#spectacled mouse

[autumnmylife]

Beatrix Potter (British author & illustrator) 1866 - 1943 Spectacled Mouse Reading a Newspaper, 1890 fine ink and watercolour drawing, mounted 12.5 x 7.0 cm. (4.92 x 2.76 in.) signed and dated lower right corner "HB.P. | 1890." private collection

[diejager]

more eldritch:konig X his darling mermaid, please & thank you

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.2

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, breeding kink, protective König, hunting, oviposition, tentacles, eggpreg, stomach bulge, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, possessive behaviour, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

Prev

You hadn’t seen the sun in a while, neither had you gone hunting, nor seen your parents. You missed the freedom you had, swimming and racing the others mers your age through the coral reefs, that mundane, but fun activity you did once in a while when everyone gathered at the same spot.   

“Please, König, I just want to lay in the sun!”

“Nein, the outside world is dangerous, Schatz, ” his tone seemed apologetic, eyes cast down, avoiding your tearful eyes that gleamed beautifully from the bioluminescent plants, “I cannot.”

That was what he always told you, his words repeated on themselves, overlapping in your mind without holding much intent of substance to it. Why would it when all he told you was no? His excuses were getting old, they rarely changed over the few months he kept you in his cave, the little haven you grew to love now became a prison, a pretty cage to keep you locked away from the world you were born into. They always had an aspect in common: danger. He would say that it was too dangerous for you, that there were horrors living around his cave and wandering too closely to the edge you found him, the precipice of light and darkness that he stalked you from. If it wasn’t that, he’d push strongly that you could be taken away from him, caught and eaten by another Eldritch Horror that didn’t have the same obsession and favorability for pretty things like you. 

He slowly approached you, arms reaching out towards you to embrace you, his fingers finding the softness of your hips. Kneading the line between your skin and scales, thumb smoothing over your opalescent scales, the smooth surface of it that helped you swim as swiftly as you could. You were a quick, little mouse, able to outrun him if you put enough effort and intention in it to escape his limbs. You shuddered against him, looping your arms around him for comfort that he never kept from you, often reminding you that he loved you and that he would do anything for you —except give you back your freedom.  

You sobbed, a heart-wrenching cry slipping out of your pout, your glossy lips pulled down while pearly tears floated upwards, the density of your tears weighing less than the heaviness in his cave, a closed-off ocean of horror he painted over with enthusiasm and comfort. He whispered sweet words to you, smaller tentacles slipping under his hood to cradle your face. They acted as individual fingers, holding your face as if they were hands holding your chin up, curling under your jaw and eyes with the smooth side of his limbs, keeping the suckers away from your pretty face. He touched you so gently, careful to never break your skin or dirty the angelic image he had of you in his sickened mind. He wrapped himself around you, his thicker limbs latching onto you with the intention of never letting go, curling and looping around one another. The messy bundles kept you stuck to him as you whined, crying out the frustration and sadness you felt throughout your situation.

“Hush, don’t cry, mein kleiner Schatzi,” he wiped away your tears, and collected them between the suckers of his arms, watching them gleam with an opalescent shine, much like those of black mollusc shells. They were a spectacle, a beautiful thing coming from his precious mate, “We can go out when it is safe, ja?”

You nodded your little head, closing your eyes and nuzzling against his broad chest, the softness of his scarred skin that easily moulded to fit your shape. It was strange how easily he changed to fit your liking, to answer to your whims despite your protest or your reluctance. You couldn’t hate him, you simply couldn’t after all the things he did for you and how well he cared for you. Perhaps you’d fallen for him, falling so deeply in this hole of unwilling darkness and strange affection —your naivety working against your betterment and with his mind, dark and wretched. Despite your wails and frustrations towards König, he was all you had, all you had known for the past months, so you sought comfort and safety from him, unknowingly falling into his plan. 

You let him lead you away from the open entrance, down the wide gate of his - your - room to lay you down, unable to move from the confines of his many arms and the warmth he provided. König was warm, he’d always burned hot compared to the cold waters of the abyss, the swirling vacuum of freezing water that seemed to have no end and the surface that stayed cool despite bathing under the sun for half the day. You thrived on warmth, soaking it up to keep your metabolism going, to be able to function without crashing or slowing down, you needed it and you depended on König to keep you warm. 

He pressed down on you, his broad figure looming over your smaller and fragile one, casting a dark shadow with his sole presence. He brushed your hair away, the tip of his tentacle tickling your ear as he murmured temptation, his wide palms leaving your hips to trail down the curve of your navel, teasing the dilated hole of your core, blinking and oozing out slick. He pressed a finger in, listening to you mewl and squirm in his tight hold, your tail twisting and turning before ultimately bucking into his palm when he slid a second one in. He watched your pretty lips part in a gasp, eyes rolling back in pleasure, your lashes fluttering so prettily for him. You felt him everywhere, he was inside of you and all around you, his many arms working as extensions of his presence, teasing you with his little suckers, pulling and biting at you. 

“Let me ease your mind,” his mask rose over his nose, tentacles parting like curtains to kiss you. It was all teeth and aggression, his kiss turning into a sign of possession, marking you with his taste and scent. He didn’t have any lips, or lips similar to yours, they were flat, hidden by a moustache of tentacles, thinner and shorter than his other ones, “Help you relax.” 

They easily slipped into your mouth as he pumped you, fingers curling into the softer part of your cunt. You mewled, rutting back, walls clamping down on his fingers, their thick and rough textures doing you in with the flick of your swollen nub once he coached it out of its protective sheath. He slipped the straps of your bra down your shoulder, letting the cup sag enough to show your pretty nipples, perky and glistening, tempting him to kiss and bite at them. In his rush, he snapped your bra from the middle by the girth of his tentacles, curling around your tits to knead and play with your little nubs, covering them with a sucker and he pulled, the ride closing around it and pulled. You clamped down on him, your slick sticking to his hand as you burst, eyes rolled back so far that all you could see was the white. König admired you, his eyes gleaming with glee at your climax, helping you ride it out with slow pumps of his fingers. He watched your pupils dilate, steadily coming down from your high with laboured breathing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he smiled under his hood, his eyes creasing in the low light. They roved over your face, over your hooded eyes and your parted mouth, down the slope of your neck and the swell of your breasts, and ending at your cunt, your labia closed around two digits, slick and throbbing. “You drive me crazy, Schatz.”

He was panting, his body riled up with how much his many limbs were swaying, latching onto you and hungrily climbing over you. He mumbled incoherent words, his pretty blues turning a bright red, a bloody crimson that made you feel apprehensive, fear and anxiety spiking in your mind despite the pleasurable buzz. You peered down when you felt something nudge your finger-filled cunt, looking at a particular-looking tentacle. It was harder and slick, the tip cylindrical-like with a long shaft and covered in veins, much like the ones on his arm, bulging and throbbing. You were oblivious to its use, confused about the different shape, but once it moved, the leaky head enthusiastically dipping into you, you panicked. 

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, the engorged head of his arm pushing into you, guided by a hand, pumping himself to spread the slick and pre that gathered around his cock. You keened, head thrown back when he bottomed out, the veiny girth of his cock throbbing inside of you. His cock rocked into you, pulling out until his tip lingered, and your labia stretched around his thick rod before he rammed in so suddenly. It rocked you as a whole, your smaller figure jerked back with every hard thrust, your cervix feeling the brutality of his strength and devotion. You screamed, writhing in his restrictive hold, cunt battered by a hard, leaky cock with a flared tip, bulbous and smooth. 

“Scheiße, you’re tight,” he groaned out through gritted teeth, feeling your walls stretch as wide as you could to welcome him despite his size and girth, your pussy becoming wet and sloppy with the amount of slick you produced. You pulsed around him, still sensitive from your last orgasm, clit and nipples swollen and twitching under his tentacles. He could feel everything, jolts sent down his arms followed by a euphoric sensation that ran through his mind, leaving him pussydrunk, mumbling out praises, “Du fühlst dich so gut an. Scheiße – so süß, so nass.”

You felt like you would burst, ploughed open by König’s cock arm, warm wall milking and sucking him deeper, coaxing him to fill you up with him. Your lover’s pace grew frantic, snapping harshly and deeply as if to leave a lasting presence in your innermost part, to mould your pussy into the shape of his cock and his alone, rendering you impossible to be pleasured by the sheer size difference between him and others of his kind. With a few precisely, but sloppy thrusts, he had you gushing around him, back arching - as much as you could with his strong grip - pussy clamping down on him as he fucked you into the soft algae-covered surface. You blacked out, euphoria filling your hazy mind, slick dripping down the sides of your tail and your nerves were set alight with blinding fires, burning through you so strongly. 

König swore lowly, his chest rumbling against yours, his cock throbbed and his arm stuttered, pace growing unsteady as the whole length of his arm pulsed with a load of cum. He gave one last thrust, roughly slamming into your gummy cervix, before a rush of cum shot out of his tip, flooding your womb with hot, white cum. It clung to the wall of your womb like glue, coating your cunt in the same adhesive and warm substance. He groaned, nuzzling his face in your bared neck, falling victim to his wandering mouth, biting and lapping at your shoulder and throat. His whole body shook, laboured breaths kissing your sensitive skin as something travelled through the length of his shaft, small bumps varying in size, from small pearls to big grapes, steadily moving towards the flared head of his cock. 

You sobbed when the first egg struggled against the entrance of your womb, breaking through the firmness of your soft entrance. It pained you, the forced pop into your virginal womb that wasn’t made to take in, but push out. Your cries were shushed by König, his reassuring words mixed with his heavy breathing that did little to dampen the pain he put you through. The first egg dropped into your womb, sticking to the walls, and another quickly joined it, plopping down beside it, weighing heavily by every egg, adding to the heaviness inside of you. 

“You’re doing so well,” he brushed away your tears, his thumb gently cradling your cheek, groaning and grunting at the rising eggs and his flared tip unravelling to latch onto your whole cervix, “Just a few more, ja? I am almost done.”

His “a few more” were more so dozens than anything, stuffing you until you bloated slightly. You were exhausted, limbs as heavy as your stomach did, eyes fluttering through your hazy sight, dancing on the edge of sleep and consciousness. Perhaps if you closed your eyes, falling asleep in this moment, you’d wake up from this as if it were a nasty dream, finding yourself in your little cave near the surface of the ocean. Perhaps this was all but a nightmare made up by your anxious and paranoid mind from all the stories you’ve heard from your parents and the elders. You were tired after all, sleeping wouldn’t be so bad to regain all the energy you wasted, and you hoped - that if this was your reality - that König would take care of you for doing this to you, for enrapturing you with all his madness and devotion.

You still missed the sun, the warm rays when you laid beneath it, just over a rock, but it was a far memory, further than you were willing to confess. You’d already grown used to his overbearing presence, his lingering eyes and wandering limbs, keeping one wrapped around your waists, your wrist or on your back, you’d gotten used to ignoring him and his dark eyes, bleeding into your world like the blood that stained the waters when he caught a live fish to feed you. 

He fit you in his schedule, a routine he practised on a daily basis without a fault. You would wake up with a wail, coming all over his tentacle at least twice before he left you alone for the morning. He would go hunting after making sure that you were comfortable on your little perch, returning an hour or two afterwards with enough food for the whole day and a few shiny trinkets to try to appease your sorrowful heart. They were pretty, shimmering and glinting under the bioluminescent light, similar to the pretty pearls and seashells you would collect. Despite his intentions, it only reminded you of a life long gone, one that you unknowingly and willingly gave up when you took his hand that fateful day, condemning you to a life of darkness and solitude. 

Then he’d spend the day with you, caring for your round stomach, rubbing soothing circles on your aching body, gently working the kinks and knots out of you. He provided for you, feeding you, soothing your pains, courting you with gifts and loved you with the entirety of his sickened heart. Your every need was taken care of, your hunger fulfilled, be it shark meat (a rarity for your kind of mermaid), squid or tuna, and your excitement satisfied with his cock, fingers, tentacles or mouth, eager to stuff you full despite your womb being grossly swollen with his progeny. He was fiercely protective, letting you out once in your month-long gestation, giving you the freedom to wander close to the ridge with a long arm wrapped around your waist. He never let you wander too far from him and never without a piece of him attached to you, clinging onto you as if you two were a singular entity —you probably were at this point, his thoughts and words echoing in your mind against your reluctance to accept him. 

“Mein kleiner Schatzi,” he called, laying his head on your shoulder, his hood hanging over you. He forced you on his lap, snuggling up to you as he curled - loomed - over you while he shamelessly let his hands rove over your swollen stomach, feeling the grooves and bumps of his eggs, “You are very round. One more month and we will have little Satansbraten.” [Mischievous child]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @0-ramen-0 @dreamdiaries777 @under-the-dirt @ajadell @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @mushroompasta @skystreamchan @kaelysia @notspiders @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @lilpothoscuttings @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[zablife]

A Cozy Night in with Tommy

Tommy Shelby x female reader

A/N: Wrapping him in a blanket and putting logs on the fire, requested by @brummiereader. Children's story referenced is the Aesop fable The Lion and the Mouse. Part of my Corrupt a Wish challenge.

Warnings: drinking, unwanted advances, bodily harm Corrupt a wish reminder: If you think this story has a happy ending, you haven't been paying attention. Proceed with caution!

"A lion lay sleeping in the forest...," a soft voice lilted, the melodic tone wafting into Tommy's office like a gentle spring breeze.

Removing his spectacles and dropping back into his chair to listen, Tommy hummed in contentment. This was his favorite part of the evening because it signaled the beginning of the children's bedtime routine. Within the hour, you would be here with him, reading your own book quietly on the sofa as he finished his paperwork and stole glances across the room.

It had taken weeks for you to feel comfortable enough to accept his nightly invitation, thinking it improper to be alone with a man twice your age whom you'd just met. However, you acquiesced as the pained look of sorrow grew in his eyes.

Frances explained he'd lost two wives under tragic circumstances which left him an achingly lonely widower. Upon hearing this, your kind heart urged you to look after him. It was the least you could do considering his benevolence, offering you shelter when you came to him for help.

Now you'd been with the Shelbys six months and you'd made it your duty to bring cheer to the entire household. One thing the family seemed to enjoy was your storytelling and though Mr. Shelby didn't often finish his work in time to join you, you always hoped he was listening.

You had no way of knowing he cracked his door at the same time each night, straining to hear every word. In fact, he was in rapt attention at that very moment. When you imitated the roar of the lion followed by the high pitched squeak of the captured little mouse, he couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lips.

"Spare me! Please let me go..." you begged in an overly exaggerated plea, clasping your hands in prayer dramatically until Charlie and Ruby erupted in giggles at your theatrics.

However, little Ruby soon turned pensive. "Does the lion hurt the mouse?" she gulped, clutching onto your sleeve.

The contact startled you as Ruby had been decidedly standoffish, unwillingly to accept any sort of mother figure so quickly after the death of her own. You placed an arm around her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. "No, he's quite generous," you assured her.

By the time you'd finished, Tommy was relaxing with whisky tumbler in hand, trying to be patient as you answered the children's questions about the moral of the story.

"It's about repaying debts," Charlie nodded solemnly. "Dad says a person should always pay their debts. Do mice?" he pondered, tilting his head to think for a moment.

You giggled at the firm assertion and his businesslike tone, so much like Mr. Shelby at times. "Well, according to this fable they do," you conceded. "But more importantly it's about kindness and how it's never wasted." Ruby hugged you tightly in reply, proof that the time you'd spent with the Shelby family was bringing her out of her shell.

Your heart swelled at the notion, a contentedness coming over you as you tucked the children into their beds and watched them snuggle beneath the covers. With a feeling of satisfaction, you skipped happily down the stairs toward Mr. Shelby's office in hopes of brightening his evening as well. Only then would you feel your day was complete.

However, the moment you glimpsed his hunched postured and tense looking jaw in the fading firelight, you paused. He seemed as though he were considering something of great importance and you were reluctant to disturb him. "Is everything alright, Mr. Shelby? Would you like to be alone?" you asked, peering into the shadows of his office.

He slowly raised his head from the desk, exhaustion evident in his bloodshot eyes. "'M fine," he mumbled before straightening in his chair. "Come," he urged with a wave of his hand.

In accordance with your nightly routine, you crossed to the fireplace and carefully added enough wood to last until you retired. However, as you turned to select a book from the large shelves by the desk, the now roaring fire illuminated Mr. Shelby's face, which was much paler than usual. Your fingertips lingered over the spine of a leather-bound volume as worry began to crease your brow.

Noticing your hesitation, Tommy asked, "Haven't found what you're looking for?"

You shook your head softly to indicate that wasn't the problem. Meeting his gaze earnestly, you ventured, "I hope you don't find this presumptuous, Mr. Shelby, but I think you could do with a bit of rest. You look unwell."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a heavy sigh. The silence that followed set you on edge, wondering if he might correct you once again. He was insistent you call him Tommy, but the informality of it still seemed disrespectful.

As you studied his graying temples for a hint of what he might be thinking, Tommy revealed the problem. With gravel filled voice he admitted, "It's true, I can't sleep...haven't been sleeping for some time now."

You felt an ache bloom in your chest at the thought of his suffering, wishing you could ease his discomfort. Without hesitation you complied with his request to join him on the sofa, happy to see he was taking your advice.

Removing the cozy blanket from the back of the sofa, you lightly draped it over his shoulders. With a warm smile, you offered to read aloud while he closed his eyes. However, he politely declined as he reached for your hand instead. Your heart skipped a beat as his long fingers closed over yours, giving a gentle squeeze.

"I like having you close to me, Y/n. Say you'll stay." His penetrating gaze made you feel small beside him and a ripple of anxiety coursed through you at the thought of confiding your plans for the future.

You took a deep breath for courage as you explained, "Mr. Shelby, I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kindness, but it isn't my intention to rely on charity the rest of my life," you began. "I've taken a job so I won't be a burden to you any longer."

His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly at your statement. He disliked the news coming from you even less than Maggie at the exchange. She'd dutifully informed him of every call you made to town inquiring about job opportunities for young women. It was the beginning of his many sleepless nights, wondering how he might keep you here.

When your plans sounded like idle gossip, they were easy to ignore. Now the threat of you leaving was real and immediate. He knew he had to do something drastic. Opposite hand rising to stroke your cheek with his knuckles, his sharp blue eyes darted to yours as he blurted, "Marry me."

"I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, head spinning at his overly familiar show of affection. In all the time you'd spent with Mr. Shelby, he'd never once touched you. You felt it had to do with the respect he held for you, or at least that's what you told yourself until now.

