#sorry it took so long to write out

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[slytherizz]

Fight or Flight - Sebastian Sallow/F!MC

Summary: Sometimes sleeping dogs don't lie.

Two years after his uncles death and with Anne missing the last remaining Auror who scents deception requests a testimony from the only person witness to what really happened between Sebastian and Solomon in the catacombs that day. In a bid to protect those memories and keep him out of Azkaban their marriage is arranged - A marriage Sebastian is hell bent on putting a stop to.

Word count: 15,000 (remember when I said I’d keep it under 10k)

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Angst, Masturbation, First Time

Link: You can find the complete fic on Ao3.

A/N: Sebastian ‘my wife’ Sallow. To the anon who requested this, I’m sorry it’s so late but it was so much fun to write.

Sebastian is almost certain he’d been on the receiving end of a lethal confundus charm. Either that or he was at present suffering a massive life altering haemorrhage somewhere amongst the sun deceptively warming his cheeks and the familiar groan of the dragon bones anchored above them, as it tilted its great head in greeting when they'd arrived in Hecate's office. Full of mysterious tombs and the lingering scent of smoke. Ash trampled so tightly into the grooves in the floorboards he doubted even the house elves could scour out the smell. 

He’d gotten too comfortable. No. Down right complacent as of late and now his psyche in a riotous act of self-preservation was giving him a blistering slap back into reality. 

Pull yourself together. 

Sebastian dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. He hissed at the sharp pain as he broke the skin. Felt the blood prickle hot against his sweat slicked palms as it beaded along the thin superficial wound. Uncomfortable. Stinging. And far, far too real. 

“What-?” he managed to croak around a lump in his throat. Praying to Merlin that if this wasn’t a dream it was some elaborate and albeit cruel practical joke. 

“Spousal Privileges,” Hecat repeated. Matter of fact. Her features were drawn and to his dismay betraying no hint of amusement. 

Sebastian choked violently on his own saliva. A hacked cough, raw against his throat. As if the wind had been knocked out of him by a patient and vindictive phantom.

“What this means is you couldn’t be forced to give a testimony or surrender any memories pertaining to anything to do with Mr Sallow. With his sister still missing, the only people who know what really happened in that catacomb are the two of you. If you can’t be forced to corroborate this theory that has been gaining traction at the Ministry that’s the way it stays,” his professor continued to address the witch beside him, unmoved by the blood draining rapidly from his face. 

Her eyes were fixed intently on Hecat, chin raised as she refused to meet Sebastian’s increasingly panicked eye. He shifted in his seat towards her. Turning rapidly back and forth between her and their professor. 

Waiting. A heartbeat and then more passed. Mounting up until it became a deafening drum in his ears. 

He wanted her to laugh. Let it loose. Burst the dangerous tension mounting with every second this insanity stretched on for. Most pathetically of all - he wanted her to save him. Wanted to watch her face crease with laughter at the absurdity of what Hecat was saying. Cling to some sense of normalcy, her stability by his side whilst the rest of him was spiralling out of control.

She was uncharacteristically still in her chair. As frozen as the statue of the mourning lover in the courtyard. Her fist clenched so tightly in the pleats of her skirt her knuckles blanched. A half finished braid she’d been fiddling with behind her ear hung abandoned. Not a shadow of humour remaining. 

“Why now? It’s been years since…”  she asked, with a more measured tone Sebastian felt the situation did not warrant.

She spared him a glance which did little to put him at ease. If anything the serious crease to her brow set him on a razor's edge. 

Sebastian was unravelling. The thread he’d used to stitch back together a semblance of a life was pulling apart at an alarming rate. And the only two people who had any hope of holding him back together were entertaining this insanity. 

“Some of Miss Sallow’s effects were uncovered at the former Feldcroft residence. It seems no one had tended to the home since your Uncle passed…unexpectedly. My contact at the Ministry informs me that there's only one Auror pushing for those memories. Sergeant Tuttle. Old guard. Worked closely with your uncle when they were both juniors in the department. The rest are happy to let Solomon’s memory remain as it has been for the past two years - the heroic final act protecting his young charges from a horde of uncontrollable inferi,” she paused and Sebastian felt the weight of every word. “Personally I am inclined to agree.”

Hecate’s already thin lips pulled so tight they almost entirely disappeared. Her inscrutable brown eyes peeling back the curtain seeing far beyond the truth to the crux of him. Weighing his mettle. And he wasn’t sure she’d be impressed at what she found. 

Because what he was - was careless. Sebastian supposed he could argue that his distress over losing his sister had made it too painful to return. Knowing Anne was not there, Feldcroft seemed rather pointless. 

But really all he’d been was too eager to turn his back on that hovel that had never been his home. Ivy grew thick over its stones and he hoped one day it would pull it down entirely. No one had touched the wards in over a year. Perhaps when he’d boxed up his feelings and shoved them away in his desperation to move past what he had done, he didn’t consider the possibility that there were others out there who, unlike him, may not want to move on so hastily from Solomon's death. 

Anne certainly hadn’t. 

“With you two being so close, this is the cleanest option-” Hecate continued. 

“I don’t bloody care about clean!” Sebastian broke from his stupor. Fist slamming on the table rattling the spoon from where it rested against his saucer. “Tell me the other options. I don’t care how messy they are. I’ll do them.”

“Perhaps I should rephrase,” Hecat said sharply. “This is your only option. And you’d do well not to leap to such dramatics if you want this to work, Mr Sallow. In particular I’d advise against taking such a tone with me.” 

Sebastian didn’t care. He’d already geared up to argue back against this preposterous idea when the statue of the witch beside him suddenly came to life. As if Pygmalion himself had loved her into life just to spite Sebastian. 

“We’ll do it,” she said firmly. 

Sebastian choked again, head snapping to look at her. “You can’t be serious!” 

She simply glared back at him, as if he wasn’t the only reasonable person left in the room. “I’ve kept you out of Azkaban this long-“

Their professor cleared her throat, having little patience for the squabblings of teenagers that was beginning to unfold in her office. It set Sebastian even more on edge. She’d thrown a bomb into their lives and was now regarding him as some petulant child causing a scene. As if instead while he was scrambling to hold it together she expected him to thank her for it. 

“I’d choose your words more carefully in front of an audience but I admire the passion. If you want this to succeed you’ll have to make them believe this. Believe you. You can’t cast any doubt on the reason for any of it. A young couple, so in love they simply cannot wait to be married.”

***

It was like taking a match to a forest doused in kerosine. How quickly word could spread overnight when students kept such close quarters and they were eager for anything to save them from revision. Whispers billowed up from steeped mugs. Steam laced with secrets curled around their lips. Huddled so tightly together they looked like hydras. Each set of eyes alight with amusement. Teeth bared ready to feast on their speculation. 

From the moment Sebastian had stepped into the Great Hall he’d felt it. The oppressive shift to the atmosphere that usually welcomed him each morning. Clouds dark, heavy with the foreboding rain swirled on the enchanted sky. At least it was fitting.

Instinctively he sought her out. Looked for hers amongst the hundreds of eyes turned towards him. Which he pointedly ignored instead following the remaining half who stole glances towards her. 

Blue. Green. Brown. Shifted between them assessing to see what they might do. 

She was boxed into the middle of the table by Onai and Sweeting with Reyes taking up the spot across from them. A vicious hound guarding her flock ensured even the most brazen little wretch who considered interrupting would think twice - give her wrath a wide berth. 

Reyes to her credit - snarling banshee that she was - looked as deeply horrified by the pathetic silver band on her friend's finger as Sebastian felt it deserved. 

They’d transfigured it hastily from a pair of silver spectacles once they’d stumbled out of Hecat’s office the previous evening. One she kept in an odd tangle of items in her satchel and the rushed magic had already begun to tarnish its appearance. It was a wonder anyone actually believed them with how dull and thoughtless it looked sitting on her hand. 

If her smile wasn’t so tight, or her laugh a little too airy she would be executing Hecat’s ludicrous scheme to perfection. 

Sebastian swallowed around the lump in his throat and sheepishly changed course. Rerouted himself away from the group of witches throwing his bag down on the bench and slumping into a seat at the Slytherin table. Which seemed to delight some of the onlookers. Clearly humiliation was a good seasoning for eggs, he thought as he poured himself a cup of tea from the pot and took out his potions essay in an attempt to look busy enough no one would suspect exactly why he was sitting alone. Or worse, try and talk to him. Not that they would dare when his face looked as thunderous as the sky overhead. It didn't, however, stop him from overhearing their animated gossiping. 

‘Do you think she’s…you know?’ 

‘Obviously! Who in their right mind gets married a month before they leave school? Clearly they’re in a rush before she starts to y’know...’ one girl smirked with an exaggerated flourish over her stomach.

Sebastian shot a glare across to the gaggle of Ravenclaw’s in the year below. Who giggled even more loudly when they caught his eye, one turning pink from the tips of her ears to well past the neckline of her jumper. Sebastian on the other hand felt like someone had doused him in a bucket of water from the lake. 

If Reyes didn’t skin him for the insulting piece of jewellery she certainly would if she suspected he’d gotten her favourite flying partner up the kyte. 

Sebastian tried to focus on his potions essay. List even a single ingredient of ‘Felix Felicis’ which was proving to be impossible when behind him a brazen fourth year proclaimed and loudly he’d caught them sequestered away between the stacks of the restricted section - her body bent over a desk. Sebastian’s grip on the quill tensed as he strained himself to write the differing effects between wyrm and dragon scale on a potion - and not a very vivid description of what he apparently looked like on his knees buried between her thighs. Ink blotted on the parchment. 

Sod Hecat on ‘selling it’. Why did they need to go to such lengths when apparently every gossiping vulture was content to click their beak and do all the work for them? 

Surely Azkaban couldn’t be worse than this? 

Well, that was delusional - but if he overheard one more person comment on if her robes looked bigger he was more than likely going to do something that would get him thrown in Azkaban regardless. 

Sebastian had anticipated suspicion but he still wasn’t prepared for how much it would chafe. 

He knew if they were not at the centre of this farce, the two main players on the stage they would have jovially picked apart their performance too. She would have speculated over their sanity as she picked idly at her cauldron cake. Made some snide comment about being too eager to get his leg over. He’d bet her a galleon they’d see the proof in nine months and she would have snorted, undignified unladylike into her pumpkin juice. 

Being the subject of this speculation however was mortifying. 

Would that be next? Bringing a child into the fucking mess he’d made just to cover his own back? If the thought of dragging her into a marriage him feel ill it paled in comparison to the feeling of crippling dread that conjured. 

But would she want that one day? In a young witch's sacrifice to keep him had she truly considered all the things she was giving up in his stead. Things she may not know she even wanted until the opportunity had already been bartered and sold off for the price of his freedom. What kind of man was he to take the hope of any kind of family from someone who already had none to show for it? Take away the chance for someone to love her. 

