#though I still prefer 3rd pov

[foodiegoogie]

because of force | 2.5k

part two of two people met once | a remus lupin x fem!reader mini series

summary: remus has always dreaded social gatherings. but when you’re in company, he finds it hard to say no. it also turns out that that applies to a lot of things in life. for instance, the liquid luck that is alcohol, and most of all, you.

cw/tags: implicit nsfw themes, sexual assault, but nothing too graphic. heavy angst, remus is an implied alcoholic, remus-centric pov, jealous!remus lupin, and inspired, again, by one day (the series). lmk if i missed any <3

taglist: @jamesweather @loveyouprongs

note: omg pt 2 is finally here! and surprise... there's a 3rd part incoming bcoz ive finally gotten around to writing the last scene but it started getting longer... anw, special thanks to @sunskisser and @wintrsoul cuz they had my back when i was losing my mind over writing this lolol enjoy!

Remus Lupin isn’t really a party person. But his friends will tell you otherwise should one have to ask.

He’s not a stranger to them, either. Everyone has gone to a party at least once in their lives, no matter how reserved or “shy” that person may be. If anything, he was often dragged into whatever party Sirius felt like throwing at the worst possible time back in uni. Remus was in attendance at these parties, but was always the wallflower. Just watching from the sidelines, a Solo cup in hand, and making judgy comments in his mind.

That routine got disrupted whenever he spotted you, of course. 

You weren’t a wallflower like him, though. You were there for the free food and drinks. And even though Remus preferred to just let people go about their business, lest his business be invaded, he left his comfort zone just to get to you. 

“Scavenging for snacks again?” He’d ask you.

You had chuckled, your laughter ringing in his ears like wind chimes dancing in the breeze. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Remus hated small talk. But he never minded it when it was with you.

Similar to his past, the man still gets dragged into public gatherings nowadays. Though they’re a great deal tamer than the parties he’s been to when he was younger. Now, he gets dragged to team dinners—clinking pints of Guinness, sharing finger foods with colleagues, and pretending that they all make for some great company (though Remus would rather fill his mouth with dirt than admit that to anyone).

Thankfully, it only happens every once in a while. Most days at the office are mundane and repetitive. Not even the occasional elevator run-ins Remus has had with you can deny that. So, if anything, he has a love-hate relationship with attending team dinners.

It gives him the chance to see his colleagues in a different light—literally. Because the lighting at the office is cool and creepy, and the pubs that these dinners take place in have warm lighting, making one feel at ease. 

It also gives Remus a chance to drink himself dry with a perfectly reasonable excuse. That’s either to “let loose!” or “have fun!” like all his colleagues nag him about. Who was he to deny the decisions that other people make for him? He barely speaks with them, too, and he wasn’t about to start denying anything now. So—

“—bottoms up!”

Remus downs his shot glass of gin, feeling the familiar burn of alcohol running down his throat. A resounding applause goes around him. He’s just succumbed to what might be his third—or forth?—shot ever since truth-or-dare was brought up at the table. 

They’d just asked him if there was anyone special in his life right now. Remus only ever had one automatic answer for that. A namehe’d answer in a heartbeat if he were around different people, in a different setting. Of course, he could always just tell them it was Sirius the rockstar or James the athlete and make up a sob story on the spot.

But he took a shot, because he wasn’t willing to bullshit anyone right now.

Not while he was busy playing his own game of ‘Try Not to Be Triggered’ with you at the moment.

The entire point of this dinner was for a “morale boost,” or so the new guy on the team, Gale, had reasoned a while ago at the office. “Drinks on me!” he said, but even an infant could see right through his friendly facade—he was just trying to get on everybody’s good side and rise up to the top that way.

…or so Remus thinks.

It certainly doesn’t help him that you're sitting right beside him—or was it the other way around? He couldn’t tell anymore; he’s getting another drink with a bigger glass later, Remus decides then. Ever since the team came into the pub and sat at the table, you and Gale had stuck out to him like a sore thumb. 

The pair of you were giggling like high school lovebirds, whispering in each other’s ears, sharing knowing smiles and glances. It all made Remus want to hurl, respectfully speaking. It took an ounce of self-restraint not to roll his eyes and make faces.

Because Remus isn’t petty like that. He wasn’t jealous either. 

How could he be if it didn’t concern him that you have a new fling going on with some fresh upstart now? It’s not like you were his girlfriend or anything. 

But that was never really the case in the beginning, was it? It never mattered if you were his girlfriend or… anything.

All that ever mattered to Remus was that you had him, and he had you. Whether that be in the happy times, in the sad times, in times of desire neither of you could quench indefinitely—you were important to him. You still are important to him.

He turns his attention to the window, watching the people and the cars pass by like they always did. Your laughter rings in his ears like an uncomfortable pitch, but they don’t harm his eardrums. Instead, it makes his heart feel heavier than it did before while he was still downing shot after shot. 

The thing is, though, you’re not the only one laughing at the table. The whole team is. It’s just that Remus has learned over time how to become in tune with your singularity. And it’s come to the point that he knows how to pick your voice out of any background noise anywhere. 

A shame that he isn’t willing to tell that to you or anyone else, though.

…but with another drink, he might.

・・・・・

Remus is protective. 

That stretches out to a lot of things in his life: his privacy, his friends, his vulnerability, and so on. And if he was being honest, he prides himself for being protective. It gives him the peace of mind he’ll never not crave.

But he only ever becomes a different kind of protective—namely, being overprotective—when it concerns you.

An hour or so has passed since the team got settled into the pub. The table’s a mess now with empty dishes, half-drunk glasses, alcohol spillage, and pieces of chips left over for the ants to feast on. Half the team has bid their farewells and gone home in pairs and groups, but several have decided to stick behind.

Several people including Remus, you, and Gale.

Gale, who’s drunk off his arse, was clinging on to you like some desperate puppy.

You, on the other hand, were busy trying to refuse him politely 

And Remus… he sat at the bar with a glass full of cider to keep him company.

But he’s been keeping an eye on you and Gale ever since the latter had started to slur his words and sway in his seat. And, mind you, Remus has seen his fair share of instances where creeps bother innocent people. He recognizes the signs, but hasn’t exactly been presented with a reasonable chance yet to swoop in and save you from Gale the creep.

That is, until he clocks on to Gale’s hand reaching up to your face.

Remus has done that one himself before, but tenderly and gently.

Gale does it with force.

“No, stop. Please—” You tell him, now actively resisting his advances. Remus downs the rest of his glass’ contents and places it back down onto the bar. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Gale slurs, keeping a tight arm around your shoulders and stillforcing you to face him. “A little kiss won’t hurt, eh?”

The foot of a stool drags loudly against the wooden floor of the pub. It’s loud, even amidst the usual noise of a fairly full pub, and it catches yours and Gale’s attention. He lets out a frustrated sigh, his grip on your face loosening as he turns his head—

“What are you doing?” Remus asks him, his voice low and serious. He’s got a hand behind both of your chairs, ready to pull Gale’s back and take him to the floor.

Gale scoffs, sizes him up, then rises to his full height. But even in his stance, Remus is a great deal taller—has been his whole life, basically, though it doesn’t seem to bother the former. In fact, he still has the audacity to come up to him in his face, staring him in the eyes. 

Remus gets a horrid whiff of his breath—like Gale had just gargled beer a few times. Not that far off from Remus, who was just sipping on cider earlier, but at least he knows how to keep his mouth shut when talking with another person. 

“What’s it look like I’m doing, hm?” Gale shoots back, taunting. “I was jus’ tryin’ to give ‘er a kiss.”

‘Kiss my arse, more like,’ Remus comments mentally. 

But he takes a glance back at you first, still seated in your chair and looking tense. Your eyes meet his, and you shake your head resolutely. Remus takes it as a sign to go on, but he has a slight feeling that that wasn’t what you were trying to tell him.

“She says no,” He finally replies, voice still low but still keeping composure. “Actually—she’s been saying no.”

“Wow. You been watching us this whole time or somethin’? Fuckin’ nasty li’l kink you got there—”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, it was safe to say that Gale knew better than to anger Remus Lupin.

・・・・・

Remus does not consider himself a saint. 

It’s just that he doesn’t resort to violence, even with a hot head. So when he muttered a few words of “wisdom” saved just for Gale’s ears, it had surprisingly prevented the situation from escalating.

The creep had left the pub then, stumbling over his feet and rushing to pay the tab for the team dinner’s expenses. That was what he was there for, Remus had reminded him. Perhaps the guy just needed a “strong” wake-up call. One that involved bringing up the HR manager and some other well-meaning threats.

But where Gale got his much-needed slap back to reality, Remus got his from you walking out of the pub in a hurry.

“Y/N—wait!”

It all happens in a blur. Had it not been for the alcohol running through his veins since a couple hours ago, Remus would have stuck behind and returned to his cider. Instead, he had grabbed his coat, paid for his drink, and went out of the pub, rushing after you with his crossbody bag half-slung over his shoulder. 

No time like the present, Remus thought.

“Y/N, please—” He pleads again, jogging after you, nearly closing the distance. Actually, it didn't take much work considering Remus’ height. But never mind the actual, physical distance—you’re still walking away from him, and he’s still following you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You finally spoke, shaking your head. “I had it under control.”

“‘Under control?’” Remus repeats indignantly. “That’s bollocks, and you know it.”

You scoff, sparing him a brief glance over your shoulder. “What’s bollocks is you not minding your own business.”

“Well it might not have been my own business, but you needed help. I was the only one who saw that.” At this, you stop walking, startling Remus just slightly as he almost bumps into you. 

You turn around to face him, arms crossed and face hardened. “And now what, huh? D’you want me to say ‘thank you?’”

“What? No, I—” 

“Y’know what? Forget it. I’m not having this conversation. Not while you’re like this.” There’s a certain finality in your tone that scares Remus, and the fear amplifies when you turn away from him and start walking again.

“Like what?” He asks, exasperated and admittedly, tired of this conversation. He’s not sure anymore why he’s still following you. “Will you just listen to me, please?” 

“Oh, I am very much listening. In fact, I’m so interested in whatever you have to tell me right now,” You tell him, voice heavy with sarcasm. Remus winces. “So just keep talking.”

And because he knows better than to fight against your words, Remus does talk. He starts with apologizing, otherwise known as the best way he knows how to start a conversation, or introduce himself. 

“Okay, I’m sorry I stepped in, alright?” He admits. “I know that it didn’t concern me, but had it been another girl in your place—”

You interject with a humorless chuckle, “Oh, you and your hypotheticals.”

But Remus continues to speak for himself, anyway. Yes, he knows better than to fight against you—but he won’t let the argument go without establishing common ground. Moreover, this stubbornness that Remus doesn’t realize he has is what bound him to the most important people of his life in the first place. 

With his parents, he was stubborn in the sense that he kept reassuring them that he’d be fine. That the pain of his illness didn’t hurt him as much as it hurt to see them grow wrinkles on their faces, earned from constantly worrying for their son.

With his friends, Remus was stubborn in the sense that he really tried his best to be a good influence to them amidst their troublemaking. But alas, he ended up being an unlikely accomplice to their foolishness back in high school.

With you…, it seems that Remus was stubborn in the sense that given his experiences, his observances, his knowledge of you—he knew better than to ruin what was already perfect in the first place.

So as he rambles on about where he might have gone wrong at the pub earlier, still keeping pace with you walking in front of him, Remus never dares to question the very essence of this entire conversation. 

Why were you mad at him? Why would you say you had it under control when you were clearly uncomfortable with Gale earlier? And, most importantly, why haven’t you told Remus to get out of your sight yet and just hail a cab ride home?

He’d really like to know the answers to his questions, but alas—

“Remus, stop.”

He nearly bumps into you again, having been so focused on getting his point across in the mess that is his internal dilemma and this entire situation with you. It is also now that Remus realizes that you’ve both reached a quieter part of town, a considerably far distance from the pub now. 

The warm orange emitting from the streetlights coats you and him in that sunlight sort of hue. The kind that you only get to bask in when you’re by the sea, watching the sun go down beneath the vast expanse of water. 

But even in this light, Remus feels like he should be shivering under your glare right now.  

You’ve finally turned back around to face him.

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[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Can't Loose You Too

Request: okay hear me out please 🤞 what if the reader got captured by the grounders and bellamy freaks out but their not like a thing yet so like friends to loverss(ish) and he gets them back and spills his feelings cause he’s scared he could lose them 🤷🏻‍♀️ if you don’t have time or just don’t wanna write this do not feel pressured to at all 💕💕 - @ravenmedows

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: So I wrote this to be set in between S1 and S2. I feel like it just fit the best because relationships were established. I also wrote in Bellamy's POV, to help show Bellamy's emotions and his side. Although it's more like a 3rd person view. I hope you enjoy reading!

You’re assigned to go patrol and hunt around Arkadia, even though it was your least favorite assignment. It was more bearable by the fact that you’d be doing it with your friends. While most of the adults didn’t want you guys to exactly pursue Clarke, you guys had used patroling as an excuse to get any information you could. 

You head to the garage to find and meet up with everyone,”Hey, where are we headed this time?” You ask walking up to Bellamy.

“Sector 7,” He responds.

“Again? We should try looking somewhere else,” You say, knowing that you’ve had no luck in that sector.

“Sector 7 is our best chance. Besides that’s where we were assigned,” Bellamy says sternly.

“Fine,” You respond and head outside.

“Where’s she going?” Monty asks as you walk off. You head towards the horse stables and find Octavia getting her horse ready to head out.

“Don’t wanna ride in the Rover?” Octavia asks as you head to tend to your horse, Archer.

“You know I prefer to ride on the back of a horse,” You chuckle. 

You gather everything else that you need, water, your knives, and a bow and arrows. You and Octavia head out and meet everyone else at the front of the garage. Once it looked like they were ready you all ride out to Sector 7. You all make it to the edge of the forest, you stop and tie Archer up to the Rover.

“Alright everyone, you know the drill. Stay in pairs, don’t stray too far from the group, and radio if you find anything suspicious,” Bellamy says. You stick with Octavia and all head into the forest.

It seemed pretty quiet for the first few moments, until you heard a hog in the distance. You signal Octavia to let her know where you were going. After a few feet you see the hog in your view. You prepare your arrow and aim. As soon as you release your arrow, you felt a stinging pain in the back of your thigh. You felt the area and it wasa knife lodge into your leg. Before you could process anything else, you feel yourself picked up by someone on a horse. At first you thought it was Octavia but as soon as you looked up, it was a grounder.  You scream out trying to warn your friends, knowing there was more grounders around.

~ Bellamy’s POV ~

As Bellamy was looking around for anything to hunt, he hears a scream in the distance. Somehow he immediately knew that it was Y/N. He and everyone else, ran towards the scream, not caring that there may be more danger in the area. Soon enough Y/N with a grounder on the back of a horse, came into view. He started to run faster towards them as a horn warning was blown. But he didn’t stop until Octavia started to pull him away.

“Stop struggling,” Octavia strains trying to keep a hold onto her brother.

“We have to help them,” Bellamy yells.

“We can’t help them if we’re dead,” Monty says, jumping in to help Octavia and pull Bellamy to safety. They weren’t sure what the horn was blown for, since the acid fog was disabled, but it couldn’t have been good.  Soon enough it sounded like there were even more grounders out in the forest.

~ Y/N’s POV ~

You started to fade from the loss of blood, but the sound of a horn woke you up again. The grounder starts to ride faster until you got to an enclosed cave. They dismounted their horse and set you on the ground. You stayed silent and still not knowing what would happen next.  They took you off of the horse and set you on the ground. Next, they took the knife out of your leg, wrapped the wound up and bounded your hands. You could hear what sounded like a thousand footsteps and hooves outside the cave.

A few hours went by and your were suddenly woken up by a group of grounders making their way into the cave. At first they were communicating in Trig only, where you could only pick out a few phrases. “Did Azgeda hear or see you?” You pick out from the conversation between the grounders. 

“What’s your name, sky person?” One of the grounders then asked, you stayed silent. They asked once more, but you stayed silent again. Frustrated they gag you and put a bag over your head. Your body is then lifted and put onto a horse. 

What feels like a couple hours go by and you finally slow down to a stop. You were picked up once more and plopped onto the ground. The bag was taken off your head and you were greeted by the bright sunlight and a metal door slamming. A few more grueling hours went by until someone finally came and brought you food. 

They shoved it under the door and pulled up a chair. You didn’t touch the food and the grounder took notice, “Eat,” He says. You refused to take food from them, didn’t want to risk  being poisened. “What’s your name?” He asks next.

You kept your mouth shut, not wanting to give them anything. You weren’t exactly sure why grounders would be aggressive towards you and your people again, it seemed like Clarke had made sure that they wouldn’t be a nuisance again.

~ Bellamy’s POV ~ 

The whole ride back to Arkadia was completely silent. Bellamy couldn’t help but think of how he lost Clarke but also you now. Once the rover had pulled into the garage, Bellmay immediately got out.

“Where are you going?” Monty asks. Bellamy doesn’t respond and keeps walking away. Octavia follows after her brother into the map room.

“Bell…Hey Bell?” Octavia asks trying to get her brothers attention. He ignores Octavia and looks at the map to see where Y/N could’ve possibly been taken. “Bellamy?!” Ocatavia says once more pulling the rolling board away from him.

“What?!” Bellamy responds angrily.

