#we'll get some Echo soon

[superlarva]

Some much needed hugs in this chapter!

Chapter 3 of my baby domino twins and dad Rex fic without a name if any of y'all have suggestions I'd love to hear them, I can't decide on a good title :(

Links to previous chapters: 00 01 02

Next chapter: 04

Summary: Rex and Fives bond as they get ready for bed.

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse

Chapter 3 - Home

Rex’s keys clattered across the hallway floor loudly. He cringed and held his breath, stopping in his tracks. Fives’s head burrowed deeper into his shoulder, his boney legs constricting around Rex’s hips.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Rex hushed quietly, hoping the boy wouldn’t fully wake up.

Fives shifted again in Rex’s arms, pressing his small body up even further against Rex’s chest. The boy hummed quietly, slowly pulling himself from the depths of sleep, “…Echo?”

“Rex!”

Rex whirled around, clutching Fives tight as the boy jerked awake in his arms. He was met with a familiar face staring at him half hidden behind a mop of jet-black hair and the door to apartment 6116.

“Hardcase!” Rex heard Jesse’s voice bark from deep within the apartment behind the teen in front of him.

“What?” Hardcase answered, still eyeing Rex and the boy in his arms.

“Leave him alone. Aren’t you supposed to be grounded?”

Hardcase rolled his eyes, turning his head back towards the apartment, “Aren’t you supposed to be putting Tup to bed? Anyways, Kix isn’t even here right now.”

“Right, so that means I’m in charge. Get back in here.”

Hardcase stepped out into the hallway and let the door slide shut behind him, grinning at Rex, “Oops.”

Rex readjusted his grip on Fives as the boy squirmed in his arms, trying to turn to see the new presence in the hallway.

Hardcase moved into the kid’s line of vision and gave a small wave, “Hey, little guy.”

Fives snuggled his head back down into Rex’s shoulder, clearly not wanting to interact.

“Hardcase,” Rex warned, moving to pick up his keys. “You should listen to Jesse.”

Ignoring the comment, the teen bent down and grabbed the keys swiftly before Rex could reach them, “Here, let me get that for you.”

Rex sighed and let Hardcase open his apartment for him, holding out his hand for the keys as the door swung open, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Hardcase said, dropping them in Rex’s palm.

“Get back in there before you give your brother an aneurism,” Rex ordered over his shoulder before kicking the door closed behind him.

Rex set Fives and the bag of clothes down on the kitchen counter, “Sorry for waking you up. My friends can be a little, uh… overly enthusiastic. Sometimes.”

Fives rubbed at his eyes looking around the small kitchen and adjoining living room.

“Yeah, so, this is my apartment,” Rex wrung his hands, studying the boy’s curious glances for hints of satisfaction or distaste. “I know it’s not that big, but it’s got two bedrooms, so, you know, I figured it should be alright if you and Echo are okay sharing a room.”

Fives’s eyes snapped to Rex’s, a look of pure wonder etched across his face, “A whole room just for me and Echo?”

“Uh, yeah… is- is that-” Rex stumbled over his words, anxiety building in his chest. He took a deep breath, “Is that not okay?”

“We never had a whole room to ourselves before.”

“Oh, well, yeah, you guys will have your own room. It’s not set up or anything yet, so we’ll need to do that.”

“Tonight?”

“No,” Rex said the edges of his lips twitching up at the hopeful note into the boy’s tone. “Tonight we’re just gonna get you all cleaned up and ready for bed. First up, we got to take off these shoes.”

As Rex removed Fives’s socks and shoes the boy fidgeted uncomfortably.

“Something up?” Rex asked, peeling off a sock.

“Was…” Fives’s faced screwed up in confusion. “Was he a grown up or a kid?”

“Who? Hardcase?”

Fives nodded.

Rex chuckled, “Yeah, I can see how that’d be confusing. He’s a teenager, so he’s kinda in between being a big kid and an adult.”

“Will I be a teenager too?”

“Mhm,” Rex affirmed, taking off the last sock, “When you turn thirteen.”

“When will I turn thirteen?” Fives asked, letting Rex help him hop down off the counter.

Rex dug around in the shopping bag and pulled out one of the pairs of dino pajamas and a pair of underwear, “Do you know how old you are now?”

Fives shook his head, following Rex as he made his way towards the bathroom.

“Well, when’s your birthday?”

“What’s a birthday?”

Rex stopped outside the bathroom, looking back at the boy’s questioning face. The kid had no idea how heartbreaking his innocent question was. Rex sighed and stepped into the bathroom, depositing Fives’s new clothes on the counter, “It’s the day you were born when you were a baby. Everyone has a new one on the same day every year. So, for example, on my birthday this year I turned twenty-four.”

Fives looked down at his own body then looked up at Rex, “I don’t think I’m twenty-four yet.”

Rex turned away from Fives, both to obtain a clean towel from the cabinet and also to hide his face from the boy. Every word Fives said solidified just how deprived and neglected the twins had been in her care. It made him livid, not just at her, but at himself: for not being there, for not even trying to find out that he had kids he should have been there for. He did not want Fives to see him fuming and think he was angry at him, so he took a deep breath.

Once he made sure his expression was neutral, Rex turned back to Fives, “No, not yet. I think you’re around seven right now.”

“So, then I’ll be a teenager in six years?”

Rex smiled, surprised that with Fives’s lack of basic knowledge he knew how to do subtraction, “Yeah, I think so.”

Rex had showed Fives where everything was in the bathroom and explained how to work the shower bath, but he still resorted to fidgeting nervously in the hall outside the closed door after he got changed into his pajamas.

After only a few minutes of waiting the water in the shower turned off. Rex rubbed the back of his neck, listening intently for any cries of distress. That had been an awfully short shower for the amount of filth on the kid.

After waiting and not hearing anything from inside the bathroom, Rex’s anxiety won out and he knocked softly on the door, “You okay in there, bud?”

“Y-yeah,” came a slightly panicked response. “I’m almost done. S-sorry.”

Rex frowned, “It’s okay, take as long as you need.”

Rex stood outside the door for a minute trying to think of something better to say to ease the boy’s anxieties before he gave up and went into his bedroom to sit on the edge of his bed. As soon as he did, he heard the bathroom door open, and a little face appeared behind it.

“All done?” Rex asked, surprised that Fives actually did look clean.

The boy nodded, pushing a sopping wet curl away from his forehead.

Rex laughed and made his way over to Fives, who opened the door a little more for him.

“Here,” Rex said, grabbing the towel that Fives had left on the edge of the tub and using it to dry his hair, “If you rub it on your head like this it’ll dry your hair.”

Fives squirmed a little, but calmed down after Rex explained what he was doing. When Rex was done drying Fives’s hair, he hung up the towel on the back of the door and began rummaging around in his bathroom cabinet for a new toothbrush for Fives. After finding one, he held it out, “Toothbrush.”

Fives took the toothbrush, and went over to the sink, “Can I use your toothpaste?”

“Yeah, of course.”

As Fives brushed his teeth, Rex picked up the boy’s dirty clothes from the floor and threw them into the wash, changing his settings to “soil level heavy” before letting it run.

By the time he had finished, Fives reappeared from the bathroom. He smiled shyly as Rex approached, “I put my toothbrush next to yours.”

“Perfect,” Rex said, smiling.

Fives smiled back.

“Ready for bed?” Rex asked, hitching his thumb to his bedroom.

Fives regarded him nervously, “Is-isn’t that yours? Your room?”

“Yes, but I’ll be sleeping on the couch,” Rex said quickly, pointing to the couch behind Fives in the living room.

“I can sleep on the couch,” Fives said, looking up at Rex with big innocent eyes.

“I’m sure you can, but I would feel a lot more comfortable if you slept in a real bed tonight.”

“But…” Fives’s eyebrows pushed together in confusion, “But it’s yours?”

“Your right,” Rex nodded. “And that means I get to make the decision of who sleeps in it.”

Fives stared at him, bewildered.

“And I’ve decided that person is you.”

Again, the boy made no response.

Rex sighed, “Am I going to have to chase you in there?”

Fives sobered and shook his head vigorously, slowly backing away from Rex and sidestepping into the bedroom. Rex held back a smirk and followed the boy into the room.

Fives was standing in the middle of the floor, looking between Rex and his queen-sized mattress. He had a funny look on his face, almost as if he were asking permission to approach the bed.

“Go on,” Rex snipped, jerking his head toward the bed, he was exhausted and just wanted to get Fives to sleep as soon as possible so he could crash himself. He regretted his clipped tone as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to scare the kid.

Fives climbed up onto the bed and sat on top of the sheets, balling them up into tight fists as he stared at Rex, Rex thought for further directions.

No.

Not for further directions.

There was a slight quiver in the boy’s lip just visible in the dark room.

Fives was trying not to cry.

Rex, scared he had frightened the boy, covered the distance between them slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, a bit away from Fives, “What’s wrong?”

At that Fives burst into tears, his whole body shaking. Rex tried not to get upset himself and took a deep breath. He didn’t know if Fives was crying because of him or just because of everything he had gone through today or because of Echo, or what, but he wasn’t going to be able to figure it out unless he handled this with tact. Rex thought back to all the times others had tried to comfort him before settling on his first question.

“Do you want me to stay here or go?” Rex had hated it when the people who had hurt him tried to comfort him and he didn’t want to do the same with Fives, but he also didn’t want to say anything that would make Fives assume that Rex thought Fives was upset at him.

Fives tried to say something but was racked with a fresh wave of sobs and nothing but unintelligible noises came out of his mouth. Finding a solution to his problem, Fives shakily uncurled one of his fists and reached out to Rex.

“Stay?” Rex asked, scooting closer to the boy.

Fives nodded and grabbed Rex’s arm, pulling it to his chest and hugging it with all his strength.

“Okay,” Rex said softly, pulling Fives into a hug with his free arm and rubbing the boy’s back. Rex didn’t really know what to do but whisper the phrase “you’re okay, I’ve got you” over and over as he rubbed circles.

Luckily, it seemed to work and eventually Fives’s sobs slowed down and his grip on Rex’s arm loosened a little. Rex squeezed the boy tight before pulling back a bit so he could see his face, “Okay now?”

Fives wiped a tear from his eye and took a shuddering breath before shrugging a little and closing his eyes as more tears spilled from them.

Rex pulled him in close again, cradling Fives’s head to his chest, “Oh, bud… What’s the matter?"

“Y-y-you’re- y-you’re-” Fives was starting to hyperventilate, clinging to Rex for dear life.

Rex’s heartrate picked up. He’d done something wrong hadn’t he. And now his son was practically inconsolable. He carded a hand through Fives’s damp hair, hoping to calm him down enough that he would be able to speak.

“You’re t-t-too nice t-to m-m-m-m-me!” Fives let out with a wail.

Rex froze. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t that. He went back to rubbing Fives’s back as he tried to organize his thoughts. Suddenly he realized. He turned to the shaking boy in his arms, “Fives?”

The boy sniffled and shifted his head to peak at him, “M-mh-hm?”

“Do you know why they called me to come get you and Echo?”

Fives shrugged, “B-because you’re a- a policem-man?”

“Because I’m your dad.”

Fives looked up at him in confusion, tears come to a halt.

“Do you- do you know what that means?” Rex asked softly.

“It means…” Fives trailed off. “…you have to take care of me?”

“It means I get to take care of you and I get to make you feel safe and I get to make you happy.”

Fives scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve, sniffling, before regarding Rex curiously and saying in a small voice, “I didn’t know you were my dad.”

Rex smiled, he could barely believe it himself, “I am.”

Fives cocked his head to one side, “Eh-Echo said you were probably a bad man.”

“Do I seem like a bad man?”

“No… but Echo s-s-said you-” Fives took a second to snort some of his snot back up into his nose, “-said you come get us if you w-were a good guy.”

Rex cringed; he knew Echo was right. When he looked down, he was comforted by Fives unjudging face. The boy wasn’t mad at him, just confused, just trying to figure out how everything fit together. Rex shifted the boy off of his lap and onto the bed so they could face each other more comfortably, “You know how you said you didn’t know I was your dad?”

Fives nodded.

“Well, I didn’t know you were my son. Not until today.”

“Oh,” Fives said, blinking slowly. “And I r-really am?”

“You really are,” Rex echoed softly.

@marierg @stressed-cherry @ffdemon @renton6echo @bambambunny @xylionet @tazmbc1

[felassan]

Snippets.

A user asked if there are instances wherein Rook will be referred to by their last name. "Yes, there are places where we refer to Rook by their last name. It's very contextual - we don't want to awkwardly insert a reference in where it doesn't make sense - but it does happen, though it is going to be more common with some backgrounds than others."

Q. "Does Solas have a type of tea he doesn't mind as much as others? Or are all of them equally detestable?" A. "Orange zinger."

A user asked about the ages of the companions. "We're not getting into specifics right yet, but the companions cover a broad range of ages and experience. They're all pretty established in the world and in their expertise by the time you meet them, though. You are recruiting a team of experts after all."

You can have body tattoos!

John Epler: "Echoing Corinne, the last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind but also incredibly rejuvenating. I'm so excited to share more with y'all."

A user stated "There are no restrictions on lineage/faction/class combinations other than dwarves cannot be mages". Corinne added "Correct. I've really been enjoying the different combinations."

Q. "Will the gender identity of a trans/non-binary Rook be acknowledged in game by other characters? (beyond just pronouns I mean)". A. "There are moments when you can disclose and discuss, however, disclosure remains the right of the individual so you have to make that choice for yourself." (!!)

Re: release date. ''Exact date has not yet been revealed. Fall 2024 is as much as we can say right now.''

''Lots of great cameos in the game, but I'm not going to spoil anything. You'll have to play to see who shows up for yourself.''

''We can't reveal our upcoming marketing beats or media presence just yet. Stay tuned.''

Q. ''Can companion AI be customized - ie. DAO/DA2 style tactics or even something like Aggressive -> Defensive'' A. ''Very different system this time around. In the skill trees you can affect their behaviors, like setting you up for combos, or auto-healing you when health gets low. Each Companion is a little different mechanically.''

Q. ''Will we get the option to give our Rook more fantastical hair colors, like purple, blue, pink?''. A. ''Yes''

Q. ''How about heterochromatic eyes?'' A. ''Yes''

Corinne: ''We're so excited too! As much as I've played, I absolutely cannot wait to do my first playthrough when the game is out. Also cannot wait to hear about all of your decisions and experiences.''

Q. ''Will I be able to make a short qunari and a tall dwarf or are there limits to that? Do the qunari have to be buff?'' A. ''There are limitations, of course... but yes, you can make a Dwarf that is tall or a Qunari that is short, relative to their lineage. We stan the skinny Qunari''

Corinne: ''Need to get back to it, all. But it's always a pleasure to check-in and see the great questions. We'll do this again soon :)''

[source: the official BioWare Discord]

(emphasis mine)

[enhafilthandfiction]

ok hear me out (yall have a bet) imagine mutual masturbation with jake, but the one that cums first has to give the other a head.. regardless of the winner j@ke ends up eating you out

Dumb Games - Jake Sim

A/N : Hello everybodyy I. am. back. (after being dead for like 345 months). Anyways, just wanted to say that I missed you all sm! <3 I hope you are all doing well and ready to enjoy reading this fic! Anon tysm this is such a good idea oml esp with bff!Jake 🤭

Pairing : Bff!Roomie!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings : Kinda pervy and desperate Jake, mutual masturbation, oral (f.rec), dirty talk (bc cmon it's Jake), panty smelling (sry), some fingering and I think that's it :))

Word Count : 1,268 Words

Masterlist

It was a normal day for you, laying in bed, reading, scrolling through Pinterest, studying, until-

"Y/n? What is thisss?" your roommate's tone which echoed through the corridor told you he was up to some mischief. You lift your head up curiously as he stumbles into your room, your expression quickly changing when you notice what he's holding. "Jake!" you yelp, rolling out of bed to chase after him.

"I didn't know you owned a pink dildo" he lets out amazed, looking back at your tired figure which was still running after him. He giggles and escapes to the living room, settling on the couch as you follow.

"Oh and it vibrates too!" he exclaims in awe.

"Yeah, now give it back" you breathe, trying to catch your breath.

"Nah, come get it" he lifts his arms up and you scurry to get your personal object back, climbing on his sitting figure as you reach for it, but his arms were too damn long.

"Jake, please, just give it back" you sigh, giving up. You don't even realise you're pretty much straddling him in the position you're at until you feel his other hand on your arm.

"How about we make a deal?" he asks, a playful smirk on his face. "last person to make themselves cum wins"

You deadpan at him "Are you kidding?" you ask in a simple tone.

"Nope, and the loser has to finish the other off" he adds, looking at you hopefully. "Plus I'll give you this back so you can use it in the meantime" he shakes the pink object in his hands, flicking his brows up and down.

You've always kinda liked Jake, he was funny and unserious and just your type. But he was also the person you pretty much grew up with. You were scared to lose such a friendship so you never actually made a move. This was your chance.

You roll your eyes in faux annoyance "Fine. You're gonna be the one cumming too quick anyways. We'll see how good you can give head." you shrug, giving him a pretty smile "Now give me my damn dildo back"

He laughs and places the plastic dick in your waiting hand, before looking up at you, smoothing his hands down your sides. You looked so pretty like this on him, he couldn't wait to see you pleasuring yourself.

You get off him too soon, finding your place at the other end of the big couch, spreading your legs as you snake a hands between them. "Fuck" he curses under his breath, his already-hardened cock twitching in his uncomfortable pants.

He also leans back on the opposite end of the couch, quickly untying the stings of his sweats and sliding them down impatiently along with his briefs. His cock springs out, the angry red tip already leaking precum.

You bite your lips at the sight of him, wondering how he'd feel inside you. One thing's for sure; that pink plastic dick wasn't half as good.

You get comfortable, rubbing your clit through you shorts. "Show me that pussy" he instructs, slowly stroking his shaft. You blush red, smiling at his impatience. Nevertheless, you lift your hips up and slide the shorts down along with your panties which you knew were soaked.

Jake didn't hesitate to grab the black material, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. You roll your eyes and sigh at his pervy behaviour. "Jakeee" you whine "That's dirty"

He doesn't seem to care, groaning at your smell and at the sight of you. "Fuck you're glistening" he points out, licking his lips as he speeds up his pace a little. #

You spread your juice around, circling your hole, closing your eyes at the tingling sensation. His lips almost start to draw blood at the way he's biting them, his hand going up and down his cock quicker.

He can't help the way his eyes are fixated on you, watching your expressions and your fingers touching yourself. He knows he's gonna lose the second you put a finger inside yourself, squeezing his base to calm himself down.

You open your eyes to stare at his, as if in a challenging manner, the sounds of your gushing juices fills the room, his curious eyes looking at where you finger yourself.

"Close Jakey?" you ask in a breathy voice which goes straight to his dick.

He breathes in "N-no" he lets out, his shaky voice betraying him. He can't help himself though. You want him to lose, adding another finger to your tight hole and moaning out loud.

He's done for when you purposely moan out his name, sending him into a frenzy, his eyes roll to the back of his head and before he knows it, his hands are drenched in cum.

You sigh at him "I didn't even get to use my dildo" you faux pout when he slowly opens his eyes, recovering from his orgasm.

"You won't need it" he mutters, getting off the couch and making his way to you. He grabs your thighs and positions you so that you're sitting comfortably on the couch. He doesn't waste a second to sink down on his knees, spreading your legs as he takes you in.

"So fucking hot" he whispers under his breath. He's been waiting to taste you for so long. Smelling your panties just made him more impatient. You nod at him when he looks up at you from between your legs and he dives in.

He flattens his tongue and licks up your folds in one go, immediately humming at your taste. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your hole before slightly prodding it in just to tease you. His licks his way up you clit, kitten-licking the little nub sending tingles up your spine.

"Fuck Jake" you breathe out, subconsciously grasping his hair between your fingers. You push his head deeper into you, encouraging him to suck at your clit. He hums at the little tugs on his hair, the pleasurable sting going to his dick.

He licks back to you hole, his nose bumping against your clit, making you whine out. You can't help but close your thighs around his head, engulfing him into you. He brings his hands up to your thighs, keeping them open before he brings one hand to your hole.