Or maybe she never intended to give up on that particular dream. And Sebastian would be expected to play his part - the cuckolded husband. 

Work late until the candles burned down to the wick to give her lover time to retreat. Share her with one; or with many. 

Vow now to never let her go without. 

Even go as far as to raise her children as his own. Glamour their cheeks with foreign freckles he’d wish were inherited. Brand them with the Sallow name with ink on thin parchment but not their blood; their ties to him just as flimsy and performative as hers.

Her easy smile as she lathered honey onto her toast set his teeth on edge. Sebastian felt in that moment like he never really knew her at all. Head pounding Sebastian stuffed his ink pot and notes back into his bag. Abandoned his breakfast in a rush to get out of the stifling hall. Away from the whispers that he knew would also be deafening in her ears. Perhaps even more so.

‘I didn’t even know they were courting. It’s a shame he’s off the market.’

‘Here’s the thing - I don’t think they were. Clearly, he’s marrying her to do the right thing. Now that she’s trapped him with a baby.’

She caught his eye, her eyebrows stitched together in concern but it did not offset the rigid lock of her furious ticking jaw. Teeth set, clamped together as if Hecat had clamped a muzzle on a fucking dragon and then handed her chains to Sebastian. 

Shamefully, he couldn’t bring himself to hold her gaze. Couldn’t even bear to face her in that moment despite knowing he was the reason she had to listen to these lies spread. He should tell her he was sorry. But instead he fled. 

Complete fic can be found on Ao3.

[cfffrk]

[missingn000]

hey all! i wrote a what-if character study & action fic for if king fought sanji instead of zoro during the raid on onigashima. i'd really love if you gave it a read! thanks so much!

link

playlist

happy reading!

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Can I request something for Marcille, Chilchuck, Mickbell and Holm with a half-foot reader who is not someone to avoid a fight like most half-foots would because they are a duellist/dagger wielding rogue? They even seem a little reckless because they trust so much in their own skill of avoiding hits so they dare come in close when fighting something.

Oh now that is a delightful image! i love when a character subverts the expectations of the race they are in fantasy. Dwarf Mages, Elf barbarians, etc etc. this sounds delightful.

Marcille looked at you the same way as she looked at chilchuck, she couldnt help but view you as a child like she did with chilchuck. she giggled seeing you with your daggers and even asked if you were old enough to be using those, worrying that you might cut yourself.

So imagine her reaction when during the first fight you charge in with your daggers, slashing and stabbing and dashing all over the monster. your size and speed making you damn near impossible to hit . marcille was shocked, you had told her time and time again you werent a kid and were good in a fight but she just attributed that to you being embarrassed.

She apologizes to you for assuming you were young and that you couldnt look out for yourself. she let her biased views influence how she viewed you and she felt bad about it, you accept her apology and you two become good friends. Your speed lets you duck in and out of range of her explosions to deal damage with your knives. you two make a great team.

Chilchuck absolutely knows about you, he had heard about you through the grapevine. He had thought about getting you in the union to make sure nobody took advantage of you, but all things considered he figured you were more than capable of handling yourself.

When you joined the party he assured everyone of your skills, that if even half the stories he had heard of you were true then you would be an excellent addition to the party. And sure enough when the first first starts and your zipping in and out of combat slashing and stabbing the enemy chilchuck just smiles smugly at everyones wonder. He comments how not all half foots are squishy and bad at fighting.

Normally he would discourage you from a fellow half foot getting into an immediate melee brawl but your skills make him think that isnt an issue. He does still care about you, your a fellow half foot so of course he is going to look out for you. He cant help looking out for his fellow half foots.

Like chilchuck mickbell had heard of you before, that you were supposedly some half foot that was great in a fight? sounded like a loud of bullshit to him, he thought you were just somebody talking alot of game and having no real skill to back it up. that you likely were just lying to people.

Mickbell nearly faints when he finally sees you in action, As he hid behind some rocks he watches as you and kruo charge in slashing and stabbing at the monster. The two of you fighting with such savagery and speed, he wasnt sure who was more animalistic in their assault. The monster eventually slayed he steps out of his hiding spot.

He looks at you with wide eyes, saying how cool you were and how your so awesome! the way you were just running circles around the monster was the coolest thing he had ever seen! that you had to teach him how to do stuff like that.

(apologies i couldnt find a proper gif of holm)

When you joined the party and told him about your skills he belived you, his intuition told him that you were much more skilled than you let on so when you told him your fighting style it made sense to him. And when mickbell said you were likely lying holm said he didnt believe it for a second.

When the first fight with a monster happened you noticed his Undine Marillier by your side. Its way of attacking complimenting your fighting style, as you attacked and dodged the monsters attacks it would snipe at the monster each time you opened up its weakness. the two of you really were a dangerous pair in combat. Of course you also were quick to draw the monsters aggro back onto you to keep marillier safe.

After the fight holm gently pet at the undine and resealed it, thanking you for helping it in the fight. "thanks for watching her back, your one of the few people that tries to not let her get hurt." he says with a smile thanking you. You tell him its no problem, after all your team mates.

[blackbirdi]

One-Sided pt. II

If you haven't read the first part already, the link to part 1 is here

I'm so sorry this took so long, guys, I was struggling with ideas. Anyways, enjoy :)

Brief Description: Sirius begins to notice how suddenly you're around him a lot less than usual. What could he have done to make you want to avoid him at all costs? And why does your avoidance hurt him this much?

Point of View: 3rd Person

Word Count: 2181

Character: Sirius Black x Reader

House: Gryffindor

Year: Sixth Year

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Sirius has talked to Y/n last, and it's driving him up the wall. The only other time where he doesn't talk to her for that long is during the summer, but at least they owl back and forth non-stop, and now suddenly he hasn't heard her sweet voice in two damn weeks.

And it's not as though he hasn't tried to talk to her. Hell, he's been going out of his way to run into her just to ask what was up with her, but every time she sees him, she runs away. And now she's changed the time of her daily activities (going to the library to read/study, walk in the courtyard, visit Hagrid, etc.) – not that he knew the times she was going by heart before she changed them – so now he can't even run into her then.

Two weeks. Two damn weeks. And he's not going any longer without her.

It was Saturday and the Marauders were all hanging out in their dormitory, and Sirius was itching to find Y/n and beg ask her to forgive him for whatever he must have done to have her ignore him like this.

"Remus," Sirius calls, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Remus hums, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading, which only caused Sirius to grow more frustrated.

He closes his eyes before he snaps at Remus, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The only thing that does is cause his eyes to well up with tears. 

Godric, what was up with him? Was Y/n really causing him to get this upset?

When he speaks next, his voice breaks, which causes all the other Marauders to lift their heads and look at Sirius with concern.

"Why won't Y/n talk to me?"

The other three Marauders share a few glances at one another before looking back at Sirius. The pity in their eyes as they look at him causes Sirius to grow frustrated once again.

His eyes, which were previously filled with tears, harden as he wipes them away. His lips pull back into a thin line as he glares down at his own hands.

"She keeps avoiding me! I haven't said anything to her in weeks!" he cries angrily. "And even when I do say something to her, she just ignores me and runs off! Did I do something to make her mad at me?"

"I'm sure you didn't do anything, Padfoot," James tries to comfort him. "Maybe Y/n just needs space for a while."

"Space from what?" Sirius snaps. "What did I do that would've wanted her to space herself from me? And only me! I haven't seen her ignoring you three, or anyone else for that matter! What did I do!?"

“Pads –” Remus starts, but is quickly interrupted.

“Why do you care so much anyway?” James asks. “It’s just Y/n.”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all shoot James a glare, all three of them knowing that was not the right thing to ask.

“Yeah, Y/n, my friend,” Sirius sneers. “I care because Y/n is one of my closest friends and now suddenly she’s ignoring me! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Because it does, a lot.”

“We know, Padfoot,” Peter replies, trying to make his voice sound comforting, although to Sirius it sounded more like pity. “I think James was trying to ask why you’re so … no quiet over dramatic about it … but more upset than you normally would be about something like this.”

“Yeah,” James agrees. “That’s exactly what I was trying to ask, thank you, Pete.”

Sirius glares at the both of them, his teeth gritting together as he tries to hold back from snapping at the two of them.

Why was he upset? Really? One of his best friends just straight up ditched him! Of course he was fucking upset!

“How do you twats not understand that I am upset my friend has fucking abandoned me!” Sirius snarls, his voice wavering as he tries to control his anger.

The others share another, worried glance, which drives Sirius even more insane.

Of course, Remus, James, and Peter quickly caught on that Y/n was avoiding Sirius, and were even quicker to catch on why. It wasn’t that hard to see that Y/n had finally had enough of her silly little crush on Sirius and was trying to stomp it out by avoiding him. And of course, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail knew that avoiding Sirius at all costs wasn’t going to get rid of Y/n’s feelings for Sirius. And of course, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew knew that Sirius’s own feelings towards Y/n were developing beyond friendship.

“I can talk to her if you want me to,” Remus offers.

The usual stormy grey of Sirius’s eyes had darkened considerably in anger, his eyes narrowing at Remus in a glare.

“You’ve done quite a lot of talking to her,” he hisses. “A lot more than I have in Merlin knows how long. Do you know how frustrating that is, Remus? To see that Y/n, who suddenly hates me, is still all buddy-buddy with the three of you? Do you know how shitty it makes me feel when I see her talking to you and then she immediately runs away whenever she sees me? Do you?”

“No,” Remus replies, his voice squeaky at the anger in Sirius’s tone.

"That's what I thought," Sirius snarls, standing up from his bed abruptly.

With quick strides Sirius finds himself at the dormitory door, the door opened an inch before Peter asks curiously, "Where are you going?"

"To fucking find her!" Sirius snaps, turning around and facing his friends. "I can't keep going like this, without her. I - I need her, okay? I need her because ... because I love her. I love her. Holy shit, I love Y/n. I'll be back guys, but I need to find Y/n, even if that means searching every nook and cranny of this godforsaken castle."

He's out the door in another split second, the door slamming closed behind him.

Silence settles over the other three as they share glances, confused evident on each of their faces.

"Well," Remus finally mutters, breaking the silence. "He handled that a lot better than Y/n did when she realized she was in love with Sirius."

–––––––––––

To Sirius's surprise it didn't take him that long to find her. She was sitting in the courtyard, leaning against the truck of a tree with a book on her lap.

Sirius was careful to approach her quietly, not wanting her to spot him and jump up and run away (like she had been doing for two weeks straight).

When Y/n finally looked up from her book, the first thing she saw was Sirius looming in front of her. Her eyes widened as they made eye contact, scrambling to pick up her book and getting to her feet.

"Y/n, wait," Sirius snaps, grabbing onto her wrist with a vice-like grip before she could run away. "Please, don't run again, please."

