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angelamajiki · 4 years ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Fatgum x Female! Sidekick! Reader

CW: noncon, voyeurism, bell bulge, size kink, praise kink, breeding, cunninglingus, bondage, dumbification

AN: This is a piece for Fern’s 1k Event! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ! Read the intro and first piece before reading this one! Ty <3 P.S. the italicized quotes are Nighteye’s and reader prior convo

Gluttony: The Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno

“What I like about gluttony,' a bishop I knew used to say, 'is that it doesn't hurt anyone else.'”

You hadn’t the faith to believe him when he said it.

It was hard to call the exchanges that occurred between the two of you a conversation. More or less, he spoke the truth of your reality and you simply didn’t have the gall to question it.

The elevator he thrust you into was cold and unnerving despite the cheesy jazz music that thankfully filled the void of silence you were sure would have deafened you if it prolonged itself. It gave you time to think on his words, more so than you would have liked to.

“The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind. It is a poison that is all-consuming of the senses.”

Gluttony was the next trial, so it seemed. Lord knows what lies ahead for you, leaving you foolishly clutching to the notion that this circle couldn’t possibly be worse than the last.

The abrupt halt to the elevator allows the gravity of the situation to sink in fully. The inescapable horror was creeping in through the crack in the door, especially when it opened to find a man waiting for you.

And what a man he was, standing at nearly eight feet.

“Just the gal I was lookin’ for! I was worried my favorite lil sidekick had run off right after quitin’ time.”

An enormous, gloved hand clapped down on your shoulder, lingering far longer than you would have liked.

“Follow me to my office, yeah? I got something I wanna discuss with ya.”

And just like that, the string of fate slipped around your neck like a noose and pulled you along down the empty hallway, save for you, the man, and the numerous amounts of plaques, awards, and other celebratory memorabilia decorating the agency halls.

Judging by the pictures you saw yourself in, you were a hero of sorts, working alongside the unnamed man and two others you had yet to meet. Hopefully, your paths would never cross.

Even inside his office, you could see the remnants of what your life would be in this circle of hell. Whoever was with you seemed to be very fond of you, given the number of photographs and newspaper clippings adorning his desk and walls of the office.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and not just your fantastic work as a hero. Been thinking about what a fine woman you’ve grown to be.”

Those large hands found your shoulders again, stroking and rubbing to set you at ease in his grasp.

“Strong.”

One dipped down to your waist.

“Sweet.”

The other onto your arm.

“Everything a man like me needs. You sure fill my appetite in more than one way.”

Finally, the rest on your hips, thumbing circles into the soft flesh he took purchase in there.

Ah, so this was the glutton in question.

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean.”

Just play dumb, maybe this circle will have mercy on you.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, honey. There’s no reason to get all shy on me; I promise I don’t bite-”

His hand slid up to your neck, resting comfortably while enveloping the entirety of it with just his palm.

“Unless you ask for it.”

The whisper in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you frozen in his grasp. It was undeniable that you would never beat him, no matter what your power may be in this world. Hell, if you even had one, how certain were you that you could use it?

Your options were far and few between, but laying down and taking it like some pathetic little bitch was not going to be an option for you. Not here, not now.

The shrill sound of your own voice even hurt your own ears as you cried for help, thrashing wildly in the grip of the man.

Your cries for help should have been chosen more carefully, seeing as when your two apparent saviors sped into the room, they opted to help the man pin you down even further.

“Damn, she’s being a feisty little thing-”

“Fatgum, let go of her neck! You’re gonna hurt her.”

“S-Should we really be doing this?”

And so you were left bound against the top of the desk, shrouded in a swarth of tentacles pinning your legs open and your hands above your head.

“Thank you, boys. Didn’t realize she would cause such a stir.”

So Fatgum was his name, or so it appeared to be an alias of some sorts.

“Fatgum, please-”

His smile was sickeningly sweet as he towered over you.

“Awe, no need for formalities with me, sugar plum. Just call me Tai, yeah?”

The two other men stood beside you, watching their boss closely as he dealt with you.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.”

Damn that cursed man for sending you down here in that goddamn elevator. This journey alone made it nearly impossible to keep this strength to see your mother again alive.

“Tai, please. I don’t-” His hearty laugh cut you off. “Begging already, sugar? By the fight you put up, I’d almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t!” You protested, squirming in your slimy bonds before they tightened uncomfortably around you.

“Don’t yell at him like that. It's unbecoming of you.”

The raven-haired man snapped at you, looking down with a blush seared across his face and up to his ears.

“Relax, Tamaki. She just needs a reminder of who she belongs, ain’t that right? But, he’s right, I can't have you mouthing off like that, now can I?”

Slipping his black mask off his eyes, Tai fastened it around your mouth and head, loosely gagging you.

“Yeah, you belong to us!”

It was the redhead’s turn to pipe up before Tai shushed the pair of men.

“Now, now, I know you’re fond of our sweet little sidekick here, but this?”

He clapped a hand over still clothed pussy, rubbing gently.

“This here is mine; you boys can’t have this. But you’re more than welcome to stay and watch as I indulge myself.”

You whined into the gag, looking at him with teary eyes as he ripped a hole in your bottoms and panties.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, honeybun. You're safe with me, okay? I’m gonna take such good care of my little sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing.”

His large fingers stroked over your clit slowly and tenderly, kissing your salty tears away as he shushed you with praise and loving words. Thumbing your clit, he pushed his middle fingers into you at a slow pace, grinning softly when you bit back a moan.

“Come on now, girl. We wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel, ain’t that right, boys?”

Their collective groans of pleasure gave you all the response you needed; those sick fucks were getting off on you being harassed by your boss.

His finger sped up in pace, making you squeal once he curled his finger in an upwards motion. “Can’t wait to hear what you’ll sound like on my cock, sweet girl. Gonna sing us a nice song?”

Another finger slipped in as his free hand pawed at your tits, fondling and groping as he finger fucked you a new sense of vigor.

“As much as I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart, I’m just itching to get inside you and feel that pretty cunt around me. You understand, don’t you? I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

His lips continued to litter your skin in kisses to your face, licking at the tears that fell from your eyes when he added a third finger into your tight, wet hole.

“Mhm, you won’t mind if I have a taste, do ya?”

You could only whine in response.

“Of course you don’t, my good girl never says no to me.”

A hot mouth sealed itself around your clit as three fingers pumped in and out of you steadily, hitting all the right spots repeatedly. You squealed and shook in your binds, feeling your orgasm approaching hard and fast with the aid of his tongue lapping and suckling at you.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

That was all you needed to feel yourself reach that blinding peak, sobbing and writhing as he rode out your ecstasy. His tongue continued to work at you far after you were finished, overestimating you without a care in the world. Your whines of protest fell on deaf ears as he just pulled your body closer to his face.

“Taste so good, sweetheart. I’ll stop when I’m finished with my meal, y’understand? This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Leaving you twitching and sobbing, Tai finally pulled away and stood up, pulling his cock out and stroking it above you.

“Can’t wait to breed my pussy. Gonna make you my cute little cream puff.”

Both of his massive hands circled around you waist, pulling you flush against him as he sank all the way into your tight heat. The stretch of his girth was quite nearly unbearable as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you, rubbing the small bulge in your belly with fondness while peering down at you.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I knew you’d be so good for me. Yer takin’ me so well.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slowly pulled out, leaving your legs twitching wildly when his thumb found its way back to your clit before he sank back in all the way. You could snark about how courteous it was of him to allow you to adjust, but the thread of consciousness was hard to grasp onto as he completely dominated your mind with numbing pleasure.

“You were made to take my cock, sweet thing. Let me give you a treat for bein’ so obedient for me.”

His praise went straight to your gut, as much as you hated to admit it, leaving you feeling pliable and soft under his demanding touch. Those hands around your waist pulled at your body, bringing you back and forth on his cock like you were a goddamn fleshlight.

“Ah, ” he grunted. “I don't think I can hold back much longer; you’ll let me be selfish, won’t ya?”

With that, all sense of tenderness and gentleness was thrown out the window as he picked you up from the desk, holding you against his chest as he jackhammered into you with an impossible pace of his hips.

“Shit! Squeezing me so tight, bein’ such a good little fucktoy for me.”

The sounds of skin slapping and the collective sounds of pleasure rang heavy in the room as he used and abused your throbbing pussy, feeling his grip on you tighten when he was reaching his own high.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, gonna stuff my pussy nice and full!”

The bulge on your stomach grew even more as he came, stuffing you to the hilt with his cum and his cock. Ropes of it leaked out of your hole, even as he stayed inside you, panting and kissing at your sweaty forehead.

“Gave ‘em a good show, didn’t we, sweetheart? Say thank you, boys.”

Their thanks were mumbled out as they too had exhausted themselves just from the display of your pleasure. Tamaki’s tentacles retracted themselves from you, allowing you to stretch and return feeling to your arms and legs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart. We’re - hey, are you with me? I’m gonna clean you up and take you back home with me, okay? No more hero nonsense for you, ya hear me? All you need to do from now on is stay home and keep that pussy warm for me.”

Like hell you were going to stay for another damned second in this realm, not after being violated so horrifically.

“O-Okay.”

Play it cool, play it cool.

“Let me go to the bathroom, then.” You swallowed, hoping to fool the men. “A-And I’ll get my change of clothes and we can go home.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hobbling out of the office before making a break down the hall for the elevator. Their shouts echoed off the hallway walls as you ran with all your strength left back into the safety of the elevator, leaving them running after you before the door shut on them.

“Gluttony is a great fault; but we do not necessarily dislike a glutton. We only dislike the glutton when he becomes a gourmet-that is, we only dislike him when he not only wants the best for himself, but knows what is best for other people.”

— tagging: @sightoru @anarchicmartyr @natsuonii @whumperooni @viixens @lunar-nebula @trafalgar-temptress

#yandere fatgum x reader #yandere fatgum #fatgum x reader #fatgum #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

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chipper-smol · 4 years ago

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Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-  “You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”  No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.  “THANK YOU???”  You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood.  As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.  “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m��’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown

------------------------------- By @buglife

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg. “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris

------------------------------- By @payasita

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

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todoscript · 5 years ago

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prompt 100, todoroki, smut? first time/confession?

Always You.

Prompt | “All I know is that if you don’t tell me to stop I’m going to kiss you.”

Genre | SMUT. Fluff.

Pairing | Todoroki Shouto x Fem!Reader

Words | 5.2K+

Warnings | 18+. Smut. Oral. Penetration. Semi-public sex. Body worship. Characters are aged up. Feelings Revealed. Cuddling.

Summary | Hearing your troubled thoughts about the daunting future ahead of you, Shouto finally realizes what you meant to him all this time.

A/N | I’ve been wanting to dabble with smut, so thank you Anon for this request (also I’m assuming you requested the prompt based on this list from my past drabble event). This is my first time posting e/xplicit content so beware of all the warnings. Other than that, please let me know your thoughts!

Big thank you to @sadistiks and @shoutogepi for beta reading! I really appreciate it! <3

For the longest time, since the very first year of his high school journey to becoming a hero, Todoroki Shouto knew that you were special to him. But he didn’t realize what these emotions meant.

At first, the feelings bombarded his thoughts like a haze—a screen of smoke he couldn’t see past. He initially discerned it as an affliction down his path, blocking his sight from the light at the end of his heroic odyssey. Yet even when he waved the murk away, he felt your spirit was still somehow manifested within him.

The darkness of the dim first floor greeted him when he arrived down from the elevator, the agony of no sleep pestering mind. The light shuddered back inside as he stepped out, a ding echoing throughout the quiet atmosphere that was the dead of the night. He trekked down the halls, past the kitchen, and into the common space where only a single flicker of candlelight met his vision.

However, when he approached closer, he noticed the fire wasn’t alone. There you were, sat on the couch with warm, soothing tea nestled in your hands.

“Y/n,” he called out, and you heard his voice quickly in the silence. You turned around, knowing well it was Shouto from the distinct husk in his tone and not your teacher Aizawa coming to reproach you for still being up so late.

“Oh Shouto, couldn’t sleep either?” you asked. He replied with a nod, which compelled you to pat the cushions on the couch. He took your offer and established himself into the light, sitting next to you.

For a moment, a gentle lull instilled itself into the atmosphere. You didn’t say anything to each other, but your presences were enough to soothe the strain in your bodies and release any disturbing thoughts plaguing your minds. It was an unspoken form of affirmation between you two that Shouto was oddly fond of. When you perched your cup of tea onto the coffee table, you finally cut the silence.

“I’ve been… thinking…” Your words drifted off, and Shouto removed his sight from the candle’s dancing fire to turn to you.

“About?” He poked the remark further.

“Our class. Our journey to becoming heroes,” you answered, folding your legs into you on the couch with your chin propped against your knees. “Soon, it’ll all be over.”

Your words lingered with distraught at the thought that within a few months left in your third year, the next step in your path will open forward, leaving a curtain to draw close on the current one you’ve walked upon for nearly three years now. It was unsettling. Realizing the habits you’ve established, and the faces you’ve been accustomed to throughout each day, will suddenly vanish within the instant you approached life after high school. It scared you as much as it did the boy by your side, which to him was strange.

It shouldn’t bother him as much. He’s worked himself up since he was a child, grinding sweat and rigor through his bones to achieve this goal. He’s known across his entire life that he’d eventually end up at this point and move further toward that dream of becoming a Pro Hero. Yet when you addressed the troubling notions out loud, he grew conflicted.

“That’s right. We’ll be walking on our different paths after,” Shouto said. It was then he realized the weight amassed in that single statement. That once the year is over, you won’t be ingrained into each other’s lives anymore. He wouldn’t get to see your smiling face greeting him every morning or engage in the compelling conversations you enacted between classes. His life would be different from then on out, and the idea of the emptiness carved into it after your departure left an ache in him, making him hollow.

“A-Are you ready for it? To move on and leave everything behind?” you stuttered as if anxious to receive his answer. Deep down, you wanted to believe the boy still desired to hang onto the present and the relationships woven into this fabric of time, rather than cut them off and start a new seam. However, you could not forget about his achievements and hard work, forged through sheer will and determination. He was amongst the top in your entire year, and you couldn’t neglect that he was destined for bigger and better things after. It would be selfish of you to anchor him down with these chilling notions of yours.

Yet as Shouto thought over the questions, he envisioned his trudge down this long winding road, and then remembered everything. He remembered all the times his eyes lingered on you, and the silent, reassuring exchanges you sent each other between infinitesimal moments. He remembered all the words you spoke to him when his spirits were down, recalling whenever he willingly sought out your presence just to be near you—next to you. And he remembered the heat on his body and the confliction he dealt with whenever he craved your touch as every thought of you ignited a blaze he wished you could douse out, lest his sense of reason be incinerated.

It’s when he reached the end of this path, and the light peaked in its brightest form that he ultimately realized. The light was you. It was always you from the beginning. You were never the haze obscuring his journey, but the luminosity that guided his way, showing him to who he truly was and helping him experience all the joys on this path.

Shouto snuck a glance over to you while your eyes still lined downward at the quivering reflection of the cup of chamomile tea next to the candle. The single light source illuminated every crest beautified on your face, and he beheld the vulnerability within the moment as if you were the only thing on this earth. You made him happy and filled that void in his existence that plagued him before he arrived at U.A., like the missing piece of an incomplete puzzle. He could not fathom the world around him without you.

Shouto breathed a heavy sigh from his lips. Despite your doubt and suspense, his answer felt all too obvious to him.

“No, I don’t think I’m ready to move on just yet,” he conclusively admitted. When you perceived his answer, you loosened your legs clutched to your chest, and met his eyes with an astonished expression.

“Shouto, what are you saying?” You tried to urge him to rethink his words again, understand what they meant. Shouto, out of the majority of everyone in your year, should be more than prepared for the future to come. You’ve known the boy so closely throughout your three years together, but you couldn’t discern whatever could be troubling his mind for him to be afraid of taking that leap forward.

“There’s… something in this life that I’m not willing to let go of yet,” he cast his gaze to the small flit of the candle before shifting it to the glow of your irises. His hands reached out and entwined with yours, and the comforting touch of your warm skin gave him the fortitude to continue.

