#these two had been living in my brain rent free for WEEKS

[dearherondale]

Can someone with talent draw this??? I had a vision

[aster-daydream404]

WOE NARILAMB SHITPOST BE UPON YE!!!

Gossip has been brewing in the cult recently 👀

they’re so silly 🥰🥰🥰 HAJSHHAHAHAHA

(og meme under the cut HAHSJAHHA)

Credit to: @decompose1

[glossdebut]

study break | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t. As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

✧ TAGS: college au, smut, fluff

✧ WARNINGS: oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, slight overstimulation

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay, so this is NOT price of fame chapter two, nor is it the seokjin fic that i’ve been teasing for weeks. this is instead a secret third thing, inspired by my own post that has been living rent free in my brain for the past couple of days. i promise POF2 and the seokjin fic are both coming, but i had to get this out before i lost my damn mind. not beta read, so feel free to inform me of any mistakes i missed. P.S. i know the header isn’t debut yoongi, don’t fucking @ me about it!! i had this photo on hand ):

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.2k words

Yoongi was an extremely effective tutor, until he wasn’t.

As it turns out, dating the person who is singlehandedly responsible for bringing up your Fundamentals of Music Theory grade isn’t the smartest move in the world. 

Things were so much easier when you—wrongfully—assumed he was an asshole. At least then, the arrangement was clear: you met him in the library, tried not to get annoyed at what a know-it-all he seemed to be for an hour, and then went back to your dorm with a slightly easier method of memorizing the circle of fifths under your belt. It went on like that for weeks. Quick and effective, mostly painless.

But then, when awkward small talk developed into genuine interest, you got to know him.

You learned that the reason he never takes notes in class is because he doesn’t have to. He taught himself all of the basics of music theory years ago, could’ve tested out and moved on to a more advanced class, but he wanted an easy A in his course load. You learned that he’s a classical piano major. He likes it just fine, but it’s really a means to an end. You learned that he writes his own raps, performs them at underground shows with a group of friends some weekends, that that’s what he really wants to do. You learned that he’s not an asshole and he’s just shy, that he’s been working up the courage to ask you out all semester.

You learned even more about him on your first date.

Such as: he’s the self-proclaimed master of grilling meat, and he’ll load up your plate for you before he even thinks of feeding himself. He may act like he’s not interested in going to the noraebang, but with just the slightest bit of insistence from you he’ll fold like a piece of paper. He thinks it’s cute when you snatch his snapback right off of his head and put it on your own. Even cuter when you fumble through a verse of Epik High’s ‘Love Love Love,’ squealing happily when he joins in. 

And: he kisses like he’s got something to prove. Knows all the right ways to use his tongue. Makes a low noise in the back of his throat when you do something he likes. Isn’t the slightest bit shy about pulling you into his lap, nor about slipping his hand into your panties right there, Epik High forgotten in favor of making you cum around his skilled fingers. 

So. Yeah.

Yoongi is no longer an effective tutor, because instead he is a fucking distraction.

You’re supposed to be studying. You had been studying, both of you putting up a valiant effort for a full hour and a half. But just as you’d gotten a firm grasp on the seven musical modes—Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian—-Yoongi was whining, insisting on taking a break. You tried to put up a fight, but you’re especially weak when Yoongi gets all sulky, soft pink lips pulled into a pout.

Notecards tossed aside, your fifteen minute study break quickly devolves into half an hour of making out on Yoongi’s bed. As soft music filters into his dorm room from his laptop, you lose track of time with his tongue sliding against yours, the occasional sting of his teeth on your bottom lip because he knows you like it. When you feel his erection pressed against your hip it quickly becomes very clear that you’re both done studying for the time being.

The way Yoongi kisses you never fails to make you crazy. His lips on yours are gentle but commanding at the same time, his hands in your hair holding your head exactly where he wants it as he licks into your mouth like he owns it. When he pulls away, you barely have a chance to catch your breath before he’s trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Your hips rock up against his, desperate for friction. 

“Baby,” Yoongi murmurs against your skin. His hands slide down from your hair to gently tug at the waistband of your jeans, an index finger circling teasingly around the button. “Wanna eat you out. You want that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, gasping when he nips at the underside of your jaw. Your voice is high, needy, foreign to your own ears. He’s good at that—at pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t know you could make.

He wastes no time in peeling your jeans down your legs, tossing them off the bed and out of his way. Yoongi likes to have as much space as possible when he eats you out, you’ve learned. He likes to take his time, spread you out as much as he can on his shitty dorm-provided twin size mattress. Just because he can make you cum in record time—and he can—doesn’t mean he likes to. Not when he’d much rather drag it out, savor you in every imaginable way until you can’t take it anymore. 

You know you’re in for it when he doesn’t take your panties off right away. Instead, when he settles between your thighs, all he does is look for a moment, his gaze laser-focused on the growing wetness seeping through the cotton. 

It lasts long enough that you start to squirm, his eyes flicking up to meet yours at the sudden movement.

“A-are you…?” you start, but you trail off, suddenly feeling way too fucking shy for something you’ve done with him more times than you can count at this point. 

“Yeah,” he hums, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “Yeah, I’m getting to it, sweetness. I just wanted to look at you for a second. Is that okay?”

You shiver, swallowing thickly as you nod.

“You sure?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, so close to where you want him. “You don’t have anywhere better to be?”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” you complain, sitting up for a moment to flick him on the forehead.

“Yah, so disrespectful,” he admonishes with a bite right where he’d just kissed. “I’m just playing. I know you don’t wanna be anywhere else.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I don’t,” you agree, suspicious. He’s up to something.

“No, you don’t,” Yoongi hums knowingly, holding your gaze as he presses a kiss right to your clit. It makes your breath hitch, even with your panties subduing the feeling. “Because you love the way I eat this pussy, don’t you, baby?”

The answer is yes, of course. Yoongi always makes you feel so good no matter what he’s doing, but eating you out is definitely where he excels. But something about how cocky he’s being makes something stir inside of you—-makes you feel a little bold, a little mean. 

“When you actually get around to it, yeah.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, snapping the waistband of your panties against your hip. When he lifts his head his eyes are all pupil. “It’s like that, huh?” he asks, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Maybe,” you say, goading.

He clicks his tongue, dipping down to lick a broad stripe over your pussy without any warning. When he reaches your clothed clit, he wraps his lips around it and sucks hard, tearing a surprised moan from you.

“F-fuck!” Your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate for something to hold on to, but the overwhelming pleasure is gone as quickly as it came.

“Such a brat,” Yoongi mumbles, sinking his teeth into the softness of your inner thigh again, harder this time. “Just wanted to take my time, treat you nice. But if you want it like this, fine.”

Mercifully, his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He roughly drags them down your legs until they’re thrown onto the floor, out of sight just like your jeans.

You gasp when his fingers instantly slide over your slippery cunt, making you gasp. “You get this wet just from pissing me off?” he scoffs, and you shake your head. 

“N-no,” you whimper.

“No?” Yoongi asks, tilting his head at you with a smirk. You feel like you’re going to die when his fingers find your clit, rubbing in punishing little circles. “Tell me what gets you this wet, then, baby.”

“You!” you moan. It feels embarrassingly fast, but you’re close. You’re gonna cum before he even gets his mouth on you properly. Maybe that’s his goal. “You, fuck, Yoongi.”

“That’s right,” he purrs. “You gonna cum already, pretty girl? Before I even get to taste you?”

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Motherfucker. 

You wouldn’t be able to protest even if you wanted to, your brain already succumbing to the pleasant buzz of your impending orgasm. All you can do is squirm and rock up against Yoongi’s fingertips, completely at his mercy.

“That’s okay,” Yoongi continues, unbothered as you shake and moan in front of him. “I know you can give me another one. Go ahead, sweetness. Cum for me.”

Your release tears through you, sudden and intense and all-consuming. You’re sure there are words coming out of your mouth, but between the heat spreading through your body and the static buzzing in your ears, you honestly have no idea what they could be. Yoongi’s fingers keep rubbing at your abused clit until you’re trembling, gasping for breath between moans.

“Filthy girl,” he hums. Whatever you said must’ve been good, because he sounds almost proud of you as he runs his hands over your thighs. “You gonna let me take my time now?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still reeling from your orgasm. Yoongi taking his time is exactly what you need right now, or else you’ll go into complete overdrive. Absently, you think that was his plan all along, but that thought melts away as soon as Yoongi dips down and delves his tongue into your cunt, slow and thorough. 

Your brain? Empty. Brain so fucking empty.

“Shit,” he groans against you, his voice so low and gravelly you can feel the vibration of his words against your pussy. “You always taste so fucking good after you cum for me.”

You thread your fingers through his hair again, moaning long and low as he spreads you apart with his thumbs and dives back in. His nose nudges just slightly against your clit as he licks into you, the barely-there contact making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Yoongiiii,” you moan, earning an appreciative moan from him as he dips his tongue into your entrance.

Your first orgasm took you by surprise, but you can tell already that this one is going to be a slow burn, tendrils of heat that never really got a chance to fade spreading through your body, adagio.

As promised, Yoongi takes his sweet time. He sets an agonizing rhythm: licking into you, dragging his tongue up your pussy, gently sucking your clit into his mouth, over and over again until you’re practically a puddle on his mattress.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” you mewl, your thighs shaking around his head. You’d blush at the sounds he’s producing between your legs, slurping and sucking at you, if you weren’t so fucked out. Instead, all it does is turn you on even more, make you even wetter for him. 

Yoongi pulls back, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I know, baby,” he murmurs soothingly. “You ready to cum again?”

Wordlessly, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut. Two fingers tease at your entrance, getting nice and wet before Yoongi slides them in, and just like that, you’re ready to burst.

“Nnngh—fuck, ‘m so fucking close,” you slur, grasping at his hair as he pumps his fingers into you.

“Give it to me,” he says, before sucking your clit into his mouth again and making stars burst behind your eyelids.

His fingers curl just right, and then you’re moaning brokenly, bucking up against his fingers and mouth as you cum again.

It feels like it lasts forever. Yoongi moans around your clit as you clench around his fingers, squeezing tight tight tight as heat crashes over you in waves. You feel his fingers withdraw, and then his tongue is fucking into you again, licking every last drop he’s earned from you.

He only breaks away when you’re pushing at his head, overstimulated and spent.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he rumbles, climbing up the bed so he’s on top of you, bracing himself on his elbows. He’s one to talk. He always looks so good like this—swollen lips and dark eyes, the bottom half of his face slick from eating you out so fucking well. “You can just cum and cum for me, can’t you?”

“You are insane,” you breathe, grasping at the strings of his sweatshirt to pull him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 

Yoongi chuckles, pulling away just to press his forehead against yours. “You like it,” he says.

“I like you,” you correct, closing your eyes. “Even though I’m going to fail my final because of you.”

That earns a real laugh from Yoongi, his nose scrunching. “You’re not gonna fail.”

“I am,” you say, nodding sagely. “But it’ll be worth it.”

“That so?” He presses another kiss to your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Besides, I’ll just find a better tutor next semester when I have to retake.”

That earns you a sharp jab of Yoongi’s fingers to your side, but he’s got one of those gummy smiles on his face as you squeal under him, so no harm done.

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[readychilledwine]

Hiii helloooo. Back with another request that popped into my brain if it interests you enough to write it into existence ✨ so Az lives in an apartment/condo in velaris that he rents from an old high fae lady who owns the building and she also lives there with her granddaughter (YN/reader/OC) who is def his mate but they dance around it for her sake (and her poor old grandmother’s lol) since she’s still young for a fae. Oh and idk why but I imagine Az having a cat that reader takes care of while he’s on missions. Once a week, without fail, Az has breakfast with the old lady and her granddaughter. If he’s going on an extended mission, he always lets them know he won’t make it and he tells them in person or sends his shadows with the message. One time, he gets severely injured before he’s able to send word that he won’t make it to breakfast. The old lady sends her granddaughter to the townhouse to look for Az and feyre or cassian answers the door and is completely baffled that a girl and her cat are asking around for the spymaster. Like “well he didn’t come for breakfast today and he ALWAYS comes for breakfast and grandma was worried and so was (insert cute cat name) and she wouldn’t stop yowling so I had to bring her to look for him too” reader is def an awkwardly endearing rambler. (And if the cat is buddies with his shadows that would be totally adorable too 🥹) and then maybe it ends off with her (gently) smacking azriel upside the head while he’s on his sickbed healing because how dare he not tell her and her grandma that he was going to get injured and miss their weekly breakfast 😡 feel free to change anything up if you end up writing it!!

The Breakfast Club

Summary - After missing breakfast unexpectedly, a hidden relationship is revealed to Azriel's family, who can't tell if they're more surprised by you or his cat.

Warnings - mentions of injury, stray kitten mentioned, fluff

💙Peep the Azriel Masterlist here💙

To say you were nervous as you approached the High Lord's townhouse was an understatement.

In the 4 all too short and unexpected years of knowing Azriel, the last of which had been spent as much more than just friends, he had never missed breakfast with you and your grandmother. And if he had, it had come with a note or prior notice.

He had not shown up today, breaking your grandma's heart as she had prepared his favorites. It had set worry into your heart, though. Worry you masked as the two of you ate in deafening silence.

You two had hidden the growing romance so well. You didn't want to ruin the illusion now and risk your grandmother becoming protective over your youth and, of course, his reputation and profession.

You held his black kitten closer to you, kissing her little white paws as she mewed softly. She had protested you leaving his apartment to look for him without her, wanting to live up to her name as you tucked her into the hooded jacket you had custom-made to carry the kitten.

The poor baby probably missed her owner, her constant companion, more than she could truly express. You were used to caring for her when he was gone, but he normally always left one or two shadows for her to play with, and today, they were gone.

You'd had a whole explanation planned, rehearsing it quietly on the walk here over and over, but it went out the window the second you opened your mouth. You rushed through the words, stumbling over them as you looked down and away from him. "EverysundayAzrielhasbreakfastwithmygrandmaandIbuthedidn'tshowuptodayandInjstwantedtoknow-"

You shook the feeling of dread building in your stomach and knocked. You would be lying if you said you were not scared when the High Lord himself answered his own door studying you like a textbook. "What can I help you with?"

Rhysand held a hand up to you, scenting the faint smell of cedar and night air that clung to you and smirking before masking it. "Breathe. Start over slower." He tilted your head up to him. "And look at me when you speak to me. You are not a mouse."

You took two deep breaths, cradling Dective Mittens closer. "My grandmother owns the apartment complex Azriel lives in," the High Lord's lip twitched, the final confirmation he needed. "And every Sunday, he had breakfast with us. The only time he doesn't, he lets us know with a shadow or a note or verbally before he leaves. He did not come today, and he was supposed to be back 3 days ago. I just wanted to know if you've heard from him?"

"You're the female he's been missing family brunch for." It wasn't a question. Just a statement. Rhysand kicked off the door frame. "Come inside. He's here. He's hurt, but he will be fine." He glared towards the small kitten in your arms. "And where did that come from?"

"Detective Mittens?" He nodded, continuing to glare. "Azriel's cat? You didn't know he had a cat? She got upset when I tried to leave her in his apartment, so I brought her with me so she'd stop crying and yowling."

Rhys pinched his noses, shoulders shaking as he chuckled. "And who named Detective Mittens?"

"Azriel? It was Detective Mittens or Princess Buttercup. She isn't a Buttercup."

His eyes were watering from laughter, shoulders fully shaking as he led you further into the house and up the stairs. He held his arms out, nodding towards the cat as he stepped in front of a room. "Stay behind me," the High lord entered with a casual grace, stopping a conversation between two deep voices. Azriel's and one you didn't know.

The black collar with a small piece of Azriel's siphon was barely visible among Mittens's long black fur. She finally freed herself, leaping into the bed and walking to lay on Azriel's chest. "How did you get here, baby?"

Mittens was immediately squirming and clawing, desperate to get to her owner and get the cuddles she had been missing. "Did you go outside and pick up a random cat, Rhysie?" A large illyrian male, Cassian, you realized, sat staring with a brow up. "Or did you steal someone's cat? It has a collar."

"Some pretty little thing was at the door. Dropped the cat off and then ran away."