Y/n sighs, trying to tug her wrist out of Sirius’s grip before she turns and faces him for the first time since the Quidditch game. Her struggling ceases as she sees the pain behind Sirius’s eyes, the pain that she would’ve caused every single time she ignored him or ran away.

“Please, Y/n/n,” he begs in a whisper, pulling her closer to him. “Please, don’t leave me again. I miss you so much. And I am so, so sorry if I did something to hurt you, or did something that made you want to avoid me. I never meant to, I don’t think I have done anything, but if I did just say the word and I will hold myself responsible for it and I will do anything I can to get back in your good graces because I miss you. So, so much. I hate that I haven’t seen you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t talked to you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t heard your voice in two weeks, and I hate that you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not blaming you because obviously it must have been something I did, but please Y/n, please, please, please stop avoiding me. I miss you.”

A wave of guilt washes over Y/n as she listens to Sirius, watching tears well in his eyes as it gets increasingly harder for him to talk without choking on his words. However, she can't help the little flutter her heart gives at his words.

Sirius takes a breath, trying to collect himself as he finally says everything he was feeling.

"And-and I hate how much it hurts that you've been doing this. I shouldn't care, I really shouldn't, but I do. I care so goddamn much, Y/n. It's been two weeks, two fucking weeks! I shouldn't be this effected, but I am. I've missed you more in two weeks more than I've missed anything else in my life, more than I miss the Marauders during the holidays, more than I miss Hogwarts during the summer, more than I miss the heat of the summer during the winter, more than I miss the sun in a rainstorm. I missed you, Y/n, and it's only been two weeks. So please, please, please, please, tell me what I did wrong so I can right it and we can go back to how we were before whatever I did."

A pause, a heartbeat before Sirius adds in a trembling voice, "Please."

Y/n takes a shaky breath, trying to stop the heat from rising in her cheeks and giving her away.

"Sirius," she says slowly.

"Please," he interrupts her, his voice breaking. "Please, Y/n. I don't know what I did, but whatever it must have been, I am so sorry. Please, please, please forgive me."

"Sirius," Y/n repeats, "you didn't do anything. I just... I realized something and I shut myself away from you. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you. I never meant to hurt you like this."

Sirius stares at her, confusion bubbling up within him as he listens to her explain.

"I-I don't understand," he admits in a quiet voice. Her stares up at her helplessly. "Why would you avoid me like you have if I didn't do anything? You haven't avoided the others, just me."

Y/n sighs, her heart thudding in her chest as she looks away from Sirius and finally admits in a small voice, "I'm in love with you."

The world stops, for the both of them.

Y/n can't breathe, why would she admit that!? Everything, everything, has been ruined. She ruined their friendship! Why would she do that!?

Sirius can't breathe, did she mean it!? Everything, everything, is going to change, for the better. She felt the same! But why did she avoid him if she loved him?

After what felt like hours of silence, Sirius responds, "I love you, too."

Sirius's heart pounds against his ribcage. Even though she said it first, it's still so hard to admit it.

Y/n's heart pounds against her ribcage. There is no way in hell that he actually feels the same.

"I – w-what?” she stutters, mouth dry.

“I love you too,” Sirius repeats, dropping her wrist. His hands come up to cup her jaw, holding her face in his hands as he smiles down at her. “I-I was thinking about how much I missed you, everything about you – not just your presence – and I guess that led me to realize that I would never feel this way about someone I thought of as my friend. Y/n/n, I realized that I’m in love with you.”

Y/n mirrors Sirius’s smile, relief flooding through her body as her cheeks flush with pink.

“I-I’m glad,” she whispers. “I was scared that you didn’t feel the same; that’s why I started avoiding you. I thought that if I was around you less my feelings would go away, which obviously didn’t work. But I was scared to say something in case I made things awkward between us.”

Sirius chuckles, pressing his forehead against hers, asking in a soft voice, “How could I not be in love with you? You, Y/n L/n, are the most kind, thoughtful, caring, smart, funny, beautiful woman in the whole world; I don’t know how I didn’t realize my feelings for you sooner. I love you.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” Y/n murmurs back. She closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius being this close to her.

A comfortable silence fell over the two as they soak in each other’s presence, two hearts beating as one.

Two minutes. It has been two minutes since Sirius has admitted his feelings for Y/n, and it’s making him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Taglist: @littleshadow17 (who asked for a part 2 a month ago. I hope it was up to your standards lol). And @rosieandthethorns (who didn't asked to be tagged but I figured I should let you know so you can stop foaming at the mouth and writhing on the floor lmao)

[mintypsii]

not a part 2, but here's a prequel to this sanuso comic I did last month !!! (takes place the night before ,, technically after the first three panels)

[the-broken-pen]

Hello! Heard you were open for writing request? Had this idea in mind about a villain who's Russian and a hero who's falling for villain's accent? Maybe a bit of flirty banter as they fight 👀 your choice tho! Have a fun spring break ☀

The hero was pretty sure the villain was actually trying to kill them this time.

“Hey, don’t aim for the face, okay? It’s the money maker.”

The villain raised one eyebrow–and aimed for the hero’s face.

“Oh come on,” the hero groaned. “That’s just uncalled for.”

“Really? Is it now?”

If the hero had better judgment, they would have said something snarky back, or attempted to get the upper hand. Instead, in a move uncoordinated and wrought with embarrassment, they tripped over their own feet and blushed.

The hero was used to pretty. They were used to gorgeous.

But they had never expected to be attracted to someone’s accent of all things, and it was driving them mad.

“Yep, pretty sure it is,” they managed. They had to dodge halfway up the wall to avoid the villain’s next blow.

“You’re awfully chatty today,” the villain said, and the hero was going to lose their mind–

“Is this affection?” The hero blurted, and contemplated throwing themself off the building to spare both of them. “Because it feels like affection.”

“I don’t know,” the villain shrugged. Their mouth tipped up slightly, gone in a flash between one second and the next. “Do you want it to be?”

The hero froze. “You–I–” and found themself blinking up at the sky, the villain’s hand around their wrist. “Did you just judo flip me?” They wheezed, and the villain grinned.

“You’re blushing.”

“Yeah, because you just knocked the wind out of me. Excuse me for going red with oxygen loss–” the hero cut themself off with a cough, lungs protesting every word, and tugged the villain down to crash into the pavement beside them.

“Let me rephrase; You’ve been blushing this entire time.”

“It’s cold.”

“It’s July.”

“A very cold July.”

“If you’re going to lie,” the villain said, and truly, the hero was lucky they hadn’t had a knife pulled on them yet, “Do it well.”

The hero buckled the villain’s knees. Petty? Yes.

Satisfying? A good reprieve to try and get the blush that flared every time the villain spoke to subside? Also yes.

“Real smooth,” the villain rolled their eyes, pushing themself to their feet. “So, what is it.”

“Was that a question, or–”

“My winning personality?”

The villain was studying them with far too much care.

“Aren’t you supposed to be robbing a bank or something?” They said half-desperately.

“Smile? Laugh?” The villain paused for a moment, catching the hero’s punch as if it was nothing more than a mosquito–which was insulting, to say the least–before their face cleared of any confusion.

“Ah,” the villain said, and oh the hero was so screwed, because they knew that look. That look appeared regularly in their dreams. It was the villain’s signature ‘I figured something out and I’m going to use it to do nefarious things’ look. Their ‘I’m smarter than you and I’m about to prove it in an effortlessly ruthless maneuver’ look.

The hero saw it far too often.

“‘Ah’ what.”

The villain, damn them, grinned, releasing the hero’s hand.

“Accent.”

Any air that the hero had managed to regain after the judo flip escaped from them like they were a sinking ship.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No,” the hero said, cursing every single moment of their life that had led up to this one. Maybe they really should have become a lawyer– “I’m just flabbergasted by how dumb that sentence was.”

Flabbergasted. Flabbergasted. Who the hell says flabbergasted?!

“This is cute,” the villain remarked as they drew a knife. They gestured with it towards the hero’s undoubtedly fire engine red face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered.”

“I’m not flustered, I’m–”

“Flabbergasted?” The villain suggested wryly, and truly, the fact that this situation was funny in a hopeless and pathetic way was not helping. The accent absolutely was not helping either.

The hero truly had nothing to say to that, staring at the villain, the two of them impromptu statues.

“You like me,” the villain teased. “And my accent.”

The hero was not proud of what they did next.

Considering their life, it wasn’t the worst thing they had ever done out of embarrassment.

A close second, though.

The villain smirked, and in a move far more elegant than they had ever thought themself possible, the hero slid under the villain’s arm, snagging the knife from the villain’s hand as they went—and planted it into the villain’s side.

The villain blinked, hand going to their side. The hero blushed—

Finally, in the single coherent thought they had managed in seemingly their entire life, they did something not embarrassingly pathetic.

The hero bolted away, into side streets and alleys, to the sound of the villain’s pained and endlessly amused laughter.

“Real smooth,” the villain called after them, voice echoing between the buildings. “You’re handling this quite well.”

The villain was never going to let them live this down.

[angelyuji]

so i have this idea of stalker Stanley catching us awake and nonconning us " he’s waiting to actually fuck you tho. he wants you awake for that." (sep 18 post). I hope i worded this correctly. :3

hey friend! yes i understand and i love it a lot also i've been trying to find the post and i cant find it for some reason its driving me insane omg

also i saw ur other inbox message and i tried to write it in :) forgive me if its bad.

tw // noncon, somno, yandere stuff, kinda ooc maybe

stan watched you breathe, sleeping peacefully as he quietly crept into your bedroom. the covers had shifted as you turned, your shirt riding up. stan felt his breathe catch in his throat, "so beautiful..." he murmured. he couldn't stop himself from crawling onto your bed, sitting on his knees by your feet. his hand trails up your exposed leg and you shiver. he watches you, unzipping his pants. your eyes flutter and stan freezes, watching you awaken slowly.

“stan?” your voice is low as your head clears. your eyes drift from his face to the hand pumping his cock.

stan smiles, sheepily, “whoops. didn’t mean to wake you, sweetheart.” in moments, you try to scramble out of bed, but he grabs your legs. he pulls you back, turning you onto your stomach. you struggle and stan grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling. you try to scream, but it’s cut short as he wraps his bicep around your neck. he feels himself get even harder as your ass grinds against his, trying to get out of his hold. “don’t make this harder than it has to be, doll.” stan groans huskily into your ear. he keeps you in the headlock, “i wanted this to be special, but i can’t hold back anymore.”

“wait, wait-” your words get caught in your throat as he tightens his grip. he pulls down your bottoms, his thick fingers pressing into your warm hole. you let out a gargled sound at the feeling.

“come on, baby, relax for me.” you hesitate and stan pumps his fingers into you, “i’ll make you feel good, doll.” stan feels you give up, leaning back against his chest. he feels you start to soak his fingers and he chuckles. he could see your eyes close and he loosens his grip around your neck. you take in a breathe and stan slams himself into you, tightening his grip once more. you whimper and stan presses a kiss to your forehead, “i told you i’d make you feel good, doll.”

