#wooden tablet stand

[fishbonex]

The uncertainty of coexistence

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Can a warrior become the object of her general's affection?

Warning: mentions of war, typical canon violence, big age difference (reader is in her 20s and Ambessa is in her 50s), power imbalance

Word Count: 1,5K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

To be born in Noxus was to be certain that one way or another you would end up on the battlefield. Without knowing the reason or purpose, a Noxian would do what your generals told you to do. To honor your blood and ancestry. It was better to be a warrior than a slave or a prostitute. That's what you think, at least.

You had never been to war, though. It had been less than three years since you had become a warrior. Because you were inexperienced, the higher-ranking officers were more harsh on you and the younger ones.

The training sessions led by Rictus were tiring, but they were intended to prepare you for the imminent war that your general was preparing.

Your general, Ambessa Medarda. Lady of War. You had only seen her up close a few times, but it was enough for you to know that she was impressive.

You turned your attention back to what you were doing when you felt a strong blow to your ribs, making you gasp and fall to the ground. Shooting a irritated look at Carissa, your friend and training partner, you stood up, grabbing your stick.

"We're not at war yet and I'm not the enemy, you don't need to use so much force." you complained.

"I didn't use much force." she smiled smugly. "You're weak."

You almost raised your eyebrows at her teasing, then looked out of the small training cabin, seeing Rictus distracted with his runic tablets. Taking the opportunity, you ran and threw yourself at Carissa, making a dry noise on the floor, then tried to grab her hands, which proved difficult as she began to struggle, the smug look still present on her smiling face.

"Do you surrender?" you asked, letting out a low chuckle. She let out a louder chuckle when you managed to grab one of her hands.

Distracted by your play, you didn't notice the familiar sound of heavy boots behind you, at the entrance to the cabin.

"It gives me great pleasure to see the youth of Noxus rejoice in being a part of my army." the authoritative voice spoke, causing both of you to freeze momentarily.

Quickly standing up, you lowered your head, looking down at your bare feet on the wooden floor, you saw Carissa doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

"General." you both spoke at the same time, your voices sounding shaky.

Ambessa walked in, approaching and stopping near the two of you, her heavy presence silencing the entire room. She exuded a dark power without having to do anything.

"Don't stop, go back to playing, we have plenty of time." she spoke again, her voice vibrating closer. "Isn't it?"

You swallowed hard, your hands starting to sweat. Ambessa was known for her determination and violence, she had no patience for mistakes and distractions. A thought about that ran through your head and made you breathe heavily.

She walked a few steps, starting to circle around the two of you. She stopped next to Carissa and tilted her head down.

"Out," she ordered, her voice sounding colder.

Carissa swallowed and nodded, leaving without another word. Ambessa walked a few more steps, stopping in front of you, making you feel smaller than ever, in every way.

You felt your face being held and lifted by a large hand, Ambessa looked at you for a moment before letting go of your chin.

"You looked intimate the way you were riding her." she spoke again. "I suppose I don't need to advise you on the hazards of professional entanglements."

"I sincerely apologize, General. It won't happen again." you said, your voice sounding small.

Ambessa looked down from above, let out a satisfied sigh, and left.

You grunted as you delivered two consecutive blows with the blade to the inanimate doll's neck. Carissa was no longer your training partner. Now you trained individually in the training room that had the worn-out wooden dolls.

Sighing, you pulled out the large blade of the knife that had stuck in the wood. As you stepped away to stab the doll in the stomach, you heard the door open and heavy footsteps enter the training room, followed by the deep voice you had heard from very close by a few days before.

"Haven't they ever told you not to stand with your back to the door?" Ambessa asked and you turned in time to see her pick up one of the large knives that was laid out on a table in the corner.

She wore her training clothes, the sports bra that showed off her toned belly, her arms covered by cloth armbands.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head slightly, "General."

"Leave the doll alone, let's see if you can land your blows on me." she ordered, approaching you.

"Pardon?" you frowned, confused.

"I don't like repeating myself, child," she said, her voice heavier this time. "Fight me."

You swallowed hard, knowing you couldn't disregard her orders. Biting your lower lip in insecurity, you advanced on her, moving the blade in the strokes you were used to making.

All to be knocked to the ground in almost the same second, the blade being ripped from your hand.

"You’re sloppy and predictable. Everything the enemy expects.” Ambessa hovered above you, holding both blades in her hands. “You’ll die the second you step foot in the war.”

She threw the blades to the ground and pulled you up by your arm, before starting to randomly strike you with her hands, making you put your hands in front of your body to defend yourself.

She pulled one of your arms and raised her body, passing her legs over you, hitting your face with her right foot. You fell again, feeling your nose bleed.

Training with her continued for weeks. Weeks where you felt anxious whenever the time to see her approached. At one point, you longed to be near her, her body heavy on yours when she pinned you to the ground while teaching.

Learning from a war veteran proved to be rewarding, as you improved and improved a lot. But no reward compared to seeing her almost every day.

As unbelievable as it may seem, Ambessa was patient at one point, her voice softening as she taught you something you didn't already know.

This made your heart beat faster.

Your breathing was faster and you could feel your lungs burning, but you couldn't stop. Ambessa's blows didn't slow down, she advanced violently towards you. Using one of your legs to unbalance her, you used the tip of the spear to make a tiny cut on her cheekbone, making her freeze for a moment.

Realizing what you had done, you opened your mouth to speak and reached out your hand towards her, who stood up on her own and walked towards you, leaving almost no space.

"General, what-" your words were cut off as she brought her large hands to either side of your face and bent over you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

You brought them to her shoulders, sliding them down to the sides of her face. She gave light bites to your jaw and chin as she pulled away from your lips.

"You have a lot of courage for someone your size," she said without pulling away. "You've proven yourself worthy."

"I want you to be proud of me." you blurted out without thinking properly.

She let out a deep laugh and pulled away, taking the heat of her body away from you.

"You left a scar on me, that is honorable," she said, pulling the gold piercing from her lower lip. "Someone honorable should wear a symbol, a symbol that shows they are on my side."

She approached you again and fitted the gold piece to your lower lip, running one of her thick fingers over it.

After that day, you no longer stood among the other warriors. Ambessa allowed you to walk beside her, as Rictus. You proudly wore the gold piercing on your lower lip.

At the moment, on her orders, the army was moving from the fixed base to Viktor's hideout, crossing the unguarded bridge that connected the Noxian installations to the rest of Piltover. Of course she wasn't going to blend in.

You turned your face and looked down, seeing how far the bridge was from the water. A fall wouldn't kill, but drowning was imminent.

You turned your attention forward when you felt Ambessa's large hand on your waist, making you look at her with a frown, to which she continued with the same stoic expression as always, looking forward.

Suddenly, you felt the thud on your legs and your body being thrown out of the limits of the bridge, the only thing that kept you from falling was the large hand that held only one of yours.

Eyes wide with surprise and despair you looked up, finding Ambessa's sharp eyes staring at you coldly. She didn't say anything for a moment, the sound of the water below was the only thing present, as the army had stopped marching.

"What-" you groaned, feeling your arm start to ache, your legs swinging slightly. "Please."

"I warned you of the hazards of professional entanglements." she said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You froze, feeling your chest hurt. But of course. How could you have been so stupid?

A warrior does not grow like this in the eyes of their general.

With your delay in responding, Ambessa stared at you for a while longer before pulling you up, leaving you hanging on your own, struggling to climb up the bridge.

When you managed to get up, you were breathing quickly, your heart was beating fast and she had already started walking again, with her army following her.

