#reblog your things i’m curious if i’m the only one that does this

[chaoswarfare]

okay. so.

i have so many random things saved on my phone that are definitely weird. not like really concerned worrying stuff, but just things that make you stop and wonder what the heck i was thinking saving them and just leaving them there.

this is my current favorite.

i’m going to be a wizard someday.

[senascoop]

┊ WHAT'S AFTER LIKE? . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎

ꣀ꣒ things #ENHYPEN does to embarrass you

mean enhypen ! × embarrassed female ! reader : : fluff + established relationship [ARCHIVE]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

. , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !

Heeseung is just, well, Heeseung—playful, sweet, and a little too good at embarrassing you. He adores your laugh, finding it both cute and amusing, and he can’t help but imitate it at every chance he gets. At the dinner table with your mutual friends, he lets out a loud, exaggerated "Hahaha!" that perfectly mimics your unique laugh. Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing red as everyone’s attention turns to the two of you. “Heeseung, stop,” you mutter, nudging him lightly with your elbow, but he’s already caught up in his antics, repeating the laugh with a cheeky grin. He laughs even harder, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. “I can’t help it, babe. Your laugh is just too cute!” he teases, squeezing your hand under the table.

read rest of the members below !

. , PARK JAY ☁︎ 박종성 !

Jay’s made it his mission to finish your sentences in the most dramatic way possible, especially when you’re in the middle of a conversation with others. You’re out with friends, recounting a story about your recent mishap at work. “And then I said to my boss—” you start, only for Jay to cut in with a deep, overly dramatic voice, “—‘I CAN HANDLE IT, NO PROBLEM AT ALL!’” You shoot him a look, but Jay just grins, clearly pleased with himself. Your friends burst into laughter, while you try to compose yourself, cheeks heating up. “Jay, seriously?” you groan, but he just winks at you, unfazed. “What? I’m just helping you tell the story with a bit more flair,” he says, nudging your shoulder.

. , SIM JAKE ☁︎ 심재윤 !

Jake loves his nicknames for you—maybe a little too much, especially when he knows it makes you blush in front of others. You’re shopping at the mall together, casually browsing through racks of clothes when Jake spots you struggling with a decision. “What do you think, babe?” you ask, holding up two dresses for him to see. Jake smiles, but instead of answering, he decides to turn up the embarrassment level. “Hmm, I don’t know, my little sugar plum fairy princess,” he says loudly, drawing curious glances from the people nearby. Your eyes widen, and you quickly glance around. “Jake, keep it down!” you hiss, feeling your face heat up as you try to shush him. But Jake is having none of it. “Why, my precious snuggle muffin? You know I love when you’re all flustered,” he teases, giving you a cheeky grin.

. , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !

One of his favorite tactics is showing off old, less-than-flattering photos of you—usually the ones you wish would just disappear. It’s a casual gathering at your place, with some of your mutual friends. You’re busy preparing snacks when you suddenly hear Sunghoon's voice from behind you, “Hey guys, look what I found!” Your heart sinks as you turn around to see Sunghoon grinning, holding up his phone with an old photo of you. It’s one from a few years ago—a particularly awkward phase where you were experimenting with a questionable hairstyle and had a goofy expression. “Sunghoon, no!” you protest, rushing over to grab the phone from him, but he’s too quick, holding it just out of your reach. “Aw, come on, isn’t she adorable?” he teases, flipping through a few more equally embarrassing photos, much to your horror. Your friends are laughing, but it’s all good-natured fun, even if you feel your cheeks burning.

. , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !

You’re out at a café with Sunoo and a group of your mutual friends. Everything is going smoothly until Sunoo decides it’s the perfect moment to share a story about your shared inside joke. “So, remember that time we were at the amusement park and you were too scared to go on the roller coaster?” Sunoo starts, grinning as he looks at you. “You said you’d rather face a herd of wild animals than go on it!” You feel your face flush as the group bursts into laughter. It’s a funny story, but it’s one that you thought was private and only for the two of you to laugh about. “Sunoo, stop,” you say, trying to cover your face with your hands as you feel the heat rise. “It’s not that funny.”

. , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !

Jungwon has a knack for turning the simplest moments into grand gestures, often leaving you blushing and slightly embarrassed. You’re at a café with Jungwon, enjoying a quiet date. As the barista brings over your coffee, Jungwon suddenly decides to make a big show of his affection. He stands up, grabs your hand, and exclaims, “I just have to say, my favorite person in the world is sitting right here with me!” The other patrons glance over, some smiling, others trying to stifle their laughter. You can feel your face heating up as Jungwon continues, “She’s the most amazing person, and I’m so lucky to be with her.” Despite your attempts to shush him or pull your hand away, Jungwon just keeps going, completely oblivious to your growing embarrassment.

. , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !

Niki finds immense joy in teasing you, and he takes it to another level by making one of your most awkward selfies his phone wallpaper. You’re lounging in Niki’s room, casually scrolling through your phone, when you glance at his phone resting on the coffee table. You turn to Niki, who’s lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his own phone. “Niki,” you begin, your voice filled with disbelief. “Why is my most embarrassing selfie your wallpaper?” He glances up, trying to stifle his laughter, but the mischievous sparkle in his eyes is unmistakable. “What? That old thing?” he replies nonchalantly. “I thought it was hilarious!” Your cheeks flush with heat as you cross the room to grab the phone, but Niki grabs it first, holding it out of your reach. “Come on, it’s just a funny picture,” he insists, his grin widening. “Every time I see it, I think of how cute you look even when you’re being silly.”

© senascoop | tumblr

[bwabys-scenarios]

helloooo!! I saw ur requests were open and that you were askin for some dungeon meshi x chubby reader....I gotchu covered.

May I please request some Chilchuck(or..Chilchack?? Ive no clue what the spelling is..) x Chubby!Reader and maybe also some Laois x Chubby!Reader? If you dont do multiples then either guy is fine!!

Sfw and nsfw on how they interact and think of your body? Scenarios like you tending to grab Chilchuck away from danger alot so he gets alot of booba action?? Embarrassed flustered old man?? Having to look up at you(if you were to be taller) but all he sees is ur chest?? Him givin Alot of needy attention to them when you do fool around cuz it Has been a big thing on his mind?? Him stiching and adjusting ur undershirt so it actually helps support ur chest a bit better and ur so grateful? Laois having a staring habit when he spaces out...yknow him and his tendencies to be curious(he wanted to Count Izutsumi nipples for gods sake.), he just doesnt know, he doesnt mean for it to be creepy or anything he jus is SO infactuated w ur body its so so so beautiful to him, him getting super happy and starts exploring ur body when consent is given?? Alot of his attention is on ur chest too, weighing it, squeezing. Stuff w warm body heat too, Just all around big loving

Thank you so much if you decide to do this and incredibly sorry if I messed up in my ask in anyway 💖💖💖

Chilchuck x Chubby!Reader SFW/NSFW HCs

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

a/n: I will do the Laois one in a separate post!! The Chilchuck ideas just… spoke to me!! Also pls send me Dungeon Meshi requests… I’m open to writing for all the adult characters…

warnings: boob sucking, tittyfucking, breeding, cockwarming, thigh fucking, pussy eating

SFW

-you’re probably the only one in the party that he can sleep next to without complaining. you’re soft and warm, and when you ask if you can share his bed with him for the night because it’s cold, he’s… a bit too eager to lift up his blanket for you to join him.

-he complains that you don’t eat enough, and ends up giving you bits of his lunch and dinner. he just think your chubby cheeks are so cute when you’re chewing and likes to watch you eat. he does worry for you though…

-if it’s dark and you’re a bit afraid, he’ll hold your hand. if you ask him why in front of Laois or Marcille he’ll get all flustered and say he didn’t want you to trip him up.

-he only reaches your boobs, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. he can look at your boobs all day with little to no suspicion, but he also gets pulled into your boobs quite often when you hug him or try and save him from an attack. that might sound good to some people, but to him it gets him all flustered and hard embarrassed, then he gets teased by Marcille :(

-oh my gosh snuggles with him are so nice. he’s rather light so once the two of you are close, he’ll lie on top of you and bury his face in your chest or tummy! he’s actually quite the cuddlebug, and will want to snuggle you every single night after the first time.

-your tummy… he loves it so much. Chilchuck is quite the fan of anything soft, so more often than not, when he’s taking a nap he’ll have his head in your lap and face buried in your chubby tummy.

-he’s a bit embarrassed to show you affection in front of the others, so ways he shows he cares are usually subtle unless it’s behind closed doors or away from prying eyes. he peels your apples for you, bandages you up after you get hurt, will tug on your shirt to remind you that he’s here and that he loves you, and give your palm secret kisses when no one’s looking.

-he’s surprisingly possessive? when Laois looks at you, even if he’s just curious and wants to ask you questions, Chilchuck rushes over and finds some excuse to pull you away. he’s the most worried about Laois, but doesn’t like Senshi being all close to you either. he puts up with it more though, but dislikes that Senshi acts like yours and his relationship is like puppy love(Chilchuck is a grown ass man 😭)

-he’s very soft with you, very rarely being sarcastic or short with you specifically. he made you cry once early on in your relationship and it absolutely devastated him, so since then he’s been a lot more careful about what he says

-speaking of crying, he can’t stand your tears, it makes him nervous. if you’re a cry baby be prepared for him to be fretting over you constantly!

-you’re the person everyone in the party wants to snuggle with when it gets cold, so he has to shoo people away, blushing and stuttering about how they’re crowding you. once they’re all pouting and walking away, he huffs and snuggles up to you. you find his jealousy pretty cute, so you lift up your shirt a little so he can duck under it and rest his head on your chubby tummy or breasts.

-your chubby cheeks activate his cuteness aggression. he didn’t even know he liked cute things until he saw your cheeks puffed out and warm after someone made you mad. he nearly stopped breathing, it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t help but cup your cheek in his hands. your face heated up even more when he stared up at your with those adoring eyes, gently pinching your cheeks. “soft… so soft and warm…”

-he can be a bit clingy at times, especially when it gets colder out. when you go to sleep, he has to sleep under your shirt, his head on your chest or tummy. you complain about him stretching your your shirts, but he thinks the slightly oversized look is cute on you. honestly, everything is cute on you, because you’re adorable to him.

NSFW

-boobies… he loves your boobs so much. they’re soft and warm, feeling nice and heavy in his hands when he holds them. loves when he gets to bury his face in your bare chest and just snooze… but he also adores getting to play with your nipples, gently nibbling and suckling on the perky buds. he won’t lie, he can get hard just from looking at your clothed chest…

-he is absolutely a service dom that wants to make you feel good, but he can also enjoy being taken care of sometimes!

-enjoys being between your thighs more than he likes to admit. the first time he tasted your pussy was also the first time you ever saw him look so… in love. he gets pussy drunk within minutes, not able to stop sucking on your sensitive clit until you push his head away. he had a wife so he’s definitely experienced with pleasing a woman, so don’t be surprised when he has you cumming on his tongue for an hour or more! <3

-when he’s feeling a bit horny and doesn’t want to bother you at night, he’ll kiss your temple and hold onto your hips as he fucks your thighs, his cock lightly brushing against your pussy. your thighs are fat and soft, and he just loves nestling his cock between them!

-sometimes he’s just tired and wants some snuggles, so he’ll have his cock buried inside of you while you sit on his lap. the first time he asked for this you were terrified you’d crush him because he’s so small and you’re chubby, but he begged for it, something he had never done before. you relented, and as soon as he was buried inside of you, with his head nuzzled against your chest, he looked just too content. “thank you, love… it’s perfect…”

-he’s embarrassed by how good it feels to hear you moan his name, when you say how his cock feels so nice when it hits that certain spot and how you’re gonna cum way quicker than he expected. you being so attracted to him, feeling so much pleasure by him just thrusting into you gets him feeling giddy!

-he most certainly has a bit of a breeding kink… he has 3 daughters already that he loves, but… the urge to claim you and give you a child as well does make his body heat up and his pants grow tight. Chilchuck would like to get you pregnant, but only when it’s safe to do so. he doesn’t pull out though… he just can’t, it’s too tempting and you’re way too warm and cozy… it’s why he loves cockwarming so much!

-circling back to boobs… he’s definitely the type to enjoy a good tittyfuck, but it’ll take him a while to accept this. he’s utterly embarrassed to have his cock anywhere near your face due to being a bit shy, but once he’s nestled between your breasts and your tongue touches the tip of his cock, he groans, nearly cumming right then and there. he’s already a huge fan of your breasts, so feeling them on his cock is otherworldly, and it becomes one of his favorite ways to relieve stress

-he likes to either cum inside of you or on your tummy… he refuses to cum on your face, and will only cum in your mouth if you ask. when he fucks your thighs, he does tend to make a mess all over you and feels awful since it’s not exactly easy to bathe regularly in the dungeon. but you do look awfully cute, messy and sticky with his cum, puffing out your chubby cheek to give him a pout.

[ms-demeanor]

i’m curious what your opinion is on the finer points of the case mentioned in the JSTOR post you reblogged earlier. the two sources in the post say that JSTOR didn’t press charges against him and had already settled with him by the time he killed himself. from what i read on wikipedia, the concern seems to be that JSTOR complied with a subpoena, which i don’t believe they have a choice to ignore? if anything it seems like the us government had reason to want him dead for wikileaks and public court records reasons, so they took a terms of use violation and blew it up into a dozen federal crimes.

is there more context i should be aware of? i have no particular affection or malice for JSTOR but the sources i found don’t exactly implicate the database or its employees in murder.

That's from page 175 of this document. This line: "The activity noted is outright theft and may merit a call with university counsel, and even the local police, to ensure not only that the activity has stopped but that - e.g. the visiting scholar who left - isn't leaving with a hard drive containing our database" is where I think the culpability starts.

If someone is downloading 1000s of articles (what seems like reasonable threshold for us to take action), what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc. Our content is extraordinarily valuable and hard to replicate by the sweat of one's brow, but can be duplicated by savvy hackers and who knows what they want to do with the content?

Page 379: "Does the university contact law enforcement? Would they be willing to do so in this instance?

From page 1296:

I think the important thing to note here is that JSTOR had worked with MIT and had plans in place to prevent future similar downloads, but remained focused on identifying the person responsible for the downloads and ensuring that their data was deleted.

"I might just be irked because I am up dealing with this person on a Sunday night, but I am starting to feel like they need to get a hold of this situation right away or we need to offer to send them some help (read FBI).

And there it is. Page 3093 of the document.

JSTOR can hem and haw about it all they want, but you can't un-call the cops.

MIT was working with JSTOR on preventing future incidents of pirating, but JSTOR repeatedly said that they weren't going to let it go, that it was unacceptable to drop the issue, that they were going to continue to pursue the pirate.

You can scroll through the document and see the JSTOR tech department and abuse team talking about Swartz as a script kiddie, and a hacker. You can see someone talking about how this was real theft - making the comparison to stealing books even while admitting that piracy doesn't close others out of access.

You can see the thread starts with a joke about punching someone in the face for hacking their system, and includes the tech team ominously considering whether they should threaten the MIT librarians with the FBI.

There's something really important to note here which I don't think that people who aren't PRETTY DEEP into hackery shit aren't aware of: US law enforcement is absolutely rabidly feral about prosecuting hackers. People may be more aware of this now because of Chelsea Manning and Edward Snowden (and perhaps a bit on tumblr because of maia arson crimew), but people who work in tech and who are in infosec - like the people joking about calling the FBI in these emails - would be aware of the bonkers disproportionate punishments faced by hackers. And knowing that, they kept pushing and pushing and pushing for identification of the hacker. They kept digging with MIT, they kept saying that simply preventing future incidents wasn't enough.

Early in the exchange someone from JSTOR asked "what's wrong with us - or the university in collaboration with us - alerting the cyber-crimes division of law enforcement and initiating an investigation, having cop search dorm room and try to retrieve any hard drive that contains our content, etc." and the answer is what happened to Aaron Swartz.

It is absolute bullshit for JSTOR to say "we arrived at a solution privately and didn't want to press charges" after law enforcement has gotten involved with a hacking case, especially one where they're talking about "real theft" and are attempting to quantify and emphasize the amount that was "stolen" from them.

The *public* may believe that private individuals or institutions are the ones who "press charges" but that's simply not the case. It's prosecutors who decide whether or not to go ahead with charges; they do it based on what cases they think they can win and what their office's perspective is on the crime. When you hear about people choosing to press charges it simply means that they decided to tell the prosecutor they wanted the case to go forward. It's up to the prosecutor whether or not that happens.