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[luminique]

HEAR ME OUT, one sided love?? Imagine s/o doesn’t like lighter back, being oblivious about lighters feeling and only see lighter as a friend meanwhile lighter is so MADLY in love with them and is aware of s/o not liking him back but he can’t help it because you’re the only one that makes him feel this way even if his feelings aren’t reciprocated… they’re so doomed think about the potential angst!! 🫤

lighter isn’t perfect. his body is littered in scars of his past, his actions are solutions to mistakes he had made before. to say that he deserved something as rewarding as love didn’t sound right to him, but oh, would it feel right if it was from you.

it was definitely not an immediate fall, rather it was slower like starting a fire. you bring the materials you require, some wood and a starter. it’s difficult to get a fire going, even he knows that with his lighter in hand. his hand gets warmer the longer the flame is out but it doesn’t compare to the accidental grazes of your hand against his gloved ones.

he had poked you once with the spikes on his gloves. the look on your face when you brought your hand up to rub it while you apologized for it. why were you apologizing? every soft “sorry” that came out of your mouth was like sprinkling water onto the fire. best to get fresh firewood so that it doesn’t go out.

ensuring that the fire is a consistent flame is also important to prevent accidents. accidents like playfully taking off his sunglasses and putting it on yourself while imitating him. somehow, that didn’t cause the fire to go out, in fact, it made it burn even brighter than before. the redness on his face when he watched you was comparable to the orange and red hues of a fire.

he stayed close to the fire, close to you. feeling the warmth of love on his skin, finding it calming but also terrifying. it doesn’t rain often in the outer ring but that doesn’t stop him from worrying that it would all of a sudden. so he lies awake at night, thinking about all of the possibilities, the what ifs and its outcomes.

he thought he had considered everything. from keeping the fire from going out, to ensuring it was a stable flame, to tending it slowly and carefully. what he didn’t consider was getting too close to the fire, burning through what he thought was tough skin.

he was too focused on trying to maintain a certain personality, not quite showing his interest in you. so when caesar was talking to you about her love stories while everyone was hanging around the bar, his heart rate increased. just like how consuming alcohol affects one’s mental and physical state, so does it affect a fire. maybe someone poured his drink into the flames as he watched it burn even brighter than before, making him eavesdrop on your conversation.

but a large flame meant a higher possibility of getting burnt, and soon he saw the burn marks on his skin. as you continued to talk with caesar, the longer he let the fire burn him. how you had said that real love wasn’t like the stories, how you seemed disinterested in romance, how you had believed that no one was interested in you. at that moment, he ended up getting more drinks from burnice, hoping it would soothe the roaring flames within him. he drank so much and fell asleep to the soft crackling of the fire, your voice acting as background noise.

he woke up to the coldness of the bar counter pressing on his cheek. the fire had been put out by you when you tapped on his shoulder. the memories of last night flooding into his mind like water. maybe it was all some nightmare and you did like him back, but the sudden coolness of your touch made him realize the reality of it all.

you didn’t like him, and not because he did anything wrong but because he didn’t do anything in your eyes. you were feeding the fire in his heart and he mistook that fire for your heart too. he sat up straight, took one look at you and shook his head. you still cared for him, came with water and woke him up gently. he never intended to get so severely injured because of his own growing feelings for you.

his own feelings, you didn’t even know he had any for you. the pile of ashes, you both stared at it and yet only he knew that fire existed. the flames had misled him, danced around his heart that craved for you, that only asked for you as its fuel. now all he can do was sit next to what was once a big fire, feeling the cold on his skin despite the layers. no warmth left, no light left, no love left.

[idorukiss]

Heres a sorta drabble/headcanon of sorts of how I picture MC's relationship with Sylus would devleop~ I'm not much of a writer but the brainrot is real and ive made similar ones for the other boys too!

1,035 words || You can also read it on ao3

‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙ Xavier ・ Zayne ・ Rafayel

Sylus is always prepared for any and every situation that could happen when he works, In all his time reigning over the N109 zone there hasn't been a single thing or person that hasn’t been accounted for to some degree- that was until you showed up at least. Like a black cat, you seemed to bring unexpected chaos wherever you stepped.

Of course he couldn’t help but do everything he can to keep you by his side, not only to be a formidable ally but simply cause he finds you as a whole fascinating. What kind of things will you say next? How will you get out of this situation? It’s like a game to him, one that he can’t predict or brute force the ending to.

While the two of you didn't get off on the best foot at the start, he proved himself very trusting and that he cared for your well being fairly easily. Sure he would take chances to tease you for the littlest things- even creating various situations just to see your reaction to them, but he still honestly responded to your every question and kept you as best in the loop for things as he was able.

It was strange yet nice to have someone like him by your side, someone so strong and confident that you could trust to cover your back and seemingly trusted you as much to cover his in return. It was a dynamic you weren’t that used to yet, sure you had your fellow hunters but no matter how much you fought alongside any of them you just couldn’t find yourself fully trusting in their abilities like this.

The more he got to know you the more he found himself thinking about you and the things you like. Often swiping his card first and thinking later any time your face flashed in his mind when perusing wares. He wonders how long it will take you to realize he keeps all of his estates fully stocked with presents and everything you might need in the event you show up to any of them.

“Sylus? Why are you calling me so early??” “Check your door kitten, you should have a package waiting for you” “Don't tell me its another gun, I keep telling you I can't use these outside of the N109 zone” he chuckles deeply “Well I could get you a gun too if you really want one. But no, it's something different this time” Curiously you grab the box and start to open it “...A teddy bear?” “Do you not like it? I figured it could add to your growing plush collection.” You let out a small giggle “That's so sweet of you. But you didn't have to send it to me right away, you could've left it in my room for the next time I came by like usual.” his voice is soft, almost whispering into your ear “I couldn't wait to give it to you is all. Wont you accept my gift?” Your heart pounds “I love it, thank you. Ill be sure to sleep with it every night!” your face is beaming, he cant see it through the phone but he can surely hear it in your voice.

Any time you find yourself without missions long enough to justify the trip, you spend it in the N109 zone with him. You told yourself at first it was just to keep an eye on him and see if you can catch any weaknesses, but you were secretly excited to be spending time with him even if it was just sitting in content silence together while he worked. And despite his unchanging face, Sylus might’ve looked forward to each of your visits even more than you.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary to accompany him to various events and gatherings, and it was surely strictly for business at first. Now though? It’s hard to tell. Not that you mind either way, it just felt nice to have his arm around you and being doted on throughout the night. When people inquired about who you were, he would usually refer to you as his woman in a more joking way at first, but your heart couldn't help but flip the first time he said it more genuinely. While looking right at you with a smile.

One very late night after attending a party, you couldn't help but doze off in the car on the way back to his place. It was much later in the night than you are typically used to, you don’t know how he can function at this time of night most days. You can’t help but let your mind wander and picture what day to day life with him would be like if you just never went back home.- If you stayed by his side for the rest of time.

He gently carries you inside, but instead of going all of the way to your dedicated room he brings you with him into his. There's no nefarious plans, he just simply wants to have you by his side longer and has wished to wake up to your face for far too long. A faint hum stirs you from your dreams as you are being gently placed onto the comfort of his mattress. A small kiss pressed to the top of your head as the blankets pulled over you before he quietly climbs in beside you.

Did you even wake up in the first place? Even if it was still a dream it meant everything to you, and you reach an arm out pulling yourself close to him and nuzzling into his side. Your eyes flutter closed once more enjoying his warmth as he quietly chuckles to himself and wraps an arm around you in return, falling into a blissful sleep of his own. Neither of you would give up this moment for the world, you were meant to be in each other’s arms just like this for eternity.

He would kill for you, and you would live for him. Nothing anyone could do would predict your love for one another, and you'll continue to defy fate to be with him

[zer0pm]

Imagine having dated Luis Serra in the past only to be reunited with him literally chained to you.

“Another late night?”

A sigh. “Sí. Wesker wants another update on the new medicine my team is developing.”

“Didn’t you just send him a report about it this morning?”

“My thoughts exactly. But people like him, they’ll push because they can and keeping pushing until they get what they want.”

“Sounds familiar.”

The man stops typing away for a moment to turn and wink at you. “You like it when I push.”

You chuckle lightly in turn and pull up a seat next to Luis. The researcher welcomes you at his side, instinctively placing his hand upon your knee as soon as you settled onto the chair. His fingers dance upon the fabric of your pants, caressing the warm skin beneath while his other hand returns to the keyboard.

There is a tired expression upon his handsome face as he focuses back on the computer screen, but the tugged up smirk on his lips and the relaxed gleam in his beautiful grey eyes that appeared in the wake of your presence of you was unmistakable.

“It’s going to be awhile,” he says, a soft lull in his voice. “You should go home and get some sleep, mi corazon.”

You shake your head, returning him a gentle smile of your own. “I’ll wait, Luis. I don’t mind.”

“Can’t rest unless we’re in bed together?”, he says with a wag of his brows.

You quip back playfully, “We wouldn’t even rest if we’re in bed together.”

The Spaniard hums thoughtfully. “That’s a tempting thought. I better hurry up, then.” He leans his head against yours. “Pero, seriously. I don’t want to make you wait.”

A comforting hand reaches over to affectionately squeeze his muscles arm, “It’s fine. Stop worrying. As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.”

You feel him nod. The growing hairs along his fine jaw, softly scratching against your head. “Yo tambien. What is the expression, we’re… attached to the hip?”

“Practically chained together you and I.”

“Keep distracting me with ideas like that and we’ll never leave this place.”

—-

A deafening ring scratches against your ear drums, a dim light shines a dull pain in your eyes, and rusted metal scratches against your wrists. All these sensations awoke you gradually, a slow rude awakening. You’ve barely a moment to gather your wits and take in your surroundings before a familiar voice catches your attention.

“¿Estás bien? Are you hurt?”

It’s Luis, he sounded slightly disgruntled, but it did little to hide his evident concern for you.

You instinctively shake your head. “No. No, I think I’m okay. You?”

“Could be worse. Better than being in a musty burlap sack. And this time, I am in the presence of good company.”

Always the charmer. Some people just do not change, and when it came to Luis, that thought puts you at ease.

The last thing you remembered before coming to was finding Luis tied up in some basement. Leon was there, and another man, large and imposing, who approached the three of you unannounced. There were gunshots, and you recall a massive fist connecting with your head. That’s gonna bruise…

You look overhead to see your wrists clapped in irons and a pair of strong arms dangling alongside yours.

“Guess we ended up chained together, afterall.”

You feel Luis’ back slightly shaking against yours, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat. “I admit, this isn’t how I imagined it to be like either.” After a slight pauses, he sighs and calls you by name. “Pleasant talk aside, not that I’m not happy to see you again because… admittedly… I am- But what are you even doing here?”

You shrug. “Oh, you know. The views.”