You feel like you're going to explode with his finger prodding at your hole and his tongue on your clit, the stimulation becoming too much. "Fuck, fuck r-right there" you moan out, pulling at his hair to ground yourself.

The way he hums against your folds doesn't help, your hips twitching at the feeling. He starts finger fucking you at a quicker pace, his mouth still working on your clit. All it takes is one last suck on your sensitive clit before your squeezing around his finger and tipping your head back in pleasure.

He eagerly licks up your essence before you push his head away due to overstimulation. You catch your breath as he sits up and settles on the couch next to you.

"Hate to admit it but that was one of your best ideas, Sim" you chuckle out, still in a haze.

"I never come up with bad ideas dumbass" he replies, also chilling back into the couch, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

"We should play this dumb game again sometime" you suggest, trying to place a hint.

"Damn you liked it that much didn't you?" he asked giggling

"It's always nice seeing you lose your own game"

Hi again, thankyou for reading to the end :D I hope you enjoyed it !! Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333

[yuomizuu]

♡ | open arms ── kinich x reader !

synopsis: a bit of kindness can go a long way. at least, that was what the elders in kinich’s clans would often say. though in a land where war with the abyss is at a constant, he finds it difficult to truly believe such a notion. perhaps meeting you simply had the sole purpose of erasing those doubts that shrouded his mind.

additional: w.c 899 ⸝⸝⸝ content includes . . .gn reader, implied friends to lovers, character study www

( 💌 ) yuomi’s note: slowly but surely reverting back to my musical kid phase ty mr. jorge for creating epic and what better way to commend that than doing some kinich brainrot ^w^

natlan — a nation of eternal oaths and converging fires. where the sacred flame burns brighter with each chant of the epic hymn that echoes from land to sea, bringing back valiant warriors, now deemed heroes, anew.

yet beyond those blazing flames of ardent also lies a resplendent nation full of color and life. made up of magnificent gorges and valleys that stretch as far as the eye can see, vibrant fields where the saurians roam free, and rejuvenating springs that ease the weary, you'll find a unique beauty reflected within it all.

for most of his life, kinich had often found it difficult to view his homeland through the lens of the latter. since a young age, misfortune has always seemed to follow him wherever he goes, like a relentless beast chasing down its prey that's slowly becoming more and more exhausted. where no matter how far he soars, the shackles of a brutal reality always drag him back down. eventually, such experiences would sometimes render the lone saurian hunter an austere individual, whether intended or not. in his eyes, the world was but a tapestry of unbridled battles.

it was only after meeting you that, slowly but surely, kinich would gradually learn to appreciate the more charming aspects of life and even gain a sense of tenderness towards it. however, that still doesn't cause him to lower his guard completely.

"kinich, you're doing it again," you mused, the lush grass below softening your footsteps as you and your companion tread through the forest. the occasional murmur of wild animals hidden within the trees or nestled away in burrows echoes throughout.

hearing this, the male ahead of you briefly stops in his tracks to glance back at you with a puzzled look. "doing.. what exactly?"

stopping beside him, you motion at the weapon held in his hand. "gripping onto your sword so tightly that the tips of your knuckles are turning white. i swear… it's like you're expecting us to get ambushed out here any minute."

in response to your sigh though, he simply shrugs. "perhaps we will be."

"kinich, we barely took on this commission not that long ago, and we aren't even at our intended destination yet. i doubt we'll find ourselves walking into trouble so soon."

"better to be prepared for catastrophe before it strikes when you least expect it."

an air of laughter escapes from you then. "catastrophe," you repeat to yourself, head shaking in slight amusement. "we aren't exactly tackling the abyss here you know."

"no, but if we were, your lack of attentiveness would surely lead us to such." in between his pause, you catch sight of the subtle curl of his lips. "not even ajaw would be so heedless, and that certainly says something."

"you little…!"

balling your hand up into a fist, you immediately go to throw a punch on his arm that ultimately does not land when the now chuckling male catches it effortlessly. not that such a punch would've hurt him in the first place, but kinich is all for finding the humor in evading your poor attempts at attacking him. plus, you've managed to land a good punch or two on him before, although he blames ajaw for distracting him during those moments.

before you can pull your hand away from his grasp and unwillingly accept defeat this time, kinich intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand firmly. without saying another word, he turns to continue walking along with you at his side now.

due to your good-natured sense of self, it's often left kinich to be roped up in more conflicts than he'd usually expect: said conflicts are getting you out of trouble.

but even in the face of danger, you never cease to look for the good in others. while many have considered this trait of yours to be a display of naive foolishness, it felt like a breath of fresh air for kinich. while he was also considered to be different from those of his tribe concerning certain viewpoints and beliefs, you were an oddity that transcended beyond his own novel ideals. if you had not been born and raised in natlan, kinich would've surely mistaken you for being an outlander. even you had once jokingly said that perhaps you were actually a child of the anemo god, barbatos, that the wind had accidentally blown too far from home.

because, unlike the fierce fires that dwelt within the spirit of every warrior in natlan, your flame was akin to that of a candle: a gentle yet comforting light that simply wished to share its warmth with the world around them and kinich would do anything to keep that light of yours burning for evermore.

he'll never admit to you aloud, but he secretly thanks the anemo archon every day for sending him a beautiful soul such as yourself. your presence alone was as calming as a gentle breeze, and his love for you a sweet, sweet melody.

"speaking of ajaw, where is the little rascal anyways?" you ask, breaking the silence as you look around to find the creature that has strangely gone quiet.

"i sent him to scout ahead for a bit. he'll be back soon enough."

a soft smile creeps onto your face. you spare the male one more glance before giving his hand a light squeeze.

"of course you did."

[herrscherofinsanity]

The Princess and Her Guard: Timeless

Princess y/n and her personal guard, Jimin, have always shared a special bond, nothing has ever been able to come between them.

Fluff.

Childhood friends to lovers

Karina (Yu Jimin) x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

I was watching 'The Princess Diaries' and got this idea.

____________________

The palace gardens were a sight to behold in the summer, a vibrant display of color and life that drew the attention of every visitor. On one particularly warm afternoon, a young Jimin found herself exploring the lush greenery, her family's visit to the palace offering a rare opportunity to wander freely.

As she rounded a corner, she was met with an unexpected sight: a little girl, about her age, sitting in the middle of a flowerbed, covered head to toe in mud. Her hair was disheveled, and her dress, which had once been a pristine white, was now a canvas of dirt and grass stains.

Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you alright?" she asked, stepping closer.

The girl looked up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm fine," she declared proudly. "I was trying to catch a frog, but it got away."

Jimin couldn't help but smile at the girl's adventurous spirit. "Do you need help getting cleaned up?"

Before the girl could respond, a flustered retainer came rushing over. "Your Highness! What have you done?" The retainer's voice was a mix of exasperation and concern. "We must get you cleaned up immediately."

Jimin's eyes widened further as she realized the identity of the mud-covered girl. "Your Highness?" she echoed, a bit stunned.

The retainer gave her a quick glance before turning back to the blonde girl. "Princess y/n, you mustn't get yourself into such a state. Come along, let's get you back to your room."

y/n, however, seemed unperturbed by the retainer's scolding. She stood up, mud clinging to her dress, and turned to Jimin with a wide grin. "I'm y/n," she said, extending a dirty hand. "What's your name?"

Jimin hesitated for a moment, then took the offered hand. "I'm Jimin," she replied, a bit shyly.

As the retainer began fussing over y/n, Jimin stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do. y/n, noticing her new friend's discomfort, waved the retainer away. "I want to play with Jimin," she announced. "We'll get cleaned up later."

The retainer looked scandalized. "But, Your Highness—"

y/n cut her off with a firm look. "Please leave us," she said with surprising authority for a child. "I'll come inside soon."

The retainer, realizing there was no arguing with the determined princess, sighed and reluctantly left the two girls alone.

Jimin, still processing the fact that she was in the presence of royalty, tried to curtsy. "It's an honor to meet you, Princess y/n," she said formally.

y/n rolled her eyes and pulled Jimin up from her curtsy. "None of that," she insisted. "You're my friend now. Call me y/n."

Jimin blinked, taken aback by the princess's insistence. "But... you're a princess," she said uncertainly.

y/n shrugged, wiping some mud off her cheek with the back of her hand. "So? Friends don't need to be formal. Besides, it's boring when everyone calls me 'Your Highness' all the time."

Jimin smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Okay, y/n."

The two girls spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the gardens together, laughing and talking as if they had known each other for years. y/n's adventurous nature and Jimin's steadying presence complemented each other perfectly, setting the foundation for a lifelong bond.

As the sun began to set, y/n finally allowed herself to be led back to her room to get cleaned up, Jimin walking beside her. The two girls parted ways reluctantly, promising to meet again the next day.

From that moment on, they were inseparable. y/n had found a true friend in Jimin, and Jimin had discovered that beneath the title and the royal trappings, y/n was just a girl who loved adventure and fun. It was the beginning of a relationship that would grow stronger with each passing year, much to the delight and amusement of the royal family.

-------

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Jimin's presence at the palace became a regular occurrence. Her parents, dedicated to their roles in protecting the royal family, often brought her along. This meant more opportunities for the young Jimin and Princess y/n to cross paths.

y/n, ever the bold and curious princess, found herself increasingly intrigued by the serious and focused Jimin. She would often seek out Jimin during her training breaks, peppering her with questions about her life, her training, and her family. Jimin, though initially reserved, couldn't help but be drawn to y/n's infectious enthusiasm.

One sunny afternoon, y/n found Jimin practicing her archery skills in a secluded part of the palace gardens. She watched from a distance as Jimin expertly hit target after target, her concentration unbroken.

"Wow, you're really good at that!" y/n called out, stepping into view.

Jimin turned, slightly startled but quickly composed herself. "Thank you, Princess y/n."

"Please, just call me y/n," the young princess insisted with a grin. "Can you teach me how to shoot an arrow like that?"

Jimin hesitated, glancing around to see if any adults were watching. "I'm not sure if that's allowed..."

y/n laughed and grabbed a bow from the rack. "Come on, Jimin. It’ll be fun! Besides, no one will know if you don't tell them."

Reluctantly, Jimin agreed and began to instruct y/n on the basics of archery. They spent the afternoon together, laughing and learning, with y/n showing a surprising amount of talent and determination.

As their friendship grew, so did their shared adventures. y/n would often drag Jimin along on her escapades, from exploring hidden corners of the palace to sneaking into the kitchens for midnight snacks. Jimin, though initially wary, found herself enjoying these moments of carefree fun. She admired y/n's boldness and began to open up, sharing stories of her own life and dreams.

One rainy day, as they sat in y/n's chambers, watching the raindrops race down the window, y/n turned to Jimin with a serious expression. "Jimin, do you ever get tired of all the training and responsibilities?"

Jimin looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "Sometimes, but I know it's important. My family has always served the royal family. It's our duty."

y/n nodded, her eyes shining with a mix of admiration and determination. "I think it's amazing what you do, but I want you to know, you don't always have to be so serious. You can have fun too, you know?"

Jimin smiled, a rare and genuine smile that lit up her face. "I'll try, y/n. As long as you're around, I think I'll manage to have some fun."

-------

Ten-year-old y/n darted through the palace gardens, her hair catching the sunlight as she giggled. The gardens were her playground, a maze of flowers, hedges, and hidden nooks that she knew better than anyone. Today, she was playing a game of hide-and-seek with her best friend, Jimin, who was a year older but always indulged y/n's playful spirit.

Jimin, with her dark hair neatly tied back, was trying to find y/n. She moved with a quiet grace, her eyes scanning the foliage with a keen focus. y/n, hidden behind a large rosebush, peeked out and stifled a laugh. She watched as Jimin searched, a smile on her face.

Eventually, Jimin spotted a glimpse of perfectly adorned hair. She crept up quietly, then jumped out with a shout. "Got you!"

y/n squealed, jumping up from her hiding spot. "You always find me, Jimin!"

Jimin laughed, brushing dirt off y/n's dress. "That's because you always hide in the same places."

y/n pouted playfully. "Well, it's because they're my favorite spots."

Jimin smiled, her eyes softening. "I know." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bunch of lilies she had picked earlier. "I got these for you. They're your favorite, right?"

y/n's eyes widened as she took the flowers, her heart doing a little flip. "You remembered..."

"Of course," Jimin said, looking a bit embarrassed but pleased. "I know everything about you."

y/n held the lilies close, her cheeks flushing. "Thank you, Jimin. They're beautiful."

They sat down on the grass, and y/n couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in her chest. She looked at Jimin, who was now lying back, staring up at the sky. The sunlight dappled through the leaves, casting soft shadows on Jimin's face.

In that moment, y/n felt a clarity she hadn't experienced before. It was more than just the friendship she had always known. It was something deeper, something that made her want to be near Jimin all the time, to share everything with her.

"Jimin," y/n said softly, still clutching the lilies. "Do you think we'll always be together?"

Jimin turned her head to look at y/n, her expression serious. "Of course, y/n. I'll always be here for you."

y/n's heart soared at those words. She leaned over and placed a light kiss on Jimin's cheek. "I hope so. Because I don't ever want to be without you."

Jimin blushed, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she smiled and took y/n's hand, squeezing it gently. "I promise."

They sat there, hand in hand, the garden around them buzzing with the sounds of nature. For y/n, this was the moment everything changed. The lilies in her hand were a symbol of something new and beautiful blooming in her heart.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, y/n and Jimin knew that their bond was something special, something that would grow and strengthen with time.

-------

Fifteen-year-old Jimin stood in the palace library, her eyes scanning the shelves for a specific book y/n had mentioned wanting to read. The library was quiet, a sanctuary of knowledge and calm, much like Jimin herself. She found solace here, among the countless stories and histories.

y/n had recently developed a keen interest in the history of their kingdom, and Jimin, always eager to support her friend, often accompanied her to the library. Today was no different, though y/n was currently attending a lesson with her tutors. Jimin intended to surprise her with the book she had been searching for.

She finally located the book and pulled it from the shelf, a satisfied smile on her face. As she turned to leave, she nearly bumped into one of the palace maids, who was dusting the nearby shelves.

"Sorry, Yuna," Jimin said, stepping back.

Yuna, an older maid who had been with the palace for years, smiled warmly at Jimin. "No need to apologize, dear. Always busy looking after the young princess, aren't you?"

Jimin nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I like to make sure she has everything she needs."

Yuna chuckled softly. "It's more than that, isn't it?"

Jimin looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

The maid's eyes twinkled with a knowing look. "I've seen the way you look at her. It's more than just duty."

Jimin's blush deepened, and she glanced away, clutching the book tighter. "I... I care about her a lot."

Yuna patted Jimin's shoulder. "It's alright, dear. Anyone can see how much you care for each other. Just make sure to be true to your feelings."

With those words, Yuna moved on, leaving Jimin standing there, her heart pounding. She knew Yuna was right. Over the years, her feelings for y/n had grown into something deeper, something she hadn't fully understood until recently.

Jimin took a deep breath and left the library, heading towards the courtyard where she knew y/n would be finishing her lesson. As she approached, she saw y/n seated under a large oak tree, her tutor speaking animatedly while y/n took notes.

When y/n looked up and saw Jimin approaching, her face lit up with a smile. "Jimin! Did you find the book?"

Jimin nodded, holding it up. "I did. I thought you might want to read it after your lesson."

y/n's smile widened, and she quickly thanked her tutor before rushing over to Jimin. "You're the best! I can't wait to read it."

Jimin handed her the book, their fingers brushing lightly. The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she had to remind herself to stay composed. "I'm glad you like it."

y/n looked at her with those bright, expressive eyes, and Jimin felt her resolve weakening. She wanted to say so much, to tell y/n how she truly felt, but she hesitated, unsure if it was the right time.

"Hey," y/n said softly, stepping closer. "Are you okay? You seem a bit... distracted."

Jimin forced a smile, shaking her head. "I'm fine. Just happy to see you happy."

y/n's eyes searched Jimin's face, and for a moment, Jimin thought y/n might press her further. But then, y/n simply smiled and took Jimin's hand, leading her towards the garden. "Come on, let's find a nice spot to read together."

As they walked hand in hand, Jimin felt the warmth of y/n's touch and the comfort of her presence. She knew her feelings were growing stronger, and she hoped that, one day, she would find the courage to share them with y/n.

For now, she was content to be by y/n's side, cherishing the moments they shared and the bond that only seemed to deepen with time.

------

The throne room was imposing, its high ceilings and ornate decorations a testament to the kingdom's grandeur. Seventeen-year-old y/n strode confidently through the massive doors, her heart pounding with determination. She knew she had to act fast; Jimin's eighteenth birthday was approaching, and with it, the assignment of her permanent position within the royal guard.

King Alistair and Queen Eleanor sat on their thrones, discussing matters of state. They looked up as y/n approached, her expression resolute.

"Mother, Father, I need to speak with you," y/n said, her voice steady.

Alistair raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Of course, my dear. What is it?"

y/n took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "As you know, Jimin is turning eighteen soon, and she'll be assigned her permanent position as a guard. I... I want her to be my personal guard."

The queen exchanged a glance with the king, both intrigued by their daughter's request. "Go on, y/n," Eleanor encouraged.

"Sir Cedric is getting old, and I will need a new guard soon. Jimin has been by my side for as long as I can remember. She's loyal, skilled, and understands me better than anyone else. We've grown up together, and she knows how to keep me safe while also giving me the freedom I need."

Alistair leaned forward, his interest piqued. "And what makes you think Jimin wants this assignment?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with determination. "I know she does. She loves her duty, and she's always taken care of me. I can't imagine anyone else by my side. Please, Father, Mother, I can't lose her."

The king and queen exchanged a thoughtful look, considering their daughter's passionate plea. They had always admired Jimin's dedication and had seen the bond between the two girls grow over the years.

"Your request is well thought out, y/n," Eleanor said softly. "But this decision also affects Jimin. We need to ensure it's what she truly wants."

y/n nodded, her heart hopeful. "I understand. But I believe she'll say yes."

Later that day, Jimin was summoned to the training grounds by the highest-ranking knight, Sir Alden. She arrived, curious and a bit nervous, unsure of what to expect.

"Jimin, thank you for coming," Sir Alden began, his tone formal yet kind. "We have an important matter to discuss. Princess y/n has requested that you be assigned as her personal guard. This is a significant responsibility. Are you willing to accept this position?"

Jimin's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. A life dedicated to protecting and being close to the girl she loved more than anything? It felt like a dream. Her mind raced with excitement and joy, but she maintained her composure.

"Yes, Sir Alden," Jimin replied, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "It would be an honor to serve as Princess y/n's personal guard."

Sir Alden smiled, seeing the sincerity in Jimin's eyes. "Very well. The decision is made. Report to the princess immediately."

Jimin bowed deeply, her heart soaring. "Thank you, Sir Alden. I won't let you down."

Jimin made her way to y/n's chambers, her steps light with excitement. She knocked softly on the door, and when y/n opened it, her eyes lit up with joy.

"Jimin!" y/n exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. "Did they tell you?"

Jimin nodded, her smile wide. "Yes, they did. I'm officially your personal guard."

y/n's eyes shone with happiness and relief. "I knew they'd agree. I'm so glad, Jimin. I can't imagine anyone else by my side."

Jimin's heart swelled with love and devotion. "I'll always be here for you, my princess. I promise."

From that day forward, their bond grew even stronger. Jimin was not just y/n's guard but her confidante, her protector, and her closest friend. And for Jimin, being by y/n's side was more than a duty—it was a dream come true.

------

The day Jimin turned eighteen was marked by an official ceremony, where she was appointed as Princess y/n's personal guard. The palace courtyard was filled with the royal family, guards, and other dignitaries. y/n watched with bated breath as Jimin, dressed in her formal uniform, took her oath with unwavering dedication.

y/n beamed with pride as Jimin was officially recognized for her new role. Despite her professional exterior, Jimin felt a deep sense of happiness and fulfillment. This was the moment she had been training for her entire life, and to be assigned to y/n, her closest friend, made it even more special.

After the ceremony, y/n and Jimin found themselves in the privacy of y/n's chambers, away from the formalities and prying eyes.

y/n flopped onto her plush bed with a grin. "That was quite the ceremony, wasn't it?"

Jimin stood at attention, her demeanor still formal. "Yes, Your Highness."

y/n raised an eyebrow, her playful side emerging. "Why so formal, Jimin? You've been calling me 'princess' or 'Your Highness' all day."