“You. I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet, Y/n,” he told you, and in the quiet, the words nearly echo through your mind. Initially, you’re speechless at the confession, but you don’t pull away. In fact, you gripped his hands tighter, like maybe the Shouto in front of you was a mirage conjured by your lack of sleep. However, he’s real. The unwavering stare, the altering sensations clasped against his calloused palms, the resolute composure on his handsome features. They were all real.

“Sh-Shouto… I—”

“I realized what you meant to me. You’re always on my mind because you’re the one thing in this life I can’t go without, the one person I won’t and can’t move on from.” Though a man of few words, he mustered the strength to utter this unyielding declaration.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n,” he imparted the words he’s been meaning to tell you—the words that finally answered the confusion he felt all this time and lifted the veil that clouded him.

Your eyes shimmered, hearing the heart behind his affirmation. Your face shifted from a mien of confliction to one of acceptance, allowing yourself to wholeheartedly welcome the emotions he finally unshackled from the depths of his soul.

“Shouto, I… I love you. I think deep down, I’ve always felt the same, I just never knew if it was right for us to be together,” you said, and it obliged him to return an enlightened look while he slowly inched closer.

“But… What does this mean from here on out?” you tried to ask through a whisper, but the ceasing proximity between you two blanks your mind to only the attention of Shouto’s face drawing near, his cold breath tickling your lips.

“I don’t know. All I know is that if you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you,” he warned yet didn’t stop to pause as his eager lips finally met yours in a searing sensation of emotions. Your mind adjusted to the caress of his lips, soon melding perfectly into his with a simple tilt of your head.

Shouto brought a hand up to hold your jaw while his other gripped underneath your thigh to adjust your position, now straddling him on the couch to allow your bodies to press together intimately. Naturally, your arms found their way around his neck while you continued mingling your lips for kiss after kiss in the empty common space, tongues dancing together. He palmed at every inch of your skin, traveling from the expanse of your naked legs to your ass, and then up to your clothed breasts. Through these motions, you grounded yourself against him and felt the growing shape beneath his sweatpants form against your covered cunt.

Your lips detached for a second. You stared into the evident lustful haze fogged in his fraternal twin irises, a playful grin on your swollen lips. “Are you sure all you want to do is kiss?”

He mirrored your smirk, hands lightly grazing your thighs teasingly. “Not even close, love.”

Hearing the endearing name caused a heat to pool in your lower-half, which continued to grow desperately hot while he embarked his mouth on a journey across the expanse of your neck. You winced at the array of fervent kisses left in his wake and noticed his hands busied themselves by rubbing circles against your torso to your hips underneath your sleeping clothes. He brushed up against your breasts, unrestricted due to an absence of a bra. His touch felt like fire, and sent you into dizzying desire. It wasn’t long until he finally tugged on the hem of your shirt. Taking the hint, you moved your arms up to allow him to pull the article of clothing off.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he muttered and wasted no time in admiring your bare upper body, tossing your shirt to the side. Though he only spoke of beautifying praises, he noticed your hesitance when you hovered your arms in front of him, cheeks growing vividly hot. At this, he took your hands in his and moved them away from obscuring the beautiful sight before his adamant, loving gaze.

“I mean it. You’re the prettiest thing on this earth, Y/n,” he assured, planting a kiss against each of your palms then settling them on his shoulders.

“And I’m going to make sure—” His words paused as his mouth attached to your skin once more.

“That your beautiful body—” He molded his lips against the underside of one mound, traveling upward.

“Knows all the things—” it eventually made its way to your nip that shivered and hardened through the exposure to the cold air, “I’ll be doing to it.”

Hearing those sensual words leave the mouth of a man usually so composed and calm made your mind scatter in a hazy daze that drenched you from your panties to the thin material of your shorts, undoubtedly wetting his sweatpants in the process.

“Mm… Ahh…” you breathed out a sigh of moans next to his ear thanks to his methodical movements, which sounded like a melody he would repeat over and over in his head for years to come. One of his large hands slipped behind you down your shorts to grip your ass, ignoring the clothing, and the other wandered to your breast that wasn’t occupied by the heated presses of his mouth. You tried to keep yourself anchored to reality and not drift off in the hot air of lust by gripping behind his head and weaving your fingers in his dual-colored tresses. Unknowingly, you pressed him further into you, and he gladly continued to indulge in his simulations.

Eventually, he parted from your body to sit back and admire his handy work, which were the marks adorned on your skin and the needy look on your face left in his wake. The glimmer of the candlelight behind you accentuated the outline of your figure, and he wanted to ingrain this pretty image into his head so badly.

“Sh-Shouto…” you whined, and his eyes perked up.

“What is it, love?” he asked, though his hands continued caressing your waist and thighs almost tauntingly, discerning the desire in your voice.

“I want…”

“Want what?” he pried on.

“You know what I want...” You bashfully eyed down his lap, fingers tracing below his shirt to the waistband of his pants, tugging.

“Hm, do I?” he jeered, and you cursed at how he dragged out your desires while falling further into his mischief from the way he resumed stroking the fever of your skin.

“Yes, you do,” you ground against his erection once more, hoping to spark a reaction. And in the end, you received one in the form of his hands gripping your hips to still your movements.

“Fuck…” His brows narrowed tightly together from the shift that caused blood to spike through his cock. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want, love—what you need,” he finally assured, softly touching your cheek with the back of his hand before planting a peck.

“But first, I want a taste. Hands on the couch,” he ordered in the husky timbre of his voice, and you didn’t disobey, lest he draw out your pleasure toward a nerve-wracking pace your body couldn’t handle anymore. You moved off his lap and crawled to the furthest end to perch yourself against the couch’s arm, knees on the cushions, and bottoms faced toward Shouto.

He awarded your immediate compliance with his hands, dragging themselves down the skin of your back and descending toward the waistband of your shorts. However, to your chagrin, he only pulled off the first layer.

His eyes beheld the color of red while he jerked the clothing down your thighs, now met and widened at the sight of your rose-hued panties. He watched as you slowly turned your head to catch his amorous expression, the man kneeled behind you from the view of your ass emphasized by the flimsy, lace fabric. He admired how you glowed from the candle, and how the moonlight filtered through the windows of the common room, cascaded on the expanse of skin the firelight couldn’t reach, while your body was arched, ready, and willing for his and his eyes only. If you were a goddess, he’d worship you and visit your shrine for the rest of his life. No, scratch that, in Shouto’s eyes, no goddess or deity could ever compare to you.

“God, how is everything about you so perfect…” he breathed out, tone laced in utter affection. Your face blossomed crimson from his praises.

The candle at his side still offered him enough light to see the evident damp spot on the crotch of your panties. When he pulled them down, your slick strung from the lacey material to your lower glistening lips, which made him release a strained groan. You helped him remove the tainted articles of clothing by lifting your knees as he slid them down your legs, letting them pile in a heap on the floor.

“Even your pussy’s pretty…” he spoke the obscene words like they were second nature, but you couldn’t conjure anything in reply except a whimper when he dragged his fingers across your sex. He smeared your wetness on his fingertips, not even offering their full length into your heat.

“F-Fuck… please,” you begged, fidgeting in your spot to usher him to do anything more to stop the ache in your body.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, leaning over you and tossing your hair to the side to smother kisses on the nape of your neck. He then trailed his mouth down your back at an agonizing pace while his fingers continued to toy with your wet cunt using touches that could never climb you to the peak of your high. Soon his lips arrived at your asscheek, melding the smooches against your flesh while he dipped toward his desired destination.

Shouto leveled his gaze to your ass, grasping it firmly in his hands and spreading you open. The scent of your arousal invaded his senses. Your exposure to his intimate eyes made your cunt twitch in front of him, slick gathering and sticking to your thighs.

“Mm, so so pretty...”

However, as much as he wanted to dive right in and drink all your nectar, your cute whimpers drove him to tease you once more, only granting you the sensations of his breath fanned on your dripping sex.

“Baby, what do you want?” You couldn’t believe he had the nerve to ask. Still, you played along, albeit not nearly as patient as the man behind you.

“Y-Your mouth,” you answered, and you felt the thin smirk on his lips when he kissed your ass one last time.

“A nice answer,” is all he muttered before his tongue finally reached your aching entrance. He licked around you, his hold on your flesh tightened to bare your pussy to his entering appendage. At the feeling of his muscle along your silky walls, your nails started digging into the arm of the green couch, voice singing out unhinged.

“Careful, love, everyone’s still sleeping. We wouldn’t want them to hear now, would we?” he warned when he detached from your sex, yet was quick to dive in again. Clasping your hand over your mouth to mute the airy noises emitting from your lips, you remembered where you were—in an open and publicly used space. It especially became very apparent when the squelch of his mouth against you reverberated in the vast, empty area due to Shouto becoming a man unshackled by his passionate desires for the woman he loved. The last thing you wanted was for the boys on the second floor to wake up. Or worse, accidentally alert Mr. Aizawa.

As Shouto continued tasting your cunt, the heat coursing through your body was slowly boiling and longing to burst, your mewls edging to heavy moans past your hand. When your pussy started grappling around his tongue, he realized you inched closer and closer to release.

“Are you going to cum for me? Soak my tongue with everything you got?”

You hissed a squeal of a yes, along with a speedy succession of nods that was enough of a response for Shouto to help you reach your high. His motions transcended faster, and he added to the revelry by inserting a long finger into you, easily touching the particular spongy area inside that made you quiver. The overflowing sensations hollowed the sounds in your throat to mere hoarse throes of pleasure. His bind on your flesh grew firmer, like his feast on your cunt was the ambrosia he needed to revitalize his body.

“Ah, f-fuck Shouto, I’m— I’m—”

“Do it, baby. Cum all over my face.”

The weighty lust in his words was the last fuel you needed to attain your peak. At last, your sex clenched across Shouto’s tongue, covering his mouth in your juices as your screams were suppressed against the couch arm you buried your face into, knowing your hand was too weak of a barrier to contain your loud, wanton cries. With you soon becoming limp due to the mind-blowing orgasm that coursed your body, you braced yourself on the couch’s arm. Turning your head, you observed the glistened sheen covering the lower half of Shouto’s face that he earnestly licked and then rubbed against his forearm. The heady sight resulted in your body growing hot and bothered all over again.

“Mm, you taste so delicious, love,” he told you before he eased forward across your form and captured your mouth for another searing kiss that allowed you to taste your flavor on his tongue. Shouto’s arms readily wove around your naked body, positioning you to lay comfortably flat beneath him on the couch while never leaving the fervid lip-lock. You hung an arm over his back, and a hand settled into his hair.

“Ah.. wait,” you managed to voice between the wistful union of your tongues, letting Shouto lean his forehead against yours to peer into your eyes.

“What is it?”

“You’ve been doing all the work tonight. The least I should do to repay you is give you some pleasure, right?” you said, attempting to reach lower toward the bulge keen on his sweats. Yet Shouto halted you with a quick hand on your wrist.

“It’s alright, Y/n. I want to use this night to appreciate and love you,” he stated, bringing your hand to his lips as his gaze never moved from yours. “And besides, we can do that next time.”

Next time? You wordlessly repeated the phrase, mind trying to fathom what this passionate night would spark in the aftermath for you two.

Even with everything ahead of him, he still desired to be with you—to love and cherish you. Now that you’ve both admitted to the feelings concealed within yourselves for so long, there wasn’t any way Shouto could just let you go. One way or another, he’d carve another path down his odyssey where you two would walk together, and he could forever bask in your light.

But for now, he needed to tend to you and satiate his lust that has thoroughly built up throughout the heaty progression of the night, his cock painfully taut in the bounds of his clothing. At last, he granted his body the small bit of freedom it craved by removing his shirt and sweatpants, leaving his skin bare to the air like yours. Raking your eyes over his form scrupulously, you bit into your lower lip at the expanse of firm muscle lining every inch of his frame. The light beside you seemed only to enhance every marbled crest delved across his features. Those three years of fierce hero training committed wonders on his body, and you were eager to put your hands all over him.

However, your mind was blanketed into a haze when he pulled down his briefs—soiled by a blotch of his precum—allotting you with an unhindered view of his cock standing to attention. Shouto lowly chuckled, noticing the speechless expression taking over your face. His hand wholly stroked his stout manhood.

“Like what you see, baby?”

Your response is reduced to a quick nod, still dumbstruck by the length of his dick and generous girth when knowing he was soon to be inside you in mere moments. Shouto took his position in front of you again. He spread you out with as much room as the green couch of the common room could offer you two. You kept resonating out whimpers from your lips, and he reveled in those sounds while preparing to align himself to your entrance, his eyes fogged with unrivaled yearning for you. To say he’s dreamt of this day—where you’re hot, needy, and naked in the wake of his lustful desires—would be an understatement. No kind of imagination could beat the real thing, with the genuine noises you produced and the way your slick felt against the head of cock as he slowly pushed himself forward. Watching each inch of his dick gradually slide inside and experiencing the tightness of him and his love coming together did many things to him. The sensation was beyond incredible.

“Mm! Fuck!” you cried out in a whisper of a yell, immediately anchoring yourself by wrapping your arms around him when he lowered his upper-body to you. The stretch of his girth induced a pleasurable burn in your stomach that threatened to seize your entire being.

“Argh… Love, I’m right here— Fuck, you’re so tight—” he cursed at your warmth firmly enveloping his cock, struggling not to let the heat of the moment devour his reasoning and just plow away at your body. No, he needed to go slow and not hurt you, let you adjust to his size. Thankfully the wetness simulated when he ate you out aided the process, and soon his entire length was sheathed inside you.

You laid there trembling over the deep sensation, but the pain managed to diffuse quickly. “I-It’s OK… I’m alright now,” you murmured to him, the circles he rubbed into your skin soothing a bit of the tension harrowed in your body. You tilted your head so your lips were sheer centimeters from his ear, whispering out in a soft, heady tone that was breaking his rationale.

“Please fuck me.”

That was all he needed to begin his hard succession of thrusts. His cock felt along all the crevices of your walls. He grunted out praises and affections for you in between each drive into your core. Fuck, every part of you was like heaven and he wanted—no—needed to indulge in all you could give him. You struggled to find your words, voice hoarse and diminished to frail moans that he heard every trace of from the proximity between you, practically instilling the harmonies into his mind.

“I love you, Y/n, fuck I love you so much.” His bewitching utterances spilled from his lips without a second thought for all he’s thinking about is you.

“You were always the light that— ah— guided me... Always the one I could come to…” His thrusts continued relentlessly even as he bent toward your neck to meld his mouth on it for a second. “You were always the one, Y/n. It was always you.”

At all his love rained down upon you, your grip on his body grew tighter while you attempted to muster out some coherent words, despite each deep impulse of his cock making you envision stars.

“Mm, ah, l-love you too— Mmph—” You cut off with a scream that was luckily muted by Shouto joining his mouth to yours the moment he reached your pleasurable spongy area again. He continued his onslaught in that spot, knowing it was the erogenous zone in your body that made you writhe and shriek for him. White began to shroud your sight every time he pounded there. It wouldn’t be long until the simmer you built to a boil would be ready to burst again, your pussy starting to clench around his length desperately.

“Shouto, I’m gonna c-cum..!”

“Fuck, me too,” he replied to your frantic pleas and savored the sting of your nails raked down his back, tightening his hold on your spread legs. “Together, baby. Cum with me.”

With you both teetered toward the edge of release, he began pistoning his hips forward at an unbridled pace, the smack of your skins echoing so vividly in the space. Spit gathered in the back of your throat as Shouto did his very best to snatch every mewl and moan resounding from your lips. The noises vibrated across his tongue while he groaned back, thrusting forward in each succession. Eventually, the final scream tore from your throat, ripping into his mouth. Your body convulsed in a fit of overwhelming pleasure across every nerve and your intense orgasm was the catalyst he needed to cum.

In a single deep, quick thrust following your peak, his climax surged through him, and he came undone. A low grunt reverberated in him as he buried himself in you and coated your walls in hot spurts of white, the lip-lock remaining fervent throughout his orgasm and his hand seeking yours at the last minute to twine together in love and passion.

