hate the most is knowing you'll never be the same once you two part ways

"Open your mouth for me.."

"Mhm..!"

His now standing in between your thighs, one hand is place on your back while the other one is on the back of your neck. The deeper the kiss goes, the deeper you let yourself drown on to his love. When the both of you pulled away, a string of saliva appeared and you quickly cover your lips

"I planned to tell you that I'm going to Brazil the day I left the note on your locker. I guess you heard it from my teammates."

"No, not from your teammates. Didn't your seniors visited that day? I was passing by the gym when I heard them talk about it."

Shoyo hums and rest his head on the crook of your neck, his lips leaving soft feathering kiss there

"I love you, ____. I think about you all the time, every day and night. Even when I'm about to sleep, you're always on my mind. Not a day passes by where you're not included on my thoughts. I know that not telling you a little bit earlier of my plans is a bad move but it's because I'm also having trouble with it."

You softly stroke his hair and held hands with him, you miss being this close with him

"Trouble?"

"Mhm the thought of me leaving you all alone, the thought of me going somewhere where I'm away from the people I treasure, away from the person I love the most. It gives me so much pain, seeing your tears flow down from your cheeks while ago, it makes me want to back out from my own decision."

"No, I was being selfish. I want you to go after your dreams, I want you to shine more, Shoyo. I want the world to know just how good you are, I want to show the world what they're missing. Don't let my meaningless words and actions hold you back. Chase it, chase your dreams."

"But you're one of my dreams too. I want you to be at my side as I slowly reach the top. I want you near me. I want you to be there."

He cup your cheeks and kisses you lips which made you smile warmly and Shoyo couldn't help but fall even more harder

"And I will be there. I'm sorry for acting out of character. It was dumb of me."

"No, you're feelings are valid. If you were the one who did that to me, I'll have the same reaction."

You laugh softly and Shoyo kisses you once again, this time it's more full of his overflowing passion and desire for you.

"Stop pushing!"

"Fuck- I can't hear their voices."

"Guys we shouldn't be eavesdropping..."

"Tadashi is right guys!"

"The hell King! Move your ass!"

"What did you say Tsukishima?!"

"Stop it you two!"

You jolted away making you break away from the kiss and Shoyo let's out a annoyed sigh making you giggle and as soon the doors of the gym burst open and revealed Hitoka, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Kageyama.

"____, Hinata! Have you guys fix things up?"

Hitoka is the first one who spoke

"Just how long were you guys eavesdropping?" Shoyo ask

"When we heard ____ gasp for air." Kageyama answered

"What?!" You scream "Kageyama!" The setter look at his friends with annoyed expression, silently asking if what he said is wrong

"And that's why you can never have a girlfriend."

Tsukishima deadpans and that was the cue of them two bickering and you just can't help but shake your head. Shoyo squeezes your hand and you turn your head to look at him, he stole a quick kiss and press his forehead to yours

"I love you, ____."

"I love you too, Shoyo."

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