The Spaniard scoffs. “Falsa. You’re a terrible liar. Always have been.”

Again, you deflect. “And what about you, Luis? This doesn’t exactly look like a cozy spot for a vacation.”

“I live here. Within the village. The house you found me under? Casa de mi infancia. My childhood home. It was, anyways, before…”

He paused. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he said nothing. It unsettled you.

“…Luis?”

He shifts a little behind you at your voice before a what sounded like a defeated sigh escapes his lips. “Joder. I was conducting research,” the man began. “After leaving Umbrella, I came back here to treat the villagers from a disease that has plagued them for a long time. Back then, it was bad. But now, it is much, much worse than when I left many years ago. I tried to help, but as you can see, I’ve had little success.”

Now it was your turn to fall silent. That was a lot to take in. After separating from Luis all those years ago, you continued to keep tabs on him. You made the excuse that you were simply monitoring his movements in case you were able to gather more information about Umbrella, but really, you just wanted to make sure he was okay. The last time you two spoke… it did not go well. And when he went off the radar, you thought the worst but never gave up searching. To say you were relieved to see him again and learn that he still practiced medicine for the benefit of others was an understatement. You feared that he may have gone off the deep end and we’re glad that you were wrong.

Luis speaks up when you said nothing. “Suppose it’s a good thing that you didn’t come here with me, after all.”

You pondered over what to say. There was plenty. You wanted to tell him that you missed him. That you thought about him every day. That you ended things between you two for his sake. But they all failed to reach your throat. Instead, you opt for a different truth. One that he deserves.

“I work for the government.”

When he doesn’t speak right away, you mentally prepared yourself for his anger and disappointment. You expected him to fly off in a rage and curse you a thousand times over, reproaching you for failing to come to him with this from the beginning. You expected him to question if your time together, if your feelings shared were genuine, and you were prepared to confirm that you and him were real. Instead, as often as Luis does, he surprises you.

“I know.”

You blink, your words faltering for a second. “Y-You know? What do you mean ‘you know?’ When- How-”

“After you left me. I did a little digging- on my own… and I learned some things.” He shifts to his feet and you followed suit, meeting his eyes. Despite their cold hue, his words came out warmly. You detect a hint of anxiousness from him. “I know why you did what you did, mi amor. Just wished you would have told me.”

Your heart flutters unmistakably from his term of endearment for you. You had to force your eyes down so as not to have your emotions betrayed to him even though it was already pointless at this point.

“I couldn’t…”

“I know.” Those little words again. “Still would have been nice to hear them, anyway. Well, perhaps not “nice”- Pero, it would have been ideal to try to work it out together.”

“Would you have wanted to at that point?” The question left you before you could bite it back.

Luis’ eyes sparkled at the almost hopeful tone in your voice. “With you, I want to do everything.”

This man is too good to be real. You wanted to hug him then and there, to pour out every apology known to man, to beg his forgiveness and declare your love for him. But the chains around your hands and the fear of rejection prevented you from doing so. However, the way Luis looked at you told you everything you needed to know, told you everything he felt and still feels for you, and you only hoped that your eyes said the same. Still, being one that wishes to validate their intentions, you opened your mouth.

Luis stops you. “Shh! You hear that?”

You focus your senses, trying to identify what he’s talking about. And sure enough, the distinct sound of garbled, inhuman groans reaches both of your ears. Your fists clench and your body tenses instinctively. This time, not of fear, but in disciplined alarm, ready to face any threat that dared to come your way. Luis picks up your stance instantly, a flash of amusement and admiration in his grey gaze.

“Now, despite my impressive physique, I’m actually not much of a fighter. So, would you…?”

You switch places with him before he could even finish his sentence, minding the chain that connected you both. The tall man reflexively shivers beneath your touch and as you left a hand lingering upon chest in a protective manner, he didn’t move away.

“Stay behind me and keep your distance.” You ordered sternly before throwing him a side glance, “And by the way, this discussion is far from over.”

“Muy bien. You got this.”

His tone was meant to be casual, but there was no denying the hint of admiration (and daresay lust) that rumbled within his thick throat. This was a side of you he has never seen. And although he can deduce that it comes from years of discipline and training; deep down, he knew your instinct to protect him comes from something much baser and more powerful. He knows, because he’s ready to protect you to despite his suggestion otherwise.

There was so much that needed to be said between you two. But that would have to wait until you were both safe. And without interruption.

“Just another long night, ¿si?”

As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.

You didn’t say it out loud. But he heard them all the same.

.

.

.

A/N: A continuation of Him.

Gif is also not mine, please support the original poster :3

[azu1as]

What do you think about tang bo vs tang gunak for cheongmyeong. With either tang bo time travelling/reincarnated to the future or tang gunak time travel to the past?

hello!! i am so so sorry this is super late 🥺 I've been rotating this ask in my head for two months because there's simply so many possibilities with this, I absolutely love love love it!

»—————————–✄

To say that Tang Zhan's twin brother was a bit of a recluse would be an understatement.

Despite being named after one of the most renowned members of the Tang Family, Tang Gunak's son took after the known worst traits of their great ancestor.

Tang Bo was as cold and uncaring as the earlier recounts of his namesake. But unlike their ancestor, his son wasn't interested in improving his martial arts. Rather, he seemed to content himself with staying indoors and building that strange shrine of his that appeared to be dedicated to the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.

Tang Gunak sighs tiredly. He could never get a straight answer from his son whenever he asked about his odd obsession with Mount Hua's hero. Through the years, he's learned to brush it off as another eccentricity of his son.

The one time he ordered Tang Pae and Tang Zhan to remove their brother's shrine, they both ended up needing immediate medical assistance because of how viciously Tang Bo had attacked them for 'desecrating' his altar.

He thinks it's such a shame that Tang Bo refuses to partake in his siblings' training, but despite his adamant refusal, his son's core is still one of the strongest among his siblings.

And one of the purest too, it suddenly comes to Tang Gunak's mind as he watches Chung Myung cheerfully chug down another bottle of alcohol.

It feels almost wrong how easy it was to compare Chung Myung's core with his son's despite them being on vastly different spectrums while having equally well-known namesakes from their respective family and sect.

On one end in the dark, there was Tang Bo who quietly cultivated his core as he whispered quiet mutterings to his altar and refused interactions with people unnecessarily. And on the other was Chung Myung, who was at the forefront of Mount Hua's rise.

It was admirable, truly.

Tang Gunak would say so as much if it weren't for the sudden killing intent he could feel directed at him.

Standing outside right in front of the window with no subtlety whatsoever was his son, Tang Bo. His face was pressed against the window panes and Tang Gunak only realized then how threatening of an aura his son could produce.

Chung Myung wiped the drips of alcohol away from his lips and cast Tang Bo an amused look, "Aren't you going to finally let him in?"

Tang Gunak would have if he didn't know that his son would begin to antagonize him the moment he's let into the room by monopolizing Chung Myung's attention and looking smug about it. It happened during their first meeting in the dining hall so Tang Gunak wouldn't be surprised if it happened all over again.

He would lean overly into Chung Myung's space and call him 'hyung' with an exaggerated tone despite being the older of the two. And much to everyone else's bafflement and discomfort, Chung Myung wordlessly let him.

While Tang Gunak was glad that his son finally deemed it alright to leave the confines of his room, he isn't sure if the change in obsession from the Plum Blossom Sword Saint to Mont Hua's Divine Dragon was a fair exchange.

Tang Gunak watches as Chung Myung makes his way to the window and leans against Tang Bo from the other side.

Tang Bo's face noticeably softens as his gaze shifts toward the younger man and it twists a strange part of Tang Gunak's stomach to watch the same thing happen to Chung Myung's face.

Said man taps against the glass pane, "Stop being so intense. You're freaking your dad out."

His son grumbles while tossing him another stink-eye—Tang Gunak has gotten his fair share of those this past week ever since these two struck up a sudden close friendship. His gaze turns petulant as he returns his attention to Chung Myung.

"What is it about me making friends that you hate so much," Chung Myung rolls his eyes in exasperation.

"My father doesn't want you to be 'just friends'."

Tang Gunak would be more offended by the vitriol in the way Tang Bo called him his father if he weren't distracted by the weird tone his son spoke the last phrase.

Tang Bo takes a look at the mutual confusion on Chung Myung and Tang Gunak's faces and isn't sure if he's thankful or annoyed that he's surrounded by painfully emotionally oblivious people.

Less competition but, at the same time, it's sometimes too embarrassing to watch the way Tang Gunak unconsciously acted around Chung Myung in private.

Tang Bo narrows his eyes. It's been more than a lifetime, surely his feelings will reach Chung Myung faster than his father's does. Right??

[sevensinswithin]

Okay so to everyone who was here for the original post, here’s basically how Alicent and Laenor get married in my lavender marriage au:

The entire thing starts because Alicent catches Laenor and Joffrey fucking in a secluded part of the castle a few weeks before Aemma dies. The boys only realize they’ve been caught because Alicent runs away from them like her ass is on fire. That girl had no idea gay male sex was an option in life and now needs to reevaluate everything in her life after catching them.

Laenor then spends the next few weeks trying to find a way to get her alone because guess what. Fucking in a secluded but also public area is not a good strategy if you want to keep your gay love affair a secret. So now Laenor is hoping to convince Alicent to stay quiet about what she saw because his dad seems to think he'll grow out of it (do not attack me, this literally happens in canon) and he doesn’t want anyone to know yet since it might impact who he’ll get married to eventually. Meanwhile Alicent is desperately trying to forget that she ever saw anything and doesn’t tell Otto about seeing Laenor and Joffrey because let's be real. This man said “childhood companions” like it was a slur in that one scene, so she knows that her father would do something with this information. Alicent does not want to be the reason Joffrey and Laenor are in trouble for their relationship. Nevermind that she’s suddenly having the realization that women liking women isn’t that far of a stretch after all.

Unfortunately, to everyone else in the world, it looks like Laenor is trying to court her and that Alicent is just trying to be very polite about his interest in her since she never wants to be alone in a room with him unless they’re around other people. Which is something that is totally normal and not weird at all. Why would you say otherwise?

Then Aemma dies and Otto sends her to see Viserys in his room and Alicent is now very stressed about something else in her life because she wants to do what her father says, but she also doesn’t want to betray Rhaenyra.

So during those six months after Aemma dies - which is apparently how much times passes between Aemma’s death and when Viserys decides to marry Alicent according to a HOTD article I read - Alicent, like in canon, is sent by her father to Viserys’ chambers and desperately hopes that her father’s ambitions won’t happen and that Viserys will simply see her as person that is supporting him in his grief.

(Life Hack: If you ever want to read an article and it says you have to make an account to read the rest of it, just go back to the google page you found it on, right click the link, and save the link as an HTML document. That lets you read the article without having to make an account. I found this out from someone on the internet and damn did it help when I wanted to access any account restricted article. Anyways, back to the plot.)