“Slow down,” Octavia tells her brother.

“I can’t. Not while Y/N is out there,” Bellamy says.

“You can for a moment. Y/N is strong they’ll be ok until we can find them. Let’s just rest and figure a game plan. Not rush into things,” Octavia logically explains to Bellamy.

“What other grounder clans were we close by?” Bellamy says completely ignoring his sister.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Octavia questions.

“Look Octavia. Clarke is out god knows where and now Y/N has been kidnapped by grounders.  I can’t just sit here and do nothing. We need to find them before anything bad happens,” Bellamy says walking back over to the map board. 

“I’m not saying we do nothing. I’m just saying that we slow down and figure out the best plan of action instead of rushing into things,��� Octavia says.

“You’re right. I’m just– just worried about them,” Bellamy sighs.

“I am too. Let’s go get some food and chat with the others,” Octavia leads Bellamy to the mess hall.

~ Y/N’S POV ~

It’s day two since you’d been captured. You hadn’t eaten a thing or given up any information. In fact you hadn’t talked at all. They just kept asking for your name and what you knew about Wanheda. You had no clue who in the hell Wanheda was. 

“Eat,” The man says bringing you more food and taking the old food out. After a few minutes another man comes barreling in, he says something in Trig that you couldn’t understand before coming up to the bars.

“You’re not gonna talk, huh?” the man says before opening the door and yanks you out of the cell. You’re pulled over to a pole and have your hands bound around it.

“Where is Wanheda?” The man asks. You stay silent. Next thing you know you feel a punch to your stomach. The man asks the same question over and over again, with the same result, no words and some form punishment.

The man still received no answers from you by the time to sun set. They left you bound to the pole, you guess so that they can try to get answers out of you tomorrow. You still couldn’t imagine why they’d think you know something about someone named Wanheda.

~Bellamy’s POV~

It had been a long past two days inspecting the maps and going out to scout for Y/N. Bellamy has gotten barely any sleep. He’s at a loss of where Y/N could possibly be.

“Bellamy you need to sleep,” Octavia says.

“No,  I’m close. There’s only so many places left that Y/N could be,” Bellamy says, blinking his eyes to stay awake.

“I’ll sort the areas. Go get some sleep. If we want to find them, I need you at 100%,” Octavia scoots her brother out of his chair.

“Fine, but were going out first thing in the morning,” Bellamy says exiting the room.

The next morning Bellamy finds Octavia passed out at the desk, “Hey, how long were you up?” Bellamy asked his sister.

“Oh hey, uhhh I’m not sure. But I think I’ve figured out where Y/N might be,” Octavia says.

“Where?” Bellamy asks excitedly.

“Well, I remembered that Lincoln told me about this small village that was just outside of Trikru’s territory. They kind of outcasted themselves, not super friendly to outsiders,” Octavia explains.

“Let’s head out,” Bellamy says and goes to gather everyone. As everyone begins to head out they notice a group of people standing at the gate. Of course it was none other than Kane, Abby and a few other adults.

“Where are you going?” Kane asks the group.

“To find Y/N,” Bellamy answers.

“We think you’ve all spent enough time. I think it’s time we handle this before one of you is also taken or hurt,” Kane responds back.

“We know where they are, we can get them,” Bellamy fought back.

“Go back to your jobs,” Kane says in response. 

At first no one budged until Abby spoke up, “Now, unless you all want citations.”  

“Bellamy,” Kane stops him before he could get too far. “Show me where you think Y/N is,” Kane says walking with Bellamy to the map room.

About an hour went by and it had looked like the adults had taken a group out to find Y/N. After another hour or so, the group gathered and snuck out to really find Y/N. As Bellamy had directed Kane’s people in the opposite direction.

~ Y/N’s POV ~ 

The next day you were so weak front being forced to stand up. To your surprise you were woken up by someone tipping a cup of water to your mouth. Next they fed you some fruit, you tried to resist but they kept pressing the fruit to your mouth.

“You ready to give us some answers?” The man from yesterday asked. Again you kept your mouth shut. A few more hours of interrogation go by, but this time the man keeps his hands to himself. As if he was trying to give you a break.

“Someones here for you,” A woman says to the man after a few hours go by. The man reluctantly leaves the area to investigate. 

You stand there with weak legs trying to keep your body up. As you were about to pass out you feel gentle hands touch your cheeks. You flutter your eyes open and see a worried Octavia inspecting you. She quickly moves to unbound your hands, as soon as you’re unbound, your body just buckles underneath you. Before you hit the ground your body is lifted, you look up and see a just as worried Bellamy. 

“We need to get them back to camp quickly. They’ve lost a lot of blood and are weak,” Octavia says hastily. 

Ater a long trek back to Arkadia, you can see that you’re being greeted with a group of adults from inside the gates, “Told you we could find her,” Bellamy says walking past Abby and Kane.

“Take her to medical,” Abby says quickly noticing your condition. Bellamy gently walks you to medical and lays on top of a gurney. Abby comes to inspect your injuries, “Everyone out,” Abby orders your friends to leave. At first you could see they were reluctant before Abby begins to shuffle them out.

~ Bellamy’s POV ~

Bellamy waits anxiously from outside medical. After a few hours go by, he couldn’t wait any longer and decides to make his way into the ward. Abby greets him before he could make his way through the door.

“I figured you’d be anxious to see how she is,” Abby says stopping him.

“H–How is she?” He struggles to get out.

“They’ve sustained a lot of injuries, are dehydrated and lost quite a bit of blood. But they should be ok. But they can’t leave the ward for at least a day or two, I’d like to keep an eye on them. After that they should stay inside Arkadia,” Abby tells Bellamy. 

“Can I see them?” Bellamy asks.

“They’re asleep and needs to rest. Maybe tomorrow,” Abby tells Bellamy and points him to the exit. 

~ Y/N’s POV ~

You blink your eyes open and blinded by the brighter lights of the room. You lift your head and look around. Landing your eyes on a Bellamy sitting in a chair with his eyes closed. As you make a bit more noise by sitting up, Bellamy opens his eyes and moves to the cot. 

“Hey,” Bellamy speaks softly.

“Hey,” You say even quieter as if you had lost your voice. “How long was I asleep for?” You ask.

“About 10 hours,” Bellay answers, surprising you at the long length of time. “How are you doing?” Bellamy asks. 

Before you could respond, you see a mob of your friends approaching you. Each of them asking how you are and if you need anything. Soon enough Abby shuffles her way in, “Everyone out, she still needs to rest,” Abby says gently leading each of your friends out.

“How are you feeling?” Abby says approaching you as the last one leaves.

“Still tired and weak, but otherwise fine,” You say.

“Good, I’ll run some final tests and then you should be good to go,” Abby says. You spend the next hour with Abby inspecting your physical condition and asking you to do various tasks. “You’ve cleared all the tests. Although I still want you to take it easy, until you feel 100%. So that means no physically taxing work and staying inside Arkadia,” Abby tells you.

You were about to walk off until you realized that Abby wanted you to acknowledge her orders, “Ok,” you respond still trying to find your voice.

You head out of the ward and go to the mess hall, finding yourself very hungry after refusing food for several days. You try to find a quiet corner to eat but Monty had approached you. And you felt bad refusing to sit with him since you knew that your friends wanted to know you were ok. More of your friends slowly joined your table and soon enough it was a bit overwhelming. You get up and it seemed that everyone had noticed.

“Where are you going?” Jasper asks.

“I just wanted to go lay down for a bit,” You respond.

“Why don’t I walk you,” Jasper offers getting up from his seat.

“It’s ok. Thank though,” You say and walk off before anyone else could say anything.

The next day you went to go help out around Arkadia, sticking to the lowest impact type of work. Every few hours it seemed like one of your friends had something to say about resting or asking to help. It became to much and you didn’t like how they were trying to baby you. They knew that you know your limits, so you weren’t sure why they were being such helicopter friends. Once you were able to get away from your friends prying eyes, you head to the stables. You walk into Archer’s stable to see your horse for the first time since you were back. 

“Hey, I’m home, safe,” You say to comfort Archer.

You sat quietly with Archer until you hear soft footsteps approach, “I’m fine,” You say sternly as you hear the footsteps stop at the front of Archer’s stable, standing up as if you were about to leave. “Sorry,” You apologize looking up to see Bellamy. The one person who hasn’t been bothering you all day.

“It’s ok. I was just coming to check on Archer. But since you’re here, how are you feeling?” He asks walking into the stable.

“Fine,” you quickly answer.

“You sure?” He asks, clearly picking up on your attitude and moving closer to you.

You sigh heavily, “No. Everyone just keeps checking on me. I appreciate it but I’m feeling babied. I just want to rest and get back to 100% as soon as possible. They’re just stressing me out,” You admit.

“They just don’t want you to get hurt…anymore. Make sure that you’re recovering quickly, “ Bellamy advocates for your friends.

“I know but it just kinda feels suffocating,” You confess.

“I’ll let them know to back off a little,” Bellamy says, knowing that you’d appreciate that.

“Thanks, and for checking on Archer,” You say letting out a small smile.

A few hours later you were getting ready to sleep for the night. As you were just about to get in bed to relax, there’s a knock at your door. You open it and are greeted by Bellamy.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask letting him in.

“I just wanted to check on you. I know what you said earlier, but I figured that I’d still make sure you were ok after your first full day back,” Bellamy says. You picked up the slightest quiver in his voice, leading you to believe that there was more.

“I'm feeling better. Thanks for talking to everyone,” You smile.

“Good,” Bellamy says awkwardly. He was about to walk out but stops himself, “Actually I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to earlier but I figured you needed your space,” Bellamy says referring to your hiding spot.

“What is it?” You ask curiously. 

“I’m sorry it took three days to find you. And that you went through all of that pain. I’m sorry that you were taken in the first place, it was my fault, I should’ve been more vigilant. And I’m sorry that I didn’t come see you sooner,” Bellamy lets out. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fact that he was blaming himself for what happened, blaming himself for the pain that was inflicted on you.

“Hey, hey, hey. None of this was your fault. You couldn’t have know that there were grounders there. You weren’t expected to know exactly where I was. What really matters is that you didn’t give up, you worked your ass off to find me, now I’m safe and home,” You say and find yourself swinging your arms over his shoulders and pull him into a tight hug. He seemed to have settled himself into your  body, as if he could finally relax. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you too,” Bellamy confesses. 

You don’t respond to what Bellamy says, but pull out of your hug after a few minutes, finally taking a look at his face, “You look tired. Is it really true what Octavia told me? That you didn’t really sleep for the whole three days?” You ask as you can read how tired he is. He lightly nods his head, not wanting to admit it. 

You settle yourself into your bed, tired from standing so long, “ I just wanted to find you before anything bad happened,” Bellamy says, laying his body next to yours.

“That deosn’t mean that you had to put your own health at risk,” You say turning your body to face him. 

“I know, but I just needed you back. I missed you,” He softly speaks turning his head to face you.

“I missed you too,” You move to rest your head on his chest.

The next morning you wake up and turn over to find a peacefully sleeping Bellamy. You had almost forgotten that he never left. But you didn’t mind, it comforted you knowing that he stayed, “Morning,” You say softly after kissing his forehead to wake him up.

“Morning,” He says raspily with a smile forming.

[scribbledghost]

The Visitor - Part IV

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader (Vessel the character, not the real man behind the mask)

Rating: G

Word count: 1,738

Summary: Vessel and his visitor have a brief moment of respite.

Notes: 3rd person POV, use of she/her pronouns for reader. Fluff. Vessel fully leans into catching feelings. Part three can be found here || Part five can be found here.

Just as Vessel had expected, Sleep attempts to not only summon him as his visitor slept, but also attempts to invade her mind.

Vessel knows full well what Sleep's plan is - what its preferred modus operandi is. It will attempt to wear her down, forcing her to relive every painful moment of her life over and over again until she is desperate for any kind of relief. That is when Sleep will make her an offer; the same offer it made to Vessel himself, as well as the others: convert, and be renewed.

On the surface, it will seem crystalline. Genuine. An offer of help in such trying times. But it is nothing but a beautiful lie. Sleep will tell her that her visions will stop if she converts, but this could not be further from the truth. Vessel knows this first-hand.

So when he feels Sleep attempt to intrude on the woman's mind as she slumbers, he tightens his grip on her and uses every ounce of his power to force the entity away. He is soon engulfed by Sleep's visceral anger at his obstruction.

If you wish me to aid you in her conversion, she must trust me, he says sternly. I cannot earn her trust if she associates me with pain.

The rage he senses coming from his deity softens, but only slightly. In days past, he may have felt fear at earning such ire, but things are different now.

Circumstances have changed.

Vessel attempts to circumnavigate Sleep, swift in his arguments with the millennia-old pseudo-creature. He has been with Sleep for far too long, and as a result he knows when he can transgress boundaries and when he must acquiesce.

He always did have a silver tongue.

As the woman rests peacefully at his side, blissfully unaware of the tug-of-war happening next to her, Vessel does his best to convince Sleep that giving him complete freedom when it comes to her is necessary for her to convert.

She must still face her demons, he says, but you must allow me to aid her. If she views me as someone who will not harm her, it will be easier to ensure she becomes yours.

You act as though you have any say in the matter, Sleep responds coldly.

Your word is law, Vessel grovels, but I implore you to trust my judgement with this.

Sleep goes silent, though he knows it has not left him yet.

Have I ever broken my word before? Have I ever been anything but yours since my arrival?

Again, Sleep does not speak. But Vessel knows it is pondering its next words carefully.

And how do you plan on keeping your word this time, my vessel?

I will earn her trust, Vessel communes. Be kind to her. Help her when I can. I will be a light in the dark for her. Then, when the time comes for you to offer her a place amongst us, I will push her to agree.

So you will love her, Sleep corrects, then betray her.

Now it is Vessel's turn to retreat into silence. The first part of Sleep's accusation will be - and is - true. The latter portion, however, is not.

He guards his thoughts carefully, quietly hiding the bright flame of defiance stirring in the depths of him. If Sleep sees the slightest hint of a future deception, the deal will be off, and punishment will be swift. He shudders to think of what awful fate will befall his visitor should that happen.

Yes, Vessel says finally, doing everything in his power to seem convincing. If that is what it will take to ensure her safety, then that is what I will do.

Silence falls over the domain, an unsettling quiet blanketing the world. The only sound of life is the woman curled into Vessel's side quietly breathing in her sleep.

I will be watching.

It's all Sleep offers before Vessel no longer feels its presence.

Once he is certain Sleep has left him, he gently retreats into the mind of his visitor.

He finds her sitting alone atop a mountain, a sprawling landscape before her. Valleys and hills abound, interspersed with small lakes and rivers. A fine mist obscures much of the taller mountains, but the sun still shines across the realm despite it. The birdsong is gentle, and Vessel can almost feel the warmth of the sunshine.

Her own version of Eden, it seems.

She hears his approach, turning quickly to him. At first, she appears startled, but as soon as she lays eyes on him, her features melt into a smile.

"Vessel."

He has never heard his name sound so beautiful.

Vessel takes a seat on the grass next to her, wishing he could smell the crisp, clean air. He has not needed to breathe for many, many years now, but he still finds himself taking several deep, slow breaths.

He involuntarily tenses when he feels her shift closer to him. When she nearly backs away with apprehension, he reaches for her, laying a gentle hand on her back to hopefully draw her back in. Thankfully, she obliges, and Vessel once again tucks her against him.

"Can I ask you something?" she says quietly.

"Always."

"Do you... I mean... is your mask really just a mask? Or is it a part of you? I keep thinking I see the eyes blink sometimes, but I don't know if I'm just imagining things."

"It is... difficult to explain," Vessel begins. "It is indeed a mask, first of all. It is a sign of my devotion to Sleep. I can remove it at will, though I do not do so often. But it is also a part of me, connected to my body in a way I am unsure I could properly articulate. The eyes of my mask move with the eyes on my body - you were not imagining them blinking. And it stays connected to me without the aid of any sort of straps or fasteners. But I could not tell you how it does so."

"So, when did it become part of you?" she asks. "You've said before that you used to be human. Did the mask come when you... turned into a vessel? Or did it develop over time?"

"To be truthful, I am unsure," Vessel says, running a thumb along her upper arm. "It feels as though it has always been a part of me, though deep in my subconscious, I know that cannot be true. It has changed over the eons, and has not always looked like what you see now. But I cannot remember when it began to be something other than a simple mask."

She gives only a hum in response, falling quiet for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she says suddenly. "I know I'm asking a lot of questions."

She could continue to question him until the universe expands into infinity and Vessel would thank her for it.

"I will never disparage you for inquiring," Vessel says, gently leaning over to nudge her temple with his forehead before he can stop himself.

It's an almost intimate gesture, and he notices an almost imperceptible hitch in the woman's breath as he does so. He senses her heart rate increase, and vaguely he wonders how it would feel to replace his forehead with his lips against her.

But he does not. Instead, he pulls away, and immediately senses vague apprehension and confusion in his visitor.

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable," he says. "I failed to consider if such an act would overstep."

"No," she blurts, then goes quiet again for a spell. "...No. You didn't overstep. It was... it was nice."

He smiles, then leans his head over to nudge her again.

The two of them stay there for some time, quietly soaking in each other's presence amongst the leaves of Eden.

"I'm scared to wake up," she admits softly.

"You have nothing to fear," Vessel says. "I will be by your side."