Through the whirlwind of your fucking, the candle on the coffee table eventually blew itself out while you both came down from your highs with ragged breaths and sweaty bodies. Shouto lovingly kissed your temple, caressing down your sides in calming motions. You returned the gesture by pecking his chest and rubbing the muscles of his broad back. The two of you simply laid there, tangled together, basked in the glow from the intensity, with nothing but the glimmering moonlight descending your naked bodies.

“Mm, Shouto?” your voice is only a hushed murmur in the tranquil atmosphere.

“What is it, love?” His caring touch did not cease when he whispered a question back, eyes pinpointing your own despite the darkness.

“As much as I just want to lay here and cuddle with you, we can’t stay here mister,” you admonished, thankful that you recalled where you were before you ended up drifting off into sleep on this couch. It would be an absolute nightmare had you awoke the next morning from the screams of your classmates at the sight of you both naked.

He let out a deep chuckle, likely conjuring the same thought as you though not acting nearly as frantic as he should be. He lifted his upper body off the cushions. “Shall we go to my room then?”

You nodded. At that you both gathered your clothes that were thrown carelessly in heaps on the floor and got dressed. You made sure no suspicious traces of you remained, then silently took to the elevators to ascend to the fifth floor.

It’s in the confines of Shouto’s room that you reunited your bodies again underneath the comfortable blankets of his futon. His left side provided just the right amount of warmth to lull your nerves. You relished in his particular musky scent with him so close and being surrounded by all his familiarities, cuddling into him.

Perceiving the rhythm of your even breaths against him imbued Shouto with a sense of peace. He couldn’t help but pull you toward him to softly kiss your forehead. At the tickling sensation, you giggled and exchanged a delicate kiss of your own on his jawline. For a brief period of time, that calming silence you two were far too familiar with enveloped the mood as you wordlessly traded placid touches across each other’s arms and backs. Ultimately, the quiet is interrupted when you speak up.

“Are you.. still scared about the future?” You brought back the query that set off the steamy chain of events. Shouto didn’t speak for a moment, inhaling a breath until you indicated his resolution through his hold on you growing stronger.

“No. No, I’m not scared,” he told you, continuing without a single hint of uncertainty in his voice, “Because even when we move onto the future, we’ll find each other again. You’re my light, Y/n, and I’ll always come back to you.”

At his conviction, you finally let the weight of those harrowing notions lift themselves from your body that night, letting you sleep soundlessly in the arms of the man you loved.

3K notes · View notes

hisredhysteria · 3 years ago

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Hello dear (♡˙︶˙♡)

Im really busy at the moment I'm not able to write something and your writing always cheers me up <3

I actually have a request which is really platonic. We all know Swindler isn't necessarily a bad person because she got dragged in it by "accident". May I request a small scenario or headcanons about swindler meeting her best friend after she became an akudama and cutthroats reaction to a civilian talking to his red halo?

Thank you 🍈💚

Note: AWW OF COURSE YOU CAN-! I did sort of tailor this to my own perception so it would be easier to write...so in this Swindler's best friend was her friend even before the mission! I may write a scenario in the future where she meets an all new person that she befriends after her Akudama era though since I do really love that idea...!

I made Swindlers headcanon like scenarios & Cutthroat's a short, full written scenario—

Swindler Meeting Her Best Friend Again Post Criminal Era....

She likely knew you prior to getting strapped into a moving circus tent with 6 other clowns—

To note, Swindler is in no way ashamed to admit that she's an Akudama now, but with that being said, she would probably try her hardest to leave the past behind. Nothing would be worse to her than accidentally roping another person into the dangerous schemes of other Akudama...at least from personal experience—

In a sense, this is to protect you as her friend.

That's not to say she doesn’t miss her past life because she misses you more than anything. She'd probably love to spew nonsense for hours about everything that's happened to her with you—

Because you were her best friend, Swindler is almost always wondering what you would do in any situation that is thrown at her. During and after the mission. Eventually this leads her to spiral and wonder how you'd react to meeting her now that she's in some way a bit of a changed person... you'd accept her no matter what she's done, right...? Please say you do..

Not void of her own flaws, she nearly caves and finds a way to seek communication with you more than once. She's probably staking out where she knows you two often went for food together. You know... perhaps you've been doing the same and luck will allow you two to cross paths again..

Although she's careful about it, seeing that she's still a wanted criminal. As such, her hopes of meeting you again grow to be quite low as time passes.

A meeting happens when she least expects it though, a coincidence you could say-!

She finds herself to have dropped a coin from one of her pockets.....all while coming across a box of stray kittens she plans to take home—perfect.

Hearing the coin clink as it drops, she does what any sane person might do by walking away-! Dropped change is bad luck unless she's looking to meet 6 more clowns...

Her heart drops from her chest as she hears your familiar voice call out to her that she's dropped her coin however....great..! Now she has to take it doesn't she..?

Her first reaction is to deepen her own voice as she talks, which only makes her all that much more suspicious..

Swindler first tries to get you to put the coin in her backpack yourself so that you two won’t have to exchange glances for a prolonged period of time.

Awkwardly agreeing, you eventually make a comment about how your old best friend used to love cats....and how taking home a box of stray kittens is exactly something she would do.

At this point, Swindler's dying not to cave, even though she’s been waiting for a moment like this to happen. Maybe dropped change doesn't always have to be bad luck...the first time should have proved that at least a tinge of hope can spark from it-!

When you're just about to walk off for good and Swindler thinks she's in the clear... She makes a last minute decision to call back out and take her chance, asking for your help to get the kittens back to her place.

You turn back around with a smile, saying that you were waiting for her to ask something like that. Apparently Swindlers half-hearted attempts at hiding her identity had gone to no avail anyways... surprisingly so given her name is Swindler now.... perhaps you have a gift to see past her swindling?

...You hadn't been following her into the alleyway though right...? Did you set this trap because you knew she'd pick up the box of kittens..?

As the two of you walk back to Swindler's place with the box of crying kittens, you have a long, long conversation about what Swindlers been up to and where she’s been...

Oh! And the conversation couldn’t have been complete without mentioning how absolutely stunning she looks with short hair!

Cutthroat's reaction to a civilian talking to the red halo

It hadn't previously been there, so when you looked up at the peculiar red ring light shining atop your head, you were alarmed to say the very least.

"W-What is that...!?" You asked, becoming dizzy from how far your head was tilting. Back and forth, side to side, the circular ring didn't attempt to budge. Odd, you took a large step forward and glanced up again. "If you're trying to be my friend, maybe ask for my name first...?" Teasing the cruel circle as it did to you, this situation could only become more strange the longer you stood in that spot. With the idea of a solution finally popping into mind, you knew it was time to outrun the darned thing. Exhilarating to race against your new archenemy, the moment you suddenly began to sprint, someone yelled after you in a hurried plea.

"Wait, wait...!! Where are you going without me..!?"

Again, your day was interrupted by yet another distraction. You weren't giving out handouts, and if this man wanted anything to do with you, he'd be able to collect samples of your shoe prints later.

"I'm in kind of a hurry..." You explained, fighting the urge to simply tell him you already go everywhere without him, so now would really be no different. His eyes focused above your head as he finally started to catch up however, this was when you started to finally clue in on something.

"You see it too, don't you? How embarrassing..." You sighed. "I thought maybe I was dreaming, but..-" Whispering so the ring above you couldn't hear, your hand cupped the side of your mouth like it was a secret to tell this to him.

"It won't stop following me..."

Blinking, the man was puzzled about something for a moment. As if he wanted to gain your confirmation, or maybe win brownie points, he mirrored you by whispering back.

"You mean the pretty red halo...?"

"Halo...? ..Is that what you call it? But it's red." Still whispering, you bit your lip at his suddenly unaware and noisy response.

"Ooh, I get it! So you can see it too...!" Short-lived was his excitement as for a second again, the reality sinking in provoked thought in his eyes. He knew this wasn't normal, though couldn't pinpoint exactly why it happened. "But no one else has ever been able to see it before.. That's strange." He assessed aloud for himself.

Why exactly had you been able to see it...? And why were you whispering like it could hear you..?

Nonetheless, the stranger must not have cared all too badly because he was quick to flash a happy smile once more.

"That must mean you're special..!" Left his lips in a hum. "You're mine now and I won't let you leave my side. I can't wait for you to see it grow~! ..Hm...I wonder if this will change anything when I kill you..."

Special...? Yours!? ...Kill!?!

Those were the only words that really clicked. You didn't quite like the sound of it, at least, not coming from someone who implied they murdered people in their free time. "Uhh, I've got something in the oven at home....maybe we can talk about this later so my house doesn't burn down..." The man didn't seem too bright either way, so a simple lie was sure to do the trick. You must have thought you really did something though, didn't you? Well if so, you wouldn't think that for very long.

"A welcome gift from my new angel...? You put marshmallows in the oven for me already? I'm cominggg~! Wait—! No no no, not again, don't go!"

First the red halo wouldn't stop chasing you, and along with it tagged its partner in crime.

#akudama drive #akudama drive headcanons #I just realized I have a 10-15 page paper due Monday...#and I only have the topic #whoops....#maybe I'll do it...#maybe....#I told my brother I'd rather die than do it and he told me thats always an option...—#so if y'all don't hear from me...#no I'm kidding again #I might not get to requests as fast for the next two weeks...I have some in my drafts that I am working on #but I also have classwork to be doing #so if you see me posting its prewritten or a side piece

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dreamologisth2o · 4 years ago

Text

My Thoughts on c!DreamXD

So Ruby’s recent analysis on the different interpretations of c!Dream has me thinking about my own interpretation of c!DreamXD because I feel like it’s fairly different from other people’s.

To start out with, most of what I’ve seen aren’t actually analysis posts. The one off character from 3-4 wacky streams doesn’t have much analysis going on for him, who would’ve guessed? But based on a lot of art and headcanon posts I’ve seen around the c!Dream apologists circle most people believe him to be either full on ancient eldritch god or someone who seeks acceptance through any means necessary and is similar to c!Slime, who’s easily manipulated. Everyone agrees he’s a c!George simp.

Outside the c!Dream apologist circles, of which I have not seen many of and mostly heard second hand, people believe he’s manipulated and cursed c!George into an everlasting contract of being his friend, and that the actions he takes during c!George’s dream are done out of malice and not ignorance.

From here on out I’m only ever referring to the characters and not the content creators unless specified.

First things first: DreamXD has agency. He has things he’s ok with and things he’s not ok with. He has boundaries and he sets those boundaries and when someone infringes upon them he’s not afraid of pushing back or punishing them for said infringement. Yes, George eventually convinced DreamXD to give him netherite armor in exchange for his friendship at the end of his stream. No, DreamXD did not immediately give into George’s demands. In fact he argues against it, multiple times. Constantly pointing out how George only wanted him around for “stuff” and refusing until it seemed to be the only thing he could do that would convince George to stay. That’s nothing like Slime, who pretty much does whatever anyone else asks him to do.

The way I’ve seen people treat Slime is very similar to the way they treat DreamXD, and that’s not surprising, because both are characters who don’t know much about how humans act and how they work nor how to fit into “human society”. BUT the big difference between the two is that DreamXD has agency while Slime does not. I don’t know if it’s because of their apparent age or because of their origins, but just because DreamXD doesn’t know how “normal human society” works doesn’t mean he has the mentality of a toddler or a new born baby. He’s ignorant, not naïve. He knows when he’s being used and he knows it’s not something he likes.

I also do not believe he is controlled by the book. Quite frankly that entire scene to me felt more like DreamXD sensed a disturbance and much like when Techno and Phil started messing with the portal room, had simply gone and investigated. He was not required to grant them a wish, it was Techno who asked if he could, which he then offered them one. When they try to summon him again, he doesn’t show up, further proof that the book, while having caught his interest, doesn’t actually have any real hold/power over him. Also, he sounded kinda annoyed in the chat log, speaking in short sentences and single word answers.

Another example of DreamXD refusing to be used for items is when Foolish foolishly (haha) asks him for another shulker box. To which he retaliates by summoning lighting on him, multiple times, until Foolish takes back his request.

That said, DeramXD is perfectly fine with giving things away if it’s of his own volition and not because someone demands it of him. When Techno asks if he grants wishes, DreamXD offers them 1 when he could’ve just said no. When Foolish and Bad are having another territory dispute, DreamXD comes by and places heads of the various server members for them. He’s also given George diamonds of his own volition before as well. He’s not opposed to doing things for someone or giving them stuff, it’s only when people try to use him for things (cough cough George) does he get defensive and upset.

Second: DreamXD is not inherently malicious. When he does something bad, he doesn’t do it to be mean or to hurt them. He does it because he thinks it’d be funny, get a laugh out of George, or because he doesn’t recognize that sending someone to hell and back isn’t nice. (it was pretty funny though XD)

What he considers “good” or “bad” or acceptable is very different from “normal” and so most of his actions are born from ignorance of what “normal” is, ignorance he tries to correct by learning from George, the one person he’s been seen talking to outside chat. Which, George isn’t a good teacher, at all, but I’m not here to talk about that.

And more recently, when we see him cause mild chaos with Bad and Foolish, he ultimately leaves things back to the way he found them in. Returning L’Sandburg back to where it was, teleporting Foolish out of the void, showering both Bad and Foolish in EXP bottles to heal their armor and giving them some extra food to help them recover health after smiting them a few dozen times. (he also placed water on the TNT Skeppy lights in Foolish’s summer home at the same time as Bad, to prevent the explosion from blowing the place up.)

Third: There is a non-zero chance that DeramXD is whatever it is the dreamon hunters split from Dream during that first dreamon hunter stream, and not an ancient all powerful god of the server. (Though the members of the server certainly believe him to be which is what I personally believe led to DreamXD calling himself “god”. Because everyone else calls him that) If he’s a god, which considering his abilities he can certainly be counted as one, then he isn’t old, and is in fact quite new.

DreamXD explicitly states "I’m not Dream! ...I... am not Dream, sort of. I’m a part of him.” (Which means Dream came first!) He has also mentioned having been hunted at one point in the past (either as Dream during manhunts or because of the dreamon hunters, we don’t know), and has spoken in Dream’s voice once before switching back and saying “mm, he’s gone.”

Lastly: and, again this is just my personal thoughts on DreamXD and something I find interesting/funny about the fandom’s response but. George and Techno both say DreamXD looks like Dream. Foolish has mistaken Dream’s head for DreamXD before. By all means and canon evidence, DreamXD should look basically identical to Dream. Does this stop the fandom from going wild with his design? Nope. In fact, it’s so wild I have a hard time believing that this 23ft tall eldritch abomination with too many eyes, multiple floating hands, rings of halos around his (usually just an orb) head, twenty pairs of wings and long flowing robes looks anything like this scruffy, homeless, teletubby in a mask. Much less close enough that George keeps accidentally or on purpose mistaking him for Dream.

Like, all these designs are amazing and super duper cool looking and extraordinarily creative but it’s not accurate to canon at all and the spiderman meme makes much less sense when neither of the “spidermen” looks anything like the other. (Unless of course, everyone on the dsmp is mask blind and think anyone with a white mask looks like Dream because they can’t see past that and--)

ANYWAYS, this concludes some of my thoughts on DreamXD. I certainly have more but this has gotten long and kinda rambly. If you’ve gotten this far, then thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

#c!DreamXD #long post #my rambles #my thoughts #I have #so many thoughts on c!DreamXD and c!George's relationship #it's so messed up man #and not just the part where c!George is locked into an everlasting contract with c!DreamXD #for some netherite armor and tools #because c!George is pretty messed up too #and the way he so casually manipulates/tries to convince c!DreamXD into giving him things #even though c!DreamXD has already said/proven multiple times that he doesn't like that #kinda reminds me of beeduo's dynamic #where it looks sweet on the outside #but there are definitely unhealthy undertones when you examine certain aspects of their relationship more closely

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kojinnie · 4 years ago

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tis is ranon! i wanna try the twisted match-up eventho it'll probably hurts. my worst traits would be

1. Not knowing myself well enough, having to ask others how i actually am from their eyes instead of looking through my own lense because I care of other's judgement better than mine.