[oukabarsburgblr]

come a little closer so you can fuck me better

It was the third quarter of a semester. Where college students crammed their heads in trying to understand 200+ slides of lecture before their test the next morning. Assignments deadlines approaching and quizzes seemed never ending. That was the case for almost all students and one of the courses taking the heavy hitters was engineering.

(m/n) (l/n) had been away from his friends, closer to his groupmates, scrambling to finish their lab reports before the submission link was closed. He unfortunately had to give half-assed replies to most of his associates, especially his two love interests.

They had something, affectionate and it ran deep but the (h/c) never made a choice between the sun and the moon.

He didn't expect any visitors when a knock echoed on his wooden door to his room. (m/n), lax in shorts and a plain t-shirt opened it to find Daisuke smiling at him, a box of food in his hand.

"Figured you haven't had dinner yet." His dimples carved into his cheeks as he smiled, his dark-hued eyes gleaming down at his beloved.

(m/n) smiled at him, bags forming under his own (e/c) eyes as he hugged the ravenette. "Already ate some leftovers but that's nice of you." "Really? Then just keep these in your pantry." He meant the shared pantry of his house, a section of his block on the same floor, which (m/n) did not prefer using since housemates always stole his shit.

"I'll just stuff it in Haru's freezer." "Where is he?" (m/n) invited Daisuke in, the ravenette tugging off his shoes, taking off his leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the corner of the shared room.

(m/n) slid back onto the chair, facing his desk as he picked up his tablet pen, continuing to write numbers and equations on the surface of his gadget. "He went home. Said he had a concert to catch." "In exam season?" "Dude's crazy."

Haru was (m/n)'s roommate, a tall quiet blonde who was with the (h/c) way back since preschool. He always disliked (m/n) bringing his so-called lovers into his room, especially Sousuke." A racket from his doorknow followed by annoying and fast knocks on his door.

(m/n) was about to stand once again but Daisuke beat him to it, pulling the door open with a frown on his face.

Sousuke, whose half of his face was covered with a green checkered scarf, glared immediately at the equally annoyed ravenette. A plastic bag bunched up in his clenced fist. "Whatchu' got there?" Hazel eyes perked up at the sight of (m/n) behind Daisuke and he pushed the latter aside to enter the room, throwing his coat on Haru's bed.

"You said your graph papers were out. Passed by and thought I could get some." (m/n) giddily reached out for the plastic bag, pulling out the almost scrunched green checkered papers. "Thanks. Almost went down to buy some."

Sousuke leaned to kiss (m/n)'s hair but was pushed by Daisuke. They both almost wrangled each other in the process but both were slapped by the (h/c) who forced the two to sit on his bed before he could entertain them.

"The submission is in four hours and there's zero progress on the abstract. I'm too busy organizing the others so either you shut up or get out." Immediately, the two sat up straight with their mouths closed. The two was easy for (m/n) to handle. They were almost alike, although the opposites of each other.

The (h/c) continued to grind his work, turning on his laptop. Ears stuffed with earbuds, some tunes blasting in his ear canal, drowning out the rare civil conversation Sousuke and Daisuke were having while relaxing on his single-sized bed.

Every now and then, there would a groan or a curse from the frustrated (h/c) who was suffering at the incompetency of his assigned groupmates. His leg bouncing up and down, his foot hitting the floor as he mashed the keyboards of his laptop, desperate to finish his work.

An hour passed and he stretched his arms, pulling off the charger to his laptop and took it with him as he slumped himself on the bed, his head in Daisuke's lap and his legs draped over Sousuke's torso. The redhead sat up as he pulled the (h/c) closer who slapped his hand away. "I'm not finished. Fucking hell, who passed these assholes?!"

He placed the laptop on his thighs, still typing away as Daisuke ran his fingers through his hair, occasionaly raking out a tangled strand or two. "I'm gonna die with the integrated project." (m/n) groaned, backspacing his teammate's work before proceeding to paraphrasing the previous sentences.

Sousuke and Daisuke continued to talk to one another, (m/n) chirping in while laying in between them, his bottom now in between Sousuke's thighs, he could feel the hardness of the redhead's jeans poking through but a boner isn't going to score his GPA.

"FINALLY!!" He yelled out, submitting his work as he slammed the laptop shut and carefully placing it on the floor. "You done?" Daisuke hummed, pushing back (m/n)'s baby hairs. The (h/c) nodded, his arm over his eyes as he could feel his body finally relaxing, sinking into the plush of his bed.

"I HATE....freeriders." "One's right in front of you." "I am not. I just so happen not liking to lead." In order of (m/n), Daisuke and Sousuke's voice. The two begin to banter once again. Daisuke bringing up his past experience working with Sousuke in a group project.

(m/n) pulled his arm away, staring at the popcorn ceiling of his dorm room, he had only noticed that it was already late. He wasn't even sure when Daisuke had entered his room. That's how much he had been holed up, finishing his homework.

He had been so tense the past few days, tension building up his shoulders, his tired eyes darkening for every missed hour of sleep. (m/n)'s whole body was so tired just from the past week and he could feel something burning up in the bottom of his stomach.

It was a fail attempt at secretly rubbing his ass onto Sousuke's crotch who immediately turned his attention onto the flustered (h/c). His mouth was agape as (m/n) stuttered to reason himself. "What?! Don't act so shocked...I'm just fucking frustrated."

He propped his elbows up, ready to leave before Daisuke pulled him down. "Frustrated? Frustrated what?" "College frustrated. Work frustrated, fuck. My damn pants are frustrated too."

Scarred fingers rubbed into the plush of his exposed thighs, reminding (m/n) that he had only adorned a thin and short outfit. Black eyes staring deeply into his, Daisuke's face was calculating, analysing his expression.

"You're not slick. Tryna' hump on me." Sousuke mumbled, dragging his tongue across (m/n)'s inner thigh earning a squeak. "As if. The both of you kept arguing like children. I might as well suck off a sex toy if that's all you're going to do."

"Sex toy?" Sousuke raised an eyebrow. A smirk on his lips. "Like you'd be satisfied with just that." He grumbled, smacking his thigh, a yelp from the (h/c) who felt something hardened as his head was still in Daisuke's lap.

"Quit it and just get on with it." (m/n) mumbled, turning to the side, his legs kicking at the redhead whose lust grew a thousand times more fervent as he pulled the (h/c)'s waist, ass smacking right on his crotch as he teased (m/n) who smothered his face into Daisuke's thigh.

(m/n) was now on his stomach, refusing to acknowledge Sousuke who was coercing him to continue. It was a rare dynamic. Sousuke would be quiet during their intimate encounters but his mouth becomes oddly chatter-ish around Daisuke who was the opposite.

"Just a little push. You did it five minutes ago, you can do it now." Sousuke was persuading (m/n) to rub himself on the redhead's crotch, his jeans stretching holding his length and (m/n) peeked behind him to see a grinning horny idiot.

"You're a cunt..." He mumbled again before moving. Rubbing his butt covered with shorts on Sousuke's groin, dragging his mound, pushing down on his erection. He could feel the friction on his balls as hos shorts was tugged down lightly just so his tip was peeking from his waistband.

(m/n) looked up to see Daisuke as the culprit, who was still silent, watching him with a blank expression but behind his eyes spoke otherwise. Their lust was burning and so was his.

Sousuke moaned, his hands rubbing up (m/n)'s sides as he pushed up his shirt, fingers travelling and locking onto his nipples, pinching them. The (h/c) mewled, having his chest groped as he desperately humped himself on the redhead's covered cock, slamming short bounces against Sousuke.