And the tech team at JSTOR had to know that law enforcement wasn't just going to wag a finger at an academic hacker.

There's a parallel here that happens sometimes when people have their identities stolen by their parents. If you mom takes out a credit card in your name, that's identity theft. That's fraud. That's illegal. If you reach the age of 25 and realize that your credit is ruined because your mom has been defaulting on cards in your name, you've got two choices to fix that: one is to accept the debt and pay it off and build up credit, and the other is to report the identity theft - which will end up with your mom in prison for a decade or so. Ruin your own personal finances, or your mom goes to jail for ruining your finances. So if you find out that your mom stole your identity you can't just call the cops to pressure her into transferring the debt to her name or something. That's not an option. The cops are not a threat to wave over people, they are not a way to get people to fall in line or act right. They aren't someone you can send to a college student's dorm room to retrieve a hard drive and have the matter drop.

When you call the cops on someone you are sending the full force of the law after them, and the full force of the law falls really heavily on hackers, and how heavy that blow can be is something that the JSTOR team must have been aware of when they were making snide comments about calling the FBI because they were frustrated with the noncommittal responses they were getting from librarians.

Ultimately it was the carceral state that killed Aaron Swartz, but they would not have been involved if JSTOR didn't think that what he did constituted theft.

Taking an *EVEN LARGER* step back from that, the idea that information can be owned and locked behind a paywall is what killed Aaron Swartz, someone who fought for information to be free.

Like. JSTOR is a licensing company. At the end of the day, cute social media posts and all, they're the same as the RIAA and ASCAB. They exist to extract a fee from people attempting to access information.

Aaron Swartz and all that he stood for are an existential threat to their core function.

Are JSTOR's hands as dirty as the federal prosecutors? Absolutely not. But they operate on a model that puts them in opposition to open information activists and it ended up with a hammer falling on Aaron Swartz that they dropped.

[acid-ixx]

I’m new, I just read your fic about neglect reader. I haven’t read through your blog yet but I am so excited after reading this fic. I am an emotional wreck right now and my curiosity is eating me alive with this question “Does reader know about Jason? Will they ever met? Ever have a platonic relationship together? Will Jason be more of a brother to reader?”

I’m sorry I speed through the fic and tears are in my eyes I couldn’t think straight BUT I notice that Jason is hardly there so I’m curious. Please this is such a brain rot, it’s way past midnight after I read this cause I keep stopping to cry.

major (?) spoilers below.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

hello anon !! im so happy ppl are getting more exposed to the content i have written so far. anyways, i can't believe i also got others to cry bec i did too when i was writing 😭

anyways, to answer ur question: yes! the reader will meet jason and he would actually be the first sibling you would meet after you have left the manor. the way he would turn yandere for you is a different approach to how the others would be because in the prequel, it has been stated that you had your fair share of encounters with him.

"will they ever have a platonic relationship with him/see him as a brother?" maybe, maybe not. because your meeting with him would all be a blur to you, and jason's obsession would stem from the trauma he had experienced, causing him to be more protective of you.

you're not in your best mindset and you're vulnerable walking through the streets of gotham and all alone? oh god, only a dumbass would do that— but once the red hood recognizes your face and the way you carry yourself so pitiably, he immediately tries to take you in his arms just as he should.

but the moment you push him away? tell him to fuck off despite your drunken state? the moment you cry and tell him you could deal with everything yourself without his help or anybody else's? you just remind him of himself and that triggers his first spiral into yandere-ism.

it's the way you share trauma, the way you both feel immense anger. he should've noticed sooner because you two would've been as close as peas in a pod. and yet he failed you by being a hypocrite. you were literally taken into the manor right after his death and discarded like you were mere trash. he should've taken you away when he had the opportunity to but he was too caught up in his feat of revenge.

yet the worst part was that he had taken notice of tim before he did you, and jason had momentarily hated you too because he thought bruce had replaced him. if he had looked through that veil of contempt that he had for you, and saw just how neglected and in need of attention you are, then he would've taken you under his wing.

but he didn't, and he had done the same thing to you as most did.

so take it as you will when i say you're more or less going to be closer (albeit unwillingly) to jason than anybody else because unlike his other siblings who are bound by their vigilante duties, your big brother jason wouldn't mind shooting any creeps who think they could touch his precious angel.

and he gets it, too, angel— you hate him, you hate them all and that's valid. but you can't just walk out in the streets alone and expect to be home in one piece; so leave it to him to scout your apartment alright? leave it to your big brother jason to intimidate the goons who try to stalk you when you're not looking. even if you don't want him near you, you'll always find warm food by your table and a note reminding you to take care of yourself more often.

it hurts when you rip the paper to shreds but it breaks his heart even more if you refuse to touch the meal he would leave for you, because that probably means you saw him as danger more than anything else. and he doesn't know it, but you're already planning to make a run for it now that you're under red hood's radar.

it's obvious that you have no experience when it comes to living by yourself, so please don't fucking push him away and let him protect you from any harm. your self destructive habits only causes him to become more protective of you and it only lets him stalk you more often to ensure nobody would touch his precious angel.

just like dick, you'll be treated more like a child than that of a young adult, but at least jason has the concept of personal space compared to your eldest brother. but still, jason wishes to hold you in his arms.

heaven forbid if the joker ever got his crummy fingers on you. jason would go berserk.

little does he know, little does your family know just how much they had lost the opportunity to keep you in wraps inside the manor.

they should've never let you out in the first place.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Headcanons

Father!Alastor & Child!GN!Reader

PURELY PLATONIC

TW:NONE!

A/N: I just have ideas for Papa Alastor and his little fawn gremlin child. To that Anon who came up with it! If you have any input don’t be afraid to reblog or shoot me an ask with your own (even if my askbox is closed just let me know it’s you).  I was listening to ‘No More Birthdays by Sophie May’.

Domestic fluff with Papa Alastor and his little fawn.

Second Part

So- I don’t know if sinners “age” or grow up in hell but let’s say for the sake of this little post that they do but it's really really slow or you're just a little child forever..WHO KNOWS.

Anyways…you’re like a carbon copy of Alastor only smaller and maybe brighter colors (Where as he has dark red hair you have maybe lighter red hair or a different light color) and little white spots in your hair or fur, maybe some freckles too. 

You are the only soul that is allowed to touch his cane without his permission or guidance, especially because he knows you like to wander off at times, not too far but when you both are walking down the street and he’s not feeling into physical contact he holds his cane out to you and that’s your cue to hold on. If he’s fine with physical contact? He’ll be holding your tiny hand into his, it’s something he got used to doing when he walked you to school those early mornings before he had to go to his radio station.

When he introduces you to Niffty and Husk? He’s not worried about Niffty, but he is glaring Husk down as you walk around the ex-overlord. You’re just curious. But once you get used to him you walk back over to your Papa and hold onto his cane, that’s his signal that you’re ready to go.

I’m a firm believer that sinners still feel the pain of whatever killed them in life when they get into hell as a reminder of why they are there. So speaking of that, Alastor gets hella bad migraines which he got used to easily but when he hears you coughing? He’s immediately by your side and holding a handkerchief to your mouth. He pulls you closer to him if it’s one of those bad coughs that make you wheeze really bad, he’s just a scared Papa and doesn’t know modern medicine well enough to get you the right treatment.

He dresses you in the fashion he’s used to, which is either a button down shirt with slacks or a dress. You’d wear a small little bowtie either around your neck or in your hair. 

Now when he arrives at the Hotel with you? You’re automatically being held because he knows you as his child and how curious you are but also he’s a paranoid deer dad. But after a while? He’s letting you down and gently patting your back to let you wander around, just please stay in his line of sight for now. He walks around the hotel with you so you can see all the sights as Charlie and Vaggie are with him explaining everything. 

Speaking of Charlie and Vaggie, they both terrified you and it almost sent Alastor into a frenzy. He doesn’t care if Vaggie points a spear at him but not at his little fawn. Charlie was just loud and that frightened you. 

Angel Dust wasn’t allowed around you for a while, but once he was, he was very sober and didn’t utter a word about anything your ears shouldn’t know lest he faces the wrath of your Papa. He also gets you treats and gives you head pats.

You do have your own room next to Alastor’s and he makes sure it looks like it did when you were alive, filled with your favorite toys and books lining the shelves. He got Rosie to make you a new teddy bear that resembled him once more and you absolutely adore that thing.

You and Niffty are gremlins together but she keeps her eye on you the whole time and makes sure you don’t get hurt or in trouble. She’s also very helpful when you start having a coughing fit but if it gets really bad? She gets Charlie or Husk to help. 

Alastor pulls Charlie aside one day whilst you are playing, “Charlie, you know I don���t believe in this silly little redemption thing as a whole but..if this does end up working, I want my little fawn to be up there. They don’t deserve to be down here with these disgusting and vile creatures. That’s all I care about.” He whispered glancing back at you as Charlie followed his gaze before smiling and nodding, “Of course, Alastor. How did..” She stopped herself as Alastor stood up tall. “They were sick ever since they were just a little baby..” He whispered out before clearing his throat and cleaning his monocle. He was done talking..reminiscing on his past mistakes.

When Mimzy comes around? He doesn’t let her near you, he knows what trouble she brings and he won’t stand for it if she dares harm a hair on your head. It’s not that he doesn’t trust her, it’s just he’d rather not feel the heartbreak he did all those years ago when he first lost you.

Some nights when you're fast asleep he holds you in his arms and sits on the floor. It grounds him when he feels you breathing, especially when memories of that night plague him and he can’t seem to catch a break. Even if he’s at his breaking point with physical affection, he will force himself to hold you just because those thoughts are plaguing him and he has to make sure you're breathing. His hands will rub circles on your back and he’ll let himself cry but it will be drowned out by soft jazz playing just in case someone walks by your bedroom door.

He also finds it soothing when he brushes and does your hair, even if you don’t have long hair he’ll brush it out for you in the mornings while he enjoys his coffee. He’s very careful around your tiny deer ears too. If you have trouble tying your bowtie or bow? Don’t worry, He is getting down on one knee and tying it for you while talking you through the steps.

100% you are his little sous chef/ taste tester. His love for spicy food is passed down to you and if it’s not spicy enough for you it’s definitely not spicy for him. While he himself doesn’t like to indulge in sweets, he’ll learn to make your favorite treat and surprise you with it. 

Omg when Lucifer comes to the hotel? Alastor gets protective because now the King of Hell is talking to you and not him but he’s not being mean about it…kinda. He’ll make an off joke about Alastor and you’ll stomp your hoof and puff your chest out and headbutting Lucifer. It’s even better if you have little nubs where your antlers (if you have them) are growing in. That’s what the King of Hell gets for bad talking your Papa in front of you! It doesn’t hurt Lucifer but he gets the gist (he doesn’t)

A/N: Once again if anyone has any headcannons of their own go wild. These are just I thought of!

Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord (figured since you drew those masterpieces, I'd tag you in some more little headcanons)

[see-u-next-level]

hey there, yoi fandom!

i watched this show for the first time a few weeks ago, loved it, and am so far unable to stop thinking about it, so i thought i’d make a sideblog to post and reblog stuff about it :)

since i’m so new to a fandom that’s been here for a couple of years, what i’d really like to ask is… firstly, who’s still here? i know that there’s definitely still a lot of yoi blogs on here — seeing @jewishvitya’s (i hope it’s ok to tag you ansvsjdgdj) posts is kind of what pushed me to finally watch this show in the first place :D —but most of the blogs i’ve stumbled upon either haven’t posted in a couple of years or are about different fandoms now. feel free to interact with this post if you post abt yoi, i’d love to have your stuff on my dash!

secondly, i wanted to ask if there’s any, like, canon stuff or iconic things i should know about it? i know of welcome to the madness and the ice adolescence teaser, but that’s it. are there any like, interviews or comics or other promotional content that you enjoyed seeing, or are a kind of ‘staple’ of the fandom, if that makes sense?

and lastly i just kind of wanted to know if there’s anything y’all recommend in terms of fanworks? it can be fics that are popular in the fandom or things that you’ve personally made or enjoyed! i really just want more stuff about these characters tbh. i don’t really mind any ships or characters, and am fine with all ratings, so like, go wild :)

also… i may be stupid😭, but why does the fandom usually spell yuuri (k) with two ‘u’s, when the show usually doesn’t? i’m just curious about how/why this came about, i think i’m maybe missing smth

ahsjshdjdhd this is the only specific thing on this post but i’ve been thinking about the final episode a lot and i’ve been trying to find some kind of jj and yuuri fic that’s about the two of them and their weddings after the final, but also their feelings about where they placed, their similar breakdowns at the gpf etc. i haven’t really been able to find a fic like this on ao3 so if you know of one i’d love a link to it! :)

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ OFFICE HOURS ONLY - kento nanami

CW: afab!reader, stimulation/penetration, cunnilingus, pet name used is "sweetheart", unprotected sex, gojo mentioned as y/n's fuck buddy, female anatomy.

Word Count: 3.7k

Author's Note: HI GUYZ! this was a collab written by myself and my pookie: @satorusluvrgirl . we worked really hard on this and we're so incredibly proud on how it turned out. i hope you enjoy reading! leave a like and reblog to show support.

WORKING hours and hours at the most famous company really had you fucking drained to the fullest. Getting up at 6 am to be at work at 8 and then going home at 11 pm. Your schedule was mostly full of just work on work on work. But the pay was good at least. And it’s not like you totally hated your job, there was one thing you really looked forward to every morning.

Which was Nanami Kento. The man who would always greet you when you would walk in the office, his “good morning, miss” would always hit the spot, making you look forward to the day. The man who welcomed you on your first day and took you out to get a coffee, little did you know he remembered it, taking you your coffee everyday. The man who would always try to make small talk with you in the break room and ask you little questions.

You knew since the first day you had a huge crush on Nanami. After all he was handsome, well put together, and very well dressed. The suits he had on which made him look so sexy in, they were always top designer suits. Which was understandable since he’s been working longer in this company than you and making more. You wanted Nanami. But the more you thought about him, it just made you more curious about him. is he married? does he have kids? what are his hobbies? but you never made your move. You put the thought in your head that a man like him was most likely married and probably had kids, oh but how you were so wrong.

Nanami was single. A hard working single man who was always working 24/7 and practically had no life other than this job. He never really thought of love. He was always stressed and had no time for anything. He wished he could find someone to relate to his problems. Someone who can probably help him and relieve all this stress he has in him. And he will.

NOW it was 9:30 pm on a Friday, you were working on a big project your boss assigned you, it wasn’t too bad but the first section you were done with. It was just the second section you had a struggle with. You had been working on this project for days, you even had to stay overtime. You set your pencil down and sighed, leaning on your chair. Since you were going to be extending your stay at the office tonight, you thought you should get coffee, italian coffee of course. You grabbed your mug, making your way to the break room which was not too far from your office.

But of course Nanami was in there, He turned his head over to you and flashed a smile. “hello y/n”. you smiled back at him, “hi nanami” you said softly, your voice ringing in his ears. You walked in the room making your way to the coffee machine and pouring it in your mug, your back faced to Nanami. “How’s your project coming along? I see you’re staying overtime to finish it?” he leaned over the counter, taking a sip out of his mug.

you let out a chuckle, “yeah I am.. I got done with the first section of it.. it’s just the second part. i’m just so stressed” you sighed. “i’m sorry about that.. but you know I can always give you a helping hand” nanami offered to you. Maybe this could be your chance to get to know him better, but you knew how stressful it could be so you didn’t want him to help you. “uhm no nanami it’s okay really.. I really appreciate the offer though” you nodded. “I don’t take no for an answer, y/n” he said in a serious tone.

“are you really sure?” you looked at him sincere. “yes of course” he nodded, you sighed. “fine, uhm i’ll go over to your office once everyone starts heading out.” he put his coffee mug down to add more creamer, “sure thing”, you smiled and started walking out, “alright thanks nanami! i’ll see you later” you said before leaving the room.

You let out a breath you held in while talking to him, as you got to your office you squealed lowly to yourself in excitement. It was finally your time with Nanami alone. Just you two, no one else in the office.

AS the time passed you grew impatient, you wanted to be with Nanami, and finally the time came. You fixed up yourself in the bathroom mirror. Lifting up your skirt and fixing your blazer, along with your hair. You also fixed up your makeup since you had your bag with you, you added more of your lipstick and gloss on your lips. You got your perfume and sprayed all over your body.