So to counteract that and make it so she’s less appealing to Viserys, Alicent always mentions Laenor and how fond of him she is during their talks. She also mentions how worried she is about Rhaenyra and her position as heir because there seems to be so many people that seem to be under the impression that they can replace her by having Viserys marry one of their daughters and convince him change his heir to one of the possible children he might have with those daughters.

Meanwhile, Laenor is absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Alicent is always around him and receptive to interacting with him, even though literally weeks before she avoided being around him like the plague. During this she also manages to wring out of him the fact that his parents (mainly Corlys, let's be real) are talking about potentially marrying Laena to Viserys and that he hates that idea as she’s way too young in his eyes for that. Eventually Alicent manages to find a way to be alone with Laenor and make him swear to secrecy about what she'll tell him because telling anyone might mean that his sister will actually have to marry Viserys. He does and she fills him in on what her father wants and what she’s attempting to do, and that she needs his cooperation to get him to at least appear like they’re courting.

So Alicent and Laenor put up the appearance that they’re at least attracted to each other to get people talking, which totally doesn’t ignite jealousy in Rhaenyra at the idea of Alicent being in love with her cousin. Cue Rhaenyra absolutely doing everything in her power to make Laenor appear like a loser to Alicent and the rest of the court. Alicent makes sure to get her to stop that shit real quick and tells Rhaenyra that she and Laenor are only pretending to be in love in order to avoid having to marry someone that would disrespect Laenor’s preference for men and disregard Alicent’s autonomy. Alicent also mentions that possibly marrying Laenor means that Alicent and Rhaenyra will be allowed to see each other very frequently as she will be Laenor’s wife and the Velaryons are often at court since they are related to the royal family. So now they have Rhaenyra on board.

Eventually the night before that one small council meeting where in canon Viserys announces that he’ll marry Alicent, Alicent “confesses” to Viserys that she’s in love with Laenor and that she wants to marry him, but that her father would never allow Alicent to marry Laenor because he and Lord Corlys dislike each other. She also lets it “slip” that Otto is very adamant that Viserys must have a male heir despite the fact that Rhaenyra has already been made heir, and that he sees Alicent as a potential bride for Viserys despite her unwillingness to marry her best friend’s father. She also sprinkles in the fact that Rhaenyra would be devastated at the idea of her father remarrying, especially if the bride in question were her best friend or even her little cousin (Yeah fuck you Corlys, you’re on thin ice for that and the grow out of it comment), and the fact that surely his wife would want him to defend his daughter’s claim to the Iron Throne from potential usurpers, which is something that would definitely happen if he had a son.

This causes Viserys to absolutely lose his shit, but Alicent calms him down and he sends her away from his chambers. However, not before Viserys hints that he would not dissolve a marriage between a highborn lady and lord if they eloped and consummated the marriage. So instead of heading straight to her rooms, Alicent instead books it to Laenor’s chambers. The two of them run off to a sept and convince a septon to marry them with a few commoners as their witnesses because they can’t take any nobles in fear of being stopped (and to also have the commoners spread the fact that Alicent and Laenor eloped). Then she and Laenor head off to Laenor’s chambers to consummate the marriage with the help of Joffrey, who they had stay in Laenor’s chambers so that no one would get him in trouble or notice that he was in the room with them during the consummation, and to have Alicent stay over so that people could catch them together in the morning and spread the news of her “ruined reputation”.

The next morning Laena bursts into Laenor’s chambers like she always does and “catches” them before running off to tell Rhaenys the way all little siblings do. So then Rhaenys and Corlys show up, as does Otto; he caught wind of the situation through a servant he paid off to spy on the Velaryons. Once there Otto starts shaming Alicent about her ruined reputation and Laenor retorts that she didn’t ruin anything as he married her before he bedded her. Otto then explodes at the pair when Laenor says that and Corlys rushes to defend his son against all the stuff Otto is saying and threatening him with.

Eventually their argument gets so loud that a servant rushes to get Viserys and a few guards since they’re afraid that the two lords will resort to violence. Trailing after them is Rhaenyra and the Small Council, as the meeting was supposed to start half an hour ago but certain people were missing and needed to be found. So now the entire Small Council, Rhaneyra, and Viserys are at the doorway of Laenor’s room while a furious Otto and Corlys trade insults. Meanwhile Rhaenys sees how afraid Alicent and Laenor are and rushes to the pair’s defense (because they need someone in their corner that isn’t shaming the other party), saying that perhaps the two wouldn’t have resorted to eloping if Otto and Corlys weren't always at odds. Seeing the King, Otto rushes to demand that he have the septon reverse the marriage, but Viserys reveals that he knows about Otto’s plan to make Alicent marry him and how he knows that she wished to marry Laenor instead. He then fires Otto from being Hand and sends him packing to Oldtown, approving of Laenor and Alicent’s marriage as a final insult to Otto. He also firmly informs the small council that he will not be getting remarried, that Rhaenyra will remain his heir, and that anyone who objects otherwise is speaking of treason.

So there you go, the outline for a story that I’m most likely going to write in non-linear bits. In this world Alicent is Lady of Driftmark, Laenor and Joffrey get to be happy, and Viserys prioritizes making sure that Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne is secure. Also somewhere down the line in this universe Rhaenyra and Alicent get their shit together and realize they’re in love with each other, and Rhaenyra gets to marry Harwin because Daemon never takes her to the brothel and so she gets to pick her husband and be the polyamorous bi queen we all love.

[kit-williams]

Anrir Husbandry

Husbandry tags: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@ms--lobotomy @nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @the-raven-lady

@bispecsual

Edit: forgot to thank @justahuman1757 for help with some of the translations and other help

Song on repeat: Cradles by Sub Urban (also most of the remixes for this SLAP)

tw: smut, yandere, obsessive behavior, manipulation

Anrir cooed at the little human in his arms finishing up singing them back to sleep знішчыць.... знішчыць... His voice carried low and softly. It was naptime... they needed to sleep as it was good for them of course they didn't seem to realize that. His long back hair was tied back into a slightly messy bun as his nearly completely black eyes dart around the pastel colored room just looking for anything wrong. His Dragă wanted to work with children in childcare and perhaps it took a couple of years to get here since he had first found her.

She was so much happier since he had first found her... happy about their bond... no more worry in her eyes... no more stress making her hands tremble or her loosing sleep... no more worrying about her next meal or if her car were to break... no more crying... well no more senseless crying. He puts the child down looking around at the sleeping forms but he cant help but grin as this really was all possible because of him, Anrir purrs softly at the satisfaction of how well he has done his job... and how he has covered his trail...

5 years prior

Anrir was a drifter... he drifted around as he had yet to find his own bonded, which given how some legions seemed to be more inclined to get a bond; with Night Lords being one of the ones with very few "feral" Astartes it was only a matter of time before Anrir would find his. But Anrir in all definitions was a feral Astartes having been unbonded since he arrived forty years ago. However, it was fine as Anrir hadn't spent that time just moping about he spent a majority of his time politicking and reuniting with other Terran Night Lords long dead and of course reuniting with those who were under his knife when they were aspirants and scouts which he affectionately called them his kids.

He was also using this time to take a break, a forced break, from running his warband; not that he could run it right now anyway. But he would mull over plans for when he returned back to his time period... if he did was another thought. His eyes moved up to the sky as he could smell the water gathering in the air. Which meant that the group he was with would start a debate on if they were going to settle down or continue on despite the weather. He did not care too much and decided to wander off to look around at where they were.

He walked out of the tree covering that the group was skulking through as he looked at the abandoned parking lot he had walked out into. It was rotting away neglected and abandoned as the painted lines were faded and practically gone, the pavement was cracked with plants growing through cracks; with the asphalt under his feet turning to gravel as plants come to reclaim this section of human infrastructure. And Anrir... he savored this reclamation of nature and decay of it all. Compared to the prison pit he was born into on the other side of the globe; he had already made his pilgrimage to the eventual site of his birth... a town full of people whose existence was never known as a great chasm of the guilty was there.

But that dark pit in the ground was not there now... there were no babies being born in that dark hellhole... his neck tattoo had a phantom itch as he is reminded why it was put on his neck... as he is reminded that at some point he was truly innocent... he is reminded of the hand gently petting his head... the soft voice cooing at him telling him how brave he was being... as he remembers having tears in his eyes as the ink is shoved into his skin... he gently starts to suffocate the memories of a child long gone and a woman paradoxically long dead and yet had yet to be born. His eyes flick to the far side of the quiet parking lot as a car just sits in the dark. The only other thing in this lot, far from the flickering road light... he could hear the annoying buzz of the light as it flickered... the flick... flick... flick... as it finally goes out. He moves with soft steps towards the vehicle as the summer insects scream their sonorous songs it was almost overstimulating for some of his brothers with how alive this planet felt with no foe to focus down on. Anrir felt his gums itch like he craved an oral inhalant and the way the hair on the back of his neck rose as he wandered closer not giving into the craving.

Anrir had seen many homeless humans both back in his own time and here. His eyes looked through the windows of the car seeing how it was lived in, he could hear the soft breathing akin to how someone was asleep... the slow beat of a heart was barely audible to him as the insects continued to scream their songs. There was nothing special about what he saw as it was a baseline female just buried under an assortment of clothes, a towel, a jacket, and some blanket... a bucket with a strainer lid to collect the impending rain... he chuckled at the cleverness but he understood the need to just survive. He turned to walk back to the others but something rooted him in place. He could practically taste the misery mixing with the rain. His throat tightened as it silently moved in foreign ways but he knew what he was trying to do... to mimic the noises they make at humans.

He lets out a dark chuckle as they were right... it really was something that he would know when it happened. Worry soon festered in his gut as his eyes roamed over her vehicle and while he hardly knew about how it worked he could see the signs of disrepair. His nose wrinkled for a moment as he unclipped his helmet from his hip, slipping it over his head as the rain finally let loose. He listened to the rain slap against the metal roof of the car, the way she moved inside her comfortable cocoon for a moment, and the way water was gathering in the bucket... Anrir had to do something.

You did your best to ignore the Night Lord that was hanging around. Affectionate bastards you were told as you remember those videos of just them being friendly. You shiver at the memory of that one gang member who thought he was so big... being homeless you quickly learned how sleeping near warbands meant that you had to ignore certain things... certain sounds especially at night. Astartes always scared you... you couldn't point to any incident that had happened involving them just that you got bad feelings from them... a certain type of dread. So it wasn't exactly like a fear of dogs but the way they looked and acted they were so human... why were they here... you make yourself look smaller as the Night Lord with what looked like a metal spider on his back sat next to you.