Jimin straightened even more, if that was possible. "It's protocol, Princess y/n. As your personal guard, I must adhere to proper etiquette."

y/n rolled her eyes and sat up. "Oh, come on, Jimin. We've known each other since we were kids. Can't you drop the formalities, at least when we're alone?"

Jimin hesitated, clearly conflicted. "I have to follow the rules, y/n. It's my duty."

y/n's eyes sparkled with a mischievous idea. "Let me ask you this, Jimin. Do you have to follow orders given to you by me?"

Jimin nodded, her expression serious. "Yes, Princess. I must follow your orders."

A wide grin spread across y/n's face. "Then I order you to drop the formalities when it's just the two of us."

Jimin's eyes widened, and she hesitated, her professional training at odds with y/n's request. "But, y/n—"

y/n cut her off, her tone gentle but firm. "You can be formal when others are around if that's what makes you comfortable. But when it's just us? No formalities. Please, Jimin. I want you to be yourself with me."

Jimin took a deep breath, her resolve wavering. She knew better than to argue with y/n, especially when she had that determined look in her eyes. "Alright, y/n. I'll try."

y/n's face lit up with a triumphant smile. "That's more like it. Thank you, Jimin. It means a lot to me."

Jimin relaxed slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Anything for you, y/n."

y/n reached out and squeezed Jimin's hand. "We're in this together, Jimin. Always."

------

The moon cast a gentle glow over the palace grounds, the stars twinkling in the clear night sky. Eighteen-year-old y/n and nineteen-year-old Jimin walked side by side, the cool night air filled with the sounds of crickets and rustling leaves. They had managed to sneak away from the palace, a skill they had honed over the years, and now found themselves by the tranquil lake.

Jimin, now officially y/n's personal guard, couldn't help but glance around, always alert even in the peaceful setting. y/n, however, was lost in her thoughts, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She had been waiting for the right moment, and tonight felt like the perfect time.

They found a spot by the water, a place they had claimed as their own over the years. y/n sat down, patting the ground next to her. "Sit with me?"

Jimin nodded, her usual composed demeanor softened by the intimacy of the moment. She sat close to y/n, their shoulders brushing. "It's beautiful out here tonight."

y/n looked at her, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes. "Yeah, it is."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other's presence. y/n's mind raced, her heart swelling with emotions she could no longer keep bottled up. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage.

"Jimin," y/n began, her voice soft but steady. "There's something I need to tell you."

Jimin turned to her, concern and curiosity mingling in her gaze. "What is it, my princess?"

y/n bit her lip, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her dress. "We've known each other for so long. You've always been by my side, through everything. And... and I've realized something important."

Jimin's brow furrowed slightly, her full attention on y/n. "Go on."

y/n took another deep breath, her heart racing. "Jimin, I love you. I don't just mean as a friend. I love you in a way that I can't even put into words. You mean everything to me, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Jimin's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. She had always sensed something deeper between them, but hearing y/n's confession made her heart skip a beat. "y/n, I..."

y/n continued, her voice filled with emotion. "I don't want anyone else, Jimin. I've loved you for so long, and I can't keep it to myself anymore. I needed you to know."

For a moment, Jimin was silent, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. Then, she reached out, gently cupping y/n's face with her hand. "y/n, I've loved you too. For years. I just... I didn't know if you felt the same way. I was afraid of losing you."

y/n's eyes filled with tears of joy, and she leaned into Jimin's touch. "You'll never lose me, Jimin. We're meant to be together."

Jimin smiled, her own eyes glistening with tears. "I love you, y/n. More than anything."

They moved closer, their foreheads touching in a familiar gesture that had always grounded y/n. This time, it was different, charged with the weight of their confessions and the promise of a future together.

As they pulled back slightly, their eyes locked, and y/n whispered, "Kiss me."

Jimin didn't need any further encouragement. She closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of years of unspoken feelings, of love and devotion that had finally been acknowledged.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, but their hearts felt lighter than ever. They leaned against each other, gazing out at the moonlit lake, knowing that this moment was just the beginning of their new journey together.

In the stillness of the night, under the watchful eyes of the stars, y/n and Jimin found the courage to embrace their love, ready to face whatever the future held, as long as they were together.

____________________

Bonus:

y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned closer to Jimin during the early evening. "Let's sneak out tonight," she whispered, her excitement palpable.

Jimin sighed, knowing full well she couldn't resist her princess's whims. "y/n, you know we could get in trouble for this," she said, trying to sound stern but failing to hide the fondness in her voice.

y/n pouted playfully. "But it'll be fun! We never get to have adventures anymore. Please, Jimin?"

With a resigned smile, Jimin nodded. "Alright, my princess. Midnight it is."

As the clock neared midnight, y/n tiptoed to her window, peering out to see Jimin already waiting below. She could see the worry on her guard's face even from a distance, which only made her grin wider.

She carefully opened the window and started to climb out. "Shhh, Jimin! You're going to wake everyone up with all that pacing," she teased.

Jimin glanced up, her expression a mix of concern and exasperation. "y/n, please be careful. If you fall..."

Just as y/n was about to respond, her foot slipped. She let out a small yelp as she lost her grip. Jimin immediately rushed to catch her. They both tumbled to the ground, y/n landing on top of Jimin.

For a moment, there was silence as they both processed what had just happened. Then, y/n burst into laughter, her giggles echoing through the night. Jimin, after ensuring y/n was unhurt, joined in, their laughter mingling together.

y/n sat up, still chuckling. "Well, that was unexpected. Are you okay, Jimin?"

Jimin smiled up at her, brushing a strand of hair from y/n's face. "I'm fine, as long as you're okay, my love."

y/n's heart fluttered at the endearment. She stood, pulling Jimin up with her. "Come on, let's go before someone hears us."

Hand in hand, they ran through the gardens, the cool night air brushing against their faces. y/n felt a rush of exhilaration, the thrill of the adventure mixed with the warmth of Jimin's hand in hers.

They wandered through the palace grounds, exploring the moonlit gardens and whispering secrets to each other. y/n felt alive, her worries and responsibilities melting away with each step.

As the night began to wane, Jimin gently tugged y/n back towards the palace. "We should head back before we're missed."

y/n pouted but nodded, knowing Jimin was right. They made their way back to y/n's room, Jimin helping her climb back in through the window.

Once inside, y/n turned to Jimin, her eyes softening. "Thank you for tonight, Jimin. I needed this."

Jimin smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to y/n's forehead. "Anything for you, my princess. Sleep well."

As Jimin disappeared into the night, y/n settled into her bed, her heart full and her mind replaying the night's adventure. She knew that no matter what, as long as she had Jimin by her side, every moment would be perfect.

-------

Back at the palace, the royal family gathered for breakfast in the sunlit dining room. The morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the table. y/n and Liz sat beside each other, with their parents, King Alistair and Queen Eleanor, at the head of the table. Jimin and Aeri were stationed nearby, ready to attend to their respective princesses if needed. The conversation was light and casual, a mix of laughter and updates about the day’s plans.

King Alistair cleared his throat, a sound that immediately drew everyone’s attention. “Something very amusing happened to me at the Yu Estate,” he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Queen Eleanor, sensing the tone, leaned in with interest. “Oh? What happened, dear?”

The king glanced at Liz, who was sipping her drink. “I caught the crown princess sneaking out of her room.”

Liz choked on her drink, eyes widening in surprise. y/n giggled, thoroughly enjoying the moment, while Aeri tensed up, trying to remain composed. Even Jimin let out a quiet laugh, despite her best efforts.

Queen Eleanor’s eyes widened as she turned to her eldest daughter. “Is that true, Liz?” she asked, though the reactions around the table already gave her the answer.

Liz, cheeks burning, nodded slowly. “Yes, Mother.”

Queen Eleanor shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, at least this one didn’t fall off the balcony.”

y/n let out a loud gasp. “You know about that!?”

This time, it was Jimin’s turn to tense up. She looked at y/n with a mixture of amusement and mild panic.

King Alistair laughed heartily. “What surprises me the most is the fact that Jimin even allowed y/n to be near the balcony like that.”

Queen Eleanor added, “And I’m surprised everyone found out. y/n and Jimin are usually masters at sneaking out.”

All eyes turned to y/n and Jimin, waiting for an explanation. y/n took a deep breath, a sheepish smile on her face. “Well, nothing bad happened. I just slipped, and Jimin caught me.”

Jimin nodded in agreement. “It was a bit chaotic, but yes, I caught her.”

Queen Eleanor chuckled. “I suppose I should be grateful for that. But perhaps you two could avoid balconies in the future?”

y/n laughed, smiling at Jimin from across the room. “We’ll do our best, Mother.”

King Alistair shook his head, still amused. “Just try to be a little more careful next time. Both of you.”

Liz, finally recovering from her initial shock, looked at her younger sister with a mixture of exasperation and admiration. “You really do know how to keep things interesting, y/n.”

y/n winked at Liz. “Of course, big sister. Life is never dull with us around.”

The family continued their breakfast, the mood light and filled with laughter. Despite the playful chiding, there was an undeniable sense of love and understanding at the table, a testament to the bond that held them all together.

____________________

A/N: Hi! How are you guys doing? Honestly, this was supposed to be way longer; I was going to give princess Liz a bigger role along with Aeri as her guard, they were supossed to be an angstier version of y/n and Jimin... I might explore that some other time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one! If you have any requests feel free to send them, I read all of them and I'll get to them someday, I promise.

[singswan-springswan]

ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased. 

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone. 

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems. 

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching. 

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face. 

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun. 

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer. 

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things. 

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko. 

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

[the-au-thor]

A Complete Guide to Delivering Bad News | Spencer Reid Blurb

"You're scared. I'm scared. But we'll figure it out—together."

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warning: click here!

You crossed the door softly, your steps as silent as a ghost. Even the usual clack of your heels didn’t echo through the living room like it normally would when you had something to say. But this time, you weren’t sure how to feel about it. That sharp, gnawing sensation of uncertainty weighed on you, as though the longer you delayed walking to the study, where Spencer was probably sitting and reading, the more time you have to solve that Rubik’s Cube. Yet, when you turned down the hallway and reached the study’s threshold, you realized it was less like a cube and more like a Penrose staircase.

Frozen in place, you stood just inside the doorway, clutching the straps of your bag tightly, already regretting your choice of heels. You watched him from the shadows in that gentle, looming silence—like some kind of deadly warning: break the stillness, and face the consequences. It was as if Spencer were a mythical beast, an ogre, perhaps, who would be angered by any interruption of his reading. But you knew better. He’d finish the book soon enough, lifting his gaze once it was done.

When Spencer read for pleasure, he took his time, savoring every page. But when it was for work or research, he read ravenously—devouring words, lines, and paragraphs like a starving predator. He absorbed them completely, committing every critical detail to memory. Not a single line was ever lost on him.

It only took him a few long seconds to finish his book before he closed it with an almost annoyed snap. He seemed frustrated—maybe the mystery remained unsolved, and that was bound to irritate him. Running a hand through his soft, slightly unkempt hair that was overdue for a cut, he finally lifted his eyes. His chocolate gaze settled on you, and you could see the surprise flicker across his face.

His hand rose to his mouth, his fist partially covering it—a thoughtful gesture you’d come to recognize as religiously Spencer. Behind his reading glasses, which he’d started wearing again after a mandatory work eye exam, his brow furrowed slightly, as if he saw something in you that he couldn’t quite name.

“Hey,” he greeted you simply. “Didn’t think you’d come by today.”

That was just how he was. Spencer didn’t bother with formalities or obligatory social niceties. No “hello” or “how are you.” He always went straight to the point.

For a moment, you forgot how to speak. Looking down at the tips of your stilettos, you let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “I was nearby and thought I’d stop by to say hi. But you’re working on a case, so… obviously, it’s a bad time. I’ll just come back when we agreed.”

You faltered, retreating into your own nervousness.

You didn’t believe in irrational fears. Every fear had a source—either a clear, imminent danger or a subtle, buried trigger. Natural fears, like the instinct to flee from a hungry predator, were different from conditioned ones, like the rising panic in a crowded room with stifling air. Whether natural or induced, you couldn’t yet tell which kind of fear this was.

“Hey, no.” Spencer stood, crossing the room to you in just two strides. His hand gently wrapped around your arm, holding you in place as you glanced down at his touch. “You always do this—you show up, say something half-formed, and then you leave. You don’t have to come over just because it’s a day we planned. You know you can come by anytime, right?”

Your brow furrowed slightly as you shook your head.

“There are planned days because you work,” you replied. “And I respect your work too much to get in the way.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. Slowly, he leaned closer to you, his movements deliberate, testing, teasing. You knew what he was doing—he loved the control, the way he could make you feel completely his without even touching you.

It didn’t take much for you to melt into him. With Spencer, you felt like water—your boundaries dissolving, your willpower slipping. When he kissed you, it was as though every principle, belief, and argument you had vanished. You became something fragile yet intensely alive, caught in the paradox of being both deconstructed and reconstructed by him.

When his lips finally met yours, you surrendered, feeling his breath warm against your skin. Your eyes fell closed, not entirely sure why. Perhaps it was a way to shield yourself from the overwhelming rush of it all, or maybe it was your body’s instinctive attempt to hold onto the feeling, locking it inside where it couldn’t escape.

But then something snapped—you realized it was you, shifting closer to him, pulling him to you as your hands clung desperately to his frame. The fear coursing through you drove you into his arms, like this might be the last time you’d let yourself do this.

Spencer didn’t seem to mind. His hands moved from your cheeks to the small of your back, gentle yet unyielding, like he was afraid of breaking you but couldn’t resist the pull to touch you.

He always touched you. When you ate together, your feet would inevitably find each other beneath the table, a playful connection. On rare, rainy afternoons spent watching TV instead of him reading aloud to you, your legs would tangle in an unspoken agreement of intimacy. Even in the quietest moments, when you rested beside him, he would absentmindedly brush his fingers along your shoulder or twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, completely unaware of how tethered he kept you.

As his hands returned to your cheeks, you knew the kiss was ending. He pulled back, pressing a series of soft, lingering kisses to your lips before stopping altogether. His smile brushed your forehead as he rested his lips there, lingering for a moment before taking your hand.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, his tone light. “I was working on some research for an old case that’s been reopened. The FBI wants every department to solve at least one old case. But I could use a break—you have great timing.” His eyes sparkled with intensity as he lifted your entwined hands to his lips, kissing your fingers. “How about Chinese takeout?”

Your stomach churned at the suggestion, bile rising at the back of your throat. Normally, you’d say yes, but today, the thought of eating anything made you shake your head. You stopped him halfway down the hall, unable to speak as a tight knot formed in your throat. The words were there, tangled, trapped, unable to escape.

"I need to tell you something."

You couldn’t look him in the eye, so you focused on the undone buttons of his blue plaid shirt. He wore a gray vest over it, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Normally, you’d call it formal, but on him, it was quintessential. Spencer Reid simply wouldn’t be Spencer without his signature style.

"Hey," he whispered, dropping his smile and replacing it with a worried expression, as if your single sentence had triggered his defenses "What is it? What’s wrong?"

You lifted your gaze, realizing your eyes were clouded with unshed tears, ones you didn’t want to let fall but knew would eventually betray you. You hated being the cliché of the girl who cries before saying something important, but there you were. You also hated how you couldn’t rein in your emotions.

You’d tried convincing yourself to see him as just another man you had to interview. That didn’t work. Then you told yourself: He’s older than yoy; he can only ever be your friend. And finally, you can’t love him. And yet, here you were, in love with him, tears threatening to spill over because of him.

"I’m so sorry," you said, pulling your hand free from his.

You wanted to hold on, to cling to him like your lungs clung to air. But touching him only made it harder. Touching him hurt. Looking at him hurt. Loving him hurt.

When you looked at him again, his expression was pained. Spencer couldn’t help it. His job sometimes required him to mask his emotions, and though he had the ability to do it at will, he never did so with you. He allowed himself to be vulnerable around you, and that made you feel even worse. You wanted to give him the same, but your defensive nature always got in the way, tugging at you like two ends of a rope being pulled in opposite directions.

"Why are you apologizing? Seriously, love, you’re scaring me"

Spencer covered his mouth with his hand, studying you thoughtfully. He was trying not to analyze you—you could tell. He always made an effort because he knew how much you hated being read. He had told you before that he preferred hearing things directly from you when you were ready, instead of taking what was yours to give.

You, on the other hand, nervously tucked your hair back and glanced around again, as if the vase, the mirror, or the coffee table might lend you courage. But if courage came, it would have to come from within.

"I know," you stammered. "And I’m sorry for that too. Normally, I’m good with words, you know that, but..."

"Hey," he said again, softly, stepping closer and gently cradling your face to make you look at him. When his kind brown eyes met yours, part of you calmed, finding solace somewhere between the dark freckle in his iris and his pupil. You closed your eyes to shut him out. You didn’t need solace; you needed the dizzying unease to summon the courage.

"You know you can tell me anything," he paused, giving you space to speak, but you didn’t. "Love?" he called again, but you couldn’t answer. Not if the first thing you’d see upon opening your eyes would be him. "Is it really that bad?"

That’s when the first sob escaped you. It wasn’t intentional, but it was the release of all the panic bottled up over the past two weeks and three hours. Two weeks of sleepless nights, subpar work performance, and the subsequent three hours of pure anguish and tension. Nothing about this was okay.

"If I tell you, you’ll hate me," you said, muffled against the fabric of his vest as he embraced you.

Spencer’s hands traced soothing circles on your back and nape, but he tensed at your words. You’d expected that. You were being so ambiguous he could’ve easily imagined you were about to tell him you had mere months to live. You couldn’t help it. That flickering fear ticked away like the seconds on a time bomb, and your tears continued to flow, defying your determination to hold them back.

"I could never hate you," he said with the certainty of someone stating that grass is green and water, when liquid, is wet. "The only way to deliver bad news is to just say it."

"I can’t do it."

"Then pretend you’re a doctor, and I’m your patient. Follow the protocol," he suggested. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, trying to calm yourself despite the tears that kept falling.

"What’s the protocol?"

"First, the doctor must keep their emotions in check."

You scoffed.

"I already failed at that."

Spencer chuckled.

"Alright, let’s move to step two: practice ahead of time what you’re going to say."

"I did," you nodded, sighing as you tried to breathe normally through your sobs. "But I forgot everything."

"That’s okay. Step three: make sure the environment is pleasant and safe."

You glanced around. Still in the hallway, it was safe but far from pleasant. You stepped back, slowly pulling away from Spencer, and led him to the living room, sitting him on the plush sofa. Instead of taking a seat beside him, as you would’ve preferred, you sat across from him. The space between you felt like a chasm. Spencer looked at you attentively, restraining himself, when it should’ve been you—the one delivering this ethical "protocol"—who was calm.

"What’s next?"

Admittedly, it was more an excuse to stall the inevitable than genuine curiosity, but Spencer had started this game with his suggestion, so you felt he should guide you through it.

"Choose the right moment. Is this really urgent?"

You nodded quickly, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of your cardigan and trying to stop the tears, even as more threatened to replace the ones you’d just dried.

“I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Then the next step is to look the person in the eye and explain everything without overcomplicating it,” Spencer instructed.

Without thinking, you automatically looked at him, your expression contorted in pain as you blinked rapidly to chase away the tears.

“Okay,” you said, your voice breaking into a hushed whisper, but he heard you clearly. “Well… two weeks ago, I had that episode, remember?”

Spencer nodded, his eyebrows lifting in alarm at the memory.

“Yes, but you said it was stress from finals. I insisted you see a doctor. Stress can cause fainting spells, but there’s usually an underlying reason. I would’ve felt much better ruling out anything serious.”

You nodded slowly.

“I went to the doctor this morning.”

Suddenly, Spencer’s expression turned as pale as rice paper. A tremor ran through him, and you could sense it even from where you were sitting.

“It’s not serious… is it?”

His chin quivered with acute panic as he looked away, avoiding your eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

You gave yourself five seconds to muster the courage, then let it out.

“I’m pregnant.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a sharp, ringing sound—like a clap too close to your ear that left you dazed and half-deaf. Then came the dreaded silence. You could hear the ticking of the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall, the streetcars outside, even the construction at the end of the avenue. It all swirled around you, as if every small noise now existed inside the room. Even your heartbeat thundered loudly, like a persistent panic alarm inside your chest.