2. I suck at handling compliment. Everytime anybody says anything good about me, I always get defensive by saying no, change the topic of the conversation, or saying "thank you, but [insert why i don't deserve compliment]"

3. Similar to the 2nd one, I have horrible horrible self esteem. I never really look at myself in a good light, I think I am horrible. Sometimes I feel like "im the worst" yet some of the times I feel like "woah I'm a queen". Even worse, sometimes I don't have the motivation to better myself in order to raise my self esteem.

My favourite(s) would be reiner and jean, you can choose the one with the worst(or whoever you prefer) compatibility with my traits. tears up already as I slip 1 dollar to your hand, whispering happy ending please..

Pairing: Jean x Reader

Summary: You accidentally meet Jean, your high school sweetheart, thirteen years later. While he has turned into a successful man whose face you'd see on TV a lot, you think of your life and what could have been with him, if only...

Tags: Angst/Fluff, coming of age, slice of life

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: Oh Ranon my sweet child, hereby I present to thee... hopefully an antidote to the despair Yams had given us with 138. Hope you like it love!

Song mentioned: Linger by The Cranberries

"It's nice to see a familiar face 'round here."

There was no word that could describe the feelings you had upon hearing that voice. A voice that was once the first sound you hear in the morning and the one you say goodbye to before falling asleep. A voice that you had not heard for what felt like forever.

You didn't have to turn around to tell who it was, "Jean?"

The two of you erupted in laughter, both surprised by the mere coincidence of meeting each other at this old and ran-down department store, on the outskirt of the town you both grew up in.

Jean was quick to pull you into a big embrace that you gladly came into. A familiar piece of warmth was his hug, and yet it had struck you as odd that it did not feel foreign at the closest, although it had been years since the last time you met him.

Jean had grown very tall. There was no longer his signature undercut as he had let his hairs to grow past his ear. His chiseled jaw hid beneath dark brown beard he now had. You pretended to check him out and be shocked with the view, "You really grew! Like grew, GREW!" as if you hadn't seen him on the news station or the daily mail. As if you didn't follow his Instagram with your second account. As if you never thought of him at all.

He held your shoulder and pulled away to look at you, "Thirteen years and you don't look any different."

Your face grew hot and the compliment sent an uncanny discomfort to your guts, "Ah the lighting sucks here - to my advantage, fortunately."

There was a disapproving look in Jean's eyes for a passing moment before he carried on with the conversation. He didn't expect to see you at the old department store the two of you used to roam in after school, he said. Neither did you to ever meet him again, especially here. A place so awfully ordinary for someone who had grown to be the best version of himself. Jean had finally achieved his dream to be a household name in the country as one of the rising young attorneys.

The celebrity status he had achieved, all the actresses and models he had dated - it all inflicted you with some kind of inexplicable pain. One that made you feel worthless, to say the least. Someone who used to be so close to your heart, had grown so magnificently, leaving you with the painful fate of being ordinary. Yet, still your face lit up in distant pride each time a mention of Jean’s name surfaced, be it from the passing conversation your friend had, or to see it announced by the news anchor for some big public case he was working on.

Jean said that he returned home for a funeral. His uncle died, and he needed a spare sandal. He didn't know any other store, as the area both of you grew up in had changed a lot. Leaving this old department store the only place he could remember.

You passed your condolence but he was more curious with what you were up to. You chuckled because he seemed so serious when he asked, "Didn't you move out to the city? Why the hell are you coming back?" as if the misplacement of seeing someone so glitzy in this boring, dilapidated town didn't apply to him.

So you answered, and Jean turned silent for a moment. He tilted his head downward, and you noticed that he was the same person with the same mannerism. Although he was no longer the 17-year-old boy who used to get all ruffed up in school fight, trying to defend you from some stupid jocks; nor was he still the tall, lanky kid from your Home Economics class that you gave your first kiss to.

Your mind couldn’t help but to race to all the what-ifs, and the presence of Jean before your eyes right now only made the wonderings more palpable.

Jean smiled faintly to your answer, “Congratulations,” he still made his way to pat the side of your head, something he used to do every time, “big step, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s scary.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know from school?” Jean said, faking the enthusiasm in his tone, but you didn’t notice. Because in your mind, it would be an absurd idea to think that you would still have the tiniest bit of effect on Jean, for he had outgrown all the memories he ever had with you.

“No, no,” you tried to mask the bitterness that suddenly emerged on the back of your tongue, “we met at work. He’s a great guy.”

Indeed, he was. The reason why you returned home was because you were getting married, and your fiancée wanted to be close with your family, for he didn’t have one growing up. He was an exceptional man, he had this magnetism in him, with the way he perceived things, to the abiding tenacity he had in him.

Your fiancée was a man you knew you could lean on in the eye of adversity. That’s why you agreed to marry him. But then again, there was always a void inside your heart that had no resolve to it for so many years. Your fiancée was your foundation, and yet, perhaps selfishly, you still yearned for the childish laughter and the irreplaceable feeling of freedom you once had with the man standing tall before you. Whose glance never failed to make you feel the most at ease with.

“He must be a pretty great guy to get you,” Jean’s faint smile grew into a grin, he was trying to down play the commotion he started to feel within his chest, “what’s his name? So, I can picture him.”

You laughed, because it was only natural for you to do so in the presence of the first guy you had fallen for, the first guy to ever told you how pretty you were and how all your imperfections never mattered to him, the first one to bring your teary face into his embrace after a gruesome day, before saying, ‘I never thought it’s possible. But, crazy, seeing you cry hurts me too.’

However, you knew, that all those memories had passed by and you were happy with where you were now. “Reiner,” you smiled at the mention of his name, “my fiancée’s name is Reiner Braun. He’s… amazing.”

“Wow. Tough name. Probably someone I’d stay clear from in high school.”

Both of you laughed, and the two of you continued to talk, as you walked him through the desolated alleys to find the sandal that he wanted to buy, and Jean walking you to the towel aisle that you had meant to buy one for Reiner, only to find out that they had stopped selling towels since long time ago. The laughter and reminiscing persisted until the cashier row when Jean heard your stomach grumble. Both of you exchanged glances and broke into yet another laughter.

“Salerno’s?” Jean said, suggesting the pizza place off the highway, where you had spent so many dates with him back then.

“How could I ever say no to that?”

“Settled, then. Did you drive here?” Jean’s eyes gazed afar to the parking lot, strangely looking for the old car you used to drive back in school, before realizing that thirteen years had passed and there was no chance that sickly car could ever survive the time.

“No, actually Reiner dropped me and—” As if staged by the universe, your phone rung and Reiner was calling, “—right in time, it’s him!”

You walked away from Jean for a moment as he looked for his car key inside jacket. Across the line, Reiner was gruntling, his voice was hazy, “Babe—”

“Reiner, I bumped into an old friend!” there was a sing-songy tone in your words. Through the phone, Reiner chuckled, picking up the excitement in your voice, even though it was getting more apparent that Reiner was drowsy, “Anyway babe, can you get an Uber? I took the cough syrup your mum gave me, and now I’m sleepy as fuck. ‘Fraid I won’t be able to drive.”

You turned to Jean and saw him jingling his car key at you, before returning back to Reiner on the phone, “Rei, I think my friend can drive me home. I’ll be stopping at Salerno’s, do you want anything? The calzone maybe?”

Reiner yawned, “That sounds nice but—” yet another yawn, “I’m gonna pass out. Come home soon, okay? Tuck me in.”

You cackled at the buff man whining before you said goodbye and followed Jean into his car.

The trip to Salerno’s was nourishing with memories. The poplar trees along the avenue had been replaced by lines of billboards – from advertisement of real estate agent to divorce attorney, they all reminded you of how much the town had changed. Yet the sense of comfort you shared with Jean as you joked about all of the absurd things you saw along the way, had not changed at all.

If for one second you forgot that you were driving in Jean’s expensive car, and that you imagined he was wearing a shabby soccer jersey instead of a tailored-fit shirt – if you closed your eyes and thought that thirteen years hadn’t gone by between the two of you, it almost felt like you rode a time machine to a time when Jean was yours and you were his. And something about the thought of it just broke your heart.

When Jean pulled over at Salerno’s and found out that it’s past the time for dine-in, the two of you decided to eat at his car instead. Jean didn’t even ask what you want and he returned with exactly what you had in mind, the classic calzone, something you always used to have. He remembered.

The two of you laughed, bantered and joked at each other. It felt almost as if no distance had ever been laid out between the two of you, like you hadn’t lived an entirely different life, like he was the same person after all. He hadn’t once made you self-conscious like you thought you would, considering the amount of success he had attained for himself. You felt bad for accusing Jean of the worst, when all it was just a projection of your own insecurity.

“So, you’re getting married on the 15th, and your annoying aunt is not invited?”

“Yeah, thank God for the pandemic somehow. Legit excuse, when all I wanted was not to have her talk shit about Reiner on my wedding day,” you munched through your calzone, talking mindlessly, “as for you, sir, you’re invited. That’s a no-brainer. Hereby I invite thee to my humble dwelling. Bring your model girlfriend, please, so I can brag to my cousins.”

His grin subsided into a weak smile and then into nothing at all, as he sipped on his coke. Suddenly awkward silence loomed within the small space of his car.

“Jean,” you shifted in your seat as the guilt grew on you, realizing the error in your judgment, “sorry I was being presumptuous.”

“No worries, it wasn’t serious. None of it ever was.”

You nodded, engulfed in your own guilt for bringing a bad topic up. The silence let the radio’s murmur to become noticeable, and an old song had just been played through the local radio, a tune that you used to listen with him on the back of your old creaking car after a make-out session filled with enraging teenage hormones.

And I’m in so deep~

You know I’m such a fool for you~

You got me wrapped around your finger I—

Do you have to let it linger?

You sighed and finally looked at Jean with his head hanging low, “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Eventually.” Jean answered nonchalantly, “Not even sure about the whole relationship thingy.”

“Oh.” An acknowledgment you voiced, before succumbing to yet another silence.

Jean called your name softly and when you turned to face him, he was looking at you. Even in the darkness of the parking lot, you could see his honey eyes gleamed in a look that was so familiar to you—a look of disappointment, “Tell me, how could you never end up working where you’ve always wanted to be?”

You were pulled even deeper into your silence as you looked away. Suddenly a hot rash of sadness started to swallow you whole, “I—”

You tried to voice out a tangible reason, but you had realized that all of it was your own doing. Your insecurity, your self-consciousness, the thought that you were never good enough for the thing you once wanted so bad; all of it led to a life unlived, and to have someone finally putting you in your place was embarrassing, if not painful, “—wasn’t sure if I really wanted it and—”

“—wasn’t sure if I was good enough to pass the test.”

“So, after college, you never ended up applying there? Not even a try?”

You shook your head embarrassed, looking down at your shoes.

Jean sighed and laid his food on the dashboard, before reaching for your right hand and held it warmly into his grasp. He called your name which propelled you to look back at him, “Weren’t you the one who talked me into getting into law school? Even when I thought it was impossible? Weren’t you the one who wrote on my yearbook to-my-future-attorney when everyone was convinced that I’d end up working a mediocre office job? Or a mechanic in my Dad’s shop?”

Jean carried on, “I just… I just don’t understand. How could you have so much conviction for other people but—but yourself?”

You passed a grim smile, as vulnerability started to catch up with you, “Nevermind Jean, it’s passed. I am where I am now.”

“But, wasn’t it your dream?” Jean grew antsy on his seat, it was obvious that he truly didn’t understand, “The pages and pages and pages of diary you wrote about wanting to work there? What happened?”

You sighed, running out of words to say, until you caved in, “Maybe I never knew what I truly wanted.”

“Is that why?” Jean shot another look at you, there was an intensity in his eyes that you had never seen before. There you wondered what had happened to Jean’s life in all those years passed at your absence, had he led a difficult life before getting the success he was enjoying now? “Is that why you left me—because you didn’t know what you truly want?”

Jean understood the consequence of his action, he was a well-accomplished attorney after all. He also understood the vivid pain painted all over your face, but he was taking his shot. Years of wondering where had you gone, what kind of live had you lived – you never ceased to haunt him, all the what-ifs with you he always thought about whenever he broke off yet another meaningless relationship with yet another woman he’d never cared for in his life. Over the years, he’d taken a close look at you. He’d find you on the internet, he’d asked about you to friends of a friend that was still in touch with you, he’d ‘accidentally’ found your legal documents just to see that you had gotten your college degree one year earlier than him. He didn’t know why the thought of you lingered, you just did. Arriving into his dreams where he was seventeen again and unassuming, only for him to wake up disappointed at seeing a woman that wasn’t you in his bed.

For the longest time, Jean had fended for himself to be where he’s now. When survival had finally bore fruits, what else could there be for him? Still, he felt lonely in the embrace of another woman, still he felt the void persisted even if he spent his money on things he didn’t need. Jean never thought, that after years of dreaming to be the person he’s now, all he yearned for was to have a piece of simple, ordinary and innocent happiness he once had with you.

You were, after all, the only thing that could remind him of the innocence Jean had lost after years of grueling work as an attorney—seeing how corrupt and insidious men can be. So, when his wearied eyes landed on the sight of you this evening, in the alley of that long-forgotten Department Store, Jean had no choice but to finally face his haunting.

“Jean, it’s a long time ago,” you smile, cupping his hand with your free hand, “besides, I’m no longer your type, right?” A grin, a playful grin, painfully fabricated and Jean saw right through it.

You could feel the air had gotten thick in his car, and you shifted closer to the door. Jean let go of your hand as he moved closer to you, running his long fingers through your hair. His voice had gotten deep and you could sense a hint of pain in his words, “Maybe I never had a type.”

He dragged his gaze all over your face; your eyes, your nose, your lips – the way he used to reassure that you were so beautiful in his eyes despite the self-hate you inflicted upon yourself, “Maybe all I ever wanted was you and all I ever did with those girls was to try finding you in them,” he forced a smile, so stale, so painful, “to no avail.”

You could feel the air into your lung was compromised as you battled the tears, “Jean…”

“Out of so many things that I have been brave for, I was never brave enough for one thing that I needed the most: to tell you that it’s always been you,” Jean slithered his hands through your waist and pulled you into his embrace. He laid his head, heavy with loneliness and exhaustion on to the nook of your shoulder. For lack of better term, Jean was finally back home, as he muttered, letting go of all his inhibitions, “Baby, it’s always been you. It’s always been you.”

Your whole body was weak with emotions. The thoughts, the persistent ones – the what-ifs you could have had with Jean, the life you could have lived and the dream that could have been fulfilled. Without your permission, the tears fell to your dismay as you thought of one last thing remaining in your heart: Reiner. The way he smiled and listened all through your nightly despairs, caressing you close until you fell asleep, exhausted with tears dried up all over your face. The way Reiner whispered on to your ear, amidst your drowsiness, that he loved you and that he promised to make you whole, to fill the void you had always feared for. All the little things he had done without you asking, or the way he loved your family as if they were his own.

You cursed yourself for being surprised at how much you realized that you truly loved Reiner, even when you were in the embrace of someone you wondered about often. You realized, the best way to prove to someone that you love them was to stick around. And Reiner had stuck around, as much as you stuck around for him.

You left Jean long time ago for reasons you only vaguely remembered now, but life went on and sooner or later you should make it in your heart to accept it. You smiled and thought of your life. Sure, there was a lot of thing you need to patch up, but what is life if not persevering?

You pulled away from Jean, surprised to see a beaten look on his face. Far away from the dandy and sharp young attorney you would see on the news. Once, you loved this man, but years had passed and the one he wanted was no longer there. You were no longer the person you were thirteen years ago. You were no longer the girl Jean longed for, all he wished for was a passing ghost that you have left behind in your adolescence.

You caressed his cheek for the last time and landed a kiss to his forehead, “Jean, I’m so proud of you. How far you have gone. I’m sorry I wouldn’t be the one you’d share your future achievement with, but for all the things you have done to me, for seeing the good in me when I could hardly see it… I want to say thank you,” you smiled although pain was searing within your chest, “there’s a world out there where this would work out. But not this world.”

The unexpected rendezvous you had with the man whom you had given your first love to ended with both of you crying at each other’s embrace, until Salerno’s closed and turned off their lights.

When Jean finally dropped you at your childhood home, the place he used to spend all the times in, Jean smiled and pointed at your room with the lights still lit, “He’s waiting?”