"Mr. Shelby..."Tommy," you corrected yourself. "I'm very fond of you, but you've been like a father to me. So you see, I couldn't possibly mar..."

Before you could finish the thought, you felt the rough, chapped skin of his lips brushing against yours. He was tender at the start, but the first taste of you only made him hungry for more. Deepening the kiss, he slipped his tongue into your mouth roughly, making you startle.

He paid no attention to the way your body stiffened, a firm hand coming to rest at the back of your head. Locking you in place, his opposite hand unclasped from yours to roam your supple curves. Heart slamming against your ribcage, you tried to speak, but only a pathetic squeak emerged.

Tommy chuckled darkly, the innocent cry reminding him of the little mouse from the fable. He not only found your shock amusing, but arousing as well. Although you tried to jerk away, he forced your hand higher on his thigh until you brushed against the growing bulge in his trousers, making his need for you apparent. "I've been more than patient with you, darling."

"What do you mean? Please, you're scaring me," you pleaded in a quivering voice. As his teeth grazed the column of your throat, a strangled cry escaped. "Stop!"

He pulled his face from the crook of your neck, a storm of emotion passing through his eyes. You watched them darken menacingly as he wound his fist in your hair and gave a harsh tug. "I don't think you understand how this works. You came to me, remember?" he emphasized, tilting your neck back at an awkward angle. "Show a bit of gratitude," he scolded.

Tears pricking your eyes, you countered, "I know you don't want to hurt me."

The force he was exerting over you proved otherwise, a sneer curling his lip as he watched you tremble under him. "I gave you everything," he spat. "For what?" he asked rhetorically, tossing you away in disgust.

"Kindness is never wasted," you implored, reciting the message from the fable you so fervently believed.

Tommy scoffed at your childlike naïveté. "You've mistaken my kindness for weakness, love. You have no idea what I'm capable of," he threatened. Then with all the rage of a spurned man, he grasped your throat.

Fingers clutching onto his wrist, you silently pleaded with him for mercy, but his grip only tightened in response. "Spare me," you mouthed, unable to croak out the words.

Tommy shook his head at your request, "I won't let you go."

As you slowly lost the fight against him, he leaned down, stubbled cheek brushing against yours to place a kiss. The low whoosh of blood in your ears nearly drowned out his final declaration whispered calmly into the night. "You belong to me."

-----------

Tag List:

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@novashelby

[gingernut1314]

Don't Jinx It ch. 5

Summary: Silco comes to visit you at work to let you know he has a surprise to show you.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, Nadia is Viktor's mom, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, pre-Sheriff Grayson, reader using water manipulation, unrequited love, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, The Gray)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: so I'm still SCREAMING over those Vander flashbacks and Silco--SILCO my loveeee. So we're giving Silco long hair as per canon eheheeheh its perfect. Also we're aged up a bit now so lots of fun! I hope you all enjoy!

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Act 2: 

Four Years Later

For the past year or so the same small batch of enforcers visited at your Boss’ diner-shop. A batch of enforcers you were convinced your boss only let in cause she had made friends with their Sergent. A one Ms. Sergeant Grayson. 

You, Nadia, and Sevika watched Grayson and Boss laugh together in the booth they occupied, chatting with each other like they’d known each other their whole lives. 

“I still don’t get it.” Sevika gruffed, slicing into a gray-scaled fish you two had helped catch that morning. “Boss hates enforcers. Spits on their shiny gold badges any time she spots one, but she’s all but eating out of the palm of that one's hand.” 

“They’re fucking.” You chimed in from where you leaned against the counter watching the spectacle unfold before you. “They have to be fucking. That’s the reason.” 

“So vulgar.” Nadia shook her head at you two, nose wrinkled at your words. “Maybe Boss has just made a friend in her. Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, no. You’re right.” Sevika started, beginning to slice the pink flesh of the fish into tiny strips. “Boss definitely’s been in her. That’s for sure.” You laughed while Nadia huffed. 

“You two are barbarians.” You flipped around, snatching a bit of sliced fish Sevika had just cut. You grabbed for a second slice before you had even shoved the first into your mouth, the woman chopping her knife all too close to your fingers in her way of telling you to knock it off. 

“You know we can’t help it, Nadia.” You mumbled around chews, the fish nearly melting on your tongue. You offered the second slice to Nadia who took it gently. 

“Unfortunately, I do know.” She huffed, taking a small bite from the bit of fish. 

“You coming to hang out with us tonight?” You asked Nadia hopefully. 

“Forgive me.” You gave a dramatic groan Sevika mimicked. “Nikolai and I are taking Viktor to spy on the newest…eh…flying…ship?” You quirked a brow at her as she bit another near-mouse-sized bite from her slice of fish. 

“Airship?” 

“Yes!” She beamed at you, “I prefer to keep my eyes on the earth and my paints but you know how my boy is.” You nodded, peaking a glance at the fish Sevika was still cutting up. 

“He still gonna build me that mini-fridge?” You joked, slyly inching your fingers closer and closer to the bits of fish. Nadia chuckled at your words. 

“I think in the near future, yes. He’s slowly beginning to toy with bigg--” You yelped when Sevika snatched hold of your wrist and yanked you closer. 

“You keep being a little seagull and Boss’ girlfriend is gonna have none.” You smirked up at her. 

“You think that’s it? They're together together?” Sevika gave you a long roll of her eyes, releasing your wrist. “It’s a perfectly tragic story. Two enemies turned lovers yearning for each other despite everything.” You gave a playful gasp. “They’re forbidden lovers.” 

“You two need to stop meddling in their business. They just seem to be friends.” Nadia chimed in. 

“You’re right, Dee. Enemies to friends to lovers.” Sevika joined in once more, taking a slice of fish and tossing it your way. You caught it just as Nadia sighed deeply. “Makes it even more tragic.” You gave a mockingly mournful nod. 

“You two are insufferable.” She popped the last of her fish into her mouth before she went back to her tables. Tables you and Sevika had purposely made sure were other like Undercitians, not wishing Nadia to be near the true barbarians of the night. 

Nadia was kind. Too trusting of others and both of you feared it would only lead to an enforcer getting the wrong idea.

You and Sevika, on the other hand, had no problem letting those bucket heads know just where they could shove it. And if they needed a bit of help neither of you had any problems doing it for them.

You had just shoved your newest piece of fish into your mouth when the bell hanging above the door gave a ring. 

“Better tell him it’s not a good time before Boss kills him,” Sevika spoke, gray eyes looking to who had just walked in. Excitement shot through your chest fast at her words, knowing exactly who she had spoken them about in moments. 

You tried your best to not whip around in your search for him. You didn’t want him to actually think you were excited to see him. No…nope. Not at all.

Silco’s seafoam gaze found you instantly, a small smile tugging to his lips as he walked over. 

“You have two minutes Silco,” Boss called from her booth, her eyes not lifting once from her glass of wine, which she gave a small swirl. “Before I let this one take you back with her to Piltover.” 

“Be gone in one,” Silco responded, Boss giving a heavy sigh.

Grayson, despite her being a horrid badge-wearing oppressor, was fair. She was one of the very few enforcers, maybe even the only enforcer, who didn’t have a stick shove so far up their ass it stuck out of their mouth. 

And she chuckled at Boss, saying something only she could hear. 

“Gods--I mean their practically fucking right in front of us,” Sevika muttered so only you and the quickly approaching Silco could hear.

“What do you think?” You asked in way of greeting Silco, who pulled so close you could smell the fresh shower he had just taken. It was a smell you thoroughly enjoyed, one you wanted to grab and rub your face all over, but one you knew had a bitter backing. 

The same year you had met Silco, Piltover had reopened the mines they had promised would stay closed forever. Opened them in the promise of progress and ample jobs for all. In helping ease the “struggle of the good people” down here.

You wanted to say it was fine at first. That it gave jobs to those who might not have had one otherwise. That Piltover might be right for once, but you would only be fooling yourself. 

Working in those mines was like dancing with death herself and Piltover knew it just as well as everyone else.

You had the usual risks, cave mouths collapsing and people getting lost within the labyrinth that the mines made up, but then there was the Gray. Smoke that still leaked its way out into The Lanes from past generations, more so now thanks to the mines having reopened as such. 

And the Gray--well, the Gray was death’s lover. 

Smoke so thick you couldn’t see through it. A smog that clogged your throat and made it feel like every breath you took filled your lungs with a thousand tiny needles.

Janna, the very Winds of the Undercity, had been trying ever since its birth to rid its poisonous wrath from us. She told you the story of her first coming to the Undercity a few times over the years. She had been called here on the prayers of the people who were suffering from its oppressive choking hold. She had managed to keep it at bay. To give the people a moment's relief to breathe freely.

But ever since then, she has been struggling to try and purify the smog. 

It was a story she typically told you when she had you practice trying to purify the waters lapping at The Lanes’ jagged edges. 

And every time she had you practice, every time she told you her tale, you asked how you were supposed to do the same if she, who was a goddess, couldn’t even do it herself?

She would settle you with her glowing, unblinking gaze before instructing you to try again. 

All play no work that one…if only. 

You hated that Silco and Vander went down there, especially since there was nothing to be done for the Gray. It was something you told him many times that same year he had started work. So many times he had snapped at you to stop because it wouldn’t change a thing. 

What very little money the boys earned went right into The Last Drop to keep it standing as Piltover rose taxes and Vander’s father passed, leaving every leak and creaky floorboard to him.

So you agreed to stop bothering him with your worries…though it did nothing to keep you from doing so voicelessly. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Silco glanced their way, the two seeming to have grown even closer in the two seconds you had taken your eyes off them. “Seems a perfectly typical interaction between officer and civilian.” His eyes found yours own more, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You couldn’t help but look over every feature you could get away with looking at. Took in his nicely sharp features, his thinly soft-looking lips, and the shaggy hair he was allowed to grow out. Hair he planned on growing out so long he could braid it and gods did you agree. 

No longer was he the scraggly and bony teen you had first met. No, he had grown rather handsome. 

Painfully so. 

A beauty you struggled to think past most days.

And just as you knew how handsome he had grown, so had the rest of the Undercity. Women and men alike were drawn in by his looks and his smooth talk. 

His all-seeing and ever-calculating eyes only grew sharper. Eyes he used to see just how to make a girl grow ever the more flustered and fidgety under it. Eyes he used to track and log just what they liked to hear from him. 

He had become quite the playboy, capturing the hearts of many but never holding onto them for long. 

You think it has grown into a game to him. A game to see how many he can draw in and claim. See how many he can break in the same breath. 

You think sometimes he tries to play the game with you…and oh do you wish to play, but you knew he never truly meant the looks and the playful words he sent your way. 

You two were…friends. 

Strictly. 

Even when it disappointed you greatly. 

“Nah, they’re screwing.” Sevika huffed, reeling you back in from Silco’s charming looks. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, backing slightly away only for your hips to hit the counter. His eyes quickly tracked your movements. Movements he did the opposite of and stepped closer one more. 

“You get off work at seven.” He matter of factly told you. 

“What? Do you keep my schedule pinned to your wall or something?” Silco all but rolled his eyes at you. 

“I have something to show you.” Curiosity sparked at your heart and you instantly leaned closer despite knowing you should keep far away for your own heart's sake. 

“Ooo…what is it?” 

“And ruin the surprise?” You nodded quickly. Surprises were great but you found yourself impatience. Silco teasingly smirked your way. “Never.” And just like that he pulled away, leaving you feeling as if you had been tossed around by a riptide. “I’ll be back at seven.” He called to you as he headed back for the door. 

You swallowed sharply.

“Yeah. Okay.” You called back. 

You watched him give Nadia a small wave goodbye, the woman more than edger to do the same, before he was back out the door like he never was there in the first place. 

Sevika huffed at you, gaining your attention once more. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’.” You watched her sharply as she plated the beautifully cut fish on an equally as beautiful plate. She fixed you with an all-too-teasing gaze. “You two are just as bad. No…no. Worse. You’re worse.” Your brows furrowed in confusion as she passed you the plate to take over to the Boss and Sergent Grayson. 

“What do you mean?” Sevika all but ignored you, looking back over the diner.

“Dee, it’s worse right?” Sevika called to Nadia who was carrying a stack of dirty plates back to the kitchen. 

“Much worse.” She agreed as she passed. Before you could snap at the two for an answer, Boss called your name sounding not pleased. 

“This is not over.” You huffed Sevika’s way who only smirked back at you. 

“Sure, guppy. Sure.” 

You spent the rest of your shift cursing yourself for not having packed a better change of clothes. You had planned on being able to head home to change into something a little more nice before you went to The Last Drop, but Silco’s surprise threw a big wrench in your plans.

Not that you were complaining. Not truly.

You would pick hanging out with Silco over a nicer pair of clothes any day.

You found Silco waiting outside for you just as he had said, messing around with one of his daggers. He perked up instantly when you emerged, dagger put away as you came to his side.

“So…you want to tell me now?” You asked, only for Silco to lean downward so that he was looking directly into your eyes. You felt your heart give another damning flutter in your chest. 

“Tsk, tsk.” He smirked, “Impatient thing aren’t we?”

“This just something you're figuring out?” Silco gave a small, amused huff of air from his nose. Those seafoam eyes danced over your face, not helping the restless movement in your chest.

“Come,” He gestured with his head for you to follow. “It’s not too far away.”

“As soon as I drop Nadia off I’m getting drunk, ya hear you two!” Sevika called as you began following after Silco. 

“Won’t take long,” Silco called back to her. 

“Better not.” She shouted, “I’m itching to beat you at cribbage tonight.” 

“Want to bet on that outcome?” Silco glanced back to the woman, eyes bright in the promise of competition. 

Your two friends were unchallengeable at any card game they played. Their smarts and trickery were not something to go up against lighty.

When the two played against each other, the game always was a close one. One point could determine the winner.

And between the two…you would bet on Silco to win. He was the only person in all of the Undercity you had known to ever beat Sevika and beat her he did every time. 

Sevika, of course, never admitted it.

“Nah, 'cause I know I’m winning. No need to jinx it all to hell on a damn bet.” She called back as she started off with Nadia. 

“If she wishes to win that bad all she needs to do is play against you.” You sharply shoved Silco away who only gave a chuckle. 

“You’re an asshole.” You huffed, pulling the strap of your patched-up bag further up your shoulder. “I can play cards.” 

“You can play Go Fish.” 

“Hell yeah I can play Go Fish! I’m the best damn Go Fish player in all of The Undercity. No--The Undercity and Piltover.” You threw your arms out dramatically as you turned on your heel to face Silco as you walked backward. “In the entirety of Runterra.” Silco quirked an amused brow at you.

“Oh really? The whole world?” You gave a humming nod. “Well then, Go Fish World Champion, we’ll play tonight.” 

“And I’ll beat you.” You knew you wouldn’t. Even in the only card game you had mastered, Silco was still the best at it. 

“Want to bet on it?” You turned on your heel once more to face away from him. 

“Nope. Sevkia’s right. Betting beforehand is only going to jinx it.” You once more adjusted the strap of your bag.

“Jinxes are just a fiction.” You shrugged. 

“Maybe…but what if they're not? Huh? What are you gonna do then?” You asked, craning your head to look back at Silco who was watching you closely, an easy smile on his thin lips that you couldn’t help but mimic. 

“Then I guess I’ll face it head-on.” He quickened his pace a bit to come back to your side. “Let me carry your bag for you.” He offered his hand out for the item. 

“You trying to steal from me?” You asked in mock concern. 

“Oh yes. I want your dirty work clothes and sea shells.” You shrugged. 

“You're right. The sea shells would be worth stealing.” You pulled the tote from your shoulder and handed it to Silco, who slung it over his. “Got a pocket watch in there too.” 

“Oh? And where did that come from?” He asked, pulling at the edge of the bag to look for said watch.

“Those enforcers were so generous. Just gave it to me out of the goodness of their heart.” Silco let the bag fall back against his side. 

“How kind of them.” He huffed. “Why your boss feeds them is beyond me.” You gave a sharp nod. 

“Agreed. That’s why we think there is something else going on. Boss kills enforcers on the spot typically.” Silco shook his head, eyes turning away from you as a deep anger filled them. 

“Shiny things are nice,” Silco started, seemingly changing the topic.

“Very nice.” You agreed once more. 

“But it’s not worth putting you at risk.” Concern. He was concerned for you and was telling you that. 

You couldn’t help that damn fluttering again.

“I thought we agreed a long time ago not to do this.” Silco’s hardened eyes glanced back down at you, seafoam softening at their edge the longer he watched you. 

“Do what?” 

“Oh please be careful. Oh, I’m so scared for you. Oh, those big bad enforcers are going to catch you. Oh please be safe.” Silco gave you a dramatic eye roll at your mockery.

“Please. I’m hardly saying any of that.” You gave him just as dramatic an eye roll back. 

“Really? Then what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying--” Silco’s gaze flickered quickly over your face before looking away once more. “That if you steal from them enough your boss will find out.” 

“Still kinda feel like you're worried about me.” You felt Silco’s hand on your arm only for it to shove you away. A wicked cackle pulled from your throat. 

“Look whose being the asshole now.” Silco gruffed. 

Silco led you down another street, through an alleyway, climbed down a steep stairway that seemed to go on forever, and right back down another street before coming to a small, hardly used bridge. 

You knew you were right on the border of the Promenade Level, where your boss’ diner-shop was located, and the Enthresol Level which was where The Last Drop beat at the heart of the city. 

You had taken this route a few times in the past. Only ever with Silco, so you were familiar with it, but why you two were taking this roundabout way to the bar was what nagged at your curiosity when you could have just walked back with Sevkia. 

“What are you--” Silco pressed a thin finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet before heading for the metal ladder built into the side of the bridge. 

You followed close behind, the bite of cold metal digging into your palms. Silco hopped onto the grated platform, rusted bits of metal having created holes here and there within its flooring, before turning to offer you his hand. 

You took it, even though you knew you didn’t need his help, but you knew you needed to be able to feel his skin against yours. Chill skin that was covered in tiny scars and callouses that always made you feel like it was just the two of you in that moment.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he led you over the platform and you couldn’t help the growing warmth that his hand was creating in you. A warmth that rushed up your arm and all over your body. Warmth that made that damning flutter grow near pounding. 

You made it all the way to the other side of the platform and that's when you heard it.

It was soft at first. A sound you almost didn’t believe you were truly hearing until you were standing before the source, staring at the bundle of twigs, string, fur, and hair nestled between a rounded design in the arch of the bridge. 