"...What happens when the visions come again?" she asks.

"I will be by your side for those as well."

"But you can't stop them," she says, pulling away and gazing up at him.

"No," he admits, "I cannot, though I deeply wish I could. I can attempt to transfer some of your anguish to me, but I can only do so when you are actively in pain."

He watches her carefully, his cold heart cracking in his chest as he sees tears well in her eyes.

"I wish I knew what it wants from me," she says.

Vessel tenderly thumbs away a tear that begins to track down her cheek, briefly contemplating telling her of Sleep's plan to break her down and offer conversion. But she cannot guard her thoughts like he can against Sleep, and he fears cluing her in on his plot to spare her would result in Sleep discovering it the next time it probes her mind.

"You will find out in time," Vessel soothes. "Every visitor to the domain does. And when you do, I will be there to help you achieve whatever it is Sleep asks of you."

Then, slowly, he tilts his head down and presses his forehead against hers. However, it does not take long for her to duck down and lurch into Vessel's chest, shoulders shaking as she wraps her arms around him.

He holds her as she cries, petting her hair and offering what he hopes are soothing words.

Vessel has a vague intuition of what his visitor is truly needing. The reason why she was chosen to be a prize for Vessel.

She is lonely. Just as he is.

He can sense it, though he cannot discern the specifics. But she is so desperate for connection, for care, for warmth. For love. Yet, she is afraid. She fears the hurt that can come with vulnerability.

Vessel understands implicitly. Perhaps with time, he will be able to not just erode her walls, but his own as well. Only the future will tell.

As she calms, he senses that she is near waking. After gently wiping away stray tears, he helps her to her feet and extends a hand to her.

"If you would like," he says, "I can introduce you to the other vessels."

She hesitates for a moment, the landscape around her fading back to monotone gray, then slots her hand into his.

[yoomiwrites]

Boring Love⁵

Summary: (Y/N), a reserved shop worker, catches Hawks' attention as he seeks distraction from his hero duties.

Note: Please comment below this chapter if you want to switch to the 2rd pov (you) – I am unsure, but would continue with the 3rd pov (she/her) for now, unless you guys would prefer it the other way. :)

𓆩⚝𓆪

Y/N lay curled beneath the thin, pilled blanket, the weight of the day pressing into her chest like a stone. The air in her room was cool, almost sharp with the quiet that followed in Hawks' wake. The silence wasn't comforting. It never had been. But tonight, it was suffocating. The cat had settled at her feet, a soft, warm pressure that grounded her just enough to stop her from unraveling completely. It was oddly loyal for a creature she never asked for. She hadn’t even named it. Yet, here it was—curled up like it belonged. Like she had something to offer.

He had been in her apartment. He had played with her cat. He had looked around at her life—her mess, her broken heater, her empty fridge—and he had seen it all. Not just with his eyes, but with that irritating, unreadable perception of his. And then, just like that, he had threatened her. With a smile. A grin. Like it was all a joke.

Her eyes stared at the ceiling, unfocused. Shadows shifted gently across the cracked plaster as cars passed outside, headlights sweeping over her window. She hadn't bothered closing the curtain. She hadn’t cried. Not yet. But it sat just under the surface, like a tightness in her throat, a sting behind her eyes. She couldn’t let it out. Not when everything still felt so unreal.

Forget what you heard.

Never speak of it.

You’ll be in danger.

The words looped, carved into her memory with cruel precision.

Y/N clenched her jaw. She didn’t know what had been more unsettling—his warning or the fact that he’d spoken it with such frightening ease, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. A casual reminder that her life was in his hands. That her silence was the only reason she’d get to keep it.

The problem was, she wasn’t naive. She knew the world wasn’t fair. She’d known it when she left her home country with nothing but debt and a desperate hope that somewhere, she could start over. She’d known it when she’d taken the shop job, when she’d learned how to go hungry without flinching, when she’d taught herself to live quietly—to survive in the margins.

She hated it. She hated how powerless it made her feel.

He was dangerous. That much was obvious now. More than any villain she had ever seen on the news. Because Hawks didn’t look like danger. He charmed it into the room. Dressed it in casual laughter and feather-light jokes. But beneath it all, there was a coldness. A calculation. Something so carefully hidden behind those bright amber eyes.

But heroes…? She had always told herself she didn’t have an opinion. They were distant, anyway. People in the sky. Figures on screens and billboards. Loud, shining icons built to distract the public from everything that wasn’t clean or brave or heroic. She hadn’t hated them. But she hadn’t trusted them either. And now, here she was, lying in a bed that smelled faintly of stale laundry, haunted by the fact that one of the most powerful heroes in the country had stood in her doorway and delivered a threat cloaked in a smile.

What was he doing with them?

She hadn’t even asked why he was involved with the League.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the blanket. She’d been too stunned. Too afraid. But now that she was alone, her mind wouldn't stop asking.

Was it true? Was Hawks—the number two hero—actually working with villains?

Was he pretending? A spy? Or was the truth worse?

She shifted slightly, the cat stirring at her feet but not leaving. Its presence was oddly comforting, and that annoyed her too. She wasn’t someone who took comfort in things like this. Not in people, not in animals. She had learned not to.

But here she was. Cold. Confused. Angry. And so, so tired.

Or was it something else?

Her head turned into the pillow as she closed her eyes. The air smelled like dust and a little like canned chocolate from the half-eaten bar on the windowsill. Her stomach hurt from hunger, but the tension in her chest drowned it out. She didn’t know what scared her more—that Hawks had threatened her, or that part of her still didn’t know why he had come back. Had he been watching her again? Out of boredom? Curiosity?

And what if he came back?

Could she act normal? Pretend she knew nothing?

Would she be able to lie to someone who saw through her like smoke?

She didn’t know.

Y/N curled tighter beneath the blanket, the cat's gentle purrs like a metronome in the quiet. She didn’t want to dream. Not tonight. Because if she did, she knew it would be red—winged shadows, sharp amber eyes, and a smile that made her skin crawl.

She hated how familiar he already felt. She hated that, in some small corner of her mind, she had noticed how tired he had looked, too. But most of all, she hated that she couldn't stop thinking about him.

Not as a hero. Not as a threat. But as a person. And that? That was the most dangerous thought of all.

And yet — everything felt different.

Y/N stood in front of the shop door, keys in hand, the morning light falling like dust through the grey of the street. The metal handle was cold as she turned it, and for a moment, she just stood there, staring at the door as if it were a question she didn’t quite know how to answer anymore. Everything looked the same. The bell above the entrance still gave its meek, slightly off-pitch chime when the door opened. The scent of dried flowers and aging wood polish lingered in the air. The knick-knacks sat in their neat, cluttered displays like nothing had ever happened.

She stepped inside, locking the door behind her for a moment of false safety before flipping the sign to OPEN.

She worked slowly. Dusting shelves. Arranging things that didn’t need arranging. Her movements were careful, quiet. Intentional.

There was no Hawks today. No flutter of red feathers. No threat spoken with a smile. But he was there, in her mind — behind her eyes, behind the way her hand hovered just a second too long over the drawer where she kept her phone. Even though she knew it didn’t work. She hadn’t paid the bill. And part of her was glad it didn’t ring. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone.

The cat hadn’t followed her today. It had stayed curled in a patch of sunlight near the window when she’d left, eyes half-lidded in that disdainful way cats seemed to master. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. It had become something warm in the cold space of her apartment. Something alive.

“You’re the one who runs this place, right?” he asked, eyes flicking around the store, settling too long on the corners, the shelves.

A little like proof she hadn’t imagined the last two days. Around noon, a deliveryman came by. A new one.

Y/N nodded politely. “Yes. That’s me.”

“Huh,” he said, not writing anything down, not handing her a package. “Nice place. You get a lot of foot traffic around here?”

The question was harmless. Probably. But her chest tightened.

“Not much,” she replied, tone even. “Steady, though.”

He lingered. Smiled. Then said, “Well, take care, miss,” and left.

Y/N locked the door the moment it closed, heart pounding harder than she wanted to admit. She didn’t know why that had made her nervous. Maybe it was his eyes. Or maybe it was because now everything felt like a test. A probe. A hidden meaning she wasn’t equipped to decipher.

She took a deep breath and went back to work.

Mid-afternoon came and went. She sold a wind chime to a young woman and her boyfriend — both of them too absorbed in each other to notice Y/N barely spoke. They left laughing, sunlight catching in the hanging decorations above the door. The light glittered. It felt too bright.

Another customer came in. A man in a tan coat, too clean, too put-together for this neighborhood. He looked around without touching anything. Walked the perimeter of the store. Glanced at the ceiling. Then left without saying a word.

She watched him go, hand resting on the counter, nails pressing into the worn wood.

Was she imagining it? Was she being paranoid?

…Or was Hawks right?

Maybe she was in danger.

A soft breath escaped her lips. She closed early. Just by a little. Enough to feel like she was in control of something.

She didn’t follow it.

As she stepped out of the shop, the cold air rushed into her lungs and made her blink. Her hood went up almost instinctively. She paused just before locking the door and pulled out the little "CLOSED TODAY" sign from the window display. She clipped it on the inside of the glass before stepping back. From the corner of her eye, she saw something red — a single feather drifting past, caught in a lazy spiral by the wind before disappearing into a side street.

She didn’t even turn her head.

But her heart pounded.

Back in her apartment, she fed the cat. Or tried to. It sniffed the food like it was beneath it. Then, with a bored flick of its tail, it walked away and perched on the back of the couch like a sullen roommate.

Was he watching her again?

Y/N sat in the middle of the floor, back against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest. She hated this. Hated that she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t tell if the world was dangerous now — or if it had always been and she was just noticing.

Why?

Why her?

She wasn’t important. She wasn’t special. She wasn’t involved in anything. She was barely surviving most days. She couldn’t even afford proper groceries, and now she was paranoid about customers and deliverymen and feathers on the wind.

Her fingers clenched tighter around her knees.

“I’m not part of this,” she muttered aloud. Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn’t used it in hours. “I don’t want to be part of this.”

But tonight?

The cat meowed once. Not helpful. Not sympathetic. She buried her face in her arms. Tomorrow, maybe it would feel less sharp. Maybe the silence in the shop wouldn’t feel like it was waiting to be broken. Maybe she’d laugh at herself, call it stress, sleep-deprived delusions. Blame the cat. Blame the weather. Blame the way the world looked when you were tired and alone and invisible.

The first sound Y/N heard was the hiss.

Tonight she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching her from the shadows just beyond the glass. Not a villain. Not a monster. But something with amber eyes and a voice that sounded like warmth right before the cold set in.

Sharp. Sudden.

It sliced through the quiet of the night like something from a dream she hadn’t realized she was having. Her eyes opened slowly, struggling to catch up with her heart, which was already racing.

The cat.

Another hiss — louder now, followed by a low growl, deep in its small throat.

She blinked.

She sat up. The room was mostly dark, save for the cold blue light bleeding in from the streetlamp outside her window. It cast long, strange shadows across the cluttered floor. Books. A cracked mug. A pair of socks. The mess she’d almost gotten used to.

The cat stood by the door, tail bristled to twice its size, ears pinned back, eyes fixed on something Y/N couldn’t see.

“Hey,” she whispered hoarsely. “It’s nothing.”

Her voice was dry from sleep, barely convincing even to herself. Still, she tried again.

“It’s just the pipes or something. Heating system.”

She knew it wasn’t. The heating didn’t work. The cat didn’t move. Another hiss. A scratch of claws on the floor. Then… silence.

Y/N stayed frozen in her bed. The sheets were cold around her legs. The air felt wrong. Still, heavy. As though the apartment was holding its breath. She reached down, fingers brushing across the floor until they found her glasses. She slid them on. The world sharpened, but it didn’t help. It only made the darkness clearer — more defined in its edges.

No.

Then came the second sound. A soft tap. Like fingertips on wood. From the other side of the door.

Something was out there.

Her mind rejected it immediately. Told her it wasn’t real. Told her it was probably the wind, even though the windows were shut tight and she lived on the fifth floor. Her stomach curled inward. The cat’s ears twitched. Another hiss. Another long, bone-deep growl.

Something that made her body tighten instinctively, every part of her going quiet like prey sensing a predator in the brush.

Don’t panic. Don’t—

Tap.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

This time, longer. A dragging sound, almost thoughtful. Like someone — or something — trailing fingers across the cheap wood of her door. She slid out of bed. Moved slowly. The floor creaked under her foot, and she winced, heart lurching. The cat ran to her, then, leaping onto the bed, circling once before pressing itself to her calves.

She scooped it into her arms. It fought for a second, then went still. Its tiny heart thumped against her chest, fast and fearful.

Another sound — but not from the door this time.

Outside.

She turned her head sharply toward the window. Her blinds were only half-drawn, slanted at odd angles, casting warped lines across the opposite wall. She stepped toward them, careful, bare feet silent on the floor. She didn’t know why she was drawn to it. Maybe part of her needed to see. Needed to know.

The cat squirmed again. She tightened her grip.

But something still felt… off.

She inched closer to the glass, pushed the blinds aside with one finger. Outside, the city looked the same. Quiet street. Flickering lamplight. Shadows from buildings that hadn’t changed in the past ten years. Nothing moved. No footsteps. No silhouette. No threat.

Wrong.

Her window was too high to jump from — at least, she assumed so. She didn’t know exactly how many meters it was, but it looked far. Too far. The fire escape didn’t reach her floor.

She was being watched. She knew that feeling now. And yet, she couldn’t see anyone. It was almost worse that way.

She stared out into the dark, trying to keep her breathing quiet, the cat cradled against her ribs. It blinked slowly now, as if it, too, was unsure if the danger had passed… or if it was just pretending.

Seconds passed. Then a minute. Another. Nothing. Stillness.

Y/N backed away from the window slowly, never turning her back to it. She didn’t speak. She didn’t want to hear her own voice echo in this cold, narrow space. Her apartment felt like a dollhouse — one where the roof might be lifted off at any moment and something would peer in. She crawled back into bed. Pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, still clutching the cat like a stuffed animal. It made a soft noise, half-purr, half-sigh, and nestled itself against her legs again.

Y/N lay awake for a long time. Eyes open. Heart alert. Waiting.

The street was still empty when Y/N left her apartment.

She hadn’t eaten.

It was early. Too early. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet — just a pale thread of light stretching across the rooftops like a promise it couldn’t quite keep. Her hood was pulled over her head, hands stuffed deep in her pockets. The cat had meowed after her as she locked the door, but she didn’t have the energy to look back. Her legs were sore from a night of half-sleep and tangled thoughts.

Didn’t matter.

She knew where she was going.

The security store wasn’t far. She’d walked past it a hundred times without really seeing it, a dull corner tucked between a hardware place and a pharmacy. The sign buzzed softly when she stepped inside, fluorescent lights overhead flickering like they weren’t sure they wanted to be awake either.

It was warmer inside than she expected. And… cleaner.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asked, blinking at her like she might disappear.

“I’m looking for…” she hesitated. “A camera. For the door. Like… one of those motion sensor ones.”

He perked up. “Oh, sure. Yeah, we’ve got a few good models. You want just the camera, or one with a mic and speaker too?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Shrugged.

“Just the camera.”

A small exhale escaped her.

He walked her through options. Explained angles. Battery life. Data storage. Brand differences. She nodded at all the right moments, listened to none of it. Her eyes focused on the price tags. The cheapest one was almost three days’ wages — if she skipped groceries. If she didn’t pay the phone bill again. If she didn’t need cat food or rent or—

“I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.

“Sure,” he replied with the kind of forced cheerfulness that only made her feel worse. “You come back any time.”

The bell jingled faintly as she stepped back into the street. The cold air bit at her cheeks now, sharper than before. She rubbed her hands together through the fabric of her sleeves, walking nowhere at first — just… walking.

Maybe.

She was tired. Her feet ached. Her ribs ached. Her mind ached. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the scratching. Maybe it had been nothing. A stray animal. A broken pipe finally groaning back to life.

But what if it hadn’t?

What if someone had really been there?

What if it had something to do with what she’d heard that night in the alley? What if the feather drifting outside her shop hadn’t been a coincidence? She turned a corner without thinking, boots crunching against old salt on the sidewalk.

HAWKS HERO AGENCY

She knew the way now. She’d seen it enough from her shop’s window — that sleek building with its mirrored glass, its proud lettering above the door.

She stopped across the street. Cars passed. The sun rose higher. People were beginning to filter onto the sidewalks now, their days starting like hers never had.

Y/N stared at the front doors of the agency. A part of her wanted to scoff at herself. What was she even doing? What would she say? Hi. You threatened me, and now I’m scared. Can I trust you or not?

This feeling.

Was this…help-seeking? Or some form of warning? She didn’t know. But she crossed the street anyway. Half a step closer. Her stomach a knot. Her thoughts a blur. Whatever she found in there — whatever she asked or didn’t ask — she just wanted one thing to stop:

This pressure behind her eyes, this burning between her shoulder blades, this sense that at any second, someone might lift the lid off her life and find her exposed underneath.

Y/N stood at the desk, her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag.

The glass doors slid open. And Y/N stepped inside. The front lobby of the Hawks Hero Agency was sleek, pristine, and cold in that corporate sort of way. Marble floors. Tall ceilings. A line of glass security barriers manned by men in black uniforms. Even the plants looked suspiciously well-trimmed, like they’d been hired for appearance and attitude.