A shadow had already found you, twirling into your hand and ripping you towards Azriel the best it could by itself. Soon, two more joined, then three more, then your whole arm was swallowed in darkness, pulling you to the side of the bed Cassian was not occupying. "Y/n," it came out as soft surprise, happiness underlying the tone. "Angel, what are you doing here?"

"It's Sunday." The answer hit him, and his head fell back, eyes shutting as Cassian and Rhys shared a look.

He tried to sit up, only to be stopped by Cassian's arms, guiding him back down as he winced in pain. "Angel, I'm so sorry. I-"

"Don't apologize for getting hurt," Cassian said gently. The general looked at you. "Breakfast girl?" You nodded. "One. Breakfast was mine and Azriel's thing first until you showed up," a playful glare went your way. "Two. We dropped the ball. He was hurt. Bad. And we knew he was seeing someone, but it's been kept so secret by a certain spymaster that we couldn't contact you."

"Should have just spoken to the complex owner," Rhys muttered under his breath.

You nodded. "And, will you be okay?"

Azriel was focused in Mittens, scratching her ears as she rolled over, exposing the fur of her tummy and waiting. The three of you stared in silence, watching as he cooed and baby spoke to her. Watching as a few tears slipped. "Missed you so much, my little baby. Aw, look at that belly. Y/n been doing the best job keeping it full and happy, huh?"

Rhys and Cassian both hid their smiles, the High Lord motioning for the general to leave the room. You sat on the bed, taking his free hand in yours, bringing it to your cheek and holding it there. "I was so worried."

Mittens moved to the window as if she suspected you two needed room, allowing you two alone time before she'd be back to cover Azriel in her love and warmth.

He wanted to sit up, to hold you close, but every slight movement of his core had nerves screaming in hot agony. He'd never mock Cass for being a bitch while hid guts were hanging out ever again. He settled for moving his hand to your neck, pulling you close and resting your foreheads together. "Im so sorry, y/n," he kissed your nose, eyes closing as yours did. "I got distracted, and it happened so fast I couldn't get word out."

Your hands came to rest on his bandaged chest. "What happened? You never get distracted." He smiled, a rare beautiful thong he hid from everyone but you.

"You accidently tugged the bond when you and Mittens were playing, and all I could think of was getting home to be with you two. Did you catch that stray?" He changed the subject, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

A small orange tabby had been roaming around the apartments. Short little fur "doing nothing," in Azriel's words, to protect it from the Night chill. Azriel has been smitten with it since it allowed him to feed him and get a few scratched in before a shop owner scared it away.

That was over a month ago, and you two had been playing a slow game of seduction with the kitten, praying to the cat distribution powers that they'd allow this little one to trust you both the way Mittens grew to.

"I did. He's in my apartment. Him and Mittens get along really well." As of hearing her name, a mass of black fur launched herself onto the bed, curling up on Azriel's leg that was closet to you and purring. "I named him Investigator Whiskers."

You watched Azriel melt, groaning with a smile at the matching name. You could feel through that string his growing happiness as the same family you two had accidentally made grew, too. "I love you," he whispered softly with no sign of the ice Rhys had so loudly accused him of having in his heart.

"I love you, too. I'm glad you're going to be okay." Rhys and Cassian came back in to you two resting your foreheads against each other again, eyes shut, heart beats synced in time.

It made it even more comical to them when Azriel thought nothing of your hand moving up his arm, rest in his hair before you pulled away, and smacked him. "Ow! Y/n! What the fuck!"

"That," you smirked as you caught his hand that came to playfully tug your hair, "is for worrying my grandma. She made your favorites! You broke her heart! She thinks you hate us!"

"I was hurt!"

"Excuses, excuses!" He pulled you into him, not caring if the good of you had an audience and kissed you deeply. "Mmmm, forgiven," you muttered when he pulled away.

Azriel sighed. "Rhys, can you go get grandma. I think we need to tell her some things. And have lunch."

"Lunch sounds nice," Cassian said as he took his seat and glared at you. "Breakfast theif."

"Boyfriend theif," you shot back.

The room turned into you and Cassian having a playful argument as Azriel watched, fingers scratching behind soft velvety ears. He looked at Rhys, eyes warm with joy and happiness as Rhys looked between you and Cassian, who had fallen together like a puzzle. I like her, Rhys said into his mind. Keep her.

That's the plan, Azriel replied.

General Taglist:

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@elle4404

Azriel Taglist-

A/n-

Picture of my and baby daddy's kitten to pay the cat tax gods 💕

[aceyanaheim]

So I've been trying really hard not to make this post but I've found myself in a really bad situation.

As you all know I recently moved out of my mom's for what I'm hoping is permanent. The original plan was to move to MIami with my qpp and platonic polycule and use the time I had with them to find a job in my field in Miami or at least one that would make living here sustainably. 

This ended up not working out. I’m not gonna go into details but the bare bones of it is this: I had to safety plan my way around my ( now ex) qpp’s fiancee and at one point got on an uber and left the apartment because things escalated to a point where I no longer felt emotionally safe around her. She then talked to the leasing office and I was moved without any warning and against my will. 

I’m now in a new apartment with a new roommate who doesn’t drive me to tears for forgetting things but needless to say my relationships and plans for the future are more or less in free fall right now. 

Moving with my mom or dad’s isn’t an option as the last time I stayed at my mom’s I was constantly on a hotline so I’m trying to crowdfund for a car. Miami is incredibly high in rent and it’s taken two jobs to barely make ends meet. It’s come to the point where a car isn’t just for transportation but for survival. 

If I manage to stay here, which is unlikely, a car will mean more job opportunities as I’m really limited in finding jobs right now. It’ll help me not sink too much money on Ubers which will make it easier to pay rent and also doctors appointment ( as I'm epileptic)

If the worst happens and I have nowhere to go a car will mean shelter for me and Indi ( she has to come with me wherever I go and a lot of places I could bunk at might not be dog friendly) even if I find somewhere to go if I can’t renew my lease a car would be the only way to get me and Indi there since she isn't allowed on public transit and Ubers Have turned me away because of her.

Even if I end up bunking at my mom’s ( tho I refuse to go there for longer than a week) having a car would greatly reduce me relapsing into unhealthy coping since I’ll have a way to leave the house when my brain gets bad. 

All options lead to the fact that I need a car for survival. I talked to some friends and we figured out for a used car that I would at least want to have 10 thousand. There’s also driving lessons which at the cheapest will still run me over 200 and the license will be 50 but I could swing that. The car is the main thing I need help with.

My parents are both…only sometimes supportive ( the last time I talked to my dad about living with him he said “We’d both hate each other and it’d be your fault” not only that but they’re both disabled and in their 60s so they aren’t an option even when they want to be. My siblings are also striking out on their own and don’t have anything to spare and that’s all the family I have in the states so it’s gotten to the point where I’ve had to make this post even tho I’ve really tried not to.  

If you’re in strife yourself please don’t donate but reblogs help. 

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-a-trans-person-in-miami-secure-a-car-for-safety/cl/s?utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_content=amp8_t1&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&attribution_id=sl%3A2d64a1db-d26d-4d9c-a305-44f9042d5945

[amywritesthings]

Hi! Hi! Hi! It’s the Floch friend again. I missed Levi and SU reader so much!!! They live rent free in the back of my head and I always miss them, I don know how you do it. I’ve already said a million times how I love your writing, but it always scratches the right part of my brain and I can’t stop rereading everything.

As for the Hallosleepover, I have a couple of prompts, you can choose either of them (or none, if you don’t feel like it). For Levi x SUreader - their first fall on the surface, and for Levi x P4reader - “when they instinctively put a protective arm out to protect the other when an actor tries to jump out and scare them” (a prompt from the second list).

Hope you had a nice week ❤️

hallo-sleepover '24! / accepting.

floch friend, hello my love! gosh you are always so lovely, i swear. you are the best. i would be delighted to give you a lil First Fall for our fearless duo

first fall.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 860 tags: big fluff vibes, changing of the season, mentions of the underground city, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

Colors.

The trees change colors on the surface.

Levi’s busy fixing his carat in the freshly-cleaned mirror in the corner of the room while you button your ivory pants. Now that you’ve both been on the surface — him for four months, you for two — you’ve settled into a new routine similar to the one you abandoned below the surface.

After living a lifetime there, you’re both used to working in pure darkness. It gives you precious time to be in one another’s presence before you have to slip back across the hallway and into your quarters to pretend yet another day.

The day is still young; dawn fast approaches from its kiss goodnight.

As the sun creeps across the horizon, your eyes see the flutter outside Levi’s open window. 

Your chin turns to observe absently, but then the world stops.

Leaves.

Red leaves.

(It’s almost the start of autumn, Petra had told you at dinner not long ago. A new season. It’s beautiful this time of year.)

“James?” you hear from the side; Levi’s voice, gruff from the morning still.

Dropping your leather leg straps to the floor, you abandon dressing in proper attire for a chance to sprint out of his captain’s quarters towards the front door of headquarters. 

The wooden door slams against stone, reverberating down the hallway. 

The sound may wake up half of the squad from their slumber. 

You don’t care.

Ever since the two of you managed to survive the underground with bared teeth and taut fists, it’s been tough to simply be. The Survey Corps are by no means gentle — people die just as often as those who were once your neighbors — but the surface dwellers have no idea of the luxuries they take for granted.

Down there, the gentle caress of the breeze does not exist. Down there, warmth can only be found in another body and not the sky.

There are no trees, no trunks, no leaves. There are no changing skies.

But up here?

Everything lives and dies and lives again. Everything has an order, turning brilliant colors in the blink of an eye. Slowly the humid summer air flutters into a crisp chill. 

The start of autumn.

Boots skid against the floor as you rush towards the front entrance. You scoot through a sliver of an opening to find yourself outdoors — surrounded by a sea of brilliant vibrance. The trees that were once a staunch green have now faded into a cacophony of colors: oranges, yellows, reds.

No two trees are alike.

“The hell’d you run out for?”

Hearing the baritone sound behind you, your wide eyes find Levi following out right behind you. His hands are still fussing with the carat at the base of his throat, jacket abandoned.

Then he pauses.

Sees, what you see.

“The trees are finally changing. I saw it from your window and had to see it for myself,” you exhale with a childlike wonder, unable to contain your excitement. 

With Levi you don’t have to — just like the changing of the seasons, he knows just about every version of you; every color. You’re allowed to 

“Is this what Petra was talking about?” he asks, leaves crunching under the heel of his boot as he moves to stand beside you. “Autumn or whatever?”

“I think so. She called it a season. I think she said there’s four of them?”

“What was the last one?”

Sticking out a tongue as you concentrate for a moment, the word comes to you a beat later. “I’m pretty sure it was called summer.”

“Hm.”

“I can’t believe they’re all different,” you murmur, pointing one out in particular: its leaves are only just beginning to fade into a new color, causing it to stand out. “Look.”

“I see it.”

His statement isn’t said with annoyance but amusement.

When you turn to him, Levi isn’t looking at the trees. He’s staring at you, as if he’s more interested in witnessing your reaction to something so new and beautiful than living in it for himself.

“Well don’t stare at me.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

His eyes narrow with a fraction of amusement before blinking back to the trees. “Petra also said it will snow up here in the later months.”

“Snow?” you repeat. “What’s that?”

“Got no clue,” Levi admits, choosing to be honest in this private moment with you. If it were anyone else, he’d have a smartass remark. It’s too early for that. “Was hoping you’d know.”

Snow.

You wonder what they call the changing colors, if they have a name as foreign as snow.

Reaching for his hand, Levi does little to dissuade you as you pull him towards one of the adolescent trees to the east by the stables. When you reach to run a fingertip along one of the low-hanging crimson leaves, he squeezes your joined hands.

“Guess we’ll see it together,” he adds.

A promise.

To see everything, anything, together.

(A promise once made in eternal night, now carried into the light. I won't go far from you.)

Nodding, you squeeze his hand back.

“Yeah. Together.”

[valiantroeagleangel]

Varney.

Vampire! Noah Sebastian x female reader.

Varney! Noah, mention of blood, kind of dub-con but not really but a bit I think because of compulsion, oral, unprotected sex, mention of death.

I often have thoughts with Vampire! type of shit and I think I got a bit carried away gathering some of them here. Maybe I need to warn that this is inspired by the book "Varney the Vampire: The Feast of Blood." It's gothic horror I think, nothing too graphic is going on here though. But just- don't want you to be fooled, this is based on gothic gross vampires not that sparkling Edward bitch. I know nobody reads that part every time but you can't say you haven't been warned.

5.3k words if you ask.

Mama’s tag list:  @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy  @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner  @loeytuan98  @sthnog  @cookiesupplier  @cncohshit  @lma1986  @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

"Varney enjoys all the pleasures at once and when he manages to desecrate the bed of a pretty young woman while bleeding her white in a horrible sucking sound. He is a fearsome and scary creature that usually wakes up the members of the fair sex by scratching at the window of their room."

She knew he was here. She could feel him, hear him. She could hear the same four notes he was humming, letting the melody indicate his presence to those around. She looked through the window, trying to discern the shape outside, the condensation on the glass concealing his figure. But she knew he was here, god she knew and she couldn't look away. She didn't dare to move, she didn't want him to know she knew. He did though. Of course, he did. He just didn't say anything, he couldn't scare his prey. She was so innocent in her white nightgown, creeping at the window from her bed, fearing to be harmed in the middle of the night.

So he continued to sing his chords, the notes living rent-free in her mind for years now.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

It was like an obsessive thought, it intruded her mind, and it ate her brain. All she could do was hum along every time she heard them.

She knew he was here, she always did. And even if she abhorred it to hell, all she could do was to be haunted by these notes. They were so mesmerizing, like she was compelled to appreciate them, finding comfort in them even though they seemed terrifying.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She murmured them like a mantra, like it would save her from damnation. As if they were going to keep him away from her when he was the one living by their harmony.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

It wasn't that hard. Actually, if she tried, she was sure she could play them on the piano.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She was just a child then, not so long ago, when she first heard these four notes. That day he left a letter. "I'll come for you, my yuri." Yuri was not her name and by then she had no fucking clue of what he meant. She still doesn't. With time, the years went by and he started to reach for her again. It was first once a month, then once every two weeks, to finally once a week. The more she grew the more he seemed to visit. He was frightening her. He looked so tall, so massive and impressive. She only saw his face once, disguised in the darkness of her room. It was the only time he approached her that close and despite the terror she felt that night all she could remember was his long nose and the way his hair framed his face.

But while he continued his visits, he never tried anything to harm her to her surprise. She knew what he was, she often heard the elder talk about these creatures that come for you at night. But she liked to think he was some kind of protector. Oh, only if she knew. His intentions were everything but caring and kind. He wanted her. From the moment he saw her as a child, he wanted her, he wanted her blood. She smelled like no other.

His first thought was to get rid of her as a child, get a good meal from her and leave her for dead in the snow in front of her house. But even for him, killing that innocent child was too much. So he waited, promising himself a good feast for the years to come. He just had to watch for her, to be sure that no one would try to harm his prey. They called him Varney, Varney the vampire, attacking only those who were pure enough to be maidens. But as the years passed he never acted. He could have assailed her a thousand times now. She was not a child anymore and she lived so carefree- that girl was completely unconscious. He needed to act and to act soon before she would do something that would ruin her forever.

But he did nothing, he watched her for years, he observed how she evolved, how she went from that sweet smiling child to the woman she was today. And god, he was happy he waited because nothing ever smelled as divine as her. She smelled like strong lilies, yuri.

Yuri was the Japanese appellation for lilies. He didn't know her name, even after all these years he didn't look into it. He didn't need to know his prey, all he needed to was watch over her. Watch how happily she danced during the spring balls, how sad she cried during the dead season at the end of the autumn, how charming she was for the Christmas time, and how fragile she looked alone in her bed at night. That poor nightgown wasn't doing her any favour, he swore that if he squinted just a bit more he could see everything. That clothing was so see-through that she might be freezing to death during those stormy nights.