“Oh…Silco…” You breathed, watching the small, featherless baby birds chirping and chirping for their mother, little bulging bellies no doubt starving. 

“Fantastic aren’t they?” You nodded, holding his hand a little tighter. 

“How--they shouldn’t be able to live down here.” Your voice was quiet to keep from startling the babies, but also in disbelief. 

Quiet in a growing dread that they probably wouldn’t make it for very long. 

“Yes…yes, it’s quite strange.” Silco spoke just as softly as you. “I saw their mother and followed her down here. Found these sweet ones.” You felt his hand hold yours just as tightly back. “But this means it can really happen.” You turned away from the miracle before you to look up at him. 

Silco’s seafoam eyes were already watching you.

And you knew that look in his eyes. A look he only got when talking about one thing. 

“Zaun.” He nodded, that hopeful gleam in his eyes burning with passion. It was a dream you all let burn deep within your bellies. A dream you all spoke of often. Spoke of enough you all had given such an outlandish wish a name. 

You turned to look back at the babies, who still had yet to stop begging for food. 

“But what if…those plants don’t even live near the bridge.” You thought of the rooftop you two had first encountered each other on. A roof where someone had been trying to grow tomatoes, though those tomatoes had withered and died before they could even yield a ripe crop.

“We’ll come visit them. Maybe we can help keep them going.” You nodded, even though your negative side nagged at you that it wouldn’t matter. That these sweet babies would wither and die before they had even sported their first feathers. 

As if reading your mind, Silco grabbed your other hand, turning you to face him. To bare his determination for Zuan down onto you. 

“It will happen.” He spoke like he was trying to convince himself it would. You nodded again.

“I believe it. We’ll make it happen.” But that look didn’t fade from his eyes. A look that mixed with something else that told you something was upsetting him. Something outside of the typical truths of your lives you lived down here in the filth. “What--did something happen?” You asked hesitantly. 

“I--” He hesitated himself. It had taken Silco a long time to fully be able to open up to you. Friends you may be, he kept his true feelings, deep dark ones, hidden behind a high wall. And though he more freely spoke with you on such topics now, you knew it was still a struggle. That, even though the wall had created a door for you to peek inside, the door wasn’t always unlocked.

“A mine shaft caved in this morning.” It was all he had to say for you to understand what had happened. For you to know why he had followed the bird down here. Why he had come to visit you at work. Why he had voiced his worry for you. 

Because he’d seen death today. 

More death that only Piltover could be blamed for and Zaun was Silco’s--no, everyone’s last bit of hope for things to get better.

You silently pulled him closer. Silently pulled your hands from his only so you could wrap them around his waist and hold him tight. And Silco silently let you hug him, when typically such affection was slapped away. 

Silco snaked his hands around your own waist, pulling you flush against his thin, yet strong body. You felt his breath against your neck as he buried his face there, warming your skin nicely.

You two stood like that for a long moment. Long enough that the babies stopped chirping, thinking you two had turned statue. 

“I have an idea.” You murmured, giving him one last, tight squeeze before pulling away. Typically you would curse yourself for ending such a moment. A moment you so rarely got but you wanted to try and lift his spirits, if just for a moment. 

Silco watched you carefully as you reached into your bag, which you didn’t bother pulling from his shoulder. You rummaged around for a little bit, making all the random trinkets you carried in it clink together until you pulled out one of the larger shells and your canteen, which you had learned to always carry with you for easy access to water. 

“What are you doing?” He asked to which you tossed him a playful smirk.

“And ruin the surprise? Never.” He huffed in amusement at your repeat of his words from earlier that night. 

He watched you carefully as you found a level spot on the bridge to place the shell, before unscrewing the canteen. With little effort, you reached for the water with your magic, pulling a fist-sized droplet of water out. 

Silco eyes shimmered in fascination, pulling so close his shoulder was pressed against yours. You once more savored the touch, turning yourself so you could peek unstrained glances up at his seafoam eyes here and there as you worked. 

“For their mama. And for these three when they grow up.” You said. Silco glanced down at you as you let the droplet of water fill the shell. “And because it’s magic water.” You gave your fingers a little wiggle at the word magic that further tugged a smile to Silco’s lips. “It’ll never run dry… hopefully.”

“You’ve been practicing,” Silco observed.

“Yep. I’ll be able to create tsunamis next, just you watch.” Silco’s easy smile came back in full then. A smile that brightened his eyes and stirred those damned flutters right back up in your chest. 

“I will.” Silence fell between the two of you, now filled with the returned chirping of the babies. A silence that thickened and made your eyes flicker downward to his lips, which you wanted to feel so so badly against your own. “Thank you…for all that.” You swallowed the growing dryness in your mouth down sharply. 

“Yep--” You gave your throat a little clearing as you turned away from Silco, knowing the longer you looked at his handsome features the more you were going to be drawn in. “Yep. No problem.” You recapped the canteen and all but shoved it into Silco’s arms. 

“Alright, I need a drink.” You announced, making your way towards the ladder and begging your heart to stop beating so loudly. “I’m kinda feelin’ like I might want to bet you about that win now.” Silco laughed, his footsteps sounding as he followed after you.

“I thought you said betting beforehand would only jinx it.” You shrugged, throwing him a mischievous little look. 

“I think I’ll just face it head-on, like you said. I’m feeling lucky.”

Previous | Next

[zhivaoverdrive]

Saline Thief, 4 Today’s fill - enough to transform any other woman from a bystander into a spectacle, but on her, it barely registered.

--- The IV bag ticked like a clock counting down to some inevitable doom. Amy watched the digital display count upwards relentlessly: 120cc... 380cc... 750cc. With each update of the display, the saline in her chest felt heavier, crushing her under its weight.

4,500cc? Lies. This wasn’t just another "bump," this was feeding a monster she barely understood anymore.

Her left breast throbbed with a dull ache, stretching against the confines of her skin.  30,750cc... 31,200cc....  She kept track in her head, the real number she kept hidden from all.

They knew. Amy was certain of it. They weren't fooled by her facade, not for a second. She knew about the midnight raids, the stolen saline, the ever-expanding desire threatening to consume Amy whole. But they played along, this twisted game of cat and mouse, letting Amy walk right into a trap.

Nurse Laura had called it a "teeny overfill," but Amy knew better. She was already monstrously large, pushing the limits of what felt human. This injection would push her further, into territory she couldn’t imagine. As the saline flowed, a familiar combination of fear and exhilaration coursed through Amy.

Oh god, what have I done? she thought, mentally slapping herself.  I'm like a walking water balloon… a teeny overfill?

Would this ruin any chance of finding someone who loved her for who she was? The thought flitted through her mind, quickly extinguished.

Her tits were just so huge since her last late night escapade. In the rush of that intrusion, she hadn't bothered to count anymore. But they were huge. Gigantic. God, I'm a freak. Am I the biggest in the world?

The numbers ticked by, each one another nail in the coffin. 32,500cc... 33,000cc... Amy closed her eyes as she counted the hidden total, trying to block out sensation of her swelling breast. It felt alien, a shocking caricature of femininity. Yet, she couldn’t deny the thrill coursing through her.

Nurse Laura’s bubbly demeanor grated on Amy's nerves. She saw through it all – the feigned concern, the over-the-top enthusiasm.  It was a performance designed to goad Amy, to push her further down this dark path. And Amy, caught in the web she'd woven herself, couldn't help but play along.

The IV beeped, jolting Amy back to reality. Laura appeared in the doorway, that ominous smile plastered on her face.

Well, well," Laura chirped, her gaze lingering on Amy's chest. "Looks like our teeny overfill barely made a ripple! You're practically symmetrical still. I wonder what it’s going to take to really do the job… perhaps in this case we can push just a little further?

Amy glanced down at her chest. It felt heavier, tighter, the saline stretching her skin. But visually, the difference was barely there. A wave of disappointment washed over her. Today’s fill - enough to transform any other woman from a bystander into a spectacle, but on her, it barely registered.

Her right breast, a hefty 30,000cc when she walked in, should have looked noticeably smaller next to its counterpart now holding a staggering 34,500cc. But despite the numbers screaming a vast disparity, visually... it didn’t. The sheer volume she already possessed swallowed the increase whole.

"You know," Laura continued, leaning in conspiratorially, "some girls might be scared by how much we're putting in. But you? Well.."

34,500cc, 10 pounds of saline forced into her breast, rendered irrelevant by the sheer scale she already possessed... How could she be so big and still crave more? The thought terrified her… and yet, a tiny voice whispered at the back of her mind: Just a little bit more won't hurt.

[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒈𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓◞ ₊˚

. ˚◞ ꒰ verse 209 jingyi ꒱ snake monster x reader, yandere x reader, mad doctor x reader ⊹ ۪ ࣪

reader asks jingyi if they can borrow his black card

“can i have your card?”

amber eyes peer at you from over a row of spectacles. an arch of a brow greeting you before a low hum does. the pause in his paperwork brings a smile to your lips. your boyfriend always prioritised you over his endless work.

“and what for, sweetheart?”

the octave of his voice has you shifting on your feet a bit before both of your hands place along the arm of his ebony office chair. “just for a little shopping. saw a few things that caught my eye. . .”

your trail is met with only a low chuckle. white paper finding the mahogany desk as jìngyí leans into his backrest. arms folded against his deep scarlet shirt.

“that so? and why, pray tell, can you not use your own. my darling?” the question has you pouting. even if you were well aware of the game that he is playing. it was always cat and mouse with him.

well, snake and mouse.

“well why use mine when I can use yours?” the whining lilt in your voice eases another chuckle from his throat. your puppy eyes earning only a raise of both dark brows now.

“mhhm?”

the corner of his lips curl. much like his hand does into his pocket. undoing his wallet and slipping his black card between two long fingers. a faux sigh leaves his lips. followed by a shake of his head - long dark strands bouncing along.

“you know I can never say no to that face.”

once you pluck the card out of his grasp with a quick smooch to his face, jìngyí’s hand befalls your hip. fingers flexing into a small squeeze as his lips find your ear.

“get something for me too, won’t you?” a small smack to your thigh. “now off you go.”

[cressidagrey]

I breathe flames each time I talk - Chapter 6

Summary:

The story of how Oriana Fireborn Belmont finally meets her mate's family.

Also the story of how Rhysand, The High Lord of the Night Court, finally recognises that by the cauldron, there is no fury like a female scorned.

Azriel would just like everybody to get along.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

It’s the High Lord. 

Azriel felt the wards shudder and then snap closed, his mouth ceasing to make sounds in the middle of his conversation with Cassian. 

“Oh no,” he breathed when he felt the ice-cold fury pour over their mating bond.

That was all he needed before he forced himself to get out of bed and snap at the shadows that tried to hold him down. For once they listened to him, probably because they knew that he was too fucking furious to be held down. 

“You are supposed to stay in bed!” Cassian protested. Azriel ignored that as he hobbled to the door. 

“My mate is going head to head with the fucking High Lord of the Night Court, I am not staying in the fucking bed!” He snapped. There was to hope that they wouldn’t outright kill each other but somehow he didn’t think that Oriana, in all her righteous fury, would be in a very forgiving mood. 

Cassian finally acquiesced, fitting himself under a shoulder and dragging him outside onto the porch where Nesta stood, staring at the spectacle before them. 

Rhys was trussed up like a turkey, suspended midair, merrily swinging in the wind, wings unable to move much in the golden bubble Oriana had him in. 

And Oriana…Oriana stood in front of him, hands on her hips and glaring at Rhys. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Rhysand! I told you to stay away,” Cassian snapped. “How? Is that your magic?” He asked Oriana, who just shrugged.

“It’s an enchantment. I reworked my warding net. That you broke,” she answered, her voice even. 

“When the fuck did you even do this?” Azriel demanded. 

“Last night when you were sleeping, Sweetling. I was bored,” Oriana answered. “And you are supposed to be in bed. I got this well in hand.” Of course. Sometimes she slid out of the bed in the middle of the night because she had an idea for something and needed to write it down before she could forget it. These days she kept a notebookonn on her bedside table, though the sound of a pen scratching over parchment had oftentimes woken him up, only to reach out and pull her against his chest. “It’s like a mouse trap. Just for High Lords. Who stick their nose into things that are absolutely none of their business,” she said brightly. 

Oh for cauldron’s sake. 

“I realise that I may have misstepped,” Rhys dared to say, still dangling head down in the air.

Oriana’s head snapped towards him. Azriel held back a grimace while Nesta started to outright grin. 

“ Misstepped ?” Oriana repeated voice light. The magical bindings jerked Rhys up. “Is that what we call that now?” 

In his defence, Rhys didn’t even tried to get out of it of his magical prison. He probably realised that trying anyway wouldn’t be a good idea. Who knew what else Oriana had worked into her enchantment when she had been working in it?

“I am surprised you haven’t set me on fire yet,” Rhys said drily. “Like last time.” Last time?”

“Oh, all in good time,” Oriana said brightly. “I enjoy your fear too much to cut this short.” 

Azriel probably… definitely shouldn’t find this attractive. But he did.

He really, really did. It was the pure magical power that poured from her, the intelligence that it must have taken to make a ward like that, her mind at work, protecting herself, protecting him. 

“There won’t be a repeat of last time, if you worry about that…” last time? What did she mean by last time? 

And then his attention was pulled towards Feyre twholanded a few feet before the golden dome that surrounded the Lakehouse and jogged the rest of the way, until she came to a stop in front of the ward.

“If you wouldn’t maim him for life, you would do me a favour!” Feyre called out. 

Oriana inclined her head. “High Lady.” There actually was respect in her voice that hadn’t been there before for Rhys. 

“Oh, just Feyre is fine!” Feyre assured her. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Oriana. But I think you already know that,” Oriana said. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“She’s very pretty. I can see why you wanted to marry her sister,” Feyre told Rhys drily. Cassian next to him choked on nothing.

“You wanted to marry her sister ?” Cassian asked, sounding incredulously. “What exactly did you do to his favourite jacket, Oriana?” he asked her, a grin stretching over his features. 

“I put it on fire,” Oriana answered easily. “And then I started with the rest of him. He had it coming though. He tried to flirt with Enya and when she turned him down, he tried it with me, but I was already engaged.”

Oh. Well. 

“You were engaged?” Cassian asked, surprised. 

Oriana shrugged. “Yes. I got engaged to get Enya out of marrying and being miserable for the rest of her life, an  then this one shows up and wants a bride. Which would already be bad enough but to decide that if one wouldn’t suffice, the next was an option? Yeah, I made my displeasure known. My sister is much happier in the infirmary than she ever would be as anybody’s wife,” she ranted. A fireball appeared with a dainty little flick of her wrist, flying across their yard near the bubble that still held Rhys. He was eyeing it with no small amount of trepidation. 

Azriel had no clue what to think about all of this. 

“Don’t worry, your jacket is safe from my wrath,” Oriana quipped. 

“Could you maybe not kill him?  I kinda want my son to know his father,” Feyre asked with a grimace 

“Thanks, Feyre darling,” Rhys said drily. She just shrugged 

“Sorry, you had this coming, Rhys,” Feyre said, crossing her arms. 

“Don’t worry, he won’t die,” Oriana promised. “I have only killed one person in my life and that wasn’t even on purpose.”

“Who did she kill?” Cassian asked him in a hiss. 

“Her husband,” Azriel said with a shrug. At Cassian’s stare, he added,  “He had it coming. It was self-defense.” 

Quite frankly, Wynstan had it coming. It could have been much worse. Oriana’s magic had onlyburneds him to death. For what he had done to her and taken from her, that kind of death could probably still be considered to be merciful as far as Azriel was concerned. 

“You can walk through the ward. It’s intent-basedd,” Oriana told Feyre at that moment. Feyre watched it carefully for a moment but then stepped through the ward that did nothing but glow brighter in response for a moment. 

“So what exactly was Rhysands intent if he triggered it?” Cassian asked the question that Azriel was also having.  

“No small amount of self-loathing, I imagine,” Oriana said drily just as Feyre reached them, pulling Azriel into a hug. 

“You look better than I thought you would,” she told him, a smile on her face. “She won’t burn him, will she?” she muttered under her breath and Azriel just shrugged. His guess was as good as any. 

“ We are going to talk about consequences,” Oriana said at that moment, flicking her wrist a second time, another fireball joining the first, hovering in the air. A third time. It spoke of so much control over her magic that Azriel was slightly awed. “And about what exactly constitutes appropriate behaviour towards my mate.“

The last thing he had expected was the words that left  Rhys’ mouth next: “I am sorry.“

Azriel’s eyes widened. This wasn’t…This was the last thing he had expected. Especially because Rhys sounded like he really was sorry. 

“I wasn’t aware that you even knew that word existed. For what are you sorry?“ Oriana prodded sharply, arms still crossed, clearly not willing to let a single thing go. 

Azriel couldn’t remember ever having anybody in his life who came down this harshly on anybody who did anything to disrespect thim. Even Rhys and Cassian thought that he could deal with it himself. Oriana…Oriana was seemingly glowing with righteous fury, thinly concealed magic sparking at his fingertips. 

“I was…out of line,” Rhys struggled to bring out the words. 

“Were you?” she questioned lightly. Her tone of voice was in a very sharp contrast to seemingly everything else she was doing. From Rhys dangling in the middle of their garden to the fireballs that surrounded him glowingly. 

“I was,” Rhys agreed. “I thought that…I tried to do what was best for the Night Court,” Rhys said quietly.  

“Correction. You tried to do what you thought was best for the Night Court,” Oriana cut him off. “Without even talking to anybody else or asking for advice.  But then you aren’particularlyar smart, so maybe I shouldn’t have expected any differently.”

Ouch. 

“Excuse me,“ Rhys complained, but she ignored that. Nesta bit back a laugh, while Feyre watched that whole thing with ill-concealed fascination. Cassian had crossed his arms, while Azriel himself was leaning harshly against the porch railing, as he watched his mate rail against Rhys. 

Oriana wasn’t even close to done, was she? 

He could feel it pour all over their bond, her fury, her anger, burning brightly as she concentrated it on who she clearly felt deserved all of it. 

Azriel wondered how she had put all the pieces together, but then maybe he shouldn’t. She knew him better than anybody else. And she was smarter than anybody he knew. She had probably overheard his conversation with Cassian and that had felt in all the blanks that she had been missing. 

“You know, I kept a list,” Oriana said suddenly. “A list of political decisions you made that I thought were unwise. But quite frankly, it didn’t really matter to me. If Velaris turned out to be unsustainable, I was just going to go back into the mountain,“ she told him. “But some decisions you made were about Azriel. And these…they pertain to me. They matter to me.”