This was what you had feared the most: his silence. You would’ve preferred if he’d yelled, growled, or outright refused to be a father. But his silence was so calm it became deafening.

Minutes passed, and you started to feel suffocated, restless. You fiddled with your hands, glancing at your pale pink-painted nails. You wondered how long it would take before your fingers swelled so much your rings wouldn’t fit. You also questioned if you could do this alone.

You liked kids, and your job would allow you to spend time with a newborn without risking your career. You’d had great parents, who would undoubtedly make excellent grandparents. Your mom—above all—would probably be the first in line outside your apartment, ready to be your main support system.

But you wouldn’t have Spencer, and the baby wouldn’t have a dad.

Life without Spencer… you’d never considered that as a possibility. And you were the type of person who sat down and analyzed every possible option.

Hot tears burned your eyes again, and you decided this was the end of it. You wouldn’t break down in front of your baby’s father. Taking a deep breath, you swallowed the bitter saltiness of your tears and stood slowly, smoothing your cardigan and your hair.

When you finally looked at Spencer, you were startled to see his face filled with distress, still seated in the same position. His eyes were brimming with tears, and he barely seemed aware that you’d moved.

His gaze rose to meet yours, and he finally spoke.

“Do you promise?” he asked in a whisper.

Under different circumstances, you might’ve made a sarcastic comment, but you didn’t have the energy to joke. Instead, you nodded silently.

“I just found out this morning. Honestly, I didn’t even suspect. If it hadn’t been for the fainting and nausea, I wouldn’t have gone to the doctor. My cycle was even normal last month.”

“Yeah, that can happen sometimes. It’s called implantation bleeding. It occurs when the fertilized egg moves into the uterus,” he said, shrugging, “in simple terms, of course. But sometimes… it could be something else. Did the doctor say anything more?”

Your hand rested on your stomach, as it had done instinctively since you’d learned the news. You couldn’t feel any difference, but you knew something tiny was growing inside you.

“They said everything’s perfect, but I have to go back in a few weeks for my first ultrasound.”

Spencer nodded, and for a moment, you wanted to shake him, to force out the words you needed to hear. But you decided to give him the time he needed to process the news.

He frowned, looking confused.

“Why were you scared?”

That word unlocked the fear you’d been holding back, and the heat of fresh tears returned to your eyes.

“Because it wasn’t in the plan,” you mumbled, feeling your nose start to tingle, your chin trembling again. “God…” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and shook your head. “We don’t even have a plan.”

Spencer stood from the couch and pulled you gently toward him, cradling the back of your neck in his hand as he kissed your forehead tenderly.

“I know I said I was being careful, and I was, I swear,” you sobbed, finally letting your fear and sadness pour out. “But I don’t know what happened. The gynecologist said it could’ve been something like a certain food. Even with the most careful use, the pills only have a…”

“98% effectiveness. I know,” Spencer interrupted, stepping back just enough to wipe your face and study you carefully.

You felt like a mess. The tears had left you congested, but none of that seemed to faze him.

“I think I was more prepared for you to explode about it than to act all understanding and loving.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m always understanding and loving.���

You bumped your forehead lightly against his shoulder, embarrassed by your outburst.

“I know. But you once said you were afraid of having kids. You said it was because of your mom…”

“I know what I said,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. His warm breath brushed your skin like a caress. “But I didn’t really mean it. I’ve always wanted kids.”

“Really? But what about me? I’m not even sure I’m the woman you’d want to have a family with. I’m so younger than you, and I know that bothers you, even if you don’t say it. Then there’s your job. And I’m not… you know, cool or a badass. I don’t hunt serial killers for a living.”

Spencer laughed—a deep, genuine laugh that made you step back with a frown.

Here you were, spilling your insecurities, and he was laughing in response.

"That’s never mattered to me," he said, shaking his head. Honestly, it’s a relief you don’t “hunt serial killers for a living.” I’d spend my life worried sick about you."

You frowned harder, scrunching your eyebrows together so much it almost hurt.

"Like I do for you all the time."

Spencer nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"You’re amazing. The kindest, most caring, thoughtful, and intelligent woman I’ve ever met. “Cool” is honestly the simplest word I could use to start describing you."

He took your hands in his, his eyes dropping to them as he smiled faintly, shaking his head in thought.

"Sometimes, I’m scared that one day you’ll realize you could do better than someone as damaged as me and leave."

You gently pulled your hands free from his and stepped closer, cupping his face in your palms. Your fingers traced the small creases at the corners of his eyes and the ever-present shadows beneath them. You tried to think of something you’d change about him, but nothing came to mind. You shook your head firmly.

"If I wanted to be with someone else, I would be. I’d never play games with your feelings, and you know that," you said with a smile. "I don’t care about your traumas. Do you care about mine?"

He shook his head, his typical shy smile appearing as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

"The only reason I ever think about our age difference is because I worry that one day I won’t be able to walk as fast as you."

This time, you were the one to laugh.

"Then I’ll walk slower."

You knew people who had larger age gaps in their relationships. The only reason it ever came up between the two of you was because a few others had noticed. Sixteen years wasn’t that much, and even if it were, it had never really mattered to you. You were 28, and Spencer was 44—a fact that might have concerned others, but for the two of you, it was just a number.

Spencer ran his hand along your arm, his fingers stopping to rest on the hand you still had on his cheek. He smiled softly.

"I can’t imagine a better woman to start a family with than you. And I know the undefined nature of our relationship must’ve worried you."

"What are we going to do?" you asked quietly.

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well, first, I guess we’ll have to start looking for a house with a yard," he said, glancing around the room with a laugh "We’ll tell our friends and our parents."

His expression grew somber at that last part, and you immediately understood why.

"Your mom is going to be an amazing grandmother, whether she knows it or not. The baby will know. And we’ll be there to help her remember. I know that."

He nodded, his eyes glistening with emotion, before his smile returned.

"I’m sorry I was so scared. I must’ve scared you too."

He sighed and chuckled, sitting back down on the couch. But instead of letting you stay standing, he pulled you down with him, wrapping you in his arms and encouraging you to lean against him.

"I thought the doctor had found something strange or serious," he admitted.

You laughed softly.

"I didn’t know how to tell you. We’ve never talked about relationships or kids—except that one time you mentioned schizophrenia and I panicked."

"Next time you have a pregnancy scare, I want to be involved. I don’t want you going through that alone."

You frowned, looking up at him in mild surprise.

"I’m barely two months pregnant, and you’re already thinking about another one? You’re insane."

He groaned in mock protest.

"An only child? I was an only child, and I was constantly bored."

"And I’m the middle child with three siblings on either side. Let me tell you—sometimes it’s better to play alone"

"Four," he countered with a grin.

"Two," you replied, negotiating with a smile.

Spencer’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Three, and that’s my final offer."

[kaiser1ns]

i told you, didn't i? time is nothing but a construct, an easy thing to manipulate but we'll start with the living dead or the walking dead, call it however you like, my little puppet! everything is more fun when its uʍop-ǝpısdn. hope you will enjoy being stuck between the physical and spiritual realm. remember, reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram. buy gold, bye!

𝗷��𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗵𝗶!𝘀𝘂𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

THE CORPSE'S BRIDEㄑword count :: 6121 ▿ finding a red envelope with money often symbolizes marriage, but sometimes luck is just on your side as you pick it up in the city center. what you didn't know is that you accepted а marriage proposal. and this is how the suo family tricked you, a living woman into becoming the ghost bride of their deceased son.

CHOOSE ANOTHER DIMENSION IN WEIRDMAGEDDON

“You are a disgrace to our family.”

Every day it was the same old tune, like a broken bamboo flute that had worn out its melody. You’d hear it as soon as you stepped through the front door, sometimes even before. “How come the gods have cursed me with such a daughter?” your mother’s voice carried over the sounds of her stitching, accompanied by the echo of your father’s disapproving grunt. They acted like they were personally offended that you were still breathing.

Yes, yes … The unmarried daughter. You knew the script so well by now, you could predict every insult before it left their mouths. There was no getting out unless someone asked for your hand in marriage. It was already getting more than annoying, you wake up wondering when there will be a wedding and go to sleep thinking about how you want everything to end. If you had been born a boy, it would have been much easier for you, but apparently, the all-mighty gods want you to suffer.

“Are you in this house again?” Even though you were the one coming home from the market, laden with bags of food you’d bought with your own money. Not that they ever thanked you, for making dinner and serving delicious meals on their plates. The most gratitude you got was a side-eye from your mother as she sewed something, muttering to herself as she added the finishing touches to the red and gold dress.

You froze. Red and gold? No, no, no.

“What are you staring at?” She snapped, her needle pausing mid-stitch on a piece of crimson fabric that shined bright by the house lights. “This is your wedding dress if you ever manage to get a husband.” her tone was as sharp as the needle in her hand when she returned to her sewing, sighing at the fact that you were still here.

This wasn’t your first marriage guilt trip. Ever since your two older sisters had gotten married off, the pressure was on you. Sometimes you genuinely considered just disappearing poof and you are gone. Then you could haunt them forever, appearing in their dreams and turning them into nightmares.

“Mother, do you need me to do anything else?” you asked, hoping to escape even for a little while. Her eyes narrowed, the needle suddenly looking more like a weapon in her hand. “Go fetch some water from the well, and get something sweet for your father.”

You didn't need to be told twice. Grabbing the wooden bucket, you made your way to the center of the village. It was quiet for once, no bustling crowds or nosey elders asking why you weren't married yet. You mimicked your mother's nagging voice under your breath, lowering the bucket down into the well.

"Your sister is already expecting her first child, and you still don't even have a husband, blah blah blah..."

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your grip on the rope. The weight of it felt so familiar to your life, dragging downwards, just like your mother's hopes. And then, something bright caught your eye, a splash of crimson against the dull stone. You squinted. There, floating near the bucket, was a red envelope.

“Finally!" you muttered, quick to glance over your shoulder. It was an unspoken rule — finders, keepers. Maybe the universe had finally tossed you a bone. You bent down, fingers brushing the envelope's edge, and a chill ran through you, despite the sun hanging lazily overhead. Red envelopes were usually given for weddings. Could this be a sign? A stroke of luck for your otherwise underwhelming love life?

But the moment your fingers touched the envelope’s contents, the air shifted and the wind seemed to whisper your name—in a voice that wasn’t yours.

You looked around. No one was there. Strange.

Opening it like it was your last meal on this earth you couldn't believe your eyes. "Gold!" you whispered. The crisp smell of paper money filled the air, your fingers trembling slightly as you counted it. Your mind raced with possibilities—finally moving out, finally escaping the daily nagging, finally—wait.

Inside the envelope was a small, folded piece of parchment. It was old, the edges colored in yellow, and as you opened it, your heart sank. There was a lock of someone's hair, it was a slightly reddish brown with a small note tied to it. The words on the paper weren’t a blessing. They weren’t even good news. The name next to “groom” was unfamiliar: Suo Hayato.

Heart pounded fast as you pieced it together. You hadn’t just found some stray money. You’d accepted a proposal—a ghost marriage proposal. There are beliefs that if an unmarried boy is not married in the afterlife, his spirit could bring misfortune or illness to the living family members, pushing families to find a bride for him and one way to do that is to leave a red envelope, tricking the girl into thinking it has money. Because even in death, a person is not seen as complete without a partner. It also ties into beliefs about spirits and the afterlife, where the dead might reach out to the living to resolve unfinished matters.

Slowly your gaze slid back to the red envelope. An intricate pattern was etched into the surface, symbols you didn’t recognize. The kind of symbols your grandmother used to warn you about, eyes wide and voice hushed.

"Do not touch what belongs to the dead," she'd always said, but how exactly would you know that something belongs to someone who is not here anymore?

You cursed under your breath. Well, great. It was too late to back out. The Suo family had tricked you into becoming the ghost bride of their dead son. A gust of wind blew through the well, carrying with it a low, chilling hum. You swore you could hear that voice again, whispering softly in your ear, "Thank you for accepting me." 

That gentle voice, with that honeyed sound, made you shiver as your hands began to shake. That couldn't be true, it wasn't real. You just accepted an invitation to your own wedding and of course, no one alive would want you, of course, it would have to be someone dead. Quickly taking the overflowing water bucket you hid the letter in your clothes. You would think about it later, you were running late and would be scolded more than usual. The dead boy would wait a little longer, there was nowhere for him to run.

You go home as quickly as possible, the strange feeling of someone watching you still hasn’t left you. Your mother was done with sewing the dress, but she was nowhere to be found as you placed the bucket in the kitchen. Then you found her and your father in the garden talking, sitting between the statues of the ancient dragons that you and your father used to play among when you were little. When they loved their daughter and engagement did not destroy the relationship between a girl and her parents.

"I don't want our daughter to be treated like that. But this is what we should do." hiding behind the wall you were shocked by her words, eyes wide and tears started to form in your eyes. You never expected to hear such a thing from her as you wiped your tears and heard your father. "To keep this image of a perfect family. I hope someone asks for her hand soon because she won't live in this home any longer." Of course, traditionally, girls who did not marry were regarded as a threat to the entire family and were not allowed to continue living at home. Suddenly the letter fell out from inside your robe. You are practically married now and maybe tonight you will pay your husband a visit in the graveyards.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, was it? You hadn’t asked for this. But there it was—a contract, a promise, an unholy bond.

Fingers trembling, you snatched up the letter that had fallen and shoved it deeper into your robes, your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe this could be your way out. If the Suo family’s dead son had claimed you, then at least no living man could. You thought back to the voice, that soft murmur, almost too tender for something no longer living. But could you trust a voice that came from the dark?

Your parents' voices faded into the distance as you hurried to your room. The dress, a crimson red with delicate embroidery, hung neatly on the wooden frame, waiting for you. Its beauty felt like a mockery now, knowing your parents had likely sewn it for some stranger. You brushed your fingertips over the fabric, the reality of your situation sinking deeper. This dress would never be worn for a joyous occasion. Not for you.

As the evening sun began to set, you glanced out the window toward the distant graveyards. The lanterns lining the street flickered eerily against the walls. A strange pull began to take hold, like an invisible red string tugging you toward the resting place of the stranger you were about to marry.

But still, you were curious, who is this husband of yours? How old is he because that was important ... you didn't want to marry some 50-year-old grandpa. It wouldn't be your first time sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night when everyone was asleep because right now, the urge to go and find his grave surpassed even the heavenly world. It was time to meet him, the one who had called out to you, to see if this strange and unnatural union could be undone. Or maybe you were bound forever.

You could still feel his presence—the weight of it lingering in every step you took as you made your way through the empty streets. The moon hung low in the sky painting everything in its silver glow. The silence around you was oppressive, broken only by the sound of your sandals against the dirt path.

The closer you got to the graveyards, the colder it became. The wind picked up again, swirling around you, bringing the chills. You almost turned back to go home, but the thought of your parents, of being cast out from your home, pushed you forward.

Finally, you arrived at the gates of the cemetery. The iron bars stood tall and ominous before you, half-covered in creeping vines. Beyond them lay the rows of graves, their headstones arrayed like one great army. You swallowed hard, hesitating for just a moment, before pushing the gate open.

Your feet carried you towards the Suo family’s burial plot and the further you ventured in, the more you felt that presence intensify. It was suffocating, wrapping itself around you like a veil. And then, there it was—a single grave, marked with the name of your husband.

The earth before it looked freshly disturbed as if something—or someone—had been moving beneath the soil. You stopped, breath hitching, your body frozen in place. It had been dug up, there was dirt everywhere, and by the light of the lantern, you could see that the dug up was deep, to say the least. You put a hand over your mouth in complete shock. There was no one in the coffin. How come there was no one? Your breathing became heavier, the warm air coming out of your mouth suddenly turned cold, your eyes wide with complete fear when you heard noises near you. It could be someone passing by, a bird, or ... a rabbit.

A little white bunny, with a color just like the moon reflecting the yin energy. But will it bring you good fortune and peace in a place like this? Why did everything suddenly just turn into a scary fairy tale and why did you have to be the main character? You and the small animal looked at each other, its red eyes shining brighter than the lantern next to your face until suddenly it ran away when you tried to approach it.

And then, you heard it again—that voice. But this time, it wasn’t a whisper.

"Welcome, my bride."

The voice came behind you.

Swallowing hard your body shook, more than before as you couldn’t move. You stood in one pose, like a statue until you heard footsteps approaching. Spinning around, heart pounding in your chest, you screamed as loud as your lungs allowed. The sight before you was more horrifying than anything you could have imagined—a boy, or what had once been a boy, stood there, grinning at you. You instinctively threw your lamp in defense, the small flame flickering in the air and for a moment you thought the fire would pass through him like a ghost. But the impact was real. It struck his chest and clattered to the ground.

“W-what? Stay away from me or I will … I will–” You stammered, your mind racing. He wasn’t just a ghost, but a corpse. A jiangshi, a walking dead boy. Panicked, you glanced at the disturbed grave behind him, a confirmation that Suo Hayato had indeed risen from the dead.

But something was strange. His pale skin didn’t have any signs of decay, no silver hue like the stories warned, no moss clinging to his rotten flesh. He looked almost normal, almost alive. His brown hair hung loosely over his face, parted to one side and his singular eye or his living eye, watched you and made you feel the goosebumps. The other eye was covered by a leather eyepatch, which only gave you an unsettling feeling. A pair of yellow tassel earrings, with red gems like the rabbit’s eyes swung with his movements. And there was the black hat, a yellow talisman attached to it, though the paper was blank.

“Please, do not fear me,” he said, voice still sweet and calm despite the terror bubbling inside you. “You woke me up from my slumber for our wedding. My parents always wished for me to marry, but you see … “ His words trailed off as he lifted the talisman from his hat, his grin widening as if trying to comfort you. “I died before I could tell them who I truly wanted.”

You let out another scream, louder this time. The absurdity of his casual tone while he stood there, very much undead, with his smile flattering for a second and his single eye widening slightly because he had expected as much. You backed up until you were pressed against the cold stone of another gravestone. This couldn't be happening. He was dead, he should be dead, and yet here he was, speaking to you as this is just another day.

“I-I don’t want this! I don’t want to marry a dead man!” you shouted, your voice trembling as you struggled to keep your footing, knees weakening beneath you. All of a sudden, the weight of what was happening crushed you down. You didn’t want to die anymore. Not like this, not as some undead bride in a nightmare you hadn’t asked for.

The boy, Hayato, tilted his head, his smile now almost sorrowful. “I am not here to harm you. I was brought back for this, to fulfill my parents’ wishes.” you caught a glimpse of the boy he might have been before death took him. “I can’t bear to see you afraid of me. I never wanted this either, but you were the one who took the red envelope my mother left.”

You paused, trying to steady your breath, eyes darting between his face and the talisman he held. The numerous stories of jiangshi that your grandmother told you—these creatures were said to drain the life force from the living, feeding on their energy until nothing remained. Was that why he was here? To suck away what little life you had left? To take you down into the grave with him?

“I won’t let you drain me,” you blurted out, your voice shaking but your defense rising despite the fair. “I’m not ready to die yet!”

Hayato’s eye widened, and then a deep sigh escaped his lips. He stepped closer, too close for your liking as you flinched. But instead of attacking, he let the yellow paper fall over his face again. “I am not here to drain you. I was raised … incomplete. Not fully dead, not fully alive,” he explained, lowering his gaze to meet yours. “I simply wanted to meet you.”

“But you are a jiangshi,” you whispered, blinking as your eyes were fixed on him as if watching for any sudden movement. 

“Yes,” he admitted, his smile fading completely now, replaced with sadness. “But I did not ask for this fate any more than you happened to be my bride.”

His words sank in, making you rethink everything. He was just a strange boy who stood between life and death. His pale face, his empty eye socket beneath the patch, the talisman that should have controlled him but didn’t—he was terrifying, yes, but also…trapped.

“Then what do you want from me?” you asked, and as much you wanted to run, to escape something kept you rooted in place.

Hayato hesitated, then looked up, meeting your gaze with that single eye of his. "I want what I was denied in life. A chance to choose for myself. And maybe..." He paused, and the tiniest hint of hope flickered in his gaze. "Maybe to experience love."