One day he dropped her a cloth, some kind of duvet for her body to heat. It was the only time he actually entered her room, hoping for her to be dead asleep. Unfortunately, she was not, and she saw his face. He knew she did, he only hoped for her to not remember, to think that it was some kind of dream. Only that she wasn't dumb, she knew he was lurking for her all these years and she knew he was here that night, next to her bed. At first, she thought she was good to die, the time had come. A stranger in her room watched her sleep like a psychopath, but he only dropped that duvet, and she knew it was him. He hummed for her and her body relaxed immediately. He had tamed her, had domesticated her. She wasn't even worried about him intruding on her space like that.

He knew he did a great job then, even if she saw what she was supposed to never see, his face.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

Winter balls have never been her thing. She much preferred the ones that were held in the spring or the summer. The celebrations were different, more festive. During the winter the balls were cold, held in big mansions from the ones who were welcoming all the people. Often they were masquerade parties, and she hated that too. She didn't like wearing that mask all night, it was itching and making her face sweat like a pig. Gosh, she hated them, and that corset dress too. It was so tight she could barely breathe. Spring balls were allowing more liberties, no masks, no dresses, nothing but dancing.

Nonetheless, she still walked through that hall, finally entering that marble castle and she couldn't help but appreciate the heat that welcomed her. Greeted by some kind of butler she walked through the corridors, reaching the room of the festivities.

She stared at the impressive chandelier, overwhelmed by all the luxury that surrounded her. She didn't have any idea whose house it was this time. Winter balls were held by the nobles of the land, one by one, it's all she needed to know, at least that's what she lived by.

And just like that the night went, she danced around with some people, chatted with others, it was all pleasant until she couldn't take it anymore. Politely she escaped the small group she was with, reaching for a balcony of some kind as she hoped for some air. That corset was for sure killing her. She laughed to herself, the idea of being killed by her awful garments making her smile a little.

"Oh no the poor lady suffocated in that way too tight dress, who's idea it was? We should strip her naked to see!" She mimicked some kind of rude man by herself, laughing even more at her antics. Maybe she was drunk, maybe it was the heat obstructing her brain, but she found that pleasant enough.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

Until he called for her. She first thought her brain was playing her tricks, but he called again.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She looked up, then down, looking for that well-known figure, only to notice him hidden among the roses of the garden below. She moved as fast as she could, hoping to actually be able to catch him tonight. She had so many things to ask, but she wasn't afraid, curiosity was gnawing at her.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

He sang the chord again and she let his voice guide her through the labyrinth of flowers and small trees she was losing herself in.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

"Come for me, my yuri."

He talked to her and for the first time, she felt like she heard his voice, like he was real, like all of this was concrete.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She couldn't see him yet, but the more she walked the more the melody became persistent.

"Yuri."

He guided her with his voice, keeping it sultry, as soft as his sweet words. Once again transported by his melodies, all she could do was search for him, she was completely frenetic, obsessed. She needed him, she needed more. She wondered why every time she heard him sing she couldn't feel fear anymore. As if he was some kind of saviour, an angel from heaven.

And then she saw him, standing in front of the fountain, hidden by thousands of thorns and roses. She recognized that tall frame and that nose. It's all she could remember him by, the long nose, so straight, so pretty, making him look so elegant.

She was in awe, her eyes staring straight into his, her lips agape. She didn't even dare to swallow, worried he might disappear at any second as if he was supernatural. He wasn't real, he wasn't human, she swore he was not. But he was clearly not an angel either. His aura was so dark and she remembered why she feared him at first.

His eyes pierced through her skin and she suddenly felt naked, as if she was not the one only wearing nightgowns in front of him every night for the past ten years. It was so different from what he used her to, he actually looked terrifying, as she remembered him from when she was a kid. He felt the change in her mood, felt how frightened she became in an instant. And without her even realizing he was by her side, in a flash, he towered over her against that thorny bush.

"It's okay my yuri, don't be afraid." He tried to soothe her, to coax her, but it didn't work that time. As if his voice had lost all of his fascinating power.

She tried to step back, only to puncture the naked skin of her arms with another thorn, a single drop of blood forming at her wound. It cascaded through her arm until it reached her hand. She felt it rolling down but her eyes were drowning in his. She couldn't look away, it didn't matter how frightened she actually was, her gaze couldn't leave his.

He licked his lower lips, the glow in his eyes darkening, and she didn't miss any of that. He swallowed hard, his eyes alternating between hers and her lips. He licked his once again, until he couldn't bear it one more minute. Carefully, he approached his face to hers, brushing his lips on hers.

"You’re bleeding Yuri." he whispered and she swallowed hard, her voice stuck in her throat. "Be careful, we wouldn't want to hurt that delicate flower."

Was he talking about her or about the roses behind her? She had no idea but she still blushed and he stepped back, leaving her some personal space again while she realized she actually had stopped breathing for several seconds now. He held his hand to her as he went sitting on the edge of the fountain.

She followed obediently, actually taking his hand in her as he pulled her toward him, startled by how hot she was compared to him. He made her stand between his spread legs, turning her so he could face her back. His eyes fell on the blood spreading on her arm, strings of red tarnishing the purity of her skin. Hypnotized by it he let his fingers travel from her hand to her forearms and the upper arms, brushing gently her skin in his path, ever so slowly, as delicate as he saw her. The scent of it was becoming intoxicating and he wished he could smell more, touch more, feel the thickness of the blood between his fingers, he wanted to taste her so badly. She smelled like lilies but would she taste like lilies too?

"Yuri." It escaped him, a murmur that he couldn't refrain from, it's all he was thinking about. Lily, Yuri. He didn't move, he didn't even try to act like nothing happened, he just fixated on the blood imprinting her skin. He hadn't smelled it in years but it smelled as divine as the first time he saw her. It was even more sacred than that day.

"What does Yuri mean?" She asked, clueless, as she stared at the bush where she actually hurt herself. Her voice startled him, he wasn't used to hearing her. He found that sweet, so sweet. She was all her blood was, he was sure of that and he wondered, for a second, if he wasn't just infatuated with her.

"Lily." He answered calmly, but if his heart was still actually beating he swore he would be breaking.

"Lily as the flower?" He only hummed at her as a form of answer. His thumb brushed the wound and she didn't react. He wished she would have hissed or whined, but she didn't, she only stayed still, staring at the bush. "Why?"

The more his thumb caressed her the more she relaxed into his touch, as if she wasn't terrified minutes before.

"Because-" He stopped, thinking of what he was about to say actually. "Just because. You don't need to know."

When he finally took his finger away, he brought it to his lips, allowing himself to taste, just for a bit, just a tidbit as his tongue licked it more than he should have.

The taste lingered in his mouth and thinking suddenly became hard, way too hard for the simple man he used to be. Worried by the absence of sounds he was making she turned back, facing him.

He looked at her from under, curled up on himself as he revelled himself in the flavour of her blood. Eyes dark and bloodshot, canines peeking through, long nails finishing his hands. When she realized what he was actually doing her eyes widened. His lips were stained with the liquid. For an unknown reason, she found him absolutely gorgeous. He looked so needy, it actually surprised her. How could the strong figure ensuring her at night look so weak under her like that?

Caught red-handed, he tried to compose himself to not lose the imposing presence he tried so hard to give himself these past few years. But the blood still on his lips, he couldn't behave decently. He felt so stupid, like a horny teenager, all he wanted was her.

Completely incautiously, she approached her fingers, wiping his lips and her blood away. When her fingers left his mouth he chased her, chased the heat of that alive body and the taste that was coming along, the taste he was losing. She could have touched his canine in that moment, she could have injured herself badly by unleashing that part of him. She hadn't noticed them but they were menacing to pierce through her weak skin and suck the life out of her. It's all he had been dreaming of all these years, he was so close to his goal, if only he dared to catch her.

But in the silence of the night a couple came to disturb their peace, distracting her attention away from him for a couple of seconds, acknowledging the two persons stepping into the garden. And when she eventually looked back at him he had disappeared, like he vanished into the night.

She cursed, startled by how quickly he was to leave. She knew he was able to do that, she was just not expecting him to do it tonight. She was so close, terrified but yet drowned to him, and now he faded without even telling her his name. She sighed, desperate as she sat on the edge of the fountain, trying to process what just had happened.

On his side, he cussed everybody who dared to put themself between himself and her. He was so close finally, if only he got a few more minutes he could have ravished her right here right now. How stupid he was to have hesitated even one second, he was getting weak and it was something that he couldn’t allow.

Following that event, the nights passed and looked all the same, dull, cold, and annoying. He didn't come for a total of nine nights, she counted them all. Nine nights were she was, in fact for the first time since her childhood, free from his gaze. She could have left, she could have brought someone home, she could have done all the things she doesn't dare to do when she knows he's lurking at her, but she did nothing.

On that ninth night though, she knew he was here. Despite the absence of melody, she could feel him, she could tell how disguised he was in the shadow, like he was actually for once ashamed of what he was doing. Because all he was, in fact, was a creep, lurking at a woman's window every night. And when it finally hit her all she could do was clench her legs. He was here for her, he was watching her every night, in that white nightgown, that little dress, revealing her naked body underneath, and he was here, and he was watching her.

Her legs clenched once again and she rolled into her bed, trying to chase her thoughts away but she was still feeling his presence. It was burning her, every ounce of the sheets her body was touching tingled. She rolled over and over, the image of that needy man, sucking on her blood, his fingers in his mouth like he was starving. She clenched her legs. Again. She was so petite under him, against the bush, her body hitting the thorns. Again. Was it the blood? Would he come for her if she was bleeding again? Again.

She wanted him to come for her, she wanted to ask him his name and feel his cold fingers on his arms once again.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She called for him, naturally, like he called for her but he didn't answer, he stayed in his darkness, unsure of what to do. Did she want him to devour her all? Did she know what he had planned to do?

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She called again, tempting him, playing with the little nerves he had.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

Like a plea, she called him, she called for his furtive touch, his calloused fingers, she called for him to get out of the darkness. And when he finally dared to step out of the corner, she realized that he wasn't outside like she thought he was. He was in her room. Like he did the first time he saw her wearing that ridiculous nightgown. Her eyes widened at her -expected- unexpected visitor.

He approached her bed as she straightened herself, switching positions to sit on her feet, revealing herself. His hands approached her face, his fingers caressing the top of her cheek and she shivered, the contact surprising her, his coldness contrasting with her hot body.

"Shh, it's too late to be afraid, Yuri." As always, his voice relaxed her and she leaned into his touch, her face chasing his hand until he cupped his whole cheek, his fingers reaching from behind her ears. His thumb stroked her face and she sighed, closing her eyes, like it was her missing piece. She didn't understand why but she felt herself ignite. She was burning and the more he gently caressed her face the more she was catching on fire.

In a movement, as furtive as always, he sat on the bed, the mattress not making a single sound as it was used to. When she finally opened her eyes back, she met his gaze and it all suddenly became hard to breathe. She wanted to call him, to whisper his name but she had no idea of who he was, so she only murmured a quiet "please." that looked more like a whine than anything else, it was a supplication. She didn't know what she was pleading for but she did, she needed to get freed from this, whatever it was, and she knew he was the one who was going to help her. It felt like evidence, he was the one who was going to free her from that painful agony.

"Please what? Tell me, my sweet lily." He asked, his free hand cupping her other cheek and she closed her eyes again, expecting a kiss that never came. Why would he have kissed her? She didn't know, but she knew he was about to, she saw it, she felt it, she-

"Kiss me." She asked for it, the words escaping her without her consent, like he compelled her to do so. "Please kiss me-"

She wanted to call his name again but was dismissed that right, her lack of knowledge of his person showing. It scared her once again, how ready she was to give herself to that man she barely knew, how she let him watch her all these years, it wasn't herself, she was scared of him but why did it feel so good at that very moment?

But thoughts became long forgotten when she felt his lips on her, chastely moving in rhythm, like another chord. It's all she needed to lose it, she didn't think anymore, a violent moan leaving her when he pressed himself even more on her. Their two bodies flopped on the bed, her back hitting the mattress as he quickly settled himself on top of her without ever breaking the kiss. He could have done whatever he wanted with her, she was putty in his hand at that very moment, she belonged to him the second he put his hands on her nine nights ago.

He kissed her as if his life depended on it, as if he wasn't already half-dead, he was drowning in her scent. The more he kissed her the more she whined into his arms, her scent becoming stronger and stronger. He was drunk on her, he could feel her blood rushing through her whole body, he could hear how fast her heart was beating, how hot and aroused she was just from his kisses. When he finally broke apart for real, letting her gasp for air, he analyzed her, the needy look she was giving him, as if she needed this as much as he did, as she didn't need to live, what was her life in comparison to man's touch?

She wanted to ask for his name again, and finally, as if he read her mind, he breathed out, his mouth drawn to her neck.

"Noah." His mouth attached itself, almost automatically to her skin and he dared, just so little, press his teeth against her carotid, enough to just feel the blood pump under his touch.

She tilted her head back at the contact, sighing. "Noah." She repeated and he nodded, smiling in the crook of her neck as he travelled on her body. She was smelling so good, he was going crazy, the more he approached her heart the more excited he was. His lips landed on her clavicle, her cleavage and when he finally dared reach that devil gown, who taunted him so many times, he ripped it, freeing her chest from the fabric. He almost moaned at the sight of her bare body, like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life, and it was. She was almost glowing in his eyes, like she was coming straight from heaven and he wondered how it was possible for a creature of the devil like him to be able to reach for the gods through her.

"Noah." She called again, cautiously, like these words would hurt her if she said them too fast or too loud.

He hummed against her, his head already diving into her chest, his lips attached to her left breast he sucked on it, feeling her heart pump under him, feeling the blood coming to his mouth as he sucked a bit more vividly. Until he sucked enough for his teeth to pierce through her skin, her blood escaping her without her being able to contest or fight. All she could feel was the euphoria that his touch was giving her.

The taste of her was like a relief, it was the best thing he ever put in his mouth, after centuries of existence. It was the sweetest of the nectars. When he was still human he recalled once drinking a wine called "The Wine of the Gods." The best one ever created. But he swore it was nothing compared to her. Nothing could compete with that delicate sweetness, she tasted like she smelled and he couldn't stop. He wondered if her pussy tasted the same, his intrusive thoughts battling against him and his will to feed. He couldn't get his teeth out of her breast but god- her pussy, scented as divine as her blood and he wanted to taste her so bad.

He opened his eyes back but it was too late, she was already too far away from her pleasure, drowning in all the sensations she was feeling. When he finally collected enough will he left her chest, not without regrets, to pamper her with kisses, travelling through her stomach to reach her bare pussy. She didn't bother herself with underwear at night and he couldn't be more glad for that.

He kissed her pelvis, his mouth not leaving her skin for more than a few seconds. And when he finally dared to settle between her legs, when she automatically spread them for him, all he wanted to do was thrust violently into her and bite her neck until she would cry from the pain. But he did nothing of that, he gently bit her inner thigh, delecting himself with the so little blood he took.

Finally deciding to put his hands to good use, he grabbed her by the hips, his fingers sinking in their fat as he pushed her to his face. She squirmed under him, her hands reaching for his hair by instinct. All she wanted was to push him more and more on her, begging him to speed up his pace. She was dying for his touch, completely compelled and mesmerized by her predator, just like he wanted her.

But the predator liked to play too much. He only teased her, keeping his slow motions, nice and gentle, groaning when she would moan a little bit louder or push him a little bit too hard.

He was quick to get how her body worked and how she reacted in a certain way. Soon he had his two hands grabbing her legs to put them on his shoulders, his tongue pressed against her cunt with such fervour. His nose rubbed her clit, making her moan. Her hands immediately left his hair to cover her mouth, refraining from her sounds but he was quick to move, leaving his spot between her legs to reach her face, grabbing her hands to move them away from her mouth.

"Let me hear you Yuri, let me hear the holy sounds you make." Quickly, he regained his place back, his tongue pushing itself on her folds as she moaned again.

He was cold, all of his being was freezing but it was enough to make her burn under his touch. She desired him in a way that she never desired anybody, and yet she felt so away that she wasn't sure it was her who was feeling all these emotions. Her heart was ready to explode as she pushed his head deeper against her core. She moaned and he answered back, groaning vividly between her legs.