"I need it. I need the real thing." He whined desperately, his pitch tuning high as he dipped his head into Daisuke's crotch. His tongue flat against the ravenette's slacks and his teeth barely grazing on the covered hard cock.

(m/n) yelped again when his torso was forcibly turned, his face hot and Sousuke had a perverted grin. "How bad d'you want it?" "Bad. Really f-fucking bad." His words slipped as his hips stuttered.

A hand abruptly gripped his chin as Sousuke forcefully pulled his shirt off of him. Two fingers knocked into his palate as the redhead shoved his hand up (m/n)'s mouth. "You want it? You wanna fuck the two of us? Breed yourself like a horny rabbit?"

The tip of his cock was flicked and (m/n) gagged painfully, but his pleasure spiked and precum drooled onto his own stomach. Daisuke pulled away from (m/n)'s cock as he began to cup the (h/c)'s pecs, his hand squeezing the mound.

(m/n) nodded his head, when Sousuke's fingers began to press deeper in his mouth as he felt the redhead hump his ass. His tongue desperately lapping at the rough digits as he gasped when the redhead pulled his hand away.

"Prep yourself. It's time you get to work." Sousuke grinned.

This wasn't supposed to be their dynamic. (m/n) was used to having the redhead prep him, eat his ass out and fuck him swiftly like the pillow princess that he is. Daisuke was the same too, except more foreplay and less tongue but he had never needed to prepare himself, letting the two work their way into him because it was usually them getting riled up, not the other way around.

But (m/n) was desperate as he shimmied his shorts down, tugging off the bunched clothing from his ankle as he shakily reached down. Sousuke pulled his shoulder to lay him on his side and the (h/c) could see his jeans stretched out holding in his cock that he wanted to stuff himself with so badly.

He wanted to complain that he was dry but Daisuke had pulled his legs up, folded him in half and spat directly on his asshole before letting him fall back onto the bed. (m/n) was shocked and the ravenette was still quiet, urging him to continue.

A finger pushed in past the tight rim of his hole and he whimpered at the dry feeling, carving himself while struggling to hold his leg up but Sousuke had propped it up himself, pushing his hand to cup under his knee, letting him fully exposed to the redhead.

"Mmnn...it kinda hurts- annh mmf nggh anh-" He was corrected by his own body when he accidentally grazed his own prostate. His hole was still dry but the scratchy feeling managed to still bring pleasure to his leaking cock as he put another finger in and began to masturbate in front of the two men.

His hips were moving as he gripped his bedsheets, moaning and mewling. He was taken aback when Sousuke licked a stripe up his crack and balls. The redhead sucked on his base before focusing on his filled and twitching hole.

Daisuke used that moment of shock to pull his hair, forcibly pulling his head up as he shoved his tongue down (m/n)'s throat. The latter gagging at the sudden attack and he sucked on the ravenette's wet muscle.

Sousuke was too busy munching, pushing (m/n)'s finger apart to spread his hole as he stuck his tongue inside. Sucking and spitting at the rim.

-

Ugh i lost the inspo when i fell asleep. Tell me if you want a finished version and ill reblog it to tell u mofos. 🤞🏼 waka-chan out.

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin

[sweetiesicheng]

wonwoo - all-nighter

word count : 532

happy happy birthday to wonu >.<

-

as you go through some flashcards, you feel someone tap the top of your head. you turn your head around and see your boyfriend standing behind you. you put the flash cards down and take your earbuds out. "what are you doing here?" you whisper.

"you didn't answer my texts, so i came to check up on you," wonwoo answers. "it's almost three," he mentions.

"i'm already set on staying up, so don't try to take me back to my dorm," you say to him.

wonwoo sighs and walks away to pull up a nearby chair. you resume studying while wonwoo sits down next to you. he takes his tablet out of his backpack and starts working on something, most likely something for one of his projects.

after you finish going through your flashcards, you go through a few sections of your notes. you peek at the time, realizing how committed you are to pulling an all-nighter. then, you look over at wonwoo, who is editing photos and watching an episode of a show via spilt screen.

wonwoo glances up and notices you looking at him. "yes?"

"just wanted to see what you're up to," you reply.

"i have photos to submit for class," he mentions while starting to work again. "i know i'm your handsome boyfriend but get back to studying," he says to you.

"i can't help it. you're a distraction," you say to him. he smiles and reaches forward to kiss your cheek. you face forward again and start studying again, pulling out more notecards and writing new flashcards to help you study later.

—

after awhile, you manage to finish studying all of the material you had planned on looking over. the wooden chair is not helping your body, so you stretch your arms and sigh in relief. you look out of a window and notice that the sky had brightened up a bit, but it was still before sunrise.

you look over at wonwoo, who is still on his tablet. you peek over and see him no longer working on editing but just watching a show. wonwoo notices you and pushes you away, trying to get you to study again. you lean towards him again, but he pushes you away again.

"i'm done studying," you mention.

he takes one of his earbuds out, "do you want to head home?" he asks.

"at this point, we might as well get breakfast at the dining hall," you reply.

"it's too early still. let's go to your dorm, and i'll cook breakfast for us. you should get some sleep," he says to you.

"but you haven't slept yet either. you need to sleep," you say to him.

"i don't have class today. that's why i came to the library to find you in the first place," he explains. "come on, let's go."

you two pack up and leave the library. the dining hall isn't too far away, and you see a few runners going through their routes around campus as you walk together.

"hey," you call out to wonwoo, "thanks for keeping me company."

wonwoo smiles, "no problem. glad i could be with you," he says and kisses your cheek.

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n) tells the dorm leaders that they're the most handsome person in Twisted Wonderland.

What was meant as an April Fool's joke somehow turns Night Raven College into a battlefield.

Idea by anon.

"Why did you go around and tell the dorm leaders out of all people that they're the most handsome person in the world? Why, (Y/n)?"

Deuce paced back and forth between the fire place and the couch of Ramshackle's living room, his hands crossed behind back. The frown on his face deepened even more when he found you lazily lounging on a nearby recliner.

"I thought it would be funny to see everyone's reaction!" you said and laughed to yourself. "And actually, seeing Riddle turn as red as his hair was hilarious. Also, you should have heard Idia's screaming through the tablet."

Ace's lips quirked upwards into a grin. "Okay, that does sound funny."

"Quit the yapping," Grim yelled from the other side of the living room. He had a few wooden boards in his arms and a hammer balanced on top. "I need help barricading the windows."

"Right." A hum of exasperation escaped Deuce's lips while he pointed into the direction where all the commotion was coming from. The noise must have originated from the main building, and the fact that it was still audible in the Ramshackle mansion was incredibly concerning. "I don't think you realise how dire the situation is out there."

"Did someone call me?" a newcomer suddenly asked.

All four of you whirled around to find Crowley standing by the entrance to the living room. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest. Without allowing you any time to react to his sudden appearance, he rushed over to your side with wide steps. His heavy shadow loomed over you.

"Oh, it's just you, Headmaster," you began and sat up. "How are you—"

He interrupted you with a dramatic sigh. "You truly offend me, my darling child." Without further explanation, he put his hand to his forehead and sank into the couch, right next to you.

"What?" You sat up straight. "What have I done now?"

"You go around telling the dorm leaders that they're the most handsome person in the world! But you forgot about me?" A playfully offended frown decorated his face. When the resident ghosts dared to peek around the corner in curiosity, he addressed them immediately, "Did the prefect also compliment you three?"