“I think he’s asleep. He’s a deep sleeper, he forgets to turn off the lights every time.”

“Does he even fit in your tiny bed?”

“Well, you did fit.”

“For a time.”

“Yeah, for a time.”

“So, you’ll be Mrs. Braun?”

“Yep, Mrs. Braun I will be.”

Jean scoffed, pretending to be annoyed, but smiling nonetheless, “Lucky bastard, that Mr. Braun.”

#jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #aot jean #snk jean #aot fluff #snk fluff #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #kojins twisted match-up

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silenteyes · 4 years ago

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30 Days of Luke Oneshots based off songs in his playlist I made

If you want day 1, here it is. And this is the link to the playlist

Day 2: Come Little Children

This is very much inspired by this oneshot by @asmo-ds , please do read it! Also heads up, I have no memory or clue what Barbatos calls Lucifer so I’m just gonna let Barbs call him by his name

Warnings: Angst (There is comfort though! I just couldn’t follow Hocus Pocus’ interpretation of the song)

---

Simeon’s cries felt distant as he fell from the realm he once called ‘home’. Why? Why did it have to turn out this way? What did he do wrong? Was he that... useless? Even Michael couldn’t believe his ears when he heard that Luke was going to be banished. He had done nothing, and could even rival what angels higher in the hierarchy are capable of. Useless was anything but what Luke is.

He was told by Simeon to go straight to the brothers, or at least Diavolo and Barbatos. Oh gosh, Simeon’s face... Luke had never seen it before. It was so void of the happiness he was used to seeing. Right then, it was so full of grief and despair, and Luke felt so sorry that he was the cause of it. The face that once gave Luke hope was now shattered, and the only thing he could hold onto was the comfort Simeon’s eyes revealed - telling him that everything was going to be alright. Luke disliked the demons, but even he had to admit he could tolerate them and in this situation, it would be best to trust them.

He was expecting to hit the ground when he was caught by arms that felt so strong and warm.

“Luke, what are you doing here? Why did you fall fro-” Lucifer asked the younger before cutting himself off, his realization hitting him. Luke’s wails gave away that he was in deep agony and although Lucifer didn’t really like him that much, those wails felt like stabs, so wrong coming from this child who used to be so pure.

Luke held onto Lucifer as if his life depended on him, which it probably did considering that if Lucifer wasn’t there he might’ve already been gone. Lucifer adjusted Luke’s position into a more comfortable one, comforting him the way he used to comfort his brothers when they fell from the Celestial Realm. He tucked Luke’s head into the crook of his neck and rushed to the Demon Lord’s castle.

He woke up with a cry as pain shot up his back and he was hurriedly laid back down by a pair of arms. He opened his eyes slightly to see the person before he let out another sob.

“Lu...ci..fer?” he croaked out.

“Yes, it’s me, Luke,” Lucifer sighed out in relief. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d been worried sick Luke might not wake up. “You’re in one of the bedrooms in Lord Diavolo’s castle right now. Barbatos will be coming in soon to check in on you.”

Luke let out a strangled noise as he tried to nod. Lucifer shushed him and checked over Luke once more and his breath caught in his throat. Where his back was once bare now grew tattered and dark feathers, indicating that his wings were going to grow sooner or later. His horns might grow then as well.

As he was looking over Luke, Barbatos came in as if he was in a rush, and it seems as if he was.

“Oh, Luke,” Barbatos whispered is horror. The butler had taken a liking to Luke, and when the exchange program ended, the younger didn’t hold back any tears as he hung onto Barbatos.

The butler then brought in his signature cake and Luke lightened up a bit, which made both the older demons smile sadly. Barbatos gave Luke a slice of the cake and offered one to Lucifer as well, which he accepted when he glanced at Luke.

“Ugh, I missed your cake, Barbatos! I kept trying to make it but it wouldn’t taste the same!” Luke groaned and made Barbatos chuckle slightly. He and Lucifer then exchanged eye contact.

“Lord Diavolo suggests that Luke stays at the House of Lamentation, if you don’t mind,” Barbatos told Lucifer to which he sighed in response.

“I’ve thought so, my brothers are already making a room ready for you,” he said as he looked at Luke and he widened his eyes.

“If it’s fine. I really don’t want to burden any of you! I’m already doing so by-”

“Luke, they’ve already made a room for you. You won’t be burdening us,” chastised Lucifer.

Luke stared at Lucifer before giggling softly. “I now see why MC used to call you an over-bearing mother.”

Lucifer pulled a face at the thought of that as he sighed in exasperation.

“Lucifer, can you give me and Luke some time alone, please?’

Lucifer looked between the two and nodded as he sat up and left. He could guess that Luke still wasn’t alright, and he wouldn’t be the best at that. Besides, Luke and Barbatos had a bond much stronger.

As Lucifer left, the tears he had been holding in started falling from his eyes. Barbatos then slowly took the plate of cake and placed it on the table and sat down on the bed, and ever so gently he lead the boy forward until Luke was pressed up against his side and wrapped up in his arms. The sobs Luke let out were heart-breaking and his small chest was heaving heavily, struggling to breathe. Barbatos then suddenly had an idea, and he the placed Luke’s head on his chest.

“ Come Little Children,

I'll take thee away,

Into a land of enchantment.”

The butler’s calm and low voice quieted Luke, but he was still hiccuping and tears were still running down his face. “Come Little Children,

Times come to play,

Here in my garden of shadows.” Barbatos has never despised the angels more than this moment (except maybe Simeon). Rest assured, this “garden of shadow” would be the safest place Luke can live without being banished just because some angel thought he was weak and useless. “Follow sweet children,

I'll show thee the way,

Through all the pain and the sorrows.” The butler is sure that in time, the brothers and the young Lord will be able to help Luke through all this. He’s too young after all, and this will impact him forever. “Weep not poor children,

For life is this way,

Murdering Beauty and Passions.” Alas, out of all the realities he’s seen this one may have been the most unpredictable of all. But - he guesses, life isn’t always about beauty and happiness. “Hush now my children,

It must be this way,

Too wary of life and deception.” Luke was never really deceived in a way so cruel, so harsh for beings who live in the Celestial Realm. So maybe it was because of that even though he distrusts easily, he places his confidence and kindness in many people, the young Lord can confirm that. “Rest now my children,

For soon we'll away,

Into the calm and the quiet.” Barbatos finally felt Luke slump against him and he brushed his lips against the younger one’s hair.

“Do not worry, Simeon. We will take care of Luke and one day you two will be reunited again. This is a reality I am going to make happen.”

The End

---

Oh my heavens the way it took me 3-4 fucking hours to make this MY BRAIN LITERALLY WENT BLANK AFTER THE FIRST FIVE PARAGRAPHS. Anyways hope you enjoyed this! Thank you, lads, for reading this!

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sapphim · 4 years ago

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Really thinking hard about how to handle Sebastian in the new climax crisis mod because when I initially made no seb climax crisis (as my *checks* third published mod, five years ago) I was really dissatisfied with what I was able to accomplish with the options I had available for modding back then.

I’ve talked at length before about the problems I have with Seb’s content in the climax but it mostly boils down to 1) quite a bit of it feels more like hamfisted movie villainry than a meaningful emotional response and 2) since Sebastian is dlc (and not even day 1 dlc), the entire scene is structured around the assumption that he won’t be present by default, and thus most of his dialogue, rather than contributing meaningfully to the conversation, insists of him shouting into the void while no one reacts.

I’m trying to come at this with a fresh outlook and not reference any of the choices I made in the past. But, anyway, here’s what I’m toying with rn. Feedback appreciated.

I removed most of his lines from my mockup of the dialogue so that approaching it I will be making decisions about which lines to add in rather than which lines to remove, but I’ve already decided to retain the following exchanges in the conversation following the chantry boom.

Orsino: The Circle didn't even do this! Champion, you can't let her! Help us stop this madness! Meredith: And I call on you to keep order! After what just occurred, you cannot deny what must be done. (or) Meredith: And I demand you stand with us! Even you must see that this outrage cannot be tolerated. Sebastian: Why are we debating the Right of Annulment when the monster who did this is right here? (But this then segues back into other npc reactions which are normally skipped if Sebastian is present)

Also this:

Hawke: Was that... why you needed me to distract the grand cleric? Sebastian: This? This is what you tried to trick me into doing? Sebastian: And you went along with him! Anders: If you knew what I was doing, you would have felt honor-bound to stop me. I couldn't take that chance. (or) Hawke: Was that... why you needed me to distract the grand cleric? Sebastian: You were... part of this? Anders: If you knew what I was doing, you would have felt honor-bound to stop me. I couldn't take that chance.

Also this:

Anders: The Circle is an injustice, in many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see. Sebastian: Elthina is not the Circle! She was a good woman, and you murdered her! Orsino: You fool! You've doomed us all!

It’s the second part of the conversation that’s more problematic, in which Hawke and Anders have a big long back and forth conversation while the camera periodically cuts to Sebastian, featuring absolutely no one reacting to anything he says.

Thinking about moving a few lines around if I can find places for them that flow better, ex.

Hawke: Opinions? Sebastian: He should be killed on the spot. With the templars busy, there is no one who can contain him until a trial. Sebastian: If I'd been in that chantry today, would you be waffling? You know what must be done!

Then there’s the tricky part, which is actually dealing with Hawke letting Anders live despite Seb’s objections. Most of Sebastian’s “im gonna go to starkhaven and raise an army to return and destroy you all for harboring this criminal” dialogue is absolutely unusable lmfao. Admittedly, I can theoretically cut down existing audio lines now so some of them might be partially salvageable, but I’m not counting on it.

The best existing objection (which I ended up using in the first mod) is

Sebastian: You condone this? The brutal death of an innocent woman of faith? Someone you knew! Who trusted you!

Then I want to add a third option to the dialogue wheel (which I wanted to add five years ago but didn’t know how to make it work perfectly at the time) so, thus:

Choice #1 (text): ? something something bigger picture ? won’t undo what he’s done ? need all the help we can get ? idk Choice #1 (dialogue): 6195829 I'm sorry about the grand cleric. But there's much more at stake. Choice #2 (text): 6087747 Stay out of this. or 6144517 Stand down. Choice #2 (dialogue): 6182459 Do not interfere, Sebastian. Choice #3 (text): 6182489 Fine. Anders dies. Choice #3 (dialogue): 6182488 He's right. The grand cleric deserves justice.

No edits made to the scene if you kill Anders. (And credit where credit is due, I do think that exchange is well-written)

Hawke: He's right. The grand cleric deserves justice. Anders: Yes. I would not deny anyone's right to that.

The paraphrase for the other existing option has been changed, and if you tell him to fuck off he will still leave and you’ll never see him again (though uhhhhhhhh hopefully less looking like he’s being set up to be the sequel villain). This line is probably staying, at least:

Sebastian: I gave up on Starkhaven to serve the Maker, but He has turned his back on Kirkwall for harboring heretics like this.

The first option is the one that will allow him to stay if his end-stage questioning beliefs has been completed, otherwise it will segue back into him leaving. This line I miraculously found hanging out in another conversation is such a godsend for that:

Sebastian: By Chantry law, these mages must be contained. But Elthina, bless her, feared Meredith as much. Sebastian: I will stand with you, Hawke.

Though that’s only useful if Hawke sides with the mages. In the existing mod when Hawke sides with the templars and Seb qualifies to stay I believe it goes

Hawke: Help me restore order. Anders: Fight with the templars. Against the Circle. Anders: Perhaps that is the only way to make this right. Stop this war before it's too late. Anders: If you think that is a better atonement than my death, I am with you for so long as I can maintain my grip on the monster inside me. Sebastian: It will never be enough, but it's a start.

Which might still be the best I can do.

As for setting the end-stage questioning beliefs as the threshold for Seb to stay, I think that’s perfectly consistent with everyone else. Aveline, Merrill, and Fenris are now always stay if you side with their preferred side, always stay if you side against their preferred side and you’ve completed their end-stage, and never stay otherwise. Anders is always stay if you side with the mages (and ask him to stay), always stay if you side with the templars (and ask him to stay) and you’ve completed his end-stage rivalry, and never stay otherwise. Seb would be always stay if you kill Anders, always stay if you refuse to kill Anders but have completed his end-stage, and never stay otherwise.

Admittedly, Aveline, Merrill, and Fenris all give you a chance to recruit them back in a later conversation (and the vanilla threshold is that they’ll agree if they’re not between 50%-100% rivalry), but if you side with the templars you have one chance to keep Anders or else he’s gone for good, and I think that’s fair with Seb as well.

So obviously uhhhhhh most of what’s left to do is cobble together a collection of lines of dialogue for the Seb stays/Seb goes exchange that actually feels like a real conversation. Which is the difficult and subjective part. But being able to commandeer lines like “I'm sorry about the grand cleric. But there's much more at stake.“ and “By Chantry law, these mages must be contained. But Elthina, bless her, feared Meredith as much.” help a lot at least.

Anyway that’s my rambling on my current thought process out of the way lmfao thanks for reading.

#climax crisis mod

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ladynestaarcheron · 4 years ago

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Invisible String - Chapter Three

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @iammissstark @sayosdreams @ncssian @westrangecollectionkoalaposts @queenestarcheron @nessiantrashh @ko0mbayamylord @skychild29 @sensitiveillyrian)

thanks so much for your patience everyone<3 here’s chapter three!

---

Azriel remembers the exact moment his bond with Nesta snapped into place; that first inhale of breath after it. How cold and crisp it had seemed; like her, maybe. For a brief moment, he had seen it all unfurl in his mind. If he were not in love with another, if her sister did not call to him so, if his brother did not so clearly desire her with every bone in his body...how they might tell their story.

But it had only been for a moment, and every one after only further solidified what he knew: this bond would not be a traditional one.

That doesn't make it any better when it breaks with her death.

It takes him back to that first breath with Nesta, this first breath without her. It hurts to breathe, and then it doesn't get better-it gets worse. Because Rhys asks him what's wrong.

And now he has to be the one to tell them. Feyre, so nervous and guilty all the time now. Cassian, utterly heartbroken and trying his best not to let it show. And Elain, hiding from him.

And the knowledge that this...empathy, this innate knowing of his family's feelings...that that is-was Nesta's. Nesta, and how she saw everything about everyone and catalogued it and sometimes felt it herself...that is gone. He'll never have that again. That...caring.

But she was his only chance. He was never going to feel joy so easily like Mor; he's always known that. But Nesta, though she did not know, helped him see it more clearly. Recognize the light in the world, even when she was in such a dark place herself. He had never thanked her. Never even...

"Az?" Rhys says again, putting a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back. He blinks to see Feyre and Cassian looking at him, concerned.

He can't meet their gaze. Shit. Shit. How did this-he should've seen, should've known. Felt it, perhaps. But now there's only this void, this nothing where Nesta once lay-

"Sit down," Cassian says, moving him into a chair. "Mor-yeah. Az, drink this."

Oh, Mother, how's he going to tell Cassian? How can he do this?

"No," he croaks, pushing Cassian's hand away. So generous and caring, even though his bond with Nesta hurt him so much. Azriel doesn't deserve him.

"What is it?"

He can't do it. He can't. This is the cruelest twist of fate there is, surely. Cassian doesn't deserve this. Azriel shouldn't be the one to tell him-it shouldn't be happening at all-how did this even happen?

"Az!" Cassian slaps him in the face.

"You think that's going to help?" Feyre demands. "He obviously needs a healer."

"No," he says, more forcefully, standing up. "I...we have to...sit. Stay here a moment." He needs to get a grip on himself. Send a shadow to tell Nuala to get Elain and seat her here, too. She and Feyre should be together for this. And Amren...she had been Nesta's friend, once.

How is this falling to him? How is he supposed to do this?

A few minutes pass until Elain shuffles into the room, exchanging a bewildered look with Feyre. They still do not know. They haven't even asked him if this is something to do with Nesta.

But he has to tell them. Now.

He's the worst person in the world for this. He wishes, so intensely it burns, that she were here. What he wouldn't give for her perception right now-how cruel that he does not get to keep a part of her-as if it should have been him who had gotten any of her, when it so clearly was the wrong choice this whole time-

"Azriel?" Elain's soft voice calls him back. She hasn't spoken to him in a week. This is their first conversation in a week. He doesn't doubt it will be their last.