Looking in the mirror you fixed up a little more. You left the bathroom and gathered your things, heading to Nanamis office. You took a deep breath and knocked on his door which you heard him say “Come in!” you slowly opened the door and slid in. “hi” you said with a small wave making Nanami smile. “here come take a seat” he patted the seat next to him by his desk. you took your seat, you opened up your computer and pulled out the section you had to work on for the project. Nanami pulled your chair closer to him making you widened your eyes.

“Sorry I couldn’t see your screen” he said. You nervously chuckled, “i’m sorry about that”. You turned your computer to him. “It’s fine, let’s get to work shall we?” you smiled and nodded. “yes, let’s do it..”

An hour had past by, you and nanami quickly opened up to each other. Just like how you hoped for. He was telling you everything you wanted to know, To his hobbies, to his favorite ice cream color. You were admired by him, the way he talked about his passions with you. It just made you fall for him even more.

Nanami wasn’t really the type to open up quickly or even talk, but with y/n it was different. She was different. She was a breath of fresh air and that’s something Nanami needed in his life. Y/n made him feel at ease. He felt like he could talk to her without being judge, vice versa with her as well. Not only that Nanami always noticed y/n. She was very hot. But he thought she had a boyfriend, a girl like her was probably in a relationship. he was wrong like how you were.

“Alright I think that’s the last of it” Nanami typed the final words in and sent in an email to the boss. “thank you nanami I really appre-” you got cut off by a notification on your phone, making you both look down as your phone was placed in between you both. Giving Nanami access to see your phone clearly and so did you.

GOJO: haven’t seen you in a while, angel. can I see you tonight?

“boyfriend?” Nanami looked away from the phone to you. You looked at him at the same time, “no he’s just a friend”. Nanami raised his brow at you, he wasn’t convinced. “friends send each other those kin-” once again your phone rang and it was gojo again…

GOJO: [attachment image] (dick pic)

“Friends send each other those type of messages and pictures?” Nanami teased. You turned off your phone, “it’s not like that..” you sighed. “you’re not going to reply?” you shakes your head no, of course not why would you reply when your with the man who you’ve been dying to spend time with.

“I'm just too stressed to be dealing with him right now” you closed your computer. “I could help with that.” Nanami smirked and put his hands on your thighs “h-huh?” you stuttered in disbelief but as you turned your head a bit, all that you saw was the genuine expression on his features.

Although you weren't too familiar with Nanami all that well, you couldn’t help but feel sure that he wasn’t the type to play games. His serious demeanor combined with that smirk hinted at a depth you found irresistible.

“Y-You could help?” you echoed, your heart racing as his hand lingered on your thigh. It was a bold move, and you were torn between excitement and nerves.

“Just a little stress relief,” he said, his voice low, leaning slightly closer. “Sometimes we need more than just coffee to unwind.”

You swallowed hard, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was a desire that mirrored your own. “What do you have in mind?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, we could start by talking about what you really want,” he replied, brushing his thumb gently against your skin.

The heat radiating from his touch sent shivers down your spine. “I... I want to know you better,” you admitted, your heart pounding. “But I don’t want to complicate things.”

He leaned back slightly, giving you a searching look. “Complication can lead to something beautiful,” he said, his tone earnest. “And right now, I think we both need a break from this endless cycle of work.”

"I guess you could say that."

Nanami hummed at your word, his hand sliding a bit more up your thigh. you heart thumped against your chest and you were sure that if you released your body from it's tense state, it would beat right through your chest. "now," he began, making you look up at him, your eyes locked on each others.

"tell me your answer to my previous question, y/n."

"what i want?" you question. it seemed like you were making sure that you understood what he meant, but in actuality, you already knew. you just needed some kind of excuse to give yourself time to think and answer the question properly without making a complete fool of yourself. he nodded, sitting up properly in his seat.

"i just need a break from this project. that's all." you finally confessed. although it was the truth, it wasn't the entirety of it. "then lets take one. I'm sure thirty minutes won't hurt."

"just thirty?" you questioned, eyes widening at his next word. "what? you think it'll take longer for me to get you to feel good?" his fingertips finally grazed your clothed sex with a careful motion. your body jolted just barely, but with the way Nanami's gaze was on you, he of course noticed it.

"relax for me, sweetheart. this is supposed to help you feel better." he twisted his wrist slightly, allowing the pads of his middle and ring finger to press against your clothed bud. you let out a shaky breath and as he applied more pressure, the feeling only increased. "you know, there's a few people down the hall." he muttered, using his freehand to turn your chair so that you'd face him. "all had the same idea as us to stay after hours and finish up some work."

Nanami mentioned this on purpose. he knew where he wanted to get with this and you began to pick up on it too when he began massaging circular motions against your sensitive bud. "as much as i want to hear the beautiful sounds you make, you have to be quiet, okay?" he features softened and you so badly wanted to feel relaxed by it, but the more he continued, the harder you'd bite down on your bottom lip to suppress the slipping whimper.

you shook your head, holding his gaze and moving your hand to grip his wrist. "Nanami-" he only sped up his movements, and this time you couldn't help but let out an audible moan. the fabric of your panties only gave you more friction. his hands were skillful and heavy in a way that you couldn't even begin to explain. "that's going to be a problem, y/n." he spoke, his voice snapping you out of your small daze along with the fact that he stopped his movements.

"what is?" you asked, uneasy not just by his words, but his tone as well. he couldn't have just played you and decided against you guys' dangerous idea, right? that wasn't like Nanami, but when you thought deeper, you realized that maybe it was. afterall, you didn't know him all that well. "oh, don't sound so heartbroken sweetheart." he said, a small frown on his lips at your despairing expression.

"i-i'm sorry." you quickly said, shifting a bit to get out of his grasp, but he stopped you with a hand against the arm of your chair. "that's not it. you've got the wrong idea, y/n. i meant that you can't make such sounds. so loudly, at that."

confusion struck you just as hard as the realization. you weren't thinking straight at all. call it the stress, fatigue, or lust, but it was all scrambling your train of thought and it was obvious since you hadn't even noticed the fact that Nanami was guiding you to stand as he still sat. he pulled you closer to him, one of his knees making its way between your parted legs. "take a seat, sweetheart. I've got a solution to that vocal mouth of yours."

you followed his words and took a seat right on his thigh, your legs straddling either side. Nanami admired you deeply and lustfully, yet he was able to keep his composure. you on the other hand, couldn't help but grind down just a bit at the lack of attention that you needed in certain areas. Nanami quirked an eyebrow at your actions, and while you wanted to feel regret for your impatience, you couldn't.

it simply felt too good.

"please touch me again, Nanami." you muttered, the feeling of yearn coming to you when you glanced at his hand that rested against your thigh. he only lifted your skirt, pushing the item further up to reveal your clothed sex. "let's keep you quiet for a bit, okay?" he muttered, his freehand meeting with your nape to pull your face down closer to his. your lips met after a small pause and Nanami pulled you in in mere seconds.

this new position allowed you to press your bud against his thigh and for Nanami to use his other hand to reach around you and pulling your panties to the side. the tips of his digits traced up and down your slit, making you moan into his mouth. he retreated his fingers just as swiftly and planted both of his hands on your waist, firmly gripping your flesh as a sigh fell onto your tongue.

you parted your lips as his tongue slid against your own. he griding your sex against his thigh, using your hips to control your body. a whimper escaped from you but he devoured it just in time for it to only be muffled. "I've needed you for so long, y/n."

this caught you off guard. you could've never imagined that Nanami would think such a thing and better yet say it to you. "everyday you show up to work, i can't help but drive myself insane just by thinking about you." he groaned, firmly holding your hips in place as he pulled back to look down at his slacks.

the dampened area just beneath your sex sent a wave of embarrassment over you and Nanami only let out a strained groan as he adjusted the growing tent of his lap. "stay quiet and make a mess for me, yeah?" you nodded to his words. "can you use your fingers again, Nanami?" the question was laced with impatience. you missed the feeling of his digits and he knew that. he motioned with your panties, lifting you with ease to remove the now bothersome article of clothing.

"anything you need, sweetheart. the purpose of this is to take some of that stress off of you afterall." Nanami wasted no time to guide his fingers to your sex, slowly inserting his fingers as you leaned forward to let out a moan into his shoulder. he withdrew them once before inserting them again. each time felt better than the last and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him as he pleased you better than you could even imagine.

you had a strong attraction to Nanami and it's lasted for weeks now. you'd always have theses fantasies about him whether you wanted to or not and neither of them could beat the standard that he was setting. "can't wait to feel you around me, sweetheart." his voice was low, rugged, and you could tell that his patience was slipping. if yours could be slipping and you were the center of his attention, you couldn't imagine how much he was holding back right now.

you saw the strain of his slacks. the way the material showed no mercy to hide the outline of his erection. "we don't have to wait." you finally spoke, pushing yourself up to hold his gaze. "please." you pled, using your hand to cup his jaw. he tried to read your expression, but the lust overpowered everything else.

you reached for his belt, undoing it and following that by unpinning the button of his slacks. in a swift movement, you pulled away his pants and his briefs, the last drop of patience leaving your being at the sight of him. you shifted when Nanami removed his fingers from your sex and in an attempt to finally get what you both wanted, you were stopped by Nanami as he grabbed your hand that was reaching for his length. "patience, sweetheart. take it slow. i don't want to hurt you."

"i can take it. please, Nanami." you couldn't count how many times that word had left your mouth tonight. Nanami gave you everything you asked for, yet you couldn't help but want more. all of him. despite your words, he knew that lust could be blinding so he shook his head, tone stern now. "slowly, y/n." he said.

a small pout was on you lips and he reached his hand up to your face, using his thump to swipe away your messed lip-gloss. "don't give me that look, sweetheart. i know you can take it. I'm not going anywhere until you feel satisfied so there's no rush." you nodded at his reassurance and he placed a supported hand underneath your thigh, helping you balance a bit better.

you kept yourself up on your knees as he gripped his length in a fist, holding your gaze as his tip prodded your entrance. he gently released your thigh just a bit, allowing you to sink down to engulf him with your warmth. he let out a moan through panting breaths, the thought of the people just down the hall leaving both of you guys' mind.

you let out a swear at the entirely new feeling and Nanami gently gripped your jaw so that you'd face him and hold his lustful gaze. he lowered you to sink down on him, both his and your lips parting as you let out a moan of pleasure. "you're so perfect like this, sweetheart." he managed to get out, his eyes admiring the way all of his length disappeared into your sex. he felt pure bliss and you clearly felt the same, given the way that your loudening whimpers began to heighten.

"yeah, you're handling it so well." he groaned as she tightened around him. Nanami help her hips, aiding her in riding him since she was too overstimulated to continue on her own. "so much." you mumbled as you leaned in to place a kiss to his jawline. he sighed from the action of affection and y/n began letting out smooth moans as he slowly lifted you from his length before your skin met with his lap once again.

"make a mess for me, sweetheart. i want to see how good I'm making you feel." he encouraged. you used whatever remains of energy you had to grind against him as you slick began to pool at the base of his erection. he gave you more, and like you have been when it comes to Nanami, all you could think was more. he knew this. he felt it in the way your movements sped up and heightened in incoordination.

he allowed it to happen for a period of time, but immediately stopped you when your moans grew. the whine that left your mouth came straight from your chest, making Nanami feel guilt immediately. "Nanami, why'd you stop? please don't stop." you whined, voice sounding like a broken cry. "i have to, sweetheart. you'll cum if i keep going and i can't have that because i want to taste you when you do."

with that, he quickly lifted you both from his seat and placed you to take his pace instead. he groaned as his length left the warmth of your sex. before you could retaliates, his knees met with the office's carpet and he wrapped both of his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs parted before he leaned in, his lips wrapping around your bud in seconds. a pleasureful whine escaped from your chest and his tongue gathered your arousal, the sweet taste urging him to grip his length with a desperate fist. he groaned into your sex and he placed a stripe of your own arousal against your bud.

his lips latched around the sensitive area as his tongue showed you no messy despite your cries and pleas. you were getting what you wanted which was more.

"Nanami i-i'm-" your breath hitched in your throat. your legs threated to close around his head but he was firm with his grip, holding you in place. "close?" he finished your sentence. "i know. cum on my tongue, sweetheart. please."

without another beat, you did just that, your arousal coating his tongue in just mere seconds. your body jolted and shivered against him and Nanami continued past your limits. your moans filled the room and Nanami released an arm form around your thigh and used his hand to grip his length, moaning as he brought himself to his own high. his cum spurted onto the fabric of his slacks and onto his thigh.

your panting breaths were in quiet harmony with one another and you glanced at Nanami with a dazed expression. he stood up, checking the watch on his wrist before leaning down to your face.

"we made good time, sweetheart. thirty minute break was well spent."

all credits go to @leahrintarou & @satorusluvrgirl :D

Taglist: @nemoo888 @delicatexmoonchild @flowerpjimin @tedcruzumakii @sugacor3 @selysixn @mitsuyas-version @matchaismylove @cyberrthegreat @ivydoesit23 @riririntaro @ilovechickfilasauce @sincerelyzee @daydreamteardrop @satorusluvrgirl @tired-jaz

[rainychaoloveshack]

when you have the chance and burnout stops being a bitch, can you do sonic or scourge x a mermaid girlfriend? I’m okay with both headcannons and story stuff.

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ “𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡-𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐬”.  𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠 & 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic and scourge have a secret mermaid lover, set right in their cove.

synopsis. sonic and scourge x gn!mermaid!reader, reader’s a little worrywart, reader might also be a little “animalistic”, teasing, smoking, fluff

☂︎ wc. around 600 each drabble. ☂︎ a/n. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!!!! this was super duper fun to write! i know the OG request said "girlfriend", but i found as i was writing it i hadn't mentioned pronouns at all. sorry if that's upsetting :( also sorry this took so long! i had originally made it some HC’s, but i thought some drabbles would fit better ;)

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

Sonic

You keep on telling Sonic not to talk with his mouth full, but he just doesn’t listen, does he? What if he chokes? Oh…

“Mmfh-” Sonic grumbles out between a mouthful of fish, waving away your concerned gesture with a small smile. Another assortment of grumbles follow, before he finally swallows his food and looks over at you with bright eyes. “Aw man, don’t worry, I’ll be fine!”

Hmph. You take a small piece of fish off the plate you two prepared for each other, popping the piece in your mouth as your tail slaps onto the shore.

After coming back from one of his adventures, Sonic had always come to visit you in your cove, always excited to see and hear what you’ve been up to in his absence, though it was never much. He was the only exciting thing in your life as of late. To lighten things up for you two, and to introduce him to your sea-like cuisine, a picnic was the only option to have, no?

He introduced you to this dish called a “chili dog”, one of, if not, his favorite dish of all time.

For good reason, too. It was delicious. 

You lay your body down, resting your head in your arms as you look up at your boyfriend, watching him stuff himself silly with a chili dog he brought.

“Mmfg, [Name],” he says, muffled through his chewing, and you scowl. “Next time, let’s-” What did you just say about that? 

“Ah, okay, okay! I’m sorry!” Sonic laughs, relishing at the attention you’re giving him with your tail as you splash him with small amounts of water rising to the shore, watching every small droplet cling onto his quills and seep into his fur. “Aw man, you really like to mess with me, huh?” Sonic slips the last bit of his chili dog into his mouth, stuffing his cheeks with the meal. Ah, he looks a little bit like a chipmu-

Suddenly, a burst of water hits your face harshly, and as you try to open your eyes to your assailant, he hits you again, making you utter a small stream of curses his way.

“Doesn’t feel too great, huh?” Sonic laughs, swallowing the last bit of his food as you slap your tail angrily at the shore, splashing small bits of water around. “Or maybe it does for you? Y’know, the whole mermaid gist.” This little idiot.

“Aw, c’mon, you know I’m joking.” Sonic grins, reaching over to rub your cheek affectionately as you nip at his thumb, pulling the glove aggressively. Stupid, stupid, stupid silly hedgehog…

He seems to pause, opening his mouth to say something, yet nothing comes out. Sonic’s eyes soften as you stop nipping at his thumb, curious to what he has to say.

“One day, I’ll get you out of this cove, alright? Really.” He says to you, holding your other hand in his as his thumb rubs over your fingers. “I promise. I’ll take you with me everywhere; on all sorts of adventures. You’ll be able to see all the cool things I see, and meet all kinds of people!” Your brows wrinkle, yet an unstoppable smile spreads on your face as you nod at his statement. 