“I just need to talk to him,” she said — again. “I’m not some fan. I’m not here to waste his time.”

The woman behind the counter smiled the way receptionists are trained to smile — polite, bright, entirely immovable.

“I’m sorry, but Hawks isn’t available for drop-ins. You’re welcome to submit a public inquiry through the form on our website.”

“I work across the street,” Y/N said, and heard her voice hitch somewhere between tired and sharp. “I’m not going to email him.”

“I understand. But we really can’t disclose the whereabouts or schedules of Pro Heroes. Especially not someone with Hawks’ clearance.”

“He knows me.” She instantly regretted saying that — because how did that even sound? “I didn’t mean it like— It’s not what you think.”

The receptionist tilted her head sympathetically, like Y/N was just another hopeful in a sea of hopefuls. “I’m sure if it’s important, he’ll reach out to you again.”

Y/N stared at her. Just stared. Her stomach turned over — hunger and humiliation twisting tight. The weight of the sleepless night, the hissing, the sounds at the door — all of it threatened to crash through her chest at once.

She crossed the street again, cutting between traffic with little care. Her shop came into view, small and crooked compared to the towering glass monolith she’d just exited.

She stepped away. Not another word. She left through the same doors she came in, the agency’s shine and glamour dulling behind her with every step. The wind bit harder now. Her hood was down. Her hands cold.

Because someone was standing there.

The CLOSED TODAY sign still hung slightly askew on the door. She didn’t bother straightening it. Her key was halfway in the lock when she stopped.

Him.

There, casually leaned beside the door like it was his usual morning routine, stood Hawks — all tousled hair and smug little grin, a paper bag dangling from one hand, feathers notably absent.

She blinked, words frozen in her throat.

“Hey,” he said, voice light like they’d just bumped into each other on the street. “Rough morning?”

She didn’t answer.

He held up the bag. “Brought breakfast. Thought I might owe you that. And maybe… a second conversation.”

Y/N’s fingers remained tight around the key in the lock.

“What—are you stalking me now?”

Hawks raised both eyebrows. “Nooo. Not stalking. Just…bird-watching.”

She gave him a look so flat it could have killed lesser men.

He laughed. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Bad joke.”

She crossed her arms. “I went to your agency.”

“I know. Security called me. Said a girl with a messy bun and storm cloud energy tried to threaten her way past the front desk.”

“I didn’t threaten—”

“Kidding,” he said quickly. “Mostly.”

She sighed, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead. “You’re not funny.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” He stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “Mind if I come in? Or are we eating cold pastries on the sidewalk?”

Hawks grinned. “That sounded like a yes.”

Y/N looked at him for a long moment. The wind brushed her hair into her face. She didn’t move. But then, her stomach gave a loud, undignified growl. She winced.

Inside, the shop felt like a different world. Dusty motes drifted lazily through warm slivers of sunlight, casting soft shadows over shelves filled with tiny glass animals, old postcards, and hand-painted ornaments that hadn't sold in months.

And for reasons she couldn’t entirely explain — not even to herself — she unlocked the door, pushed it open, and let him inside. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the cold.

"You know, I’ve passed this place a hundred times," he said, stepping over to the small table near the back. "It’s got that dusty-lantern-in-an-alley kind of vibe. You’re not even trying to make money, are you?”

Hawks walked in like he owned the place. Like he belonged there. He moved with the ease of someone who had never been denied space in his life — peeling off his jacket, tossing it carelessly over the counter, grabbing one of the chocolate bars from the display shelf and spinning it between his fingers.

Y/N didn’t answer.

She crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

She pulled her hood down and stepped around the counter to lean against the stool she usually used to rest her feet when the place was empty. He looked up at her as he opened the bag. “You always this chatty in the morning, or just when I'm around?”

“Hey,” he said, holding up both hands, “I brought you food. That’s called being nice. Ever heard of it?”

“You’re making me uncomfortable.”

The words dropped like a stone between them — small, hard, and impossible to ignore.

Hawks blinked.

The tension that had been teasing around the edges of the room snapped into place — no longer disguised by lightness or swagger. He let the smile fade, just slightly. Not gone. But dulled.

He leaned forward on his elbows, the rustling of the paper bag loud in the stillness.

“…Fair,” he said after a beat. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Y/N’s arms stayed crossed. Her shoulders were stiff. She stared at a point just beyond him — not quite ready to meet his gaze, not quite ready to trust what she might find there.

“What do you want from me?” she asked again, quieter this time.

It took him a moment to respond.

“I should ask you that,” he said finally. “You came to my agency.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone. If that’s what you think. I’m not— I just…”

“…felt watched.”

That surprised her.

Hawks leaned back, exhaling as if the confession had been his. “You said that before, didn’t you? That you feel watched.”

She gave a small nod. “At night. In the stairwell. In the alley. I just— I don’t know.”

His amber eyes softened a little, though there was still something unreadable there. Something he wasn’t saying.

“I’m not watching you,” he said. “Not anymore, anyway.”

That made her blink. “…Anymore?”

He waved the question away. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re interesting. Or… you were, at least. But I don’t need to keep an eye on you.”

“Because you trust me?”

“No,” he said, lips tugging faintly at the corner. “Because I know you’ll behave.”

She stared at him, lips parting slightly — not from offense, but something colder. Something closer to fear.

Hawks saw it. And whatever grin he’d been holding onto vanished completely.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” Y/N said.

“I don’t mean that as a threat,” he said more seriously, voice dropping just a notch. “Look, you got unlucky. Wrong place, wrong time. You overheard something you shouldn’t have. And I told you not to talk because I need things quiet — not just for you, but for a lot of people. What I’m doing… it’s important.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted a boring life.”

“Yeah,” Hawks muttered. “I kind of figured.”

She looked up at him, the weight of days, of fear, of confusion pressing behind her eyes.

“I don’t feel safe.”

“…Then let me help.”

And it wasn’t just the words. It was the way she said them — quietly, like a confession. Like something she wasn’t supposed to say aloud. Hawks leaned forward again, elbows on knees, watching her with a gaze that was no longer playful.

Y/N flinched. “Help? How?”

“I can check your apartment. Do a proper sweep. Change the locks. Maybe add some seals. We’ve got tech that can alert you directly if someone’s near your door. I can have someone run surveillance from a distance. No one has to know. It’ll just be between you and me.”

She studied him.

“You’d really do that?”

“I already have,” he said. “Half of it, anyway.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Don’t freak out.” He held up a hand. “You were already scared. You think I’m gonna just leave you like that?”

“…I’m not a cat person,” she murmured at last.

Y/N’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She didn’t know what she was trying to say. That he had no right? That she should be furious? But all she felt was the faintest relief. Like someone had finally lifted one edge of the weight pressing on her chest.

Hawks blinked at the sudden turn.

“…Okay?”

“But I think I’m stuck with it.”

He smiled, softer this time. “Yeah. That happens.”

[darkrpfinders]

I’m Evan: 24 and Australian (GMT+11).

MDNI / 18+ only: have your age on your blog or I won’t reach out. I prefer 3-5 paragraph replies, in 3rd person POV. Discord only. This will be angst and smut heavy but I still want a plot going on too.

I’m looking to write a king that is known for his ruthless cruelty. The borders are surrounded by body strewn battle fields and he will wipe entire towns off the map for the rumour of rebellion. He revels in the suffering of his people and endorses the worst of his enablers. He cherishes loyalty, but will betray them without any hesitation. He is narcissistic, power hungry, and an irredeemable villain.

This is where your character comes in. Are they the hero coming to stop him? One of his concubines? An old childhood friend? An arranged marriage from a fearful country? Regardless they end up under his thumb and unable to escape his ruthless clutches as he moulds them into the perfect “queen” he’s been searching to rule beside him.

I’d prefer female characters or feminine/softer men, and trans/nb characters are welcome too! Fantasy races like elves and tieflings are loved as well as spellcasters. Just please keep in mind that the end goal is your character submitting: though how is completely up to you (eg. fear, money, power, lust, trying to pull the strings from the background, or a stockholm syndrome love).

If you’re interested please be alright with the following content: non/dub-con, violence / gore, sado-masochism, power imbalances, blackmail, manipulation, emotional and physical abuse, and public sex. Potentially more too! Just no 🍪 - everything else is ok with discussion!

If interested please like this post or message me! Thank you! 🖤⚔️🥀

.

[daisynik7]

The Takada-Chan Meet and Greet

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~3.1k

cw: explicit language, suggestive dialogue, switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd)

Summary: Your first Todo-free Takada-Chan event! Or so you think.

Author's Notes: Here’s Chapter 3! Thank you for supporting this series so far. In this story, Todo lives in Tokyo; he moved after graduating from Kyoto Jujutsu High School, in case you want some background info. Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Todo hates being late to Takada-Chan events. Absolutely despises it. However, his duties as a Jujutsu Sorcerer always come first; that’s the vow he committed to. Being a grade 1 sorcerer involves responsibilities that even the pop idol can’t supersede, much to his dismay.

The Saturday of Takada-Chan’s Meet and Greet, he is assigned a mission to exorcise an unregistered special grade cursed spirit outside of Tokyo. He convinces his brother, Yuji, to team up with him to knock this out as soon as possible. They successfully eliminate it, but it ends up taking them the entire morning, leaving Todo to rush back home to get ready. He’s scratched up a bit; nothing that a hot shower, moisturizer, and deodorant won’t fix. Still, he’s exhausted. It doesn’t matter, though; he will push through the pain for Takada-Chan!

As he changes, he recalls the most recent Handshake event he attended. It somehow became the best Takada-Chan experience, all thanks to that girl, his rival. The chick who gets under his skin, always challenging him, and calling him an idiot. They only received special treatment because the pop idol assumed they were a couple. How ridiculous. As if Aoi Todo could ever be with anyone besides Takada-Chan.

However, he is still a man. There’s no denying that he checked this girl out while she stood in line in front of him. He always makes it a point to observe a person, especially women. It’s for scientific data, of course, or at least that’s what he tells himself to justify it. In all honestly, he finds her cute; she has a nice smile, even though it’s never directed at him. And sure, maybe his eyes have drifted further south, mostly out of curiosity. Even he can admit to himself that she has a nice butt. He can’t help but acknowledge a beautiful ass when he sees one.

Personality-wise, he can’t straight up say he hates her. She’s annoying for trying to compete with him to be Takada-Chan’s #1 fan. She’s his rival when it comes to that. But deep down, he respects how she doesn’t back down from him. She challenges him, which he doesn’t mind since he loves competition. It keeps things interesting. It’s amusing how fired up she gets over all the stupid shit he says. And he says a lot of stupid shit.

He doesn’t like how she calls him an idiot, considering he has the highest IQ possible. But he can’t completely blame her either, given what an asshole he’s been to her so far. She probably hates him. 