You hear him coo and trill at you trying to get your attention, his head tilting slightly as you could hear the slightly distorted trill to his voice from his helmet, and you did your best to ignore him. Eventually he did leave you alone and you had hoped that would be the last you saw him. But, every day for the next week he kept finding you... he would click and coo at you beckoning you closer with those armored claws of his. It was the last day in the week that you broke and approached him as you chose to fill your car with gas over eating and he had shown up with food. You feel tears gather with each bite as he trills down at you and you feel him hold you close... you hear his purr... you've seen this display online it was a bonding display. You do your best to not choak on the hot food as you can feel tears gather in the corner of your eyes, really the last thing you want is an Astartes bonding to you.

You feel the Astartis petting your head as you eat, trilling at you and you're certain if he wasn't in armor he would be purring. When you look up at him miserably he coos at you trying to sooth the clear distress you were in. His hands flexing each time you try to pull away from him, "You don't want me to be your bonded buddy," You finally speak up and that just breaks something in you and you feel those heavy tears roll down your cheeks even as you try to use the heel of your palm to rub your eyes clean they still fall, "I can't give you anything." Your voice cracks as you admit that.

Anrir sat there silently as you tried to reject the bond… he could feel it fraying at the edges like a lighter had been taken to it. But Anrir was calm even as his entire existence seemed to reel on its axis as you try to push it away. Your voice cracking gave way to the tears that ran down your face, his black eyes darting over your face as baselines crying was familiar to him given what he was but it felt so different… so wrong. Why are you letting her cry Anrir? A soft voice in the back of his mind seems to say. He could feel it fray more and more… but Anrir was aware that when a bond frays… it never attaches back normally. There was also a small high for him as would this be how he tasted death? Not after millennia of being alive just some mortal woman would be the death of him? He would have laughed if it actually broke but he pulled her against him and you did not make the effort to pull away… and so the bond repairs wrong. He did not need anything from you except you. 

How you lean against him trying to hide away. So he was okay if you couldn’t give him anything now. He didn’t expect you to give him anything in the first place… but a wicked thought plants itself in his mind. Perhaps it was old fashioned… after all he watched the radical social changes in a mere 40 years and yet like always the Astartes remained unchanged. But… why couldn’t he provide for you? Anrir was a capable Astartes and he did not survive this long by chance but memories flicker by of how generous others were towards their humans. He grinned darkly as he could recognize the signs now… oh… he had intensely bonded to you… he had read the manuals and grimoires both in person and on the noosphere… he had helped write some of those too… so he knew what to look for in terms of side effects and was filing away mental notes about his deviances. And as much as he wanted to act on those feelings Anrir was patient, he was an Apothacarion after all, and his Dragă needed to be taken care of. He purrs and chirps at her to calm her down and gets her to finish her meal.

Thrones, credits, souls, cash… it was annoying dealing with baselines as most societies revolved around needing a good or currency for things and this was not their reality or time period where refusing an Astartes was suicidal. He noted his lack of desire to skin the man yelling at his Dragă to get him to stop “loitering”. But he, like most Astartes, relied on each other and the complex network and ecosystem they built like a parasite on the infrastructure of what was already there or was it the other way around? The Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists would say they laid out efficient infrastructure… but he found resources; since it was no longer allowed to simply take humans as serfs anymore and just have them live in a base full time… not that the Night Lords had one yet. It would be a few more years till the base was operational and that would be a mustering point for most Night Lords in the area. But Anrir noted how jumpy his precious Dragă got at the idea of getting help from Salamanders or staying in a shelter; he was fine with her choice. He wrinkled his nose as her car was falling apart and he couldn’t fit in it and him being a Night Lord did not help his goal of getting money. However, Anrir had a long reputation having worked in the Consortium with Bile too being a prominent figure in his legion’s hierarchy, no matter how much he tried to stay out of the politicking, so when the Alpharii approached him he wasn’t too surprised. 

There were treaties and edicts that any Astartes had to agree to if they wanted to stay near the humans. Besides the obvious of not killing any humans; which before Anrir was bonded was a surprisingly hard ask, but they were not allowed to mettle with them. Technology was to be kept away from them at all costs, no extending their life spans, no augmetics beyond simple necessary prosthetics, and a few others. It all made sense as it was clear they were not ready at all for the horrors of the wider galaxy… no they would not play a hand into accidentally smothering humanity in the cradle because they helped them reach the stars earlier than they were ready for. But just like how human killers existed… and Night Lord trafficker Hunts happened… there was always some bending and breaking of these rules.

The Alpharii couldn’t help mettle in the affairs of the baselines, it was their legion’s expertise, they were information brokers and information hiders… they modified records to hide the sudden birth of a child from a woman and a Astartes… to all the way of covering up when forbidden technology falls into the hands of baselines and there needs to be a raid. They had their fingers in many pies as the saying goes… and Anrir could not play the moral high ground for their request. They weren’t supposed to extend the baselines lives… there was the crude method of giving them a transfusion of Astartes blood and hope they survive all the way to getting the chemicals and components needed for rejuvenation treatments. The latter took time to get what they needed as they could only synthesis so much being limited to what was only on this one planet; and it was hard to keep the Iron Hands from getting eager in “helping” them be able to colonize the Sol system. 

But… Anrir looked down at the old corrupt man. Such greedy creatures humans could be and Anrir could never be like his kin who were able to see themselves as being above humanity… Anrir was far too aware of his own humanity and also his own lack of humanity too. “How do I know it will work?” The old man interrupts Anrir’s explanation of what he will be doing in transplanting his heart, “You could be some… con artist.” He says with malice in his frail voice.

Anrir never liked nobles… and he was always surprised at how… self important they could be. His smooth voice answers the question before one of the Alpharii can speak, “My reputation,” He had asked the Alpharii before this and he was not bonded to any of them… he was very much a pawn that the Alpharii weren’t ready to loose yet, “your… companions wouldn’t have gotten me if they doubted my skills. The heart is made for you so there is no chance of rejection.” He says truthfully as it was child's play growing the organ for him.

Anrir voxes one of the Alpharii, “As for my payment for this?” He hisses letting his displeasure bleed through as how dare he speak to Anrir in such a way.

“Everything is set up in ways that won’t tip off the government officials to the sudden influx of wealth. And conveniently set up so that if you choose to help us again…” 

Anrir waved his armored hand over his shoulder as his medical mechadendrites unfolded like a spider on his back, “Yes yes you lot have me for several surgeries,” He goes through the process of setting everything for fine movements and working on humans, “But please be aware should anything go wrong in the payments that I can be quite spiteful.” He threatens and enjoys the place of power he is able to come from given how specialists are in such short supplies here and he is certain there is only one other Consortium member on the planet… he knows his expertise is invaluable he is certain he is on many lists to be kept alive.

“Of course Anrir.” Is all one says and that was good enough as Anrir headed into the prepared room.

You were happy that Anrir returned as he did keep you safe and maybe you were feeling those good vibes that people always say they get around Astartes. But now? You looked at what was holding out to you with apprehension. You’re sure that it was a thousand dollars in his hand and you felt hesitant to take it from him as no one just gives people money and not expecting something back… your spine crawls at a memory… He just sighs looking at you passively and perhaps a little annoyed, “Dragă. Go get your car looked at and get it fixed.” He says and you take the money from him as your AC had died and you’re certain that also meant your heating was gone… “Unless,” Your eyes returned to his face as your eyes picked up the bit of white at the roots of his sideburns, “You want to get a bigger vehicle?”

“But I can’t-” You start.

“Don’t worry about money for a second Dragă.” He says putting his hands on your shoulders.

You squirm under his gaze as you considered rejecting it as Anrir gave you such feelings that there was something else he was after… then again you never felt truly comfortable around Astartes… always a lingering sense of dread but… “Maybe… maybe we get something you can fit in as well. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You say softly as you’re certain those cars are far beyond what you can afford and from what you heard basically never break down. 

You hold your breath for a moment as Anrir cups your face, you could hear him trill at you, as he grinned down at you with a smile that you’re certain the devil himself would envy, “What a thoughtful Dragă.” Was all he cooed at you.

After that, with much fussing from him, he made you use the money to stay in a motel for a week and you don’t remember when the last time you ate so much food. Anrir in the meanwhile took care of things. You were torn on letting him do such as wasn’t this the reason you had a fallout with your family? Your hands shake at the memories… he ruined your life. Yet while you’re certain Anrir is doing the same thing… it feels different. Anrir only suggested what you use the money for never using it to tell you what to do… Anrir confused you but you took comfort in the thought that he wanted something from you that he could get at your absolute lowest… everyone says bonds are precious things so maybe you should trust him more.

Anrir makes sure he always has enough money on him as he was making sure that there was a positive association in your mind that he was able to provide for you. The fuss you made when he got the car customized so that you could live out of it as long as you wanted, he hopped it wouldn’t be much longer, but it was your choice and all he could do was nudge his Dragă. The excitement he felt rush up his spine when he heard you say “Anrir” in a specific tone… a tone he associated with his Dragă needing something… Dragă needed him to provide. Sometimes you were like a skittish animal only staying for the exchange but sometimes you lingered like an animal and he could get what he wanted from you too. He felt that dopamine rush as you tolerated his touches, the joy he felt when you let him cup your face, how loudly he purred as you let him nuzzle you, petting your head, or rubbing your back. He could still see the hesitation in your eyes… he could tell you weren’t as (warp blind) (bond blind) as other humans were and Anrir is fine with that in fact it made this all the more enjoyable for him.

Winter always comes too soon and once again Anrir brings up places you can stay over the colder months and as hard as you try you still can’t get rid of the feelings that if you acquiesce he will want something. Anrir himself is disappointed that you wont ask him for much more; he does use winter to get something he does want. He finally gets to hold you for as long as he wants, usually your whole sleep cycle. He’s slept in far worse spots and just being a little cramped is hardly anywhere near the list of worst rests he has had. He purrs loudly as you’re glued to his side or his chest at night. Cooing to you as you drift off each night with a full belly in his arms. Its hard not to drift off with how he purrs and the rhythmic beating of his twin hearts… this feels like it’s going to be an easy winter for once so of course you get sick as a dog.

“Poor Dragă.” Anrir’s voice breaks you through your sick haze as the chills don’t help but Anrir being so warm helps. “I know you won’t like this suggestion but as a health specialist I do recommend that perhaps it is time for you to live inside more regularly again?” You can barely hear the quiet engine over the Heater going, Anrir not allowing you to fuss about anything right now once more saying he had it under control, “Arata mizerabil... (Miserable looking…)” He says in Nostroman letting his tongue click as you bury yourself closer to his chest, feeling those ports dig into your skin, “At least something temporary, yes?” He says sounding a little worried, “Wouldn’t that be nice? A temporary place to stay till you find what you want to do?”

“Daycare.” You croak out.

“Hmm?” Anrir looks down at you cocking his head to the side surprised you answered him. 

“I want to take care of kids. I like taking care of kids. Don’t know why… so I want to start a daycare.” You say but you soon get weepy, “But who is going to let me do that. Look at me! I’m living in my car running away from my family and I can’t -” You stop your distressed rant as you cough and your nose plugs up again making it hard for you to breath and you can’t help but squirm in Anrir’s grip.