Oh, to get out of here, and see the world with him…

What a dream.

“I promise I’ll make that dream come true.”

Scourge

“Hey, fish-sticks.” A shiver crawls up your spine at the sudden voice, turning to see who it is, although you already know the answer. Ugh. What the hell did you tell him about that name?

“What?” Scourge sees the frown on your face and grins, sitting down at a small rock ledge as you swim your way over to him, making sure to splash some water his way to show your dissatisfaction at his late arrival.  

He groans in annoyance, staring at you. “Ya don’t want me here all of a sudden?” It’s already dusk; he should’ve been here hours ago.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry ‘bout that, fish-cakes.” He mutters, shaking some water off his jacket, and wiping it off his quills. You watch him take off his red sunglasses, looking down at you curiously as you come up to the little ledge of water separating you two, flashing you that sharp, cheeky grin of his.

Ugh, this idiot…

You grumble incoherently, scratching at the rock ledge, spitting curses at him while he takes a seat, crossing his legs as he shuffles into his jacket pocket, pulling out a familiar box he’s taken out almost every time you two meet. Full of cigarettes; yuck.

“I won’t blow it yer way.” He takes a cigarette out of the pack, digging into his other pocket to pull out a small matchbox. The match strikes alight on the first swipe, and he holds the cigarette to his mouth, slowly letting it burn right at the bottom. Scourge almost dips the match into the water to extinguish it, but he catches your curious expression.

“Oh, yeah. Yer kind don't get to mess with fire.” His hand holds the lit match your way, letting you observe said flame slowly, and twisting it in between his thumb and index finger.

“Don’t know ya find this stuff interestin’. Weird one, aren’cha? You’ve seen it before already.” Despite his words, he seems pleased at your curiosity, careful not to let water drip onto it as he holds it closer. If only you could just…

“Ah,” he flinches the match back, away from your grasp, making you tilt your head in confusion. “Can’t let’cha do that.”

Why won’t he let you touch it? He always blows it out before you can grab it. You grumble, making another grabbing motion towards the lit match, accidentally splattering water over it. You let out a frustrated groan, sinking back down into the water, streams of bubbles forming around your mouth as you grumble, flicking your tail angrily.

“Tough luck, fish-sticks. Almost outta matches too.” He grins at your displeased gesture, bits of water flicking his way as he shows you the almost empty matchbox, two matches set snug against each other, then separating as he rattles it around. Scourge pauses, looking at you in silence for a few moments.

“... Maybe ya would like a candle. How bout’ that?” A candle? You turn your head at his suggestion, peering up as he draws in more smoke from his cigarette, blowing it out as he meets your eyes. “Think you’d like one, yeah? Have a little flame you can keep around.”

Your own personal fire…

You grin, setting your arms onto the ledge as you pull up, turning to tackle your boyfriend down into a soggy cuddle, tail slapping happily against the water.

“Agh-!” He scowls, the cigarette dropping out of his mouth and rolling into the water. “Damn it, fish-face. Get off me!” Scourge glares at you, but it doesn’t take a genius to notice how his hands aren’t pushing you off in any manner, and you take the golden chance to wrap your arms around him, taking extra care to not prick yourself on his quills.

“Damn, the shit I do and handle for ya. Getting my jacket all wet…”

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

Chapter 3.

1 2 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

'Slight' Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader.

Arranged marriage AU.

SOME SPOILERS FROM THE NOVEL

Warnings: Maria once again being a creep and sadist, mention of the reader becoming a ‘toy’ (aka being experimented on, abused, losing all her human rights), Dion is most likely out of character, some things are conveniently there, the yandere themes will show up eventually just not now. I should probably add ‘Yandere! Dion’ to the other chapters. Probably. Edit cuz I completely forgot hahahahajajajajaja: one (1) mention of incest. Please tell me if I missed anything else I'm so tired I only slept 3 hours I do recommend doing that

Slightly edited.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and/or dangerous actions/behaviors that take place in this piece of FICTION. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

This blog writes and interacts with DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT REBLOG FANART/FANFICTION DNI.

Chapter summary: teatime with your mother-in-law(s)… how wonderful. But Maria makes a strange comment on her son that has you overthinking.

Word count: 3041k

===

The greenhouse was beautiful, all kinds of flowers adding color, the lush green bushes making it look peaceful. Butterflies that flutter around, the bees that pollinate, the birds that chirp – so peaceful. The warm ray of the sun keeps your skin warm. The weather was perfect.

“You know… I just couldn’t see Dion with anyone. That boy shows no interest in anything – but I’m curious to see how this plays out. Although if you ask me, I think he should be grateful to get such a beautiful wife such as yourself!” Maria claps her hands as she praises you.

Yes. The weather was perfect. But being cornered and held hostage by Maria Agriche under the pretense of teatime was not. The blasted woman found you not even an hour after your bath – truly a morning person. The worst part was that it’s been two hours since she dragged you into her little game.

“Don’t you agree, Sierra?” The woman in question looks at Lant’s third wife timidly. Her deep blue eyes filled with both pity directed at you, and fear for her well-being glances at you. Her honey blond hair practically floats with the wind. She looks back at Maria.

“Yes, of course.” Then she looks back at you.

“Please don’t hesitate to ask us for help.” Hah. Funny, especially when her eyes are silently begging for it. But you’re in the same spot as she is – unable to escape. You’re just happy you don’t have a child. Yet.

You repress the cold shiver that attempts to crawl up your spine.

“Oh, thank you…” how should you address them as? Sierra wasn’t technically your mother-in-law… but Maria was. Sierra catches on before Maria does.

“Oh, you can call me Sierra. After all, it’s Maria that’s your mother-in-law, if we consider that Dion, is her biological son.” A forced smile tugs at her lips. The short haired brunette stares at her favorite person in awe.

“Oh my, Sierra!” she coos before turning her attention towards you. Unfortunately, her smile was genuine. Like she didn’t force both of you victims to have tea with her. You take a sip from your cup, hiding your frown. And then, you smile.

“Thank you, Sierra and mother-in-law.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. Anything for my precious, beautiful daughter-in-law!” she chirps. Her purple eyes shine brightly as she offers you more tea. You accept, watching as she personally pours it. Part of you do hope that’s it’s poisoned – maybe just enough to keep you bedridden with a stomachache for a day or two.

Which would mean that most likely, no one would be allowed near you. Well, maybe.

“Do tell me if Dion bothers you at all. He means well, but… he can be too much, at times. Oh! If you ever get lonely, feel free to find me – these kids get so busy.” She props her elbows on the table, resting her hands on the back of her hands. Like a curious child she observes you, gauging your reaction.

Your legs are begging you to run. You resist the urge to flip the table over and run for the hills; she would just kill you once she catches you.

Or turn you into a toy.

“Thank you again, mother-in-law. But I’m sure that we’ll get along fine.” You’re smiling on the outside but you’re screaming and crying mentally. You’re caught by surprise when her white gloved hands carefully reach across the small table to grab yours gently.

“You’re sweet… truly, I’m happy that Lant picked you to be our son’s wife.” Her beauty is breathtaking, pale skin and soft hair, her hat casting a shadow over her face. But it does little to hide that hint of sadistic pleasure in her eyes. You already knew she was a sadist and mental.

But you failed to realize that she would add you to her list of favorite targets until now. Mulling over it, you think that this could be helpful – maybe like with Sierra, she would guard you like a dog. However, that would also mean she would drag you around like a doll. And if she ever got bored of you…

“Oh, are you cold?” She feels how your hands tremble. Right. You shouldn’t think of such things right now. Not in front of her.

“Ah, sorry mother-in-law… I was just excited to meet you so quickly after the wedding. We didn’t get to talk much during the engagement party nor at the wedding ceremony.” You lie, and part of you knows that she’ll only take it as half-truth. Still, her smile twists into something warm yet sinister.

You’re her new prey.

“I’m happy about that too. But my, those events must have left you tired.” She ‘comforts’ you, squeezing your hands before releasing them. They tingle coldly.

“Yes… I never thought that they could be so busy and complicated.” From out of the corner of your eye you notice Sierra busying herself with a slice of cake. She mentally checked out. Oh, how you wish you could do the same.

“Mm, but it was exciting, wasn’t it?”

Exciting? How would she know? She didn’t even want to marry Lant in the first place – she only stayed for Sierra. If you’re remembering correctly from spoilers anyway. Fuck, you wished you finished the entire series.

“It was… different from how I imagined. From the novels I read and what I was told by some relatives, I thought it would have been a breeze. But it was exciting.” Just in a horrible way you mentally add. This woman probably knows your true thoughts so why state them.

Still, you should play the role of a ‘loving’ daughter-in-law.

“Dion,” she starts while pressing her lips against the rim of her teacup, “helped a bit with the preparations. Not much, just with the little things… specific things.”

“What?”

With the way she smiles, it’s clear that she’s enjoying how baffled you are. But forget that – Dion? Help? With wedding preparations?

All she does is grin before changing the subject.

Sierra exchanges a look with you but leaves it be.

---

Your legs give out the moment the bedroom door shuts behind you. Hana went to get you something once she escorted you back to your room. You forgot what though.

“Ah… I thought it’d never end…” you slump against the door, worn and torn. How long was that hostage situation? Three hours? Four?

You need to work on a plan to avoid Maria. Otherwise, her gossip and sadistic tendencies will be the death of you. You’ll die before Dion can even hold a sword against your throat.

“Husband, husband… mother-in-law, husband… which one is worse…” your thumb becomes victim to biting. “The mother-in-law…? She is the reason, well, one of them… I feel bad but I probably shouldn’t…” you mumble to yourself.

“But my husband is also…shit, I’m so fucked….” Is this how Roxana felt? Hopeless and weak? Unlike you, however, she was able to adapt quickly. And unlike her, you weren’t one to stay strong under pressure. Not to that degree. You’re not sure if you ever will be.

Thud, thud

Banging the back of your head against the door seems like a sane choice. Maybe you’ll wake up from this nightmare. Yeah, that’s it! This is just a nightmare. If you hit your head enough, you’ll wake up from it. You’ll wake up in your nice, fluffy bed. It’ll be your eighteen birthday and instead of being told about a fiancé you’ll be told that… you don’t know.

Think (Name), think. There must be something you could conjure up in your mind that could overwrite this nightmare. Something. Anything!

Creak

You fall backwards as the door opens, head landing against something warm and firm. You look up only to see crimson eyes that’s emptier than a void.

“Oh,” you blink up at your husband, “we-welcome…back?” You question rather than greet. He’s like a statue, only looking down at you. He doesn’t move, simply gazes at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You’re not sure if you want to.

“Wife.”

At Dion’s words you suddenly remember where you were – his room.

You scramble to your feet, tripping once before dusting yourself off to make yourself presentable. Doing a curtsy, you greet him properly. Your head hangs for longer than necessary; you don’t want to see his face nor for him to see the look of fear in your eyes. Cold sweat forms on your temples and you hope he doesn’t notice.

Honestly, you’re surprised to see him. You thought he would avoid you, seeing it as unnecessary to interact with you.

Or maybe he didn’t expect to run into you here. Either way, as you look up at him, you can’t help but wish you would drop dead. To be woken up by your brother shaking you, like the little shit he is. To smell the coffee your mother would make for the dead tired servants.

“I heard you had tea with mother.” He walks past you, causing you to quickly face him. No brush of the shoulders. No questioning why you were sitting on the ground like a dog. Not even a glance is thrown your way.

“Y-yes,” you shouldn’t stutter. Probably. “It was…” nice? Horrible? Exciting or boring? “…a unique experience.” You answer, fiddling with your hair. That should be a neutral response. You decide to keep quiet about what Maria had told you – that he helped with some of the preparations.

Most likely, she lied about it to see your reaction.

Dion doesn’t say anything else. Just goes the closet and slip off his shirt to change into a new one. Your cheeks feel warm as you look away, bashful. Now was not the time to admire his muscles. Rather, now was the time to excuse yourself and come back once the coast was clear.

Now that you think about it… where would you even go? There were too many twists and turns, with insane, awful and bestial people. What if you ran into one of his many siblings? Or another wife that decided you were a weak little thing they could get their hands on?

Or worse yet, run into Lant? The realization of how alone and weak you are, has your fingers pulling at your hair. Are you safer here after all? With Dion Agriche? The most brutal of all siblings?

Well, you are his wife… but that doesn't mean he won’t dispose of you. More so if he really did take after his father as others said. He did in the series, you think, but everything was turned on it’s fucking head. You don’t know what to expect anymore.

“Mother enjoys playing with the weak,” Dion informs you as he walks past you, glancing at you over his shoulder. You can’t breathe. “So, I suggest you don’t show weakness.” He leaves you like that. You watch as he closes the door behind him, silent. It was all you could do.

Voice caught in your throat and heart threatening to burst out your chest, his advice replays in your head. Yes, you knew that. But you’re unsure why he made the choice to warn you. He had no reason to. Wife or not, he showed no interest in you – maybe he had a good day today. Felt generous.

As generous as he could be. If so, you pitied Roxana – he probably ran into her and annoyed her. It probably made his day, too. It was the only thing that you could think of.

Your lungs release the deep sigh you didn’t know you were holding. Body finally relaxing, your legs give out on you. Again. The tile is hard and hurts your knees. Will they bruise?

You should work on this. You’ll lose the use of your legs and knees if you don’t. …maybe you should find and talk to Roxana.

No. She won’t help you. Even if you tell her everything, she might pull some strings and get rid of you, not wanting to take a chance. Not willing to have you accidentally have a slip of the tongue.

Funny. The only hope of your salvation will likely see you as a nuisance. To be fair, you can’t and won't blame her – you held no importance in this family. Lant is probably looking for a new wife for Dion this very second. Why stop at one wife?

“Haaaah… why couldn’t I be reincarnated into something like…’The Otaku Love Connection,’ or ‘Positively Yours,’… at least I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells and worry about dying…or tortured…” you lament, trying your best not to fall apart. If you were going to be reincarnated as a character that shouldn’t exist, couldn’t you at least be away from the main and side stories?

Away from all the action. Just living a peaceful life. That’s all you’re asking for.

The again, you probably don’t deserve that… not after…

“…No use in thinking about the past. I guess God is making me pay my dues,” you force yourself to stand. Your legs may be wobbly, but you can’t keep acting like this. Sure, some of your in-laws may leave you alone once they realize you pose no threat; however, that doesn’t go for everyone.

Once everyone sees that Dion holds no interest in you, good or bad, some will dig their claws into you. Especially Fontaine. That creep… he’s worse than Dion with certain things. Like incest.

No, no, no! You shouldn’t just assume that about Dion! Sure, the vibe he gives off in the series is… questionable. But-!

Knock, knock.

You jump, startled. Hana must be back. With what, you absolutely have no idea. You had checked out mentally by the time you escaped the clutches of Maria.

“My lady, I have brough you the indigestion medicine, as Lady Sierra had requested.” Her statement puzzles you before you feel some warmth spread throughout your chest. She’s sweet. Too sweet.

You feel horrible for her but even worse for her children.

You push the thought away.

You force yourself onto your feet.

“Come in.” you order, praying that Hana didn’t hear the crack in your voice. One breath, two breaths, your lungs work overtime to ensure you keep breathing. It hurts, like you’re being stabbed from the inside. You need to work through the pain.

Fuck, you need to work through the pain if you want a fighting chance to survive here. Maybe make it out if you’re lucky.

Hana comes into the room, holding a tray of water and a small white pouch of medicine. Doubt starts to swirl inside you. How could you be sure that Sierra was the one who sent this? What if it was Maria playing a ‘prank,’ to see your crying face?

Man, why did you zone out during the last ten minutes of that damn get-together.

She walks closer until she’s barely a foot away. You take the medicine with wariness, unable to reject it in front of the maid. Her eyes are glued to you. Expecting you to accept this so-called ‘medicine’ without hesitance. And so, you do.

You can feel the pills go down your throat, the water barely helping. When you place the near empty glass down onto the tray, Hana bows before taking her leave with your permission. Again, the door shuts. Only for her to come back immediately afterwards.

Great, just great.

“My lady, I forgot to tell you… I’ll be helping you get ready around six.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Dinner with Master Dion. I’ll come back here and there; forgive me for not staying near your side for the entire day. As for now, I am not your personal maid yet.” So, Hana is going to be your personal maid. But why isn’t she right now?