Your heart was still racing, unsure of whether you should trust him—or if you even had a choice at all.

“Just accept him already, young lady! I want to sleep when it's dead silence.” someone's female voice called but there was absolutely no one near you and you started to look around. "I'm down here, but you have time until you join us."  The woman's voice came from leaning against her tombstone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, ma’am." Your breath hitched, and your gaze landed on a nearby tombstone. The name etched into the stone was worn, nearly faded, but still there. A woman’s ghostly form leaned casually against it, translucent and calm. You were talking to dead people now. Wonderful.

Just because you decided you'd be rich from a dumb envelope, and what did it turn out to be? You live between these two worlds as much as your husband. "Ah, the boy of the Suo family. They finally found you a bride."

This time it was a deep male voice as you both looked in that direction. It was coming from a tall, ghostly figure standing just behind another tombstone. "Good choice! I know the women in her family are unearthly beautiful!” You didn't know how to take that, a compliment you'd never received before. Hayato looked at you while you were still looking down at the ground, the moon illuminating everything above you.

His eye filled with something like... affection. He waited patiently for your response because it wasn’t easy to just accept a marriage proposal, a ghost one at that.

The dead were already speaking to you as if you were one of them, and perhaps you were—caught between their world and the one you had known your whole life. Maybe you didn’t want to die, but living in this strange in-between place was better than being cast aside by the living. You took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

"I... I accept," you whispered, almost to yourself, then met Hayato's gaze. "But I need to go home first." He smiled, the kind of soft smile that made you forget for a moment that he was no longer alive. "Of course. I will wait for you."

You turned, leaving the graveyard behind, though the voices of the dead still whispered in your ears, their conversations muffled by the distance. The walk home was quieter than before, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching from the shadows, but you knew that the light would appear again.

A week passed when you gathered courage and told your parents everything. You showed the envelope, explaining what had happened—how the Suo family had chosen you, how you had unknowingly accepted the fate of being a ghost bride, and how his spirit had come back to claim you. By not telling them, however, that your husband is somehow alive. You expected anger, disbelief, or perhaps even outrage. But instead, your parents stood in silence.

Your mother was the first to break the stillness. She took your hands in hers, her grip trembling slightly, but a small smile appeared on her face. "You... you will be married?" she whispered as if daring to hope this strange, supernatural fate might finally be your salvation.

Your father, though pale with shock, slowly nodded. "This is... unexpected," he muttered. "But if it means you will be safe, and the Suo family is satisfied, then this is for the best."

Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door. Your mother rushed to answer it, and there they were, the Suo family—Hayato’s parents. His mother, a graceful woman draped in mourning clothes, approached you with a smile that held both grief and relief.

"You have given my son peace," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "For so long, his spirit was restless. He didn’t even tell us who he wanted to marry. But now, he has found his bride, and he can be at peace. Our family is forever grateful."

Feeling as if you were floating between two realities—the living and the dead, bound by an agreement you hadn’t fully understood. But now, there was no turning back. This was your life now. This was real. It wasn’t some bad dream. You were truly a bride—if only to a ghost. Or rather, what remained of it.

The dress your mother finished sewing would be wrapped around your body soon. At least that's what you heard from the conversation of the adults in the great dining room. How did it all happen so fast? You could believe that Hayato told his mother in her dream. You could talk to the spirits of dead people after all.

You were walking in the big yard of your house when you heard a light tapping, small and gentle steps and in the middle of the garden was the white bunny from yesterday and immediately rushed towards the animal. It started running and you followed. Why does this rabbit appear out of nowhere? Are the gods giving you a sign to escape your fate as a normal human? Most probably, yes.

It stopped in front of the family temple where you honored your ancestors but for some reason, you hadn't been here in a few weeks because you were always doing work around and outside the house. You saw the rabbit jump up the steps and stand in the center of the temple, surrounded by tombstones but it hopped in front of your grandmother’s stone. Asking her for help won't hurt, you missed being here, finding peace in this beautiful place especially since your grandma never judged you.

Lighting the candles and incense, you kneel down, hoping for guidance from your ancestors. Please, if you can hear me. I need your help and advice. I need to know what's the best thing to do. You stood there holding your hands in an attempt to get an answer. You could see and talk to the dead, and that must include your family too. Suddenly the heat from the candle went out and you snapped your eyes open to see several of the stones with their names begin to glow and the rabbit was still sitting in front of your grandmother's table stone.

Images appeared from the blue glow, rather the spirits of your ancestors as they sat over their stones, and you looked to the one of your grandmother's, and as a finale, her spirit appeared last, and the white bunny jumped into your lap.

“So this is our ghost bride? She is too beautiful to be buried alive.” a woman called out, and you believe this is your grandmother who lived 120 years ago, as she waved a fan in front of her face. “A ghost bride? She took that from you.” Next to her was a man, dressed in warrior armor as his arms were crossed like he was judging you.

“Said the man who denied getting married because he was already married to the war.” waving her fan slowly but you could still catch her sly smile in a teasing tone before the warrior opened his mouth and someone cut him off.

“A wedding is a wedding. Don't fight over the happiness of someone so young, either.” you knew that voice as you looked at the spirit next to your grandmother it was your grandfather. Your eyes watered when you saw them again. Hugging the bunny with one hand, you got up, and with the other, you tried to touch them, but failed. They were just ghosts, they weren't like Hayato because their debts and wishes had been fulfilled. “My sweet child, I wish I could hug you as well.” 

You wanted to ask how you could even see them, but that was a stupid question from the person who was about to marry a dead man. Of course, you could see them because the moment you touched the envelope the physical and spiritual realm merged into one. 

“Grandma, why does this have to happen to me?” your voice trembled as the words spilled out, heavy with the confusion and heartache that had been building for days. Becoming a ghost bride... it wasn't something you could ever have imagined for yourself.

Your grandmother looked at you with that soft and reassuring smile. "Everything happens for a reason, my dear," she said, but did everything have to have a reason or was it another joke of fate? "The gods have chosen you, and so has the Moon goddess. You have everyone's blessing, even though you may not experience love the way you dreamed... I know, without a doubt, that the boy loves you deeply."

You stared at her, disbelief washing over you. "How do you even know if a dead boy can feel anything? His heart stopped... How could he possibly love?"

Your grandmother laughed at your innocence, the sound warm and comforting, like a lullaby from long ago. "You don't have to be alive to love. Love isn't confined by life or death. It’s a bond that exists between souls. The red thread that connects you two may be invisible, sometimes tangled, but it will always lead you to the right person, living or dead."

Her words settled into your heart, but still, a tear slipped down your cheek as you struggled with the weight of it all. As you wiped your eyes, you heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind you. The spirits of your family turned, their eyes full of knowing as they gazed toward the garden.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, your dead husband-to-be, wandering quietly through the garden, stepping into the light from the backyard’s small door.

"See now, my dear," your grandmother whispered, her voice lingering like an echo. "Love always finds a way."

You turned to speak to her again, but they were gone—the spirits of your family had vanished, leaving you alone in the garden. Without hesitation, you rushed towards Suo as the bunny stayed at the temple, your heart drawn to him in a way that defied all reason. Everything is happening too fast to be true.

Anger. Confusion. Fear. His presence in the garden felt too sudden. And yet, there he was, standing under the bright daylight with that same eye smile you remembered from the last time you saw him, but now you can see him more clearly.

"My beloved, I have wondered to whe—"

"Are you crazy?" you hissed, cutting him off with a whisper-yell as you looked around anxiously. "You can't just show up out of nowhere! What if my—no, your parents see you?"

Your heart was racing now, not just from the shock of his sudden appearance, but from the fear of what would happen if someone else saw him too. Suo’s presence, while comforting to you, was a ghostly impossibility to the living. People would panic, or worse, think you'd lost your mind.

He, however, seemed completely unfazed by your panic. His gaze was soft, patient even, as if he had expected this reaction. Slowly, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours with a strange warmth that startled you. The sudden contact made you tense up, your breath catching in your throat. 

"Only you can see me, my love," he said quietly, his voice gentle as you blinked, processing his words. Only you can see me. It made sense now, why the spirits of your ancestors had appeared without anyone else knowing, why Suo could walk into the garden without causing a stir. But still, the way the words "my love" slipped from his mouth—it felt both sweet and unnerving.

You gulped, suddenly unsure of how to respond. "My love?" It was all you could manage to say, trying to reconcile the person before you with the man you were supposed to marry in death.

Suo’s smile didn’t waver. It softened, his gaze steady as if there was no question in his mind. "Yes," he said simply. "You are my love. You have always been."

The conviction in his voice made your chest tighten. You wanted to protest, to ask how he could say such a thing when your relationship had never truly begun, but the truth was undeniable—he had come back for you. Whether by fate or the pull of the spirit realm, you were bound to him, and he to you.

And for the first time since all of this began, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved or afraid.

Suo’s hands held yours gently, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles in a way that made your heart race. His touch was warm, so real, despite everything about this moment feeling so impossible. You searched his eyes for answers, trying to make sense of the emotions and memories, but nothing came.

He noticed your confusion, and his smile faltered slightly, but only for a moment. "I know you probably don't remember me," he began softly, his voice laced with a bittersweetness, "since you moved houses."

He paused, glancing down for a second as though gathering his courage before meeting your eyes again. "But we used to play together as kids. You were the wife, I was the husband... and my dog was our child." He chuckled softly at the memory, but you could hear the longing hidden by the humor.

Your breath hitched as scenes of long-forgotten memories began to appear. The boy... the boy you used to play with every day, laughing under the summer sun, pretending to be grown-ups before life pulled you apart. You had moved after a terrible storm destroyed your home, making you move out to your sister's home for a while and your own house had been renovated during that time. It was chaotic, and in the midst of it, the boy who once filled your days with laughter had simply faded into the background of your life.

"I..." You shook your head, confusion washing over you. "You were the one who gave me a lantern with a special message inside when we were kids?" 

Suo nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "After you moved out, I was desperate to find you. I did, but you never spared me a glance. You were always so busy with chores, with life... and I was just a boy standing on the sidelines, watching."

His hands tightened around yours as he gently pulled you closer. "But apparently, I couldn’t stop thinking about you... even in the afterlife."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his confession sinking in. All this time, he had been holding onto memories of you, even as death claimed him. His wish, left unfulfilled in life, had somehow bound you two together in the strangest, most unexpected way.

He glanced at your family temple, where the spirits of your loved ones seemed to smile warmly at him. Even the white bunny was jumping around as if in celebration, as though the universe itself had conspired to reunite you two.

“So please give me a chance. I promise you that in the next life, whichever one of our many to come…I will always find you and love you.” you could feel it, you could see it, that he is really into you. Despite his interest in you all this time, it was strange to you that someone liked you, he saw you as more than the girl who did the dirty work of her parents.

But was it as easy as it sounded? To love him the way he loves you. In a week you had already seen it all and knew that there is no way to escape fate no matter what you do, no matter what life you live because what is written for you will happen unless you want to write your own story.

The boy you had left behind when life pulled you away. Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that,  you had always been connected despite the years and the distance.

"I remember you now," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "You were always there... and I forgot." A pang of guilt struck you, but Suo’s gentle smile reassured you that you hadn't done anything wrong.

"You didn’t forget," he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. "Life just happened. But we were always meant to find each other again.”

The idea of destiny suddenly feels more real than ever before. It was as if fate had tied this entire journey tightly, leading you back to him—even in death. You couldn't deny it anymore. You were bound to him, not just by circumstance, but by something deeper that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to unfold like the lantern lights during a festival.

Suo leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your skin. “Can I?” He asked but your heart raced, your hands trembling as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, as you couldn’t tell him yes. It was a kiss that felt like a promise, one that sealed the connection between your two worlds, between your souls. In that tender moment, everything seemed to make sense, and the talisman on Suo's hat glowed faintly, the word "爱" (love) appearing under the bright sun with that striking crimson color.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your face was burning as you couldn’t see but were sure that you were redder than the color red. "I can’t believe my first kiss was with a zombie," you said, still holding onto his hands.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. How that was even possible when his blood circulation should have been stopped, you didn’t know—after all, he wasn’t technically alive but you found yourself not caring anymore. Why should you care when the person in front of you really loves you and proves it? It was him. That was all that mattered.

"Well," he said, smiling down at you and squeezing your hands "here I am, having my first kiss with a living person." You both laughed, hands intertwined, surrounded by the quiet serenity of the garden. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to marry someone like him, it would be more interesting, especially since you have to balance two worlds now. You had nothing to lose, but you wanted to spend more time alone with him, to remember the boy who was once a part of your life and now will be with you forever.

Remember the dead even when they appear for you with a marriage proposal. Because there is something to see and hear, but mostly to feel. And he felt too alive when you started running towards the exit of the garden as he looked back to see the spirits of your family cheering and dancing with joy and your grandmother looked at him with that warm smile she only showed to you. Suo would be curious how his family would react if they too would hold a banquet in the world of the dead because…

“You are a blessing to my family.”

WEIRDMAGEDDON VICTIMS :: @maruflix @heartkaji @17020 @stunies @y2kuromi @seneon @littleplantfreak @meidiary and special thanks to @kiurona for suggesting the idea and working with me and @nyxypoo for doing a beat read

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 1.

You feel like you're floating. Gliding.

Your mirror glows, beckoning you forth.

"What is this?" You climb out of bed and take step after step, it's like walking on something soft yet hard, instead of the splintery hardwood. The mirror glows brighter with each step, and it ripples when you stop directly in front of it. A part of you feels compelled to touch it.

So you do, like an enormous idiot.

As soon as your fingers press against the cool glass, you're rocketed forward through a bright light.

Your body hits grass. Soft grass. You stand up, looking down to see grey grass.

The world you landed in was completely black, white and grey. And at the same time, it looks like a fantasy land straight from a storybook. Around you are rose bushes, comically large all a pale colour if the pale white is to be believed.

Behind you is the mirror, showing your bedroom still coloured the way it normally is and just as you left it.

"H-Hello?" A handful of- Card Soldiers? rush pass you. All holding paint buckets full of red paint and paint brushes. The paint is the only colour you can see. They didn't see you.

<Hurry up and paint the roses red!>

<Slather them quickly, as aforesaid!>

They sing as they quickly paint all the white roses red.

"They're...painting the roses?"

Someone nudges your arm.<Miss, why are they painting the roses?>

You whip your head to your side. A girl, black and white, like the world around you. Her light coloured hair is tied up with a black ribbon. And she's wearing a light coloured dress with black and white stockings.

You point to yourself, "You can see me?"

<Of course. In fact, you're the most normal thing I've seen here.> Her voice is far away, like an old movie. You open your mouth to answer, but the girl wanders off, walking up to the card soldiers. <Why are you painting these white roses red?>

<Huh?>

<Why, you ask? Well it's simple...>

<The Queen likes her roses red. If they're white, we'll lose our heads!>

The cards sing.

This is Alice in Wonderland. You know this tale. A lost little girl falls into a world of absurdity, only to find out it was all a dream.

You wish your wonderland was just a dream.

<Goodness!>

<And so, we're painting the roses red>

But why was the mirror showing you this? Why was-

The sound of thunderous knocks echo through the dream world, it ripples and you're back in Ramshackle.

"I swear I was asleep in my dorm a second ago. How did-"

The world ripples harder, faster as the knocks increase in volume.

The world distorts and goes black.

Your eyes open. "Is someone at the door?" You whisper. Grim squirms in your arms, irritated by the noise.

"Mmm-....human? What's that noise..?"

The knocks are loud. So very loud.

"I think....someone's at the door." Your heart pluses with adrenaline. It's only been a week, how could someone try to stake their claim on you so quickly?!

"Is it one of those pesky ghosts again?! Why can't they just give up?!" Grim whines, burrowing himself into your sheets.

You snatch the knife on your bedside. You're not dumb enough to go back to sleep, you're risking something happening while you sleep, so you'll do the other dumb thing, go to the door, armed with a blade to a magic fight. Someone is trying to stake their 'claim'. But you're not going down without a fight.

Careful, you slip out of bed, avoiding some of the more creaky floorboards. You tip-toe over to the wall, separating you and the hallway. You lift on of the sheets to reveal one of the holes to the hallway, and it's thankfully empty.

So they're at the door, leading outside, in the dark, when the only other people here are ghosts and a sleepy magic cat.

"Henchman, go back to sleep," Grim whines. "The blankets are all cold now..."

"Grim, can you come with me to check it out." When you get no response, you change your angle, "It might be a foe for the Great Grim to vanquish?", still no response.

You sigh, as the knocks start up again. "Grim, do you want to sleep in my room tomorrow night?"

Grim pokes his head out of his blanket cocoon, "Three nights."

"Two."

"Henchman, you are demanding the Great Grim's help. You can't bribe me." You give him a look, he huffs," Two nights, it is." Grim sits himself on your shoulders. "Let's get rid of the intruder so we can go back to bed!"

You drag the dining chair away from the door handle, and the hallway is still as dark as you left it. The knocks get more erratic. You gulp down a deep breath, as you enter the entry hall.

"W-Who is it?" You call out, knife at the ready in both hands, just in case.

"It's me, Ace! Just let me in, all right!" Of course it's Ace. Still with what you learned yesterday, your guards not down yet.

"Ace, it's the middle of the night! Why are you here?" You speak through the door.

"Hey! Calm down, I'm not here to kidnap you or anything..." You freeze at the kidnapping mention. You swallow. Well, now he's gotten you into a bind. If you hesitate any longer, he might get suspicious.

You slide the knife into your pants waist band and cover it with your shirt. You hope it doesn't nick.

You unlock the door and, "What the hell are you wearing?!"

"Bwah! That collar!" Grim doubles over on the floor laughing, at the sight of the heart shaped collar around Ace's neck. And the fear you felt earlier is being replaced with giggles bubbling in your throat.

"I can't go back to Heartslabyul House." Ace grumbles, as you finally let out your laughs.

You smother your laughter long enough to talk, "W-Why? Did they laugh you out for wearing that?"

Ace's frown deepens, "I'm joining your dorm. For good." Wait, what?

"Myah! Come again!?"

Ace repeats himself, "I'm joining your dorm. And I'm never going back to Heartslabyul again!"

Cold sweat erupts on your skin. "Wait. You're not serious, right?" He pushes past you into the entry hall. Turning to give you a cheeky smile.

"Completely serious." he slings an arm over your shoulders, "What do you think _____, wanna make me your Vice Dorm Head?"

No. Really, NO. Having a yandere in your house where you sleep sounds like you're asking for trouble.

"A-Ace, you can't stay here!" You immediately regret how upset you sounded. Especially with how Ace's mischievous grin vanished as soon as you said those words.

"Huh? Why?"

Because he's a yandere, and you're a 'darling', or more specifically, 'his darling'. It's common sense.

Instead, you change tact. "Look, why don't we just talk about what happened," You scoop up Grim, and lock the front door. "Come on. Let's go to the living room."

"You're an idiot, Ace." You say, facepalming.

"Hey!"

"If you ate my tuna, I would be pretty mad too."

"Still, locking off my magic is insane for eating a ONE slice of tart!"

"Yeah, it is." But it puts him on your level, magicless, powerless. "But-" "He might as well have cut off my arms and legs. What kind of jerk cuts mage off of his magic?!"

"Ac-"

"I mean, it's not like he could eat all THREE of those tarts to himself."

"ACE!" You yell as you cup his face in your hands and he calms down immediately. His eyes light up as he looks at you, with that same sparkle you saw in the halls earlier. Shit...

You let him go as you take a few steps back, to distance yourself from the man obsessed with you. Who's probably obsessed with controlling you too. He's still staring, and you drop you hand to where the handle of the knife rests on your stomach.

Grim speaks up, "Y'know if there were three of 'em, they probably were for a birthday party."

"A birthday party, huh?" Ace thinks aloud, his eyes still locked on you. You can feel his stare going into the walls behind you.

"Did you even apologise?" And he snaps out of his staring daze.

"Hey _____, I thought you would be a lil more sympathetic. I'm a victim here!" That look in his eyes darkens slightly. It's scary as if he's mad that you're.....not........defending him. Double shit.

You backpedal, "He....may have been a tad extreme." "But he stole food, that's not ok!" Grim objects. Damn it, Grim. Try to keep your henchman free, ok?

"Stealing food is a serious offense." you say, reluctantly.