"Of course!" the ghost in the middle exclaimed dreamily. His eyes practically took the shape of hearts when he put his hands to his chest. "My heart began beating so quickly, I thought I had come back from the dead. The prefect truly has a way with charming people, dead or alive."

His reply had the headmaster sink into the cushions of his seat even further. "Oh, how you wound me..."

Deuce furrowed his eyebrows in innocent confusion. "Is that why you came here, Headmaster?"

At his words, Crowley lazily rose to his feet again and straightened his cloak. "Partly, yes." He cleared his throat, although he sent you one last glare before moving on, "I also came because the entire campus is a warzone. The dorms have decided to band together and fight against each other to defend their leader's honour. Everyone thinks the others are lying."

"See?" Grim pointed to the windows he had already barricaded. "And you think I'm the one overreacting?"

The volume of his voice had you rolling your eyes. "Calm down, everyone." Then, you finally summoned the willpower to rise to your feet. "Can't I just talk to them?"

"You must, since you are the perpetrator."

A rush of annoyance came over you. The constant noise from the main building caused a headache to form. You rubbed the bridge of your nose. "It was just an April Fool's joke... I didn't think anyone would take it this seriously," you muttered in resignation. "These boys... Fine, I'll go out and clear things up."

Grim stopped you before you could leave the living room. His large blue eyes shone meaningfully. "Henchhuman, just in case you don't return, I wanted to tell you that..." he trailed off and took your hand into his paws. "I'll be taking your favourite scarf! You won't need it anymore, right?"

At once, you ripped your hands out of his grasp. "You're an idiot, Grim," you grumbled and simply walked around him to exit the building.

Deuce came rushing after you. "We'll accompany you, (Y/n). That's what friends are there for."

"Really? Do we have to?" Ace asked with raised eyebrows. He seemed reluctant, still remaining by the fire place where he had last stopped pacing. But even he wasn't immune to Deuce's pressing gaze, and with the headmaster joining in, he was done for. Begrudingly throwing his hands into the air, he joined your side. "Fine..."

"I'll stay here," Grim yelled after the three of you, "to make sure they don't break in and steal my tuna."

"They're in the Hall of Mirrors. Please stop them before they destroy my prized mirrors!"

°

°

°

"I knew you were a schemer, Azul. But I didn't take you for a liar."

"You call me a liar, Riddle? Me and my business are very much trustworthy. The same couldn't be said about you, though."

You arrived in the Hall of Mirrors not a second too late. The place was packed to the brim with students from every dorm. Just blinking once had been enough to lose track of Ace and Deuce. And by now, you had given up on finding them in this huge mass of people. You would have never thought that you would one day see so many people fit into this hall. But here you were, struggling to make your presence known with the loud and large crowd.

You could already see most of the dorm leaders facing off against each other in the very middle, where the students had formed a pit. But none of them seemed to hear your voice over all the murmuring.

"Come on, let's get this over with quickly," Leona said and rolled his eyes. "As soon as we have established that you're all in the wrong, I can go back to doing something more productive, such as napping."

"Guys, why can't we all be the most handsome person in the world together? I'd be open to sharing the title," Kalim said in worry when he noticed how everyone's voice dripped with malice.

"As a matter of fact, 'most handsome' is the superlative form and implies that the title is exclusively reserved for one person only." Everyone's eyes solely lay on Malleus as he spoke, his deep and calm voice bouncing off the walls to reach your ears. The air turned cold out of a sudden, and nobody dared to whisper even a single word — not even you.

But Rook dared to cut through the tangible air with his cheery voice. "Oh, a fight for beauty! This battle will be legendary!" he exclaimed in excitement, as if he had been born for this very moment. "I will gladly defend your honour, Vil."

His dorm leader didn't seem to reciprocate his enthusiasm, however. "Quit it, Rook. We all know that the prefect's compliment for all of us was in mere vain — a joke to gauge our reaction," Vil said and flicked his wrist elegantly. "Tell everyone to return to whatever they were doing previously, I have more important matters to attend to."

"Ortho, can you get me more popcorn—" a voice came from the floating tablet in the first row. An embrassed shriek escaped its speakers once everyone turned their attention to it. "Oh, I forgot to mute... Sorry, everyone." And on cue, the speakers went silent.

An awkward cough went through the crowd, but the dorm leaders quickly returned to facing off against each other.

"So, shall we begin?"

"I suppose."

Just as one was about to make the first move, you managed to stumble into the middle of the pit. "No, stop it!" you yelled at the top of your lungs.

A round of gasps went through the crowd, and everyone's eyes widened in surprise at your sudden arrival. Vil was the only exception. "Ah, the prefect has arrived," the dorm leader drawled. Knowing chuckles escaped his perfectly painted lips. "Now, would you mind enlightening the others about your little joke?"

"Right, tell the others who you really think is the most handsome."

"Yes, I want to see the grins wiped off their faces."

You hated yourself after having gazed upon their expectant faces. Most of them wore a pair of puppy eyes that gleamed brightly with eagerness. Unable to face them, you lowered your gaze in shame. "Actually, I told every one of you that you were the most handsome person in Twisted Wonderland." Nervous chuckles escaped your lips when the entire hall went deadly silent. You raised your hands into the air defensively. "Please, it was just a joke. Today is April Fool's, guys."

Riddle clicked his tongue. "A punishment for unfunny jokes is in order."

"You hurt our feelings, (Y/n)!" Kalim cried out and put his hands on his hips. When Jamil handed him a handkerchief, the dorm leader blew his nose loudly.

An unreadable smile appeared on Azul's face. "Perhaps it is time we banded together," he suggested, as if negotiating for a contract.

Your smile turned more nervous by the second, especially when they began to circle you. "Guys? It was kinda funny, don't you think?" you said, suddenly unable to hold in your laughter anymore. "Your reactions were priceless."

"Get the prefect!" everyone yelled at once.

[yourfriendowlbear]

Name Day

Astarion x gn!reader

Summary: It's your name day. Astarion wants to do something special for you.

today is my birthday, so I figured I'd write something a little self-indulgent

It’s your name day, and Astarion has been frantic

He doesn’t remember much about his life before Cazador, but he knows that birthdays are a big fucking deal for elves

And whether you’re an elf or not, he wants to do something. If you are an elf, it’s all the more important for him to celebrate accordingly.

He’s freaking out. What in the hells does he do for you? What in the hells can he get you? 

He’s more than happy to buy you anything–he’s more than happy to steal you anything, but you have everything reasonable that you could want.

Nothing seems good enough for you. He knows that you’ll more than likely love whatever he ends up with, but that doesn’t mean he’s cutting himself any slack.

He’s so desperate that he goes to Gale. He’s got ideas, but he’s just a vampire with limited resources and limited nighttime hours. He knows when he’s at a disadvantage, and though he’s loathe to ask for help, he isn’t willing to fumble this.

So he convinces you to visit Waterdeep and to drop in on your wizard friend, who has insisted on numerous occasions that you’re more than welcome at his tower any time.

It takes a few days, but Gale does manage to enchant something for Astarion to gift you. The wizard had helped him plan it, and he’d basically had to create the enchantment from the ground up. It’s beautiful, and he absolutely cannot wait to give it to you.

The day of your birthday arrives, and you’re at your shared home in Bloomridge, in the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. The house–like many of the homes in the neighborhood–is built onto the side of the city wall. It’s small but not cramped, with a large, inviting kitchen, a cozy drawing room, and two bedrooms. Two balconies–one off the main bedroom, one off the drawing room–look out over the city and Grey Harbor.