The closer she grew to her orgasm the sweeter she tasted, it was intoxicating, it was all too much. Until she came, rocking her hips on his face, quivering between his hands and crying his name for her own sake, to remember something tangible, like all of this was real. Because she felt completely out of her body, her conscience tore apart from herself.

Nonetheless, he kept eating her, he couldn't get enough of her scent, of her taste. If he wasn't a starved man before he definitely was one now. He only pulled apart when he heard her cry his name out, completely overstimulated. And when he finally dared to look at her he understood how fucked he was. Because there was no way he was turning back now, there was no way he was letting her run free into the wild again. He just needed her body over his, he needed to be inside of her for real, to feel her alive around him. At that very moment, he didn't care about anything else, he needed to feel how warm she was, how alive she was compared to him. And when he finally achieved that feeling, when he finally thrusted into her without a care in the world he almost immediately came from the sensation. Nothing ever made him feel alive like that, even not when he was actually alive.

She cried for him but at this point, every sound she made was long forgotten, he was already gone. He heard her heart beating, like a psychotic melody. It was maddening, the more he thrusted the more he heard it.

D♭, G♭, E♭ₘ and A♭ₘ.

She kept crying of pleasure, reaching for his embrace and when he finally held her between his arms she was ready to give up on her life. It was feeling all too good to be true, it wasn't her, she knew it, he was only chasing his own pleasure yet she was reaching her climax so quickly. Something wasn't right but it was too late to notice. Her arms around his back she held him closer, tightening her grasp on him to comfort herself.

She was doomed. She knew it, it was the end. She cried out, from the pain this time as she acknowledged her situation. He held her closer, feasting on her supplications, one of his hands reaching for her face, his thumb brushing away some tears."Shhh, it's okay Yuri. It's too late now." and before she could come he bit violently into her neck, the pain awakening immediately. It was violent, brutal, nothing like before. She felt her life escape her without being able to do anything while he continued to fete on her, unable to stop drinking from her, years of starvation just for that instant. But for him, it was all worth it, nothing had ever been as worth it as it was. It was delicious, excruciating all of his senses. He never felt so great in so many years. He loved those who were pure enough to be maidens, they really were a gift from the gods, descended straight from heaven and he was bringing her back to where she belonged. Away from the monstrosities of the earth. Away from himself who belonged to hell. Varney.

The chords used are from Masquerade by Versailles.

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | april 18 sock | words: 585

tw: slight nfsw, walking in on someone, swearing

“Stop leaving your socks all over the place!” Sirius heard from the first floor.

“Stop being a dick; they’re on my side of the room!”

“Oh, trust me, I can be worse!” And then there was a loud thud, probably Regulus throwing something at James to prove that he could indeed be worse.

Sirius sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. It had been like that since the beginning of the holidays, because everyone forgot to rent a place with six rooms instead of five, so that James and Regulus could sleep separately. When the two of them found out, they reacted in two different ways: James didn’t mind (It’s not like we’ll be spending a lot of time here); Regulus, on the other hand, threw a tantrum like a five-year-old (I can’t share a bed with this asshole for the next six weeks). Unfortunately, there was no other way, since neither of them would sacrifice a comfortable bed to sleep on a couch in the living room. So for the past two weeks, all ten of them were doomed to listen to the senseless arguments the two others provided.

They were all getting tired of it—they came to Italy to rest, not to feel like children while their parents were getting divorced.

“I swear to god, if they don’t stop until tomorrow, at least one of them won’t come back to London,” Barty grumbled, handing a cup of orange juice to each one of his boyfriends. The girls hummed in agreement.

They sat at the big table in the kitchen, having breakfast. Dorcas and Marlene listed all the places they could go to today, while Lily and Pandora were serving more pancakes and scrambled eggs.

“I think the gallery and chapel sound the best,” commented Mary, throwing a grape at Peter, which he caught with his teeth.

After that, they sat in a comfortable silence, chewing on their respective meals.

The silence was almost… too comfortable.

“Do you think they killed each other?” Sirius asked, breaking the moment of peace.

“Who cares? At least they’re quiet,” Evan replied, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Sirius turned to Remus, starting a silent conversation. After a few seconds, his boyfriend nodded and stood up, with Sirius following suit. They went upstairs, stopping in front of blue door. From behind them came quiet gasps and muffled words neither of them could understand.

The black-haired man knocked at the door gently. “Reggie? Prongs? Are you guys okay?” When, after nearly a minute, there was still no answer, he decided to enter the room.

“Guys, are you—what the fuck?” He was expecting everything: blood all over the place, black eyes, broken bones, shattered windows—everything except James holding one hand on Regulus’ throat, the other on his dick, his own probably inside Sirius' little brother.

All four of them froze, staring at each other with wide eyes, until the youngest finally grabbed the blanket laid in front of him, covering himself and James.

“Why the fuck would you come in without being allowed?” Regulus hissed.

“We thought you were dead,” Sirius answered, unnaturally calm. “I just wanted to check if you were alright.”

“Well, you know now, so get out,” the younger Black replied, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand. Sirius didn’t need much convincing to do so.

When Remus closed the door behind them, the shorter man turned to him.

“You know Moony,” he said, staring blankly. “I think I need to bleach my brain.”

[nobodyexpectsthe]

okay i'm going to do a veilguard critical post and i want to start it with this post by david gaider that has lived rent free in my brain since i read it.

and i want to be clear as i begin this rant that i am critical of studio leadership. not the development team themselves, because god fucking knows they tried.

i cannot emphasize enough that the game we got is not the fault of individual writers, or game designers, or any creative team leads. the issue came from people way, way, way above their heads.

and that is extremely important to remember that veilguard's active retooling had only been in play for, what, a year? from 2022 to 2023? when the games industry decided it was time for record layoffs?

where like their entire QA team got shitcanned?

and devs had to fight to get more than two weeks fucking severance?

if veilguard had remained an always online multiplayer experience i think it's story would have been praised, because the story was not meant to be the main draw. the gameplay and character customization was. any story in an online game that isn't an mmorpg is generally praised - even if its a stupid mystery box story where you're just drip fed tiny details that will take actual years to pay off.

in a singleplayer experience in a franchise that people went to because of it's storytelling the whole thing just falls so short.

but for me the issues went so much deeper.

i like most of the character concepts. i like most of the ideas the game was built on, but the execution made me angry.

needing to constantly leave and come back to the lighthouse to pop new quests was frustrating. if they dropped me in the middle of the hub it wouldn't have been so frustrating, but to talk to lucanis i have to go from one end of the map to the other.

there was nothing to do at the lighthouse besides that and i guess upgrading my armor. i can't talk to my companions. i can't even like - prog conversations between them? why can't i use my caretaker points to build out areas for my companions to hang out in, drop some fucking items in there associated with them, and maybe get the conversations i want to hear instead of lucanis talking about fucking coffee for the sixteenth time?

there's a dining room. why can't i use that to get ambient banter conversations?

why am i at the fucking mercy of what the npcs want to do?

so much of the gameplay felt like a holdover from the multiplayer version. things that wouldn't have bothered me as part of a game that was meant to be played in realtime, with idk the conversations being daily login incentives,

but nothing stood out to me as bad as the quest recaps did. the quest recaps actively fucked with my ability to get immersed and stay immersed. they were either clearly a holdover from when there were meant to be huge real time gaps between content drops or an extremely poorly thought out addition that really only made the stop-starts of every quest that much worse.

and the little pop-ups that reminded me why a character did a thing or felt a certain way were infuriating. that just happened. literally at the start of this quest.

the companion quests don't change. they come to conclusions on their own, and even if you try to sway them in another path it doesn't ultimately change anything? i think emmrichs is the only one you can drastically affect the outcome of.

like yes, game, you are not terribly complicated. i have a handful of choices so if a character is doing something or saying something directly related to a choice i pushed them to make, i would assume that's why.

except i had no actual choices. i have replayed dragon age 2 & inquisition multiple times just to see how different scenarios play out depending on my choices. i have played BG3 to fucking death to see how little dialogue options get called back.

i am not talking the grand sweeping choices at the end of the game. i am not talking about the four different endings - which i actually did not enjoy at all.

an ending where everyone dies because you didn't amass enough political power and/or recruit all the party members would have fucked hard actually.

and see, one of my favorite rpgs of all time is tales of symphonia. that's a jrpg. that has a set plot, a set way things play out, you cannot change it except for one small detail - your interpersonal relationships.

i do not need to drastically change the ending of the game, i need to feel like the little stones i throw make little ripples. i need to see that my actions, the person my character is, has an influence on the people around them, their willingness to stand with them and follow their orders, and veilguard didn't give me that.

what i got instead was the illusion of a choice.

what if instead of rook assigning people to missions (THAT IT HOLDS YOUR HAND THROUGH TO PICK THE RIGHT CHOICES) it came down to a matter of trust? what if you gave an order and rather than following it, your teammate / the faction decided you knew jack shit actually and deviated from the plan?

or what if their unhealed personal trauma actually came up in the thing that gets them killed? what if instead of it being cinematics, it was something you had to play through ala DA2? where you have the option to try to salvage the relationship one last time before they either die or get themselves killed?

why was i a fucking spectator in this game that was supposedly built around the strong bonds the veilguard had? because like the whole ~hero of the veilguard~ thing falls flat to me if their fatal flaw isn't ultimately what destroys them.

an ending where i got fed up with the same boring repetitive sidequests & didn't go back and forth from the lighthouse often enough to get

the fact that the game auto-saves at key choice points too is indicative that they know this is not a replayable experience.

looking @ corinne bus.che's departure from bioware and her statements, i don't have a lot of hope for the company. i think that she's saying in the politest way that things are still bad and she's moving on to greener pastures and hopes that the studio can fix itself.

and i say this because i'm remembering the actual months of all hands meetings where execs said the same thing over and over again right before they dropped that projects were being scrapped, games were being sunset, and layoffs were imminent. and my boss, bless him, was trying to reassure me that my team was safe.

only for him to log in one day and find out that someone above his head had laid off team members without his say or input. and how this happened again, and again, until i was the one sending him a text message bc i'd been called into a meeting with someone above his head. my whole team was devastated, our already small size reduced even further, and the workload became that much more stressful to everyone left.

and it kept coming. the way the SLT undervalued anything that wasn't their own fucking jobs was disgusting. heaven forbid you don't lose your bonus. but sure, okay, hq needed that luxury spa the almost entirely remote team will never see.

i had to sign stuff saying i could never disparage the company so i could get my severance.

i remember sitting in allhands meetings with my team, watching the divide between the people who actually make the fucking game and engage with the audience & the people who call the shots grow bigger, and bigger, and bigger until we had a blowout during a meeting regarding our bonuses structure changing THREE DAYS after another project was cancelled AND THE COMPANY HIRED AN ADDITIONAL CEO.

i have been the person in meetings with an exhausted dev team, listening to the writer say they want to do more but the studio won't let them. i've seen the artists showing off work they know will never see the light of day because their project was doomed. i've seen the team lead with defeat in his eyes saying they desperately trying to explain to SLT (who had no knowledge or care about the IP what the project needed to succeed) only to be dismissed.

and like, that might not be her energy. that might be my disillusionment with the industry speaking, but it's so fucking sad. so fucking sad.

she's currently getting a lot of flack but like - it's not her fucking fault my dudes!!! the game was pushed out on a crazy timeline, there were layoffs, she inherited so many problems.

i hope she uses her title and experience to find a better studio to work at and has the chance to make the crpg she wanted to. i hope that studio understands that you can't just staple trends from other games & genres onto yours and make it a success, because bioware & EA sure don't.

i genuinely hope baldur's gate 3 and larian's entire approach to game design forces these grifting finance bros out of the industry and i wish so desperately the discourse would focus on how that is the fucking problem here. but i don't think it will.

i'm going to be so surprised if bioware isn't stripped and sold for parts after mass effect 4 drops. i've seen it too many times at this point.

ips are only as strong as the people making them. and if you have created an environment where these people are leaving in droves, or are constantly anxious for their job security, or you keep interrupting it and retooling it to chase a trend, you've fucked yourself and don't even understand why that trend is popular.

why in the fuck is someone going to pay for knockoff of a better game that's doing numbers with an active playerbase? do you seriously think that the dragon age skin you put over it does anything for that?

i am so tired of the conversations around this game centering on how 'wokeness' ruined it. it didn't. these have always been progressive games. the issues with vg came from people far removed from the writing, design & art process. i think a lot of the clunkiness of the game came from the fact that these stories had no fucking time to develop and grow naturally, they had to be shotgunned bc they had no time to do anything else.

when all is said and done, my honest impression of veilguard is that its a miracle it came out. it is. it genuinely is. few games get out of development hell after that long, let alone in a playable state with any redeeming qualities.

but that miracle isn't enough for me to forgive all of its faults. the slog that was act 2 damn near killed me. there was no narrative pacing with the companion quests. there was... no quests outside of the companion quests. it would have been one thing if i was doing a main story quest and then everybody had feelings related to that quest, but i think 99 percent of act 2 is purely fixing everyone's emotional problems so they don't die in the final battle.

anyway the last thing i'll say is i've seen a lot of people criticizing the team for fluffing the project up. and... man, i hate to tell you this, but they can't say anything about it right now. they just can't. and more than that, like... they are allowed to have pride in what they managed to pull together. the fact that game came out at all is, and it cannot be understated, a miracle.

if there are expirations on their NDAs & non-disparagement clauses, we're going to get some tea in 5 - 15 years.

[translatemunson]

cat and mouse for a month or two or three • ttfd

chapter eight of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, brains is recovering, idiots in love, short chapter after a huge hiatus I'M SORRY OK , no proofreading otherwise i’d never post this (lmk if i missed something)

A new routine took place. You spend most days inside your apartment, classes online since they were checking all the buildings on that side of the campus, on medical leave from your job because, on top of the broken ribs, they wanted you to recover from the burnout you got yourself into. That also meant you were taking mandatory therapy sessions, and maybe after a month they could let you work again. It was like being grounded from what kept you fueled in your late twenties.

Their first mistake was giving you way too much free time while bored. You wrote pages upon pages of your thesis in your first week. The moment you hit send and sat to wait for your professor’s notes, you found out you couldn’t reorganize your home because it was considered too much effort for your broken ribs. Your kitchen became the latest victim.

But a real victim to all your boredom was one door down the hall, who probably regretted giving you a copy of his keys — to be used just in case of an emergency.

“What the hell are you doing, Brains?” It was the third time this week that Buck arrived at his home and found out you were there, just casually chilling,

“Reading!” You were upside down on his couch, a romance book in your hands.

“I don’t think this position is good for your ribs. Can you sit like a normal person?”

“No. It’s boring. Also, I’m gonna babysit Chris tomorrow, so I’m hijacking your Xbox.”

“Why aren’t you doing that at your place?” He pointed to your silly reading position.

“Because I needed to tell you about your video game. Are you hungry? There’s some lasagna in your fridge.”

“Did you make it?”

“Yeah. Now shut up, they’re finally confessing their feelings for each other.”

Buck turned the TV on just to get some noises into the silent apartment. You were too busy with your book, he was too afraid of doing something he would have regretted later. Somewhere between his first and second plate of lasagna, you put the book aside and started to pay attention to the news.

“Big rescue, hm?”

“I don’t know why they keep building towers with paper thin structures and too many glass windows with shitty fire alarms. What happened to the good ol’ bricks and stones?” He was eating at the table, probably destroying the food in record time.

“Excellent question. I’ll look it up and give you an answer tomorrow”

“You’re really bored, aren’t you?”

“Oh, what gave it away?”

“It’s definitely not the same book from yesterday, you cooked a lasagna as big as the ones Bobby feeds us, you’re gonna babysit Chris on Eddie’s day off.”

“He needs to run some errands, and Chris hasn’t been feeling good lately, probably just the flu. So I offered my services for the day. What’s wrong with that?” You stared at him. Was he cuter upside down than the other way around?

“Nothing, it’s just… are you ok?”

“Please, don’t pull a therapist on me, I already had my mandatory session today. I swear I’m ok, I’m just bored of doing nothing. No adrenaline, no deadlines.”

“You’re really addicted, hm?”