Well, it doesn’t matter. The only woman for him is Takada-Chan. He doesn’t have to waste his time trying to get other women to like him. Especially her, his enemy. That’s all she’ll ever be to him anyways.

~~~

The morning of Takada-Chan’s Meet and Greet, you are busy helping Sara prepare for a private party at her family’s restaurant. As much as you would have preferred to arrive at the event early to secure a good spot in line, your best friend asked for help and you couldn’t deny her of that. She deals with plenty of your ridiculous requests, so offering her a hand is the least you could do. 

As you lay out new tablecloths, Sara asks, “So, think you’ll see that himbo again today?”

“Todo? I don’t know, I hope not,” you reply. 

She sets a centerpiece down in the middle of the table. “You might want to reconsider your stance on pretending you two are a couple. I know you said you wouldn’t go along with it again, but what if you keep getting special treatment? This might be your best option.”

You look at her, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not seriously suggesting that my best option is to pretend that egotistical gorilla is my boyfriend, are you?”

She shrugs. “What’s there to lose?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. My pride. My dignity. My self-respect!”

She snickers. “Oh honey, that went out the window as soon as you started screaming Love Gem at each other.”

You give her a playful shove as you move on to the other tables, not responding to her little jab. Smirking, she adds, “Yuji said that Todo is actually really nice once you get to know him.”

“I’ve met this guy twice already and he’s been everything but nice. And since when are you and his friend on a first name basis?”

“Oh, we’ve been texting ever since we exchanged numbers at the Handshake Event. He’s super funny,” she explains, nonchalant. “Anyways, my point is, maybe you should try to play nice with Todo. There might be some benefits you can get out of this odd relationship you two have. Also, he’s hot. Maybe you can have angry hate sex with each other. How great would that be?!”

“Sara!” you exclaim, scandalized.

She giggles, giving you a sly look. “Oh please, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it! He’s totally your type and you know it.”

You stay quiet because it’s true. It’s not like you’ve thought about doing it with him. But he is your type, there’s no denying it. Ripped, tall, that low gruff he has in his voice. That mysterious and alluring scar on his face. What’s the story behind that?

He has an awful personality, though. Just awful. Cocky, arrogant, overbearing, irritating. A straight up asshat.

Is it a tad bit cute how smitten he gets around Takada-Chan? Yeah, maybe. Just a tad. The tiniest morsel of cuteness. Other than that, there are no redeeming qualities about him. Zero, nada, zilch. And you’re convinced that there’s nothing he can do that will change your feelings about him. 

After helping at the restaurant, you board the bus to the familiar convention center. The Meet and Greet starts in an hour at 1 PM, so as expected, there are already hundreds of fans in line. Many are already inside, so the sheer volume of fanatics outside has you assuming the worst. Today is going to be a long day of waiting for your turn with Takada-Chan. You scan the line of people ahead of you to see any familiar face, specifically Todo. He’s probably first, gloating to whoever would listen about how he’s #1. Ugh. At least this will be the first Takada-Chan event uninterrupted by him. You’re not sure why you’re even thinking of him in the first place, you need to enjoy this moment of being Todo-free.

People continue to fall in line behind you. You chat with some fans next to you, sharing your favorite songs and iconic concert moments. From the corner of your eye, you notice a familiar figure approaching slowly from the across the street. To your surprise, it’s Todo. He’s walking with a small, but noticeable limp towards the front door of the convention center, hands in his pockets. He looks through the doors, then down the line of people wrapped around the building. His whole body heightens as he takes a deep sigh and makes his way to the back, looking defeated with his head down, staring at his feet, clearly frustrated. You can’t help but feel sorry for the guy.

Once he’s within earshot, you call out to him, “Hey Todo!”

He lifts his head to glance at you with a neutral expression, waiting for you to say something else.

You’re not even sure why you call out to him. What are you supposed to say? Do you want to be a little shit and boast? He would probably do the same to you, in fact you’re certain he would. But something about his expression in this moment is pitiful. You’re not that much of a cold-hearted bitch to kick him while he’s down, right?

“I guess we were both too busy today to claim our rightful spots. We’ll get it next time.” You give him a tight-lipped smile.

He lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, sure.” Then he drags his feet towards the end of the long line.

Why did you say something so unnecessary and useless? As if saying anything can make him feel better. And why do you care about making him feel better? This guy is nothing to you. It’s not like the two of you are friends.

You look back to see if you can still see him, but by now, he’s disappeared into the throng of people.

By 12:30 PM, the crowd is buzzing. Takada-Chan will be arriving any moment. There’s a chance that she will walk through the front entrance to greet her fans. Right on cue, a stretch limo appears on the street and the pop idol steps out, surrounded by security guards. She’s wearing an off-the-shoulder cropped blouse paired with a checkered mini skirt, strutting towards the fans in black platform heels, so stylish and cool as always. She starts near the rear, waving and smiling. Your heart races with excitement as she gets closer and closer to you. As she passes by, you wave enthusiastically. She smiles and continues, but then does a double take. “Hey! I recognize you! You were at my handshake event just a few weeks ago! One half of the couple! What’s your name again?”

Stuttering, you say your name. “Y-Y-Yes! That’s me!” You can’t believe that she recognizes you!

The idol gives you an adorable pout, asking, “Where is your other half?”

What should you do? You told yourself you wouldn’t continue along with this lie. You’re supposed to hate this man. He is your sworn enemy, arch-nemesis, your rival. On the other hand, Takada-Chan is standing right here, talking to you! Would you even be in this situation if it wasn’t for this huge misunderstanding? At the same time, you can’t get his sad face out of your mind. He’s probably still wallowing in self-pity. 

Thinking on your feet, you quickly blurt out, “He’s way in the back of the line! He had work earlier today, so he came late. He didn’t feel right getting in line with me since there were already so many other fans lined up, so he just went to the back, that’s why we aren’t together.” You manage to put on your most convincing frowny face, praying to the Idol gods that this little fib is convincing enough.

She nods, not saying anything at first. Then, she gives you a mischievous grin. “Well, we can’t have that can we? Let’s go get your boyfriend.” Your eyes widen as she holds your hand and drags you out of line towards the back. You’re at a complete loss for words, no idea what is happening. When you reach Todo, his sullen face instantly changes as soon as he sees Takada-Chan. He gives you a quick glance and his expression changes from delight to confusion.     

With a bright smile, the pop idol says, “Hello! Your girlfriend told me all about your situation. Follow me!” With her free hand, she grabs Todo’s wrist and leads the two of you into the convention center, security guards surrounding you. There are gasps and excited cheers from the others as you all make your way further into the building.

Todo, currently transfixed by her  grip on his wrist, manages to whisper to you, “What’s going on?”

As quietly as you can, you respond, “I’ll explain later, just play along.” He nods, continuing to focus on Takada-Chan’s grip, blushing the whole way.

She leads you past the Meet and Greet table, through a door in the back that turns into a hallway. Most of the guards stay behind, leaving you with just the pop idol and the same guard who handed you the posters at the Handshake Event. She releases her grips on both of you, facing you, still smiling brightly. Her hand rests on the doorknob as she announces, “Welcome to my dressing room!” The door swings open, like the pearly gates of heaven. You can’t believe you’re about to enter Takada-Chan’s dressing room! What’s more unbelievable is that Takada-Chan herself has invited you!

You and Todo gasp as you walk in, taking in this behind-the-scenes glimpse into the pop idol’s life. Takada plops down on the couch, twirling one of her pigtails with her fingers. “We still have a few minutes before the Meet and Greet starts. I wanted to give my favorite couple a very exclusive experience!” She pats the space next to her on the couch, motioning for you to sit down, specifically you. From your peripheral, you see Todo’s eyes widen, green with envy. Oh, how you wish you could take a picture of this and remember it forever. He’s so jealous of you. This is a feeling you can get used to.

For some reason, you don’t sit down. Instead, you smile at Todo, putting on this fake girlfriend act. “Todo, sweetie, you go ahead and sit. You’ve been working hard all morning.”

Why did you do this? You don’t owe this guy anything. Well, maybe you do. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t even be here right now. And Todo is so in love with Takada-Chan, you feel bad taking this rare opportunity away from him. After all, he did look rough today. Maybe you have just a microscopic soft spot for him. Maybe.

His mouth opens in shock as Takada-Chan squeals and exclaims, “Oh my gosh, you two are soooooo cute! I can’t!” She scoots over to the edge of the couch to accommodate Todo’s very large body. He looks nervous, giddy, and baffled all at the same time.

Sensing that Todo is too thrilled to speak, you initiate conversation with Takada-Chan, thanking her first for this very intimate Meet and Greet, and asking her questions about being a pop idol, which she kindly answers. She asks you about your “relationship” with Todo, which you do a lot of quick thinking and lying to answer. Basically, the story is that you’ve been together for four years, first meeting at a university party. You were attracted to his huge muscles and “quiet” personality, he was attracted to your quick wit and charm. He got into Takada-Chan only because of you and often praises you for being her #1 fan. Now you both live in studio apartment together in Tokyo with a pet turtle named Nobu.

If you are going to lie your ass off, you might as well milk it for all it’s worth.

When it gets closer to 1 PM, Takada gets up and goes over to her dresser. She signs a poster with both yours and Todo’s name on it, and writes, “To my favorite couple! Can’t wait to see you both at the next event!” She finishes it with a giant heart and her signature.

“Let’s take a picture before you two leave!” Takada-Chan stands in the center as you and Todo squeeze on either side of her. She puts up a peace sign, to which you both follow. Todo, who hasn’t said a word this whole time, holds out his arm with his phone in hand and takes the picture. It turns out to be a very cute photo.

You say your goodbyes, Todo blushing and still unable to speak, then the security guard walks you out through the back exit. You lead him towards the same bench area you found at the last event and sit down, still buzzing with excitement. You just spent twenty minutes alone with Takada-Chan. It’s like a dream come true!

The sound of his voice startles you. “That was crazy.”

You giggle, turning to face him. “She knows our names.” You unravel the rolled-up poster that she signed and stare at the message she wrote. It’s so surreal!

You’re both quiet for a few moments until Todo clears his throat. “Thanks. For doing all that. I don’t know exactly what you said to her, but whatever it was, it worked.” He pauses before asking, “Why did you do that?”

You shrug your shoulders and reply, “She asked where my boyfriend was, and I just came up with something. I don’t think she would let me into her dressing room alone. Unfortunately, we’re a packaged deal now.”

He chuckles. “I guess so. I just can’t believe I sat next to her. Our knees touched!”

“Why didn’t you say anything? She was sitting right next to you; I feel like I did all the talking.”

“I was so nervous. I couldn’t believe we were in her dressing room. I didn’t know what to say. You really held it down for us.” He looks at you, smiling. It wasn’t the shit-eating grin or cocky smirk you’ve seen from him before. It’s a friendly smile. A genuine smile. 

It catches you off guard. This might be the first time you and Todo aren’t bickering with each other. The first time he’s not being a cocky asshole to you. You stare down at the poster in your hands, debating in your head. Deciding, you hand it over to him. He doesn’t take it, he only gives you a curious look and says, “What are you doing? You should keep it.”

“No, it’s okay. I shamelessly used you today. Doesn’t feel right to keep it.”

“I don’t mind if you use me,” he says in that low voice. And there’s that smirk again.

Rolling your eyes, you say, “Just take it, okay? I’ve already made up my mind.”

He continues to look at you oddly. “Seriously, why are you doing this?”

“Does it matter? Take the poster. It’s really not a big deal. Just send me that picture and we’ll call it even.”

“Fine, give me your number then.”

You recite your phone number to him. After a few seconds, you feel the vibration of your phone. There it is, the picture. And his phone number. For some reason, you feel nervous having his phone number. Like a line has been crossed. There’s a noticeable difference in the energy between you two now. It’s weirdly peaceful.

After a few moments of silence, Todo huffs and cross his arms in front of his chest. “This doesn’t change anything, just so you know. I’m still her #1 fan.”

Never mind. Hostile energy is back.

“Aww, and just when I thought we could be friends,” you retort, rolling your eyes.

He looks at you with an eyebrow raised and grins. In his low voice, he says, “I don’t think we’ll ever be friends.”

You watch him as he walks away, signed poster in hand. His words seem harsh, but you can’t help but feel like there is a hidden meaning behind what he just said.

[midsommarkjae]

☾ M/M RP PARTNERS SEARCH ☽

You might have seen my previous posts from a month or two ago, well there's some changes here! Let me reintroduce myself: I'm 25+ in age, looking for people 21 and above to rp male/male, mostly oc and au (more on this below), dark themes and kinks, with a decent balance of plot and smut, discord based. I have some oddly specific preferences for fcs, so I want to be up-front and honest.

FACECLAIMS & DYNAMICS

So if you recognize my ads, you might know I have a Soobin x Mingyu problem, and yes it's still here. I want to rp them together, specifically top Soobin with bottom Mingyu, and I can write either of them. But I'm open to other top fcs (whether you or I play the role), including but not limited to: San, Nam Joohyuk, Sanha etc. So long as one of us is Mingyu, we can work something out! (He's my babygirl can you tell...)

I'm a personal fanatic when it comes to pretty puppyboy tops and buff masculine bottoms, which explains my obsession with Soobgyu. Oh and I hope it's obvious but I'm open to playing either the top or the bottom, can write dom/sub/switch, but not into writing vers. Btw if you're transmasc like me or love a good transmasc character... I'm obsessed with transmasc Mingyu.

If you've gotten this far and are still interested, please keep reading!

WRITING STYLE

Short paragraphs in past tense and 3rd pov is my go-to. I only write more if I'm very inspired or setting a scene. I prefer faster pacing and keeping the momentum over long, flowery replies that take days to write, and contain a lot of filler. In terms of word count, I don't expect you to match length, though I will try to most of the time.

Side note: I am also open to text style and casual semi-lit rp.

PLOT & CHARACTERS

Action packed, dark and gritty romance, with a modern fantasy backdrop is my usual favorite setting, but I am very much open to all kinds of themes, tropes, genres. i like plot lines full of twists and turns, keeps me on my toes, ones that feel exciting to write. As for smut, I'm admittedly a freak and I love my fair share of smut focused plots, or a balanced split of smut and plot. Fucked up kinks and tropes are my bread and butter, but I can always accommodate. Also I'm not very good with slow burn I'm afraid, can't wait 50k for hand holding or I'll lose my mind.

For characters, I generally lean towards OCs as I prefer AU plots, but I am very much open to rping as the idols themselves (idol AU), or simply keeping their real names in an AU setting.

ACTIVITY & COMMUNICATION

My timezone is GMT+8 and I work normal office hours, but I am usually online at work too, so I'm decently active throughout the week. Expect replies within 2/3 days, within the day or a few hours if I'm free and inspired. Always love rapid fire replies when we catch each other online at the same time.

Please let me know if you'll be busy and need time away, so I know you're not ghosting me. You're more than welcome to tell me if you're no longer inspired by our plot, we can figure something new out.

Please don't just block and disappear. I am not a mind reader. We are adults, and I hope we act accordingly. I'm not perfect always, but I value communication to ensure we're both comfortable. I find the act of blocking someone without conveying your issues first to be extremely inconsiderate and immature behavior. Do not waste my time if you do things like this.

FINAL NOTES

I hope this is enough information to pique your interest! I consider myself to be a friendly and chill person, and I hope you'll give me a shot! I looove getting invested in our plot, our characters, make pinboards and playlists for them, finding quotes online and going "OMG IT'S THEEEEEM" and spitballing headcanons about them. I'm also pretty patient about slow activity.

You can find me on discord as outerwilds. (with the dot), or you can leave a like, leave a comment, dm me, whatever suits you! :)

[lemon-russ]

Today's parade of fleas comes with a complementary/ optional musical accompaniment

BABY SAID - Måneskin

Lots of this was written at 3am on my phone and deep in my Unwell (tm) brain land. I love putting them in situations.

Part 5/ ???

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 7.5 :: 8

Cato Sicarius x F!Reader

(Cato POV 3rd person this time though)

CW: Talks about sex, Cato being a bully (verbally)

Summary: Cato does not want to talk about the events occurring from the discovery of the new emotion of horny

word count: 2,096

He couldn't even begin to explain to himself why he just did that. He sits on the floor of the cave, staring ahead with a blank, tense look, thinking about how sometimes, he does things, and sometimes, they have consequences. Like this awkward, confused silence.

The ambassador sits a few feet away, sharing a similar look. She was flushed still, hair a mess, dress barely holding on after the rock wall of the cave shredded the back of it. By the throne she looked good like this- No, stop that, doesn't he learn? This whole thing was insane and now he's going to have to live with it, and yet he's still sitting here daydreaming of how she'd look on her back and fully naked next time.

But there isn't going to be a next time, because that was a moment of insanity. They had been arguing, why did he kiss her? Okay, he knows why, but he doesn't want to actually think about that, because it's a stupid reason. She'd been insisting he didn't care about her- which is correct- but for some reason some sort of madness overcame him and he wanted her to think he did care. Okay, maybe he cared like, a little. Not anything weird, it's not sentimental to not actively wish death on someone. He'd go so far as to say it wasn't even overly familiar to wish someone does not die.

But that feels like a long leap between I'd be displeased if you perished and pinning her to a wall and fucking her mindless. Which he will admit, he did do. And he was excellent at it, of course. Cato Sicarius is the greatest at all feats of combat, and what is sex but really sticky awkward combat? He smirks to himself a bit. Another grand mastery to mark down, even if it was one he might prefer to keep to himself. But, unfortunately, unlike regular combat, your fighting partner here stays very much alive- hopefully- and can do things like ask you what was that about and what the actual fuck was that about Cato, no, seriously, what was that. He grimaces and takes a deep breath, letting it out tiredly. Not physically tired of course, he was superior in all things, including this, and was not so weak as to tire so fast- not that that matters, because, again, it won't happen again. But if it did, it could happen right now. Theoretically. Space marine stamina was second to none.

She glances over at him, expression mirroring his internal conflicts. “So….” She says softly, a small frown tugging the corners of her mouth. He clears his throat. “So.” He returns, frowning back. Emperor this was awkward. Truly a fitting punishment, to be forced to endure such banal things like talking about feelings after sex. He shudders to himself.

She frowns a bit deeper. “Are we going toooo…. Talk about that or….” She asks in a nervous voice.

Ah, excellent, she was giving him a choice. He sighs in relief, smiling genuinely for the first time in what feels like a week. “No, thank you.” He says politely, standing and brushing off his pants. What a weight off his mind, maybe he could do this sex thing more often-

“Cato.” She says, displeased. He frowns. He didn't know it was a trick question, but apparently he'd gotten it wrong. He groans. “Can't we just, pretend it didn't happen?” He pleads with an exasperated look. “What happens on dirt rock planet stays on dirt rock planet or something?” He grumbles, checking outside for the armies. Night had fallen, but he didn't see anything new at least.