"Aw, man you got to be kidding me." Ace complains.

"But if you apologise, he might forgive you." That look feels darker now. Maybe, you can just......"Ace, I'm your friend. I want to help you." You reach to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. The light brightens, "Just let me help."

"All right, all right...I'll apologise." Cool, all well that ends well, now all you have to do is get him out of your dorm and then all is well and good.

"But you're coming with me, _____" Damn it. Now you have to go with Ace to the controlling dorm, full of psycho control freaks, one of which is a dorm leader that cuts off magic for eating a tart. Great.

"Fair enough." You lie.

"By the way, do you have anywhere where I can crash tonight?"

"You were serious about that? Outside of the room, me and _____ use, this entire dump is buried under a foot of dust. So if you wanna crash you better start cleanin." Oh no.....Please don't ask to stay in my room, please don't ask to stay in my room, please do not ask to stay in my room.

"Dude, no way. I hate cleaning!" Don't say it. Don't say it.

"C'mon _____ Lemme stay with you, I'm real slim. I won't take up much space~" God dammit. That look in his eyes come back, as he pulls you closer. Too close.

Now what are you going to do? That look is back and you don't like seeing it darken. If you say no, he might get mad. If you say yes, you'll be sleeping with a yandere who might do seven-only-knows to you!

Grim runs in between you, separating you from Ace's piercing gaze. "No! Henchman promised to let me stay in her bed tonight!" Ace deflates, backing down. Thank you Grim I owe you some extra tuna-y tuna.

Wait a second. He's giving Grim a dark look. Is it jealousy or something?

You let go of Ace's hand and tightly embrace Grim, "You can sleep on the couch tonight. I'll get you a pillow and blanket."

You get the hell out as fast and inconspicuously as possibly. You yank open the topmost comforter and pillow from the linen closet, run back and toss it to Ace as fast as you can. Before you can disappear into the hallway back to the maybe safety of your room, "Hey ______?" You freeze.

"Yes? You turn and try to smile, but you can feel the muscles in your lips beg you to frown.

You swallow a whimper as he advances toward you. Too close, too close. "Good night."

"Good night, Ace." You turn back and.

....Soft lips on your forehead. He's kissing you good night.

It's been a week. One week was all it took. He fell for you in one week.

"S-see you tomorrow..." You say, dumbstruck.

You. are. doomed.

[natailiatulls07]

Radio Moments

Formula one grid & driver!young!reader

Summary - A compilation of the young drivers radio moments on track

Warning - Jake Gyllenhaal is mentioned, apart from that nothing really

Reader drives for RedBull

-

"Radio check please." Hughs, Y/n's current race engineer, voice came through the young adults earpiece.

"Have you heard that Taylor Swift is releasing speak now taylors version in five days?!" Y/n had been known by everyone who knew her to be a totally swifty, so it didn't surprise Hugh and the rest of her technical crew as she had been no stop talking about the albums release.

"Thank you and yes I have heard about that... from you" The engineer let out a small chuckle at the girls antics.

"Oh...well atleast you know for sure this time"

-

Austria - 02 July

"Hugh, my man! I am pretty bored here without any music or anyone to talk to so... what did you have for the most important meal of the day, breakfast?" Curiousity was one of many things you could describe Y/n as, for sure.

"You're not gonna like me for this but I had toast with butter. What did you have for breakfast Y/n?" Hugh answered the drivers question to satisfy her curiousity.

"Well I had some nutella on toast with some cut up strawberries, it was fu***** delicious! you should try it some time" There was a pause. "Sh** I fancy some now, you reckon I can get some after this?" Always snacking was another thing the media had pick up on the 19 year old, she could never eat a fully plate of food without a few breaks.

"Maybe, we'll see. Be careful Norris is approaching your left rear." Upon hearing about the presence of the British McLaren driver, Y/n soon abandoned the breakfast conversation in order to focus on staying ahead of the 23 year old male.

-

Great Britain - 09 July

"This is me praying that! This was the very first page, not where the storyline ends, my thoughts will echo your name, Until I see you again! Oh hey excuse Russell overtook me aw come on!" Her little concert was cut short by the Mercedes overtaking her on track.

"But I was paying my respects to mother Taylor and he ruined it. He is just like a certain Jake!" Hugh refused to even reply to the girl annoyed complaints.

It was a few days after the British race when the formula one tiktok released this clip, which soon went viral among swifties. It was only noticed by the driver when she posted on instagram.

yourusername

On and off track ❤️

Liked by carlossainz55 and 860,378 others

username I was enchanted to met you!!

username Ignore Russell, he is definitely a Jake Gyllenhaal

= georgerussell63 You know that I am definitely a swiftie, definitely wouldn't treat a women like he did!!

= yourusername This is why we love you Georgie!! ❤️

-

[ravenna-reid]

CRIMSON RED

Jason Todd x Pain Inflictor Reader

TW: nothing crazy, just swearing and mentions of violence

˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖

All they called you was Crimson.

Maybe because of your signature lipstick and that lace that was always in your hair.

Or maybe because of the blood you drew out of your targets without so much as raising a finger.

A telekinetic pain inflictor. The worst kind of metahuman.

But Red Hood had no reason to worry about you just yet. You tended to keep a low profile and there were bigger fish to fry. And if he was being honest, the sound of you and your abilities were kind of terrifying.

Jason's little mission all went wrong though, given his intel was missing key information. Now he was bound to a chair in a warehouse with a dripping roof. And that dripping eerily echoed as he sat and waited. Desperately keeping his fears and demons at bay.

Being tied to a chair. The looming threat of torture. It all hit a little too close to home.

Two-Face eventually sauntered into view, the rest of the warehouse behind and beside him concealed in shadows. Jason had to grimace every time he saw his face.

"You ugly bastard." Jason retorted, masking his fear with snarky insults and sarcasm. "Gotten work done recently?" He nodded towards Harvey's face with his head.

"Son of a bitch." Two-Face's face contorted with rage. "I would watch my mouth if I were you. You're finally gonna die tonight, and this time you won't be coming back."

Jason swallowed hard, pissed off that he didn't have his helmet to hide the fear-inducing anticipation on his pale face.

"But we'll let the coin decide how this is gonna play out."

So Harvey went on with his odd ritual and flipped his coin. It landed on the tarnish side, and Jason had no idea what that meant. Suddenly, Two-Face was calling out to someone behind him. Someone hidden deep within the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Jason waited and waited, sweat dripping down the side of his face.

He expected a gruesome looking thug or some other high profile villain. Maybe Penguin, or even Harley.

The sound of heeled boots slowly echoed through out his bleak surroundings, accompanied by a laugh like velvet. You soon came into view.

Crimson mask concealing the top half of your face, the colour matching that string of lace that sat comfortably in your hair. Your usual deep red outfit hugged your body, similar to Catwoman's except for the fact that it wasn't a whole bodysuit. And of course, your stark, scarlet lips were contorted into a sinister smile.

He'd seen you around. But seeing you this close in person was a different story. Jason's breath hitched once you were right in front of him. Truthfully, he never intended to meet you. And now it was so much worse given you would be the one torturing him tonight.

Fuck this mission really went south.

"Here, the coin says you get to toy with him tonight." Two-Face said with a dismissive wave of his hand and scoff as he turned his back. "I have a deal I need to be making soon."

Jason watched as he left, muscles stiff with frustration and venom in his eyes. This was the deal Jason was supposed to be preventing.

As Jason's eyes lingered on Two-Face, your eyes were focused on him. His ivory skin and deep, jet black hair. The aggravated expression painted across his face. That muscular figure.

And that odd looking J scar on the side of his face.

"Red Hood..." Your voice lingered and shivers suddenly went down Jason's arms. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Can't say I feel the same way." He responded harshly, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to devise an escape plan. Which would, most likely, be futile and stupid.

"Mmm, mean. It's not like you're a saint Red." You calmly pointed out, voice smooth like wine.

And then he looked up at you. "Oh, really? You're one to talk? Ms snaps someones bones and crushes their lungs with a blink of an eye."

Finally making contact, you saw the confliction swirling in those eyes, and for some odd reason something tightened your throat.

Jason didn't miss the subtle furrow of your brows as you neared him. Slowly circling him like a predator.

"Deciding what bone you're going to break first?"

You scoffed, but it was more like a laugh. As you walked behind Jason he began to feel his skin crawl, his heart beat faster. He wished you were standing in front of him again. Staring down at him the way you were.

As you went around him, you noticed the back of his shirt was slightly tugged down, revealing slithers of iridescent scars. Many, many scars.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, but you remained silent until you faced him again. And this time all you did was stare back at him, mind deep in thought. Something stirred deep in your chest. Regret? Sympathy?

"You're just a kid." The words left your mouth in a gentle whisper as you realised he was probably no older than you.

So no, he wasn't a kid. But he wasn't old enough to have his body broken by you. Sure, you butchered people with your mind all the time. But they were criminals. Enemies. Scum. They always had it coming. But him? Red Hood?

You just couldn't do it. It was ridiculous, you knew that. But you couldn't. You wondered where Two-Face was and how he'd react to your odd decision. But hell, you didn't care about ignoring Two-Face's order. Rules and regulations never stopped you before, and what was he going to do?

Jason initially wanted to get even more mad about that statement. Insulted that you just called him a boy when he was in his 20's. But he kept to himself, continuing to watch you closely.

"So what are you gonna do now huh? Cause this game is getting a little boring Crimson."

His attitude made you smirk a little. You suddenly slipped a red-blade dagger from your belt. Jason frowned, wondering why you wouldn't just use you powers, when you cut the zip ties and rope keeping him bound.

Now he was glancing up at you, eyes wide with confusion and suspicion.

"You gonna go or did you actually want me to hurt you?" You asked, brows raised. But already knowing the answer, you were turning to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" He sounded like he was accusing you of something. You turned to look back over your shoulder.

The sympathy was back, but also a few other feelings. Butterflies in your stomach and what not. Shit he was handsome.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're kinda cute."

He scoffed before grabbing his helmet from the floor. "Spare me."

Suddenly a sharp pain began in his knees before they turned into brittle leaves. He dropped down onto them and stayed there as the pain began to subside. Then he shot a glare up at you. You were already standing before Jason and looking down at him, that smug smile on your pretty face.

"Mm," You hummed, eyes dancing across his features as you took him in. "Very cute."

Then you turned to leave, and Jason was left blushing and speechless.

Part 2

˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖

[bonefall]

I know you talked about Crowfeather's abuse to Breezepelt, but are you keeping Nightcloud's physical abuse against Crowfeather? In all their arguments, Nightcloud is the only one who ever gets physical with Crow. In the books, she rakes her claws against him a few times drawing blood. If I had been young Breeze and had seen that it'd be one of the things that would make me do my best to be and stay in my mother's good graces. Yeah, my dad may smack me but he never cuts me, never leaves me open for death by infection.

When?

Have you read the books you're confidently citing right now? Or did you hear this from some amoeba and then didn't check it before coming into my house

POWER OF THREE:

The Sight: 13 mentions. Takes Breezepaw's side in a small verbal argument, then scolds him for xenophobia. Is scared her only child almost died and insists on carrying him alone. Upset when Leafpool makes a flirtatious comment to her husband, soothes two kids to sleep

Dark River: 4 mentions. Exists on a patrol and Leafpool is jealous of her.

Outcast: 1 mention. Nicely says goodbye to Crowfeather as he stares off into the distance thinking about Feathertail.

Eclipse: 1 mention. Takes part in the eclipse battle with the rest of WindClan.

Long Shadows: Unmentioned.

Sunrise: 4 mentions. Hears the reveal at the gathering and looks "bewildered and angry." Crowfeather tells her that he, "Has no kits other than Breezepelt" and she pins her ears against her head.

Was it here? In one of these 23 mentions across 6 books? PLEASE point out the "Cuts Me, Leaving Me Open For Death By Infection." I'm SO curious.

OMEN OF THE STARS:

The Fourth Apprentice: Unmentioned.

Fading Echoes: 1 mention. Thinks Dovepaw disguised her scent.

Night Whispers: 6 mentions. Argues with Crowfeather at Gatherings. Leafpool comes across a fight between Breezepelt and Lionblaze and pleads to Crowfeather, "How can you watch your sons fight?!" Nightcloud jumps forward glaring, repeats that her husband has no kits other than Breezepelt. Leafpool jumps in front of a Breezepelt lunge. Crowfeather jumps in, grabs his son, and "throws him aside like prey" before bitterly mocking another love confession from Leafpool. Nightcloud drags Crowfeather off. Crowfeather turns on Nightcloud, hissing, and Breezepelt jumps between them and says, "leave my mother alone." Warns them, "Next time, we'll shred you!" Later says something rude about RiverClan at a Gathering.

Sign of the Moon: Unmentioned.

The Forgotten Warrior: 2 mentions. Glares at Hollyleaf twice.

The Last Hope: 6 mentions. Is on a patrol that finds Jayfeather in a thornbush and glares at him. Then Crowfeather says it was all actually HER fault that Breezepelt turned out to be such a little brat.

Which one of these 9 MENTIONS ACROSS 6 BOOKS are we going for, today? Was it the part in Night Whispers? Is THAT where she Cuts His Life Into Pieces This Is Her Last Resort?

Let's play I-Spy 🔎! Highlight all the places Nightcloud "draws blood!"

Which of the following characters in this passage are bleeding? Is Crowfeather any of them 🤔? No?

Is it here? Is it this part? Which of these cats are bleeding? Is it Crowfeather🪶? Is it Lionblaze🦁? Is it beloved Character Actress Margot Martindale💃?

Oh? You mean to tell me that you were misrepresenting a cat dragging away another cat as "RAKING HER CLAWS AGAINST HIM DRAWING BLOOD AND LEAVING HIM OPEN FOR INFECTIONS TO DIE"?

In other words, a lie?

Pulling a big lever and sending you down into The Nightcloud Derangement Pit. I will be further woobifying her unencumbered. The Nightcloud Agenda will spread. Soon we will take the west coast.

[lucysarah-c]

—

A little sneak peak from the Arranged marriage Omegaverse Alpha! Levi x Omega! Reader fic I've been working on!

Let me know what you think as I had been writing some chapters and so far this is one of my favourite scenes.

—

The pressure that his fingers applied to the bridge of his nose was so strong that the pain of it overcame the migraine. Strong footsteps echoed in the corridors as cadets moved aside to make way. Since the Scouts were almost wiped out, more and more people had been joining their ranks, and Levi was not enjoying the crowded halls.

"The day I decide to call all this shit off, I'd like to see them surviving without me," Levi thought, clenching his teeth. The stress was taking a toll on him lately. The military was expanding so much, particularly the Scouts, and they simply lacked soldiers in higher positions to handle everything from mundane tasks like organizing lines to making highly important decisions regarding the Marley issue.

Swinging the door of his chambers open, his eyes fell on her. She was looking out of the window, book in hand and cat on lap, dying of boredom as if she were either waiting for rescue or for her death. His grimace was a mix of empathy and annoyance. He had insisted at least five times that she could help in the kitchen, sew uniforms, or work in the laundry room. All his proposals had fallen on deaf ears. Yes, he pitied her, closed up in his office all day and night with nothing better to do. But her privileged upbringing, which made her repulse the idea of helping with anything related to housework, rubbed him the wrong way.

And the horrendous day he was having, having to listen to all of Zeke’s demands from the other side of the damn world, was simply not helping. Slamming the door shut made her turn and look at him.

"Pack your stuff, we're moving," he spat out, already moving to his room to gather the few belongings he actually had. He threw the black trousers of his uniform out of the drawers onto the bed to pack them, regretting the decision as soon as he saw his immaculate, perfectly washed trousers covered in cat hair.

"Moving? Moving where?" Y/N jumped from her place at the window and followed him, excited. Her eyes shone brightly, feeling her prayers had been answered.

Eyes shut as tight as his clenched teeth, he took a deep breath in and out. He was fond of animals, and the white Persian cat was lovely, but the fur was something he wasn’t getting used to easily, and it just added to his day.

"Where are we moving?" she insisted, not sensing his lack of patience. "Are we finally moving to the Capital facility?"

Levi, trying to find any remaining good mood inside him, turned to his side and raised an eyebrow. "No," he said, "To the south."

The excitement dropped substantially, and she frowned at him. "We ARE in the south."

That made Levi quickly realize this was not going to be a quick and easy conversation. "No, we are in Wall Rose."

"I'm not moving to Shiganshina," she said, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together, and her voice raising.

Levi sighed as he folded one uniform. "Lucky for you," he said, each word dripping with his remaining patience, "we're not going there."

"Then… where?"

Levi knew he should have delivered the news more gently, but he had no time to spare and no energy left to deal with her lately. "South, we're setting up a camp next to the coast. Construction has already taken place, so we'll have a room. Pack your stuff; we're leaving by horse to arrive sooner and organize everything. The luggage will be taken by carts that will probably take a week to reach."

"What?—NO!" she quickly complained, her voice filled more with tears than anger. "I don't want to go to the end of the shitty world!"

"The soldiers from Marley are already arriving, and we need to be there to make sure everything evolves as planned—"

"Aren't you listening to me?!" She screamed loudly enough for Levi to close his eyes at how it reverberated in his ears, only fueling his headache. "I'm NOT moving there. We will be in the middle of nowhere; there’s no communication with the walls. I want to be closer to my friends and family, not there."

The air began to fill with her scent, demanding she wasn’t submitting. Challenging him, and Levi felt how each breath he took through his nose was tinged with it. He had no good temper left, and her insistence on asserting dominance was the final straw. Her even daring to assert dominance over him. Her, the omega the government had saddled him with.

Turning to his right, his piercing eyes locked onto her. "Don’t," Levi ordered, his own pheromones mixing with hers and warning her. The stare of a high-breed alpha, his own body warning her that fighting with him was a bad idea. Maybe it was because he had been hearing demands from Marley soldiers and allies all day long, people challenging his authority. But Levi wasn’t going to allow an omega to step on his dominance. He had been, in his opinion, more than good and patient with her—probably more than any other alpha would have been. He wasn’t one to use his stare to force omegas to do what he wanted, but he was having none of it.

Lips trembling, fists clenching, deep frown, and her eyes struggling to keep eye contact. Fighting against her own biology, she could feel how each fiber of her body trembled in trying to maintain the resistance. Eventually, she couldn’t keep it up and looked to the side, breaking the stare and lowering her head in submission.

A long sigh left his nose as his demand withdrew once she ceased the claim. “Pack your stuff,” he ordered, lowering his voice sensing that the rebellion was over.

But it hardly was. “I’m not going. I’ll move in with my parents. I’m not going to some rotten, muddy camp in the middle of nowhere.”

Levi shook his head. “You’re coming because that’s the arrangement between your parents and the military board. So pack, and that's the end of the deal.”

“No! I don’t want to go, I’m not going to pack!”

“NO! NO! NO! NO!”

Her complaints echoed in his head as the headache pounded against his skull, his teeth clenching so hard he was even showing them. “ENOUGH!” His hand slammed against the drawer, the loudness of it ceasing all noise. The room fell silent, and the scared cat ran to hide under the bed.

Levi finally turned to fully face her. “We are going to do this whether you like it or not,” his voice harsh and leaving no room for interruptions. “It can be the easy way or the hard way.”

Raising his hand in the air, showing three fingers. “I have a meeting, and in three hours I’ll come back and pick you up. Either you pack and get ready for when I return, or you don’t pack and not only will you be in a shitty, muddy camp at the end of the world stuck with me, but you’ll do it without any of your fancy stuff. And I warn you, there are no stores there.”

As he left the room with the same urgency he came in, he said, “You choose!”

But as the door was slamming shut, a cadet interrupted him. “Ehm… Captain?” The tremble in the kid’s voice indicated he sensed the environment was not conducive to another demand. “Commander Hange needs a signature?”

“Fuck off!”