How strange.

Wait. Maybe this is a good thing – you’ll be alone for quite a bit. Away from preying eyes. Maybe you could conjure up a plan on how to survive this hellhole.

“It’s fine, Hana,” a sweet smile as you clasp your hands together, ‘understanding’ of her position. “I’m grateful and happy that you will be checking on me regardless of.” Hopefully you seem sweet enough. Genuine despite everything being faked.

She looks at you oddly. In the end she just bows her head before leaving.

“…I think I’m going to die from stress before anyone gets to me…” dragging your feet, you sluggishly fall face first onto the made bed. Your feet are begging to be released from the torture device that is your heels; so, you kick them off. Huffing, you proceed to climb further onto the bed till your feet also rest on the mattress.

It’s soft and smells nice.

It smells like your bed back at home, oddly enough.

‘Dion…helped a bit with the preparations. Not much, just with the little things… specific things.”

“…What did that witch mean by that…?” Maria’s words come to mind the longer the scent engraved itself into your nose and mind. “She must be joking,” you muse, letting your eyes flutter shut.

But… things are starting to get a bit creepy.

Your eyes open. The longer you think about it, the gears turn in your head.

First, the shampoo. Sure, it was a popular brand, but you doubt your husband wanted to go around smelling like lavender. His… victims would smell him instantly if he used the product. The smell was more subtle than strong, but it would be best not to take any chances. Now, the bed.

It smelt like fucking citrus. Bergamot oranges to be exact, the same smell your bed has.

 You shake your head. It was just a coincidence – cirtcus smells were known to keep the bedbugs away. And as for the shampoo… maybe Maria sent it. As a wedding gift, probably. That or she didn’t want you to smell like him.

Either or neither, it shouldn’t matter. You’re just overthinking this. The insanity that takes over this mansion is just stressing you out. It would only make sense that you overthink about common scents.

“…I wonder if I’ll be allowed to write to my family…”

With that, your eyes flutter close. Everything turns back and sound is no longer a thing.

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐰

pairing. xiao x fem!reader

word count. 4.7k

genre/warnings. royal!au, magic!au, heavy angst, major character death, reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

summary.

Your fingers intertwine with his. “I know, Xiao. I know.” He wonders if you really do know. He wonders if you know that he only remembers what it feels like to exist—to be—when you’re looking at him. He wonders if you understand that he would trade his life for yours in a heartbeat, that even since becoming familiar with power and status and things finer than he deserves, all he’s ever wanted is you. All he’ll ever want is you.

It’s become something of a routine.

In the dead of night, you creep across the thick carpet of your room, skirts sliding against fur, until you reach the heavy wood of your door. The thing had always had a wicked creak to it, but you’ve since mastered the art of opening it silently; years of practice had done you some good. It swings open easily enough, revealing the empty hallway to your squinted eyes.

“Xiao,” you murmur through the crack. A soft silver light spills into your room, courtesy of the small magical bulbs lining the halls that invite a lustrous glow into the castle. You’d asked Guizhong to have those installed a few years ago after you saw her displaying her abilities in the courtyard. She’d laughed, finding it ridiculous that a Wizard Sovereign was being given such a mundane task, but indulged you anyway.

The young yaksha responds quickly to your call of his name, as he always does. He bounds down the hallway in seconds, stuttering to a stop in front of your door.

You’ve always liked the way his spear looks at his side; viridescent as it is, it casts a lovely glow on his pale skin and dark hair, illuminating the brighter streaks in a way you find quite beautiful. Even in the low light, mixed silver and green, he looks handsome enough for your heartbeat to quicken. He peeks one golden eye through the door, curious and vigilant.

“What is it?”

“Come in, please.”

Xiao hesitates where he stands; he’s supposed to be patrolling the halls right now, and he just happened to find himself pacing back and forth in the area of the castle where your room is located. He surely can’t justify going off-duty without reason, even if it is by your command.

“Just come in,” you repeat with a bit of a whine at his silence, returning to your seat on the bed and patting a spot on the edge. “They won’t catch you. If they do, I’ll tell them I heard noises and asked you to check.”

“You used that excuse last time,” he says, giving you a disapproving look and leaning his weight against his spear. You smile.

“I hear a lot of noises.”

And Xiao knows he can’t win against you, so he merely sighs before sneaking a glance down the hallway and slipping inside your room. The door shuts silently; over the years, he has also gotten quite a bit of practice on avoiding that characteristic creak. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, though his spear never leaves his side.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. It’s common that you ask him inside, sure, but you never look so perturbed about it. 

“I don’t know, something just feels off tonight,” you admit, fingers curling into your silk sheets. “Can you feel something?” He stares at you blankly. “With your, uhm, power?”

The question is so ridiculous that Xiao snorts, the first sign that his serious facade is melting, slow like candle wax, and your presence is the flame. “I’m a wizard, not a fortune teller.”

“The castle feels quite empty today. I heard Zhongli and much of the guard is away on business.”

Xiao nods, having been made aware of the expedition. He had been invited, but had rejected the offer in favor of staying here to protect you—not that he’d listed that as the official reason, of course, but he certainly kept it in mind. 

“You still have nothing to worry about,” he replies gruffly, observing how you gnaw at your lip, “two of the Wizard Sovereigns are still here, as well as the other yakshas and…”

He trails off, suddenly feeling awkward. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noting how the tips of his ears flush pink. It’s infuriatingly cute.

“And you?” you finish with a smirk, nudging at his side. He flinches, looking away in embarrassment. Truthfully, he can’t understand the sudden rush of heat to his face—protecting you is his job, after all, so there should be no shame in admitting that.

“I suppose.”

You decide not to tease him about his flustered state for once, instead glancing out the window. The moon rises high in the sky, loose rays scattering through the curtains and contrasting the dark sky. 

“The moon must look so beautiful from the Harbor,” you note absently. Your hand reaches for Xiao’s, and though his face burns in embarrassment, he doesn’t flinch away even when your fingers fall over his. Instead, he allows you this moment of silence; he knows you’re thinking about the civilians of the Harbor, as you always are.

You and your family are quite beloved among the people; whenever Xiao accompanies you on excursions to the Harbor and around the market, you’re greeted with starry eyes and wide grins filled with affection. Admittedly, Xiao had tried his hardest to keep them away at first with a fierce glare, but you merely placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and told him it was alright—you want to see them, talk to them, get to know their lives. You adore your people as they do you.

The room grows quiet as you fall deeper into thought, and Xiao is overcome by the desire to ask what you’re thinking. He’s not good with words, nor is he good at comfort or anything of the sort, but he’s willing to battle whatever demons are intruding on your calm mind.

“Can you…do the thing?”

He has to suppress a laugh at the way you call magic—the art he’s spent years learning and endless blood, sweat, and tears mastering—the thing, but he indulges you regardless. He dips a hand into his pocket, producing a Qingxin flower that he will never admit he carries around for this very purpose. As his fingertips glow with the magic streaming through his body, your expression glows with awe, only growing brighter when the flower’s stem curls and spreads at the edges, popping new blooms until an entire bouquet is held within his hands. 

And though Xiao usually hates when humans ask him for frivolous entertainment, he doesn’t mind doing it for you. He thinks you’re the most beautiful when you’re like this, all star-dotted eyes and soft smiles, so he’ll do whatever magic you want until he has nothing left.

“Wow, Xiao!” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down even though your hands clap quite loudly. “Your magic is always so beautiful…it must be so difficult.”

His lips press into a half-smile. “It’s not hard at all. Very basic manipulation.”

His fingers curl around the flowers again and they glow golden, rippling at the edges until they explode upwards into a small shower of sparks. They disperse like tiny stars among your high ceiling, and your jaw drops in delight.

“Do more, do more!” you request excitedly, hands falling over Xiao’s. He gulps.

“I don’t have any more flowers,” he replies a bit unevenly, showing you his empty pockets. As a yaksha, he’d feel a bit stupid carrying a pocket full of flowers instead of weapons, but the look on your face makes him regret that decision.

“There are some just outside, can’t you go pick more?”

And he really shouldn’t, he thinks, even as he slips outside to the courtyard, but he just can’t say no to you. The night air bites—he pulls his cloak tighter around himself, slinking into the garden. There are countless flora and fauna here, the kind that burst in the day and the kind that bloom quietly in the dark. You like to spend your days here often, reading or asking Xiao to tell you stories. His eyes fall upon the Qingxin, a small patch at the edge—your favorite.

He only manages to pick one flower before a deafening blast bursts from the castle, the ground rumbling under his feet. In surprise, his gaze whips over his shoulder in time to see the beginnings of smoke rising from somewhere around the Great Hall. It filters up slowly, clinging to the clouds and easing a sense of foreboding into Xiao’s heart.

“What the hell…” he murmurs to himself, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Yaksha, sir!”

Xiao turns to see another guard—Donghai, he thinks his name is—stumbling out of the castle, blood staining his cloak and leaking through the front of his uniform. One dully glowing hand is pressed to a deep wound in his stomach, but it’s not enough magic to heal it properly.

The guard nearly collapses at the yaksha’s feet, a broken sob ripping through his throat as Xiao catches him by the arm. Up close, there are even more gashes criss-crossed across his face, crimson dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“What’s going on?” Xiao demands, shaking him by the shoulders a bit to get his attention. His eyes are growing hazy, focus fading like water slipping through fingers.

“We…trap. Inside the castle,” Donghai wheezes, struggling for breath. He coughs once, splattering Xiao’s arms with blood. “Monsters.”

A hot, searing pain like sharp claws rakes through Xiao’s chest, slicing his heart to ribbons and dropping its remnants at his feet. He sets Donghai in the grass, harshly barking at a shell-shocked guard standing nearby to administer healing. He doesn’t stay to see whether they follow his order or not, instead sprinting through the palace gates.

Chaos swirls before his eyes.

The castle is flooded with carnage, beasts growling as they roam the halls and survivors dragging themselves into corners to fade away in the dark. The expensive carpets and draperies have been torn to shreds, walls splattered with blood and dusted with burn marks. The air seeps with darker magic so dense that he feels like he’s choking on it. Xiao doesn’t know where to start—there’s too many screams, too much chaos, too much—

You.

He has to start with you. He should always start with you.

Jumping into the fray feels as natural as breathing. He’s spent his whole life learning to fight, fighting to survive, fighting to protect. But the magic drains from his body at a pace so fast that it’s abnormal—he’s fighting with his heart, not his mind. Lightning flashes of green seep from his skin as he cuts down monster after monster, jumping and plunging and slicing through the air. The monsters are more vicious today; a claw catches Xiao in the back, and he slams into the stone wall, the air being knocked from his lungs.

He crumples, crawls to his knees, coughs, then rises again.

In order to defeat monsters, you must become one yourself.

As he runs past the throne room, he tries to ignore the ugly tear through the royal family’s portrait, the canvas split directly across your smiling face. He doesn’t want to entertain the implication in his mind.

“Princess!” he screams, letting his throat grow raw with despair. The air inside the castle is burning, and he doesn’t have the magic left to cast the proper spell to dispel the heat—it’s all he can do to stay alive as is. Flames roar and lick at his skin as he advances further. He rips his cloak off, pressing the fabric to his nose to subdue the thick smoke filling his lungs.

Something worth keeping is something worth dying for.

Silvery spots of light dot through the grayish darkness, and Xiao follows them. He knows this hall, knows it by heart because it’s your hall. His fingers brush along stone walls as he fumbles to find your door; when he meets wood, he immediately shoves it open.

Hell greets him like an old friend. 

/

Xiao staggers out of the castle minutes later, thoroughly beaten and a fresh scar seared into his right arm. He doesn’t want to look at it right now, though—can’t look at it right now, because there’s so much to be attending to. People moaning for help and crying for their lives, laid out in the singed grass of the castle courtyard. There are medics running about, some from the guard and some he doesn’t recognize. But Xiao has nothing left to give. He can’t save them; he can’t save anyone.

He stumbles forward, one foot after the other, limbs getting caught in the scraps of his shredded cloak. Something small and white falls from his pocket, floating to the ground in a heap of dirt.

A Qingxin flower. It starts to scatter with the wind; Xiao hisses a breath between his teeth.

“No,” he whispers, dropping to his knees and scraping the petals together like a madman. The soft white forms a small pool in front of him, though his fingernails cake with dirt and his body burns with overuse.

“No, no, no,” he repeats like a mantra. He’s already collected the remnants of the flower, but it’s not enough—tears and darkness blur his vision at the edges, and he’s still tearing at the grass with reckless abandon. Someone’s calling his name, he thinks, or maybe his mind is already frayed at the edges. Either way, he ignores it in favor of gathering the flower in his quivering palms, closing his hands around it gently. He’ll keep this safe, if nothing else.

His vision loses focus, and the last thing he sees is the ground shooting toward his face.

/

When Xiao wakes up, it is morning, and the dawn brings a world so different that he doesn’t recognize it at all.

The stiff cot he was placed on feels like sandpaper to his bones—they groan in protest as he moves, urging himself to sit up. It takes a few minutes before he can wobble to his feet; by the time he manages it, a sporadic pain starts to stab into his head, raw and pulsing. A royal messenger bounds up to his side, eyes narrowed as they read robotically from the scroll in their hands. With every word they speak, Xiao’s shoulders feel heavier. Maybe he should have stayed asleep. Maybe he should’ve forgotten.

The entire royal family was killed in the chaos. The other four yakshas are also dead, having been attacked first when the monsters invaded the castle. No one can explain how they had appeared inside, no one can explain why, no one can explain any of it—it was just a senseless, horrifying massacre. He has been dismissed from his position as yaksha, and is to vacate the castle effective immediately.

As the messenger leaves and Xiao’s thoughts wander to last night, he can’t gather the energy to wonder why he’s just been fired. He doesn’t even really care—it’s not like there’s anything left to protect anyway. He doesn’t find it strange, at first. All he can really do is walk forward, golden eyes staring blankly ahead, off the castle grounds and away from you.

When Xiao walks through the Harbor that day, skin painted in black, blue, and red, no longer do the people revere his arrival. News travels quick in Liyue Harbor; it’s only natural that the people had already heard of their royal family’s fate. Men, women, and children line the stone streets, staring up at the ruined castle in horror, whispering amongst themselves and shedding tears together. They scream at him and the other former guards, jeering and tossing trash that bounces off his body dully. He can barely feel it, can barely feel anything.

“You damn wizards,” one man cries, shaking a fist in Xiao’s direction, “what good are you here if you can’t do your one goddamn job? Get the hell out of Liyue, traitors!”

“The poor royal family,” one woman yells, tapping a handkerchief under her eyes to catch stray tears, “they trusted you!” Her eyes fall on Xiao, and she adds, “The princess trusted you!”

While the other guards curse and mutter under their breaths, some even daring to yell back at the crowd, Xiao says nothing. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t talk back, doesn’t even contemplate a response. 

Because they’re right.

You had trusted him to protect you, and he had failed.

He continues on.

The expedition returns that day, bearing witness to the fallen castle and traumatized guards, all blank eyes and flat faces. Xiao does not go to greet those returning—instead, he finds himself on a cliff overlooking the sea, just outside Liyue Harbor. That place no longer feels like home, no longer feels like anything. He can’t stand to be there a moment longer. If his comrades want to see him, they will come find him in time.

Zhongli approaches within the next hour, remorse written all over his face. Xiao can sense him coming, but chooses to say nothing; he feels that Zhongli might be his last comrade in this world.

“Your arm,” he says passively, in place of a greeting. He takes his place at Xiao’s side without issue, still and proud as a statue. He’s always carried an aura of power with him—Xiao wishes he had been there last night. Maybe things would have been different.

He glances to his right arm, to the emerald lines swirling and swaying down his bicep and ending just beneath his elbow. A faint glow emanates from the mark, a reminder of their magical origins. When it shimmers under his stare, Xiao scowls and pulls his cloak over his arm to cover it. The garment is still tattered and stained, and the torn fabric fails to hide the shining mark underneath.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he replies, as if that is a proper explanation of where it came from. 

Zhongli clicks his tongue. “You must’ve overexerted yourself quite a bit in order to sustain a sigillum.”

It’s not mad, or judgmental, or even disappointed—just factual. It’s his way of gently prying, offering Xiao a chance to speak about what he saw and experienced. Sigillum are known to be extremely painful for wizards, a permanent mark signaling a severe overuse of magic, and most who have one certainly didn’t gain it by choice. Xiao is no different.