Everyone he loves is gathered around him, sitting, gazing at him. Only Amren's head is turned, staring at nothing. Perhaps she's figured it out.

He takes a deep breath-dull, stale, so unlike that fresh one months ago.

"I'm so sorry to tell you this," he says, voice quiet. He forces himself to meet Elain's eye. She reaches a hand out to Feyre, like she can feel what's coming. Perhaps she can See it. He swallows, daring a glance at Cassian. It's too much to say-he can't force the words. "The bond broke a few minutes ago." He stops for breath. Can't look. Can't do this. "I can't feel Nesta anymore." Don't look. Don't. "She's gone."

When Azriel was a child, he was left largely to grow in a darkened room by himself. He would be let out for an hour a day, and once a week he was permitted to see his mother. So either the Mother has extended Her mercy upon him by allowing him to answer the shadows that beckoned him or he managed to wring life in the darkness by his own sheer will, but either way, that power eludes him now. Every second that passes is excruciating, perfect in its misery and pain, and there is no reprieve. Every second anew brings Elain's screaming sobs, Feyre's hyperventilating, and the dead, broken look in Cassian's eyes. Over and over again, endlessly, and he thinks it's all he'll hear and see forever.

Until she walks in the door.

Nesta stomps her way out of the house, fuming to herself. She ripped herself apart, and for what? It's what everyone wanted, so why are they acting like this is a greater sin than the existence of the bond she has severed? Surely this is what they all wanted. But instead she gets Elain's tears and Feyre's self-righteous horror and Azriel won't look at her and Cassian's not even there.

She isn't crazy. This was what everyone wanted. This was the only way they could go back to...what they had before. That wasn't perfect, and it certainly wasn't normal, but it was better than the alternative.

Her rage clouds her vision as she leaves the house, she nearly misses the bit of ripple in the shadows of her sister's garden behind her.

"You!" she calls out angrily, whipping around before she even realizes what she's doing. "You come back here!"

Azriel steps out of nothing, bowing his head, his hands clasped together in front of him, the picture of submission. But his scarring, his massive wings, the knives she can see hidden on his person make him look like a parody of a manservant. She remembers the fear she felt for herself and Elain when he first stepped into her father's house, but that's gone now.

After a few seconds of silence, he says, "Can I help you with anything?"

She can't help herself. She laughs bitterly. "You are so full of shit." She shakes her head, laughing still, mockingly, as she settles down in the shade of a tree.

She can see Azriel hesitate in her periphery. He can't stand her, she knows. But he doesn't want to leave her here, near mad in his eyes, out of obligation to Feyre.

"You got off easy, you know," she says to him. "You didn't have to do anything. I did all the work."

She closes her eyes and tilts her head back. He's quiet, and she thinks he's gone. But then he says, the rage in his voice almost mirroring what she feels inside, "If you think it was easy feeling the bond severed, and knowing it meant that you were dead, and feeling that alone in front of your sisters and Cassian, you are out of your mind, and maybe as selfish as Rhys thinks you are."

Nesta's eyes snap open. She stares at him, frozen for a moment before she feels her cheeks color a bit. She does not cower under his unblinking gaze, but it takes her by surprise.

"You didn't want the bond," she says.

He doesn't say anything. He never does, Nesta thinks to herself. And she'd get lost inside of herself with someone as quiet as him.

But then he sits down next to her. "I didn't," he says softly. "But I didn't want you to die."

"I didn't die."

"Well, we didn't know that then."

Nesta turns her head to his. "I was the worst person you could imagine to be bonded to," she says. "You hated me. You're happy with this."

He is quiet for more than a few seconds. "You are not the worst person I could imagine. You're not a bad person. And I certainly don't hate you. I admire you. But yes...I think we'll both be happier without this."

Nesta releases a breath she has been holding subconsciously. "We're not right for each other."

"I agree."

"Then why is everyone acting this way," she says, shaking voice falling flat, because she doesn't care about everyone.

"Because it was dangerous."

That makes Nesta want to scream. "How come everyone's choices get respected, danger aside, except mine?" she demands. "And don't tell me that I took away your choice, because you wanted this too."

"I understand your frustration," he says, and she knows he's not trying to be condescending, that that's just how he talks, but all things Holy, it irritates her. "I'm sure you understand Elain and Cassian's emotions better than I do. You're incredibly empathetic."

She wants to reply, but she can't. He said his name, and she doesn't trust her tongue enough to open her mouth.

"I admire your tenacity," Azriel says, sitting down next to her, "and insightfulness and cunning and nerve. I've felt your soul. I know how deeply you feel. I can imagine how hurt you are. The time you and I were...bonded, it taught me how to feel out other people's emotions. I...value that. I value you for that."

She hates him for being the first person to say that to her. She hates him for being the one who's come after her.

"Some advice...about Cassian," he says, voice low. She stills. "He likes to take care of those he loves. He doesn't always realize what he needs, though."

What he needs, she grumbles to herself. What about what she needs? Has anyone offered Nesta an apology, a cup of tea, a shower?

"It's so odd," Azriel says, a faint smile on his lips.

"What?"

"To see you...and know you must be thinking something. But not be able to tell anymore. You appear quite impassive, you know."

Nesta tuts. "Look who's talking."

"Touché," he says, and she's almost calm enough to laugh.

"I'm not impassive," she says softly.

"I know. You just appear that way." He hesitates. Considers his words carefully. "I don't think...anyone believes you're emotionless, Nesta."

"I don't care," she says automatically.

"I never minded your quiet," he continues, as though she had not spoken, "but you should know that Cassian likes to talk. About emotions. Sometimes."

"Stop talking about him."

He shrugs and settles into silence beside her. They stay that way for a few minutes, before Nesta breaks it.

"I suppose...Elain's feeling guilty. And hurt. Though I don't think she has good enough reason to be," she adds. "But..."

But Cassian should have come back by now. Morrigan has told him she is here. So where is he?

"If you don't think she has reason to be hurt, are you going to talk to her?"

Nesta thinks. "Yes," she decides, standing up.

"Right now? I thought you said it was best to give her space-"

"She's had enough space. I'm sick of waiting. Enough of my life has been wasted on this rubbish. No offense," she adds after a beat.

He grins, wider than she's ever seen him. "None taken."

"I'm going to talk to her now," she says. "You can talk to her after, if you'd like. Or don't. I don't care."

"You know, Nesta," he says, walking beside her up back to the house. "I consider you a friend."

She stops to look at him. "You're all right, I suppose," she says finally. She falters in the doorway and turns back around to face him. "Actually. I'm glad it was you."

His eyes widen slightly and she hurries to explain. "So we could break it," she says. "And now we're free. Forever. And we're fine."

"If you want to talk to Cassian," he says, walking backwards towards the house's shadows, "I suggest you do so sometime today."

He disappears into nothing, but she's already inside, rushing to find her sister. This ends today.

#nesta archeron #azriel #head empty no thoughts so i'm just gonna post this

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years ago

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Much Ado About Nothing

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Johanna’s visit to the library takes longer than expected due to ... unforseeable circumstances.

Snowed in Valentine’s Day sketchbook AU

Notes: Okay this fic was written and revised at the quickest speed I could manage so it’s probably not the best, but in my defence I wasn’t even going to write it before I saw @kaminos-hangout-corner ‘s post about v day being cold like, three days ago, so it’s the best I could do :3. Happy Valentines, hope you enjoy it! (also please keep in mind I live in a place where snow is not a thing, so sorry if this is too inaccurate)

Read it on ao3 I Read last year’s Valentine’s sketchbook fic

The library’s closing time had long since passed by, yet the lights inside it were still lit, something that was becoming recurrently common these days. With it being a Sunday, the library’s doors were supposed to have been locked at five in the afternoon, but the librarian had found herself… otherwise engaged.

Johanna had walked in earlier that day, bringing a basket of cookies to give her and of course, bringing her lovely self. Even if she wanted to do so, Kaisa wouldn’t have had the heart to tell her to go away when the time had come for her to close the library, and she very much hadn’t wanted to.

Sometimes the kind woman came to doodle; on the occasion when Kaisa had mustered up enough bravery to ask her about it, back when the two of them barely spoke at all, Johanna had said she liked the peace and quiet of the library, as well as finding it an inspiring place. The librarian had had to agree, there was something about the place that inspired not only knowledge, but also imagination, but she didn’t dare say that it was probably the vestiges of magic in the air.

Other days, which Kaisa had to admit were her favourite, Johanna came simply to check out a book and she always made time to exchange a few words with the librarian; the baked goods were new, but Kaisa was definitely not about to complain.

Of course, she supposed she shouldn’t really be talking during her working hours, nor giving all her attention to one single library patron, but it wasn’t like anyone else but Johanna seemed to even want the librarian’s attention, and besides that they always kept their voices down so as not to disturb anyone. Seeing as the situation seemed completely unproblematic, Kaisa didn’t stress about it, and even felt flattered that Johanna had chosen to spend some more time with her on that date, since she certainly had better things to do. The problem came when, hours after the library had been closed, when they had already spent hours chatting alone in her break room and eating the cookies, Johanna looked at the clock and suddenly excused herself, saying that she needed leave.

“Do you want any help?” Kaisa asked after a couple of seconds of watching the woman struggle to push the library doors. It seemed like a very unusual occurrence, in Kaisa’s eyes. Big as they were, those doors had never given her much trouble, and she knew for a fact that Johanna was a strong woman. She still remembered the time she’d let a pile of books fall from her cart and Johanna had picked all of them up for her at once, which considering how lengthy and heavy the books had been, was no small feat.

“I think I do, actually.” Johanna adjusted her grip on the handle in a way that allowed Kaisa to grasp it too. For a moment, the librarian’s fingers brushed against Johanna’s hand, allowing her to feel how soft they were. Were she not in Kaisa’s presence, she would have huffed at herself for noticing such a small thing in the situation she was in; she really had it bad.

They attempted to open the door again, together that time, being unsuccessful once more. Kaisa’s brow creased. Granted, she hadn’t expected her limited strength to be of much help, but this shouldn’t be this hard either.

“Together on a three count?” Johanna suggested and Kaisa nodded. They both took a wider stance, and when Johanna reached the ‘three’, they dumped all their body weight into the door, but to no avail. They would have had more luck moving a boulder.

The two of them were heaving with the effort when they stopped, Kaisa going as far as leaning forward and placing her hands on her knees to rest.

“What on earth…” Kaisa breathed, before connecting the dots and immediately coming back to an upright position as if she had been startled. “Oh no.”

Johanna gasped when the librarian began running away to the closest window. She’d known it had been snowing, but she really hadn’t given this matter much thought. Spending her days inside the library, it wasn’t often that the weather became a hindrance to her, so it hadn’t even registered in her mind that it might become on that specific day.

“Tell me something.” Close as she was to the window, the tip of her nose nearly touching it, Kaisa’s words and breathing caused condensation to spread on the glass. “Was it already snowing when you got here?”

Approaching the window as well, Johanna grimaced at the amount of white flakes falling quickly to the ground outside. “It was, yes.”

“Damn it.” She whispered softly, trying to keep her cool while inside she was already cringing at having to deliver these news. “I’m sorry, Johanna, but it looks like you’re snowed in with me.”

_#_#_#_

If Kaisa had stopped to think properly, she would have noticed that she was stressing about the situation a lot more than Johanna herself was. This gave the artist conflicting feelings at best. She didn’t know what to think about how desperate Kaisa seemed to be to get rid of her.

For her part, the librarian couldn’t get out of her mind that she had ruined Johanna’s Valentine’s Day. Surely, for her to have asked to leave so suddenly earlier, it was because she had a date (or at least something that was worth her time more than keeping the lonely librarian company), and Kaisa told herself that if she hadn’t been so selfish and had stuck to the rules, asking her to leave the library at the time everyone else was supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. Now Johanna was stuck with her as company.

Johanna had asked if there wasn’t any other way out that she could use, even though seeing Kaisa’s distress was already enough of an answer. Kaisa had had to bite her tongue and say that no, there weren’t any other ways in or out, even though she could list other five just from the top of her head; the Witches Tower wasn’t exactly open for visitors, and Kaisa would prefer it if Johanna did not end up in the void of no return.

Together, they had tried forcing the door open a few more times, even though they both knew it would be no use. For the first time since she’d known her, Kaisa wished Johanna would stay away from her, if only for one second. If she got distracted for long enough, maybe she could figure out a spell to melt the snow outside. Or to blow the door away and blame it on a new variation of mutant book worms, whichever seemed more believable. No such luck, however, since Kaisa had worked herself into a fine state of panic, and worried for her, Johanna made sure to stay close.

Kaisa’s next grand idea was to call the Safety Patrol. They were the ones responsible for operating Trolberg’s snowplows, so hopefully they would be able to help them out quickly. There was a phone behind the circulation desk, and a sticky note with useful numbers glued on it. The librarian took a moment to thank her past self for jotting down the patrol’s contact number, even though she couldn’t imagine herself in any other situation in which she’d ask for their help. Still, it was good to know that at least at some point in her life she’d been competent.

Her fingertips tapped against the wood anxiously as the phone ringed three, four, five times before someone picked up.

“Safety Patrol, what is your emergency?” The voice on the other side was heavily accented, and Kaisa sent a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening in gratefulness that it wasn’t the leader of the patrol that had picked up. She wouldn’t trust that man to open a jar.

“Good evening, I need to have the snow removed from the library doors immediately.”

“The library? Sorry ma’am, it says here that the library is closed. There’s no one there anymore, so there are places that will be needing the snowplow with more urgency.”

Kaisa rolled her eyes, which caused her to look up at Johanna. The woman was looking somewhat uncomfortable, and Kaisa took it that it was because, as she had mentioned before the librarian picked up the phone to make that call, she didn’t want to bother the Safety Patrol. Though she had insisted that there was no need for such haste, Kaisa knew she was only trying to be kind, or maybe to make Kaisa herself feel like she wasn’t such bad company. But she wasn’t who Johanna wanted to be with at that moment, so she would do whatever it took for the woman to get what she really wished for.

“I am at the library.” She answered, irritation making her tone harsh like the cold outside.

“You are?” The woman on the other side didn’t sound suspicious, only surprised. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m the librarian.”

There was a beat of silence as the officer understood the situation. “Oh. I see. Well, I’m afraid that doesn’t change many things, ma’am. This amount of snow caught us all by surprise, many places weren’t ready for it. So, you see, there are people snowed in without supplies, and people snowed in on risk areas. Of course, there are also the main roads which need to be cleaned up. You have a private office with water and some food, don’t you? We will solve your problem when we can, but it might take a while.”

“Listen to me.” Kaisa summoned up her most threatening tone, wishing she’d never allowed Erik’s administration to make that silly inspection in the library, or at least that she could threaten to turn whoever she was talking to into a toad. She highly doubted Johanna would appreciate it, though. “I need you to let me out right now. I don’t care if all you bring is a machete so you can break one of the windows, just-”

So absorbed she’d been in trying to sound convincingly intimidating, something Kaisa was most certainly not used to, she was startled when Johanna grabbed the phone right out of her hand.

“Good evening officer, sorry for the bother.” She was leaning on the circulation desk, propped up on her elbows and sounding remarkably calm. “We will wait, don’t worry about us. Good luck with all the snow tonight. Goodbye.”

The officer said something else, but after that Johanna put the phone back in its hook. When she met the librarian’s gaze, Kaisa felt as if a blow had been delivered to her chest. Johanna looked sad with her, and she couldn’t fathom why. If she was only trying to help…. than the problem must be that Kaisa had allowed this to happen in the first place. Kaisa looked down, not wanting to look at Johanna’s face and see the disappointment in her any longer. She didn’t mean to be the wrong person for her to spend Valentine’s day with, she thought as a blush covered her cheeks, making matters worse, but she could hardly apologize for that, could she?

“Kaisa.” Johanna sighed. “There’s no need for all of this, really. Just… just let me make a call, will you?”

“Of course.” The librarian got up from the chair and walked around the desk, switching places with Johanna. Meaning to give her privacy, she walked a little further away, but couldn’t help but hear the first words she said.