[synamartia]

[ Featured Artwork © lustylita ] ❀ [ Featured Divider © cafekitsune ]

[ Story © synamartia ] ❀ [ Text Banner created via Text Studio ]

Content Warnings: Alastor x Reader ; Afab!Reader ; No pronouns or Y/N used ; Use of gendered pet names like "good/dirty girl" ; Explicit / MDNI / 18+ ; Sexual situations ; Sex pollen tripe (Love Potion) ; Hematolagnia (blood play) ; Biting ; Dom!Alastor ; Face-sitting ; Dirty talk ; Unprotected sex ; Vaginal penetration ; P in V sex ; Creampie ; Overstimulation ; Alastor is his own CW ; If I missed any, let me know! Word Count: 6,542 Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska ; @lustylita ; @eris-norwega ; @rapturenyx ; @sirens-and-moonflowers ; @swagkittybear ; @l3rittany ; @chibistar45 ; @aceumbrellaheroes ; @pearly-sadness ; @mydickisjuicy ; @daisy-figmund ; @lunaorlunareclipse Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay on this one - we had a couple unexpected issues come up that cut into my editing opportunities ;A; Like Chapter Two, this one is a direct continuation of the previous chapter. I'm gonna try to make the next chapter the end of this particular scene, so we'll be getting into the plot soon! Get ready, 'cause it gets dark right out the gate! Also, I apologize ahead of time for the cut-off point - I know it's gonna leave some of ya'll with blue balls. But I'll make it up to you! I swear! Alastor's dialogue will be in bold red, thoughts in italics red, and Reader's will be in blue. If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, let me know via ask/comment!

"Ah-! Fuck!"

You cried suddenly when he switched from kneading away at your breast to pinching your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and index finger. Your walls clenched tightly around his stiff cock at this, extracting a raspy whine from him. Alastor was making it damn near impossible to keep your eyes open, to focus on him. Every single thing he did, from the perpetual thrusting of his hips right down to the sounds that poured from his mouth had you close to creaming on his cock.

"Hm? You like that?" Alastor asked you, tone mocking as he parroted back your question regarding his ears. A jovial laugh echoed in yours when he saw your pout, your lip jutting forward as he leaned down closer to your chest, his thrusts diligent and relentless in their speed. It was amazing that the desk was still standing in spite of the rough pounding he was giving you. With one hand switching between massaging the spongy flesh of your breast to pinching and twisting its tip, Alastor's mouth attended to the other - teeth grazing the pebbled tissue, his lips wrapping around your erect nipple. Suckling gently, he began to flick his tongue over it a few times shortly before pulling away to place tender kisses to your heated, flushed skin. "Oh, my dear - you're so soft," he whispered, speaking more to himself than you, biting near your sternum hard enough to draw blood - sucking at the few droplets that trickled from the tiny wound seconds later.

Lapping at the small gashes in a soothing manner, he moaned into your skin as beads of the delectable red liquid coated his tongue. "So sweet," he mumbled against the malleable flesh. Alastor just knew your breasts would look positively radiant with bite marks, varying degrees of bruises and hickeys littering your skin - every single magnificent blemish a result of his ministrations. Knowing that he was the one to put them there had him twitching inside you, eager to make the images in his mind a reality.

"And all for me."

Alastor withdrew from your delectably beautiful breast, his lips popping loudly as the suction ceased. He took a moment to admire his work - the skin already beginning to darken where he had been suckling; his saliva that coated the hickey making it shine in the dim light; the red imprint of his hand and crescent shaped indentations of his nails where he unwittingly squeezed a little too hard; the way the surrounding area of your lacerated flesh where he bit you began to redden and swell. A sense of triumph and pride came over him, as he had been right - they did look absolutely radiant like this. It had him wondering what the rest of you would look like with similar markings; bite marks on the insides of your thighs and neck, scratches down your back made by his clawed hands, bruises littered across your chest and abdomen - his thrusts lost their rhythm at the thought of it all.

Soon after, Alastor was drawn from his imagination when he felt your hands in his hair again - only this time, your slender fingers were wrapped around the base of his antlers. How you were able to surprise him so easily, so often with such miniscule actions, he'd never know. "A-Ala- ...! Fuck, fuck, please- ...!" you choked out in between your gasping for air and loud sobs of ecstasy, your eyes fluttering as you fought against your own instincts, to keep them focused on his face. "Don't stop, don't stop, oh my god- ...! Oh fffuuu-!" you begged him, tears welling up in your eyes as you teetered right on the cusp of euphoria. A guttural moan from deep within his chest filled the air at the vice grip you had on both his antlers and his cock, nearly swallowed by the melodious sounds you were making and the steady slaps of skin on skin each time he slammed into you. His eyes shifted to radio dials as he watched the expressions you were making with exultation, basking in the marvelous rhapsodies you were singing for him.

Pressing his lips back against your breast, Alastor started to suck and bite in previously unmarked areas - determined to cover every inch of your silky skin. "Cum for me," he beckoned, control slipping from his fingers once again as he began to lose himself in the rapturous pleasure your body was providing. That was all you needed to hear - the sinful drag of his length within your dripping cunt finally pushing you over the edge, every muscle in your body contracting as the first waves of delicious gratification washed over you, swallowing you whole and claiming your senses. Alastor relished in the way your brows furrowed and your jaw dropped, a silent scream clinging to the back of your throat as you gave yourself over to the electrifying cascades. "Such a beautiful sight," he drawled, voice thick with lust and passion, the near deafening crackles and pops of static filling your ears - it was impossible that a more heavenly sight could exist, he thought.

If he could focus on anything else except the way you were squeezing him so tight, Alastor would be thinking of ways to save this moment, this beauty that you were oh-so-gracious enough to share with him. "... - sstor! A-Al-! Hoh- ohhh-! Mmmah-! Alasss- ...!" you couldn't form any coherent words, having been reduced to a blubbering mess as your walls clamed down on his erect member, the way they so greedily continued to suck him back in with each retraction of his hips, the near painful hold you had on him only serving to heighten the pleasure that accompanied it ten-fold.

"If you keep- ... Nnghh-! -keep squeezing me like that, darling-! Fuuhh-!" he tried to warn you, the futility of his words falling on deaf ears - he was too far gone, his words no longer mattered. Alastor had been so focused on coaxing another climax out of you that he failed to notice how close he was to his own, not until the suffocating grip you had on his cock was hurtling him down into the euphoric pits of bliss - forcing him to empty himself inside you for the second time. "Wait, wait- ...! Oh fuck, I'm-!" he cursed, unable to finish his sentence in time as his balls tightened and his mouth hung open, his breath hitching in his throat. He clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head, the sensations overwhelming him - your core dragging him down further and further with every pulse, every contraction of your muscles as he painted your walls white with his seed.

As you slowly came down from your high, seeing his reaction had you pouncing on the opportunity to give Alastor a little taste of his own medicine. You tightened your hold on his enlarged antlers, knuckles white as you pulled his head back and forced him to look up at you, a devious smirk dancing across your lips. "Eyes on me, dearest," you teased him, your tongue lingering on the last word as his body shook and shivered each time you pumped the velvety bones protruding from his skull - your hold pushing him straight into overstimulation with each stroke, every twist of your hands, your nimble fingers massaging gently over any branches you could reach.

Alastor stared up at you with hooded eyes, lips parted as he panted hard - his carefully curated mask of control and ambiguity faltering for a split second as he collapsed on top of you, his strength leaving his body. The small glimpse this gave you into his inner word had your smile softening into one of complete adoration, watching him rest his cheek on your breast, his smile exhausted and tranquil as he tried to level out his breathing.

Retracting your hands from the now shrinking bone, you laced your fingers into his disheveled crimson tresses, smoothing out the ruffled strands. "Good boy," you praised, letting the tips of your fingers stroke the backs of his hypersensitive ears, earning you a relaxed sigh as he nuzzled into your bosom. The two of you stayed like this for a few minutes - simply basking in the afterglow of your passionate acts and enjoying the silence that followed. It felt so surreal to you, being here with Alastor in such an intimate manner, unable to recall the last time you felt so peaceful, so safe in the arms of another person. If you could, you would have stopped time, if only to stay like this - in this moment for just a little while longer. You didn't want this feeling to disappear, absolutely terrified of what would come once it did.

'No, not now. I refuse to think about that - about him...'

Alastor broke his gaze first, closing his eyes and turning his head to place chaste kisses to your chest - and just like that, the mask had returned to its rightful place, barring you from the most vulnerable sanctuary of his inner world as the roiling waves of his release finally subsided, allowing him to take hold of the reins once more. A sigh of repose made its way past his lips as Alastor moved to stand up straight now, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs. "My, my. Brazen little thing, aren't you?" his question rhetorical, his eyes drifting down your sweat covered figure as he pushed your legs further apart. He stared down at the place where your bodies were joined, pride swelling within his being while he admired the way he stretched you open.

Your walls clung to his shaft mercilessly, refusing to release their tight grip as he slowly retracted his hips until he'd pulled out of you entirely - sticky strings of his seen momentarily keeping you connected. "Fuck," Alastor groaned as he watched the viscous white fluid seep from your quivering hole and roll down your ass, a few beads dripping onto the carpeted floor beneath him, admiring the way your pussy clenched around nothing. With his left hand, he swiped at any drops he could catch and pushed it back inside with his index and middle fingers, pumping his digits slowly, eliciting a strangled whine out of you and causing your thigh to strain against his other hand. A haughty laugh erupted from his chest at your weak attempts to close your legs, removing his fingers from your core and bringing them up to your mouth.

"Open,"

Alastor commanded you, then pushed his fingers past your lips to press flat against your tongue. "So messy," he breathed out as you sucked his digits clean of your mixed fluids, not wanting a single drop to go to waste. Satisfied with your obedience, Alastor withdrew his fingers from your mouth a few moments later and cupped your cheek - brushing his calloused thumb over the remnants of your running mascara and eventually drifting back down to press against your lower lip. In that instance, his ever-present smile softened into one of serenity and contentment, drinking in this moment of complete ataraxy.

He could feel the effects of the Love Potion finally begin to drain from his body, being replaced with a sense of relief and... disappointment. 'Something's not right here,' Alastor realized, noticing that despite having successfully remedied his symptoms, he still very much so desired your company and affection. He rarely experienced emotions of a sexual nature outside his ruts, and he couldn't recall having ever felt romantic attraction to anyone in life or in death, so it was strange that he found himself wanting to drag this out as long as possible. But why? What about you was so different that had him betraying his preferences, yearning for your touch and longing to hear those sweet whispers over and over again until you couldn't speak?

Perhaps Love Potion was more than just a potent aphrodisiac and he simply underestimated the range of effects that spray could have on a person. He never had any reason to learn anything about it before tonight, viewing it strictly as another pointlessly annoying invention by those bandwagon riding hacks, so he was in the dark just as much as you. Or maybe his rut hit him early this time around. Whatever the case, Alastor refused to admit these were his own raw, unfiltered emotions and desires - it was too ridiculous, too comical a notion to be true. Him, the Radio Demon, the great and powerful Alastor, famous for his sadistic brutality, experiencing feelings as asinine and weak as romance? How utterly absurd!

... Unfortunately, the longer it went on, the more he was forced to acknowledge the horrendous possibility that dreadful mixture had only served as a catalyst to something much greater than a simple romp in the hay.

'This won't do,' Alastor thought, knowing he had to uproot these feelings of infatuation as soon as possible - before they grew beyond containment and become a threat of any sort. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was fully aware that it was a foolish decision, to not cut this off at the source immediately, but he couldn't help himself. The brilliance with which your eyes shined and the promises of bliss your body continued to make even now had him second guessing that course of action. But there was still a very real possibility, one much more likely that this was just a passing fancy brought on by the drug, and all he needed to do was get it - get you out of his system. 'Yes, that's all I need to do,' he told himself, deciding that he would indulge in these cravings - and you - for a little while longer.

Impulsively, Alastor leaned down again to give you a sweet kiss. His lips lingered on yours, one hand moving to curl around the back of your neck, the other finding your waist as he tugged you up into a sitting position. What started out as an innocent kiss soon turned more playful when he felt your teeth nipping and tugging on his lip, causing him to pull away with a light-hearted chuckle. "Quite the mischievous little minx, too," he said as he continued to smile down at you, a breathy giggle emerging from your throat in response to his statement. "There's the pot calling the kettle black," you mused, letting your hands rest on his forearms and leaning forward to press your head against his bare chest. "Hmm... I prefer the term 'cheeky monkey', but I suppose mischievous works just as well," he countered, lightly massaging the base of your scalp.

Silence filled the space between you as your exhaustion was quickly catching up, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. You had to stifle yet another yawn, something that did not go unnoticed by Alastor when he pulled you back gently by your hair to see your face better. "Tired? Would you like to stop?" he asked you, his grin widening when he saw the confusion on your face. Alastor looked down at the small space between your bodies, then to your face as a single brow rose - as if he was hinting for you to look down as well. "As enjoyable as that was, I don't think it was enough to rid my body of these pesky symptoms," he blamed that god-awful concoction, adamantly refusing to admit these desires were all his and nothing more. Following Alastor's suggestions, you looked down to see that he was once again fully erect, beads of precum leaking from his head to join with the remnants of your mixed essences. "Damn... What the hell did they put in that potion?" you asked jovially as you looked back up at him, a smile to match his own plastered across your face.

"I've not the slightest clue," Alastor laughed along with you at this predicament you've found yourselves in, glad that you both were now able to make light of the situation your mistake had caused. "But I will most definitely be having a little chat with our friend, Angel, about bringing such paraphernalia into this establishment come morning," he promised, his voice coming out as a growl as Angel's name rolled off his tongue. Alastor wholeheartedly blamed Angel for this chain of events - had he kept to the initial agreement when taking up residence at Hazbin Hotel, the drug never would have been anywhere near your naive self, and he wouldn't be tearing himself apart inside trying to figure out what it is he truly felt for you. Was it a fair judgement? Probably not, but it was of no concern to Alastor.

That was Charlie's job, not his.

"Uh-huh... And will this be a chat, chat, or should I stock up on tissues and ice cream before telling Charlie that her first guest is, ya know-" you ran your finger in a straight line across your neck as a way of saying 'dead'. Your question pulled him from his thoughts and Alastor blinked innocently. "Oh, heaven's no! I'm not going to kill him over something so frivolous as this!" he reassured you, waving a hand in the air to dismiss the idea. He had thought about it, sure - but it would bring more trouble than it was worth. He would never hear the end of it from Charlie and her pet; not to mention the numerous problems that would occur following his butchery of an owned soul, one belonging to a rival Overlord, and of high quality and value as Angel Dust. He could easily handle whatever the Vee's threw at him without breaking a sweat, but he'd rather not invite that kind of trouble to his doorstep just yet, not with the impending Extermination steadfastly approaching.

"He wouldn't die anyway, unless I used angelic steel. I'd rather save myself the headache he would give me after he puts himself back together."

Alastor had to hand it to Angel, though. He was mildly impressed by the resilience of his soul as well as his mind. When there was more than a fifty percent gap in the level of power, usually the owned soul would lose their sense of autonomy and become a mindless drone within the owner's ranks - but not him. Angel not only maintained his sentience after selling his soul, but he also still possessed the will to fight back too - and fight back, he did whenever Val's abuse stepped outside the parameters of their contract, a feat deserving of his praise. He had potential, that one. "Besides, it's far too entertaining to watch him annoy Husker. Poor fellow brings it on himself," he explained and waved away your concerns, soon turning his attention back to the growing ache within his loins.

"Okay, good. It's not really his fault, anyway," you mumbled as you thought of how you were going to get to Angel first - you had to warn him, at least. He may have brought Love Potion into the hotel, but you were the one ignorant enough to spray a previously unknown substance around one of the most feared demons Hell has ever known in recent memory. Angel already had one Overlord breathing down his neck, abusing him at every turn - it would eat you alive if you were the reason a second was added to the mixture. Drawing your attention back to him, Alastor lowered his hands to your hips and pulled you closer, pressing himself against you in an effort to alleviate some of his pain. "But I can think of a couple things that would be far more entertaining than a cat trying to swat away a spider," he purred, static popping loudly as he leaned down to steal another kiss from you, to which you happily returned.

The moment was fleeting as Alastor pulled back and reached behind you to the small vintage radio sitting near the corner of his desk. He pulled the knob to power it up and turned a few dials until smooth jazz began to play from its speakers. Although still mildly irked by your earlier actions - when you covered your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself - he remembered the embarrassment he saw in your eyes. Now that he was able think more clearly on it, he realized how much it truly bothered you to be heard by someone else other than him, and it sent small pangs of guilt all throughout his being. 'How inconsiderate of me,' he thought, cursing himself for not having any restraint despite his warning of the possibilities earlier. Alastor owed you an apology for the way he ignored your feelings in pursuit of his own pleasure, especially when you had been nothing but compassionate and accommodating of his needs.

Taking a step back, Alastor bent over to unlace his shoes and remove his remaining garments that were wrapped around his ankles - allowing you a glimpse of something curious. Initially, you had no idea what it was as you leaned forward, then side to side in an attempt to get a better look at it. "Hmm...?" Alastor hummed when he stood up straight, immediately noting the perplexed expression that overtook your features as he kicked his trousers and briefs to the side. "Something the matter, dear?" he asked you, tilting his head to the side as you pressed your lips into a thin line. You continued to eye the neatly groomed ball of crimson and black fluff for a few seconds before it finally dawned on you what it might have been.

Does... he have a tail?

"Alastor, is that a tail?" you blurted without thinking, immediately slapping both of your hands over your mouth right after. "Oh- that," he said nonchalantly, moving to stand between your legs once more. Your body tensed as you awaited his reaction, certain that you had earned yourself a good scolding for such an impolite question. You hadn't meant to be so bold or outright, but you've long since known that your body and your brain hadn't been on the same page since the moment all of this began. "Yes, it's a tail," Alastor responded with a sigh and turned slightly, swishing the puff of fur side to side a couple times to amuse you before turning back. "I'm sorry, that was rude- ...!?" you tried to apologize, but a surprised squeal interrupted your speech when his sharpened claws sunk into your posterior after he hoisted you up off the desk, your hands shooting up to grab onto his shoulders and legs wrapping around his waist in the process.

"It's alright, darling," Alastor reassured you, spinning around and taking a few long strides to the rarely used bed. "While I'm not particularly fond of it, my tail isn't something that I've ever gone out of my way to hide," he explained, dropping you onto the mattress and climbing on top of you soon after, nestling himself in between your legs as you breathed a sigh of relief - albeit a short-lived one. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, causing your body to tense right back up with each word that spilled from his lips. "Although, you are correct - it was quite rude to ask such a thing," he clicked his tongue in mock disapproval, his pointed teeth nipping at the shell of your ear, then moving down to tug on the lobe. "Perhaps I should give you a lesson in proper etiquette, hm?" Alastor mused, rolling his bare hips against yours, sending shivers up and down your spine, not missing the flash of panic in your eyes when his words finally registered in your brain.

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit- fucking hell, fuck my life!' you thought, trying to reel yourself back in and failing miserably. If this 'lesson' of his was anything like the punishment he had doled out earlier, you knew you were in for a rough night - one that would leave you physically incapable of walking out of his room come morning. "No- ...! Al, no, no... i-it was just a slip of the tongue, I swear!" your pleas had no effect on him though, his lips ghosting over the carotid artery in your neck, then over your collar bone and traveling further down to your breasts. "I'm sorry, please- ...!" you spoke, only to be interrupted by Alastor's stern gaze, looking up at you as he placed butterfly kisses to your bare chest and his teeth grazed over your erect nipple. "I know you are, dear," Alastor started, kissing further down your diaphragm to your navel, not breaking eye contact for even a millisecond. "But if 'sorry' fixed everything, there would be no hell, no demons, and we most definitely would not be in this hotel," he smirked wickedly, knowing that you couldn't argue with the point he had just made - your silence proved as much.

Alastor continued to move south, soon reaching the delicious mound between your thighs, never once thinking it would be this fun, this intoxicating. But, as much as he wanted to devour you and everything you had to offer him, he was on a self-imposed mission now and couldn't let himself get distracted. He would have the chance to indulge himself in a few short moments, anyway. Heated breath fanning over your soaked core, Alastor lightly kissed and nipped at the insides of your thighs, past your knees and down your calves - stopping momentarily for a taste of your blood that was still seeping from your self-inflicted wound. He groaned as the taste of copper coated his tongue, one hand wrapping around your ankle, deft digits unclasping the strap of your heel - repeating the process with the other and discarding both seconds later.