He doesn’t speak, and for a few more minutes, neither does Zhongli.

Just when Xiao gets tired of staring at rolling waves and solitary islands in the distance, Zhongli brings the whole sky crashing down.

“Guizhong is being tried for crimes of treason.”

Xiao’s heart lurches, nearly throwing him forward into the unforgiving sea. Zhongli is strong, one of the most powerful wizards known to Teyvat, but the quiver of grief in his voice is audible; now, there is truly nothing left.

Without a response, Zhongli continues on.

“She was the only one of us Wizard Sovereigns present there, and she’s being blamed for the attacks and her failure to command the guard and protect the royal family.”

“Marchosius was on duty last night as well, he can—”

“Marchosius is dead.”

A slow, wobbling breath flows from Xiao’s lungs then, dissipating like ice into the air. Everything feels unreal, like a terrible nightmare that he will shake himself out of any second now. If Guizhong is being tried, it’s likely she’ll be sentenced—the commonpeople’s reaction has made that quite obvious already.

Xiao knows Liyue’s obsession with contracts. Debts of blood can only be paid with more spilling.

“So, what?” he hisses. “You’ll be the only Wizard Sovereign now? They’ve already banned all of the lower guard from the castle, do they expect you to protect it by yourself?” His heartbeat quickens, sprinting and burning like he had yesterday, and it sends a shooting pain down his spine. “I mean, they haven’t even investigated why it happened. Are they idiots? They think they can fight magical beasts without us? Even one of us would be better than ten of them against a beast, don’t they know—”

“Xiao.”

The gentle, rumbling voice of his superior pulls him out of his thoughts, and Xiao flinches when he realizes he’s summoned his spear, fingers clenching white-knuckled around it, chest heaving with every fiery breath. Zhongli’s stare is full of needless pity, and Xiao looks away with a huff. Really, he doesn’t find his anger unjustified—the actions of the new castle are truly foolish, and he’s unsure who exactly is making such decisions.

“I’ve been relieved of the position,” Zhongli explains woefully. “They suspect that wizards planned the attack as a sort of coup and it got out of hand, so the entire guard has been dissolved. I assume we’ll be replaced with humans.”

The thought is so ridiculous that for a few moments, Xiao doesn’t even dignify it with an answer.

“They think we killed more than half of our own guard on accident? That we planned to let the castle be destroyed?”

The anger threatens to drown him all over again, and Zhongli sighs, looking out at the sea vacantly. His eyes, which usually reflect kindness and mirth, only show an exhaustion far past his years.

“Xiao, you have to understand. The humans…they don’t understand how magic works, how we work. And humans will always fear what they don’t know.”

No, Xiao wants to say, maybe scream, humans don’t always fear what they don’t know. Because you had never been afraid of him a day in your life. The thought makes him feel as though the ground will give out underneath him, makes tears spring to his eyes.

In his entire time in the guard, Xiao thinks he has only cried once.

It had been while he was still just training as a normal guard, when the magic still took heavy tolls on his body and he returned to the barracks every night sore and bruised. There was no respect for him back then, given that he was an orphan, no one special, no one from a revered wizard bloodline. It didn’t bother him most days, but there was one day when it just became too much, and he curled up in his bunk and cried. He sobbed into his fist, wiped his tears, and set out the next day to do his job all over again, as he always did.

When he thinks about it now, a lot of that stopped mattering by the time he was promoted to a yaksha. Things got better after that—people started bowing their heads to him and complimenting his strength, and it felt nice. Recognition was nice, but it paled in comparison to everything he felt when he met you. You never cared where he was from or who his parents were, because all you loved about him was him.

But you’re not here now.

He falls to his knees, head bowing to the sun, eyelids fluttering weakly. Zhongli’s mouth falls open in shock, and though he reaches out, he’s stopped by Xiao’s strained voice.

“If they saw…if they saw how hard I tried to save her,” he pauses as the lump in his throat broadens, and he chokes it down, “if they knew what I had to do, they would never suspect us.”

“I know, Xiao.”

And before he realizes it, he is trembling; tremors run over his entire body, shifting and pulling like tectonic plates, matching the earthquake reverberating in his hollow chest. A hardened fist meets the ground, glowing with magic and creating a small crater from the force.

“If they knew what I would do to bring her back, they would never…”

He can’t get far enough to finish the sentence, a sudden wave of emotion crashing over him until glassy tears flow freely from his eyes, plummeting to the ground in dark splotches. Zhongli says nothing at first, or perhaps has nothing to say, nothing to wane the overflowing grief coursing through Xiao’s veins.

In a single night, Xiao had lost everything he had ever known.

Zhongli leans down slightly, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and pointedly avoiding the fresh mark painting his skin. His voice just barely bubbles forth from his chest.

“You are the last yaksha. Your fellow yakshas, your comrades, your friends, they watch over you now. You must not let the grief become your undoing. There is no sympathy left for us here now.”

Xiao’s fists clench against the ground. He thought he’d known grief for years now—the grief of being weak, the grief of being unwanted, the grief of loss—but none of that had ever compared to the ice-cold pit in his heart now. He looks up, looking entirely lost, entirely empty. 

“What do we do?” he asks in a whisper.

Zhongli quietly lifts his chin to the sky, arms crossed over his chest, something like a behemoth to Xiao’s crouched form. A vague twitch at the corner of his mouth is the only sign that shows unrest, or perhaps despair.

“Even if there is nothing left,” he says, “we live.”

/

If he had just been more calm, thought more about what he was doing, he could save you right now. He would press his hands to your stomach and let all his magic coalesce until you were okay. 

Phantom apologies and twisted prayers slip from between his lips. 

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

Your blood soaks through the gaps in his fingers. His breathing starts to pick up. He’d used up too much magic earlier; there’s not enough left to heal you properly, not enough left to do much of anything. All he can do is watch as you fade away, eyes still warm with mirth.

You cough, reaching out. “Xiao, your arm—”

“It’s fine,” he hisses, teeth gritted, trying to summon some semblance of power to help. It’s not fine, really—his arm burns like hellfire, like a knife is cutting down to the bone, but he won’t stop for anything. He doesn’t even notice the lime glow searing into his skin, marking him with regret and memories that will sting in the back of his mind. 

“Mother always said that Qingxin mean strength, since they grow on stone peaks,” you whisper, tucking the flower into the pocket under his cloak. When your hand brushes past his chest, he traps it there, fingers curling over yours so you can feel his heartbeat. You manage a weak smile. “Xiao, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“Princess, I—“

Your fingers intertwine with his. “I know, Xiao. I know.”

He wonders if you really do know. He wonders if you know that he only remembers what it feels like to exist—to be—when you’re looking at him. He wonders if you understand that he would trade his life for yours in a heartbeat, that even since becoming familiar with power and status and things finer than he deserves, all he’s ever wanted is you. 

All he’ll ever want is you.

“Xiao,” you murmur weakly, eyes glassy and thumb brushing over his lip. It reminds him too much of the many moments in which his heart grew fonder, in which you shared silent laughs in the dead of night and brushed fingers under lantern light. It hurts. “So beautiful.”

He wants to tell you that this isn’t beautiful, that none of this is beautiful, that the raw stench of burning flesh and iron will haunt him for years to come. He wonders if he should tell you that he saw your sister’s bedroom door smashed open, a shred of your brother’s cloak soaked in blood, the thrones tipped to the ground and marred with deep claw marks. He thinks he shouldn’t.

His heart beats in tandem with yours, aligned perfectly in a steady rhythm that slows to a crushing conclusion.

And in your final moments, you murmur three words that have his eyes fluttering shut painfully. Everything stops. He can’t breathe. Your silken curtains shoot up in flames, heat crawling up toward the ceiling. The room still burns around him, books and photos and memories and lives becoming ashes, becoming unrecognizable and irreparable. He feels that he himself is burning along with them.

And if Xiao draws you into tired arms in that empty room and cries, sobs, breaks, until the words “no” and “please” don’t even sound real anymore, until his tears dot your lashes and run down your cheeks, that is a secret between him and the unwavering moon—all that will be left is cinders and contrition.

Everything crumbles to dust beneath his fingers.

A/N. so this was actually supposed to be a prologue to a bigger multi-chap fic with childe and scara (and ofc xiao) in the same universe, but i never truly saw it through so... whoops. but if this gets a good response maybe it'll happen one day LOL who knows! thank you for reading!

[jqtsblyth]

"are we on a date?"

pairing: tom blyth x bestfriend!reader x actress!reader

summary: you and tom met not long ago, but the connection you have and affection for each other turns into something more. tom is three years older than reader, she’s initiating in acting.

genre: only fluffy - at least for now

warnings: english is not my first language | no proofread.

N/A.: Hi! I really want to turn this into a series, but I need reader engagement to know if it’s worth it! Don't forget to comment, reblog, and tell me what you think <3 read my social media au here!

word count: 954

It was a cloudy and cold Friday, and you’re feeling completely tired. After several classes and auditions throughout the day, all you wanted was to be at home watching your favorite movies and rest with your comfy pajamas. Picking all of your stuff at the restroom to finally go home, your cellphone rings with a message from Tom, your best friend. Suddenly, there are some butterflies in your stomach… looks like the universe heard you.

It was a wonderful idea, right? Tom’s busy as hell since he got important roles and projects, and despite feeling really happy and proud of him, you miss him a lot and all of your quality times.

Something about the nickname gave you so much comfort and warmth in your heart. Tom was picking you up by car at your drama school in a couple minutes and you couldn't help but feel anxious in a good way.

"Hi pretty boy!" - you grinned while hugging him and putting on your seatbelt. 

Tom was wearing a gray sweater matching wonderfully with his pretty blue eyes. Smiling at you, he responded:

"I’ve missed you a lot, honey. How’s your day going by far?" - He said and headed on his way to the nearest coffee shop. 

"I’m just exhausted. We're in the final stretch of the Christmas play and I've never felt so tired. It’s like, I don't know, but my mind needs a break." - You sighed, staring in front of you, looking at the light traffic on the busy avenue.

"And I’m here to make your wish come true" - he chuckled. - "We can grab some coffee and watch silly memes on the internet like we used to do, whatcha think?" - Tom is always so gentle and lovely. 

Your friendship was really a very healthy, comfortable thing... and every time you saw each other, it was as if you never had any problems in the world. It was just you and him, inside jokes and comfort. You wished you could say how important he is to you, but instead, you simply nodded while you both entered on the drive thru and took your order. 

Tom parked the car at the coffee shop and you spent hours updating each other on your busy routines, laughing over tiktoks, singing... There were also moments of comfortable silence between the two of you, the calm you loved and needed so much. 

He looked different this time. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't seen each other for a while, but you could feel that something inside you and the way you looked at him was different. A few sparks every time he smiled at you, and you swore you could feel the same coming from him too.

Her cell phone rings, breaking her out of her reverie, showing a call from your mother. You realize that you forgot to tell her that you would be coming home later today, but all you had to do was tell her that you were with Tom and her worry would disappear. She loved him. Sometimes it seemed like she loved him even more than you, her own daughter.

“Enjoy your date tho”, your mother said cheerfully on the other side of the line. You couldn't help but chuckle and feel your cheeks burn, as you looked at your friend who had a confused expression on his face. Before you could answer, she hangs up the phone.

"What does she said? Why were you laughing?" - Tom asked with a funny expression while taking a sip of your already watery iced coffee.

"It’s nothing! Curious boy." - you poke him.

"I don’t believe you. But I know you enough to know that one day, when you least expect it, you'll tell me like it's no big deal." - He teased as he pointed at you between each word.

"I want to show you a video that I forgot to send you." - you tried to change the direction of the conversation, wanting to avoid confessions that might come out too soon. Your mother was always right, and it made you wonder if you were actually on a date with Tom. 

After a burst of laughter, you find yourself in a awkward silence trying to catch your breath. “It’s time”, you thought.

“Enjoy your date”, my mom said at the phone. - you finally confess, avoiding his gaze.

Tom looks at you with a surprised, but fun and provocative expression:

"So… are we on a date? Kinda looks like one to me." 

You can't hide your smile mixed with an expression of surprise and doubt. It's really impressive how Tom always found it easy to confess things, to be direct, but his goofy personality - which you loved - always confused you about whether he was being serious or not.

"I wouldn't mind if we actually were in one." - You said in almost a whisper, but he clearly listened.

Finally you find the courage to look into his eyes, and notice his calm smile looking into yours with admiration and affection.

"I thought you would never say that. You're a bit slow to even ask me on a date, frankly, buttercup!" - He scowled at you, making you laugh nervously. You're so lost in his "confession" that you can't even notice his hands on your thighs.

The comfortable silence that existed between the two of you suddenly became a little awkward. You take a deep breath, and slowly lean over him to join your lips in a calm kiss, with all the accumulated affection. He reciprocates by taking one of his hands to your face and stroking your hair with the other.

If there was any doubt about his feelings towards you before, it disappeared at that moment.

[kurishiri]

01 ┊ Wrapped in a Wicked Romance —Darius Vogel—

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow or characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: none.

—— Sky (night) ——

Crown, an organization under Her Majesty the Queen that specialized in assassination.

Ever since the night I found out about them by accident, I became their fairytale keeper for one month’s time.

And then, around a week later, which was around the time I had grown slightly accustomed to living with them and the darkness in which they lived——

A cruel angel descended upon Crown Castle.

—— Throne room ——

Darius: To the honored members of Crown, it’s a pleasure to meet you.

D: The name’s Darius Vogel, the leader of Vogel, an organization directly under the Emperor of Germany.

Staying in the palace alongside Darius,

were the twins Nica and Ring Schwartz.

Just what were their backgrounds and motives…?

The chance to grasp the answer to that would come upon me soon thereafter…

In a way that would have never crossed my mind.

—— City (day) ——

Darius: Thanks for coming out with me, miss fairytale keeper.

Kate: It’s no problem, really. I was just thinking of going out to the city for a change of pace anyhow.

When I answered this calmly, a sweet voice chided me in return.

Darius: Let’s do that one over. We’re lovers, after all.

D: Did the ‘condition’ slip your mind?

(O-oh, right…)

—— Flashback ——

—— Victor’s office ——

Last night, I was called to Victor’s office, and when I arrived,

I saw Victor himself along with the members of Vogel.

Kate: Me? Show them around the city?

Darius: Indeed, by all means, I’d like to ask that of you.

Ring: I’m…okay with or without it.

Nica: Since I’m all the way here, I’d like to be shown around. If possible, one on one with the Spatzi.

Darius: ‘One on one,’ huh, I like that idea. Let’s use it.

Nica: Huh? (O_O)

While everyone aside from Darius blinked, only he narrowed his eyes, as though his heart fluttered from some stimulating delusion.

Darius: If we all just followed miss fairytale keeper here around, it would make us look like country bumpkins — unbefitting of us, I’d say.

D: I would loathe that sort of image, you know.

D: So that’s why I’d like you, miss fairytale keeper, to choose one of us to spend the day with as lovers.

Victor: You crack some rather interesting jokes, don’t you, Darius.

Darius: Oh, would that be hard to record down in a report? Then allow me to rephrase it.

D: The reason we ask for ‘one on one’ is because we would like you to face each of us and deepen your understanding of us.

D: Now all is well, yes? ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

(With a reason like that it does feel more official too.)

However, Victor seemed hesitant to respond to that.

To Crown, the members of Vogel were valued guests who were visiting out of goodwill.

And I was merely Crown’s fairytale keeper.

To provide hospitality for Vogel went beyond what my current job called for——however.

Victor: Even so… that would be going a bit far for her, I’d imagine?

(I’m happy that Victor is trying to protect me, but…)

Kate: It’s fine, really. If you’ll have me, I’d like to show them around.

(I don’t want there to be friction between Crown and Vogel, after all.)

(It would be better for the two sides to get along.)

Darius: Wowie, you’re so kind, miss fairytale keeper.

D: We’re all well-mannered, myself included. We won’t do anything bad to you, so rest assured. Hehe, thanks in advance.

Kate: I look forward to showing you around too.

—— End flashback ——

—— City (day) ——

——And so, that was how I came to be walking with Darius in the city, but…

(I had completely forgot about the ‘lovers’ part…)

Darius: Hey, hey, miss fairytale keeper, do you act so indifferent even to your lover too?

D: Or could it be it’s your first time going out on a date with a man and whatnot?

D: I’m curious about a lot of things, actually. Could I ask about them all?