“If I didn’t do what I did you would have probably never even met him,” Rhys pointed out, his voice hoarsely. The fireballs burned brighter in response, flames appearing at Oriana’s fingertips as she uncrossed her arms and held her hands to her side, clearly used to not burn the clothing she was wearing.  

“Is that supposed to make me be on your side?” she hissed.  “You think that makes it any better?  I love Azriel! I would rather not have him feel any pain at all than even spend a moment in my presence!” He flinched at her words because he had very different thoughts about that. He would rather walk through fire and burn alive than be even a moment without Oriana. 

“When I met him, he was a fucking shell of a being! He expected me to turn him away at every corner, to tell him to leave me alone! You hurt him. So much so that for close to two years, he lived in a house without any furniture! Where he slept on the floor. And I quote *I grew up in a cell, at least this has windows!* ” He couldn’t help but flinch at her words. 

“Oh Az…” Cassian whispered and he held tighter to the railing. Oriana wasn’t finished though. 

“You hurt him! With your words, and with your actions! I could argue against why you did what you did. I could pull apart your reasoning like plucking feathers from a chicken! But that doesn’t matter because you actually believed that you did the right thing!” 

It was so quiet after her outburst, that the only thing that could be heard was Oriana’s harsh breathing. 

“I…I just wanted to protect him,” Rhys finally whispered, his eyes closed, anguish clear on his face. 

“Who, Lucien?” Oriana snapped. 

“Azriel,” Rhys disagreed. “My brother.” His eyes opened and violet eyes searched out Azriel’s even over the distance between them. 

“I am sorry,” Rhyapologiseded. “I am so sorry.  I thought that it was infatuation. I didn’t think that you really loved her. I…I wanted to protect you. I know how strong the mating bond can be. I know that. And I…I thought that the chances that she was going to choose him were slim. Not because of you. But because of that bond. I wanted to protect you and I wanted to protect this Court. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

The words stood between them, quiet but heartfelt. 

And maybe if Rhys had actually told him that…if he actually told him that he was worried about him that he loved him but that Elain was mated and that even when she made any appearance that she wasn’t interested in Lucien, that could change when she actually settled into being a High Fae and didn’t just grief after the humanity that she had lost…

He could have understood that. He could have been reasoned with that. 

“Why didn’t you tell him that?” Oriana questioned quietly. “You could have just told him that.”

“I could have. But I didn’t. And that wasn’t even the worst thing I said,” Rhys admitted. “I said something even worse than that. I said to go to the pleasure hall if he wanted sex.”

Azriel flinched at the words that had haunted him. 

Reasonably he could understand how Rhys must have meant it. But they felt like something truly different to him, meant something very different to him. 

“I am sorry for that,” Rhys said quietly. “I…thought that you didn’t love her. But it wasn’t on me to make that determination. And I shouldn’t have ever even thought about telling you that.” He swallowed. “I am sorry, Azriel. You are my brother. And I am so sorry for how treated yoItt’s will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

He knew that Rhys meant every word and he was really not looking forward to hashing this out for much longer. 

“You’re gonna let him down?” he asked Oriana, who turned towards him. He pushed forgiveness at contentedness and he saw the moment she softened. 

“Do you want me to?” she asked and he just nodded. She turned to Rhys. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” She asked him pointedly.

“Don’t cross you,” he answered. Fire burst out of her hands at that. 

“Wrong answer,” she hissed at him. 

“Don’t stick my nose into things that are none of my business?” he tried again. 

“Closer.” 

“Don’t treat my brother like that again.” 

“You ever even think about doing anything like that to Azriel again, this is going to look like children’s play. Do you understand?” She asked, every word burning with intensity. Rhys swallowed. Azriel watched with some amusement that he actually was scared if the look in violet eyes was anything to go by. 

“Crystal.”

“Good.”

“We should keep her. The psychological warfare would be unparalleled,” Cassian whispered to him. Azriel just snorted. 

It took nothing more than another flick of her wrist, and the fireballs rushed into the ward, the golden bubble that kept Rhys let him go and he unceremoniously plummeted to the ground until his wings could wildly flap and save him from landing face first into the mud. 

He finally let go of the porch railing, managing to hobble down the two steps down onto the wide expanse of grass. Rhys crossed the distance to him and yanked him into a tight hug. 

Something inside him eased at that, as his hands fisted into his brother’s jacket, his face pressing against his shoulder. 

“I am sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Never.”

“You are two idiots, but I love you,” Cassian said drily, suddenly next to him and Azriel snorted as Cassian pounced on both of them in a hug. “Are you finally gonna come to family dinners again now?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

They were his brothers. 

Even when she had never seen all three together before that moment, she could easily see that. 

She pushed any remaining anger she felt away because quite frankly, her own anger didn’t really matter. Azriel was the one who had deserved an apology. Azriel was the one who needed to hear that from his brother.

She crossed the yard and, back to the porch, finding Nesta and Feyre both watching the three of them just like she had done. 

“I think you could have at least put him on fire a little bit ,” Nesta told her drily and Oriana snorted in amusement, while Feyre rolled her eyes. 

“Ah, you know…there is always a next time,” Oriana said, shaking her hands, sending the last few sparks of fire flying into the evening air.

“Are you finally gonna come to family dinners again now?” she heard Cassian ask and watched him as half-carried, half-dragged Azriel up the steps to the house. 

“I will,” he agreed. 

“And you are going to share some of your toys?” Cassian prodded. 

“He will,” Oriana agreed for him. “I’ll even make you your own when that is possible.”

“You know what, I like her,” Cassian said with a grin as he poured Azriel into the old rocking chair they kept on the porch.

“You can’t really say any differently, because you are still waiting for Azriel to rip out your throat,” she shot back. 

“Shh, don’t remind him,” Cassian shushed her wide-eye, making her snort. Azriel wasn't going to rip out his throat. They both knew. Give him a few bruises...once he felt better though, definitely. 

“You were supposed to stay in bed, Sweetling,” she told Azriel drily as she took in the way his skin was ashen, sweat beading at his hairline. This really wasn't good for him. 

“How about I sit right here, does that count?” he offered and she snorted. It was probably the best she could hope for. 

"You do that, and you take your pain position without argument," she told him pointedly. He just inclined his head. 

“You know Mor is going to be so sad that she didn’t see it,” Cassian commented at that moment to Rhys, who just glowered at him in response. “Or Amren.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll show them the whole thing,” Feyre said with a shrug, looking at her fingernails.

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys sighed.

“Nah, I agree, show them, Feyre,” Cassian said with a grin. “It’s not every day that you get to see Rhys dangling head down and apologising. So about family dinners…” he started once again.

“Well, we are already all here. If you want to get Amren and…Mor?  You could,” she suggested, looking at Azriel who looked anxious but hopeful. Hopeful that she was going to meet his family, and that she would get along with them. “Though you’ll all be subjected to my cooking.”

“The meatballs were definitely smelling mostly edible,”  Nesta said with a grin and she shrugged. 

“Just for that you can help me make bread,” she suggested, Nesta laughed but inclined her head. 

“I’ll go fetch them,” Feyre suggested brightly “Do you have an anti-winnowing ward on here?” she asked, but Oriana shook her head, opening it up with a turn of her bracelet. 

“Not anymore,” she said easily as she walked in. “One of you, get Azriel inside and put him somewhere to sit down!” she called over her shoulder. “And whoever else can help prepare a rabbit to roast, can help me in the kitchen!” 

Cassian ended up being the one following along in the kitchen, while Rhys got Azriel to sit at the dining table, fussing over him much to Azriel’s and her own chagrin.

“Did I break the winnowing ward?” Cassian asked her, sounding apologetic.

“No, she just lifted it,” Azriel answered. “I could feel that,” he told her drily and she shrugged. 

“I tied it to a bracelet,” she explained. “Makes it easier to change.”

“You can do that?” Rhysand asked and she just raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I can do nearly anything I put my mind to,” she told him pointedly. He inclined his head at that, and she pulled out the rabbit from the stasis cabinet she put it on, as Azriel had hunted it a week or so ago. 

Nesta and Rhys ended up helping with the bread, while Cassian cleaned and spitted the rabbit that ended up in the oven. 

Even Azriel got in on it, cleaning the potatoes she gave him, though she used an enchanted knife to peel them…making it much quicker than it would be to do it by hand. 

Feyre came back, a winged boy on her hip, Amren in two and a beautiful blonde female with her that Oriana had seen before. 

“Amren,” Oriana said with a smile, greeting one of her grandmother’s oldest friends. 

“Oriana,” Amren responded, inclining her head. “And our very own Shadowsinger. Your grandmother did mention that you always made the most interesting choices.” Oriana couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What can I say, normal is boring,” Oriana responded, much to the amusement of Nesta who snorted. 

“It’s so nice to meet you properly. I am Mor,” the blonde female burst out with, pulling her into a hug. “So, out of pure interest, what did Azriel do when he saw what you bought on you?” she teased her but Oriana just laughed. 

“He hasn’t yet,” she answered. “I am keeping it for a special occasion.” It made Mor grin and wink at her. Azriel watched the exchange with wide eyes. 

“Nothing that you need to worry about, sweetling,” she teased him and he just rolled his eyes at her. 

“And whose that?” Oriana asked turning to the little boy still in his mother’s arms that looked at her with bright blue eyes, the ball she had made him clutched in his hands. 

“That’s Nyx,” Feyre said with a grin. “Can you say hello to Oriana, Nyxie?” 

He gave her a toothy grin and then held out his arms for her, demandingly. 

“I think you got competition, Az,” Cassian muttered, making Azriel roll his eyes once again. Oriana just shook her head but offered her hands to the little boy who happily wrapped his fingers around hers. 

He looked like a perfect mix between his parents, with black, fluttering tiny wings that were absolutely adorable. 

She couldn’t help but wish that this was something that Azriel and she could have one day, that it was an option they had. They didn’t. But maybe that was okay. As long as she had AZriel, she was going to be happy. 

Anything else…that would just be the icing on an already perfect cake. 

“So who wants something to eat?” she asked brightly. 

[thatfreshi]

OKAY OKAY LET ME COOK TAV HAS AN ABUSIVE EX LOVER AND ASTARION AND TAV RUN INTO THEM

We're all just trying to cook out here, let us cook!

TW - run-in with abusive ex, bf and ex get into a fight

Recommended Song: I Didn't Change My Number - Billie Eilish

Evening walks, humidity in the air from the day's rain, hands intertwined. You can't ask for much more. While you and Astarion enjoy a good party-filled night, it's nice to simply observe the bustle of dusk, lovers just now finding each other in alleyways, ridiculous drunken fights. It's fun, making little comments about the surrounding chaos, Astarion mostly just making fun of people's outfits.

"I mean really, I have never seen such a gaudy scarf in my life, and I've lived for almost three hundred years!"

"Yes, I remember."

"I'm just saying, truly a bad scarf."

You cling to him, as you usually do. The streets of Baldur's Gate make you nervous, so many uncertainties, especially one man. You never told Astarion about your past lover, not wanting to burden him with all of that. After all, you have no idea if he still lives in the city, but it still makes your skin crawl, knowing he's out there.

"Are you alright my sweet?"

He noticed you had slowed your steps, zoning out.

"Of course."

You smile, hiding the thoughts quite well. Eventually, the two of you make it to a quieter part of town, and you both lean against a stone building, taking in the sights of the stars. As people silently pass by, a figure makes their way towards you from the street.

"Well, if it isn't Tav? How are you old friend?"

Goosebumps, chills all across your skin. Your ex, a half-drow, eyes a burning purple. You stay silent, and Astarion simply watches the situation play out.

"Who's this?"

His gaze moves to Astarion. You wrap yourself around your lover's arm, squeezing him tight.

"Tav, would you like to go?"

Practically ignoring the drow, he turns to you, trying to deal with your fingers digging into his skin. You nod.

"Now hold on, I just wanted to say hi! Tav and I, we have a past together, and it just so happens I haven't seen them in a long time."

A grin grows across his face, disgustingly intrigued by your current circumstances.

"Yeah... hi."

You don't make eye contact, simply agreeing. Not liking the way things are progressing, Astarion goes to grab for the dagger under his coat, keeping his hand on the handle.

"Oh, so your new lover thinks he's so scary, huh? I'm sure you've told him all about me, right?"

"Aster, let's just go, please."

Your voice is practically a whisper at this point.

"Hold on darling, it's okay. I've got you."

He steps between you and the drow.

"Unless you want to be splayed all over the cobblestones, I'd suggest you move along now."

The drow steps to him.

"Splayed? Are you sure about that pretty boy?"

You didn't remember just how tall he was, making Astarion look tiny.

"Astarion!"

You plead, scared that he's bit off more than he can chew.

"Aw, scared for the pretty elf are you? Seems things haven't changed, you're still just a fearful mouse, prey."

He's said too much now, and the vampire pulls his dagger, meeting the drow's knife. While he's distracted trying to hold off Astarion's blade, the second dagger comes out, piercing right through the drow's stomach. He got him good, knowing right where to stab that would make him bleed profusely, but not kill him, not if he was quick. Your ex cries out in pain, he wasn't expecting the second blade. Astarion pulls him in by the collar.

"I never want to see you in this city again, understand?"

Still wheezing in shock, the drow nods, clutching at his stomach. Astarion smiles, content with his work.

"Good. Now, I would get someone to patch that up soon, lest you bleed out in the dark somewhere."

With that, he scurries off into the darkness, and you realize a few people were staring at the spectacle.

"Apologies, nothing to see here!"

Astarion waves off the strangers, and turns back to you.

"Are you alright my dear?"

You're still in shock, not expecting to see him here, now. You nod, wrapping yourself around his arm again.

"It's okay my love, it's over."

You mumble, lying against his arm.

"I know, I just-"

"Shhh, hush now. Let's go home, alright?"

You nod, weeping from the fear that still hasn't dissipated. He wipes away your tears, and you try to smile at him.

"Thank you."

"Of course my sweet, anything for you, always."

[killerpancakeburger]

The wizard is dead

Pairing: Rolan x f!Reader/Tav ("She" is used to refer to the Reader twice)

Summary: You didn’t expect to end the party celebrating Ketheric's final death at the Last Light Inn making out with a certain wizard. And least of all you certainly weren't expecting to meet him again in Baldur's Gate...

Tags: Enemies to lovers speedrun, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, protective! Tav, insecure! Tav, Astarion ships it and never stfu.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, canon violence and death, spoilers for Acts 2 and 3 obvsly.

A/N: Making Rolan blush as much as possible. If you too felt murderous upon seeing his bruises, this is the fic for you!

“...up. Get up. Urgh. Get the fuck up.”

An exasperated, familiar voice pierced progressively the depths of your sleep. Didn’t mean you wanted to wake up, though. You felt deliciously drowsy and ready to plunge right back into the pit of slumber.

You grumbled in protest in response to the voice and submerged your head with your pillow.

The voice emitted a grunt of aggravation following your shenanigans. 

“I can’t believe Karlack put up with this every morning…”

Something suddenly started to shove you repeatedly at waist level, and you identified the something as a foot.

You rolled over to escape, in vain.

“Go away, Astarion”, you whined, muffled by your pillow.

“Oh! She talks!” commented the vampire sarcastically. “Maybe now she will deign to join us for breakfast!”

“Why are you even here?”, you lamented. “Where’s Karlach? I want Karlach.”

It was your morning ritual since your hellish friend recovered her ability to touch without burning. She’d wake you up with a bones-crushing hug, some physical affection welcomed by both of you. In comparison to her, Astarion was cold and sharp, bodily and verbally. 

“I wanted to be the first to congratulate you, darling.”

He wasn’t making any effort to conceal the enjoyment in his voice, and a bad feeling arose within you, wondering what could amuse him so early in the morning. Suffice to say, Astarion was not a morning person. 

Thankfully, he kept talking without needing to ask him to.

“So congratulations for shagging the wizard last night! It was the most entertaining spectacle of the party, no doubt.”

“Gale…?” You asked, filled with confusion. You enjoyed his company but neither of you ever showed interest of the romantic… or sexual… sort in the other.

“Ugh”, sighed exaggeratedly Astarion, like it was the dumbest thing he’s ever heard in two hundred years, “no, not Gale.” The name sounded like an insult. You could hear the spawn roll his eyes.

“The stuck-up tiefling! The wannabe apprentice! What was his name again…?”

All torpor is abruptly ejected from your body with the power of a cannonball. You sit up brutally, wound up like a bowstring. 

“Rolan!?” The name erupted from your mouth way louder than you intended. Luckily, Astarion didn’t pay attention as he slammed his fist against his palm in satisfaction. 

“Yes! That haughty little… Anyway! You two gave the Inn one hell of a show, making out in front of everybody. I have to thank you for that, really, it was getting sooo boring.”

He was looking at you with the content smile of a cat who caught the mouse. You stared back with incredulity, dumbfounded. 

“You’re lying.”

“Why, darling, I would never”, he retorted smugly, putting a hand on his chest with pretended affliction, like he was wounded by your accusation. 

You wanted to stand your ground and believe that he was lying, but something in his smugness, more assured than when he was deceiving people, told you that he wasn’t.

“The whole Inn saw you, so you could ask anyone for confirmation, really. They all cheered by the way. Obviously his siblings were the loudest of the bunch…”

You covered your ears in denial. Never again you would drink that much.

“You even managed to make him dance. Well, dragged him there, really. Details. He had two left feet, so that was… endearing.”

He pronounced “endearing” the same way he called you naive that one time, and you knew that he held himself back from using a more… colorful adjective.

“Shut up”, you pleaded with Astarion. “I don’t want to hear anything more.”

He chuckled with derision. 

“Me shutting up won’t change reality, dear.”

“What are you guys doing?”

Karlach’s booming voice startled you. Astarion, on the contrary, greeted her appearance with a mischievous smile, seeing another occasion to poke fun at you.

“We were just remembering yesterday night and the boldness of our heartbreaker of a leader. It was fun, wasn’t it Karlach?”

“Oh yeah!” immediately agreed the tiefling, completely missing the horror on your face and your silent plea to not add to Astarion’s pestering. “You guys were really going at it. Didn’t see it coming but what matters is that you’re happy.”

A radiant and sincere smile was adorning her lips. You covered your blushing face in embarrassment, grunting in shame and frustration with yourself.

“Karlach, if I ever drink this much again, just knock me out.”