Astarion is nervous, and he’s never been more glad to not have a heart, since it would probably give him away.

It’s evening. The two of you have just gotten up. You’re sitting out on the balcony, curled up on the outdoor settee. There’s a lantern hanging on a hook above you as you read. Astarion’s arm rests around your shoulders, a book clasped in his other hand. You’re nestled into his side, a barely held together ancient tome in your lap. Scratch lays on the ground in front of the settee, head on his paws.

A raucous laughter pierces through the foggy evening. Karlach and Lae’zel are the first to appear on the stairs.

Leave it to your merry band of misfits to disrupt the peace of your little neighborhood.

You’re off the couch and at the front door in a flash. Scratch gives a confused woof before trotting off after you. Astarion can hear you laughing as you let them all in.

By the time he can see you at the door, you’re being squeezed by Karlach. Gale stands, grinning, in the hall. Wordlessly, he nudges a package into Astarion’s hands.

Wyll has brought a cake. Lae’zel carries something that looks strangely like a sword wrapped in paper. Shadowheart has a little box.

As you lead them all in, Gale hands you a large bottle of Blackstaff wine.

You drink and laugh with these people who, over the course of only a few months, became your best friends. And as much as Astarion hates to admit it, he loves them for showing up for you.

Eventually, Karlach pushes you to open the presents they’ve brought. 

As expected, Lae’zel has brought you a Githyanki sword, a traditional gift for warriors on their name days. Shadowheart has brought you a necklace that she’s blessed.

Astarion saves his for last, sliding it into your lap when you’re laughing at something Wyll has said, your voices all a little louder from the wine. You look at him, a little confused, but you tear the paper off anyway.

You’re even more confused when you discover six stone tablets and wooden styluses inside.

Gale takes pity on you, and picks one up, using the stylus to write ‘happy name day, tav’ on one of the slates. You gasp when it appears on the other five almost immediately.

“So you can talk with everyone when you need to,” Astarion explains. He hates how soft his voice sounds, but gods above, he put a lot of thought into this. He so desperately wants you to like it.

But his fears evaporate when you launch out of your chair, your arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug. 

He laughs and hugs you back, relieved that, for once, he could give you something nice, something you deserve, so that he could show you just how cared for you are.

[mellowsadistic]

Couples Therapy - Part 1

After Angela cheats on her husband, she agrees to go to couples therapy with him, but each session with the therapist leaves her feeling less and less like a grown-up.

***

Angela tapped her foot impatiently while her husband spoke with the therapist privately, probably whining about how angry and betrayed he felt. They were both supposed to go in together in a moment, but for now she was stuck waiting in reception.

Really, she couldn’t understand why Eric was being so dramatic. It was only sex! It wasn’t as though she didn’t love him anymore. She just needed to have a little fun sometimes, that was all. They weren’t even thirty yet! He was twenty-eight and she was twenty-seven. Did he really expect her to settle down and stick to a single sexual partner when she was still so young?

But he’d insisted on seeing a marriage counsellor and she’d eventually agreed, albeit reluctantly. Their therapist was a man. How was he supposed to understand what it was like for a woman in her situation? And her first impressions of the office hadn’t been great either. The receptionist was a total bimbo!

Angela glanced over at her. She was dressed up like some bizarre fetish fantasy. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a pair of high pigtails, and her stripper-sized tits were crammed into a sparkly Disney princess top. Didn’t this place have a uniform? She looked like an overgrown six-year-old for goodness sake! And she’d been acting like one too when she’d tried to match their names to their booking. Her husband had been very patient with her stupid lisping voice and barely passable ability to read, but Angela had wanted to turn around and leave straight away. What kind of serious therapist’s office employed a woman like that?

At last the door opened, and the therapist stood in the doorway. He smiled kindly and gestured her to come inside.

“He’s weady for you now!” the bimbo receptionist chirped happily, looking up from what looked like a fashion magazine for tweens.

Angela rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

She went into the office and the therapist closed the door behind her. Eric was lounged on a sofa facing a hard-backed wooden chair, looking perfectly relaxed. Angela sat down next to her husband, leaving a few inches of space in between them.

The therapist didn’t take a seat in the wooden chair, however. He took a tablet from his desk in the corner and stood in front of Angela.

“Here,” he said, handing it to her. She looked down at the screen in her lap in confusion. What was this for? Some sort of presentation?

“I find that girls always get a bit nervous in my office,” he said, talking to her in a light, overly friendly tone, as if he was talking to a nursery-schooler. “This will help you relax, okay sweetie?”

Angela scowled. She was about to launch into a furious tirade. She couldn’t stand being talked down to! Who the hell did this man think he was? If he assumed most women were like his ditzy receptionist then he had another thing coming. But before she could say a word, the tablet in her lap came to life. Brilliant pastel colours swirled and spiralled on the screen, sinking into a single spot in the centre, and her complaints died in her throat. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was just so pretty…

“There we go,” said the therapist in that same sweet tone. “That always takes care of fussy little girls.”

“Is there anything I have to do?” Eric asked.

Angela felt strange. She was vaguely aware of the men’s words, but it was as though they were coming to her from the end of a very long tunnel. Her attention was focused on the dazzling lights on the screen.

“Not a thing. Let me do all the talking. Did you hear that, Angela? We’re going to have a little talk, okay sweetie? Nothing to be nervous about. I’m a trained professional, after all. We need to have a little talk about how you betrayed your husband. About how he found out you were cheating on him. Because that wasn’t very clever of you, was it Angela? Getting caught.”

Angela shook her head, not taking her eyes off the screen. “Not clever,” she echoed. It was true. She shouldn’t have been caught. She should have been more careful not to let him find out. Because even though there was nothing wrong with what she’d done, even though she was completely in the right, Eric wouldn’t understand.

“That’s right, Angela,” said the therapist. “You’ve been a very dumb bitch, haven’t you?”

Angela frowned. That didn’t sound right. Dumb bitch. Was it okay for the therapist to call her that?

“Look at the pretty sparkles, sweetie,” he encouraged, and Angela sank back into the swirling lights. “That’s right. You’re just a dumb bitch, Angela. All women are, but you especially. That’s okay though. You don’t know any better – you’re just girls.”

Angela knew vaguely that there was something she didn’t like about what the man was saying, but she was too engrossed in the swirling colours to care. His words were like background noise. She could understand them if she concentrated, but it was so hard to focus with the wonderful patterns in front of her.

“Yes, you’re just a girl, Angela. Just a silly little girl. A big child. It doesn’t matter if you do something wrong, because you can’t be held accountable for your actions, can you? You’re sweet and innocent.”

Angela nodded eagerly, a dim smile spreading across her face. She hadn’t done anything wrong. If she wasn’t so distracted by her tablet, she’d have smirked at Eric. His stupid attempt to guilt-trip her with marriage counselling was backfiring on him. The therapist was on her side.

“Besides,” the therapist continued. “You didn’t cheat on your husband anyway, did you Angela?”

Angela was confused. She had cheated on Eric. Was the therapist going to help her cover it up? But Eric already knew, didn’t he? Surely that wouldn’t work! The lights on the screen grew brighter. They were so, so pretty…

“You didn’t,” the therapist said again. “In fact, it’s completely impossible for you to have cheated on your husband. You know why, I’m sure. It’s because of your embarrassing bedwetting habit.”