“Hi, sweetie.” Johanna said softly.”I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it for dinner tonight-”

A sudden wave of cold washed over her, and Kaisa wrapped her cape tighter around herself. This conversation really wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

Figuring a hot drink would serve her well, she went back to her office and put some water to boil in the kettle. Some black tea would serve her well, but Johanna looked like the sort of person who drank red berries tea. She didn’t even dare to pick the flavour for her, however, since she had no intention of adding one more screw up to the night.

Johanna joined her right as the water finished boiling. “I already told her I won’t make it tonight.” She said as Kaisa gestured for her to choose a tea bag, allowing the librarian to pour the water on her teacup. “So no worries. I hope.”

“Ah.” Kaisa ran her thumb on the porcelain of her cup. She wanted to take a sip so she would have an excuse not to say anything, but that would certainly cause her to burn her tongue. The atmosphere between them was one she didn’t like, even if she reluctantly had to admit that she’d been the one to create it; it was heavy with discomfort and with words left unsaid, but at least for that last part there was something she could do.

“Johanna, I am sorry.” She said finally, making the other woman look at her with an eyebrow lifted in confusion. “It’s my fault that you’re stuck here right now.”

Looking exasperated, Johanna shook her head. “Kaisa, truly, you don’t have to worry about it. It doesn’t really matter that much, she’ll be fine-”

“It does matter!” Kaisa didn’t know why she was arguing against herself, but she felt like she needed Johanna to be angry at her, because otherwise she’d be the one who would continue being angry with herself. “I should have paid more attention to the time and to the weather. But it was so nice to talk to you privately for a longer while that I… forgot. And now your date is ruined because of that!”

She was gripping the mug so tightly that if it were slightly more frail she’d worry that it might break. Biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt to hold back the tears that were threatening to choke her, Kaisa looked out at the small window in her break room. The snow continued to fall stubbornly, caring not for any of them. Apologizing always sucked; whenever she had too much she wanted to say, it tended to come out all at once in ridiculous manifestations of emotion, leaving her feeling like a fool. At least it was done, and now all she did was wait for Johanna to say something.

“My date?’ Johanna half mumbled, half laughed after a second. “I don’t have a date.”

Kaisa whipped her gaze back to her. “Of course you do.” She said without even thinking about her words, an unusual thing for her to do. “You just called her, did you not? It’s Valentine’s day, who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

To her utter surprise, Johanna laughed, a bubbling sound that began in her chest until it spilled out of her, filling the room with its warmth. Kaisa didn’t even care that the laughter was at her expense; Johanna wasn’t sad anymore and that was what mattered most.

“Kaisa, that wasn’t my date. I was calling my daughter.”

The librarian blinked in surprise, hoping her hair hid the pink spreading on her face. “But… when you noticed the time, you said you needed to leave immediately.”

Johanna’s mug could barely hide her satisfied grin behind itself as she took her first taste of the reddish beverage. Now that she knew exactly what Kaisa’s panic had been about, and that it had nothing to do with wanting Johanna to go away, she was admittedly enjoying the situation way more that she thought she should.

“Yes, because my daughter has an inclination to chaos and would take my being late as an excuse to meddle around the kitchen and possibly set the house on fire.” Watching realization dawn in Kaisa’s face was like watching the sun rise, so deep the transformation was. “I just told her to order in to avoid accidents.”

Holding her steaming cup with her left hand, the librarian used her right one to cover her face. She really hoped there were no witches going through any of the secret passages at the moment that had heard that exchange. They would never let her live this down.

“Oh my goodness.” Her words were muffled by the heel of her hand, and in a show of compassion, Johanna held her giggles back. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted, that was honestly pitiful. I just wanted to make sure you could spend your Valentine’s day - well, Valentine’s evening, I suppose, with the person you wanted.”

Internally repremending herself, Kaisa didn’t dare look at Johanna; she hated how vulnerable and emotional she sounded, and it ought to have made the other woman uncomfortable. She brought her cup to her lips and immediately regretted it when Johanna spoke.

“Who’s to say I didn’t? I did come here to talk to you, didn’t I?”

The witch nearly spilled her tea all over the tiles. When she stared at Johanna, finding her looking right back at her, the woman only smiled calmly, as if the implications of what she’d said weren’t more than enough to shake Kaisa to her core. Still tranquil, she glanced at the book which was sitting on the counter of Kaisa’s kitchenette.

“Is this the book you told me you were reading?” She asked as she lifted up Much Ado About Nothing for the librarian to see. “When we were talking earlier?”

Realizing she still had her cheeks pouched with tea, Kaisa forced herself to gulp it down and nod. “It is. I have already read most of his plays but not this one, so I figured it was worth a shot.”

“We still have some time here, don’t we?” Once more, Kaisa nodded, fearing she looked like a stupid string marionette. “Would you read it to me? I find drawing while listening to stories very cosy.”

“That’s-” Kaisa’s lips slowly bloomed into a smile. “A wonderful idea.”

While the librarian sat down on one of the two chairs of the break room’s table, Johanna produced a sketchbook and a pencil from her pocket. Too distracted finding the place she’d stopped, Kaisa failed to notice most of the doodles in the drawing pad were of her. To that day it had never failed to surprise Johanna that she really believed she went all the way to the library just to doodle in peace.

“Would you like me to begin again so you can keep up with it better?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Johanna was already planning what she would draw. She’d sketched Kaisa so many times, admiring her from afar as she sat in one of the library’s tables, but the evening’s event had made her more confident that her feelings weren’t one sided. Surely a drawing was a more straightforward gift than a batch of cookies, she thought. “Just pick up where you left, it’s perfect.”

After taking a deeper breath, the librarian began.

“I do not love nothing in the world so well as you - is that not strange?”

#lol people who follow my personal blog got a mini spoiler of what this fic would be about #fic: maan #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda fanfic #johanna hilda fanfic

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jaeminscoffee · 5 years ago

Text

Illicit - Not legally permitted.

Pairing- Lee Haechan x reader.

Genre- Angst, Suggestive, Fluff if you squint your eyes, Mafia au.

Word count- 2.6k [not proof read]

Warning- A lot of swearing, mention of violence, heavy make out session towards the end

Request made from prompt

18."Isn't this, like illegal?" "Probably, Who cares?"

68."You drive me crazy"

-x-

Breathing the same air as Lee Haechan meant trouble.

Especially for you, someone as simple as a book store cashier, it'd be the best to stay away from him.

But there was something so intriguing about him the first encounter, that made both you and him go back to each other.

Maybe it was a mere coincidence, or maybe it was because you'd pray to clash paths with him each time you went to work.

But it was on a Sunday, night shift, when the owner of the small bookstore expressed her concerns about her granddaughter being sick, stating that she needs to leave for the day, leaving you by yourself to close up when you met him.

You were fine with that, your house was just around the corner.

There was hardly an hour left, and only about a customer or two came in, leaving after getting what they what they wanted. You decided to pack up for the day. Walking lane by lane, table to table to clean up the place.

Reaching over shelves to place the books that were scattered on the table, you hear a bang from behind, startling you.

You cautiously approach the front, staying behind the shelf in case it'd be a thief. There, near your counter, stood a boy, his back facing you. His back was moving up and down frantically. Thinking that he's a customer, you come out of your hiding, already wearing a smile on your face.

"Welcome Si-" you see the boy flinch, not expecting anyone to be there. He swore he saw the lights dim from outside and no movement. He turned back in a swift motion, clutching at something inside of his leather jacket. Upon examining his features carefully, noticing faint red at the corner of his lips, hair disheveled, you let out a gasp.

You approach him with fast steps "Sir are you ok-" your steps were halted, the boy, who had his hands inside his jacket, took it out, unstable hands pointing a gun at you. You stood dead on your track, breathing uneven as you stood in a life and death situation. "Back off." The boy opened his mouth the first time that night. Voice rough, yet honey like.

The longer you stand there, the more you see his eyelids drop. As scared as you were, you being the nice person you are, take small steps one after the other. It was extremely silent, when he lost consciousness, falling face first onto the ground in front of you. You fasten your steps towards him, the distance shortening with each step you take.

"Sir?? Mr.??" you turn him around, carefully placing him back onto the floor, his front facing you, the proximity of your faces made it easier for you to see the scratches that scattered all over his face, moles spilled here and there. The boy was good looking, no doubts.

With great difficulty, you lift him up, placing him on your back, going back towards the end of the book store, where the students usually sit to study without getting disturbed.

The seats there were much more comfortable than the wooden ones at the front of the store. You drop him onto one of the seats, going back to the counter to get out the first aid kit, when you hear the door being slammed open.

In came 3 guys, all in similar attire, they were all over 6'0 from the looks of it, or maybe you were just short. They were panting hard, just like how you'd seen the other boy at the back of your store.

They screamed danger.

"Where the fuck is he?" one of them asked, the tallest among the three, they were definitely here for the unknown boy, all three carrying pistols in their own hands. You feign confusion, oblivious to the guys. "Pardon me?" The one beside the guy who spoke up, looked you up and down, turning front, facing the shop scanning his eyes all over the place. "Lee Haechan. Where is he?" he asked.

Haechan. That's what the boy's name is.

"I'm sorry i do not know who you're talking about" you turn back to your counter. One of them approached you, standing extremely close, the only thing preventing your bodies from touching being the counter.

"Did you see anyone pass by here?" his voice was deadly low. You gulp down the lump forming in your throat in a subtle way. You shake your head. "But i did see someone run past the corner store" the boys all nodded their heads, exchanging glances as you look at them exit the store, amused at how gullible the guys were. After making sure they left, you make your way to the back, this time with the first aid kit in your hand.

On reaching, you set the box down, taking your towel from your pocket, approaching his body, his breath now normal. You wipe the sweat from his forehead, the nape of his neck, cleaning it up.

Satisfied, you reach out for a cotton ball, pouring a little bit of antiseptic onto it, dabbing it over his bruises.

You started from the scars at the sides of his face, then the edge of his slit eyebrow, to his left cheek. The only thing left, his lips.

You turn back setting the used cotton ball, taking a new one out when you feel yourself being watched.

He said not a word, just stared back, sending shivers down your back. You decided to resort back to cleaning his wound, approaching him for the third time that night, almost placing the cotton ball at the dried blood in the corner of his lips. When seeing him, not put up a protest, you continue.

You face the boy, Haechan once again, immediately dropping the cotton as you find him stare right into your soul. Breathtaking. The only word that can explain the boy. His features cold, eyes void of any emotion, it was scary, horrifying even. You unintentionally stammer "I-i was just cleaning up your wound"

"if you don't mind me asking, wha-what happened to you?" silence. "Haechan..?" that clearly caught the boy off-guard. "How do you know my name?" he asked, voice no longer hoarse as it was when he passed out.

It was sweet, but still stern enough to scare anyone. "Oh there came these - these three guys looking for you, i assumed, an-d they said Haechan, so i thought that's your name"

You hear him mumble something under his breath, looking down, you spoke once again. "I sent them the wrong way though so you're fine, we can call the cops and tell them you were being chased-"

That's when he got up from his seat, obviously taller than you, his demeanor intimidating.

"Thank you for the service, but next time, try minding your own fucking business" and with that, he made his way out of the store.

And that was one out of n times you saved the boy, Lee Haechan's life.

That wasn't the last of Haechan that you saw.

Yes, he tried pushing you away each time you dashed each other. He'd ignore you, but you followed him around, still wanting to figure out what led to the boy having a fresh bruise each day.

It was 7:45pm you were let off work that day, exactly two weeks after the incident, two weeks of following the boy and two weeks into your new found interest.

Your house was the last one in your street, so it took at least 3 alley ways to cut short the route to your house, without walking on the main road

You stop at the store nearby to get some snack to munch on your way, paying for it and taking a turn into the corner street, house being just 2 minutes away now.

Passing by one of the alley ways, through your peripheral, you see a figure hunched over, leaning against the wall while 2 others, holding the boy, with another throwing blows after blows.

Not wanting to turn a blind eye, you hide behind the wall leading to the alley, taking out your phone, searching for a cop siren sound, because as much as you wanted to help the guy, you weren't going to risk your life going in there, not like that would do much anyways

Upon finding the desired sound you turn your volume to max, playing the audio, sparing a second glance into the alley way.

"Fuck fuck fuck run!" they collectively screamed, bolting out of the narrow road, as you pressed yourself hard against the wall in order to hide your figure from them. They didn't pay much attention to their surroundings, running further down the busy road far away from the street you stood in.

After making sure the coast was clear, you turn back, making your way slowly into the alleyway. Seeing him walking towards the entrance, hands clutching his middle, crouching.

"Hey are you okay?" you call out, hearing a voice, he looks up, "Haechan??". You see Haechan grit his teeth, turning his head to the side as you came in as hid life savior for the 14th time in a 2 week span, "For fuck's sake…"

You quicken your steps towards him, replacing his hand in the middle with yours, placing his hand over your shoulder. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Haechan asks, turning his face towards you with a glare, which softened just a bit after seeing the worried look on your face.

"Helping you. Again." He spits out blood, as you scrunch your face seeing the red substance. You start walking towards your house with fast steps, tumbling now and then when he loses his balance. "where are you taking me?" he asked, "Home."

"No Y/n not your house, they'll get to you"

Over the past weeks of you chasing him, him pushing you away and then you rescuing him, he had gotten to know quite a lot about you, as you were a bubbly person. Even so you knew nothing about him, besides the fact that his name is Lee Haechan and he is 20 years old.

"They won't" you say after reaching your house, gently stepping away from him to take out the keys.

You hear him mutter a few curses under his breath.

You open the door and reach out to hold him again, to which he pushed your hand away, making his way into your house on his own. He sat down on your couch, as you made your way to your room, placing the bag down on your bed before heading into the washroom to get the first aid kit.

Haechan sat motionless, looking around the studio apartment, seeing a bunch of pictures hung on the wall, pictures varying from your childhood days, to your highschool years and then to present, a smile unintentionally made its way onto his face.

Pathetic

Haechan growled at himself for how fast he'd gotten a soft spot for you. Yes he hated you the first few days, yes he envied you for living a normal life, but the genuine worry that would take over your expression each time you see him, made him feel human feelings that he hadn't felt in years.

It made him feel warm, made him feel the want to reach out to you again and again, but he knew that's wrong.

So immersed in his thoughts, Haechan didn't notice your presence until he heard an object hit the glass table in front of him.

"Take your shirt off" you said, placing the bowl of warm water down, alongside the first aid kit.

Haechan obliged, too drained to put up a protest, there covered multiple tattoos, most plain drawings with no meaning, but some so beautiful that you couldn't take your eyes off them.

"You wanna fuck me you just ask nicely Y/n, staring is rude" Haechan spoke, as you shift your gaze from his abdomen to his eyes, a smirk playing on his face.

"S-shut up" you say, turning back to take the towel, dipping it in warm water, bringing it up to his face, wiping it clean, as you slowly drag it down his chest, scrubbing clean of any dirt and blood.

Reaching his wound you softly wipe over it, careful not to increase the cut or the blood flow.

Haechan let you do what you did the best, knowing that you're dying to ask him a to z of everything that's happened from when you met him, till date.

"Haechan..?"

"I know what you're about to ask, don't." he said.

You didn't notice the position your in, leaving closer to wipe the last bit of blood off of him

"I think I have the right to know a little at least Haechan, this is plain unfair" you let out, sitting down as you felt your knees go numb. Haechan lets out a groan the moment you found a comfortable position to stay in, confusing you.

You look down, to see why he had let out the sign of discomfort, noticing now that your knees were directly at his groin, and you had made yourself comfortable on his thigh. Eyes widened, you immediately jolt up, only to feel yourself being pulled back down. "Stay."

You nod, slightly flushed as you felt Haechan draw circles with his fingers on your hips that he had used to keep you in place.

Haechan contemplates for a while, thinking whether to tell it to you or not.

"Y/n" he called out, you hum in response too concentrated in cleaning the wound on his shoulder to look up. You were right, it was unfair considering you save him from death's door step each time you could.

"my world is something that everyone asks you to stay away from. You especially, I regret coming into that store of yours the other day. It's dangerous, and definitely not a place for you." Haechan sat up straight, causing you to shift on top of him.