Sighing in defeat, you wiggled your newly freed toes while Alastor began to kiss his way back up your body until he was face to face with you again. "W-well then... what would this lesson entail, exactly?" you asked nervously, resigning yourself over to your fate as you tried to sift through your mixed emotions, unable to differentiate your anxiety from your excitement for the coming lesson. "Ah, ah, ah - patience, my dear," Alastor chuckled darkly at your question, not bothering to answer it as he roughly pressed his lips to yours and pinched one of your pert nipples. "Mmph-phh!" you whined, your body flinching at the pain his digits were causing as he twisted the sensitive flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Alastor pulled back, his teeth dragging your bottom lip with him as far as it would go - releasing it and your pebbled nipple simultaneously a few seconds later.

"On your knees."

Gulping audibly, you moved to sit up and reposition yourself in the center of his bed, eager yet a bit fearful of what he had in store. "O-okay... now what?" Alastor didn't answer your question at first, his figure evaporating into a cloud of black smoke only to reform in the space behind you. You couldn't see what he was doing, feeling the bed shift with his every move, causing your heart to race as you did your best to wait patiently for whatever it was that he had planned. "Now, we're going to play a little game, love," Alastor whispered in your ear, using his knee to force your legs further apart, tracing his lips down the rigid vertebrae of your spine. He placed one final kiss at the small of your back, eventually moving to lie flat on his own and scooting upwards until his face was between your thighs.

Looking down when you felt his antlers scrape across your sensitive skin, you had to cover your mouth with both hands to stile a laugh. "Alastor, what are you doing?" you asked, not expecting to have seen just his head in this position nor the uncharacteristic look of innocence he was giving you - a stark contrast to his previous display of dominance moments ago. "I told you already - we're going to play a game, one that will teach you some proper manners," Alastor explained despite knowing that your question was rhetorical - he knew it must have been an amusing sight, to look down and see his face when you were likely expecting him to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he took you in every which way he pleased. He still intended to do exactly that, but not before you finished this game he just now concocted. Hands latching on to your hips, Alastor pulled your lower body down until you could feel his breath against your warmth each time he exhaled, that devilish silver tongue of his licking a single long stripe from your opening up and over your clit, then back down again.

"The rules are simple enough," Alastor began to explain, hands drifting down from your hips to the tops of your thighs and squeezing lightly. "I'll go easy on you, my darling doe. All you have to do is name five basic etiquette rules. If you stop talking, I stop," he paused mid-sentence to lick another stripe up your slick folds, "if you slow down, I slow down," another pause, this time flicking the tip of his tongue over the pink nub in between. "And if you cum before reciting them to me, trust that I won't let you cum again tonight," he promised, smile wide and wicked, a mischievous laugh following his words. You broke out into a cold sweat as he explained, your nerves kicking into overdrive as you tried to remember what the rules were. Most of them were common courtesy and usually taught to everyone during childhood, but with your mind so clouded with lust, you couldn't think of a single one. On the bright side, at least he only wanted you to name five.

"A-and... what if I can't recite any of these rules?" you asked sheepishly, biting the inside of your cheek to hold back your mewls when he dipped his tongue inside your plush walls and swirled all around them, retreating soon after and returning to your clit. He pulled back just enough to speak, inhaling your sweet scent and fighting back the urge to dive right back in - rules be damned. "Hmm... I'll give you one hint. After that, well... You're on your own. Use it wisely, my dear," his voice trailed off, eyes glowing a bright red as you stared at each other.

"Now, shall we begin, my sweet?"

Fuck, this was going to be hard. How the fuck were you supposed to think and form coherent sentences when his ministrations were lighting every single nerve in your body on fire? And you hadn't even begun yet! Alastor was awaiting your signal to start, anticipation and impatience gnawing away at his self-control. "Ooohhh- ohh-kaah- aay-! Let's staa-hahh- arrrt-!" you cried, trying to focus your mind so that you could begin. "Wonderful," he responded shortly before diving back in for another taste of your honey sweet essence. He started by poking and prodding at your slick entrance, then moved up to suck on your clit as you moaned softly with each suckle, each flick over the small cluster of nerves. He could see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours, trying to find the words to recite the first rule of basic etiquette.

"O-okay, uhm... fuck," you whispered. "One rule is- so the first rule, I mean- nnghh!" a harsh suckle from Alastor was making it hard for you to focus on anything except the pleasure he was giving you. "A-always be respectful to others-!" With one rule down, you heard Alastor hum softly into your heated flesh, gasping loudly when he opened his mouth wider and pressed his tongue flat against your delicious mound, making long, firm strokes. "Aaahh-! Another rule i-is... shit, another rule is- ... is, be punctual- hahh! Let someone k-know if you're going to be- fuck! -To be late!" Rule number two, done; three to go. You tried to keep talking, even if it was just a bunch of babbling nonsense. You didn't want him to slow down or stop, but as the coil in your belly tightened rapidly and threatened to snap at any second, you recalled the third rule he had given you:

'And f you cum before reciting them to me, trust that I won't let you cum again tonight.'

Those words rang in your ears as you reluctantly closed your mouth and forced yourself to stop talking, trying to cool yourself off and push back your orgasm. Alastor wasn't pleased by this, but he was the one that set the rules, so he obeyed - stopping his movements and glaring up at you, his nails digging into the fat of your thighs as a warning not to test his already too thin patience. "Go on," he urged you, his right hand retreating from your leg to travel down his own body to his painfully erect cock, precum dripping from his slit and rolling down the length of it to soak the patch of neatly groomed crimson hair at his base. Swallowing hard, you nodded your head and opened your mouth to continue speaking even though you had not yet come down completely. "A-ask for permission, an-nnnghh-! And uhmm- oh fuck! Fuck, c-cover your mouth when you... when you sneeze, or cough- oh my god!" you recited rule number three and four in quick succession, your hands shooting down to twist and tug at his magnificently opulent head of red and black hair, eventually moving to wrap around the base of his antlers, looking for something to ground yourself as you tried to think of one final rule.

"You're doing well, Mon Amour. One more, and then you can let go," Alastor promised you, lazily stroking his hardened length in an effort to alleviate some of the pain, a bead of pre rolling down the length of it and mixing with your combined essences in the space between his shaft and balls. A soft whine escaped his throat when he tightened his grip and began to pump himself with a little more vigor, drool mixed with the delicious nectar spilling from your core trickling down the sides of his face and coating his chin. "Come now, don't keep me waiting. You can do it," he mumbled against your flesh, waiting for you to begin speaking again.

Alastor continued to pump his shaft, gradually gaining speed as you remained silent, panting hard and squeezing his antlers even harder, struggling to fight back your release long enough to finish the game. But the sight beneath you was one to behold, indeed - you couldn't bring yourself down even a smidgen as you admired the way the soft light shone on his disheveled hair, how his hooded eyes spoke volumes on what he was feeling, new branches forming and growing from the main roots of his antlers as control began to slip from his fingertips once more. And just as you stared at him, he stared back. His own eyes traveled from your blissed out expression, pupils blown wide with lust, to the bite marks and hickeys scattered across your neck and collarbone, and further down to the curve of your supple breasts heaving as you tried to catch your breath before you continued. "My sweet doe, please..." Now he was the one that was begging, voice thick with seduction and desperation. Had you not been so close to your peak, you would have taken full advantage of the opportunity to dominate him this time around.

You watched him for a couple seconds, listening as his breathing became more ragged and the slick sounds of his hand rapidly pumping his shaft grew louder and louder. Moans soon replaced his huffs and gasps as he pushed himself closer to his climax, almost foregoing his own game and devouring your sweet little cunt as he chased his high - but no. He persevered, pinching his tip suddenly to push back his own release in favor of hearing the last rule he so eagerly waited for you to speak. He didn't have to wait for long, as you finally felt comfortable enough to open your mouth and continue speaking, pressing your drenched core down and grinding slow, harsh circles on his mouth. "A-and the last rule- nnghh oh fuck me, just like that-!" you whispered, grip tightening around his antlers as Alastor growled against your ambrosian heat, his left hand moving down to join the other by cupping his aching balls, kneading and rolling them between his digits, slurping messily and sucking harshly on your clit as he came closer and closer to his release.

"The last rule i-is- hahhh-! A-always... always say please and thank you!" you finished, closing your eyes and throwing your head bad in ecstasy, your hips gyrating, desperately chasing that breath-takingly, blissful release. "Oh my god, fuck- thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank youuu-ahh! Please, keep going, Al-!" you cried as the blinding, white hot euphoria crashed into you at long last, tremors wracking your entire body as you rode out your high, your essence pouring from your cunt and down Alastor's throat, eliciting a graphic, drawn out groan as he vigorously pumped away at his cock - too far gone to care that you had broken the golden rule by looking away from him. Not wanting to cum just yet, Alastor retracted his hands from his aching shaft and grabbed hold of your waist, lifting you slightly to slip out from beneath you.

"You're so good for me! So good," Alastor murmured as he moved to sit on his knees behind you, pushing your body forward until you were on your hands and knees. Grabbing hold of your hips and dragging you closer to him, he didn't waste any time as he guided his throbbing member to your quivering hole, your juices making it easy for him to slip inside with minimal resistance. Setting a brutal pace almost instantly, Alastor held you by the hips as you lowered your upper body until your face was pressed against the heavy duvet, your hands clenching the thick fabric as Alastor pounded away at your overstimulated pussy, his balls slapping loudly against your clit as your walls clamped down on his engorged cock. "Hah- A-Ah! Ala- fuck, yes, just like that! Please don't stop, please don't stop, don't stop!" you babbled, your voice muffled by the blanket as you closed your eyes tightly, riding the aftershocks while he used you for his own gratification.

"Fuuuhh-ckkk!" you barely heard Alastor curse, his voice almost completely drowned out by the rhythmic 'pap! pap! pap!' sound of skin on skin, his thrusts becoming more animalistic with every slap, every plea you cried than bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. His eyes traveled down the length of your arched spine, watching as ripples were sent through the fat of your ass each time his hips made contact, his cock sliding against your pliant walls with ease, his tip bullying your cervix. "Hah! Hah! Fuh- ... uhah! Ala- ... Hah! Ah!" you practically screamed, his thrusts interrupting any attempts to say his name each time he plowed forward.

"Take it, take it, fucking take it- fuck!"

[ Master Post ] ❀ [ Chapter One ] ❀ [ Chapter Two ] ❀ [ Chapter Three ] ❀ [ Chapter Four ] ❀ [ Chapter Five ] Chapter Four Coming Soon~!

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-one | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, a lot of innocent people get murdered but there's no solid description! someone gets hanged as well | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow sees district thirteen getting what it deserves and finds himself with a goal

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i should be studying... But here ya go! Make sure to give me feedback, we're nearing the end soon!

Beta read by the sweetheart @nowitsmissing

masterlist | navigation

It was extremely early in the morning when every single Peacekeeper was called into the Peacekeeper base. There was a TV, it was surprisingly a big screen. Definitely from the Capitol. You were standing beside Commander Hoff and behind you were several Capitol officials.

“Today, we make history. Today we'll end the rebellion from its root,” Commander Hoffs’ voice echoes onto the hall.

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, unsure of what exactly is happening. The confusion is jarring. You looked stoic, your face devoid of any emotions. You never looked so beautiful to him. You looked like power. Fuck.

Coriolanus diverts his eyes before his thoughts turn inappropriate. He looks at the screen and watches it come alive. A familiar face shows up. Lucky Flickerman. The first-ever host of the 10th annual Hunger Games.

Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows before he begins to connect the dots. This has something to do with district thirteen. Ending rebellion from its root? How is that possible? Unless…

District thirteen still exists and the Capitol has fed him lies about it from the beginning. Coriolanus wanted to feel bitter but instead, he felt relief because it meant you were doing something about it. You wouldn't let it go. And this was a gift for him, he realized. District thirteen was what ruined his family and now you're eradicating its existence from the face of Panem.

You were extraordinary.

“Today, district thirteen will cease to exist,” you announced to everyone standing.

And then, Flickerman begins to talk,

“Citizens of Panem, today the Capitol will make history yet again. From the dark age, we have learned not to repeat our mistakes. There won't be a war in Panem ever again, and this is a step towards that,”

He continues,

“Months ago, there was reported activity near the area of district thirteen since then the government has worked tirelessly to find out the truth. It has been revealed that district thirteen exists,” Coriolanus hears multiple gasps, and even Flickerman stops talking for a moment to let the shock settle in.

The man then goes on,

“But those lives there are not blameless. They live with the blood of beloved Capitol citizens on their hands. They have rebellion in their hearts and hence keep themselves a secret. But no more! Because of a special mission approved by the President and esteemed officials' dedication to keeping the Capitol safe,”

“We'll be seeing from our own eyes how the Capitol keeps us safe. We'll see from our own eyes why the Hunger Games is needed. Thank you.”

Coriolanus looks away from the screen and turns his eyes towards you. You were already looking at him and when his eyes caught yours, you smirked.

This was the secret.

This was the mission.

He could only hope that everything goes your way. The screen comes alive in a different scene. People in military gear with weapons of all kinds. Coriolanus' eyes widened, the Capitol would be broadcasting the slaughter of the district in front of their very eyes.

Not much different from the Hunger Games.

Coriolanus wonders why they do that- why broadcast it when you can keep it hidden? This shows Capitol can sometimes overlook some mistakes too. They found out about District thirteen accidentally after all. This is a shame for all of Panem for letting them exist for so long.

But he also thinks that it will reinforce the idea of the Hunger Games. It will make everybody think that violence, the punishment are necessary, or else another district thirteen will pop up again. And history might repeat itself.

Snow looks at the screen and hears the gunshot and the screams. They were murdering indiscriminately but the camera made sure only the armed forces of district thirteen came into view. Most of the soldiers there had extremely pale skin and red eyes. The way they were holding the gun, they were shaking.

All these would be missed by the blind eyes such as of the Capitol citizens but he knew every Peacekeeper and district citizens could notice it. They were sick, extremely so. It was a massacre happening disguised as something else entirely.

There was no fight at all despite what the Capitol wanted to make it seem like. District Thirteen was weak and soon a lot of people were captured, and those people would be tried for treason. Those people would die as well. There was no doubt about that.

He wondered briefly about what would happen to the kids they captured as well. He slightly shook his head, he let those thoughts get out of his head. Not his problem.

“District thirteen is ours now,” you were looking at him as you said that.

Ours.

Coriolanus liked it.

Coryo gives you a split-second smile. The rest of the people present watching the screen go blank. This moment was shared just between the two of you. The mission was a success.

A few seconds later, Commander Hoff speaks,

“To accommodate this victory, several rebels that were caught in District Twelve will be executed at noon . Everyone has to be present. Dismissed.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

At noon along with Sejanus, he was standing with his back facing the Hanging Tree. He looks through the faces of the people and tries to find you but fails. Maybe you were busy.

Coriolanus has another thought creep into his mind, but he doesn't let it settle. He was sure he would find you in your room when he got back.

He was stationed beside Sejanus. Every citizen present looked down, their shoulders hunched. Every instinct to fight leaves their body after seeing the latest horrors of the Capitol. It is how it should be.

Snow sees the rebels being dragged to their death. Commander Hoff speaks, loud and clear, “Watch all of you, this is what happens when you challenge the Capitols’ rule of law.”

“He's innocent!” A woman screams out, creating havoc in the crowd. “He's innocent!”

The rebel yells at her to run, and other people in the crowd try to make her stop speaking. The rebel was killed within a split second, his body now hanging. His screams are echoed by the mockingjays. It sends down a chill on his spine. His hatred for the bird increases.

Hoff commands the woman to be captured. Sejanus steps forward as if to stop them. Coriolanus holds him back, glad nobody noticed the moment of misconduct. “Don't,” he said, firmly. Sejanus has no choice but to listen.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Later, he is called into Commander Hoff's office. He was slightly annoyed because he still hadn't seen you since morning. But to his surprise, you were in Hoffs' office along with someone else.

“You have visitors, Mr. Snow,” is what Hoff said before walking away.

“What's this about?” He questions immediately. He looks at you for reassurance. Which you give him immediately.

“I promise it's nothing bad, Coryo.”

The man in the black suit begins to speak,

“I am Richard Heavensbee. I am here as the representative of the government.”

Then the talk happens. Both you and Coriolanus stay silent as the man, Richard, begins to explain why Coriolanus is here right now. Apparently in district thirteen several nuclear weapons belonging to the Snow family were found. The weapons for which the Snow had lost their fortune.

The weapons will be under the government's control as no one in his family is qualified to have the sort of military power. Coriolanus was at the bottom, after all, he should be happy for not having the responsibility. But he wasn't.

He sucks it up because Richard informs them that Coriolanus will receive sufficient compensation for ‘selling’ the weapon back to the government. It was nothing more than a formality. A formality that probably wouldn't have been done if it wasn't for you.

It wasn't enough money to pay for all of his university semesters but it would certainly pay for some. Even with the bills Snow's family already had. Tigris and grandma’am could have some small luxury with this amount. Thinking of that, Coriolanus signs the paper without a fuss.

“Can't I go back to the Capitol?” Coriolanus can't help but ask.

His question is answered with a simple shake of his head. “Your punishment isn't forgiven, I am afraid. There's nothing we can currently do about it without the appropriate permissions.” After that, the man walks out of the room leaving you and Snow behind.

“What he means is that you need to impress Dr. Gaul. And you have to do it real quick, Coryo,” you look into his eyes, your expression more serious than he ever saw, “Because I will be leaving in a few days and I don't know when I can come back.”

With that, even you walked out of the room before Coriolanus could confront you. Coriolanus looks at the empty office of Commander Hoff. He could see himself here in ten years or so if he remains a mere peacekeeper.

That's a future that he can't allow to come true.

NEXT PART

[lizardkingeliot]

The thing is tho... okay.

Here's the thing.

AMC’s Interview with the Vampire has so effectively driven home the point that Lestat loves Louis without condition and will continue loving him to the same degree forever regardless of the passage of time and regardless of what Louis has done that sometimes it's easy to forget that, like... Louis doesn't actually know that. Sometimes I'm really just like what do you MEAN Louis de Pointe du Lac doesn't know he's Lestat de Lioncourt's heartbeat now and forever Louis de Pointe du Lac do you even watch the SHOW.

Anyway. I don't know what I'm trying to say here but I think it's something about the romantic angst of it all. The way Lestat is going to be forced to betray Claudia and Louis in Paris during the trial leaving Louis with the belief that Lestat doesn't want him. He will view this as a rejection and this is the reason why he is going to spend the next 77 years of his life with Armand. This is why he couldn't just reach out to Lestat post-Paris and try to work things out. I’m not saying anything new here, I know. Most of us have worked this out already. It took me a while to get there yesterday when I was digesting the episode because, like I said, Lestat’s love is so obvious it’s easy to forget Louis really doesn’t know. But listen….

Louis is deeply unwell in 1973 San Francisco. When Lestat asks him why he’s ill all I can think right now is… well. Because he doesn’t have you. Even before he walked into the sun he was ill because he doesn’t have you. Ill in New Orleans after the deed was done. Ill in Paris and sustaining himself with memories so vivid it was like Lestat was there in the room. Ill in San Francisco when Armand could have ended it all by relaying Lestat's words to Louis, and didn't. Ill in Dubai searching the well of memory trying to find his way back to something like sanity again...

But listen. Sam Reid said Lestat very much thinks Louis is dead after 1973. This tracks. It fits very neatly with the ~theme. With what this season is trying to do wrt the romantic angst of it all. Maybe Lestat is still locked up in a dungeon or underground somewhere sleeping, maybe he isn't. Maybe he's rotting away in New Orleans, wrecked with grief, thinking about walking out and greeting the sun every morning when it rises and he's reminded Louis is gone. I guess we'll find out soon enough…

But listen. There's not some great conclusion I'm trying to arrive at with this post. I'm just spinning my wheels thinking about how delicious the tropes on this show truly are. To separate a love like that, to have Louis believe Lestat doesn't want him and have Lestat believe that Louis is dead. Well, friends... that sounds like a recipe for a grand reunion to me. And maybe what I'm trying to do with this post is toss another coin in the wishing well of a potential season 3. Because you can't have a love story like this that is destined to end in a reunion only to come back the next season to pretend it doesn't matter. I don't know. Maybe you can. But I really hope they don't. I really hope when they come back together at the end of this nightmare, when Lestat is finally permitted to have a voice of his own, that voice will be echoing through the halls of their home, because he'll be telling his story to Louis.