D: Of course I can, no? After all, your lover right now is me.

(Setting aside the showing around the city part, it seems the ‘lovers’ part is more difficult than I thought…)

But it was undeniably me who consented to all of this, being ‘lovers’ included.

(I’ll try my best today and make it through…!)

Recomposing myself, I smiled at Darius, who was looking at me with deep interest.

Kate: I apologize if I made you think I was indifferent. …I was just a bit nervous, with this being a ‘lovers’ date and all.

K: But I really am happy to go out together with you, Darius.

Darius: Well, I suppose that’ll do. Even if it was a bit dull.

D: By the way, what made you choose me, rather than Nica or Ring?

At the time, I was to ‘choose one of the members of Vogel’ to spend the day with as lovers.

(And the reason I chose Darius was…)

Kate: Because I wanted to know more. About you, that is.

(When he first introduced himself…)

—— Flashback ——

—— Throne room ——

Darius: “To a better society with the power of the Cursed ones.” That’s our motto.

D: Right now, Cursed ones are living in the darkness, when they could be involved in a more wonderful society, methinks!

D: A future where humans and Cursed ones can hold hands… doesn’t the mere prospect of it send a shiver?

—— End flashback ——

Ever since then, I would occasionally recall those words.

(Just what is the world that Darius is seeking?)

Kate: I want to know what ‘a future where humans and Cursed ones can hold hands’ and ‘a new order’ are to you.

Darius: ………hmm.

Was it the light that seemed to change something in his gaze?

For there was a darkness I didn’t know of reflected in those honey-colored eyes, which seemed to sweetly flicker——something seemed to tell me so.

to be continued…

first next →

NOTE: in the masterlist, i mistranslated the quoted line from the summary due to omission of the subject and object. that line came from this chapter, and the masterlist has been corrected. i apologize for the inconvenience!

masterlist 🪽 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[katareyoudrilling]

Seen (Javier Peña One-shot)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Summary: You’re the last person Javi wants to ask for a favor, but not for the reason you think.

Word count: ~2.2k

Rating: Mature (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Alternating POV, reader is a few years older than Javi (Javi could be a variety of ages) and has hair that could be worn up or down, wrinkles and laugh lines, a touch of angst, non-graphic sex

A/N: This isn’t quite what I expected it to be when I started working on it many many months ago.  The idea was inspired by @famouslyanonymous musing that there didn’t seem to be any fics featuring a Pedro boy with a slightly older reader.  I wanted to say a lot of things with this fic and I’m not sure I said any of them, but I hope you enjoy!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Taglist link in bio (or ask me to add you!)

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Javi slams down the phone and pinches the bridge of nose.

He needs a favor.  Why does it have to be from you?

He can flirt his way through the department secretaries easily, but you, with your intelligent, assessing gaze… he swears you can see right through him.

The two of you have been crossing into each other’s orbits for a long time now.  He can tell that you know…  You know he’s not some DEA hero.  You can see right through to the failure of a man he actually is.

He takes a long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out and pushing away from his desk.  “Fuck it.”

He pulls at the back of his neck as he makes his way to your department.  He can already feel the tension headache beginning.  If you won’t do this for him… he’d rather not think about it.

He approaches your desk nervously. “I need a favor.”

“Is that right?” you reply, continuing your work.

“I would really appreciate it.” If he can’t flirt, he can at least try to be polite.

“You aren’t going to compliment my nail polish or tell me how pretty my dress is?”

“Uh… I… what?” Javi stammers.

“I see what you do around here.  Flirting with all the pretty young things to get your way.  Not me though, probably because I’ve got 20 years on most of them and a few on you.”

“What? No! Fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman here.”

“Right,” you scoff.  “It’s too late for the charm, Javier.”

He leans over your desk, gripping the edge.  Moving himself into the halo of your perfume.  “I’m telling you the truth,” he growls.

You lift your eyes to his and his knees go a little weak.

Who is he kidding?  A class-act like you is never going to bend the rules for a man like him.

“Never mind,” he pushes off your desk and walks away.

When he returns to his desk later that afternoon, he’s surprised to find the file he needs sitting on his chair.

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

You lean back against the elevator wall and sigh.  It has been a long day and all that has kept you going is the thought of getting out of your heels and pantyhose and onto your couch.

The elevator pings as the doors open on the garage level.  You step out into the cool, echoey space.  That’s when you see him.

He’s standing by your car, exhaling a plume of smoke, somehow not looking green and sickly under the florescent lights.  He must hear the click of your heels on the concrete because he turns and puts out his cigarette as you approach.

“What are you doing here, Peña?  Need another favor?”

“Thank you for the file.  You didn’t have to do that.”  He shifts his weight and looks down at his feet.

“Yeah, well, lord knows you get enough roadblocks thrown in your way.  I don’t need to be one of them.”

Javier chuckles ruefully, “You have no idea.”

“If that’s all, I need to get going.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Javier looks up at you, “To say thanks?”

Your feet and back are screaming at you not to get taken in by those puppy dog eyes, but there’s something simmering beneath the surface of his gaze.  Something that makes you curious.  His outburst earlier hasn’t left your mind.  You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little interested in where an evening with Javier Peña might take you.

“Counteroffer.  How about you come over to my place in an hour.  Bring the booze with you.”

Javier’s eyes light up in surprise.

“Don’t get any ideas, Peña.  It’s been a long day and I don’t feel like going to a bar.”

“I didn’t have any ideas.”

You scoff and make your way to the driver’s side door, “See you later?”

He nods.

Javier stands aside as you pull out of your parking space and out of the garage.  You can see him in your rearview mirror smoothing down his mustache, hand on one cocked hip.  It should be an interesting evening.

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

You open the door to your apartment and Javi is momentarily stunned speechless.  You’re wearing flowy, satin pants and a cardigan belted around your waist.  You’ve removed your make-up and your jewelry.  You’ve let down your hair.

You’ve never looked more beautiful.

You’re always stunning at work.  Elegant, put-together, gorgeous.  But here, now, you look so soft and relaxed.  It’s as though you’ve taken off the armor you wear to the office.

Like he’s getting a glimpse of the real you.

He always tries to hide the real him.  That façade might not work tonight… a frightening thought.

You step aside and motion him into the apartment.  Javi swallows deeply and forces his feet to step inside.

“I brought whiskey, hope that’s ok.”  He holds out the bottle to you.

“Definitely ok, I had a feeling.” You lead him to your couch.  Two tumblers already sit on the coffee table.  You uncork the bottle and pour two fingers in each glass.

You hand him his glass before swirling the amber liquid in your own.

He watches, mesmerized, as you breathe in the heady aroma and your eyes drift closed.  You take a sip and sigh.  His cock twitches.

“That’s good whiskey, Javier.”

“Call me Javi.”

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

You didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk to him.

Somehow you’ve gravitated towards each other.  Your knee now rests against his thigh.  His arm stretches behind you on the couch.  Whiskey glasses sit forgotten on the table.  You only needed a few sips to relax before the conversation and laughter flowed.

Swapping stories of co-workers and old mutual friends.  You realize you’ve never seen him smile before tonight.

It’s a shame.

His smile lights up the room.

Javi arches back against the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting late.”

You make a non-committal noise in reply because your gaze has been captured by the expanse of his chest you can see through his gaping shirt.

Has his shirt been unbuttoned this much the whole time?  Four buttons undone?  Really?  Why bother buttoning it at all?

Not that you’re complaining as you take in the view of his smooth, golden skin.  You watch, hypnotized, as his chest rises and falls with each breath.

Your gaze travels upward, catching on the divot of his clavicle.  The perfect place to breathe his scent.

His Adam’s apple snags your gaze next as it bobs in his throat.  You have to swallow yourself, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of licking your way up his gorgeous neck.

His jawline comes into view.  Strong and angular.  Beautiful.  Especially in contrast to his soft, plush lips.

They part slightly, revealing the most perfect crease in his lower lip.

Then there’s his nose.  Noses shouldn’t be so arousing.  It’s absurd.  But there it is in all it’s aquiline glory.  Like a goddamn sculpture.

You continue your journey up to his eyes and find that he’s staring at you, pupils blown.

Your mouth is suddenly dry as Javi slowly closes the distance between you, never breaking eye contact, giving you time to protest, until his lips meet yours.

A fire ignites in your body with the first touch of his lips.  It burns from your head to your toes waking you up from your slow syrupy thoughts.

You climb onto his lap, knees on either side of his slim hips.  His hands grip your waist.  His heat bleeding through the thin fabric covering your center.

You break away from the kiss, breathless. Javi continues kissing down your throat, tugging at your cardigan.  You sit back and reach between you, untying the belt and letting it fall off your shoulders.

Javi groans as he takes in the thin camisole you are wearing underneath.  Your bra had come off along with the pantyhouse and heels.  Your hard nipples poke against the silky fabric.  They squeeze even tighter as Javi licks his lips.

“Fuck, bonita, you’re gorgeous,” he rasps.  The sound goes straight to your core.

- - - - - - - - -

He didn’t come here for this.

Maybe he hoped initially.  But it didn’t seem to be what you had in mind.

He wasn’t lying when he said you were the most beautiful woman at work.  His eyes rove over your body of their own volition every time your paths cross.  His ears tune into the sound of your laughter and even more to your witty and sarcastic remarks.

But he didn’t expect this… this connection.

You’ve set him at ease.  Pulling stories from his memory that he thought were long forgotten.  The urge to pour out his heart to you nearly chokes him.

You’re too good for him.  Too smart, too strong, too confident.  And oh, are you beautiful.  

And now you’re above him, rocking into his cock, making the most heavenly sounds as you lick into his mouth.  He can do sex and do it well.  He can make up for everything he lacks with a good fucking.

Maybe fucking is all he’s good for.

“Take me to bed, Javi.”

He pauses.  He expected your words, but somehow, they have caught him off guard. It wouldn’t be just a fuck with you.  You’ve gotten under his skin.  You’ve glimpsed his soul.

The words bubble up before he can’t stop them.

“I’m scared.”

- - - - - - - - - - - 

His admission catches you off guard and you sit back.  “Scared? Of what? I know I’m older than you, but it’s not like I’m some dried-out husk and bats are going to fly out of my vagina.”  You push against his chest to get off his lap, annoyed and frustrated.

Javi growls and grabs your ass, pulling you back to him, holding you still while he finds his words.  “Fuck, that’s not what I meant.”  He huffs as he continues, “I’m scared because you… see me.”

The anger burns away as quickly as it came.

“I’m not the man most people think I am.” His big brown eyes that only moments ago held laughter and lust, fill with pain and doubt.

“Who are you, then?”

“Just a man.  Trying.  Failing.”

“I know.”

“You don’t want me.”

“What if I do?”

You’re surprised by your own admission. It’s the truth.  You do want him.  And not because he’s a ‘hero’ but in spite of it.  You want the man you met tonight.

You watch his feelings war across his face.  His body wants you, that is abundantly clear.  You’re pretty sure his mind and heart do too, if he could only trust them.

“Have you been real with me tonight, Javi?” you ask, brushing the pads of your thumbs over his gorgeous cheekbones.

“Yes.”

“I won’t beg.” You’ve lived enough life to know a man that doesn’t want you isn’t worth your time. “But know that I do see you and I want you.  The real you.”

His fingers dig into your hips and he swallows hard. “I’ve never done this.”

“I find that hard to believe.”  That earns you a smirk, some sparkle returning to his eyes.

“You know what I mean.  Real… I’ve never done real.  At least not for a long fucking time.”

“I’m as real as they come, Javi.  Wrinkles and all. Can you handle it?”

He brushes his fingers over the creases at the corners of your eyes and you melt.  “You’re beautiful.”

You bring your lips back to his, gently testing.  He wraps his arms around you, surging up into the kiss.  Heat quickly builds between your bodies as your hands roam freely across his broad shoulders and up into his hair.

He groans against your mouth.

“Take me to bed, querida.”

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

Your body is perfect.

Not in the way of youth – firm, angular, unblemished – but well-loved.  Each part of you telling the story of a life well-lived.

He worships each curve of you.  Reveling in what pleasure feels like with someone when he opens himself up.  He kisses your softness, traces each wrinkle with his calloused fingers, delights in the sounds you make as he explores your body.

When you welcome him into your wet heat with a contented sigh, it nearly breaks him in two.  You feel so right around him, moving with him, coming with him.

Sated and drowsy, he lays with you on your bed.  You brush his hair off his forehead and trace your fingers over his laugh lines and the crease between his eyebrows.  He’s lived some life too.

“Still scared?” you ask, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah,” he rasps quietly, looking up at your soft smile, “but I think it might be worth it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: Three day weekend but I got coursework.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Banished from the library, you refuse to slink back to your rooms and hide. Your position might remain tenuous but you are meant to be the lady of this house. One day. Soon enough. So much as you dread it, and Lord Laufeyson does too, it is inevitable. 

You retreat down the hall and descend the grand staircase to the first level. You pass between the serpentine statues and cross the airy space of the entrance hall. Several servants observe your passing but retain their propriety and silence.  

The doorman lets you out into the sunshine. You might have brought a parasol but it is too late now. You come down the steps onto solid earth and peer around at the lush green gardens that further bolster the estate's name.  

You retrace the path Odin led you on the previous day. You stop to admire roses in canary yellow and the orange tree transplanted from some faraway land. As he showed you it all, you could hear the pride which made this place so coveted. There's a peace that comes with the medley of colours and scents that mingle in the sprawl of curated gardens. 

As you reach the hedges higher than your own head, you become disoriented. You do not to clearly remember which way to turn. Certainly you cannot lose yourself enough to not find the route back. 

The statue of the lady in repose is familiar and the bird bath trimmed in stone lilies similarly nostalgic. You try to fathom that it is all meant to be yours. It is no easy plight to reconcile the duke’s loathing with expectation: your own, those of your parents, and society in itself. 

You tarry by the circle of benches around a weeping tree. The curtain of branches has you curious to delve into its arches and yet the webbing of spiders keeps you from mussing your dress. As all things, your caution keeps you from action. 

You turn back as the sun shifts and the clouds crawl over the sky. You wind around and come to stare down a wooden archway twined in vines and moss. You do not recollect that from Odin's exploration. You must have lost your way, you are not headed back to the estate but away from it. 

Uncertain, you spin back again and your feet turn fleet as worry mounts. You veer this way and find yourself at a wall of hedges, you turn that way and find yourself circling around back to the same place. You cannot make sense of it. 

You begin to weary as the sky dims further and a coolness settles in the air. Time passes and you remain trapped in the labyrinth of branches and brambles. What should happen might you truly be lost? 

For a moment, the premise is not so unhappy. It would assuage many malignancies. The duke would no longer be bound to your horrid existence, nor would you be vowed to face ridicule for the years to come. He might even let himself smile to think you gone, if not perished. 

You fall onto a bench and hold your head in your hands. Edith would love these gardens. If it were her, would she invite you to see them? Would she chase you as if you were still girls? Would the duke not fret so much for you, ignore you as so many others do? You would be only an occasional nuisance, not a pair of shackles to constrain him. 

You make yourself sit up as your sister's ghost drifts away from you. You should like to hear her voice one more time. You miss her songs and her laughter. You miss talking to her, the way she listened, the way she never falter at the errant whas or whoas of your affect. 

You rise and set your feet straight. What were those words she said to you? That she believed in you. That you could do this. Perhaps, this is what you wished for. That you take her pain instead. Would the duke have been kinder to her or just as cruel in his resent? 

You promised her. You don't care what you swore to your father or mother, but for Edith, you will do it. You will be as brave as she thought you to be. Even if you aren't. Even if you're terrified. 

You walk without a thought, twisting and turning, eyes set, steps decisive. You march into the open, away from the walls of foliage and into the sunlight that appears from behind the sheet of clouds. You turn your face up. 

You cannot be your sister, you cannot truly replace her. But you can be you and the duke will just have to accept it. After all, how can a second son begrudge a second daughter? The disparity between you is not so great after all. It cannot be if you are to be wed. 

You trod around the front of the estate and shake out your skirts, errant leaves and twigs untangling from the hem. You push your shoulders back as if your mother is their to rebuke your posture and you take the stairs with a straight spine. The doorman once more lets you past and you thank him, aloud, with more than a nod.  

You proceed through, chin up, and ascend the staircase with your eyes ahead, not on your feet. As you come to the top, you do not falter, but another does. You glance over at Lord Laufeyson as he leans back on his heel, scuffing to a halt as you breeze by. He arches a brow and you mimic his expression, a moment of reflection between you before you pass and carry on. 