“What can I say, Buckley, I wasn’t made to stay still.” As soon as the local news was over and football started, you moved back to your book. Buck got up and went for some beers. “I’m just gonna finish this and I’ll see myself out.”

“I’m gonna charge you rent for my couch.” He sat on the floor, right next to your face. Third time in his living room was a charm, right?

“Wasn’t the lasagna enough?”

“I thought that was for my Xbox. Want one?”

“No, thanks.”

You opened your book again, but the sudden proximity with Buck was the only thing you could focus on. The five o’clock shadow, the red birthmark on the left side of his face, the brightest eyes you’ve ever seen… Staying alone with your thoughts for too long was making you think of things you once judged impossible.

It was a split second, but he caught you red handed, staring at him. You smiled and moved your eyes to the pages of your book, not sure where you left off.

One big hand snatched the object from you. You turned to your side to complain and retrieve it, giving Buck the perfect opportunity to bring your lips close and kiss you. It barely turned into a deep kiss before you took some space to process what was happening. Your action made Buck a little confused, blinking his eyes and nervously messing with his own hair.

Your ribcage started hurting, so you moved your body carefully until you were sitting on the floor, face to face with him. Giving him enough time to change his mind, to say he actually didn’t mean it. Because how could he kiss someone like you?

You thought you’d never see a glimpse of fear on the eyes of one of the most fearless men you knew. Buck was too stunned to say anything, his full, pink lips slightly open. Your hand found the curve of his neck, your cold skin over his boiling hot veins.

You leaned in for another one. He pulled you closer carefully. However, it was nearly impossible to avoid the messier, helpless kisses. Evan Buckley was finally taking over your mind, maybe even your whole body.

Both of you had to move back a little, taking quick breaths after such intense kisses. You rested your hands on his shoulders and smiled.

“Did it really take me getting trapped in a burning building for us to have the courage to do this?” You bit your lower lip, trying to avoid him noticing your blushed cheeks.

“I don’t know about you, but I wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed.

And it caught you by surprise. So Maddie was really telling you the truth.

“Wait, how long?” He avoided eye contact and you laughed. “No, Buck, please. Tell me.”

“Do you remember that shift I got your number with Eddie? So,” he took a deep breath, “I was planning on asking you out that day, but I just… I chickened, ok?”

“And right after that you ate all my cupcakes when I was at Maddie’s. Off to the best start, Buckley.”

“Not my best move, ok?” He laughed. “How many months ago was it?”

“No clue, to be honest.” You pecked his lips again.

Buck’s arms held you close, not willing to let you go. His lips were just inches away.

“Should I remind you of my doctor’s orders?” you whispered.

“You’re never walking into danger on my watch again.” Buck finally let you go, but it was written in his face it wasn’t what he wanted. His touch lingered a little longer, a little too deep. And you were sure you were mirroring his actions.

“I know.” You got his video game console and your book. “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, Brains.”

You leaned over, leaving a goodnight kiss and a promise to come back to whatever you just started.

+++

“Ok, do you want some snacks? I,” you checked your storage once again, noticing how you should’ve added “do groceries” to your list. “How are we feeling about popcorn?”

“I love popcorn!” Chris replied, his focus on the TV screen.

“Popcorn it is.” You turned the machine on and measured the serving. You heard knocks on your door. “Just a second!”

Maybe Eddie was back because Chris forgot something in the car? No, he had everything in his backpack. You opened the door, but your eyes stayed on the kid on your couch. “Really, Eddie, don’t worry. I can watch him for as long as you need and… Buck.”

“Hi.” Even if he looked like he just left the shower, his voice sounded like he ran a marathon and stopped at your door.

“Buck!” You both heard Chris from the couch. “Are you joining us?”

“Only if Brains let me.” He smiled, waiting for you to invite him in.

“How could I say ‘no’? Come in, we are playing video games and having popcorn.”

“You can play with me!”

“I’ll be there in a sec, Chris. I just need to talk to Brains first,” he pulled you aside and out of Chris’ view. Not like the kid is paying any attention to you, anyway. “Hey there.”

“Hi. Why do I have a feeling you’re here to babysit me?” You move to your kitchen, rushing to find the popcorn bucket in your cabinets.

“Can you blame me? You have two broken ribs, self diagnosed burnout syndrome,” you mumbled, “ok, your therapist said you have it, and you’re babysitting Chris on a day you’re supposed to wake up after 3.”

“It’s just for a few hours, and he’s not like Jee-Yun,” you pointed out the reality: Chris was just a little bit sick and Eddie didn’t want him to be alone. “So you’re here to see if I have plans for today.”

“Kinda.” He opened the top cabinet and gave you the bucket. “Do you?”

You elbowed him on the torso, playfully.

“Watch your step, I know his reputation.” You pointed to Chris over your shoulder. “But the answer to your question is no.”

Buck smiled, satisfied with himself. “Hey, Chris, orange or apple juice?”

“Apple, please! I’m crushing you!” The kid's voice indicated a promise to end Buck’s character.

“Ok, buddy, if you say so,” he turned to you and whispered, “so it’s a date?”

“Yes, Buckley. Now are you gonna help me with Chris or not?” You served two glasses of apple juice.

“Sure thing, but I might need to run some errands later because,” and he stopped himself. “You’ll see.”

a/n: hi is there anyone here still? i know guys, i was gone, no sign of life, but hey, i'm back (i hope so). IT FINALLY HAPPENED! i had to make this chapter shorter than usual because otherwise it would be too big. so that's it. see ya soon!

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello!! Miguel is living in my brain rent free atm. May I request a story with him? with a reader who is a little younger than him and is shy and nervous and thinks pffftttt I have NO chance with him but he is always more gentle with them because he senses their anxiety and they eventually get together uwu

But please ignore this if I’ve missed you saying that requests are closed heh thank you!

Aww!! It’s a whole “grumpy x sunshine ☀️” 🥹

When he first met you, he was intrigued. A decent fighter, can hold your own, but also very to yourself

Randomly compliments to your skills here and there get you flustered, which amuses the oh so not arrogant leader

becomes a whole thing where he randomly compliments you just to get a reaction out of you

He’s ABSOLUTELY not a huge people person (what gave that away 🤪) but it’s cute to see you interacting with the others, or the rare times Miguel gets to talk to you

He does note the age differences between you both because “roasting” can also be a love language, be it between you two or the rest of the Society just watching how you two act (like a soap opera)

This whole “dancing around” goes on for days, weeks, months until he eavesdrops on you talking to Lyla prior to an anomaly you had to take care of

“I know I have this assignment, but are you sure this is for me, Lyla? I mean, I know Miguel has more experience to him, and asks a lot of us, but—I just don’t want to be a disappointment to him.”

Insecurities do eat away at Miguel sometimes because of his past, but hearing you put it into words sinks into his mind and heart, replaying over in his head.

on the DL, he follows you as you head out to get to work, telling himself he’s just “keeping an eye out”

not as stealthy as he thinks (you have Spidey sense and he canonically doesn’t) you figure out he’s been tracking you

“Oh no—did Lyla tell you I was out? I swear k can handle this one Miguel, you don’t have to babysit me—!”

A man of few words, Miguel pulls you in for a tight hug before you feel his chest reverberating as he speaks

“I heard what you were saying earlier, talking to Lyla, and you’re not annoying. I know you can do this, and I trust you. Just wanted a chance to say that…”

Melting into his touch just a little bit, you let his words sink in and enjoy this little moment for now

“—is that all you want to say?”

once you gets together, you’re his favorite person. The best person! Stress melts away when you hold him

[coff33notforme]

Atsv characters reaction to you calling them baby girl

A/n: Just silly little headcannons because this prompt has been living in my head rent free, also I’m adding Atsv to my writing list so feel to request headcannons. Pairing: Pavtri, Gwen, Hobie, and Miguel and Gn reader (Separately, Platonic or Romantic, just random bullshit I don’t know, headcannons )

Gwen: You’d just returned from an incredibly draining mission, your body ached with each tense step you took

But as soon as you saw Gwen leaned over one counter tops in dining hall you couldn’t help but feel a childish joy bubble up from in your chest

Wrapping your arms around her waist as you embraced her with a smile you whispered 

“How’s my baby girl doing today?”

And she fucking freezes, your what?

You had never called her anything like that before, she can’t help but feel a smile of confusion creep it’s way onto her face

“What, what did you just call me?” 

She asks with a smile 

She’s not mad at all, just confused as to what brought this on, but after you repeat it she shakes her head with a breathy laugh as she turns to hug you

She doesn’t really mind the nickname, I mean it’s not like she’s in love with it, but she finds your strange nature oddly endearing

Whenever you use it In front of others though, lord have mercy, she’ll do that thing where she freezes up and her eyes go wide as she tries to cover up what you were saying to her

Hobie and Pav tease the shit out of her

One time just to test the waters you used the name In front of Miguel, when I tell you she froze, I mean like a deer in headlights as she turned to you with the biggest glare she could offer

Miguel only scowls at the two of you as he rubbed his temple with a frustrated sigh

“Y/n, Gwen, at least try to keep this professional.”

She wouldn’t talk to you for two weeks after that

But once her anger had subsided she found herself getting used it too it

Pavtri:

You were in the kitchen, bent cookie recipe with furrowed brows as your eyes scanned the paragraph of instructions your eyes fell upon one particular ingredient 

Sugar

How could you have forgotten to buy some? With a groan you shifted your body to face Pavtri who had been laid out on the couch watching you work for the past hour of so, he looked over to you confused as to way you seemed so distressed 

“Hey, Baby girl?” 

You called out to him in only the sweetest tone, he couldn’t fight the smile that managed it’s way onto his now brightly grinning face

“Yes? My prissy pissy poo poo bear?”

At his ridiculous nickname, you couldn’t help but to burst out with a loud fit of laughter, as you clutched your stomach you turned back to Pav

“What, did you just call me?”

“What did you call me?” 

He shot back with a lopsided smile 

From then on anytime you used the nickname he only racked his brain for something ten times as ridiculous as what you had called him

You’ve compiled a list of all the weird shit he’s said

Anytime he does this you let out a soft snort and a quiet fit of giggles following this, and this only encourages Pav to keep going, he’s addicted to the sound of your laughter

But honestly he loves the nickname, the idea of him being yours and yours only, makes his heart flutter 

Hobie:

The idea had come to you a long time ago, you had to admit, that you found the idea of calling Hobie baby girl, was at least a little funny to you if not incredibly tempting 

With a shit eating grin crawling up onto your face, you’d found Hobie in his room, tweaking his electric guitar as he sat on his bed

His head shot up at he noticed your frimillar  figure slinking through his door, he offered you a lazy smirk as he placed his guitar to his right as he opened his arms for you

“How ya been doin’ love?”

He drew out, you felt your smile only widened as you returned his embrace 

“Not too well without my baby girl.”

You teased as you placed yourself onto his lap, kissing his cheek with a hum

“Damn Right.”

Just accepts it, baby, he’s whatever you want him to be 

Malewife, babygirl, you name it he’s yours 

He just loves you call him yours, and if you want he’ll call you the same 

Miguel:

It was a dare, it was a dare, fucking Peter B Parker would be the death of you

Miguel was right there, this was all you had to do before you could leave, this was it, it was only for a moment and then you were gone

Miguel sat alone in his office, his head propped up in one arm as his eyes tiredly drifted through the monitor screens, with signature pout plastered to his face 

With a deep breath, you turned and shot Peter one last glare as he smiled to you offering you a encouraging thumbs up as you stepped into

Miguel’s office, Miguel slowly turned his office chair as he looked to you with a bored look on his face

“Do you want something, Y/n.” 

He spat, he didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh but as he saw you wince slightly at his tone he couldn’t help but sigh, as he ran his hand through his messy hair

“What is it?”

He asked slightly softer than before, you drew in a deep breath as you approached him cupping his face with one hand as you kissed his other cheek

“Nothing much, just wanted to see my baby girl.”

You muttered against his skin

Miguel tensed up as soon as those words left your lips

“What the fuck did you just call me.”

At first you froze, you didn’t know if he was going to blow up, but much to your surprise

Miguel pushed you away as he quickly turned away letting out a string of irritated groans and growls as he held his face in his hands

He was so fucking glad you couldn’t see what an effect your words had on him, his face had glown bright red 

There was no way, he actually fucking liked that, this only caused him to growl louder which had you flinching 

“Get out!” 

He barked which had you scampering out of his office as fast as possible, he needed to cool of now, but he was definitely going to make it up to you later

————————————————————

Requests are open teehee

[zafirosreverie]

Change the future part 3

part 1

a/n: Still on hiatus, just wanted to post something on the triplets' birthday

a/n2: I don’t even know what ship is this about anymore

__________________________

"At some point you're going to have to talk to her about this"

"But that won’t be today, Pepa"

Julieta said as she continued to cook, deliberately ignoring the way her pulse raced and her nerves stood on edge. She didn't even need to turn around to know that her sister was rolling her eyes as she leaned against the door frame. She knew the redhead was right, but she didn't have the will or the courage to face this thing she had been running from for weeks and only one thought lived rent free in her mind. 

Y/N’s back.

Her head was spinning just remembering the moment she saw you again. You were thinner, you had more gray hair, and a couple of new wrinkles around your eyes, but you were still her Y/N, warm, simple, and unbelievably beautiful.

She didn't like to admit that she probably would have thrown herself into your arms without thinking if it weren't for Isabela, who had been faster than her. Things hadn’t been easy for her and her two remaining daughters, so the moment they saw you appear over the hill, the three of them had run out of the house not caring that the rest of the family looked at them in confusion.

Isabela didn't even bother to slow her run before she crashed into the open arms you offered her and your joyous laughter made her stomach feel weird, as if thousands of butterflies woke up inside her. You had shared many things in your letters during all those years, and for that time, Julieta allowed herself to think that it was enough, but the universe showed her how wrong she was when, having you in front of her once more, her heart seemed to cry happy tears, as if a piece of her had finally come back to complete her puzzle.

She didn't have time to think about it though, not when her precious Mirabel, now so big and beautiful, lunged at her, hiding her face in her neck, crying and telling her how much she had missed her. It took her brain a moment to recognize that the young woman in her arms was, in fact, her youngest daughter, her baby, but once that settled in her mind, it was like all the weight of the world was finally lifted from her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, mija" she whispered, not even bothering to stop the tears that ran down her cheeks.

Mirabel had smiled waterily at her, whispering a soft thank you and saying again how much she had missed her. The girl dulled in her mother’s scent for a while, just trying to find the comfort she needed when she left so many years ago, and sighed happily before gasping and pulling away from her to run to the person behind her.

"Tía Pepa!!"

The brunette barely had a few seconds to laugh at the way her daughter was scooped up by the redhead before she herself was tackled by two familiarly strange and warm bodies.

"Tía Juli, look! I'm almost as tall as you!"

"Tía, tía, tía, I already know how to cook! And look! I cut my hair!"

"We brought you presents!"

"But mine are better because I love you more"

"Not true! I love her more!"

"No, I love her more!"

Julieta only managed to laugh softly while Joaquín and María clung to each of her arms and fought for her attention; they had five years of conversations to catch up with her after all. It really felt like time hadn't passed, even though your children were no longer the little babies she saw leaving that night. And then there was you.

You, who had smiled at her with complicity from your own tangle of hugs with Luisa and Isabela, you, who had been her rock, her pillar, and her cane even when you were so far away. You, who were stirring her entire being with your mere presence. You, who had approached her, hugged her when your children still held her arms hostage. You, who had whispered in her ear that little confession that haunted her dreams.

"I was dying to see you again, Eta...I missed you so much"

At that time, she had simply wriggled out of your children's grasp and returned the gesture, trying not to get lost on your warmth (even if she really wanted to cry), having you there was a huge relief, and all the stress and anxiety that had been eating at her insides for years was finally beginning to dissipate, her usually tormented mind was quickly being filled with a single thought: you were here.

"I missed you too" she managed to say, looking into your eyes with a small smile

"Yes, yes, will you get out of here please? There are people who also want to greet Y/N”

Julieta blinked a bit as her sister pulled her away from you and she didn't miss the way you looked at her half amused and half confused before returning Pepa's tight hug. She couldn't blame you, her sister had never been as close to you as she was, but she supposed that after everything that had happened since you left, the redhead's conception of you had changed. Well, at least you knew you had both of your sisters-in-law on your side.