“You seriously aren't going to explain what that was about?” She says, growing more frustrated. His eye twitches. This, this is why astartes are not supposed to take women to their beds. They can't move on from things and need to talk about unimportant drivel like motivations and futures and labels. Uhg. He rolls his eyes, giving her an annoyed look. “What's there to say? Your face when you got angry was attractive and I fell to baser reactions after a long and stressful day of saving you from perils.” He said dryly, crossing his arms and leaning against the cave wall, facing out and keeping watch.

She groans, “That's your excuse? You just, decided today was the day to grow a heart and feel human needs and you take it out on me?” She says tiredly.

He huffs out his nose, frowning over his shoulder at her. “I have two hearts, actually. Maybe you should read up more on the superior anatomy of an astartes and spend less time droning on about weather with nobles.” He frowns back out at the landscape. Was that a light…?

She growls in frustration. “Unbelievable. No, actually, very believable. It's my fault, really, for fucking you and thinking maybe you were having some sort of emotional breakthrough-” he hushes her, making her fluster in anger, but his eyes are trained on the light outside, and she catches the hint and just huffs out her nose a little. She quietly scootches over to see what he's looking at. Daft woman, a mortal's eyes can't see that far in the dark.

“I don't see anything…” she murmurs. No shit. Maybe he shook the last cobwebs of intelligence from her skull when he slammed her against that wall. He just hushes her again, making her pout. He glances at her annoyed little face and briefly considers repeating his misstep- no, focus Cato, there's enemies around. And he's pretty sure she can't take being fucked any dumber before she loses her ability to form speech. He smirks to himself at his little internal diss as he scans the landscape again.

He sees a search party now, combing the area back and forth in lines. Fuck. That is very, very bad for them. “Time to go” he says quietly, scooping her up onto his shoulder, making her squeak as air was knocked out of her a little. He frowns a little and glances at her kicking and annoyed little form. Well, maybe there was a few minutes before that party found them- no, no she cries like a banshee when she comes, they'd find them in minutes.

He sighs, moving her onto his shoulder upright. “hold onto my armor” he instructs, standing with her clinging to the neck of his armor, sitting on his power pack like he's giving her a piggy back ride. He puts his helmet on, “We're going to be running and calling for a pickup.” he says, ducking out of the cave and into the cold desert night. She shivers and he grimaces. Right, she barely has clothes on. Not that he cares if she's cold, but, it’s probably not great for their cover if her teeth chatter. He sighs and reluctantly tugs his cape off its holds on his back. “Here. Your ridiculous outfit choice once again forces me to do everything for you, wrap yourself in this.” He grumbles. She blinks at him, expression something he couldn't read, and takes the cape, using it like a blanket and tying it around herself. She smiles a little at him and he grimaces. “Stop that.” He demands. “Don't look at me like that. It freaks me out.”

She raises her brow and sighs. “Lets just get home.” She says, rubbing the bridge of her nose, mumbling something about mixed messages. That's stupid. His messages were very clear. He never mixes them. He huffs and starts heading away from the search party into open dark desert.

He moves at a light jog, and after a few minutes, she makes a sharp noise, making him stop and look up at her. Shes frowning, “ah- sorry, don't mind me, I'm just sore from… well… the power pack is a little hard to sit on right now.” She mumbles, glancing away awkwardly.

He sighs. “squishy, breakable mortal.” He says tiredly, pulling her off his back with a squeak. “Aren't you meant to push children out of there? How could I so damage you by doing what nature intended for it.” He grumbles as he moves to cradle her bridal style instead.

She's surprised a moment as he holds her, then frowns a bit. “I don't think astartes count as things nature intended to happen to it…” she grumbles, pink staining her cheeks as she glances away. He chuckles to himself as he starts jogging again, “Ah yes, nature could not predict the perfection of the space marine. Maybe we should create genetic enhancements for women, allowing them to not break the moment they are touched in any capacity.” He speculates to himself. “The basics, really, hardened bones, healing, sturdier flesh, some spare organs. Maybe increased pelvic capacity so an astartes lover doesn't rend you more useless than usual.” He says, smirking down at her behind his helmet. “Then I wouldn't have to work so hard this whole trip to just keep bullets out of you. It has been a huge trouble for me, you know.” He says with slight annoyance.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously still doing this? You admitted to me already that you care about me and didn't like seeing me hurt.” She says with a tired scowl.

He nods, “Yes, which is also deeply disturbing. Now I have to keep you free of holes and breaks, because if I don't-” he stuttered in his gait, taking a small breath. He was thankful for the helmet, it was hard to school his expression right now, and it hid the terrified grimace that assaulted his face muscles at the thought of her becoming injured. He let out a tense sigh. “Well, it is quite annoying that for some reason I will be the one to suffer if great harm comes to you.” He grumbles a bit.

She blinks up at him- ah, there's that stupid puzzled look again. It'd be cute almost if it wasn't so agitating that she could apparently not comprehend simple thoughts at random. He sighed. “What is that face for? Shall I say it slower with smaller words?” He asks dryly.

She frowns and knits her brow, but was still looking at him like he'd grown another head like a chaos spawn. “You are possibly the most stubborn or most dense man I've ever met, and I can't decide which it is. Maybe both.” She says, shaking her head. The action makes some of her hair fluff around her face and he scolds himself when he thinks it's cute. “What in the Emperor's name are you on about now, you senseless creature?” He asks in exasperation.

She rolls her eyes. “I don't think I have the time or crayons to explain the entirety of the concept of interpersonal relationships and emotions to you right now, Cato.” She says tiredly, laying her head against his chest plate. He smiles at her cuddling to him- wait stop that she insulted you, do not smile- he forces a frown. “You do not need to explain these things to me. I know them well.” He huffs indignantly. “I am Cato Sicarius, master of many things, including psychology.” He says, pouting under his helmet. He already solved psychology this morning.

She chuckles for some warp damned reason, actually laughing at emperor knows what. He frowns down at her as she giggles herself into a fit. “I fear your mind may have sustained one too many hits, knocking what's left of your brain against the inside of your ceramite skull.” He says with a small scowl. “You seem to be losing more and more of your senses every passing moment. Perhaps it is good I did not actually render you unconscious to make you easier to handle. You probably wouldn't be able to speak again.” He says with an annoyed tone as he picks up the pace and voxes an SOS signal with their location up to the flagship.

She laughs more, snorting a little and shaking in his arms. It makes him crack a smile himself against his will. “You are mad, Woman.” He grumbles, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. That's what it all comes down to, he decides. Women are simply all completely mad. Boom, he solved women, the eternal enigma. He smiles to himself. He was on a roll today, but that's expected. He's Cato Sicarius, there is no mystery he cannot unravel.

[ki56]

Photographer Sonic / Rock Star Shadow Fanfic Chapter 1 - Sneak Peek 2

Continuing Chapter 1 (rough draft): See Sneak Peek 1 before reading this.

*Sonic POV 3rd Person*

Though, Sonic hoped one day his photography could turn into a full time career for him, not just something extra he did on evenings and weekends. Not only would he prefer to do photography because it’s his passion, but it’d also be nice to have time for other things and have a life. Granted, he does meet with his friends every couple months, but that’s usually about it.

“I don’t even have time for dating.”

This annoyed grumble was whispered beneath his breath, and good thing too as the last thing he needed was one of the children below to hear him complaining about his love life, or lack thereof in this case.

“Kids can be so cruel in moments of weakness…”

And while he had a pretty good ego, even he couldn’t handle insults from children regarding his inability to find a date.

A vibrate was then felt in his pants pocket, and he fished out his cell to see a text.

Tails: Are still coming to the get together tonight?

Speaking of meeting his friends.

Sonic: …Is Amy going to be there?

Tails: I don’t think so. She said something about work stuff a couple days ago.

Tails: I thought you two were past this.

A sigh left him at that comment. Amy had liked him since they were kids, and while Sonic hadn’t ever really felt that way about her, he ended up trying to date her in their first year of college.

That was a disaster as when they kissed after a week of dating, he felt like he was kissing his sister, and had stupidly said as much before getting sucker punched in the face.

Honestly, if getting one punch meant she’d quit pursuing him, he’d take it. But for a while after that, the pink hedgehog using her innocent smiles and sweet words with hidden insults knew how to make things awkward for him whenever the two were in the same vicinity.

Because of this, Sonic quit attending their friend’s gatherings for a period of time. The last couple times he saw her though seemed much better, as now they just don’t converse much with each other, but a wave of unease still settled in from each get-together despite this.

Sonic: Yeah, I’ll be there. What time?

Tails: 5:30 at Rouge’s club.

Tails: Let me know if you need a ride and I’ll come get you.

Sonic: Nah, I should be good. But if that changes, you’ll be the first to know!

Tails: Well, your car is a piece of junk so I wouldn’t be surprised.

Sonic: Don’t talk blasphemy about my baby!

Tails: I swear you’re worse about your car than I am with my airplane, and I built that!

Sonic chuckled as he checked the time to see he still had a couple hours before this shindig.

“Should probably head out so I have enough time to get home and cleaned up,” Sonic thought to himself as he placed his camera strap around his neck before hopping down a few branches until landing on the grass below. “It takes forever to get across Metropolis. I hope this won’t be a pain in the ass.”

And at that, the blue blur began to make his way towards one of the park exits where his mini blue two door car was so he could head to his place and start preparing for the night's events.

———————

Here’s a 2nd sneak peek continuing where I left off from the 1st. The paragraphs in italics are from the first part to transition to this one.

At this rate, I’ll end up posting the whole chapter here before I ever get it on AO3, lol. Anyway, I hope you guys like it :3

[bamber344]

Welcome To The Heroes' Union

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Completely dropping the pretense of having dedicated POV chapters. I like fucking around with the POV too much for that :)

Anyway, welcome to the Heroes Union arc! This chapter kicked my ass for unknown reasons, and i really hope this trend doesn't continue! enjoy!

CWs: Andreas being himself, discussions of pre-canon character death, allusions to Steve getting his shit kicked in (rip), uhhhh I think that's it. pretty tame this time around.

Welcome To The Heroes’ Union

“Hey, Seven. Good morning. It’s good to have you here.”

The man in front of me held out his hand in greeting. I’d seen people do this; I knew what to do. I’d just… never had to do it myself before. Today was full of new experiences.

“Uhm, hi,” I replied, shaking his hand.

We were in a small office somewhere inside the Heroes’ Union building. Father had set everything up, so all I had to do was walk into the building at the right time, follow the directions I’d been given, and walk into this room. Apparently, after that, I’d be a member of the Heroes’ Union. It seemed a lot easier than I’d thought it’d be.

Yes, against all odds, Father had agreed to let me join the Union. As usual, his agreement wasn’t without its many terms and conditions, though…

“I’m Ashley Min, one of the co-leaders of the Union. If you can take a seat, we’re just gonna do a little entrance interview so I can get some of your info,” the man, Ashley, said with a warm smile.

“O-okay,” I replied, sitting on the chair across from him. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little nervous for this. Was there gonna be a test? What if I failed? Father actually wanted me to join the Union, so it wouldn’t just be Madeline and myself I was disappointing if I messed this up. There were real consequences.

Ashley picked up a little notepad and a pencil. “First off, can I get your full name?”

“Jordyn de Vygon.”

“De Vygon, huh?” he muttered. “You’re Andreas’ daughter, right? Gonna be honest, I didn’t even know he had one until recently.”

…That was odd. Wasn’t I still a superhero before the accident that cost me my memories? Surely people would’ve known who I was back then, right?

This was definitely one of those things Maggie would want me to question. It was also one of those things Father would want me to just not think about. For now, it was best to just play it safe and ignore it. 

“Uh, yep! That’s me.”

Ashley grinned. “You know, that means we’re related. In a ‘3rd cousins’ sort of way, anyway. My great-grandpa was your great-grandpa’s brother.”

I didn't know what a ‘grandpa’ was, or what made it so great, so I just nodded along. “Okay.”

Ashley paused for a second, then muttered something under his breath, looking back down at the pad. “Right… Could I get your date of birth?”

Oh boy. Another thing I didn’t know about. “Uh, sorry, what is that?”

Ashley blinked, looking back up at me. “Your date of birth. The day you were born. …Your birthday?”

Maybe honesty was the best policy in this situation. “I, um… It would probably be good for you to know this, but… I have some memory issues. I was in an accident a little while ago and just… lost everything from before. There’s a lot I’m still… catching up on.”

Ashley sighed, a distinct look of sadness in his eyes. Or was that… pity? “I’m sorry to hear that, Jordyn. I take it your date of birth is one of those things you’re still catching up on?”

I nodded sheepishly. “Y-yeah.”

Ashley nodded back. “I’ll just ask Andreas, then. I’ll do the same in regards to your bank details for your salary.”

All I could do was stare back blankly. “Uh, sure.”

“Well, since we don’t have to worry about any of that, I suppose the only thing left is your preferred pronouns.”

“Uh…”

Ashley sucked in a breath. “You don’t know about those either. Makes sense. Basically, it’s just how you like to be referred to. People call me ‘he’ and ‘him,’ y’know? It’s optional, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Most people will just assume in that case.”

“...You can pick those?”

Ashley shrugged. “Sure, why not? They’re just words.”

That… made a lot of sense. “Uhm… just the girl ones, I guess?”

Ashley chuckled, copying it down. “Sure. Well, that should be about it. Once I get your other details from Andreas, I’ll be able to register you as an official member of the Tombguard Heroes’ Union! Until then, we’ll just pretend like everything’s already sorted. We’ve got our monthly team meeting coming up, so you can sit in on that and we’ll get you up to speed.”

I nodded. “Alright. When will that be?”

“This afternoon. I know you have police things to do, so I won’t keep you any longer. Just meet me in the lobby at 2:30 and I’ll show you to the conference room.”

“Yes sir,” I replied, standing up. 

Ashley looked a little shocked. “O-oh, uh, we don’t do that here. Just Ashley’s fine.”

What kind of superior didn’t want to be referred to with respect? I could only imagine what Father would do to me if I called him by his first name. “Uh… right. Sorry.”

He smiled. “It’s alright. See you later?”

“Yeah.”

With that, I turned and left the room, with more than a little anxiety roiling around in my gut. Boy, this place was weird. 

—

Two days before…

“I have a job for you, Jordyn.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Sir?”

“The way the Union is being run currently, it’s nothing more than a leech on city resources. Eventually, it’s going to reach a point of singularity and collapse, and then we won’t have access to heroes when we truly, actually need them; for monster attacks. What it needs is an overhaul. New management, as it were. And I believe I am the perfect man for the job.”

With leadership skills like his, I couldn’t see why not. He continued.

“That’s where you’ll come in, Jordyn. I need someone on the inside to help facilitate my takeover. They’ve invited you to join, so no one will raise any eyebrows if you suddenly take a break from your police duties for this. I need you to gain their utmost trust. Worm your way into their hearts until they allow you to see them at their most vulnerable. Then, we strike.”

The thought of doing that to Vivienne and Madeline rankled, but not as much as the daunting prospect of actually having to undertake such a task. I wouldn’t even know where to start. “Uh, F-father, I… I’m not sure I can do that.”

He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there to guide you along every step of the way.”

—

And so, I found myself returning to the Union HQ at 2:30, ready to attend my first meeting there. Ashley met me in the lobby just as he’d promised, and led me through the building towards the conference room.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Nervous?”

“A bit,” I replied. “How many other heroes are there?”

“Well, in total we have about 15 on our roster, but most of them aren’t very active in the Union outside of the big emergencies, so you probably won’t run into them a lot. If you spend time around the place, you’ll probably mostly be seeing Madeline and myself. Vivienne pops by pretty often, too. You’ve met Brianna, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well, she lives here in our dorms, so you’ll probably see her a lot, too.”

The thought brightened me up a bit. I hadn’t seen her since the shooting, where she held my hand and whispered comfort in my ear as Vivienne did her best to patch me up. It would be nice to talk again. Something in my gut tingled at the thought.

It wasn’t much farther until we reached the conference room. Ashley opened the door for me and we both stepped in.

The space was huge, dominated mostly by a large table at which sat over a dozen people, most of whom I didn’t recognise. Madeline sat near the head, with Vivienne next her, and Brianna a little further down. On the right-side wall from the entrance was a huge TV screen, displaying what looked like a map of the city. I clenched my fists, trying to keep a damper on my nerves.

Ashley patted me on the back. “Just take a seat wherever, okay?”

I nodded. “Right.”

He made his way to the head of the table as I searched for an open spot. Thankfully, there was one right next to Brianna, so I sat down there. Vivienne smiled and waved at me, mouthing something I couldn’t quite make out.

Screams. The sound of bones cracking under my boot. Blood being spat out through split lips.

I bit my tongue, trying not to vomit, and averted my eyes. I could just make out Vivienne pouting at my lack of reaction out of the corner of my vision, and the guilt only worsened. But… how the hell was I supposed to face her after what I did to her uncle?

Brianna leaned over to me. “That’s Seven, right?” she whispered.

Oh yeah, Brianna was blind, wasn’t she? I was thankful to Mr. Sadler for explaining to me what that meant after our first encounter, otherwise I might have been confused at her question.

“Yeah,” I replied.

She grinned wide. “Hey! It’s been a little while, huh? How’ve you been? Heal up from that bullet alright?”

In truth, my chest still hurt sometimes when I exerted myself, but it was nothing I wasn’t already used to from my back. “Yes, I’m all better.”

“That’s good to hear! So, I heard we were getting a new member. That’s you, I take it?”

“Uh, it’s not solidified yet, but… yeah, that’s me.”

“Awesome. It’ll be good to have you around.”

Would it really? I didn’t realise I was so sought after. The thought made a warm, giddy feeling rise up in my gut, though it was dampened by the memory of what I was here to do.

Ashley finished setting up and cleared his throat. “Thanks everyone for coming. It’s good to see you all again.”

Everyone at the table mumbled out a return to his greeting. I noticed most of them were just in casual-wear, no hero costumes in sight. As if I needed another reason to stick out…

“So, it’s been a pretty uneventful month overall, which I think we should be grateful for in this city. We had that one incident with the Godling changing that fire hydrant, but Rishta sorted that out before we could even get any reports. Good work, you’ll be seeing a bonus on your pay.” Ashley smiled at this ‘Rishta’ person, before turning back to the table at large, a more serious expression on his face. “More importantly, that means that the Godling is likely charging up Its energy for something big. I need everybody to be at the ready for this next month, at least until we get another attack. The last thing we want is for a repeat of five years ago to happen, and none of us are ready for it.”

What happened five years ago? The urge to ask was strong, but I held my tongue. I really didn’t want to draw any more attention to myself than necessary. From the way that Madeline and Vivienne both looked down when he mentioned it, it must’ve been something bad.