“I mean, if you’re sure… but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Everyone is very supportive of you both.” she added, unsure of why you looked so down. 

“You don’t understand”, you whined.

As she was about to ask for explanations, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted your conversation. All three of you turned your gaze to Wyll, who had a tense smile - or grimace, you weren’t sure - on his face, and seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Ahrem. Lae’zel wanted me to let you know that if you don’t show up in the next three seconds, she would add you to the menu.”

Suddenly all thoughts of yesterday evening were forgotten as you three scrambled towards the campfire.

⚡⚡⚡

As your little band resumed their journey towards Baldur’s Gate, you resolved to use that time to put order in your memories from last evening and in your relationship with Rolan. 

Your memories were gradually resurfacing, hand in hand with a pounding headache. 

Despite Astarion and Karlach’s statements, you still couldn’t believe that you kissed Rolan. Not that the idea repulsed you - far from it, actually. The man was pretty, and he was even prettier when he wasn’t busy yelling at you. However, the idea that he let you put your lips anywhere on him was laughable. 

You proceeded to rewind all your memories with the self-assured wizard, trying to find the key to decipher what was an enigma to you. 

Truth be told, you didn’t remember much from your first meeting in the Grove. Except for his shooting match with Lia, which was impossible to miss once inside the shelter, you remembered him vaguely as a pompous character whose every statement dripped with snobbishness and bravado, so much that it felt like he was trying to convince himself rather than his audience. Despite the airs he was giving himself, you caught him later during the tiefling party putting on a magic show simply to please his siblings, and the heartwarming display disconcerted you as much as it amused you. 

The moment when you met him again in the Last Light Inn, on the other hand, was burned into your memory. He had once again caught your attention by his yelling. However, as you approached out of concern for the kids tending to the bar, the yelling quickly turned on you. You were ready to let it go - after all, if you weren’t in such a hurry to get rid of the parasite inside your head, you too would have drowned your sorrows in alcohol and lashed out at well-meaning strangers - until he accused you of being responsible for his siblings’ kidnapping by the cultists. 

All your restraint snapped at those words, like a rubber band too stretched. 

How did he dare? After everything you’ve done, after all the shit you’ve been through - and were still going through. You weren’t even expecting any thanks, you just wanted to be left alone. As if you malevolently sneaked inside Cal and Lia’s mind to trick them into doing your bidding. As if they weren’t both adults capable of making their own decisions.

A little voice in the back of your head whispered that he was blaming you because he was blaming himself, that rejecting the fault on someone else was the only way he found to contain the pain and guilt that were threatening to engulf him, but you ignored it. Understanding his reasons didn’t make you a doormat.

Karlach had to bodily restrain you as you were about to punch him in the face.

“Then stop whining and do something about it yourself, since I only make things worse.” you spat with as much venom you muster, leaving the Inn to find a training dummy to take out your vexation on. His shouts still reached you though.

“Oh, I will! I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity!”

You had almost forgotten the incident until you stumbled upon Rolan on your way to Moonrise, in the middle of the shadows. He was largely outnumbered and doomed to a certain death if your group didn’t happen to pass this way completely randomly. 

Once the shadows were taken care of, you pinched the bridge of your nose in bewilderment. Did he have a deathwish or something?

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing.”

His shoulders were shaking in frustration and anger. However, something in the tone of his voice made you feel quite different from the last time you met him. You weren’t irritated, no. You felt… sorrow. For him. Thankfully, he wasn’t aware of your emotions, keeping his eyes on the ground, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze.

He was more furious at himself than at you this time. There was also a dose of embarrassment in the mix, after failing to rescue his siblings on his own. This display of vulnerability was the antipodes of his usual self-assured behavior, to such an extent that you wondered if the shadows were making you hear things. 

“Please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise”, escaped your mouth before you could stop it, realizing that he very probably wouldn’t be any happier to see you now than last time.

He snapped back immediately - of course he did.

“So what if I was? Cal and Lia could be there!”

You were about to retort that getting himself killed on the way there would help no one, Cal and Lia least of all, before the last thing you told him suddenly came back to you. A cold shiver ran down your back, as you wondered with horror if he was here because of your words. You never expected him to take your remark seriously. In the heat of the moment, you had wanted to hurt him, but you had never intended to send him to die alone in those cursed lands. Unease pooled in your stomach and a sharp pang of guilt twisted your heart. You gritted your teeth in frustration. Rolan kept ranting, oblivious to your inner turmoil, which was probably for the best.

“Instead I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.”

That last remark was meant as a jab at you, however it failed at riling you up. How could it have, when his voice trembled like he was about to shed tears? He was finally looking at you, and the heartfelt dejection painted on his features made you want to hold him in your arms more than anything else. You quickly pushed that urge aside, though - there was no doubt in your mind that your attempt at comfort would be unwelcome, to say the least. You probably wouldn’t like it either if the roles were reversed. You two weren’t close enough for this.

Nonetheless, you tried to bring him solace through your words, keeping your tone as neutral as possible:

“You were trying to help your family - you’re too hard on yourself.”

But your efforts seemed to have the opposite effect, as he retorted in an uncharastically acerbic tone:

“Or not hard enough.”

Both his words and his timber made a shiver of dread run through you. There was something terribly final in them, that made you reconsider your thoughts about him having a death wish.

But you were nothing to him, except an hindrance, and as he bid you farewell and walked away, you simply watched him, feeling bitterly powerless, wishing that he at least made it back safely to the Last Light Inn.

Following the defeat of Ketheric Thorm and the eradication of the shadow curse, Jaheira and the Harpers had organized a celebration at the Last Light Inn the night before your departure for Baldur’s Gate. The respite was welcome for your whole party. You really needed a break before taking up the arms against two more gods. Alcohol flew freely. Former prisoners were reuniting with their loved ones. Fighters numbed their wounds and the deceased’s sacrifice was honored. 

As part of the acclaimed saviors, you were making your mandatory runs around the inn before you could slip away to a quiet and peaceful corner. It was during that errand that, once again, you walked in on Rolan and his siblings screaming at each other. You sighed, passing a hand over your tired face, somehow knowing that it would be up to you, once again, to play mediator. 

You downed your drink and approached, waiting for your opportunity to interfere into the conversation. Noticing an opening, you slipped innocently, nose in your tankard:

“Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.”

The swiftness at which the situation defused itself would have almost made you chuckle if it hadn’t been that serious. Hearing Rolan state that his struggle didn’t matter made you frown but you bit your tongue. Truly that man had serious insecurity issues under all that boasting. But just like in the shadows, it was none of your business.

Having played your role, you mumbled a “don’t mention it” to Cal who was thanking you, and took your leave. Or at least you had started to, until Rolan’s voice interrupted you.

“Wait.”

You turned around out of curiosity, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, not sure if you were the one being addressed. Rolan was staring at you right into your eyes, erasing your previous doubt. Gods, had his yellow gaze always been that hard to hold? 

As soon as he saw he had your attention, he started talking. And what he had to say took you completely aback.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.”

You held back from clarifying that you saved him from the shadows because he happened to be in the way. And that you saved Cal and Lia because… they were in the way too. You were gonna release the Moontower’s prisoners anyway, that Rolan’s siblings had been part of them was just a coincidence. However this little speech seemed to cost Rolan, which was understandable, so you kept your mouth shut.

“You didn’t deserve that - I’m sorry. And thank you.”

You opened your eyes wide - receiving an apology wasn’t on your todo list today. Least of all from someone as proud as Rolan. Even more mind-bending, he gave you a genuine smile. You were so focused on his face that it didn’t occur to you to refuse the money he offered.

Later in the night, as you were still processing his unhoped for change of demeanor, and were a fair bit tipsy, you ended up passing him a new bottle of Arabellan Dry - who gave it to you? Who told you it was Rolan’s favorite’s wine? And that you should give it to him? You had no idea. Not noticing the wine at first, he teased you:

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

Between his taunting words, his open smile, his beautiful eyes sparkling with mirth, and the realization that he was laughing with you, something inside you snapped. Suddenly you had butterflies in your stomach, weakness in your knees, and he looked like the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. You laughed heartily, before smiling frankly, noting that he looked - pleasantly? - surprised at your reaction, not expecting an audience that easy to entertain. 

You remembered talking back to him, settling yourself in a spot nearby, sharing that bottle… But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember that pretended kiss. Did you actually manage to make him blush during the night or was it just the wine?

After reflecting over everything, you still felt as much - if not more - mortified. There was no way Rolan felt happy about making a spectacle of himself in front of so many people - and in front of his siblings, least of all. Those two must have had a field day deriding their eldest. As for the kiss, it must have been a result of the alcohol and the proximity. You didn’t get a lot of opportunities for… physical affection since the beginning of your tadpole adventure, and you could easily imagine that Rolan must not have been getting a lot of action either, between fleeing the Grove, dealing with the cultists, losing his siblings and enduring the shadow curse. 

You could only imagine that after such a disaster, Rolan must be back to hating you. 

You sighed deeply, to the point of attracting the questioning looks of some of your companions walking by your side, before shaking your head in resolve. It was just one, regrettable evening. As long as you didn’t run into Rolan again, you could put it behind you. And what were the chances of coming across him in Baldur’s Gate anyway? 

⚡⚡⚡

High, apparently. Or at least high enough to make you eat your words.

Your merry band had just crossed the doors of some fancy magic shop that took up residence in a lavish tower. You were originally there to confront the man who had put a price on Aylin’s head. Whatever his intentions were with her, they couldn’t be good. Adding wizards’ characteristic hubris and what Ketheric Thorn previously inflicted to the Aasimar together, you quickly came to the conclusion that he sought to cage her and thereby attain immortality. Your purpose was therefore simple: explain in no uncertain terms to Ramazith’s tower’s new owner that he could - should -  kiss goodbye his delusions of eternal life, and, if he proved to be too stubborn to be reasoned with, deal with him in such a way that he wouldn’t be an issue anymore for your winged friend. 

However all Selune’s daughter-related considerations went out the window when you laid eyes upon the shopkeeper at the counter. Somehow the tiefling who had haunted your thoughts for weeks and made you recoil in embarrassment at night, when you were left alone with yourself, forced to cope with the memories of your last meeting, was standing right in front of you. Worse, he noticed you, and the natural blush of his infernal skin miserably failed to hide the vivid flush of his cheeks. Like his reflection in a mirror, you could distinctly feel your own face blaze fiercely. 

It lasted a minute or an eternity, you had no idea, until you were brutally ejected from your trance at the view of the bruises covering his face. Rolan had been so severely pummeled that purple had become the prevailing color on his visage. Ice-cold, overpowering fury spread across your veins and possessed you to swiftly close the gap between the two of you. 

Consumed by anger, you raised a hand to graze his tumefied skin. 

“Who did this to you? I’ll fucking kill them.”

You felt a slight pang of remorse upon seeing him struggle to not back away from you after you charged at him like a ram. His tail had started to sway wildly at your approach. 

However Rolan rapidly proceeded to regain his composure, as he always did. Coughing in his fist - maybe a desperate attempt to hide his still glowingly red cheeks, or simply a way to offer himself a moment to get a grip -, he answered you, way too nonchalantly for your taste. 

“Nothing- ahrem… nothing for you to worry about.”

His reply stinged. Bitterly. After all that you’ve been through together, he still didn’t trust you. Or he was still resolutely convinced that he had to endure every tribulation alone - you sincerely doubted that Lia and Cal wouldn’t have thrown a fit upon his appearance. 

You didn’t know which of those two possibilities hurt more. 

The righteous wrath inside you disappeared, like extinguished by a bucket of icy water, replaced by a chilling insight - it was utterly useless to fight for him when he wouldn’t stand up for himself. And, more importantly, if he didn’t consider you close enough to him to ask your help, then it was time for you to move on. 

“You suck at lying, you know that?” You felt obligated to point out.

As he was about to object, you continued.

“But you’re right. If you still don’t need my sanctimonious help, I’ll just go about my day. Sorry for the trouble.”

Immediately after spatting those words, you found your outburst childish, but you couldn’t take it back. You began to storm off, determined to fully focus on the wannabe-immortal wizard problem, but a clawed hand grabbing your forearm ended your departure.

“Wait-” 

You whirled around, losing more and more patience. 

“What.”

Rolan sighed, but not in a way that sounded like this was a chore to him. He sighed like one does to give themselves courage before overcoming adversity. The words had left his lips before he could even think them; before he could contemplate their effect on you. Being self-reliant and showing no weaknesses had become an automatic reflex forged by a life of survival. He couldn’t shrug it off overnight - but you were the first person who made him want to try.  

He then compelled himself to look you straight in the eye.

“Don’t lea- I mean, I didn’t mean to…Urgh… Gods damn it… it’s Lorroakan.”

You stared back at him, split between the newfound joy of him confiding in you, and the confusion of hearing his confession.

“Lorrowho?” You asked, slightly tilting your head in puzzlement.

 The name didn’t ring a bell for you, but according to your companions’ exasperated grunts in your back, it certainly did for them.

“The tower’s newest owner”, helpfully prompted Gale behind you. “So-called greatest wizard of the Sword Coast, aspiring to subjugate Dame Aylin, took our friend here as his apprentice?”

“Oooh! That guy!”, you exclaimed. “Well that’s perfect! We were going to kick his ass anyway!”

You could have announced to Rolan that you were planning to fight a dragon with your bare hands, he probably would have gazed at you the same way.

“By the way, Rolan, you can let go now”, you added with a pointed look towards his hand still squeezing your arm.

He let go like he got burned, cheeks reddening again, swore in hellish and apologized. You assured him it was fine. 

“Can you share anything that would help us take down Lorra… Larro… whatever-his-name-his?”

The tiefling straightened up, clearly in his element. 

“Mast- Lorroakan has four Myrmidons.”

He seemed about to carry on on the subject, but stopped in front of your confounded expression.

“Myrmiwhat?”

The apprentice wizard opened his mouth to start an informed lecture about the properties of Myrmidons, before closing it and pinching the bridge of his nose, frustrated by your ignorance.

“Nevermind, I can make this simple for you.”

Feeling insulted, you proceeded to join your hands and excessively flutter your eyelashes to mimic a swooning admirer. 

“Why, thank you Master Rolan! You are ever so generous to us simpletons!”

The aforenamed choked a bit at that, but you were not sure if it was in reaction to your ridiculous antics or to being called “master”.

“As I was saying, Myrmidons are very powerful elementals. You shouldn’t underestimate them.”

You acquiesced with a nod of your head before turning to your Party.

“Let’s get going then.”

“Should we not fetch the Asimaar?” inquired Astarion, observing his nails with detachment. “Not that I particularly care, but with how strongly this concerns her, she may come after us if we keep her out of this.”

You replied without missing a beat, having already pondered the question. 

“No, I want to spare her that.”

The Vampire Spawn let out one of those unhinged little laughs he had a knack for, blending contempt and incredulity. 

“I must have misheard you - spare her? The cutthroat demigod who mercilessly crushes her enemies under her boot? That’s who you want to spare?”

You had expected that kind of reaction, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“That’s not what I meant” you grunted, aggravated by the elf’s taunting. “Of course she can take care of herself. But just because she can, doesn’t mean she has to. Dealing with relentless creeps who get off on the idea of breaking you, body and spirit, it’s exhausting, speaking from experience. I couldn’t imagine doing it for centuries. We can provide her a brief respite. If she takes it the wrong way, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

Astarion shrugged, satisfied with your answer since it sheltered him from consequences. The others agreed with nods of the head.

Rolan gave you the directions to reach Lorroakan before adding, frowning:

“Be careful. He has a beastly temper.”

The recommendation made you snicker. Before the tiefling could take offense, you brought your face closer to his, lifting his chin with your index, a wolfish smile stretching your lips. 

“I highly doubt that sorry excuse for a wizard is in any way a beast. But fear not, pretty boy, I’ll show you what beastly really means.”

Whistles and sniggers could be heard from behind you, demonstrating the maturity of your traveling companions. Meanwhile Rolan’s face somehow managed to turn even redder than when you both met again moments ago, and his attempts to come up with a rebuttal resulted only in stuttering. 

Benevolently, you did not comment, careful to not overstep his boundaries too much, and changed the subject, rising an inquisitive eyebrow:

“Are you not coming with us?”

He cleared his throat to give himself a semblance of composure.

“I guess I should, if only to make sure you lot do not ravage the tower on your rampage.”

You smirked a little at his efforts to appear indifferent, but refrained from making any remark, content with his participation.

As you made your way towards your target, Astarion sneaked by your side, a mocking smile adorning his lips. You mentally braced yourself for the jibe that wouldn’t fail to come.

“I figured out why you didn’t want to bring Aylin on our little excursion, darling.”

“Oh really.” you replied with the most blasé tone you could muster.

Unfortunately, your lack of concern didn’t seem to deter your vampiric ally at all.

“You want to keep your prey for yourself. To be the one to slaughter the Master Wizard. You should have seen your face earlier when you threw a fit over Rolan’s bruises, I thought you were going to bite.”

“So what? Is that a problem?”

“Quite the opposite, really. I’m planning to revel in the show. Let’s hope for you that the little wizard is of the same mind, uh?” 

You told him to mind his own business and he just laughed. 

Your group crossed the magic portal, entering Lorroakan’s lavish office only to stumble upon the deplorable spectacle that was the supposed great wizard sadistically torturing his servant for his questionable experimentations. Thankfully, your noteworthy arrival put an end to the loathsome display as the red-haired wizard dismissed his domestic and his mechanical construction.

“I see no Nightsong. Surely you wouldn’t have entered my tower without the Nightsong in hand. Surely my worthless apprentice wouldn’t have allowed you to waste my time.”

That last remark made your blood boil as surely as it did earlier when you laid eyes upon Rolan’s contused face. You gritted your teeth, plastering on a fake smile, before giving the man a taste of his own scorn by ignoring him completely and ostensibly turning towards Rolan.

“Is that the pathetic excuse that serves as your mentor?”

The apprentice wizard spared a glance at Lorroakan who was suffocating with indignation before focusing on you.

“... Yes, he is.”

“Great! Would have been so awkward to kill the wrong guy!”

Bestowing your most bloodthirsty smile on your foe, you made a point to talk over his outraged diatribe.

“There’s only two things you should know, really. First : you will never get your hands on the Nightsong. Second : I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy it.” 

Having said your piece, you unsheathed your weapon as the wizard invoked his Myrmidons, and the battle began.