“It's good to see you again, Pepa” you said as you separated “You haven't aged a bit…you don't even have gray hair! I need to know your secret"

"Oh, Y/N" she laughed "it's good to have you back"

"Her secret is to annoy me so that I’m the one getting gray hair and not her'' Julieta joked, crossing her arms.

You looked between the sisters while Pepa rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the brunette, a gesture that the older triplet returned. Your mind struggled to catch up on it all, because you really couldn't remember the last time you'd seen them tease each other so openly, it was pretty cute.

The rest of the meeting was pretty adorable too. Joaquín and María used Félix as a climbing pole, while the man just laughed, Luisa and Isabela told you as much as they could, asking you questions while you tried to pay attention to both of them. Julieta thought that her daughter would ask about Agustín, or that she would be upset with her for their divorce, but Mirabel was quick to give her a hug and assure her that she didn't blame her or cared about him.

The brunette didn't have to wonder much where her youngest daughter was learning to handle the situation, because at that moment you intervened, gently squeezing the girl's shoulder.

"He couldn't bear to lose a daughter so he abandoned the other two? Math ain mathin" you said.

Julieta had just smiled gratefully at you as you winked at her, and for a moment everything felt good, like things were really starting to go back to normal, the way they should be. And then…then you saw Bruno. 

The moment your eyes locked on the man hiding behind his mother would never leave her mind. Your eyes, which had been filled with warmth and kindness to everyone, turned cold and filled with a deep sadness that you desperately tried to disguise as disgust. And yet, she couldn't even pretend that she felt bad for her brother.

"Y/N" the man greeted awkwardly, forcing a guilty smile "...you look good."

"Bruno" you answered dryly

The air was charged with an intense tension that everyone could feel in their bones, as if it could be cut with a knife, or as if one wrong move could shatter such a surreal scene into a thousand pieces.

"It's good to see you again"

"I wish I could say the same"

Julieta felt in her own chest the dagger that you were burying on Bruno, who at least had the decency to look at the ground with remorse, but she knew you better.

It wasn't that you wanted to be cruel to the man you had loved more than life, but precisely that love you had for him had hurt you too much, it had destroyed you and it had hurt your children too. You were only trying to protect the hearts you had worked so hard to repair.

"What are you doing here?" Alma asked, looking at you with hate

"I came to see my family" you answered with the most neutral voice you could, but your hands were shaking

"This is no longer your family"

"Mom-" the older triplet tried to intervene.

"You shut up!" The older woman yelled, making everyone jump "Wasn't it enough for you to help this damn woman break the family?! Now you welcome her back with open arms?! After she stole my grandchildren?! Your own daughter?!"

"I didn't steal anyone! They are my children" you defended yourself.

You really didn't want to cause a scene, especially with all the children present, and because more than once you had to comfort Mirabel after waking up to the recurring nightmare involving her grandmother yelling at her. But that woman drove you mad with extreme ease.

"They would have been better here!" Alma replied "Away from your wicked hands. They belonged here, they wanted to stay here!"

"That's not true! My children wanted to go with me!"

"You had no right! They are Bruno's children!"

"He abandoned them!" Julieta yelled, making everyone look at her.

She could feel her heart racing, blood pooling in her cheeks, and a single look at her brother told her that she had finished erasing the faint ghost of what had once been her relationship with him, but she didn't care.

She couldn't care, not when she could see out of the corner of her eye how Mirabel was hiding behind you, how Isabela tried her best to appear calm but her hands moved as if she could still command an army of plants to defend her sisters.

Not when she could see Pepa and Felix trying to create a weak barrier with their bodies between their children and Alma, when Dolores hugged Camilo as if he was a little child in the hope that no one would hurt her brother again.

And especially not when she could feel your own fear, sadness, and despair as Joaquín and María clung to her own sides, suddenly terrified of who had once been a loving grandmother to them. Everything was wrong, everything was damaged beyond repair, there was nothing left for her to break, but she still had a family, a broken one, but a family nonetheless and she had to protect them, no matter from whom.

"How dare you talk about your brother like that?" Alma whispered dangerously "how dare you when you allowed your daughter to be kidnapped?!" that seemed to wake you up.

"Bruno left without saying anything, without caring about us, Julieta just protected us, all of us" you said, placing a hand on your sister-in-law's shoulder.

You didn't know if it was a bad choice of words or action, perhaps both, but you could see the moment when your mother-in-law's eyes flashed with an intense fire fueled by hatred and resentment. You barely managed to see her hand in the air and by intuition you closed your eyes, waiting for the blow.

"Don't you ever dare-"

 But it never came.

"IT'S ENOUGH!" 

You opened your eyes to see Julieta holding Alma's hand firmly, preventing it from getting to you. Julieta, the golden daughter of the Madrigal family, the sweetest and most loving woman you'd ever meet, defying the woman who once commanded respect with her mere presence. Although, was it really respect? Or was it fear? You thought that, deep down, it was the latter.

It really was a surreal scene, as if everything was frozen around you. But a voice in the back of your mind told you that it shouldn't surprise you so much, after all, this was also the woman who had made one of the most difficult decisions of her life in order to protect her daughter, the one who had broken blood ties in order to keep the rest of her family safe, the one who, no matter how much it hurt her to be separated from her brother and mother, still got up every day for the others’ sake.

No, it definitely shouldn't surprise you that if anyone had the strength to face Alma and everything that entailed, it was precisely the one who was once the brightest star in the family constellation.

Julieta Madrigal was many things, beautiful, brave, strong, maternal, affectionate and loyal, but she also hid a wolf inside her, one that was already fed up with seeing how her pack was threatened. She was ready to get the fangs out, and you were beginning to see why the rest had trusted her to be the head of the family.

"You insolent-"

"I SAID THAT’S ENOUGH!" the brunette growled, still holding her mother's hand "I've been patient with you, mother, but not anymore."

You could hear a couple of gasps behind you, and you weren't too surprised when Pepa approached you like a scared little girl while Mirabel hugged her. If you didn't know that the miracle was gone, you would think that the icy wind that enveloped you was your sister-in-law’s fault.

"Let go, Julieta-"

"I'm not going to let you talk like that to Y/N" she replied, you could see that she was squeezing the older woman's hand tightly, and from Alma's expression, it was obvious that it hurt, but it seemed like no one could move as you witnessed "the next time you raise your hand to her, me, or anyone in this family, it will be the last time you have a family"

That was a sentence that you yourself could feel in your bones. There was absolutely no trace of compassion or kindness in the older triplet's voice, nor did it leave any doubt that she would keep her word. It was a perfect ultimatum, one that even Alma seemed to understand, because she didn't utter a word as her daughter released her and walked back to the house.

The rest of you looked at each other for a few seconds before Pepa, with Mirabel still in her arms, went after her sister, causing the rest to follow her, including your children, who passed by Bruno without even looking at him, and ran to reach the hands of their favorite aunt. Your mother-in-law just muttered something about going with the Guzmáns and she walked away, disappearing into the night.

Only you and Bruno were left, both looking at each other with surprise, doubt and a little fear. Your eyes seemed to ask a thousand questions but neither of you understood what they were. In the end, you simply sighed and lightly hugged the man who, you must have reminded yourself, was still your husband.

"This wasn't how I expected tonight to go" you confessed lightly.

"It was something that was destined to happen" he whispered "if this didn't explode before it was only because Juli always had the patience of a saint... but I guess everything has a limit"

"I'm so sorry" you said to yourself, guilt beginning to rise in you "if I hadn't-"

"Don't, it wasn't because of you" he smiled a little "...things have been tense between them since before I even met you."

"Really?" you frowned "but...it seemed like she was the favorite daughter"

"She was the closest to the perfect doll mom had in mind" he corrected you "And it only got worse when we turned 5"

"When you got the gifts?"

"Yes" he sighed and looked at his hands "Pepa and I suffered a lot for our gifts, but we always knew that Julieta had it worse"

"Why?"

"Because she's the one who looks the most like dad" he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world "If she hadn't been born a woman, I assure you, she would be his living portrait"

You thought about it for a moment. You had seen Pedro Madrigal's portrait many times, and although you had never paid much attention to physical details, you had always believed that he radiated a warmth that you only knew from his eldest daughter. It made sense that Alma would have seen the ghost of her late husband in her, and at that moment, something clicked on you.

"And Julieta's gift allowed her to help the community like no one else could" you looked him in the eye "Despite the exhaustion and fatigue, she was always ready to help others... like your father"

"That's right" he agreed.

"But...her gift made her absorb others’ pain" you continued, with the pieces falling into place in your mind quickly "she was in constant suffering...Alma made her reenact Pedro's sacrifice every day"

"And Pepa and I couldn't do anything"

You looked at Bruno for a moment. Despite being the youngest, he looked terribly tired, his eyes swam in deep sadness, his hands trembled and he looked incredibly fragile. Your heart forgot all about anger and disappointment, and was quickly filled with the same affection you had felt for him the first time you met him, a tender and childish love, pure and sincere. He was a brother who felt guilty for not protecting his sister.

"You love her" you said, it wasn't a question.

"As you don't have an idea" he answered anyway "when I came back, it was her arms that I wanted to feel, not mom's" he admitted "but she was furious with me, and with good reason. I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have left you or the children, I shouldn't have allowed mom to treat Mirabel like that...I should have done things differently...but that doesn't matter now"

You looked at him sympathetically and put a hand on his shoulder so that he looked at you. He seemed so lost, like a kid who has broken something and didn't know how to apologize to mom. Yes, there were too many things that maybe he could have done differently, you too. But that no longer mattered, time was not going to come back and all you could do was start walking towards the best option you had now, and you both knew that that option had a name.

"Have you tried talking to her?" you asked softly

"Mom is always by my side" he said "And I n-never have the courage to talk to her when we're alone, I…I just don't want her to hate me more"

"She doesn't hate you" you said immediately "she could never hate you... you're her baby brother, and we both know that deep down, there will always be a place in her heart for you, no matter how hard Alma tries to keep you from getting back on good terms with her."

"I feel like I've failed her too much" he murmured, looking at the ground "It doesn't matter what I do anymore, our relationship is broken beyond repair...B-but I love her, that's why I try to keep mom busy with me and leave the rest of us alone. I love her and Pepa, and-and I love our family, my nephews, my nieces, my children...and you"

Your cheeks warmed at the last words, and by the way his eyes looked everywhere but at you, you knew he hadn't expected that confession to slip out of him either, at least not at the moment. You smiled and hugged him again, trying not to let the discomfort touch you.

"Talk to her, Bruno" you said "I'm sure you can fix things...so can we" you smiled

He looked at you hopefully and slowly smiled back, walking silently beside you as you went back to the house. You both knew this wasn't a mend, that there was still too much going on between you, but at least you were headed in the right direction. After all, you'd already fallen in love with him once, who said it couldn't happen twice?

______________________

Except that the first time you hadn't had your sister-in-law's face on your mind, nor had you had a little five-year-old nephew rock your entire world with a simple question.

You really couldn't blame the little guy. Antonio was just a child trying to catch up with the changing situation of his family, he was learning to live with some cousins and an aunt he never knew and you knew you had to be patient with his questions.

You had to admit that he was adorable, and despite Pepa's teasing, it was nice to have him behind you all day. Joaquín and María had become his best friends immediately and it was obvious that he was replacing your son as Mirabel's favorite cousin.

Speaking of your children, both of them were making a titanic effort to stay away from their grandmother, but they were spending more and more time with their father, which seemed to be the first steps towards Bruno becoming part of the "good side" of the family again, as the children liked to call it.

Your relationship with him was still in the mending process, but at least you could say you were friends again, which seemed to relieve Pepa, one less battle to fight between her siblings, you guessed.

The problem was Julieta.

She was still your favorite sister-in-law and your best friend, without a doubt, but things were starting to get weird for you when you realized that she was slowly becoming your favorite person too. You seemed unable to stop your smile every time you saw her and your heart raced when you heard her laugh.

It was a terribly familiar and terrifying feeling, because you knew that she shouldn't have that effect on you, that you shouldn't feel with her what you once felt with Bruno. And yet you couldn't stop.

As much as you tried to lie to yourself, it was obvious that you were always trying to be with her, whether it was helping her cook or just chatting with her over coffee, it didn't matter, you just wanted to be close to her. You felt bad for a while, but then you started noticing the way she would blush every time you smiled at her or how she would look at you when she thought you weren't paying attention.

You were both playing a dangerous game, but it somehow felt so…natural, like that was the only logical path for you. You didn't expect that to be confirmed by the miracle itself.

It was one afternoon when, a few days after finishing the reconstruction of Casita, you and Julieta were sitting in the kitchen, just talking, you were telling her about the first dress that Mirabel made when Camilo ran in, his eyes full of emotion and fear in equal measure.

"Tías, you have to come quickly" he told you

"What's going on?" Julieta asked, even as you both were already getting up

"You have to see it for yourself"

You and the brunette looked at each other curiously for a second before hurrying after your older nephew. The rest of the family was already there and you only had to look in the same direction to understand the commotion. The candle was back.

Well, not exactly. The candle itself was there, but it was out. Still, you knew what that could mean for your family, you knew what they could get back if they managed to make it shine again. The question was, how?

"Mom, you have to take it" Mirabel said excitedly

"What?"

"Think about it Juli" Pepa agreed "you're the new head of the family, you should be the one to protect the candle now... right?"

"I… I guess"

Julieta looked at you for a moment, and you could see the doubt and anxiety in her eyes, so you just smiled and nodded, hoping that was enough comfort for her. The brunette returned your smile before approaching the candle. Her hands trembled and you did not doubt that memories of when she received her gift, more than 45 years ago, passed through her mind.

You all held your breath as the older triplet's hands carefully took hold of the candle and a current passed through you. It was soft and warm, just like a tickle. You waited a moment, but nothing else happened. You could see the disappointment in the rest of the family, especially the brunette, but they all faked supportive smiles.

"Maybe we need to call-"

"No Juli, we don't need her"

You were a bit surprised by Pepa's tone, but you could understand. Alma hadn't been back since the night you returned to Encanto, taking refuge with the Guzmans ever since. It hurt a little that this distanced Dolores from Mariano, but no one could deny that everyone breathed more peace since she was gone. It didn't seem strange to you that they refused to call her now.

"It's because tía Y/N isn’t close" Antonio said suddenly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

"Excuse me?" you blinked

"Abuela's candle was lit because Abuelo loved her" the boy explained.

You all looked at him like he was growing another head, but deep down, you all wanted to know the reasoning behind that little head. After all, the little ones always have the most creative solutions.

"What does that have to do with tía Y/N, Antonio?" Mirabel asked softly

"Tía Y/N loves tía Julieta" he said "the candle has to light if she's around her girlfriend, right?"

You didn't even need Dolores' gift to hear a pin drop, not when the room was deathly silent. You looked at Julieta out of the corner of your eye and you could see that her face was redder than a tomato, and you doubted that you were better. Your heart was racing like crazy, your hands were sweating and you could feel the anxiety building up in you.

How could a five-year-old boy understand better than you the forbidden feelings that had been blooming in you for your sister-in-law? Had you been too obvious? Did the others notice it too? God, you didn't even want to look at Bruno.

"Mami! mami!"

María's voice brought you out of your thoughts and you looked at her worriedly. Your daughter just looked at you in amazement and pointed with her little hand to the place where your attention should be. You hadn't even realized that you had approached Julieta, but now you were facing each other, with the candle between you and a small flame sprouting. 

“It can’t be” you heard Isabela whispering while Pepa gasped

The moment you took a step back, the small flame went out. The brunette looked at you for a second before slowly approaching you again, causing the candle to relight. It wasn't a strong, magical glow like the one it had before the whole disaster, but it was a promise that you’d get the miracle back.

Except that neither you nor Julieta wanted to think about what the miracle was asking of you, or what that meant for both of you and your respective families.

[straykids-97]

Chan Drabble 💭✍🏻

Chan's been living rent-free in my head for the last two weeks and I can't get him out ugh

I was watching some old stray kids content while cleaning my room and well, uh, long story short, thought of something heh...