He picked you up by the waist, placing you on top of his lap once again, this time on both legs rather straddling one.

It's come this far, he gets to let his guards down just this once, right?

"I'm dangerous, Y/n. Not just my world. My world is all about selling drugs, gambling, stealing, murder you name it"

"Isn't that, like illegal?" you open your mouth finally, looking up from your hands, to his eyes. The innocence they held melted Haechan's heart, smiling at your question.

"Probably, who cares?" his casual reply had you worried about him.

The longer you stare at him with pure concern, a little nervousness and maybe, maybe just a bit of want, fueled up Haechan's desire.

Fuck it.

He reached out, pulling you down using your neck, pressing his lips firm against yours, the sudden contact made you flinch, but soon enough had you melting right into his touch.

He took your hands, that held the towel with his blood, removing the clothing from your hands and wrapped it around his neck.

The kiss was nowhere near soft, it was purely out of lust, frustration, and maybe a little love even.

Haechan pushed your hips further near his crotch, holding you there tightly, dragging his tongue across your lower lip, retreating it to bite down on the flesh, causing you to let out a soft moan.

You feel him smirk against your lips, his hands leaving your hips, going further down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze. "H-haechan.. Fuck" left your mouth as he attached his lips onto you neck, placing wet kisses in a rushed pace, almost as though he'd been wanting to do this all along.

"You have no idea, princess. But-" he nibbled on the skin of your neck, letting out a soft groan as your hips buck, hitting his clothed member.

"You drive me crazy"

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lovemalecforever · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 12

Family isn't always blood

Alec looked at his Parabatai then to his sister then to him again and sighed heavily before speaking. "Because there is something I want to talk about which needs all of your presence."

"Excuse me!?" Jace exclaimed, "Alec, I can feel your nervousness, what is going on? You're making me scared buddy, we almost lost yo-"

"Jace, calm down. I'll tell you when everyone will be here, and it's nothing bad, okay?"

Even after the reassurance, Jace was still not convinced. He could feel how scared and nervous Alec was through their bond. There were so many probabilities running through his mind, minding that Magnus wasn't there with him when that man never leaves his brother alone.

"Jace, stop. I can literally feel you getting stressed up, I told you, Jace, it's nothing, just... wait for a while."

Jace sighed and nodded. He had met his Parabatai, his brother after a long time, and making him upset or angry was the last thing he wanted. "Sorry Alec, but really, you told Izzy that you're coming but not me? Seriously? Am I not important to you anymore?" he dramatically put his hand over his chest. "You have hurt me, dude."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Stop being overdramatic, Jace. Besides, the look on your face told me that it was worth it."

"Boyzzz!" Izzy interrupted, shaking her head at her brothers for their silliness. "So, big brother, whom do you want to meet first, Clary or Simon?" Out of everyone, Izzy knew really well that Alec considers them family now, remembering the fact that he admitted it when she and Simon visited him.

"It's been long I've seen nugget in training mode. I would like to see her training and meanwhile, tell Simon to come here, I want to talk to you both privately before talking to everyone else."

"What the hell!? Alec, First, stop giving my girlfriend these stupid nicknames, and second what are you guys are up to?"

"Jace, stop." Izzy spoke firmly, "Don't bombard our brother with questions, he just arrived. And, besides, I want to see how Clary's doing so can we move now?"

"Fine, let's go." Jace sighed, and they left for the training room.

While heading towards the training room, Alec didn't miss the changes that had been made at the Institute, especially the weapons room. He knew he made the right decision to make his sister the Head of the Institute when he accepted the post of Inquisitor at Alicante, and she's doing a brilliant job. He couldn't help but feel proud of his sister.

It's been around an hour since Clary started her training, her hair was tied up in a ponytail, she was wearing a perfectly fitted navy blue sports bra with red stripes on it, the back having cross straps with blue-grey yoga pants and red and blue colored sports shoes. Her hands were wrapped in boxing bandages, blowing punches and kicks to the punching bag, which had now started to tear.

"Slow down Parabatai, looks like you're having a bad day, or did you not get it last night, huh?" Izzy teased as she walked towards her soon-to-be Parabatai, a smirk playing on her face, and Jace's face flushed.

"Izzy, Hey!" Clary greeted then held the towel that Izzy offered her. "And to answer your question, both. Bad day because Jace was being an idiot last night, and this morning too." She said, making Izzy burst into laughter.

"Really Clary, discussing our sex life with my sister!? Not appreciated!" Jace said as he walked in.

"She's my best friend, Herondale. I can discuss whatever I want." Clary shrugged and snatched the water bottle that he offered her.

"Oops! Looks like someone screwed up badly." Izzy said while suppressing her laugh, earning a glare from Jace.

Clary almost choked on the water she was drinking and dropped the bottle on the floor in the process when her eyes fell on the third person present in that room, standing by the door frame.

"ALEC!"

"Hello, Carrot!" Alec walked in and laughed when she literally jumped on him. "Get down, carrot, you're drenched in sweat."

"Really! Carrot, Carrot!? Seriously, Alec, I told you to stop giving her names, don't you-"

"I find it cute," Clary said, interrupting her boyfriend and making him dumbfounded. "Alec, when did you come? And where's Magnus?" She asked when her excitement died down and was back on her feet.

"Just now, and Magnus didn't come, I had some work."

"Okay, now I'm jealous, what had Simon done, big brother? Jace? Why do you both treat him like that?" Izzy pouted.

"I like him, but that vampire gets under my skin sometimes. No offense, Izzy." Jace said flatly.

"Izzy, Simon had done nothing, you know I like him, I just don't feel like being like that around him. There's nothing else." Alec reassured, making her sigh.

Izzy's phone buzzed, breaking their chain of conversation. She picked it up to check the message. "It's Si, he'll be here in some time. Your room or my office?" She asked.

"In my room," Alec answered while Jace and Clary kept glancing between the siblings. "I'll tell you both later."

Clary nodded. "I'm going to get a shower, see you later, Alec." With that, she picked up her stuff and left the hall.

"Wait, Clary! Excuse me!" Jace said hurried after his girlfriend leaving the other two laughing at their situation.

"It's good to have her back, you know," Izzy said when they both left the room. "Jace is a different person now, and happier too."

"I know. I can feel it. I'm happy for him, he deserves this. Looking back at how broken he was 3 years ago, I'm really happy that Clary got her memories back. They didn't deserve what happened 5 years ago."

"What's wrong!?" She asked when she noticed an unknown expression clouding her brother's face.

"Izzy, promise me you won't tell Jace what I'm about to say, else I won't hear the end of it."

Izzy raised her brow but eventually nodded.

"You know how much I used to hate Clary when she first came into our lives, she's still annoying, but looking at her now, at them, they are meant for each other, they complete each other. And I'm really happy that they found each other, all over again." He said, having a bright smile on his face.

"You're right, big brother. Jace will never stop teasing you if he'll hear what you just said. And, I agree, they are meant for each other."

Clary came back to their lives almost two and a half years ago. It took her almost a year and a half after meeting Jace at her painting exhibition to regain her memories of the shadow world. When she remembered Jace at the alley of the building where her exhibition was held, Jace frequented their meetings in the hope that she'd remember everything but hid it from everyone else. That was until Simon found out and confronted him, in the process bumping into her becoming the second person she remembered.

Clary always had an empty space in her heart, a void, which kept telling her that something was missing. That was until she met Jace, and she knew that she knew him from somewhere. There were bits and pieces in her mind of a club, bike riding, or some similar events, but they were never complete.

When both boys told everyone about Clary, it was Magnus who advised them to take things slow and not rush her memories. She met everyone, remembered them one by one, Luke being the third one, then Jocelyn, followed by the incomplete memory of her death, which resulted in regaining her memories at a great pace.

What broke the floodgates of her memories was when Jace and Clary were returning from their date, and they were attacked by a shapeshifting demon, which Clary killed with complete ease, shocked at first, but the sudden appearance and disappearance of her runes made her remember that she's a Shadowhunter.

The most beautiful thing which happened between all this was Clary fell in love with Jace all over again, oblivious about their past and Jace's feelings, making him the happiest person in the universe.

When she remembered everything, and stepped into the institute once again, and got all her runes back, she was visited by her mother's soul once again telling her that the Angels had forgiven her, she still has her extra share of powers, but she needs to be careful this time and not repeat the mistakes she made in the past. From that time on she became a completely new person. Better than before, more fierce, stronger, but still stubborn, annoying, and irritating at times.

The most epic thing to happen was Alec and Clary's relationship. From hating each other to frenemies to friends to a weird brother-sister relationship, they came a long way. The bitter comments Alec used to make about her were now more of teasing and mocking in a good way. They had started understanding each other, making everyone around them shocked with their bonding.

***************************

Simon was already pacing in Alec's room when Izzy and Alec entered, making Alec sigh out of frustration. "Stop digging holes in my carpet, Lewis," Alec commented.

"Really!?"

"Boys!" Izzy shook her head. "I can't with you people!" She mumbled, then turned towards her brother. "So, what did you find Alec?"

"Everything!" He answered and explained to them the complete process of becoming immortal. When he was done both of their faces were filled with shock and astonishment.

"So, you have to drink Fray's blood and ask her to talk to Angel Ithuriel on your behalf, that's... interesting. Do you think she'll agree?" Simon asked curiously.

"That we'll see. Are you both okay with this?" Alec asked hesitantly.

Simon and Izzy exchanged a look. "Of course we are, big brother. I'm really happy for you." She hugged her brother tightly. Alec looked at Simon who nodded and smiled at him, he smiled back and mouthed thank you to him.

They broke their hug and Alec sighed with relief. "I'm glad to have your support, but, Izzy, I need advice, I'm confused."

"What is it?"

"Should I wait for everyone to arrive and talk to them tonight altogether, or I'll talk to everyone privately? I don't know how everyone's gonna react, especially Jace and Clary."

Izzy didn't know what to say to that. She looked at Simon than at her brother, trying to form words when Simon broke the silence.

"Um... I don't know what you think, Iz, but I think you should talk to everyone privately, talking to everyone at the same time would mean too many emotions in one place when you don't know how will everyone react which can become uneasy for you. But it's completely up to you." He said carefully.

"I think you're right Simon, thank you. It might take time, but I'll get a fair amount of time with everyone. And I think I'm going to make Jace and Clary wait for the last." He said with a chuckle.

"Now, Izzy, till the time mom and Luke arrive, why don't you and Clary show me what I've asked for!?" He asked with a wide smile.

Simon had a confused expression from his question, making Alec chuckle with the realization that neither of the women had told anyone about the gifts he had asked them to help him make for Magnus.

"Come on then, big brother. It's in Clary's room." She wrapped her arm around her brother's, dropped the silencing rune, and walked towards Jace and Clary's shared room. When they were near their room they heard loud arguments coming from their room making them exchange looks.

"Can we come in Fray? Or are you both going to continue with whatever you were arguing about?" Simon asked while suppressing his laugh, earning a flying pillow from Clary, which he dodged successfully, making Alec and Izzy burst with laughter, and Jace completely embarrassed.

"Are you people done?" Alec asked.

Clary cleared her throat and steadied herself. "Yeah, come in."

"Are you still working on it, or is it completed? Alec wants to see it." Izzy said the excitement was clearly visible in her voice.

"Oh, are you sure Alec? It's not completed yet."

"Completed or not, I want to see both of your's!"

"Okay, it's in my art room."

"Art room?" "What the hell is going on!?" Alec and Jace said at the same time.

Jace was carefully listening to their conversation, making a frown appear on his forehead. He looked at Simon who was mirroring his confused expressions, but no one else, making his nerves rise.

Alec sighed. "Izzy and Clary, may I know why you both kept it hidden from them?" He waved towards Simon and Jace.

"We thought it would be nice to surprise them too, we want to see their expressions when it's done," Izzy said.

Jace and Simon exchanged a look, Jace was about to say something when Alec raised his hand to shut him up. He shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't get my answer, Art room?"

"Oh, my old room, now that I share the room with Jace, I converted that to my personal Art room. Are you really sure, Alec?"

"Yes, and anyways I want it completed before I leave for Alicante."

"Are you sure, big brother? Will you be able to hide from Magnus for that long?" Izzy raised her brow at him.

"Alec, if this makes you relieved, I got permission from Angels to use the portal rune as a permanent rune for me, and anyways I and Izzy are gonna portal to the lakeside to complete all the decorations you've asked for. You can meet us there and take the gifts from us." Clary said.

Alec looked at Clary in disbelief. "You got permission? That's something. Okay then, take your time, but it should be completed by Wednesday."

"We're almost done, big brother. Don't worry!"

*************

They all walked towards Clary's Art room, Alec was way too excited to see what they've done. Clary opens the door, which was filled with the scent of fresh colors, different shapes of brushes were spread in the whole room and a bunch of them were kept in a pen stand with several watercolor bottles and charcoal pencils on a wooden table in the corner of the room. There were different shapes of canvases filled in the whole room.

Clary went forward and removed a red-colored cloth that was covering a medium-sized canvas, only to reveal 3 frame-sized paintings pinned on the canvas, the 4th one was ongoing and one was empty. Alec's jaw fell on the ground seeing them.

"You... you're painting them!?"

"You like it?" Clary asked nervously, biting her nails, and looked at Izzy.

Alec went forward and traced his fingers over the painting of their wedding, both in tuxedos, holding hands, a look of pure happiness on their faces. "Put this in the center, and frame them properly. Magnus is going to love it. And I do too. Thank you, redhead!"

Clary sighed with relief and nodded with a warm smile.

"What the he-"

"Wow, these are beautiful Fray, so that's not the only surprise you're planning for Magnus? It's so lovely!"

"Yes, there's more Simon. I told you and Izzy alre-"

"What is going on!? And why am I the only one who doesn't know anything!?" Jace yelled.

Alec sighed for the billionth time that day. "Jace, are you really not getting it, or are you seriously not remembering!?"

Every eyes were on Jace now. "Remember wha... oh shit!" He gulped when he realized the paintings were from Alec's wedding to all of their following anniversaries. And it's his brother's anniversary next week.

"Sorry, Alec. I forgot about your anniversary. So, that's why Magnus is not here, you're planning a surprise, huh?" He said teasingly knowing that his brother is bad with surprises.

Alec rolled his eyes and smacked Jace on the back of his head, earning a whiney 'Ow' from him while others burst into laughter. "So, Izzy!?"

"It's in the weapons room, come on!"

*********************

They were all in the weapons room, Izzy had vacated the room for some time, and they were the only five present there. She went towards the right side rack, opened the second last drawer and took out a black-colored box, and walked towards the center table where everyone was standing.

"Big brother, it's yet to be completed. The whole engraving is remaining, you sure!?"

"Engraving?" Others said in unison.

"Yes, Izzy! Just show me whatever is done!"

Izzy opened the box to reveal a set of 3 diamond rings, sitting on fake fingers, two on the base and one in the middle of the finger, each connected with silver chains having tiny emeralds covering the whole chain. It was a really beautiful ring. There was a bundle of diamond cuts sitting on the base of the box.

Everyone's jaws were dropped on the floor. The ring was shining brightly in the dullness of the room.

"Why extra diamonds?" Clary asked curiously.

"These are going to be fixed on the engraving. Alec, thoughts?" She asked, her voice filled with nervousness and excitement.

"Wow! I... I'm speechless. You did a great job, Izzy. Magnus is definitely going to fall in love with it."

"I already am," Clary confessed. Her eyes were shining with the lights the diamond ring was emitting.

"I didn't know my girlfriend was this talented!" Simon said. He and Jace were completely dumbfounded.

They all got out of their trance with a loud squeal Izzy made, way too excited and proud of her work. They all exchanged a look and shook their heads at her.

Before Izzy could say, her phone buzzed and her expressions went from excited to soft.

"What?" Alec asked.

"Mom and Luke are here, you're ready, Alec?"

Alec sighed. "Let's get this over with!"

#asaab #angst with a happy ending #angst #fanfic authors #alec lightwood #fantasy #fanfiction #fanfic #lightwood bane family #malec forever #malec fic #happily married #magnus bane #malec

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