⚡⚡⚡

Standing over Lorroakan’s battered body, you made sure that he was in too much pain to ramble again. Rolan came to stand beside you, the shock on his face telling you that he had a hard time believing what he was seeing.

You looked at him inquisitively.

“Wanna do the honors?”, you suggested, referring to the final blow. 

As he remained motionless and speechless, you started to worry you had said the wrong thing, but suddenly his expression turned resolute and he nodded. 

You distanced yourself from the two wizards, not fancying getting caught in a spell’s blast. Rolan uttered his incantation with force - detono.

With a mixture of astonishment and awe, you watched Lorroakan’s body get hurled across the room and through the nearest window in a cacophony of shattering glass. You leaned through the destroyed window to glimpse at the mangled corpse before turning to Rolan with a low whistle.

“So much for not ravaging the tower, uh-”

You found yourself unable to finish your clever quip as your favorite tiefling grabbed you by the collar and crushed his lips against yours. The motion was brutal and clumsy, to the point that you briefly wondered if he was trying to kiss you or punch you in the lips… with his lips.

Barely leaving you enough time to reciprocate the gesture, Rolan withdrew, a wild look in eyes, panting slightly. Did he forget to breathe during…?

“You-”

“This is all your fault!”

You gaped at him in uncomfortable silence, immobile, truly at a loss for words. What in the nine hells did you do this time, again?

One hand released your clothing as Rolan covered half his face with it in consternation. 

“And to think I promised myself I wouldn’t lash out at you again… Do you see how I lose my composure in your presence? Every. Bloody. Time. It’s infuriating.” He sighed.

You crossed your arms, staring at his piercing yellow eyes.

“Riiight.” 

He had at least the tact to appear marginally embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Not a day has passed since Last Light Inn where you weren’t on my mind.” he admitted, albeit begrudgingly, rubbing his neck in bashfulness, and unable to meet your eyes.

Your eyes widened at the confession. This was a surprise, although a pleasant one.

“You… you don’t hate me for it?”

It was his turn to stare in astonishment.

“For what…?”

“You made a spectacle of yourself in front of the whole Inn because of me…”

“Please, I’m not tone-deaf enough to not acknowledge my own responsibility in this. We both had… a lot… to drink.”

“Oh… Well, in that case… I’ve been thinking about you too. Since the Inn.”

It was only fair to come clean too after he made the first move, which must have definitely cost him and his pride.

“Oh.”

There you were, two blushing idiots staring at their own feet in embarrassment, not knowing what to do with yourselves. That is, until you remembered what started all of this, and you raised your head so suddenly Rolan got startled.

“We need to heal your face.”

He chuckled openly at that, but instead of taking offense, seeing him happy spread warmth in your chest.

“You should heal yourself first, ô mighty hero. You’re in way worse shape than I am.”

You frowned and grabbed his face to inspect his bruises closer.

“Being injured is second-nature for me. I don’t think you can say the same. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He took hold of your hips in response. A derisive smile stretched his lips.

“What a poorly concealed way to get me to undress.”

“How dare you”, you protested, scandalized. “imply that my benevolence is anything but proper?”

“Maybe I wish it wasn’t.”

Before you could ask for clarification, he kissed you.

“Rolan…”

“Mmh…”

Again.

“I was serious about healing you…”

“Mh.”

And again.

You grabbed his robes and shoved him against the closest bookshelf in a drastic attempt to put some space between your bodies. The action didn’t seem to deter him at all, if anything it added fuel to the fire, as you could feel his claws even through your clothes. To make matters worse, you quickly realized that getting away was impossible with how tight his tail was coiled around your thigh. 

All your worries disappeared however as a very familiar voice could be heard from somewhere on the floor underneath. Rolan definitely heard it too as he looked in its direction with a mixture of dread and annoyance. 

You couldn’t discern entirely what Lia was saying, but the words “Rolan” and “Lorroakan” were definitely part of it.

You looked at Rolan with an unequivocal expression.

“We should go to them… and reassure them that you’re not dead or something.”

The new master of the tower threw his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, fine!”

“Also, we’re going to fall to our deaths in the stairs if you don’t keep your tail to yourself, Mister…”

Rolan dashed off in the direction of the stairs, grumbling about siblings and lack of privacy, not without grabbing your hand in passing. 

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 28

Donna Noble missed the Auton invasion of 2005 because she was sleeping off a massive hangover she got after realizing she had unrequited affection for a coworker. She similarly missed the Sycorax invasion due to a hangover.

The Doctor screamed as they were pulled from the Loom.

Trakenites have a natural empathy towards creatures in distress.

The Thirteenth Doctor had Preventacles on the TARDIS, which were psychic spectacles that allowed people to see the most likely events about to occur in their future. Dan once accidentally put them on because he thought they were sunglasses.

Baris is the Doctor’s "Number One Fan." He had Mega Plastic Surgery to make himself look just like the Tenth Doctor, even changing his voice to match and getting a second heart implanted in him.

The ones knocking on the outside of the spaceship in the episode Listen were once suggested to be River Song and Jack Harkness.

It is possible for a Time Lord to be time blind.

During the game the Eighth Man Bound, an "Initiate" would sit in the middle of a circle and take some drugs, and those in the circle around them would give them an identity crisis by repeating their name until it lost meaning. This would cause them to enter a state of flux between their regenerations and see their future bodies. The game was incredibly dangerous and could result in regeneration or loss of identity. About fifteen Academy students died from it every semester. The Doctor holds the record for this game.

Sarah Jane Smith once confessed to Cindy Wu that she had fallen in love with a "lovely, brave silly man" once but that her chance had passed by the time she'd worked out her feelings.

The Time Lord retina is capable of thinking on its own.

Callum was originally a mouse that the Master turned into a boy in an attempt to get a new body.

The Doctor claims that they delivered Genghis Khan.

The Doctor and likely other Time Lords do not have prostates.

Bernice Summerfield originally thought that Star Trek: The Next Generation was a documentary program rather than a fictional show.

Rassilon's Universal Solvent is a blue, glowing liquid. The Fifth Doctor said that it dissolved universes.

Time Lords often keep their Looms in cradles. They would whisper to each other at night.

Inside the TARDIS, there is a place a remembrance where the Doctor keeps all sorts of mementos from his past companions. In this place, the Fifth Doctor has a copy of The French Revolution that Barbara had given to Susan, Sara Kingdom's Space Security Service ID, Adric's Badge for Mathematical Excellence, and more.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[creamhoodie]

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ Internet Cafe Love ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

synopsis: The white haired boy who regularly visits the same internet cafe as you becomes your boyfriend but can your relationship survive when his best friend seems distrustful of you?

warnings: 7,915 words (long one shot with multiple settings),Nagi X female reader, gamer Nagi, per fluff no smut since it is written while he attends high school still.

You had often noticed the white haired boy at the internet cafe as he seemed to go nearly every night the way you did. 

While you also brought projects and subjects to study on the side when you were taking a break, you noticed he never took breaks, the clicking of the keyboard and mouse were constant companions. This had led to you bringing your own noise canceling headphones that were much more soundproof than the gamer ones that came with the PC set at the cafe.

That was your current situation, headphones in practicing a new writing style of kanji when you felt a light tapping on your headphones. You glanced up and towering over you was the white haired boy. He wore an oversized gray sweatshirt and black sweatpants. You moved your headphones around your neck. 

“Did you need something?” You asked, meeting his gray eyes. 

“Do you have any money?” He asked straightforwardly. 

“Money? What for?” You asked, looking him up and down again. He didn’t seem in need based on his lounge outfit and you now noticed the light up rainbow keyboard he had under his arm. It had gone unnoticed before since his tall domineering figure was the main spectacle. 

“Lemon tea. I wanna buy one from the vending machine but I’m low on money because I spent it all on this and the gacha games on my phone,” he said motioning to the keyboard.

You raised a brow at not only his abruptness but also his poor money management. You had some cash on you but weren’t too keen on giving it up since you planned on getting food at your favorite food stand after you left the cafe.

“Well I don’t have any money,” you said.

“Bummer,” he replied, not sounding convinced as he plopped down in the spot next to you and began removing the default keyboard and setting his own up to the PC. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, chewing on it a little to hide your annoyance. Now he was gonna be right next to you making all this noise. 

“Do you really have to sit here?” You asked. 

He looked over at you as the PC booted up, his gray eyes seeming slightly hurt.

“Is that a problem?” He asked. The way he asked made you feel guilty. Yes he was a bit eccentric and odd but so far he was harmless.

“No it’s fine,” you said. By now your kanji was forgotten and you watched as he opened a first person shooter game and signed into his account.

“God of soccer?” You teased regarding his gamertag. 

“Oh yeah I’m on the soccer team at Hakuho High School,” he said. 

This guy went to the elite prep school? He didn’t seem like the type. You yourself were in the neighboring public school.

“I wasn’t aware Hakuho had a team,” you stated as he loaded into a game. 

“My friend Reo and I started the club up so we’d have a team to go to nationals.”  His focus was now on his game however as he had chosen a sniper character. You watched as he hit every headshot. He was eerily good at the game and you didn’t miss how match chat came up with the enemy team accusing him of using aimbot. When his team won the game he exited the queue and remained on the menu and looked over at you as he had been aware you were watching the whole time.

“You’re really good, how long have you played that game?” You asked.

“Just a few months now,” he said, shrugging. 

“And you aim that good already?” You asked in disbelief. You weren’t half bad yourself and had always considered your aim to be impressive but his was godly.

“I grew up playing first person shooter games,” he said as if it was no big deal. He glanced at your notepad before adding, “what’s with the studying?” 

You blushed. 

“I alternate between studying and gaming,” you answered his question. 

“No, I mean I see you studying here all the time even when it’s not exam season,” he said. So he had noticed you before as well? That was to be expected as you were both regulars. 

“I just like to study consistently,” you replied. He made a face and you added, “you don’t? You go to Hakuho, surely that’s more rigorous than my public school.” 

“Well sure but I just study a few days before the exams. Hey, are you sure you don’t have any money? I could really use that lemon tea.” 

His delivery made you wanna laugh. He was easy going and charming all without meaning to be and yet he was still odd, you hadn’t ever met anyone like him before. 

“I'm still thinking about it. Do you have a name or is it just god of soccer?” You asked. 

He chuckled.

“My name is Seishiro Nagi. What’s yours?” 

“Y/N Y/LN,” you replied, telling him your first and last name as well.

“Nice,” he replied, “you wanna play some games?” 

The two of you were duos on the same team with him playing the sniper character again and you his support offering him both damage boosts and heals. Between both of your combined skills and efforts the two of you went on an eight game win streak. 

An hour of gaming had gone by even though it didn’t feel like it and the two of you decided to call it quits.

“So Y/N,” he started.

“No about the lemon tea,” you joked. He shook his head.

“Forget about that. I have a home game tomorrow at my school in the evening. The match starts at two. You should come,” he said. You noticed the slight pinking of his ears when he said it. 

“I’ll try to go,” you said. You did enjoy playing with him even though originally you had felt slightly annoyed by his presence. 

“You should, our school’s marching band is gonna be there too for the first time,” he said. He finished unplugging his keyboard and putting the original one back and stood up. He scrolled through his phone quickly before adding, “will you be back online tonight? Maybe we could play some more too.” 

You felt your heart somersault at how he sounded hopeful.

“I may but I’m not sure I don’t usually play late.” 

“Bummer. Hey Y/N?” 

You prepared to be asked about the damn lemon tea again. 

“What?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked shyly.

“No I don’t.” 

“Good keep it that way. I’ll see you online tonight,” he said quickly before waving bye and taking off. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were back home in your room that night freshly showered and sitting on your bed getting ready to settle in for the night and watch TV. 

You heard a notification from your PC and received the notification on your phone as well through the gaming app. 

It was Nagi using the whisper feature where you could message online friends direct messages.

GodOfSoccer: get on 

You smiled at his eagerness. 

SleepyKoala: Kinda don’t want to I’m tired

GodOfSoccer: don’t care I wanna play with you 

SleepyKoala: Nagi we played so much today 

GodOfSoccer: true well are you coming to my game tomorrow? 

SleepyKoala: Yes

GodOfSoccer: WOHOO LETS GOOO 

GodOfSoccer: forgot to say earlier cute gamertag 

SleepyKoala: Thanks :) 

GodOfSoccer: give me your number 

You did and not even a minute went by before you got a message from him. It was a plushie of a koala on his desk next to his PC monitor. You also caught a view of the rainbow keyboard from earlier. You created a contact ID for him and added a koala emoji to the end of his name. 

You: Cute plushie 

Nagi: he says thank you. I’m gonna game a bit I’ll see you tomorrow 

You: see you 

You then settled at last to watch more of the Netflix show you were currently binging until you lulled to sleep. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The next morning you woke up at noon having slept in later than you would have liked. After doing your morning routine and eating, you made your way to the supermarket to buy a lemon tea for Nagi. 

You hadn’t been able to ignore the butterflies that you had gotten thinking about him. You had checked his online status and had noticed he had stayed up until one in the morning gaming. 

Supermarket mission successful, you began to make your way to Nagi’s high school. You had timed your schedule perfectly so the metro would arrive at 1:30 giving you enough time to head to the stadium before the game started. Your outfit of choice was casual with a tote bag to hold the lemon tea and your noise canceling headphones though you doubted you’d need them. 

Arriving at the school on time you couldn’t help but notice how much more expensive everything seemed. You knew it was an elite academy but as you followed the crowd into the stadium you noticed just how much the school invested into its extracurriculars. 

“Y/N!” 

You turned around and there was Nagi coming up to you. 

“Hey Nagi,” you replied feeling slightly shy from your flirtatious exchanges with him. 

“You like the stadium? Reo’s dad is this mega rich guy and he donated the funds and manpower to build it. He doesn’t care for soccer but he frequently donates funds to the school for them to use for whatever purpose they’d like.” 

You nodded. He looked handsome in his soccer uniform, the black jersey, shorts and black socks contrasting against his white hair and skin. 

“Oh before I forget, since you kept asking yesterday,” you said, taking the tea bottle out of the tote bag and giving it to him. That made him laugh in glee.

“Thanks for this,” he said gratefully. 

“Nagi! We need to warm up!” A purple haired figure shouted as he ran over. When he caught up to where the two of you were his equally purple eyes were distrustful of you. 

“Reo. This is Y/N. Remember I told you about her?” Nagi said. 

So this was Reo? His suspicious eyes took you all in.

“Yeah I remember. Nice to meet you,” he said but his words didn’t match his tone or expression.

“Nice to meet you too. Nagi’s talked a lot about you as well,” you said and you noticed that did soften his eyes a bit if not fully. 

Nagi seemed oblivious. 

“Y/N, if you sit there you’ll have a good view of me,” he said pointing to a specific section before continuing, “and I want you to look at me not any of these other guys.” 

His words sent a jolt of heat between your legs and to your face but you simply nodded and assured him you’d be watching him. 

“Nagi,” Reo scolded impatiently, “we have to warm up.” 

“Alright alright,” he said following him but yelling back to you, “stay after. Text me if you can’t find me.” 

You headed to the section he had designated would have the best view of him. 

Throughout the game Nagi had lived up to his gamertag. He truly was a god of soccer. He was lightning bolt fast his legs moved just as fast as you had seen his fingers were capable on the keyboard. 

He also worked incredibly well with Reo. They were a dynamic duo on the field and the passes between them were strategic. 

When Nagi had scored a goal he had looked directly at you and pointed, unmistakably claiming it had been for you. 

His team was in the lead right now and you hoped it would remain that way. 

During the halfway break, you waited eagerly waiting to see him again. When they came back his eyes searched for you instantly and met yours sending you a sweet smile. As expected his team won and you cheered happily for him. As others started leaving the stadium you waited for him afterwards like he had asked you to. 

You didn’t have to wait longer than ten minutes. He was racing towards you, changed clothes, freshly showered and his gym bag over his shoulder. To your dismay you noticed Reo tagging along behind. It’s not that you didn’t like him, you just didn’t understand his scowls and distrustful attitude toward you.

“Y/N! Did you like the game?” He asked, standing in front of the railing of the seat you had remained at. 

“I did. It was so great seeing you score,” you said. 

“I wanted to score for you,” he said, his cheeks turning pink. “Hey Reo and I are gonna go get something to eat. Do you wanna come?” 

Your eyes dashed to Reo a second after Nagi asked the question and you could tell he was exasperated.

“That’s okay I think I’m just gonna head home,” you said softly. 

Of course you wanted to spend time with Nagi but you couldn’t risk Reo disliking you even more after all he is Nagi’s best friend his opinion must count for something. 

Nagi, still oblivious to all this, furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Okay. Well when can I see you again?” He asked. He seemed hurt that you weren’t coming. 

“I’m free tomorrow. Maybe text me later and we can come up with something,” you offered, not feeling comfortable under Reo’s purple gaze. 

“Okay I will. Thanks for coming, it really means a lot,” he said, giving you a sideways hug now as you stepped down from the bench you had been sitting at. He towered over you and he smelled incredibly good. 

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed every minute of it.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“So how long have you and Reo known each other?” You asked as you took another mouthful of ramen. When you had gone home yesterday you had gotten caught up on school work and chores. Nagi had texted you at night and asked if you wanted to play some games to which you had agreed. Somewhere between steam rolling the enemy teams and playing silly custom games in the arcade he had suggested going out for ramen and boba the next night.

Now as the two of you sat in the restaurant’s outdoor patio seating with red paper lanterns illuminating the night sky you were interested in knowing more about his best friend who didn’t seem to take to you. 

“Not too long. I met him here at school probably six months ago,” he replied. 

“He seems very fond of you,” you said. 

Nagi shrugged.

“Reo got me into soccer and I have him to thank for that. Before him no one really talked to me at school.” 

This surprised you. He was good looking and charming, sure a bit strange and had his quirks but he was friendly and good company.

“Really? Not even girls?” You teased. 

“Especially girls,” he joked back. His gray eyes were looking at you softly. It gave your stomach butterflies. Lately it seemed like all he did was either give you butterflies or make you belly laugh. His hand reached out to lift your chin up so you were forced to meet his gray gaze head on. 

“You always look away from me when you notice me looking at you. You never look at me for too long,” he said in a gentle tone. 

“I don’t mean to on purpose,” you said trying to be casual although the thumping of your heart was a great contrast to the calm you were trying to portray. 

“I like when you look at me and when you watch me play video games and soccer,” he said, inching closer to bridge the gap between the two of you as you sat on opposite ends of the table. 