“On a lighter note,” Ashley continued, “I’m sure you’ve all noticed by now, but today we’re welcoming a new hero into our ranks.”

Oh boy.

He indicated over to me and I did my best to resist the urge to sink into my seat. “You probably know Jordyn here best for her work with our city’s police force, but from today onwards, she’ll also be contributing her considerable skill towards the protection of our city from more… monstrous threats. In regards to the elephant in the room, let's just get this out of the way. I know not everyone here is the biggest fan of the TPD, but let’s keep things civil. Jordyn isn’t here as a cop, she’s here as a hero, and more importantly, a friend. I expect you all to treat her the same as you would treat anyone else.”

Some people smiled and mumbled a greeting at me, while others ignored me entirely. This was it, I needed to start making an impression. I needed them to trust me.

I gave a small wave to the room. “Uh, hi everyone. I-it’s good to meet you all. I… I’m looking forward to working togethe- AUH!”

Right in the middle of my sentence, some pink, four-legged… thing hopped up into my lap and scared the life out of me. It looked up at me with its slitted-pupil eyes and weird wrinkly face and licked its chops, revealing sharp fangs.

“Mrrow.”

“Wh… what is that?” I whispered, trying to lean away from it. It just jumped up, planting its front feet against my chest plate and sniffing at the seams of my armour.

Laughter bounced around the room at the display, much to my embarrassment. No one else seemed to be surprised by the creature, so I supposed it was nothing to be afraid of. Still… A little warning would’ve been nice.

“Wow,” Ashley said, chuckling. “I haven’t seen Muffin be that friendly with someone in a long time.”

“M-Muffin?” I asked.

He nodded to the thing still trying to sniff its way under my armour, trilling and chirping all the while. “The cat. His name’s Muffin.”

So that’s what this thing was. I’d heard of cats before, of course, but I’d always thought they’d be… fluffier, based on the descriptions I’d been given. Muffin barely had a single strand of hair on him. 

I looked back up. Vivienne was smiling at me, but Madeline appeared absolutely livid. She stood up hard enough that her chair tipped over, and stormed out of the room.

Silence reigned over the space. Ashley cleared his throat. “Well. Uh, unless anyone has anything they’d like to say, I believe that’s all for this month.” He paused for a moment, but continued when no one else spoke up. “Alright, then. Meeting adjourned.” 

With that announcement, most of the people at the table got up and started heading for the entrance. I stayed in my seat, unsure of what to do, especially with the cat still sitting on me.

“What happened?” Brianna asked in a whisper.

“Madeline looked angry, then she got up and left,” I replied.

Brianna audibly winced. “Oh, I think I know why.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Why?”

“It’s about Muffin,” Vivienne said, approaching from behind Brianna. She reached down and plucked him off my lap, to which he immediately responded by thrashing and yowling until she put him down again. Once free, he slinked off under the table.

It was still hard to look at Vivienne without feeling sick to my stomach, but I did my best. “Wh-what about him?”

She sighed. “He was originally adopted and brought into the Union by Madeline’s wife, Rosalyn. We all look after him, but Rosie was the only person that Muffin ever showed much affection to. He’s warmed up a bit to Maddie, but it’s still nothing compared to the love he showed for Rosalyn. She was probably offended that he suddenly jumped up on you like that out of nowhere. Seriously, he’s never done that before to anyone but Rosie.”

Rosalyn. That name sounded familiar in a way I couldn’t quite place. It rang through my ears, all the way through my body, and into my bones. It was familiar, in a homey, comforting sort of way.

“I don’t think I’ve met her,” I said.

Vivienne squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “Yeah, she, uh… She passed away five years ago in a monster attack.”

I bit my lip. “Is that common?”

She shook her head. “No. That attack was just… a mess.” She pulled up a seat next to Brianna and sat down. “It was the worst attack we’d ever seen. An entire city block was transformed into raging flesh in an instant. The death toll was immense. The entire Union fought for literally the whole day, trying to get people out and minimise the damage. I was there too, teleporting around, taking people to hospital, helping the front-liners stay out of harm’s way, delivering supplies… I couldn’t tell you how many times I had to stop to throw up from the disorientation. It was the same for all of us. We were exhausted and beaten. I… I was only 19, for fuck’s sake.”

Her face was sunken and drawn in a way I’d never seen before. She continued. “I saw the moment it happened, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Rosie was fighting her heart out, blasting the monster with fire so hot she was burning her hands. And then she just… stumbled. I guess the exhaustion must have caught up to her. The monster took its chance. A tentacle rose up behind her and… stabbed straight through her chest. She was dead before she even hit the ground. Maybe… maybe if I hadn’t been so out of it myself, I could’ve saved her. But it just happened so damn fast. One second she was standing there just fine, and the next, she was gone. She was the only Union hero who didn’t make it.”

I didn’t know how to respond, but Vivienne’s words instilled a dread in my heart that I couldn’t put to words. The only time I remembered feeling similar was when I saw a monster for the first time myself, on that first day out of the facility.

“I was lucky enough to not have to fight,” Brianna said. “But I was part of the rescue efforts, searching through the rubble for any survivors once the monster finally died. I couldn’t see the carnage, but I still remember the stink of death permeating the entire city, and the sounds of trapped people screaming for help. It was a day none of us will ever forget.”

“Wow, I… I had no idea…” I muttered.

Brianna chuckled, though there was a sourness to it. “Not sure how. I thought everyone in Tombguard knew. Doubly so for anyone working as a hero.”

“I… I can��t remember anything past about a year or so ago. I had an accident, apparently, and everything before that’s just gone.” 

The teasing grin dropped from Brianna’s face. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “It’s just the way things are.”

There was a short silence, before Vivienne clapped her hands. “Well, would you like me to show you around, Jordyn? We’ve got a pretty nice setup here.”

As beneficial as that would probably be for me, I just couldn’t be alone with her right now. Not after everything I did. “N-no thanks. I should get back to patrolling, anyway. The, uh… the police probably need me.”

Vivienne frowned. “Okay… if you say so.”

With that, I turned and left, practically running out onto the street and ruminating on everything I’d learned. 

That big monster attack… Hadn’t Father said that I was injured in a monster attack? Could it have been that one? But, clearly no one else knew who I was, and they were all there that day. Besides, that was five years ago. There was no way I was asleep for all that time. Maybe I was just overthinking things…

Still. Rosalyn. I just couldn’t get that name out of my head.

—

Madeline loudly grunted as her fists made contact with the punching bag in the Union gym over and over. After all the effort she put into getting that cat to like her, everything she did for it, it just jumps up on Jordyn the first chance it gets? What the hell. How the fuck was that fair?!

“Maddie? Hey, are you alright? You ran off.”

She stopped, grabbing the bag and leaning her head on it as she caught her breath. Her fists stung from the force she was hitting the leather with, and her chest hurt from how winded she’d become without even realising. Boy, she really needed to get back into shape.

Madeline turned, finding Ashley looking at her with concern. She sighed. “No, I’m not okay.”

“This is about Muffin, isn’t it.”

It was a little embarrassing when he said it out loud like that, but whatever, sue her. That cat was one of the only things she had left of Rosie. Could anyone blame her for feeling jealous?

“Yes, it’s about Muffin,” she grunted, walking over to the bench and slumping down. “It just doesn’t make any damn sense that he would go to her like that!”

Ashley sat down next to her. “I agree with you. It doesn’t make sense. But, it happened, and you have to accept that. Don’t hold it against her.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and was surprised to find that underneath the anger, she was legitimately on the verge of tears.

“It… it’s just not fair.”

He put an arm around her shoulders. “I know. It really isn’t.”

She made the most of his comfort, leaning against him and finally letting herself cry. She so desperately wanted to be mad at Jordyn for it – and a large part of her was mad – but the sensible part of her brain fought back against the idea. It wasn’t Jordyn’s fault Muffin liked her, even though it was a complete mystery as to how. Who knew, maybe she just stuffed raw fish into her armour and Muffin was attracted by the smell?

“Hey, guys. Everything okay?”

Madeline looked up to find Viv. She wiped her eyes, trying to get a hold of herself. 

“Everything sucks.”

Viv huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. Just had to explain to Jordyn what happened five years ago.” Her eyes glazed over a bit. “Fun memories.”

Madeline groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “Why did we sign up for this again?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do, or some other nonsense like that,” Ashley replied. He sighed. “It’s certainly gonna be an undertaking. Poor girl doesn’t even know her own birthdate, if such a thing even applies, considering she was pulled out of a tube.”

“I think that says more about de Vygon’s inability to provide her with a cover story than anything else, honestly,” Maddie said.

He snorted. “Yeah. I’m not going to discount the man’s intelligence, but that was a pretty big oversight on his part. And it’s a pretty big headache for me. Now I’ve got to organise a call with him so I can get all of her ‘details.���” He made air-quotes in time with the last word.

Viv clapped her hands. “Don’t worry, guys. We’ll get through this! It’s gonna be hard at first, sure, but as Jordyn gets more used to being in the Union, things are gonna get easier. She’ll be easier to talk to, and easier to convince that de Vygon’s hurting her. And once she’s finally safe and we can get her official testimony, that’s when we bring de Vygon and his whole group down! We’ve got this!”

As much as Madeline was loath to admit it, Viv’s optimism was infectious. She wasn’t going to admit it out loud, though. “If you say so, Viv. I’ll have to take your word for it.”

—

“With all due respect, sir… Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Andreas took a sip of his beer as he watched G-7 prowl the streets of Tombguard through her visor camera. “Trust me, George. I’ve calculated the risks.”

George hummed with uncertainty. “Still, you can’t blame me for worrying. Wanting to make it seem like everything is normal to the public is one thing, but actively letting Seven join the Union seems like a step too far. When you want your dog to be obedient, you don’t go letting it play with the pack of strays. Frankly, sir… I just don’t see the point.”

“It’s all part of the plan, George. We need her to join the Union if we ever want to make a difference in this city.”

“...I thought the idea was just to revitalise the police?”

Andreas sighed. He couldn’t fault George for his ignorance. It was, however, slightly annoying. “What’s the point of just revitalising the police if we don’t fix the other underlying issues plaguing our great city? The Union has been leeching off of taxpayer money for as long as I’ve been alive, yet they provide no value 99% of the time.”

“But… Isn’t it basically just insurance against monster attacks? If insurance companies can take our money on the off chance something bad happens, why can’t the Union? Hell, we don’t even have to consciously pay for it, it just comes out of our taxes.”

…Well, George was allowed to think what he wanted. He was just a peon, after all, only good for his science know-how. And that was why scientists never made it far in politics. He should really stick to his petri dishes.

Andreas cleared his throat. “Regardless of your thoughts on the matter, that was always the plan. Why do you think I specifically trained the subjects to be heroes, and not just police officers?”

“Uh… so that you’d have a good excuse to hide their faces, so it wasn’t immediately obvious they were all-”

“So that they could join the Union, obviously!”

George paused, blinking rapidly for a moment. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well. If that’s your plan, then who am I to stop you? But still, how can you be sure Seven’s interactions with the Union heroes won’t… sully her loyalty? Once she realises that it isn’t normal to be beaten for a minor infraction, don’t you think she’s going to decide that she’s happier there? We’ve had the programming to keep her in line so far, but it can only do so much when faced with outside influence. Aren’t you worried she’ll go down the same route as Five did?”

“As I’ve said, I’ve calculated the risks. G-7 always needed to join the Union for my plan to work. Yes, she may come into contact with people who may begin to pull her away from my control, but that is a risk I must accept if I want my plan to succeed. Hell, it might even help us. If G-7 begins to trust the Union heroes, they will trust her in turn. Then, all it’ll take is one last nudge.” 

He smiled as visions of the future washed over him. None of this will matter then. No more posturing and ass-kissing to higher-ranking politicians for funding. No more being part of the lesser family. There would be no one above him anymore.

“Uhh… Sorry, but I’m still a little lost-”

“Go home, Sadler,” Andreas interrupted. “Your shift ended five minutes ago.”

George sighed, getting up. “Yes, sir.”

The mumbling twig of a man shuffled his way out of the surveillance room, leaving Andreas alone to drink his beer and watch his creation do his bidding. Jordyn would only be useful for so much longer. He would say he was sad to know the time of her disposal was drawing nearer, but… well, that would be a lie. The weak little shit was only good for wasting his time and failing to follow his orders. Though, he could admit that he would miss having a punching bag to take things out on at the end of a long day.

Eh, G-7 wasn’t even uniquely good for that. Nothing was stopping him from waking up another subject whenever he needed to. That was the lovely thing about Jordyn and her sisters. They were so perfectly disposable.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @thataquaticwhumper

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

Andreas is such a bastard lol

let me know what you guys thought! I wasn't sure how i was feeling for a lot of this one, so any feedback is appreciated!

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 1

Synopsis: The Doctor notices a student. She notices him.

a/n: thank u to the moots for sticking with me. Yall are the best. This is going to be a series. Somewhat of a dark!doctor ish fic maybe. I haven't planned this far. I have ideas. Will switch between a 3rd party but doctor centric POV and a 2nd party student centric POV.

The sun drew itself in on the cold day, light filtering through large windows in the lecture hall. It caught and reflected the motes of light swirling around. First day of the Spring term. Lots of new students trickled in and found their respective seats. Of course, the syllabus was now online and such. But the Doctor still preferred to give a paper one. He felt it helped students focus if they had it real and tangible…unable to forget.

Just like he forgot so much. A lingering pain….

He started up his usual dazzling spiel. Enough to keep them from dropping out, but not enough to rile them to madness. He learned that lesson early on in this particular charade he was distracting himself with. All he had to really do was keep Missy in the Vault and attempt to rehabilitate her. Humans were such a delicate group to keep balanced. Too much stimulation and they would self destruct. Not enough? The same but in a reverse spiral.

Or just fall asleep.

He preferred it if a few actually did fall asleep.

Allowed him to build a reputation as a teacher. Keep the act up.

He didn’t notice the young woman intently staring, writing down the key phrases from his opening statements. He was enraptured in the normal routine he has become familiar with.

The hour came to a close, and he did a bow. He was to visit Missy again some time soon. Just a cursory check. See if she’d calmed down from her last temper tantrum, where she demanded a saxophone and stated that Billy Clinton was also a war criminal, but made some sweet jazz.

He could hardly agree. She already was a mediocre piano player. And the drum set she demanded earlier lay in tatters in her cupboard.

Being her keeper and therapist was rotten work, but it warmed him. Gave him a gram of hope that she may get better and he may have his friend back once more.

Though, he knew in both is hearts, hope could be a fragile thing for a man to hold onto.

But, especially in this body, he believed in redemption and change. They both had forever to change. They had forever.

A few weeks had passed, and he noticed that keen eyes were burning the back of his neck as he scrawled on the chalkboard. It felt different than the usual glazed-over focus of people trying to write or type out his valid points. It was hot and felt more personal. Less trying to pass a class.

He paused his sentence and raked his eyes over. It was a student with large gold hoops and a few tangled gold necklaces. The Doctor recognized two or three of the symbols used on some of them from his travels through Earth’s history. She was chewing hard on her pen. He could see flecks of her tinted chap stick clinging onto the sides of it. Her eyes were squinted slightly and a slight patch of blush rested on her checks. He couldn’t tell if it was a make up look or some feverish feature of her human body. Perhaps she was in the first phases of getting sick!

He went back to his lecture. Some misfocused student was the least of his concern.

But he still felt her eyes bore into him. Intent on something. He trudged on.

He came to a close, reminded everyone of their upcoming projects and let the day start to rest. The Doctor announced that his office hours were changing to represent the spring coming soon and to “Allow you all to feel the sun on your faces, you don’t know how long you’ll have. Humans usually only live once!”

He scanned the audience and saw her shoving her notebook and that well-gnawed on pen into her bag. Big purse with a rhinestone buckle. Resembled something that Rose or Jackie would have had, he mused.

She slung that and a tote bag that seemed overstuffed and ripe for the breaking over her shoulder. She audibly groaned under the weight. He pitied her. The stressed look she had on her face was oddly enchanting in the light just starting to sink.

He knew she was struggling in the class. She did good work, yes. When he opened up questions and debate, she usually had such pointed takes that verged on mind-racing. Sometimes others would bristle against what she said on the more provocative topics he offered up. Essays and tests? Not so much. She floundered.

She had accommodations for some diagnosis or whatever. He could tell her mind was making connections in a far more tangential way than the other’s either couldn’t or wouldn’t make. And for that he did like her. Enjoyed what she brought to the table. Although, even his brains had difficulty making some of the leaps her brain did.

But why was she staring at him like that today? It was almost reverent. Very off putting.

She came forward to his desk and clicked open her notes app .

“Erm…Professor.” She cleared her throat and started up. “Uh, I was wondering if I could see you sooner rather than later. For office hours. I’m sorry for my late essay last week. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t focus and I feel like I’m losing my mind half the time lately. May I have some insight or whatever you want on how I could do better. I know I’m doing…like, so bad.” She confessed and exhaled on the final note of her punctuation.

She turned a new type of stare towards him. Less intense and personal and more of a thousand-yard death grip.

Her entire demeanor in this moment was very lamb like. A confused air of innocent need to do well, to pass her classes, clouded her.

A weaker man would have felt more predatory, he noted.

She wasn’t unattractive for a human, not like past companions he worshiped the ground of. Of course. He was drawn to them for their natures, often ignoring their faces wholesale.

She started to chew and rip at her pinky nail and lower lip simultaneously…

“Of course,” He said. “I have to go help a friend with something, so I have to talk and walk.”

She nodded eagerly and gave such an appreciative smile. “Thanks!” The words came out so quickly, almost breathlessly.

She trotted along side him.

Once outside, they started discussing her options. She had to work nights, she stated, she said so they were arranging a time to work in a little extra help and tutoring.

He genuinely enjoyed her company and led her to a bench.

“What about your friend?” She asked.

“Oh, Nardole can handle himself.” He smiled. “He’ll not miss me for an extra four or five minutes.”

She laughed a bit.

She plunged her hand into her purse and started rifling around. It was a chaotic sight.

She produced a pack of cigarettes and a tiny green plastic lighter.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to quit, but it’s been hell lately.” She grimaced.

He shook his head, no, he didn’t mind. It wouldn’t affect him. Her, yes. But one little luxury, especially if she was trying to quit.

“So long as it’s your last for a while.” He took the teacherly route.