Imagine shyly approaching Chan while he's working on your couch. He's not wearing a shirt, and the loose pair of shorts he had on did very little to cover him. He doesn't notice you at first, but when he does, he does a double take. His tongue is over his bottom lip as he scans you. "What's wrong, baby?" He notices your anxiety quickly, as he usually does. You watch as Chan sets his work to the side.

You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you come to stand near him. "I, um... Was going through some of my boxes while unpacking..." You trail off, heat filling your cheeks. He raises an eyebrow, "Ok... And?" You clear your throat, "Um... And I found this..." You offer your hand out to him, revealing what the cause was of your embarrassment. He doesn't know what he's looking at at first, and he giggles once, "What is this?" He takes it from your open palm and flips it over to examine it. His mouth falls open, "Is this... Flavored lube?" The question makes your face turn bright red. Chan giggles and turns it over, reading the label. "When did you get this?"

"A while ago... I honestly forgot I still had it." You admit with a shrug, feeling incredibly awkward. He peeks up at you and returns his gaze to the bottle. "Does it expire?" He asks, still reading the label. "I'm not sure if lube expires, honestly." You fidget with the hem of your shirt, eyes on your nervous fingers. Chan, as always, notices.

He pulls you toward him, wrapping his warm arms around you, "Why did you show me?" His voice is low, teasing. "I-I dunno-"

"You want to try it? Hmm? Think it might be fun?"

Somehow, between then and now, you find yourself between Chan's thighs, hands digging into his muscles as he grips a fistful of your hair, groaning as he rolls his hips into your face. "Jesus- baby." He groans, eyes rolling back into his head. He pulls away long enough for you to breathe, and for him to apply more lube. "We should have tried this sooner."

I have brain rot. Someone help me. I need Jesusㅠ

©️straykids-97

[moodymisty]

heyyooo! love your work! big fan! wondering if i might be able to request Crosshair with a breeding kink pretty please? this man lives in my head rent free and the brain rot is fkn real

< You are here | Part 2 >

Author's note: Ohhh, a challenge. I like. >:3 I will admit I didn't like Crosshair much at first, but he's been chipping away at me for ages and now I have the brain rot too so sameeeeeee

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, What I would consider subtle breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy but not actual pregnancy, Unprotected sex, Creampies, Crosshair being a pouty little shit, Pre-Echo(sry bby), one mention of smoking though it can be taken as a metaphor not literally, Little bit of angst,

Hunter balls his hands into fists so tight his fingers shake, before threading them through his hand and pulling at the root. Boots clanging against the metal floor of the ship he walks into the cockpit, seeing Tech and Wrecker both already looking up at him.

"He is being impossible." Hunter flops in the co-pilot seat, groaning almost harsh enough to sound like a growl. Wrecker throws out a nonchalant hand, shrugging and shaking his head.

"He's been all grumpy for weeks now, not like we did anything to him..." Wrecker crosses his arms and glances in the direction of the back of the Marauder, where Crosshair is currently hidden.

Swiveling his pilot's seat so he faces Hunter, Tech continues threading a screw into his currently ongoing repair job while he talks.

"I can think of perhaps one or two theories that have the most merit as to why Crosshair is behaving this way." While normally Hunter is used to Crosshair's attitude largely defying any sort of figuring out, he still cracks an eye open to watch Tech explain himself.

"Either he's become irritated at the extended length of all of our current missions," That's a no-brainer, and the reason why all of them are on edge. Tech glances in the same place Wrecker had looked, before continuing.

"Or, he is upset because he's been away from her for such a significant amount of time."

That catches Hunter's attention, leaning up away from the back of the seat.

They've all known for a while that Crosshair had met someone, and had simply been playing it off so he could say so himself. He leaves for hours at a time and refuses to say where, along with Hunter being able to smell the irrefutable scent of a woman on him. But as expected he's kept it all a secret, acting as if him disappearing isn't unusual.

Part of Hunter was maybe a little bit insulted that he's not divulging something that significant, especially given that it doesn't seem to be just a one night stand.

But since his attitude and patience had marginally improved the Batch had elected to just take the win; Though it seems the inevitable downside was now this. They hadn't expected to get rerouted three different times so far, extending their current deployment by double what had been estimated.

He gets missing someone, but he just wishes Crosshair wouldn't be such an ass about it. He keeps biting at anyone who so much as glances at him, entire body tight and angry.

Hunter can’t help but sigh in relief knowing that they’re on track back to Coruscant, and they can get off the Marauder and stretch out away from each other for a bit. Even on the best of days, it’s not a good mix to be in such close quarters for so long.

"Lets just get to Coruscant ASAP; I'm going to go insane being stuck up in here with him for much longer."

The storage crate Crosshair is sitting on wiggles slightly, but held mostly in place by it's straps to the ground. Tech had secured this load this time after they routed to a republic base for resupplying, since they'd run out of their original stock of necessities.

But even as far back as he can possibly get it's not far enough away from his brothers, as he can still hearing them talking from all the way in the cockpit. His knuckles crack as he uses one hand to grip the fingers on his opposite, hunched over as his elbows dig into his thighs.

"Or he is upset because he's been away from her for such a significant amount of time."

Damn right he's fucking upset.

He finally finds himself someone that he likes, that he wants to be around, and he has to be stuck up in the Marauder for literal months. The last time they'd gotten rerouted he'd swore up a storm, knowing it would be at least another few standard weeks till they were back on Coruscant. Wrecker had gotten the brunt of it, and he feels a little sour stomached knowing that he shouldn’t have thrown that stuff at him. Wrecker didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just his desire to have some semblance of a life biting him in the ass. Clones don’t get to enjoy things, they get to shoot or get shot.

But he’s so fucking desperate that he swears he can see you right in front of him, with that stupid smile and wearing the used bodyglove he'd given you and let you cut up into something pretty. You’d put thumb holes in the sleeves and cut the bottom off, turning into a cute little shirt you could wear whenever. You’d even left the republic symbol on the arm alone, so it’s still obvious that it’s military.

‘It reminds me of you,’ He remembers you saying, and it felt like you’d shot him in the gut.

But instead of being with you he’s here; Stuck in a stuffy ship the same air recirculating over and over.

He wants to fuck you. Bad.

So damn bad that even you right now, the mere thought of you leaning forward to grab something off a table enough so that your shirt raises just a tiny bit up your back, has him biting his cheek almost enough to bleed.

No matter how many times he beats his head in trying to forget you exist for even just a moment, or waits until he’s alone enough to lock the refresher door and try and yank himself until he feels the need die down just enough that he can think about anything else, it doesn't work.

None of it does; His mind just keeps circling back to you. The way you smile at him, the way you talk to him, the way his hands look against your skin.

He should hate you for doing this to him. He should hate himself for letting this be done to him.

You're a good girl experimenting with a bit of the bad; To feel someone who isn't afraid to get rough. To taste the smoke on his lips and reach for him the moment he tries to pull away. He’s supposed to make you cry, make you want him.

You should be the one acting sick with love and yearning; Not him.

He's head over heels like someone in love for the first because he is; Other than one or two one night stands you're the first to make him feel this way. He's been having dreams even, mind coming up with scenarios each one more ludicrous than the last. But gods had they made him hard; Enough so that when he jolted up from his bunk he'd almost slammed his head into the ceiling, heart racing in his chest. He had to change the bottom half of his blacks afterward as well, as silently as possible.

Everything about this just makes him furious.

The moment they arrive in Coruscant space he’s standing up and waiting, his foot tapping the ground as he grips the wall for support. He’s not going to bother sitting down, it would be a waste of time. Tech will jostle them around as they land the same amount either way.

Hunter can probably hear him back here, though Crosshair doesn’t care either way. Whatever the rest of them think doesn’t matter to him at the moment, even less so than usual.

With a bunched fist he hits the panel to drop the gangplank the moment the Marauder's engines are off, not even letting them get cold before he disappears.

It's the dead of night when your eyes suddenly crack open, having to adjust to the such low amount of light in the room.

You don't know quite why you're suddenly awake, and after rubbing your eyes you lean up a bit, looking around the room. When there isn't anything out of the ordinary, you almost move to put your head against the pillow again to go back to sleep, until you hear it.

It's the soft sound of metal sliding on metal, and so you wrench your body from bed, grabbing the blaster from your nightstand and racing out into the living room to see if the door is open.

The main one isn't, though the one that leads to your patio is, with a figure standing in it just inside on your floor.

For a moment your heart completely stops, until you recognize the shape of the helmet they're wearing.

"Crosshair!?"

Your hands lower, seeing his familiar lithe silhouette in front of the patio. "Did you, break in?" He pulls the sliding glass door shut as you brush a hand along your hair and set the blaster on your counter.

"Yeah, and?"

He says while pulling off his helmet, before throwing it in the direction of your couch. It bounces twice before rolling to a stop. "It's the fifth story!" He seems to completely ignore your comment, and instead walks closer to you, an unreadable expression on his face. It’s so dark in here, the only like is from the patio windows and the one little light you leave on in the kitchen.

You're in your nightclothes of course, bare feet against the floor as you'd raced right from your bedroom after hearing him pick the lock. You hope no one saw him on the way up, but it’s unlikely Crosshair would’ve allowed that to happen.

Walking closer you can hear his boots hit your floor, and he comes into your personal space you let him; His hands laying on the tops of your hips and pulling you close. The edge of the countertop hits the small of your back as he traps you against it, seeing his eyes brush over your face.

He’s not saying anything, so you fill the silence yourself.

"I missed you." He makes a soft noise.

"Really?" His tone of voice is amused, and skeptical. The plates of his armor are rough against your palms, as they brush over his chestplate. You can feel each little scrape and dent, every moment where he might’ve gotten hurt had it not been there to protect him.

"Am I not allowed to miss you?" He removes one hand from your hip to take the toothpick from his mouth and flicks it in the direction of your trash, it bonking off the wall and falling in.

After he does so, he leans down enough that his lips are just barely hovering over your own, and you can just barely see the outline of his features in the dark. They feel so soft, brushing against you as he speaks.

"You're too sweet on me, sugar."

Maybe so, but you can't help it.

"But I don't think you missed just me, right?" One of his hands leaves your hips to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head upwards. He's not wrong, you know you’ve missed the things he does to you just as much as himself. They keep you awake at night, more often than not. You don’t answer him, but your lips gently part as you look at him. His eyes are hooded, looking at you and only you.

"So what; You want me to love on you, or fuck you."

Crosshair knows what he wants, and he knows by the way you've grown pliant under his grasp that you want it too.

He moves closer to you until you have no option to sit up on the table you'd had your back to, him stepping in the space between your legs. His lips are rough against yours as he tugs up the fabric of your nightdress, so much so that one might wonder if he'd ripped it. It doesn't matter.

His gloved hand is slipping down the front of your underwear so fast that you don't even have time to question it, instantly pressing against your clit. He chuckles at the way your hips press towards him, already pleading for more. Always greedy. You’re so senstive and begging and he’s barely even touched you. It’s been too long.

"Nothing else worked, hmm?"

His fingers slide along your cunt, them just barely shining from the light pouring through your windows. He only pulls his hand away to bite the tip of his glove and pull it off, so you he can fuck you with his bare fingers. While he does, he's one handedly undoing his armor, letting it fall and kicking it away.

It feels good to take it off, and it feels even better for you to feel the softer slopes of his body, instead of the harsh edges of his armor. You slide off your underwear and throw them away, just in time for him to press his hand against you again.

His fingers curl inside of your cunt, making noises that almost embarrass you as his jaw presses against your cheek.

"Don't tell me you've been this wet the whole time i've been gone?"

He keeps trying his usual 'nonchalant and disconnected' schtick, with the snarky quips and knowing looks.

But each time his lips press against yours it's with so much desperation, feeling the way he grinds against you through his bodyglove as your legs wrap around his hips. He leans back to pull off his chestplate, and before it stops rocking on the floor he’s already back against your body.

He knows exactly how to touch you, fingers curling inside of you perfect while his thumb presses against your clit. You're writhing under his touch, desperately close after so long being unable to feel fully satisfied. The memory of his touch stopped being enough after awhile, and you’d suffered without it.

“Sometimes,” You sigh, feeling how tight your gut is. “I missed you.” You did, in multiple ways.

"I wanted you here; Especially w-" You suddenly stop speaking, too nervous to say it out loud to him. Maybe this isn’t the time to say what was on the tip of your tongue.

But Crosshair is too keen, and slows before looking down at you.

"Hmm?" He notices the way you suddenly look away from him, and only when he almost completely stops touching you do you barely mutter the words.

"I, thought I was pregnant. Right after you left."

You can still feel his fingers curled inside of you, stretching you. It hadn’t made him run, like you’d thought it might.

Crosshair doesn't know how to feel over the fact that those words fail to startle him, or that they send a jolt right down to his groin.

"It was just me imagining things in the end but," His hand moves and the way his thumb brushes over your clit makes you stop talking, gasping as your thighs tense.

"The good girl wanted a clone to knock her up?" Your face squishes. You hate when he calls you that. It sounds demeaning; Both to you and himself.

"Just- Dammit Cross,"

You say, cutting off anything else he might say. You hate when he makes you fluster under him like this, instead settling to just kiss him instead. Your hands fumble on his bodyglove before he pulls them away, freeing his cock himself. His hands grab your hips harshly and pulls you to the edge of the countertop, enough so that he can line himself up with your entrance and slowly press inside. He feels your nails through the fabric of his blacks, gasping as he slowly buries himself to the hilt.

You know Cross can be gentle, almost surprisingly so, but clearly what you'd said to him affected him to some degree; So much so that his hands grip your hips and leave dents, teeth catching your bottom lip.

He's rough, fucking you like he has one goal in mind.

Your arms are wrapped around his neck almost like a hug, keeping him close while he drives up into you. His hands and grabbing at your hips, keeping you as close to the edge of the counter as he can, without you falling off.

"C-Cross..." Fuck, he missed this. He missed the feel of you hot and wet and tight around him, and being able to fill you up like this until you're begging for him. More of him. He missed the feeling off your warmth on his skin; He's always ran colder, and secretly enjoys when your arms are around him and he can siphon your warmth.

Your legs tighten around his hips, keeping him as close as possible as his hips thrust up towards you. His cock barely pulls out halfway each time, staying so deep inside of you he keeps grinding against your most senstive spots.

"Let, Kriff- Let me cum in you.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him ask for something like that before; bordering on the edge of pleading. He says it through gritted teeth, hating that he let something like that slip. You grant him a mercy by whispering to him ‘yes, yes,’ against his shoulder.

The sounds of skin on skin fill the room as he thrusts his cock into you as deep as he can, brushing against every sensitive nerve within reach. You feel so hot and soft around him, your nails digging into him through his blacks as you clasp onto him. You would’ve let him even if he hadn’t have asked, but you can’t help the jolt that goes straight to your pussy at the way he wants to so badly.

He's so close you can feel him, the way he's uneven and swearing, and you grip him so tight he'd have to tear your arms off his body to pull out of you.

You suddenly feel him cum inside of you, as he hisses through his teeth in pleasure. His cock twitches inside of you, hips grinding against you as if trying to get impossibly deeper. He lingers until he’s finished, and when he finally does pull his cock from you, it's almost instantly replaced with his fingers. Pressing against your clit and circling, trying to help you chase the high you're so infuriatingly close to. He’s not just going to leave you hanging.

He can feel his cum against his fingers, mixing with your wetness as he drives his fingers deeper inside of you. Your thighs quake around him and he feels your hands grasping for anything to hold onto to keep you steady, mewling so sweetly for him.

"Come on doll," He mutters softly against your skin, teeth scraping against the soft skin just below your ear.

"Almost, almost- I,"

It's only seconds later than you finally do cum, body straightening up as your arms wrap around him, thighs trying to close tight. But they can't with him in the way, so they only wrap around him as he feels your pussy tense and flutter around nothing. He leaves his fingers against you for a bit, much more slow and gentle as he listens to your panting in his ear.

When he does finally pull away from you he glances at the way his cum slowly leaks from you, before glancing up and seeing your hooded, tired eyes as you lean back on your hands.