Angela wrinkled her nose and started trying to shake her head in disgust. She didn’t wet the bed! The therapist must be confused. He must be mixing her up with some little girl. Maybe one of his other clients was some silly little bedwetter who needed to be reassured that everyone had accidents now and again, but that certainly wasn’t her.

“Don’t… I don’t wet the bed…” she mumbled. Her words felt heavy in her mouth. It was hard to think. She just wanted to watch the pretty swirling lights.

“Look at the colours, sweetie,” the therapist told her. “That’s a good girl. You are a bedwetter, Angela. You wet the bed every night. You have done for quite a few weeks now. And what man would want to sleep with a woman who still pisses herself in her sleep like a dumb toddler? You’re very lucky your husband puts up with your babyish behaviour, young lady.”

Angela’s face slackened as the spirals spun faster and faster. Lucky. She was a lucky girl. She was lucky to have a husband who put up with her bedwetting. Another man might leave his wife if she started peeing herself every night. Especially if she’d cheated on him too. But Eric didn’t know about that. Did he? It was strange. For a while Angela had been sure he did. And the therapist didn’t seem to know either. In fact, he thought it was impossible for a bedwetter like her to cheat on her husband! She blushed even more brightly. How had she done it? Angela frowned slightly. She didn’t know. She couldn’t remember clearly. But the therapist was right – who’d want to have sex with some stupid, bedwetting baby-woman? Why would anyone sleep with her when it meant waking up in piss-soaked sheets, or next to someone in a sopping wet diaper. Her special protection. Her baby pants. Was the therapist still talking? She tried to pay attention.

“…because your husband puts up with you in other ways too, doesn’t he?” he was saying. “It’s not just the bedwetting. You actually have quite a few silly, childish behaviours that no adult woman should reasonably be expected to have. You…”

Angela tuned out again. She could feel his words entering her ears, but her attention was focused entirely on the lights in her lap. So pretty. Such pretty lights…

When she came to, the tablet was gone, Eric was standing up and putting his coat on, and the therapist was looking at her with a satisfied expression on his face. Had she fallen asleep?

“Ready to go home?” Eric asked her brightly.

Angela smiled back, a little hesitantly. She’d thought she was in trouble, but maybe she’d just been confused. She was such a silly girl sometimes. Such a dumb bitch.

Eric held out his hand, and she took it. It felt nice to be holding onto him. It felt reassuring. He held her hand all the way back to their house, and while he walked, she couldn’t help herself from skipping along beside him.

[live-laugh-lenney]

How do you think George & Arthur would react to their girlfriend having an off day and being a bit emotional?

I feel like Arthur especially would be such a sweetheart about it 🥴

ohhh absolutely! he'd be the softest boyfriend. :((((

A R T H U R

arthur has a sixth sense.

he likes to pride himself on knowing when his girlfriend is having a bad day, knowing when his girlfriend feels ill, knowing when she just needs some comfort and some love without her asking for it verbally or delving deep into her feelings. he never goes digging for answers... he always lets her take her time, lets her enjoy the comfort he gives to her, lets her tell him on her own terms.

sometimes, he can tell through her texts.

when she gives him short answers, when she takes a while to send a text back to him, when she misses the 'x' at the end. when she gets to the point, when she's straight with him, not double-texting him... or even triple-texting.

sometimes, though, it's just a gut feeling.

and it's usually around that time of the month where all she wants is to feel warmth, love and comfort from those close to her. knowing that she caves in on herself when she first starts, when she feels the cramps begin, and all she wants is to be looked after without needing to ask him to grab her tampons or pads or sweet treats that she craves. to which he complies, of course.

he doesn't care how silly he looks when he's on the tube, with a bag in his hand that was full with boxes of tampons and pads, alongside an unusual amount of chocolate for one person and paracetamol to help soothe any of her aches and pains. a big bouquet of flowers in his hand that definitely draws attention to himself... but he doesn't seem to care as he stands looking at the floor with his airpods in his ears as he listens to music to pass the time.

and it's time like this where she's glad he had a key to her flat.

because there was no way she was leaving the warmth of her bath to answer the door if he knocked to only get back in moments later with a different feel the water than she had been accustomed to before. knowing that it was him when she heard the jangle of his keys fall in the bowl on the table beside her front door. colliding with the metal of her own keys that lay in the bottom of the wooden bowl.

hearing his footsteps thud around the open plan of her living space, the rustle of a bag being placed down on her kitchen island, hearing him step closer and closer to where her bedroom was. her bedroom door creaking as he steps inside and she was expecting his face to peek around the door to her en-suite.

"only me," he smiles, "had a feeling you'd be in here."

"how do you know i was in?"

"your keys and your shoes by the door," he points his thumb over his shoulder and she mentally facepalms herself for being stupid, "had a feeling you weren't feeling so good today, too."

"been a bit distant, haven't i?"

he steps into the bathroom, hit with the smell of cocoa and coconut from the bubbles in her bath, crouching down beside the tub and resting his forearms on the edge of the ceramic basin she was laid in.

"it's okay," he says softly, "i know you like the back of my hand now."

he dips his fingers into the water and feels how lukewarm it was and she frowns, knowing she'd had to stand up and leave the warmth she was soaking under and find another source of comfort to keep her nice and soothed. to keep her stomach from cramping. to keep her from curling over in aches that seemed to swallow her up whenever she moved.

"brought you some bits, as well," he informs her, standing to his feet and reaching for the towel she had draped over her towel rack, "some chocolate, some tablets, some tampons and that. i don't know if you have some already so... i can always take some back to mine."

she smiles as he stretches the towel out, waiting for her to stand to her feet so he can wrap her up tightly under the cotton, giving her a hug once her teeth start chattering at the chill in the air.

"thank you," she whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, "love you."

"anything for you," he replies and presses his lips to her forehead, "love you, too."

--

G E O R G E

george is oblivious.

but she hid it well, he had to admit.

she stands to her feet during the half-time show of the football game they had on the television, stepping passed the the two arthur's who were sat on the floor and leaning against the sofa and walking passed chris who was sat in the single chair sitting diagonal to the tv, leaving the warmth of george's body heat from where they had taken the sofa so they could lounge together. excusing herself by claiming she was using the toilet before disappearing for the second 45 minutes of the game.

it's only when arthur (hill) mentions that he was getting a numb bum and needed a sofa cushion that george realises she hadn't come back to fill the empty space beside him.

"we're about to watch a film out here, do you want to-"

he cuts his own question off once he sees the human-sized lump curled up underneath his duvet, hand holding the handle of his bedroom door as he pushes it open, his eyebrows furrowing on his browline in confusion.

"babe?"

"hmm?"

"you okay?" his voice comes out in a hushed tone, quiet and almost whispered and he steps into his room, leaving the door ajar, "did i wake you up?"

"no," she responds softly, tucking the duvet tighter around her body and she feels the bed dip beside her as george crawls across the top of the mattress, his arms coming to rest either side of her as his legs straddle her body and his face soon comes into her line of vision, "i'm okay, yeah."

he cocks an eyebrow and she smiles softly.

"i just needed some time to myself," she admits softly, craning her neck to look at him and she's met with the softest pair of eyes looking back at her, "thought i'd leave you lads to watch the football."

"really?"

the way the word lingers on his tongue makes it known to her that he can sense a change in her demeanour and she lets herself relax, her body rolling onto her back and there's a moment where his breath washes over her face and she feels more relaxed than she had done before.

"no but it's silly," she sighs and she mentally scolds herself for how shaky it sounds, "just feeling a little sad, i guess."

"why's that?"