Was he going to kiss you? It seemed like that was his intention. You wanted to kiss him but worry and concern and feeling Reo’s stinging rejection you pulled your chin from his hand and looked away. When you glanced back at him he wasn’t looking at you for once but looking down at his lap with clear hurt in his eyes. 

“I thought you liked me too,” he said with embarrassment coloring his voice. You couldn’t take him thinking you were rejecting him, not when he was perfect and sweet and everything you could ever want.

“I do like you!” You said. 

“Then why won’t you let me kiss you? I want to so badly,” he asked in desperation.

“Reo-“ you started but he didn’t let you finish.

“Oh,” he said, sounding deflated, “do you like him or something?” It was obvious he was trying to sound nonchalant but jealousy threatened to burst through.

“No no I don’t. I mean I don’t dislike him. He’s your best friend so I don’t have anything against him. I just don’t like him in the way I like you,” you stammered. His response had thrown you off completely because it was the last thing you had expected him to say. 

“You don’t like him? Lots of girls do because his dad is that rich guy and girls think Reo is good looking,” Nagi said. 

“No, I don't see him that way. I like you,” you said, face flushing at your confession. 

“I’m confused. What does Reo have to do with you not letting me kiss you then?” 

“It’s just. Reo doesn’t seem to like me. He looks at me as if he’s distrustful and suspicious,” you said. 

Nagi instantly relaxed and laughed.

“Oh that’s just how he is. He’s very overprotective of me. It’s nothing personal he’ll grow out of it once you’re around more,” he said. 

While Nagi’s words assured you, you still found the whole bit a little odd but maybe that was just their friendship. Maybe Reo saw Nagi as a brother he looked out for. You decided to focus on the latter part of his sentence. 

“Once I’m around more?” 

At this he reached out across the table taking your hands in his.

“You know how I asked you if you have a boyfriend?” He asked playfully.

“Yes it wasn’t that long ago Nagi,” you replied.

“Well I want to be your boyfriend,” he said. He looked at you from under his long eyelashes, his gray eyes so sweet and vulnerable. 

“Well I don’t know this guy at the internet cafe told me to not go getting a boyfriend,” you teased.

“What a little prick he probably wants you for himself,” he went along with your joke. 

The two of you laughed before he spoke again, 

“Can I be your boyfriend? I promise to be good.” 

“Yes you can be Nagi,” you replied. 

“Awesome. Can I kiss you now?” He asked practically whining.

“Yes Nagi,” you laughed but your lips were soon overtaken by his. The kiss was sweet and made your head spin. 

You wondered if this is what it meant to be on cloud nine. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your routine for the past few weeks had become Nagi centered. 

You continued to go to the internet cafe regularly. In fact that’s where you spent the most time with Nagi since you still went to different schools. You would go watch him practice and go to his games, he had even given you one of his jerseys to wear and he was strict about you wearing it to each match. You’d stay up on video chat with him as well and watch as he streamed his games for you when you were too tired to play with him yourself. 

As for Reo, there wasn’t any progress to be made there as the two of you were still virtually strangers but at least his scowling had  toned down. 

“I wanna see you more often,” Nagi said, his lips kissing the top of your hair as you hugged him bye at the end of practice. 

“We see each other nearly everyday, Nagi,” you laughed. However he did have a point since the majority of the day you were at different schools you only saw him in the evenings at the internet cafe, at his practice, or when he had games on the weekends. You were also busy studying a lot of the time as well and still not feeling comfortable enough to hang out with him and Reo who was often around. 

“Why don’t you stay over this weekend?” He asked but was trying to hide the shyness he felt from asking. 

“You mean like at your dorm?” You asked. 

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. 

You thought about it, you were so comfortable with him you didn’t have any objections and most of all Reo wouldn’t be there. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“This is Choki,” Nagi said, motioning to a little cactus in a pot on his desk. You had your travel bag with you around your shoulder and had taken the metro to go to Nagi’s dorm in the late evening. 

He had met you at the stop and walked you back to his room. 

“It’s very cute,” you said. He was eye level with the cactus smiling at it. 

“He is very cute not it,” he replied defensively. 

“Yes he is cute,” you corrected, continuing to look around his room.

For a dorm room it was quite spacious but that was to be expected of the elite school. His bed was made and neat with a plush dinosaur throw blanket folded neatly on the comforter. He had a television in his room on a stand next to his desk where his PC was. His PC setup consisted of the rainbow keyboard and the koala plush and Choki next to it, and a gaming chair. He also had a mini fridge with a magnet holding up a photo of Reo and him that was taken on a Polaroid camera. Towards the entrance of the room there was a sink and mirror and the toilet was secluded in a cupboard-like closet separate from the full walk-in closet that held his clothes. The room was illuminated blue from the LED lights he had. 

“What do you think of my room?” He asked tentatively as he watched you inspect the place. 

“I like it. It seems very comfortable and clean,” you replied.

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Good because I cleaned it before you came over. I’m not a slob or anything but I can get disorganized because I procrastinate,” he explained. 

You nodded but felt yourself blushing as now the full prospect of being alone with him was setting in. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” He asked. 

“Sure,” you replied. 

He grabbed the remote and laid back on his bed, kicking off his shoes while doing so.

“You can lay down you know,” he teased watching as you stood there. You followed his lead and also took off your shoes, dropping your overnight bag on the floor and laid down next to him. Gently he brought you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair. He flicked through movies on the streaming service.

“Do you have a preference?” He asked. 

“We can watch whatever,” you replied. He chuckled.

“You’re not helping here,” he teased but then settled on an animated movie about animals. He started the film and then put the remote down, his arms still holding and caressing you. 

“Is this okay? I want you to be comfortable with me,” he asked. You could hear the vulnerability in his question however and knew that it would hurt him if you didn’t want him to touch you. Fortunately, you did enjoy his comfort and warmth. He felt like a bear hug. 

“It’s okay I’m comfortable like this,” you assured him. 

You watched the movie intently but your heart still pounded in excitement from his closeness and you wondered if he could hear it.

He watched the movie as well, occasionally peppering kisses into your hair or chuckling when he found something funny. It was peaceful and not awkward in the slightest. You enjoyed this comfort only Nagi could bring. If it were any other guy you’d worry about his intentions but when Nagi said watch a movie and spend time with you he meant it, not trying anything else besides cuddling.

Towards the end of the movie you heard slight snoring and looking up you saw Nagi had fallen asleep. He looked more boyish when sleeping. You watched the rest of the movie and when it finished you turned the tv off. Nagi was still fast asleep but you didn’t mind, taking it as a sign that he felt comfortable around you. Ever so carefully you moved out of his arms and went to brush your teeth using his sink. You then used his walk in closet to change into your oversized tee and shorts for sleeping. When you came back you saw Nagi blinking in confusion from having woken up. 

“I thought you left,” he said sadly.

“No Nagi, I was just changing. You fell asleep towards the end of the movie.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he rushed to get his words out but you were quick to assure him.

“It’s okay, I thought it was sweet. I didn’t wanna wake you but I already brushed up for bed.”

He looked you up and down in your pajamas and his eyes softened. He repositioned himself so he was now laying in the bed underneath the sheets and blankets.

“Come snuggle with me. It felt so good having you in my arms.”

You obeyed his words and got into bed with him facing towards him. His  eyes looked at you lovingly.

“I love having you here. I got up early today to clean my room and make sure everything was perfect. That’s partly why I fell asleep but most of it was because of you. Cuddling you and smelling the nice scent of your hair was so relaxing.”

His way of declaring loving and saying things so openly with his childlike innocence was so endearing to you. Other guys were much more guarded and wouldn’t admit such things out of fear of vulnerability but Nagi just said what he always thought. 

“I love being here with you Nagi, you make me feel so safe,” you replied truthfully.

He pouted a little.

“You know you can call me baby or honey or anything you want,” he said. 

“Okay baby,” you said, giggling a bit. It was still new and felt a little strange coming out of your mouth. 

“Hey what’s funny?” He asked before adding: “you’re my baby and I’m yours and that’s that.”  He pulled you closer to him as you laughed.

“You’re right baby, you’re so needy,” you joked. 

He pouted again but it didn’t last long because he kissed you nice long and slow. He tasted so good like mint and just Nagi, his ocean breeze scent intermingling with the kiss. Your hands felt his soft white hair as you kissed and he moaned a little into your mouth. 

When your kiss broke you gazed at each other. 

“You mean everything to me,” he said, cupping your cheek. You curled up closer in his arms so he could snuggle you again how he had loved.

“You mean so much to me too,” you told him. He yawned.

“I wanna sleep with you again, it felt so good. This feels so good, but don’t get any ideas. I brushed my teeth before you got here,” he said. 

That made you belly laugh and swat him a little in laughter.

“What? It's true I always brush my teeth right before I see you. I want you to like me,” he said innocently.

“I do like you,” you said. In fact you were starting to think you more than liked him and as you both dozed off to sleep you heard him say the words you had been thinking out loud and it was the last thing you heard before being overtaken by sleep. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’ll be here waiting,” you told Nagi as he ran off towards the locker rooms to change for practice.

This morning you had woken up completely entangled and cuddled into him. His long legs had interlaced yours and after very prolonged kisses and cuddles you had gone out for miso soup for breakfast at a little restaurant nearby then returned to the high school campus for his practice. 

“I was almost starting to think he wasn’t gonna show up,” a voice said behind you. You turned around and Reo was standing behind you on the field already dressed in his uniform for practice.

“Reo, where did you come from?” You asked wondering how the two of you hadn’t noticed him on the way in.

He ignored your question and you felt small under his violet intense eyes. 

“You know Nagi is never late for practice. He’s usually here early with me,” he said in an accusatory tone. 

“Yeah sorry about that it’s just-“ you stammered but he cut you off.

“It’s just you were with Nagi last night and because of that he was thrown off routine this morning,” he finished for you. By now you felt yourself growing frustrated with him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t make any effort to know you, your only mutual connection was Nagi and he seemed hell bent on disliking you.

“Reo what is your problem with me?” You asked out of genuine curiosity and frustration.

He seemed more than happy to tell you.

“My problem is that ever since you’ve come into Nagi’s life he’s been changing. It all started with him wanting to spend more time at the internet cafe and when he told me it was because of some girl I knew it would become a problem,” he said. 

Nagi had been spending more time at the internet cafe not to play games but because he had wanted to see you? He had noticed you before he had even spoken to you and liked you? If it weren’t for this confrontation with Reo now you’d relish in that fact more.

“How is it a problem? We’re not doing anything wrong,” you said in an effort to defend yourself. 

“Maybe not, but Nagi isn’t like other guys, surely you’ve noticed that. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s a good guy. I don’t need you hurting him when he’s already changing for you,” he said.

“Changing how?” You said not fully understanding. 

“He’s more motivated. Before you I had to do everything for him because he thinks everything is a hassle. He showers after every game now because he knows you’re there waiting for him, he cleans his room because he knows you’re coming over, he does those things he normally wouldn’t wanna do because he has you in mind.” 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You asked. 

Reo’s gaze was still sharp. 

“Maybe so but if you hurt him I’m worried he’s gonna be worse than before. Before he was just lazy after you hurt him he’ll just be unmotivated and depressed.” 

Your heart hurts at the thought. 

“I’m not gonna hurt him,” you said quietly. 

Reo didn’t seem convinced. 

“You and I both know that’s not how relationships work. Eventually you’ll hurt him and when you do I’ll never forgive you.” 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

GodOfSoccer: where did you go after practice? I thought you were gonna wait for me but Reo said you left early :( 

You saw the whisper message come through the game server as you loaded up the game to play. You had set your status to offline but Nagi was savvy enough to know when you were online. 

SleepyKoala: I didn’t feel good 

GodOfSoccer: do you need me to come over? i can take care of you 

SleepyKoala: No it’s okay 

GodOfSoccer: do you wanna play a few games? 

SleepyKoala: I think I just wanna play by myself 

GodOfSoccer: oh alright 

GodOfSoccer: good luck in your games :) 

GodOfSoccer went offline

You sighed as you watched him go offline and you knew you had hurt his feelings despite his good natured response. Nagi was never offline and he wasn’t the type to set his status to offline so you knew he was really not gonna play games tonight which didn’t bode well. You didn’t mean to hurt him, it's just you couldn’t get Reo’s words out of your head. He’d never forgive you if you hurt Nagi? You’d never forgive yourself. He was so good and sweet and pure and Reo was right that relationships were messy. Did you really want to be the one to give Nagi his first heartbreak? 

You tried to play a few games but it was futile, the game had grown stale without him. 

You logged off and crawled into bed. Soon it began to pour outside and it reflected your inner state. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The next two weeks were exam season so luckily you had an excuse to not be around Nagi as often. 

You stopped going to the internet cafe altogether and instead went to your school’s library to study. These days you only saw Nagi at his games and though he was understanding about it because he knew you had to study you could tell he was sad.

The two of you still texted at night but the conversation grew stale as Nagi wasn’t always the best texter and from your experience with him you knew that comfortable laid back atmosphere of being at peace with him was something text couldn’t capture. Text was made for talking and it forced this dynamic where it felt as if you always had to come up with something to say and often times the best moments with Nagi were just being able to enjoy each other’s presence. 

When you got home from school one afternoon you had noticed a bouquet of flowers waiting for you on the porch table. 

You had taken the flowers to your room and put them in a vase with water. You got your phone out to text him. 

You: Thanks for the flowers 

Nagi: you’re welcome. I know you’ve been working hard studying and I wanted you to have something to brighten up your desk. 

Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness and again you wondered why you were being so distant. You knew it wasn’t fair to him but what Reo said really got to you. You knew he was only looking out for his best friend but you were worried you were really going to be the one to hurt Nagi. 

Nagi: I miss you :( 

Nagi: Are you coming to my game tomorrow? 

You felt overwhelmed by it all. The flowers, his double texting, and all the while you still felt Reo’s disapproving eyes on you as if he were watching you now. Part of you thought maybe it was better to back out of things early on before they got any deeper. Maybe then Nagi wouldn’t be as hurt. It was that rationale that led to your reply:

You: Sorry I can’t. I have to study now more than ever. 

Nagi: oh okay

He didn’t say anything more after that. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When you woke up the next morning you had ten missed calls from an unsaved number. You also had text messages as well. You unlocked your phone in confusion. The messages read:

It’s Reo, are you awake? 

Nagi is hurt he got hurt at the game 

He’s been crying for you and wants you here

You instantly called the number back. 

“Reo what’s wrong? Where are you guys?” You asked, your panic and worry not giving you time to feel weird about calling him. 

“We’re headed to a nearby medcenter clinic that's across the school. You can meet us there,” he said then hung up. 

You raced outta bed and got dressed quickly. You didn’t bother to eat breakfast as all you could think about was how you hadn’t been there for Nagi. You were so worried and your heart hurt. 

The ride on the metro seemed obnoxiously long despite being the same as always. You anxiously tapped your fingers along your thighs the whole way there. 

At last you arrived and headed toward the clinic Reo had described. You felt nervous and shy as a nurse directed you to what room Nagi was in when you asked and told her you were his girlfriend. 

In front of his door you hesitated a little bit not knowing what to expect. How hurt was Nagi? Would he be upset with you for not being there for him? The only answers you’d get would be through that door. 

You pushed the door open slowly. 

Nagi was laying down in bed with his right ankle wrapped in med bandages and an ice pack against it. He perked up instantly when he saw you.

“Hey I knew you’d come,” he said. This wasn’t what you expected. He wasn't upset with you at all.

“Reo said you asked for me,” you said, noticing how the room was devoid of any purple. 

“I did. I needed my girl,” he said. His words tugged at your heartstrings as you walked closer to the bed so you were right beside him. 

“Where is Reo?” You asked. 

“He went to get us some food from the cafeteria and call my parents,” he said. You stroked his hair. 

“So how bad is it?” You asked. 

“Not too bad it’s just a sprained ankle but it hurt like hell when it happened. It should heal quickly,” he said. 

You nodded and stopped stroking his hair. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when it happened,” you said. 

He shrugged but you could tell he was a little downcast even if he didn’t say it.

“It’s okay I know you’ve been busy,” he said. There was an awkward tension in the air that you knew was your doing. You were the one that had been distant lately. You just didn’t want to hurt him but it seems like you already were. 

“How long are you gonna be here?” You asked.

“Reo wants me to stay for a few days for some reason since he thinks I won’t take care of it but I told him I have you to take care of me,” he said beaming up at you his smile wavered when you didn’t react and added,”you will take care of me won’t you?” 

You wished he hadn’t asked that with his begging gray eyes that looked at you with the eagerness of a puppy.

“Nagi I’m just really busy right now, maybe Reo is right,” you said softly. His face fell.

“Why don’t you wanna be around me anymore? Am I doing something wrong? Am I spending too much time on soccer?” He asked. 

“No Nagi it’s not like that-“

“Bullshit. I know you have to study but you always did before and we were able to see each other. I’ve tried to be a good boyfriend and spend time with you by letting you stay over. I just don’t know what I did,” his voice almost broke. You reached for his hands but he pulled them away.

“Nagi, you didn’t do anything. I love being with you and spending time with you,” you said. He looked at you again, his eyes ever so stormy and sad.

“Then tell me the truth,” he pleaded. 

You swallowed, you'd tell him the truth but you didn’t want to make Reo look bad after all he was his best friend. 

“You remember the morning after I slept over and we went to your practice?” You started reluctantly.

“Yes,” he replied, understandably confused.

“Reo started talking to me and saying this stuff about how he’s scared I’ll hurt you. He told me how you’re already changing for me and taking initiative and doing things you normally wouldn’t like: showering after your games and waking up early to clean your room. He’s worried I’ll break your heart and you’ll be unmotivated and depressed.” 

There was silence for about a minute after you told him this. He was the first to break it.

“He really told you I didn’t shower after games before you?” He asked.

“I guess he kinda implied it,” you said wondering why he focused so much on that part. 

“Well that’s embarrassing,” he said with a wry smile before adding,”you don’t have to worry about hurting me.” He reached for your hand now and brought it up to his lips to kiss softly. 

“Why aren’t you more concerned about this? Reo is right. Relationships are messy and people get hurt and I don’t want to hurt you ever,” you said shivering at how his lips felt against your skin. 

“Reo is cynical. Yes people get hurt but I don’t wanna close myself off from you just because something may or may not happen.” He kept your hand laced in his and that’s how the two of you stood until Reo himself walked in a few moments later. He had two trays of sandwiches that he set down and seeing the state the two of you were in he asked: “Am I interrupting?”