“Shh Dragă, I’ll take care of  you.” Anrir says softly a uncharacteristic gentleness in his voice you weren’t expecting from a Night Lord, “You don’t need to worry anymore, Dragă.” Again it’s a soft and warmth to his voice you didn’t know he could have, “Do you trust me?” He asks in a tone you have trouble reading. 

Bonds are supposed to be good things… that’s what everyone says… you have a companion for life… and you can tell that they get so much out of what we give them as they were clearly made for something far more violent. But… did you trust Anrir. No… you did not trust him as that feeling never goes away… “What do you want Anrir?” You finally say after a minute of silence.

“You, Dragă.” Anrir says quickly breathlessly.

Again you lay there silently thinking… you didn’t know what he wanted… was it really just being with you? You’ve been with him for months at this point and you couldn’t figure out what he wanted. You did research on bonds from what little you could find and everything kept coming back to just wanting to keep their bonded alive and safe. You were scared to let someone in your safe little world but you were so tired of keeping everything so tight to your chest. Maybe it was because you were sick but you nod and let out a heavy sigh softly saying, “I trust you Anrir.”

His reaction was immediate as he pressed his cheek to yours and you could feel the purring in your teeth as it was so loud, your finger bones felt like they were vibrating, but you didn’t feel the quick kisses that he leaves on your skin. You whimper at the sudden affection. It was anrir’s quirk as he was odd with his affection as whenever you would seek him out for affection he would smother you in his affection but you were okay with it because it was on your terms… your gut wouldn’t stop at the feeling that sometimes it was on his terms luring you in… He presses a kiss to your forehead trilling, his accent thick, “I don’t want you to worry any more my Dragă. I will take care of everything.” His black eyes seem to glitter in delight as he makes his declaration. And you just let go of that tension a bit more.

You don’t know how Anrir found this place, it had a horribly short lease but you knew that it was just to get you out of the weather… you’re certain this place wasn’t built for Astartes in mind so usually that meant they weren’t allowed. You guessed that the landlord looked the other way if said Astartes was paying in cash. It was small and cramped... but it was warm and you could store more than just a bit of food. You were sitting in the tub as Anrir sat on the side shirtless as his hands were massaging shampoo into your hair. You didn't need help with your hair but that didn't stop you from leaning into his hands as he helped you feel clean.

Anrir chuckled at your gentle groaning and moaning as it was clear you were enjoying yourself. He enjoyed helping you feel this way helping you clean and take care of you in this small way... he shivered as he was cleaning his Dragă... he wrapped his Dragă in a nice fluffy towel... he carried his Dragă to the bedroom and savored the laugh that left your mouth as he just tossed you onto the bed with a bounce.

You just laid there, eyes closed, enjoying yourself... sure there was only one bed which was fine as you had spent most of the winter snuggling up to Anrir in the car, it was not the most comfortable mattress in the world... the apartment was quiet...no it was never quiet not with the thin walls... but Anrir was quiet. You became aware of how you were just laying naked on the bed... alarms were going off in your head as you feel his smooth hands run over your knees, feeling his thumbs push into the side as he spreads your legs open slowly. This wasn't normal... and yet this felt like what everything was building up too... but you were always told that bonds were selfless things, right?

Your skin trembles as his hands move over your drying flesh, your breathing shivers, you can feel the bed shift as Anrir climbs onto it. Your throat bobs as you swallow the nervous energy but your eyes open as you feel the bare skin of his legs as he had divested himself of his pants. Anrir's silent still as he presses his scarred lips against your cheek, his body leaning over yours as he settles between your legs, and you feel his hand move to your chin to slowly turn you to meet him. His lips dragging against your flesh as the scarred flesh presses against your own lips. You were close enough that you could tell that his eyes were not fully black... you could see the dark blue of his iris darting with micromovements as he took in your face. But, you could see the predator in his eyes... but it was something more the term hyper-predator comes to mind because what monsters would someone like Anrir need to hunt?

Anrir presses his mouth to yours more and you close your eyes allowing the kiss to deepen. Anrir had been nothing but good to you... but you worry... would he use this against you? You desperately hope that he wouldn't. "Mina..." His voice rumbles like thunder as his hands drag across your flesh in a way that feels dominant and possessive. You can't stop the shuddering moan that leaves your mouth as his mouth moves against the front of your neck, licking the way your throat moves in its swallowing motion. "Toate ale mele… (All mine...)" He says whispering to you in a language that you don't know, "Fiecare parte din tine… toată a mea… trupul și sufletul tău. (Every part of you... all mine... your body and your soul.)" He says again as Anrir presses his cock against your entrance. His mouth continuing its worship of your neck and chin as you open your eyes slightly and just watch Anrir with lidded eyes. He cups your face as his tongue presses hard on your lower lip before pushing his tongue back into your mouth just kissing you hard.

You knew you had fringe thoughts about Astartes... Anrir was just proving to you one thing... that they were far too human to ignore. Far too human and far too predatory... you could never get that feel good emotion from Anrir... from any Astartes really. They were all predators... they were man made monsters made to fight monsters that you didn't know would exist beyond the silver screen of Hollywood or the writings of horror writers. He pulls his mouth away trilling at you and pausing when he sees the look on your face. You were looking at a predator looking at prey a malicious looking thing that tried to play the part of a friendly thing... a wolf playing the role of a dog. "Anrir."

"Yes Dragă." He says as a hand cups your face.

"What do you want?" You again ask... because... you don't think he's lying about the bond but this wasn't normal? You felt everything rushing anxiously to a point.

"You, Dragă." He says devotedly.

You were tired... so tired of being on your own for years before Anrir came. Oh how much Anrir had helped beyond just the money he gave you and the food... just being here... even if it was wrong... even if... you were so tired. You pull Anrir into a kiss as you didn't want to think anymore! You didn't want to worry any more... you whimper as Anrir just purrs loudly as you decide to let Anrir take care of it... take care of you... just for today you tell yourself as you melt into the embrace.

You feel the slight discomforting sensation of your walls spreading open as his cock slowly pushes in. When it becomes too much your hand or foot pushes against his chest which makes him stop till your brow stops furrowing and you for him to continue. This continues until his hips are flush with yours and Anrir hisses in delight, "Atât de strâns atât de bine cu mine… draga mea… a mea. (So tight so good to me... my dear... mine.)" You once more don't understand him but you decide to not worry about it as he starts moving. Your thighs burn slightly at the stretch to have them spread open wide for Anrir to thrust into you. Your eyes close as you focus on the feeling and enjoy that he doesn't ask you to look at him but that doesn't stop him from talking, "Mă simți fată frumoasă? (Do you feel me pretty girl?)" He trills in that unknown tongue, "Te concentrezi pe penisul meu din interiorul tău? (Are you focused on my cock inside of you?)" He asks something else perhaps not realizing or caring that you don't understand him.

He picks up the pace as he pants down at you and you just yowl and moan in pleasure. Porn making everything feel so fake when real sex sounds so unsexy at times but you had no need to make things sound sexy or be perfect. You could hear Anrir chuckle at an unflattering noise you make as he slams his hips into yours again making you repeat it. Eventually things feel tighter and more anxious as Anrir tilts you slightly so his cock pushes into you at a downward angle and you just laugh at the unflattering squeak and squawk that you make. Anrir laughs with you at all those weird and all those distinctively you vocalizations but you just don't care as no one is telling you that you're being unappealing... you throw your head back and arch up as you earned the right to not worry. You moan loudly moaning his name as you feel so good! You earned this reward! You deserve this... you deserve to just let go... you orgasm with little fan fair... just a simple gasp.

You feel so good... everything feels so good as Anrir continues to chase his release, the feeling of a bed against your back, the fuzzy climbdown from an orgasm, the oily drop of sweat from Anrir that lands on your shoulder, and the comforting stutter from him that stutter causes you to open your eyes to watch his brow furrow and you watch how surprisingly expressive he gets as he cums.

The apartment is mostly quiet... as quiet as you can get with thin walls... you lay there with him not thinking about anything... not thinking as you feel his cock softening against your inner thigh. He lets out a loud breath as he lays back in bed in his spot as you meanwhile are pushing away the worry about the consequences of sleeping with Anrir. You cuddle against his side, his arm wrapping around you, you feel the cum ooze out of you ... you're still tired of thinking... you're so tired of it... so tired of worrying why and what Anrir was doing for money... You put your head against his chest over his hearts ignoring the discomfort of the ports against your face... you just listen to the way his hearts beat.

Present day

You were in a much better spot than when you were a couple of years ago... you actually came into money, no it wasn't a rich distant relative dying but it was another person you had camped with when you were homeless. They had actually won the lottery and were being smart with it, which you think was more so their Ultramarine had helped in making smart choices. Though you had your suspicions... the Alpharii... a few seem to come by every few months some to coo at the kids, eager to find a bonded, and some to talk with Anrir as you watched them take containers from your home. But being given money you sudden just kept finding yourself with more money and it was stupid how much money you got after investing some of it... you didn't want to question it and Anrir was very good at distracting you.

Oh speaking of Anrir... he got you so many gifts. He would still give you random bouts of cash but he was finally acting more and more like how a bonded Astartis is supposed to act. You also were seeing how talented he was with his hands as besides his occupation you discovered his macabre hobby that all Night Lords seem to have... bone scrimshawing and taxidermy. You could point out all the time that he acted like a normal bonded Astartis and yet at the same time... how many gestures were more. You got outfits, jewelry, wines, your current house, and hell even your job you know he had a hand in financing... it spiraled out of control with his gifts that your friends noticed and asked who your 'sugar daddy' was or rather if he had any friends.

You smile warmly and wave goodbye as the last child finally gets picked up. You head back inside letting out a soft exhale and start picking up the room not getting very far into cleaning up when Anrir wraps his arms around you and purrs into your shoulder... purring into where he tattooed you years ago. You feel him give a playful tug onto the choker collar that he made for you, expensive thing and you know he liked you wearing it. You were lucky that no one asked you what Anrir was... everyone just assumed he was a Raven Guard...

"I can smell your worry Dragă." He says nipping your earlobe.

"I'm just tired Anrir."

"Then lets go home." He kisses your cheek.

"But I have stuff to pick up-"

"And this is why we hire others to clean," He says gentle cocking his head to the side, "You're worried about something." Anrir takes the toy from your hands as you pick at the seams.

You let out a heavy sigh bringing your thumb to your lips, "I'm just scared everything is about to go wrong." Anrir takes your hand to stop you from biting your nails.

"And if it does... I will take care of it." Anrir says with such certainty and authority that makes you believe him.

The breath in your chest you let out with a heavy sigh, "Okay." You nod.

He tugs on your choker bringing you close for a kiss as he trills softly, "I will always take care of you my frumoasă dragă (beautiful darling)." And you chose to believe it.