She lit up and took a huge drag. Closing her eyes he noticed that deep look of exhaustion had given her dark purple and almost black under eye circles. She had apparently tried to cover them up with some make up products and some mascara and smudged eyeliner. She held that breath in for a few seconds. It was almost beautiful.

She exhaled and fluttered them open. The smoke wisped and flew away quickly in the gentle breeze.

“Yeah, thanks. People get so weird about smoking. But they’ll vape? Like, indoors. All the time.” She rolled her eyes at that mildly hypocrisy.

They planned for her to meet up with him in his office on Monday just before the lunch hour. Then turned the conversation to some topics in debate that another student, a male who irked her with his constant urge to play Devil’s Advocate. She had some very often-overlooked viewpoints and a very bizarre way of describing things. It was enchanting.

“Thanks.” She ignored a boundary and squeezed his hand. He felt a holy jolt of electricity go up his arm from the small touch. “I gotta go…you’ve got a friend. Works been slow and I have some…appointments. So I have to make sure I’m perfect.” She elaborated with an almost tic-like shake of her head.

“Yes, my friend is probably going insane dealing with our little issue.” He responded in kind. Missy had probably caused Nardole to melt down or malfunction.

He watched her leave towards the bus stop. Her bags hitting her back as she rushed. Her coat barely covering her bottom and the belt caught in the hem of it. He felt himself feeling almost physically unable to leave the bench. Something tugging at his gut was preventing him from doing so. It felt akin to what River and Clara evoked in him but different.

River and Clara were strong and capable, avant-garde. Self-confident. Cocky. But this student was seemingly the inverse. Very vulnerable and nervous to the point of a near imperceptible, even to him with his keen Time Lord senses, shake and a heart that was audibly racing in its cage. Coupled with her addiction to cigarettes and minor tendency towards self mutilation via near-constant picking and chewing…

Something dark, but heartwarming rushed through his core and took root.

He felt himself deeply looking forward to Monday.

[soleillunne]

「 zhongvie 」

⤷ For @sylviegirly !! I had so much fun reading through your blog + the links you sent me !! I love you two, and I've decided you two are my parents now /lh Hope I did you two justice!!

⤷ I wasn't sure if you preferred 2nd or 3rd povs so I went with 3rd just to be safe (since you mentioned Sylvie is an oc) but if you'd like me to change it to 2nd please lmk!!

The streets of Liyue Harbor were bathed in the warm glow of lanterns, their golden light reflecting off the tranquil waters below like scattered stars upon a dark canvas. The scent of freshly baked sweets wove through the air, carried by the gentle evening breeze, mingling with the laughter of festival-goers and the soft murmur of lovers exchanging gifts. The docks swayed ever so slightly beneath the weight of the celebrations, the rhythmic lull of waves beneath them a constant, steady heartbeat amidst the night’s revelry.

It was a day of romance, of indulgence, of promises both spoken and unspoken. Valentine’s Day had come to Liyue once more.

And Sylvie, as always, was in the thick of it all.

“Come on, Zhongli, live a little!” Their laughter rang out like a bell, bright and effervescent, as they tugged at his wrist, weaving through the bustling market stalls with the enthusiasm of someone experiencing it all for the first time. And in a way, they were—five hundred years away meant missing quite a lot of changes, and Sylvie had no intention of letting any more slip through their fingers. “You used to be the god of contracts, right? Let’s make a deal. If you try at least three sweets, I won’t drag you into anything too absurd today.”

Zhongli huffed, though his steps held no real resistance. He allowed himself to be pulled along with the ease of someone who had long since learned that fighting Sylvie’s whims was a losing battle. “That is a rather vague condition, Sylvie. I’d rather not find myself in a situation where I must clarify the definition of ‘absurd’ with you.”

Sylvie smirked, sharp and teasing, eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, alright. Three sweets, and I won’t make you join a street performance.”

That gave him pause. A single brow rose, his lips pressing together in faint suspicion. “...Very well.”

The first treat was a candy, delicate and sweet, melting on the tongue like nostalgia itself. Zhongli hummed in quiet approval, his expression unreadable save for the faintest flicker of something distant in his gaze. Sylvie leaned in, grinning. “See? Not so bad, huh?”

His response was a simple nod, but the way he let the flavor linger, as if committing it to memory, did not go unnoticed.

The second was a mochi-like confection, soft and chewy, the kind that stuck to one’s teeth in the most infuriating way. Sylvie had chosen it on purpose, of course, and when Zhongli’s usually impeccable composure wavered for just a second too long—his jaw shifting ever so slightly as he tried to dislodge the stubborn treat—they nearly doubled over in laughter.

He let out a slow breath through his nose, reached for a handkerchief with practiced elegance, and shot them a look so dry it could have rivaled the deserts of Sumeru. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

Sylvie wiped at their eyes, still snickering. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

By the time they reached the third, Sylvie had decided to play fair, selecting something they were certain Zhongli would enjoy—a simple, well-balanced almond tofu, paired with a cup of warm tea. They found themselves at the harbor’s edge, where the distant hum of the festival softened into something gentler, the ripples of water catching the lanternlight in a dance of gold and crimson.

Sylvie stretched their arms behind their head, exhaling in satisfaction. “Not bad for a first Valentine’s together, huh?”

Zhongli glanced at them then, amber eyes reflecting not just the glow of the lanterns, but something softer—something warm, something knowing. “You say that as though we have not spent centuries together in one way or another.”

Sylvie turned to him fully, tilting their head. “Yeah, but this is different,” they pointed out. “Before, we were just two people who kept running into each other over and over, right? But now…” They faltered for a moment, the words catching somewhere between thought and voice, before shaking their head with a huff. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, setting his tea down with deliberate care. “A contract of the heart, then.”

“Oh, don’t you start getting poetic on me now,” Sylvie teased, though the flush at the tips of their ears betrayed their amusement. “I’d say something dramatic in return, but I think you already know, don’t you?”

Zhongli studied them for a long moment, the space between them narrowing, not in distance, but in something far less tangible. Then, with a gentleness that belied the weight of history between them, he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from their face.

“Yes,” he murmured. “I know.”

The world around them continued—lovers exchanging gifts, vendors calling out their wares, fireworks painting the sky with bursts of light—but for that brief, fleeting moment, it was just the two of them. Bound by time, by laughter, by something wordless and eternal.

And perhaps, just perhaps, by the promise of many more nights like this to come.

@soleillunne 2025. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[notalotjust4ever]

Welcome to my blog! 🎀

REQUESTS

WHAT I WILL WRITE FOR

No x Reader im sorry lovelies</3

TWILIGHT

Jasper Hale X Alice Cullen (ROMANTIC ONLY)

Bella Swan X Edward Cullen (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

Rosalie Hale X Emmet Cullen (ROMANTIC ONLY)

Carlisle Cullen X Esme Cullen (ROMANTIC ONLY)

Renesmee + Any of the Cullens/ EX: Renesmee + Rosalie (PLATONIC ONLY)

Any of the Cullens + Any of the Cullens/ EX: Jasper + Rosalie (PLATONIC ONLY)

Any of the Cullen’s + Bella/ EX: Bella + Emmet (PLATONIC ONLY)

SPIDERMAN (RAIMIVERSE)

Harry Osborn X Peter Parker (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

Mary Jane X Harry Osborn (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

Mary Jane X Harry Osborn X Peter Parker (PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC)

⋰˚☆ ⋰˚☆ ⋰˚☆ ⋰˚☆ ⋰˚☆ ⋰˚☆ ⋰˚

A GUIDE TO MY ASKS

WHAT I WILL 🚫NOT WRITE

Bathroom kInks (Pi$$/ Vomit/ Sc@t/ EprOctO/ EructO)🚫

KInks I am personally not into (Foot kInk, Feeder!sm/ WG kInk, vOre, InflatiOn)🚫

Necro🚫

Sexualized age regression🚫

!ncest/ !ncest play🚫

Su!cide/ Self-Harm, I will write suicidal thoughts or a character in recovery from self-harm but not somebody in the process of doing harm to their body or taking their life!!

R@pe, Non-Con, Dub-Con, or Consented Non-Con🚫

NSFW about any character under 18+ (Renesmee) 🚫

Anything I deem too toxic or aggressive, abuse, extreme yandere, violent NSFW🚫

Extremely violent and detailed murd3r, body horror, gor3🚫

Kn!fes in the bedroom🚫

Threat RP🚫

Any text that encourages an ED, I will write characters suffering from an ED/in recovery from an ED, but no pro-@na/ED propaganda🚫

Major character death🚫

Extreme angst🚫

Racism🚫

Any other POV than 3rd person (just a personal preference!) 🚫

Character X Reader (also personal preference!)🚫

WHAT I ✅WILL ✅WRITE

Characters with a disability or chronic illness! I'm actually so happy to write these, as a person with a chronic illness I believe representation is important in all forms (yes even fan-fiction). These requests might take a bit longer though just because I would like to do my research so I can portray the disability/ chronic illness correctly.✅

Neurodivergent Characters! (Written by neurodivergent author:D) ✅

Characters who you head canon as not cis! I also have my personal headcannons and not all of them line up with the canon so of course will be happy to write any character as trans (MTF/FTM), Non-binary, or gender fluid:) gender is beautiful folks!✅

Mild yandere behavior✅

Slightly suggestive works (WILL HAVE A WARNING) ✅

Smut (WILL HAVE A WARNING) ✅

K!nk (this changes in a case to case bases but chances are I will say yes more than I say no EXCEPT if it is one of the k!nks in the no-no area (WILL HAVE A WARNING) ✅

A character struggling with bullying or ableism✅

•Fluff✅

•Hurt Comfort (PLEASE PLEEK I LOVE HURT COMFORT ITS MY BABA)✅

Light angst✅

Active ED recovery!✅

Headcannons✅

GENERAL RULES AND TIPS FOR ASKS

Please do not interact with my NSFW posts if you are not 18+, it is more comfortable for both of us.

Don’t be afraid to talk to me! Ask me about my day, what I had for lunch, headcannons, whether I think Jasper would still love Alice if she was a worm LITTERALLY WHATEVA🎀 I’m here to talk to y’all and share my silly thoughts!

Please be specific with your requests! I don’t want to get something wrong plus it just makes for a better story!

I will not write your request or answer if you are being rude/ impatient, I have a life outside of Tumblr too<3

Please don’t ask me any personal questions that will risk my safety or security, I will not reply.

Please remember I am not perfect, I might not get to your request right away, I might get something wrong, be forgiving with me.

Please don’t fill my ask box with character hate.

If I refuse an ask just remember it’s not anything personal, I just didn’t feel comfortable writing what you requested.

Have fun! This is a safe space where you will find there is no place for judgement or haters!

RP

WHO I WILL RP FOR⋆.*ೃ✧

DM’s are always open for RP

୭̥°⋰˚ ALICE CULLEN ୭̥°⋰˚

✦°．• JAPSER HALE ✦°．•

•ू♡ HARRY OSBORN •ू♡

ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭ ೃ•୭

GENERAL RULES AND TIPS FOR ASKS

Please do not reach out unless you are 18+, I’m sorry I’m just not comfortable doing an RP with a minor.

The rules for RP are the same as my writing rules as it goes for do’s and don’ts so check it out above!

I only RP in advanced literate style. Check out the RP styles here⬇️

Please be understanding, I will probably not reply right any especially not on a week day as I have a job and hobbies🎀

If I refuse an RP please remember it’s not anything personal, I just didn’t feel comfortable doing the RP you purposed.

Please do not vent to me in my DM’s, I will not reply to keep my own peace.

THIS INTRO IS TEMPORARY UNTIL I GET THINGS MORE ORGANIZED ON THIS BLOG WITH MASTERLISTS🩰

Thank you🎀

[prpfz]

I’m Evan: 24 and Australian (GMT+11).

MDNI / 18+ only: have your age on your blog or I won’t reach out. I prefer 3-5 paragraph replies, in 3rd person POV. Discord only. This will be angst and smut heavy but I still want a plot going on too.

I’m looking to write a king that is known for his ruthless cruelty. The borders are surrounded by body strewn battle fields and he will wipe entire towns off the map for the rumour of rebellion. He revels in the suffering of his people and endorses the worst of his enablers. He cherishes loyalty, but will betray them without any hesitation. He is narcissistic, power hungry, and an irredeemable villain.

This is where your character comes in. Are they the hero coming to stop him? One of his concubines? An old childhood friend? An arranged marriage from a fearful country? Regardless they end up under his thumb and unable to escape his ruthless clutches as he moulds them into the perfect “queen” he’s been searching to rule beside him.

I’d prefer female characters or feminine/softer men, and trans/nb characters are welcome too! Fantasy races like elves and tieflings are loved as well as spellcasters. Just please keep in mind that the end goal is your character submitting: though how is completely up to you (eg. fear, money, power, lust, trying to pull the strings from the background, or a stockholm syndrome love).

If you’re interested please be alright with the following content: non/dub-con, violence / gore, sado-masochism, power imbalances, blackmail, manipulation, emotional and physical abuse, and public sex. Potentially more too! Just no 🍪 - everything else is ok with discussion!

If interested please like this post or message me! Thank you! 🖤⚔️🥀

Leave a like, and the asker will get back to you!

And/Or

DM @zestyrp if interested!

[mothzarellaman]

The Life Series and Eyes (A Headcanon Rambling)

hello traffiblr! Y'all voted to have me rant about the life series and my personal headcanons regarding eyes, so. Here we go!

Overview

So let me hit you guys with a quick overview.

here's a quick reference. While these all depend on the individual, and the series, I'll explain what each general eye color means.

4+ Lives

People with 4+ lives fall into this category. Their eyes are a dark green, bordering on teal. I think it would be interesting if A. eyes act as a sort of weak gradient in terms of 4-1 lives. So, there's a bit more blue. 2. Personal headcanons regarding speakers, and their colors. 3. A sort of parallel to the Boogey eyes. both are very dark. So its harder to tell if they have 4+ lives somehow, or if they're boogey.

3 Lives

A classic. A nice, simple green. While the exact hue varies depending on the person (because of either violent or peaceful behavior/simply what looks good with them), greens have generally bright green eyes.

2 Lives

Similarly to 3, the exact hue depends on behavior of the individual. Someone who's more violent would be closer to an amber, while peace loving players lean towards more of a yellow-green. The eyes are always clearly yellow, though.

1 Life

While the others would go towards a color dependent on behavior, all bets are called off for reds. The hue is purely aesthetic. It is no longer a clue towards general behavior. There's rarely any allowance for personal preferences in reds. All they can see is violence and conquest.

Boogey

Basically, I reject the idea of boogies having purple eyes or glints for symbolism with watchers. It's far more threatening to me if their normally bright colored eyes are chips of the void. Obviously, characters still have pupils, I just don't include them in my style. I can't decide if Boogies have pure black eyes, or if their eyes are a dried-blood color so dark it only seems reddish in light.

0 Lives / Dead

And finally, we have grey eyes. When it comes to deaths before the final death, the bodies disappear quickly, as soon as the person respawns, I'd wager. But after that final death, their body remains. Their eyes quickly lose all color, and end up as grey. This was chosen just out of design choice, the lifeless look, and also, by incident, Scar's red-life skin. It makes him completely greyscale, so a similar logic applies here.

Character Specific Colors

Here's a quick guide to character specific colors. Again, everyone has a unique one. Do note that most of these are simply what looks good, as I've only had the time to watch Grian's pov, and not anyone elses.

Ik they don't really... look good and may not fit, but hey, I'm here to rant about design ideas, not actual colors lol. And you will not believe how hard it is to make 16 different palletes unique and at least kinda match the character while having the same main 4 colors. I will address Grian, dw. Boogey and dead eyes are the same color, regardless of character.

3rd Life

Alright, so, from the base rules, nothing changes. It uses the same logic mentioned up above. Green, yellow, red, and grey. There's no real special mentions here that are exclusive to 3L.

Last Life

Similarly to 3L, LL lacks any specific changes to eyes. The only addition are the new eye colors for boogey and 4+.

Double Life

Here, characters share eye colors. What do I mean by this? I mean, their signature eye colors are at a gradient with their soulmate's. So, for example, Pearl and Scott's Green eyes are mixed as a gradient with both are on green. This applies for every life, and every soulbond. It gives people slight clues as to who exactly their soulmate is, but its hard to tell. When scar showed up boasting purple eyes, everyone was confused, to say the least lmao.

Limited Life

ok i'm definitely the happiest with this one. The idea is that everyone's eyes are functionally, like a clock. I illustrated it really badly, but the idea is cool ok. The idea is that like, idk, every 1/8 of someone's eye represents an hour. Every hour lost from the 'benchmark' turns to the next color. For example, if someone has 24 hours, their eyes are pure green. If they have, say, 18, they only have 1/4 (2/8) of green left, the rest of their eye being green. If they have only an hour left, they only have an 1/8 of an eye red, the rest being grey. The color of their current life slowly recedes in an almost spiral pattern as time goes on. If someone somehow had 24+ hours, same rule would apply to their 4+ life, so to speak. they'd only have a sliver of the dark green, with most of their eye being their 'normal' green.

Grian

okay, I know for sure people are questioning why Grian's eyes are neon purple. The reason why is on the simpler side. Watcher. He's the only one out of the players to be an actual watcher. Some people (like Pearl and BigB) definitely have some ties to them, but Grian's the only full blown watcher. (Martyn is tied to the listeners, who are green to me, so his colors are greener despite being prone to violence lmao. And Scott is tied more to the Speakers, who are blueish/cyan to me. Pearl, as Scott's soulmate in DL, has that bluish tint to a degree. )

But, you might ask, how do people not notice??? Well, its because of my Grian design.

This is old and it doesn't quite show my idea well, but alas.

I've already made reference images for this and I can't find the motive to draw a Grian headshot lmao. The idea is taking the Watcher's face plate. You know the one. The mask. And taking that, and instead of having the Evo symbol, no, it has, guess what. Grian's weird freaking eyes. Yep. Whether this was his attempt at camouflaging himself among non-watchers, or if it was his basically middle finger towards them, refusing to show obvious alliance with them, idk. All I know is he basically vandalized his Watcher mask. Still, you might say, that doesn't explain why is eye color is purple. Well, if you take away his mask, it's either basically a void with purple eyes inside, or probably some sort of void looking crack through his face, as if it isn't actually flesh. He can choose to have 'normal' eyes, but they always remain that Alexandria's Genesis purple, and it messes with his sight. Basically he sees too much. (I'd elaborate in my Watcher/Listener/Speaker post if people wanted 👀)

[autistic-crypt1d]

For the fic author asks: 5, 18, 25, 26, and 39? Pick an’ choose your faves if that’s too many. XD

Hi ten!! Thank you for the ask!! Never too many, I love it 😁

5. Where so you get your title inspiration from?

I'm actually the worst about titles and when I do actually post something, 9/10 times that title was given zero thought and was a placeholder that I could not think of how to replace XD sometimes they're still good tho. First Date Frost is not one that I think is good but it's all I had.

18. How do you decide what POV to write in?

I honestly don't think I've ever finished writing something that wasn't 3rd person omniscient. I like narrating the scenes, emotions, and characters lives like a documentary. It gives me the freedom to focus on one character or multiple at any time and to tell exactly how much I want to tell at any given moment.

25. Is there a scene you dreaded writing?

Hmmmm, not that I can think of? There have definitely been difficult scenes and scenes I have entirely skipped for the time being because I don't know how to do it justice yet though. I love angst so there's never a point where I'm like "man this is gonna suck" or anything.

39. Do you have a preferred writing snack/drink?

So I may be strange in this, but I don't snack while I'm writing, it throws my focus. I do however try and stay hydrated especially when I'm super focused on my writing for hours. I drink water with sodastream lemonade flavoring (I'm allergic to lemons just like Rodney but I looooove lemonade and this is the only fake stuff I could find lol) topped off with some sodium supplement drops. It's delicious and very hydrating!