"i don't know," she shrugs and he drops his head to press a kiss to her forehead, "think i'm just feeling all soft. today's been such a nice and comforting day with you guys and tomorrow, it just goes back to me being stressed with work and not seeing you and-"

she lets out a heavy sigh and watches as it catches his fringe.

"i guess i just want every day to be like today," she admits and he tuts at her, "what?"

"you're forgetting i'm your boyfriend. you can see me whenever you want, you silly goose," he leans his weight on one arm and brings his other up so he could cup her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek, "if you want to stay here then you can. the boys won't care. if you want to see me, just say so. you know that."

"i just don't want to be a burden," she says and he shakes his head, "i do, sometimes. i don't want to interrupt time with the guys out there."

"but you come first," he says, "always." xx

[cosmiiqueer]

replaying mcsm!

i havent touched this game in about 3 years and now im going back through it because i have terrible terrible brainrot

ep 1

-i still had the opening narration memorized oh my god

-THE OLD MINECRAFT TEXTURES DISTRACTED ME SO MUCH absdfkhsh i kept being like :0 old cobblestone texture! when i was supposed to be making choices

-the original oots are all so goofy

-REUBEN, ,, ,, gently holds. baby. protect baby at all costs.

-petra and lukas and their whole thing still make me so insane

-the animation has some really nice little details that i don't remember ever paying attention to before, like jesse's wooden sword breaking in half before poofing. it's a nice blend of minecraft logic and irl logic i think.

-also girl i KNOW you have the materials for a stone sword! you cannot convince me that wooden sword is your best option

-i played mcsm on a tablet in ye olde days, and even though i have played it on a computer before, im not fucking good at it !!! kept almost missing or fully missing arrows and embarrassing myself lmao

-i forgot how unnecessarily STACKED the va cast is like. matt mercer how did you get here

-i love ivor i love ivor so much he is so dramatic

-"ashley johnson sounds like she's trying really hard to sound cool" -my partner. ohhhh he's right. she does.

-i don't actually ship jesstra (kind of over shipping in general) but jesse having a huge dumbass crush on petra is a headcanon i still enjoy. she's silly.

-yes i always play as fem jesse i simply cannot handle oswald's voice for long stretches of time

-I LOVE THE MUSIC SO MUCH, ,, I REALLY MISSED IT. it's so GOOD. i love how many characters and things have their distinct themes, i love how it sounds similar to minecraft music, i'm just literally obsessed with it. ep 1 alone doesn't really have tracks that i go specifically insane over (thats more in s2) but boy does it have some iconic ones. like look me in the eyes and tell me ivor's theme isn't iconic. you can't.

-like i forgot how melancholic the order's temple track is?? that one gave me the most intense 'im still fourteen playing this game for the first time' feeling that i really wasn't expecting

-who in the ocelots had the legit redstone knowledge to make a working rainbow beacon. which one. i need to know.

-truly love the moment of lukas being like "if you're cool with petra, you're cool with us :D" while the other three are standing behind him, VISIBLY not cool with you. peak comedy.

-axel and olivia are the funniest bitches here. some of the jokes fall pretty flat but they definitely have the most lines that do make me laugh

-lukas and axel are such highschool mean girls to each other. calm down.

-heading to Boomtown because i literally don't remember a thing about it lmao

-i still love this game a lot. i stopped hyperfixating on it around 2019-2020, and replaying it back in 2021 didn't rekindle the intense interest i used to have in it. but god, i missed it a lot. i think it's really fun to rediscover something you used to love so much and i'm looking forward to continuing when i have time

[the-californicationist]

Gunslinger (an excerpt from Chapter 05)

AO3 Link - MDNI

You and John Price had been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, but when you hide a pair of panties under his pillow one night, the hunter becomes the hunted.

... you left one lace thong under his pillow. It was white with a pink bow. The strings on the side were satin. Laying crumpled there, between the sham and the sheet, you looked forward to whatever happened. Good or bad. Any reaction from this man would be enough to satisfy your craving to see him undone. How far could a patient man be pushed?

The captain was downstairs, sitting at your table, talking over a tablet with Ghost. As you made your way through the small den, you eyed him shamelessly, daring him, and he saw you, a suspicious look on his face, though not obvious enough for anyone else to notice.

But you were both existing on the same plane, living your lives so closely to one another, vibrating at the same frequency, your atoms dancing at the same intensity, that even if he only imagined a word that he wanted to say to you, you’d know what it was. You’d hear it in the quiet parts of your mind. If he breathed too deeply or stared too long at this or that, you’d notice. Hyper aware of each and every movement that the other was making, stalking each other like wolves, hidden in the trees.

You headed upstairs and lay awake as long as you could, trying to stay up to witness his reaction. Maybe he’d be disappointed. Maybe he’d chastise you like you were a child who didn’t know better. Maybe he’d take your teasing too far. Maybe, and this was the worst one, he might just ignore you.

It wasn’t until you heard him crawl his way up the stairs that you heard his answer.

No one knew the sounds of this house better than you. You’d hid hundreds of people in its very walls. You knew every floorboard and furnishing by heart.

You heard him in the hallway outside your room, walking carefully to his door, and listened to him click open the handle. He was inside. You knew the moment he sat on the edge of the bed with the sound that the mattress made, sighing under his heavy weight.

You could hear his rustling, pushing the quilt back, and you heard him sinking down fully into the covers. Then, silence, but not the relaxed sort.

A sigh, ragged and long.

Another. Full of turmoil.

His feet swung around and touched the floor again, the wooden planks there betraying his movement. You thought he might burst into your room to politely deliver them back to you in that restrained, gentleman’s manner he had. But, he didn’t. He was just sitting there.

It felt like hours had passed before your ears, straining, caught his next sound.

It was another sigh, and then...  a groan.

The sticky popping of skin touching slick skin. Repeated. Iterative. Rhythmic.

The bed moved, barely an inch, rocking in place.

Wet little whispers revealed that his hot palm was pumping, steadily, down his shaft, using the source of fluid from its drooling head to ease the path. He rubbed it along his length. The wet noises became frantic.

More rustling of sheets.

He moaned louder this time. You felt the hair on your arms and neck stand up, shocked, awestruck. You were barely able to breathe.

His movements became desperate, the noises of a body that was working itself to a fever, growing more and more obvious as his reservations surrendered to pleasure.

The bed jostled. His feet pressed against the floor.

The grunting you heard was that of an enraged grizzly, panting roughly, blowing scalding air through his nostrils. You imagined his bearded cheeks hollowed from sucking in a breath, braying in a short, shouted cry. Face contorted with hot agony, his sticky release spilled from his rigid font.

Then, satisfied sighing.

Out of breath.

Spent.

Your blood was pounding in your ears, and your head swam with a loud rushing noise as your heart banged against your chest. It was too much to bear. Your dreams had become too real.

The bed creaked again. You held your breath.

Price was in the bathroom then, mere feet from you, moving around, running the water.

As you watched his feet cast shadows below the door frame, you saw him step toward you, hesitating. But, he didn’t touch the handle. He simply backed away and cut the light, keeping himself from you.

...

[goldnhourwrites]

Not enough people talked about these so I'm gonna do it myself because oh my god (commentary and headcanons below, it's just long)

Sett has a little travel-sized sewing kit in his bag... it's so tidy... sett stitching things back together when his bandmates rip them...

Sett just casually carries around like 20+ pounds of dumbbells. Mans is literally always working out. The grind never stops.

"yo Ezreal can you grab my bag for me?" "Yeah sure--what the FUCK do you have in here? This thing weighs a hundred pounds."