He'll never get tired of how this scene looks.

"Admiring your handiwork?" You dare to quip, feeling the way he gently smacks the side of your thigh to show his displeasure about it. It only makes you grin. Even if your heart is racing, you’re not tired quite yet. You can’t afford to be, you don’t know how much his time you’re going to have.

When you move to slide off the counter he lifts a hand a bit just in case, though you get down with no trouble. Your knees might be a little wobbily, but not unusable. The fabric of your nightclothes slides down, covering your messy thighs just enough.

"I wouldn't mind more, if you have any left."

The look Crosshair gives you is absolutely vicious, and just as quickly as the words leave you’re mouth he’s coming towards you. He's following, and quickly gaining, before he claps and arm on your shoulder and pushes you with in that direction with intent.

"Don't make promises that little body of yours can't keep up with."

[scaranation]

I saw that requests were still open and I crawled back from the firey pits of hell to offer you Scaramouche brain rott along with a personal AU that hit me like a foking brick like two days ago.

So first off. Imagine if you will. That Mr. McGrump wasn't actually just one entity but actually a trio of twin brothers that wandered around Teyvat known as the "the trio of eccentrics". They despise each other (cuz of course they do) but decide to travel together cuz no matter how hard they try to NOT bump into each other, the world is just so big for a trio of dumbasses that are chaotic on their own right.

They cannot get along to save their lives. The amount of times Scaramouche and Wanderer have gotten smacked on the face with Kabukimono's smithing hammer are just too many to count. Not to mention that as feeble as he appears to be he has a scarily good aim much to his brother's previous dismay as they have been greeted with a flying hammer to the back of the head multiple times when they have run into each other "by chance" before.

People tend just get confused when one of them randomly spawns on a town and seemingly sprout two other clones like some kind of mitosis type shit until they realize it's just a trio of siblings.

I also low-key feel y/n would accidentally bump and help all of them separatedly by chance only for them to all either think of them fondly or straight up have a little crush on them. I can just see Kabuki rambling to wanderer how some sweet person saved him from a hoard of electro slimes only for him to remember how someone offered to invite him to some food in one of his travels similar to the one his brother mentioned. Only for Scara to interrupt demanding if they were talking about this one very specific person that offered him shelter that one time he was injured after some misión or something. Cue y/n casually walking by and all of them losing their collective shit cuz HOLY SHIT THAT'S THEM- WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW THEM TOO????? And thus the quest of winning over the kind stranger begins.

Idk if this was even mildly entertaining but this idea has been eating my brain for days and needed to spew it somewhere. Love your work! ✨✨✨

OMLL HOWW YOUR BRAINROTS ARE SO GOOD I CANT 😭😭 this took me a while to write but i had to get everything out to even do this idea some justice it’s got me giggling fr

༊*·˚ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄

ft. Scaramouche, Kabukimono, Wanderer

Content: fluff, crack (but treated seriously)

a/n - innocent Kabukimono just lives rent free in my heart omlll like just imagine a less traumatised Scara <33

The trio of short haired, violet-eyed wanderers (also known as “the trio of eccentrics” by the local children) were a common sight in Teyvat. Prior to the revelation that they were, in fact, siblings, people had believed that they were either a teleporting ghost or some human aphid with miraculous cloning abilities. That was until someone saw two of the them in the same room, and connected the dots.

Scaramouche, the Wanderer, and Kabukimono were inseparable - not of their own will, of course. On their erratic, impulsive routes across Sumeru, they’d somehow cross paths more often than they wanted. In fact, they’d made an effort to avoid each other. The Wanderer had retreated all the way to the Hypostyle Desert, cackling at his own genius. Unfortunately, he also found Scaramouche and Kabukimono at the desert too - both dumbfounded at the ridiculous situation. Somehow, all three of them had simultaneously decided that hiding in the desert to not see each other was a great idea.

“What are you doing here?” the Wanderer had blurted.

“No, what are you doing here? I had this idea yesterday!” Kabukimono cried.

“Both of you, get out of my sight. I hatched this plan two weeks ago.” Scaramouche grumbled.

“Oh, how diabolical and calculating you are,” the Wanderer rolled his eyes, as though he wasn’t just praising himself for what he thought was the most intelligent idea to ever exist.

“Fine, I’ll leave first.” Kabukimono sighed. Perhaps it was because he was the youngest, but he was always ended up giving in to his brothers.

“Pushover,” the Wanderer smirked.

“Says the unemployed one,” Scaramouche scoffed.

“At least I have a vision.”

“Shut up.”

The many other times the trio convened by accident, two of them weren’t even conscious to fully process their irritation. The moment Kabukimono spotted Scaramouche or the Wanderer at his favourite resting place, he’d let loose his hammer - striking them on the back of the head with scary aim. He’d congratulate himself if he managed to score a concussion, too. It wasn’t as though the others didn’t defend themselves equally vigorously. If they couldn’t settle things with words, the brothers would just break out into fighting.

Things were especially bad when the Wanderer got ahold of Kabukimono’s hammer. Upon wrestling it out of the blacksmith’s grip, the Wanderer would flit into the air, gleefully holding the hammer out of reach until Scaramouche had enough and struck him down with a bolt of lightning.

“You look like a fly when you do that, you know?”

“You’re just jealous.”

Somehow, you were always at the centre of the trio’s unpredictable paths of destruction across Teyvat. You never really guessed at the connection between them, only dismissing it as a mere coincidence that you’d developed a fondness for three purple haired, short-tempered travellers.

As an adventurer, you’d first met Kabukimono on one of your errands.

“Stay away!”

You heard the clanging of something heavy on your inspection in Guyun, turning around to locate the source of the voice.

You followed the commotion around past the domain you’d just exited from, finding a crevice tucked away into a small beach-like area. Clumps of electro crystals clung to the stone walls of the cove, the lapping of the waves only perpetuating the intense elemental reactions. At the centre of it all was a strangely dressed man, being attacked by a hoard of electro slimes. He flailed around with a blacksmith’s hammer, presumably caught in his own attempt to mine valuable ores for a project.

His clothes looked to be of Inazuman attire, too - what was an Inazuman doing, looking for electro crystals all the way out in Liyue?

“Do you need help?” You crouched down, a little hesitant over whether or not it was obligatory for you to jump into the electro-charged mess.

“It… certainly looks like it, doesn’t it?” The man flashed you a defeated smile. Luckily, as a pyro vision holder, it wasn’t too difficult for you to deal with the slimes. With a brief flash of your vision, you also mined the ores for the stranger as well.

“Ah! So they require elemental triggers to be mined. No wonder it was taking me so long. Thank you, by the way - I’m Kabukimono.” The stranger extended a hand. You took it, but he didn’t shake it. The two of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, before he released your hand.

“Ah, sorry… That’s what I see people at the workshop do when they meet someone new. Is it strange?”

“No, of course not! You usually shake the hand after holding it, though.” You quipped helpfully.

“Oh.” A flush spread across his cheeks. He thanked you vehemently once again, insisting on offering you some spare iron in exchange for your help.

“Travel safe!” You called after Kabukimono, as he hurried off. He was a little strange, but his awkwardness was rather endearing. You smiled and shook your head, before resuming work and thinking nothing more of the entire ordeal.

Unlike Kabukimono, the second of the trio you met was a lot more irritable. You met the Wanderer at some food stalls in Sumeru city, almost mistaking him for the acquaintance you’d met in Guyun - only to be quickly corrected by his vastly different attitude.

“Watch it.” The stranger that looked suspiciously like Kabukimono (but with a remarkably more hostile, pointed gaze) shoved past you.

“These lavender melons. How much do they cost?” Not-Kabukimono asked the vendor, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Uh, 200 mora-”

“What? Who sells trash like this so expensively? Forget it, I didn’t want them anyway.” The Wanderer scoffed, turning to leave before you quickly grabbed him.

“If you’re hungry, you can eat at my place. I have some leftovers,” you offered. He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Why are you helping me? Is this a poisoning attempt?”

“No… You just remind me of an acquaintance of mine, so I thought I’d look out for you.”

“Pfft, I don’t need your baseless concern.”

At that moment, the man’s stomach grumbled. The two of you made eye contact, before reaching a silent agreement.

“My house is that way,” you pointed, as the stranger begrudgingly followed you.

Even if he didn’t say so, the stranger most definitely enjoyed your cooking. After introducing himself as the Wanderer, he was quick to open up - always stopping by to visit (claiming that you were a convenient dining place for his travels).

Whenever he stopped by, you’d laugh and cook him a warm meal - it almost felt like home to him, or at least what he thought a home was. He never really had one, nor did he care for the notion, but this arrangement was quite pleasant for him. If the Wanderer was in a good mood, he’d even share some of his travelling stories with you. He’d boast about the enemies he defeated in the wilderness, complain about the stupidity of mortals, before giving you the rare piece of acknowledgement (“you know, your cooking is edible,” or “it’s definitely not poisoned,” etc.).

You quickly grew to anticipate his sporadic visits, getting an understanding of what kind of food he preferred. You weren’t sad when he didn’t arrive, and the two of you thrived off a mutual relationship. The Wanderer was surely different from your other companion, but that didn’t make him any less welcome.

Lastly, you’d met Scaramouche on an ominous rainy day. Or, rather, he’d been deposited on your doorstep.

“I don’t remember ordering a parcel…” You peered out into your doorway, squinting through the lashing rain - before realising that this ‘parcel’ was very much human-shaped.

With a surprised gasp, you dragged the figure inside as carefully as you could, wincing at the blood mixed with rainwater that swirled across his smooth skin. Peeling back the heavy layers of his outer coat, you took off the man’s hat to gape again in shock.

“Kabukimono?” You spluttered.

“Who are you calling Kabukimono?” The stranger snapped, sitting up slowly.

“Wanderer?” You tried again, guessing based on the man’s furious expression.

“Hah, you dare to…”

Before the stranger (that was neither Kabukimono nor the Wanderer) could finish his sentence, he passed out again in a haze of dizzying unconsciousness.

The man’s deep indigo eyes fluttered open a while later to the sight of you tending his wounds. He immediately flinched away, looking at you incredulously.

“Who are you? Why am I here?”

“You quite literally passed out on my porch, then again in my house. Don’t you remember?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“You dare gaslight a Fatui Harbinger? Try as hard as you want, but I won’t be giving you financial compensation for this.”

“You’re… a Harbinger…?” You frowned. He sure acted and looked a lot like the Wanderer - perhaps he’d hit his head a little too hard.

“Yes, Scaramouche. I’m better known as the Balladeer, of course.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“Well, then that just means we’re doing a great job of maintaining confidentiality.” Scaramouche huffed, allowing you to continue wrapping bandages around the deep gashes on his body. You chuckled at his demeanour.

“I’m not expecting anything in return for this.” You offered, leaning back to scrutinise your medical work. Years of adventuring had given you experience in this sort of thing, but your expertise was still lacking.

“Then why? Don’t tell me, you believe in kindness?”

“Anyone would do this if they found a stranger half-dead at their door in the pouring rain.” You rolled your eyes.

“I was not half-dead, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Scaramouche huffed, and you almost gawked at how similar he was to the Wanderer.

“Um, do you happen to know anyone named… Uh…” You hesitated under your new acquaintance’s fierce gaze.

“Named what? Do I look like an Akasha terminal to you?”

“Never mind.” You quickly shut your mouth. Perhaps it was just a coincidence.

It took a few months before the trio finally figured out they had a mutual connection. They’d all visited you countless times, and yet were lucky enough not to encounter each other - that was, until they finally began talking about their latest travel experiences upon having a chance meeting in Sumeru.

“Hm, perhaps this is what mortals call… comradeship…” Kabukimono mused to his brothers one day.

“Feeling a little amicable, Kabukimono?” Scaramouche sneered. He eyed the glimmering purple blade Kabukimono flipped over in his hands.

“There was this adventurer who saved me from some electro slimes once. It was because of them that I could fashion this dagger… Humans really are compassionate.” Kabukimono mused. He happily smiled to himself at the reminder of you.

“You’re so naive, brother. After all, mortals are only driven by fair exchange. Nobody would help without expecting it return - ah, there is one exception. There was this person I met who offered me food. I’ve been having free meals with them for months, and they don’t even know how I’m taking advantage of them! How immature they are, selflessly acting like that. It almost makes me concerned for their well-being,” the Wanderer chuckled.

“I don’t think you’re taking advantage of them if you’re… just accepting the free meals they give you. It almost seems they have you wrapped around their finger.” Scaramouche snickered.

“You wouldn’t understand the idea of a mutually beneficial relationship. In fact, have you even talked to a living being other than your colleagues in the last week?”

“Yes, you, and a certain traveller who took me in after I was injured in a mission-”

“You got injured? How pathetic.”

“It was a calculated risk. Anyway, they gave me shelter and treated all my wounds without asking for mora once. And they even let me stay over long after I’d healed, too. Mortals are so foolish, to be blindly trusting. I could’ve snapped their throat in a second.”

The three brothers agreed on the extremely rare and (questionably naive) selflessness of humans.

Then, a beat of silence passed before a revelation dawned on them.

“Isn’t it weird that we’ve all met a strange, helpful adventurer?” Kabukimono murmured.

“Exactly what I was thinking. Surely not all humans are like this.” Scaramouche nodded.

“Maybe foolishness is more common than we thought…?” The Wanderer suggested, but an uneasy feeling was dawning on him as he began to connect the dots.

“Say, does the traveller you two met live near the Grand Bazaar?” Scaramouche prodded.

“Yes.” Kabukimono and the Wanderer responded simultaneously.

“And they have an adventurer’s bandana? With a Mondstadtian clock in the front room of their house?”

“Yes- YOU TWO KNOW THEM AS WELL?” Kabukimono spluttered.

The Wanderer only heaved a large sigh. He was so close to showing off that he had a new friend, only to realise that the new friend was also acquainted with both his brothers.

“How bothersome, it seems you’re already close with them.” Scaramouche raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I am! I met them first, after all.” Kabukimono insisted.

“Both of you, be quiet. I’m going to their place now.” The Wanderer pushed back his chair.

“Hey! I was planning to visit them too!”

The scraping of chairs resounded as the remaining two brothers hurriedly rushed to get to your house.

Any other person would probably pass out from fear at seeing all three of the notorious trio appear at their door. You, however, only shot them a bemused look and ushered them in.

Once the three realised they had competition, Scaramouche, the Wanderer, and Kabukimono would be unrelenting in competing for your attention.

It was quite comical at times - you’d barely have to say anything and one of them would appear, diligently doing tasks for you and looking back at you eagerly for praise. It seemed almost strange to consider that these three had been marvelling at your profound naiveness only a few days ago, and were now basically at your beck and call.

Scaramouche would definitely be the most demanding. Whether it was a hand on your elbow or a risky grip on your wrist, he made sure you were close to him and sought your undivided attention. He’d recklessly snap out searing insults at anyone else, before getting ahold of himself and stating that he was merely defending a poor, foolish soul from being taken advantage of by some calculating purple-haired villain. Not him though, he’d never do anything like that.

The Wanderer (like his name) was more relaxed - he could go without your eyes on him at all times, and he’d drift in and out as he pleased. However, he did see himself as being entitled to your energy whenever he did happen to stop by. Occasionally, he’d even offer to take you on a scenic flight across Teyvat. After you’d tried it once, you were quick to refuse his latter offers - zooming across rooftops at breakneck speed was not your forte. The Wanderer huffed at your reluctance and accused you of denying his altruistic favour, but made an effort to do things you liked regardless.

Kabukimono was fiercely shy. He’d always bring you trinkets - small mechanisms or self-defends tools he’d fashioned from spare parts during his work as a blacksmith. He’d press them into your hands self-consciously, unable to bite back a smile when you praised his handiwork. He wouldn’t hesitate to stand up against his much fiercer brothers if it was for you, holding you in a tight embrace whenever you’d let him.

And so, as it happened, it seemed as though “the eccentric trio” simply couldn’t escape each other. As if by some ill-humoured joke, they all ended up liking the same person. The only issue was, being that person, you now had to deal with all three of them at once.

As if one wasn’t enough, you now had triple the trouble.

༊*·˚