“No Reo, I actually wanted to talk to you. Why have you been telling my girlfriend that she’s gonna hurt me?” Nagi asked in a conversational tone.

Reo glanced at you before looking back at Nagi.

“Nagi, you know everything I do is to protect you. I don’t want you getting hurt. You know how the girls at school are,” Reo replied. 

You didn’t understand this and looked curiously at Nagi but he ignored you.

“She’s not like that, she's nice to me and sweet and I need the two of you to get along otherwise you’re hurting me both,” he said firmly. 

At last you and Reo looked at each other, his last words resonating with both of you so there was no malice or ill will in the others eyes.

A nurse interrupted, coming in and saying she was going to change Nagi’s bandages to freshen them up before he left for the night and you and Reo were ushered into the hallway. 

“Thanks for coming,” Reo said genuinely once the door closed behind the two of you. 

“You’re welcome. I really care about him,” you said. 

“Yeah I can see that,” he said, running a hand through his hair that was loose out of its usual ponytail. 

“I didn’t mean to snitch on you or anything like that. I only told Nagi because he was asking why I was being so distant,” you said to him. He nodded in understanding. 

“No it’s fine I knew something was up when he was bumming around and blue because you weren’t around all of a sudden. It’s my fault,” he said. Now that he wasn’t looking at you with suspicion he seemed friendly and you could see why he got along with Nagi. 

“I know you were just trying to protect him since he’s your best friend,” you said.

“Still I shouldn’t have said anything to you like that or in that way. The last thing I wanted was for Nagi to be sad but I seemed to have caused it by you being distant. I've never seen him so down like that before.” His words made you feel guilty, after all you had only distanced yourself in order to not hurt him. 

“What did you mean by that comment about girls at your school?” You asked him. 

“Girls at school think Nagi is weird. Well, not just the girls but everyone does. He sticks to himself and he’s not concerned with impressing people the way everyone else is,” he said. 

You did know Nagi was a bit odd but he was endearing and now you knew why Reo was so protective of him. He was very attractive as well so you had truly thought he was joking when he had said that girls especially don’t talk to him. 

“Reo I wanna be able to get along. I don’t wanna stay away from Nagi because I care about him,” you said, deciding to call for a truce.

“Yeah that sounds good to me. I guess I  judged you unfairly and like Nagi said he wants us to be able to get along. It’s just always been him and me so I have to get used to it,” he said. 

You assured him you didn’t wanna ruin his and Nagi’s friendship and that of course they’d still be able to do the things they’ve always done. When the nurse came out of the room you both went back inside to find Nagi playing games on his phone in his typical fashion. 

You and Reo smiled at each other both knowing this was a sign he was recovering. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I never said thank you,” Nagi said, stopping in his tracks as you both walked in the park.

It had been three weeks since his injury and he had recovered with you by his side. These walks with him had been a form of physical therapy but once he had healed they had stuck around as a routine thing for you two. 

“For what?” You asked. 

“For accepting being my girlfriend. I had liked you for a long time before I spoke to you and I was always too nervous to do so,” he said. He looked wonderful surrounded by the cherry blossoms of the trail you too were on. It had been his idea to go cherry blossom viewing with you and he had been looking forward to it for weeks even drawing a little blossom on your calendar for this date. 

“You’re welcome. Reo had told me about how you had started spending more time at the internet cafe because of me,” you said. A blush the color of the blossoms formed on his cheeks.

“The only downside to you and Reo being friends now is that he tells you all the embarrassing unfiltered things about me,” Nagi said but you could tell it meant a lot to him that you and Reo got along. 

In the weeks following Nagi’s injury you had stayed with him at his dorm and took care of him and Reo would come over in the evenings and all three of you would binge watch shows and movies you took turns picking. Of course you and Nagi continued to support Reo by watching him practice and coming to games as well while Nagi was healing. 

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing. It’s sweet you like me so much,” you said. 

He reached out to cup your face in his hands in the way he was so fond of doing. 

“I more than like you,” he said seriously before adding,”I know you were scared of hurting me but the truth is I’m not scared to be hurt if it’s by you. I wanna be with you always.” 

Your head was spinning at the way his eyes penetrated into yours. 

“I more than like you too,” you said shyly. He looks at you lovingly before leaning in to kiss you. 

When he pulls away he looks into your eyes and tells you those three words you had sworn you had heard before you had dozed off to sleep when you had slept over: “I love you.” 

This time as he kisses you again even though it feels like it, you know you’re not dreaming.

[nylpad]

MASQUERADE

Warnings: secrets, mild peril (correct me if I left some out)

In the heart of Paris, where the city lights dance with the Seine, Y/N lived a life colored by the mundane strokes of daily routine. But amidst the ordinary, there was one extraordinary exception—Chat Noir, the enigmatic hero whose daring feats were the whispers of legends.

Y/N's fascination with Chat Noir was no secret. They followed every reported sighting, every tale of his heroics spun into the night air. Yet, for all the admiration, Y/N never imagined their paths would cross beyond the pages of the morning paper.

It began one evening, as Y/N lingered at a café terrace, the remnants of an espresso painting patterns in a small white cup. A flicker of movement caught their eye—a shadow against the moonlit backdrop of the city. It was him, Chat Noir, leaping across rooftops with feline agility.

Their meetings became a series of chance encounters, each more thrilling than the last. Chat Noir, always the gentleman, would often escort Y/N home, ensuring their safety with a playful wink and a promise of "Until next time."

But as the nights passed, Y/N noticed something—a pattern in Chat Noir's disappearances, a familiarity in his mannerisms. Curiosity piqued, Y/N began to piece together the puzzle, each clue bringing them closer to the truth behind the mask.

Chat Noir, however, was no fool. He saw the curiosity in Y/N's eyes, the questions on the tip of their tongue. He knew the danger that knowledge could bring—not to him, but to Y/N. The hero's life was one of solitude for a reason, and that reason was to keep the ones he cared for out of harm's way.

So, he tried to distract Y/N, with grander tales and more daring rescues, anything to keep them from the truth. But the heart wants what it wants, and Y/N's heart wanted to know the man behind the myth.

The game of cat and mouse intensified with each passing day. Y/N's pursuit of the truth became a silent obsession, one that filled the pages of their sketchbook with notes and theories. Chat Noir's visits, once a source of joy, now sparked a burning curiosity that refused to be quenched.

Y/N began to notice the little things—the way Chat Noir's laugh echoed a familiar tune, the subtle hints of a shared favorite book, and the peculiar timing of his appearances. It was as if the universe itself was dropping breadcrumbs, leading Y/N down a path they couldn't resist following.

Chat Noir, for his part, was becoming increasingly flustered. His attempts to divert Y/N's attention only seemed to fuel their resolve. He knew he had to be more careful, to guard his secret with even greater vigilance. But the heart has a way of betraying even the most guarded of secrets, and his was no exception.

One evening, as the city celebrated the Festival of Lights, Y/N and Chat Noir found themselves amidst the vibrant display of fireworks. The sky was ablaze with color, each explosion a symphony of light that mirrored the turmoil in Chat Noir's soul.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Y/N remarked, their eyes reflecting the spectacle above.

Chat Noir nodded, his gaze lingering on Y/N's face. "Not as beautiful as the truth that's hiding in plain sight," he thought to himself.

As the night drew to a close, Y/N made a bold decision. They would confront Chat Noir, demand answers to the questions that haunted their dreams. But as they turned to speak, they found him gone, vanished like a whisper in the wind.

Days turned into weeks, and Chat Noir's visits ceased altogether. Y/N felt a void where once there was excitement, a silence where there was laughter. The absence of the hero left a bitter taste, a reminder of the unresolved mystery that lay between them.

Determined to find closure, Y/N set out on a quest to uncover the truth. They retraced Chat Noir's steps, followed the tales of his heroics, and slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.

It was on a rainy afternoon, in the quiet of a quaint Parisian bookstore, that Y/N's world shifted on its axis. A chance encounter, a familiar voice, and the sight of a well-worn ring led to the revelation that would change everything.

The man behind the mask, the hero who had captured Y/N's heart, was none other than...

Adrien Agreste

The son of the famous fashion designer, Gabriel Agreste. The revelation hit Y/N like a thunderclap, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together with a clarity that was almost blinding.

Y/N's mind raced with memories—Chat Noir's grace, his humor, the way he seemed to understand the heart of Paris. It all made sense now. The hero of Paris was the boy who had sat two rows ahead in art class, the one whose sketches had danced across the page with a life of their own.

But with the truth laid bare, Y/N was faced with a dilemma. Adrien, or rather Chat Noir, had gone to great lengths to keep his identity a secret. Did Y/N have the right to confront him? Would revealing their knowledge put him in danger?

The days that followed were a battle between Y/N's conscience and their desire to share the burden of the secret they now carried. They watched Adrien from afar, noticing the weight that seemed to rest upon his shoulders, the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

It was a chance encounter at the Louvre, amidst the timeless art and wandering tourists, that fate decided to take a hand. Y/N and Adrien reached for the same sketchbook, their fingers brushing, and in that moment, a silent understanding passed between them.

"Y/N," Adrien began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I know that you know."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Adrien, I—"

"Please," he interrupted, his green eyes pleading. "Don't say it out loud. Just... promise me you'll keep my secret. For Paris."

Y/N nodded, the promise sealed in their heart. "Your secret is safe with me. But why do you do it, Adrien? Why risk everything?"

He smiled, a genuine smile that Y/N had come to cherish. "Because Paris is worth it. Because you're worth it. A bit of freedom.... You know."

From that day on, Y/N became Chat Noir's silent ally, the keeper of his secret. And as the sun set over the city of love, Y/N realized that their love for the hero hadn't changed with the unmasking. If anything, it had only grown stronger, for now, they loved the man behind the mask as well.

[reicchel]

Sum up of this trip's KnY-inspired outfits

or "the utter success of Giyuu's cardigan"

While going out in full cosplay was not possible, nothing was going to stop @demonslayedher and I from sparkling our style with some subtle and not-so-subtle KnY items to evoke different dear characters.

It wasn't something we planned beforehand, but the amazing @kuwajima got me a fantastic Giyuu cardigan that arrived the day I had to leave. It was so last minute that I only told Buri about it right before meeting at the station.

We changed the outfit plans we had for USJ but we'll show you that when we show you that. (We're very busy adults, sorry).

She gifted me an ohagi t-shirt my most precious shirt atm and I had also got her a muki muki mice shirt, so on Saturday, after leaving the ryokan, we put up an Uzui and a Giyuu + Sanemi outfit and went shopping in Umeda.

Beside the shirt and the flashy lanyard, she also had some flashy make-up on and a muki muki mouse in her itabag. I had the Giyuu cardigan and borrowed the Sanemi bracelet, and did some Sanemi inspired make-up.

We had so much fun that day because people enjoyed seeing our outfits. The cardigan was what drew their attention in the first place, and then if they looked closely they would catch the rest, which is something that would probably annoy Uzui to no end. We went to a fashion boutique and a lady working there recognized it. But right as we were exiting the place, an old lady with a tote bag with the exact same design as my shirt was walking in. We wished we had stayed to see the reaction of the shop assistant, but that would've been kinda weird.

Buri heard some people talk about KnY around us, like a girl in the crowd who whispered "Giyuu-san...". But the best reaction by far was the guy who just started singing Gurenge behind us as we were waiting to cross the street.

On Sunday, we had a Swordsmith Village snack time in the Kimetsu Kitchen. Buri put on her Tanjiro + Kotetsu "nanikore" t-shirt (also shown here) to keep in line, and didn't let go of my cardigan once she discovered how cozy and warm it was. I did get to use the Giyuu mug, but had to settle with putting Rengoku's spectacles on top of my head (which may or may not be just some flame-shaped sunglasses that Buri keeps by the kitchen for emergency closet play purposes, I suppose). I should've pretended to be looking for them, but I missed the opportunity.

On our last night together, we went for a simple Tanjiro and Giyuu combo. We were possessed by their ghosts and you can see over there how it played out.

[graceshouldwrite]

How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

[ticklish-n-stuff]

Tickletober day #4: Hide and Seek

Also on ao3

______________________________________________________________

Aether x Albedo (interpret as you wish)

Lee: Aether

Ler: Albedo

Warnings: Tickles! I'm so normal ab Albedo

______________________________________________________________

Aether wasn’t sure how he had managed to get the ever stoic chief alchemist of the Knights of Favonius to play windtrace with him. Call it that traveler charm, and Albedo’s ever growing infatuation with him, but hey, anything to get that guy to loosen up.

Albedo was mainly known for his genius when it came to alchemy, and apparently his awful seeking skills, Aether thought to himself. 

He couldn’t help but snicker behind a crate as he peaked over, observing a lost and frustrated Albedo. Deciding to play cheeky, the traveler exposed himself to the alchemist. Only to run out of sight when he was about to be caught. They kept up this cat and mouse chase, Albedo always being a handful too short of tagging the traveler. Aether wasn’t the (in)famous traveler for nothing.

If Albedo wanted to win, he needed to step up and fast. Determined to wipe that smug smirk off the traveler’s face, he flung himself towards the blonde. Sending them both tumbling across the ground, leaving a satisfied Albedo hovering over a mischievous traveler.

“Finally… I won this round” he said, as if he forgot all of his previous losses, the alchemist couldn’t help but smirk proudly. “Y’know, I think I deserve a reward after that stunt of yours”.

Before Aether could even ask what he meant, a high-pitched squeal forced its way out of his throat when he felt gloved fingers scribbling across his exposed stomach.

“Wahahait!! Not that! Albedo, plehehease!” his desperate pleading echoed in the open space, not doing him many favors as the alchemist’s smirk grew more smug. Making Aether’s cheeks flush at the sight.

“Heh, just as I thought. This smile suits you way better than that cocky one~” his fingers started squeezing and kneading the traveler’s hips like dough, sending him into further hysterics.

“Nahahahao! I’m sorry! Quit ihihit!” Aether whined like a toddler through his giggle fit, his hands ever so weakly grabbing at Albedo’s. Of course, the alchemist quickly picked up on the lack of force.

“I don’t know… something tells me that you’re enjoying yourself~” Albedo brought his tickly fingers back to the exposed belly, delicately circling his index finger around the blonde’s navel. 

“Eep! Wahait! Not there! I’ll dihihie!” Aether’s expression grew nervous yet full of childlike giddiness. He really did a bad job at hiding his enjoyment.

Albedo couldn’t help but chuckle at his victim’s dramatics. If anything, it encouraged him to dip his finger into the little button, giving it a few playful swirls. 

“heeEEYAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO—” Aether’s laughter grew silent. His hips desperately bucked in place before falling limp. His eyes were squeezed shut, started to glisten with small tears. Cheeks as ripe as apples, and that smile. That dazzling smile that has managed to capture the hearts of everyone in Teyvat, especially this alchemist. 

After staring in awe for a bit longer did Albedo finally finish the ticklish torment. Watching as Aether took greedy breaths, that toned chest heaving with each one he took. 

“You okay?” the alchemist couldn’t help but ask in such a soft tone, reaching over to brush back some of the messy strands of hair that got all tousled during the spectacle.

Aether nodded up at him with a bright smile, giving a thumbs up. Albedo could feel a genuine smile of his own forming. What a rollercoaster of events today was, but one thing was for certain. Albedo was so glad he agreed to tag along.

______________________________________________________________

[cosmogone-spectacles]

I, for one, would definitely be interested in learning about your flondon main, if you're willing to share

Oh, I suppose I can go ahead and share a tad... presuming my poor, skittish heart survives the ordeal. ^_^;; +++

"D. T. Oversol, Silverer. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

(Portrait by my good friend Cheru at @cheru-art-time!)

Primary Skills: Persuasive / Dangerous; Glasswork / Artisan of the Red Sciences

Feel free to send a calling card! Lengthier character introduction beneath the cut. +++

Mr. Oversol (or Oversol, as he is commonly referred – he seems rather particular about sharing more than the initials of the rest of his name) is an immensely private individual. Whilst he is semi-commonly present at a variety of high-society events, and, of course, the occasional apocalyptic threat to London, he always seems to subtly direct conversation towards topics related to others rather than himself. This aire of mystique, as some have put it, is only furthered by the bombazine-dark veil he has not been seen without in many a year. ...In fact, one might note, he wears black gloves, too, and a high-collared shirt, and even dark spectacles beneath hat heavy veil... God forbid one foregoes manners enough to ask about all the pomp directly, of course. High society leaves little room for such straightforwardness. A silverer by trade, his services are peculiarly difficult to obtain. First comes the mere challenge of locating the blasted man, should you not find yourself fortunate enough (or, em, unfortunate enough?) to be inundated with party invites. Oversol's offices lie somewhere in the twisted back-streets set about the foot of the Bazaar, and the longer one searches the clearer it becomes he may not want it to be found. Does he even have clientele? And why, for goodness sake, is a silverer rumoured to turn away all of the Bohemian-and-creative sort? Truth be told, Oversol is a bit of a hermit – mostly due to a displeasure with rowdy environments, a few too many suitors, and a healthy appreciation for his own privacy. This most certainly has nothing to do with a rising paranoia that has grown steadily over his years in the Neath, and irrational fears over what exactly some unsavory party might do with information on his good self. He makes true companions exceptionally slowly due to this, and finds himself primarily in the company of one Dola Hallowrove, monster hunter (@peliginspeaks), and a Captain-Correspondent Ren Haarsink (@indefinitely-sealed). —Er, perhaps not the latter. Not at current. Not after recent events. Regardless of the man's paranoid tendencies, and resulting stiff public face, he is exceptionally warm and loyal to those he considers his trusted and beloved few. They, of course, are welcome at his office any time of any day (set just beneath his lodgings, in fact; both are decorated in expensive fashion, yet stay within the line of good taste), aside from the middle of his appointments, and may even be allowed knowledge of his dear young daughte– ahem, feline companion, Boo. Sure, his gifts tend to be inordinately and unnecessarily expensive, and he will most certainly refuse a romp through Prickfinger or any other destination lacking a proper road, but you can always count on him to lend a good ear and as many perfectly-steeped cups of tea as you'd like. (Oh, ah— One last little thing. You would be well-advised not to allow him inebriation; he's a nasty rash streak with a little alcohol in his system. Last time he took drinks at a bar, he ended up across the zee on Gaider's Mourn daring pirates to most unreasonably dangerous competitions. Ghastly, that hangover was. Ghastly, and awfully zalty.)

('Portrait' by me, on MSpaint with mouse, because my tablet is broken.)