You do not look back, keeping your shoulders square, and you stop before your rooms. You can sense his silhouette looming by the staircase though you do not know if he watches. You hope that he does and that he sees that you will not disassemble so easily. 

🔹

The banns are read on Sunday. You sit in the pew with your betrothed as he refuses to acknowledge you. It is not as big an insult as he may believe. You are very much acquainted with being ignored. You often prefer it. 

Upon your return to Jade Park, lunch is served. As the meals prior, you remain silent as you sit among the Odinson clan, still yet to be permitted into their ranks.  

Your appetite is as sparse as your voice. You poke at a pastry but don’t taste it. As Lord Laufeyson stirs his tea repetitively, likely out of agitation, you find the clink of the small silver spoon tweaks your already fraught nerves. 

The banns will be read once more; they were first sent to the church the Sunday prior to your departure - and must be proclaimed at least thrice before you are permitted to marry. Should you not undergo the necessary pre-marital purgatory, there may be whispers of scandal. Why should anyone rush a marriage if not for good reason? 

It is certain that you will face gossip at it were. If Lady Jane’s reaction is anything to measure by, not to mention your own fiance, then you wouldn’t like to add to your plate. Your fork sinks through the pastry and scrapes the porcelain egregiously.  

Without hesitation, Lord Laufeyson reaches over to clutch your wrist, “please.” 

You wriggle in his grasp and retract. You put your fork down and hide your hands in your lap. Your stomach is a maelstrom of emotions. Your eyes wander up to meet Odin’s as his own flit away from his son as Frigga chews behind tightly sealed lips. She swallows and clears her throat, taking a sip from her teacup. 

“So, as we await the nuptials, it would be high time for our lovely lady to debut, hm?” She declares as she perches up a little straighter, “it should be done before the wedding, I think. It wouldn’t be very fair to her should she face her wedding guests as a stranger.” 

“If you insist, you may take her to one of your ridiculous luncheons,” Loki taps his spoon on the edge of his saucer and his father sneers. Their eyes meet and the elder tilts his head dangerously. The younger plunks the spoon back in and starts to stir again. 

“Well, Loki, surely you would want to accompany her yourself,” his mother insists, “the Countess Kyringfort is holding a banquet the night after this. Perhaps we all might be free of these walls for an evening.” She offers a gentle smile, “and dear,” she looks at you, “I know you would be grateful for a distraction. Have you any letters from home since?” 

You frown at the elusion to your sister’s tragedy. It’s still raw. At the same, your sadness feels intimate to the point you are possessive of it. How can anyone who didn’t know Edith speak of her as they miss her? They all just mourn what could have been. They could have had a proper lady there in your place. 

“Naw,” the end of the word strays despite your effort, “my motha must be too distwaught to white.” 

Loki sighs and the table jerks on its legs as Odin glowers at his son. The younger flinches and gives a grunt. His father’s eyes narrow dangerously. 

“You will take your betrothed to the banquet and stop being such a petulant child,” Odin grits out. 

“Husband, he hadn’t even said--” Frigga begins.

“She is a gentlewoman. She needn’t his side eye and his sighs,” the grand duke insists. 

You’re struck by his defence of you. Your own father would only have commiserated with Lord Laufeyson’s irritation. Most would share a laugh behind their hands at your expense, and certainly they will at this banquet. 

“Lady Ky—Kyw—Ky--” you begin, trying to get it right. 

“Kyringfort,” Loki utters as if it should be simple. 

“Kywingfowt,” you insist on saying it yourself. If he will not speak to you, he will not speak for you. “I’ve never hawd of haw. You said she is a countess?” 

“Oh, she is lovely,” Frigga preens, “and an old friend, right, Loki?” 

“Yes, so she is,” he agrees, “more fond of my brother than myself.” 

“And who can hardly blame her,” Odin rebukes hotly.  

Laufeyson shakes his head and his brow arches as his nostrils flare dangerously. As unkind as he has been to you, you are empathetic to the constant reprimands from his father. You recall how Lord Thor and Lady Jane also took no issue in reproaching him. If he’d listen, he might learn that you know well what that is like. 

“Yes, he is rather amusing,” Loki mutters. “As eldest sons are given leave to be.” 

“Oh, I’ve never known a groom so gloomy,” Odin retorts. 

Laufeyson scoffs. He stills the spoon and leaves it to rest against the brim, fisting his hand on the tabletop, “do I complain?” 

“You mope like a beat dog,” Odin accuses, “my oh my, a banquet and a new wife, and you act as if you walk to the gallows.” 

“Father, you do always see the worst in me.” 

“I see an unthankful rascal. You have an estate and I ask one thing of you. The same duty of any lord and you would act as a prisoner. Well, son, you have your choice. Find a morsel of gratitude in that blackened heart of yours or seek your place at some parish,” Odin warns as he jabs a butter knife in the air. 

Tension roils in the air between the men as they glare at one another. Laufeyson snarls and it rolls up his throat. Before the noise can become words, you sit forward and touch your throat. 

“If I may, Lawd Odin,” you cheep, your voice nearly whistling in the tightness of your airway, “your son has been vewy hospitable. I have enjoyed my time at Jade Gawdens thus faw and I look fawad to calling it home. It is beautiful.” You glance over at Laufeyson as he watches you with stunned dismay, “and as we awe still stwangas I think we need some time to become ac—acwauinted.” 

You smile as best you can. It is a bitter lie. You don’t know why you should tell it but you feel as if you must. Frigga’s cheeks shake as she holds her smile and Odin scowls. 

“You lie well for him,” he shakes his head, “and still he does not see how fortunate he is.” 

Odin sits back heavily and takes his glass of sherry, downing it in a single swig. Laufeyson picks up his spoon and stirs once more, only to drop it and stand sharply. He brings his hands up, his long fingers extending, and he sputters before swiftly spinning and stomping away. 

“Next time, don’t waste your breath, lady,” Odin chortles, “you’ve better use of it.” 

[daisynik7]

“Meet Me Halfway” by Black Eyed Peas - fluff for Jean Kirstein please i BEG i love this song so bad

Meet Me Halfway

Can you meet me halfway? Right at the borderline is where I’m gonna wait for you.

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x reader (gn)

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: red string of fate/soulmates trope, canon universe, canon divergent, spoilers up to Season 4, fluff

Summary: Jean’s red string of fate was loose ever since he was born. It seems like everyone but himself has found their soulmate here on Paradis. It’s only when the scouts finally head towards the sea that his string becomes a little less slack. Could it be that his fated partner is on the other side in Marley, behind enemy lines?

Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! I’ve been fascinated by the red string of fate/soulmates trope for a while now, so I wanted to try my hand at it here! This is just a little taste of this, maybe I’ll expand on this story in the future. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/saradika.

The first time they ever see the ocean, they’re speechless, neither of them speaking to one another, taking in the breathtaking view. Cerulean blue shimmers throughout the entire expanse, nearly a mirror image of the clear sky above. It took them a few days to get here and Jean was beginning to doubt just how great this thing called “the sea” could be. He never expected anything like this, though. As if the picturesque scene before him isn’t enough to get his heart racing, for the first time in his entire sixteen years of living, the red string tied around his wrist, only for him to see and feel, finally tightened just the slightest. 

The lore behind the red string of fate is no secret among those living in Paradis. Each child is born with it cinched around their wrist; the other end supposedly tied to their soulmate. Jean’s has been slack since he can remember. That is, until now. While it isn’t as taut as some of his other friends, like Mikasa with Eren and now Armin with Annie, only he can tell the difference. It’s been a running joke since they found out the truth about the other side. Connie teases him and Sasha about it constantly. “Maybe your soulmates are in Marley? How does it feel to be bounded to our enemy?”

Sasha, like Jean, has never felt any differences in her rope throughout her lifetime. He turns to face her, pointing to his wrist, curious if she feels the same. Her jaw is dropped, and when she notices him signaling to her, she closes it, gulping loudly, slowly nodding. 

When they all dismount their horses to explore the water, Jean momentarily forgets about it, focusing only on how cold the ocean feels on his feet, how salty is tastes on his tongue, how incredibly far it reaches, surely farther than his eyes can see. It’s only after their skin starts to wrinkle that they retreat, sitting on the warm sand instead, watching the waves crash onto the shore. He nudges Sasha. “So, you felt it too, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” she answers, hesitant. She caresses her wrist in her other hand, biting her lip.

Connie butts in. “Felt what?”

“Our strings. They’re a little less loose now that we’re here.”

He smirks. “I told you! Your soulmates are on the other side!”

Jean leans back against his hands, groaning. “I don’t want my soulmate to be on the other side. The other side has been trying to kill us for hundreds of years! This is so messed up.”

Sasha hugs her knees, pouting. “I agree. This sucks.”

Connie pats her shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to marry your soulmate, you know. Plenty of people don’t! My parents weren’t soulmates, and they turned out just fine.”

“But you’re planning on marrying Hannah, aren’t you? Once this is all over?” Hannah is a childhood friend from Connie’s hometown, and the two have been in much more contact recently. 

He chuckles. “I mean, not right now. But yeah, maybe in the future…”

“So your argument makes no sense!”

“This is different though! If your soulmate really is in Marley, I think the universe will forgive you for not marrying our enemy.”

Jean groans again, staring at the glistening ocean in front of him, shaking his head. “I just can’t believe they’re really out there and not here.” 

There isn’t much they can do for now, considering they have no means to get to Marley with the current resources they have. Jean buries it in the back of his mind, trying not to think about it while they spend the next month building a base near the shore. They anticipate a Marleyan ship to arrive soon, scoping the island before implementing their attack to capture Eren, the Founding Titan. What the other side doesn’t anticipate is Paradis being prepared to ambush them to carry out their own plan in infiltrating Marley. The first one arrives when they expect it. With Eren’s Titan abilities protecting the rest of them, they manage to capture the ship easily, taking those on-board hostage for questioning. Sasha, who is usually uninterested when it comes to matters not involving food, is surprisingly invested. She watches carefully from outside the tent, waiting for them to be released from their interrogation. Jean accompanies her, unclear about her intentions until she explains to him. “My string, Jean. It’s tight. My soulmate is in there.”

They haven’t talked about it since, both choosing to ignore it for the time being. Jean’s is still as slack as the first day they arrived here, and if he’s being honest to himself, it’s crosses his mind nearly every day. A small part of him wishes he was experiencing what Sasha currently is.

Eventually, a young man with brown eyes and blonde hair steps out, looking terrified. He glances at his wrist, then his surroundings, landing his gaze on Sasha’s, who’s peeking from behind a box. She gasps loudly upon eye contact, kneeling down to hide completely. Jean does the same, not before noticing the man make a similar expression, surely curious.

Sasha doesn’t say anything more about it, though Jean can tell she’s intrigued. A few days later, like fate, the man who they find out is named Niccolo, starts working at the port as a chef. Sasha is smitten as soon as she takes a bite of his food, and from then on, the two are inseparable. Jean can’t help but feel jealous. 

With all of his friends acquainted with their soulmates, Jean is growing more and more impatient by the day. It takes over two years for Paradis to organize their first trip to Marley and he’s among the first to volunteer, not only to help the scout’s reconnaissance of enemy soil, but for his own ulterior motive to finally find his soulmate. He doesn’t disclose this to anyone, though he’s certain that his best friends have a hunch. 

When they finally arrive to Marley, it’s stimulation overload. They attempt to stick together as soon as they step foot off the ship, though it’s difficult when there are so many new and exciting things to try. It’s especially hard for Jean when he notices his string getting more and more taut with each step he takes deeper into the city. 

They all decide to split up momentarily to explore, agreeing to meet back at the port in an hour. Jean and Connie follow Sasha through the crowded streets. She’s being led by her noise and eyes, searching for the tastiest, most delectable looking treats to try upon Niccolo’s instructions. “You have to try ice cream!” he told her days before they departed and it hasn’t left Sasha’s mind since. She sneaks glances at the small note he gave her, trying to match the words he wrote to the storefronts. “There! I see it! An ice cream parlor!” She rushes towards a colorful shop, pushing her face towards the glass window, drooling. Connie drags her towards the entrance, which dings as they walk through. Jean increases his pace to catch up and the string around his wrist is tight now. He scans his surroundings, trying to see what direction the little rope is pointing to. As he follows his friends inside the shop, it’s unbelievable taut now, and he’s certain that his soulmate is inside this ice cream parlor. His heart races, simultaneously terrified and excited to meet you. 

~~~

A little over two years ago, you notice the string around your wrist feels heavier on you than usual. You’re often teased about your soulmate being an “island devil” on Paradis, considering you’re the only Eldian left in Liberio without a one. In all honestly, it doesn’t bother you, the idea of your destined partner being on the other side. Even if they are an “island devil”, you’d still like to meet them. After all, you’re soulmates for a reason, right?

You spend several minutes each day sitting at the port, staring out towards the sea, wondering what they are like. You ignore the propaganda that’s been spewed at you since birth and instead fantasize about what their interests are. Do they like the same things that you do? What do you have in common, besides the rope that ties you together? How much taller or shorter are they, what color hair do they have? Do their eyes twinkle with kindness the way you picture they do? Will their smile be as charming as you imagine it? You dream about this for over two years, slowly letting the fantasy fade into the back of your mind before you lose your sanity. It’s easy to obsess over something, but it’s hard to get out of it once it consumes you. There’s no guarantee that you’ll ever meet them at this rate, so you go about your life as usual, distracting yourself from any romanticized ideas of your uncertain love story.

Today, you’re behind the counter of the ice cream parlor you work at. You started working here several months ago, hoping to be near the port in case one day, they arrive. The past few days, you convince yourself it’s just your imagination, the gradual tightening of the string. This morning, it’s tauter than it’s ever been before, and you’re certain you’re not making this up anymore; they’re here, they’re actually here. 

There isn’t time to go looking for them yourself, so you begin your shift, itching for the hours to pass quickly so that you can leave to begin your search. Fortunately, you don’t have to. Two people around your age enter the shop first, behaving oddly. They’re dressed normally, though something about them piques your interest. It’s especially alarming at how stiff the string is now, so you inspect each of their wrists carefully, dejected when you don’t see a match. The girl presses her nose to the glass, ogling at the ice cream displayed in the freezer, drooling. Her friend, a boy with a shaved head, tugs her off, apologizing with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry about her. She gets a little crazy when she sees something she wants.”

You smile at them. “No need to apologize. Our ice cream is the best in town, so her reaction is understandable. What would you like?”

The girl blurts out, “Everything!” 

“Sasha! We don’t have enough money for everything!” 

She pouts, eyes flitting across each flavor. “But they all look so good! How am I supposed to decide which one to pick?!”

Feeling generous, you offer, “I can do a sampler platter, if you’d like.”

Sasha’s face brightens. “Really?! You’d do that? How much would that cost? Connie, how much do we have?!”

You wave them off, beaming at them. “It’s on the house. Consider it some good old Marley hospitality.”

They gawk at you, shocked, and it only makes you giggle louder. You retrieve one of your larger bowls and ready your scooper, starting at one end of the freezer. The bell on the front door rings, but you’re too busy to greet the new customer directly. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!” 

It’s only now that you realize how stiff the string is, practically quivering now from being pulled so tight. You look up and see a young man staring at you, holding his wrist up with the same red string coiled around him, an uneasy grin on his face. “Hello.”

You almost drop the scooper into the carton, astonished to have finally found him. “Hi,” you say, heat rushing into your cheeks, taken aback at how handsome he is. “Um, let me just finish this.”

“Jean, you’re distracting our new friend here! She’s giving us all this ice cream for free!” Sasha exclaims, salivating over the bowl overflowing with ice cream now. 

He smiles at you, running his fingers in his hair. “Sorry. Please, continue.”

It takes you a few seconds to refocus back on your task. Eventually, you scoop all twelve flavors into a bowl, handing it off to Sasha and Connie, who dig in immediately as soon as they sit down. You pass a spoon to Jean. “Would you like to try? Before your friends finish it off?”

He laughs, grabbing it. “I guess I should, right?”

“Or I could scoop your own if you’d like. Which one do you want to try?”

He studies each carton carefully, pointing at your favorite flavor by coincidence. “This one is calling out to me for some reason.”

Your heart beats quicker, amazed by this serendipity. “That’s my favorite,” you admit, getting him a scoop.

“I had a feeling it would be,” he replies, beaming.