His little exercise headband... and is that a hair tie behind it? Sett with his hair tied back??

Sett's energy bar collection. Sett's the type of person to pack an entire backpack full of snacks for a road trip.

Ezreal has a plushie OF HIMSELF on his bag.

this guy practically collects aesthetic glasses. 3 pairs in the bag plus the circle ones he had in PARANOIA.

Sharpie (for signing autographs???) His signature on the polaroids of himself???

The photo under the lip balm looks like it might be Ezreal and Aphelios. Ezreal's the type of person to make sure he has photos with all of his friends. Ezreal hanging up his favorite polaroids in his room.

can we talk about the all-white fit in the very bottom photo omg

Aphelios has back-up headphones for his headphones.

WHO SENT THE SNACKS. WAS IT ALUNE. WAS IT SOMEONE ELSE.

The writing on the note looks like Korean but unfortunately I don't know any Korean :(

his sticky noted book... is it a journal? is it full of lyrics? who put the little smiley face sticker on the front!! does he write in it!!

I love the idea of Aphelios just pulling out a little keyboard whenever he wants to write down a tune. How well can he play the piano? Only enough to write music, or does he have songs memorized? Does he ever play for anyone?

K'SANTE'S DRAWING TABLET

he's not just in charge of putting together their fashion, he designs it himself. i'm going to scream

I am in love with those glasses. I need art of k'sante in those glasses ASAP. i will do it myself if i have to.

What is his book!! What does the W stand for!!

The way the button on his gloves matches the one on his jacket in his LoL splash art. This tiny detail is driving me insane.

Also, the cologne? The top is the same as his necklace? Does he have a specific personal cologne? So elegant...

Kayn's Pentakill guitar pick. Let me see him play the guitar I beg

The crumpled up receipts. This man goes Shopping (also see: cash, various coins). And he just has a bunch of random shit in his bag because he never bothers cleaning it out.

the open leaking bottle of hair dye. please. do you NEED that

The random jewelry... I love the idea of him either a) taking it off, shoving it in his bag, and forgetting where he put it or b) bringing backup drip with him everywhere in case he needs more

While Sett, Aphelios, and Yone all opted for headphones, Kayn's gone with good old-fashioned corded earbuds. Does he not like headphones? Is it because they mess up his hair?

Big ass box of matches and For Why? Does he smoke? Is he too cool to carry around a lighter? Does he just like setting shit on fire?

Yone keeps a little emergency travel kit. Band mom energy. He's got band-aids and a toothbrush and toothpaste At The Ready.

Bottle of lotion? Yone with a skincare routine? Yone who stays moisturized? Everybody in Heartsteel asking Yone for lotion?

Earplugs (for sleeping on long bus rides, maybe?) I want to see Yone going "I'm sick of this shit" and tuning the fuck out.

Yone is the only one with a real headphone case. Aphelios has his around his neck 24/7, but his wireless earbuds have a case. Sett's just shoving his in there with twenty pounds of dumbbells and hoping for the best.

Yone's got so many little gadgets and I don't even know what they all are. He has his laptop and (probably) his phone, plus a smartwatch, and maybe a portable charger? He's that prepared.

I can't tell what the object beside his smartwatch is (looks wooden?) If anyone knows, let me know? I'm so curious

This man's got even more stuff inside his bag. Yone doesn't leave the house without like fifteen things in case of an emergency.

good news everyone. i'm still losing my mind over them

[m0use123]

Asami woke up groggily, feeling something wasn't right, she sat up on the edge of her bed and slipped her feet into her awaiting slippers.

She glanced around her spacious bedroom, the full moon was shining brightly into the space, her balcony doors were open and the silk white curtains were flowing gently in the wind.

The roar of the sea was loud in the quiet night, her alarm clock on her bedside table read 1:15 am. She scanned the room looking for any obvious signs of why she had been dragged out of her heavy sleep so easily.

Her television was turned off, her phone, laptop and tablet were all charging on the far opposite side of the room so she wouldn't be tempted to glance at them when she should be sleeping.

Her desk lamp was off, her sketches for her father were scattered haphazardly ontop of it, the top pages ripperling slightly in the fresh sea breeze.

All in all everything was in it's correct place.

Totally stumped the young heiress decided to grab herself a glass of water before trying for sleep again. So she slipped on her RCH cheerleading hoodie and crepted downstairs without turning on any lights, she didn't want to wake up her friends that were sleeping in the other rooms around her.

Once in the kitchen, Asami collected a clean glass from the draining board next to the sink and poured herself a glass. She lent on the kitchen counter top as she took small sips of her water, watching the sea crash against the shore line through the window not 100 yards away.

As she watched, her eyes landed on a figure standing knee deep in the surf, they were scimming stones across the waves of the ocean. A boisterous dog was lolaping around the person diving nose first into the water excitedly in search of the stones.

As the person turned and stretched extravagantly, Asami reckonised her girlfriend Korra in the moon light. Wondering if her leaving through the back door had woken her in the first place, Asami opened the kitchen door. Welcoming the warm sea breeze that engulfed her as she stepped onto the wooden decking outside the back door.

She crossed the garden until she reached the back gate that backed out onto the soft sandy beach beyond, she took off her slippers and left them on the grass next to the gate where she wouldn't get sand in them and crossed the dunes until she reached her girlfriend.

"You're up late" Asami commented as she came to a stop next to her girlfriend.

Korra glanced sideways at her and smiled slightly, "Alot on my mind is all", Asami nodded. That was the thing about Korra, she wore her heart on her sleeve, but words weren't exactly her foretay. If she actually wanted to know what was going on in the younger girl's head she knew she would have to probe a little deeper.

"Penny for your thoughts then"? Asami asked, leaning down and stroking Naga's head as she trotted over panting excitedly.

Out of the corner of her eye Asami saw Korra shrug before she pulled her arm back and threw a stone as far as she could, it sploused loudly about 200 yards away.

Asami sighed, "Babe, if you don't want to talk to me about it that's cool, but please don't stand there and sulk all night, I don't mean to sound harsh but either spit it out or come back inside, but don't just stand here all night trapped in your own head".

Korra nodded, she gave a massive, defeated sigh and mumbled something the older girl couldn't hear.

"Sorry babe I need you to repeat that, you kinda mumbled".

Huffing through her nose Korra said, "I'm just thinking about next year".

Asami's heart sank, of course, it was obvious now, Asami was heading off to university in Zaofu in September whilst Korra was starting her senior year of high-school. For the first time since Korra was born they wouldn't see eachother every day, and just the thought of it hurt like hell.

"Baby" Asami said sympatheticly, "why didn't you tell me sooner, what's going on in your head, talk to me".

Korra scoffed, "yeah right, here I am worried you'll realise how immature I am as soon as you reach your halls of residence at Zaofu and you want me to whine like a little kid about my problems".

Asami sighed and rested her hand on Korra's shoulder, "I don't think your immature Korra, well", she paused, then continued, "not in the way you're thinking about anyway. I don't care that we haven't slept together yet babe, you know that, and you don't drink because of your parents accident, I think that's very responsible of you".

Korra scoffed and muttered "damaged goods".

"Korra, stop" Asami said forcefully, "stop with the self hate, you've gone through so much in your life, don't be so hard on yourself".

"I just. I can't loose you as well" Korra said in a quiet voice.

"Your not going to baby, I promise".

"How can you possibly promise me that"? Korra asked.

"Because I believe in us, that's all I need" Asami said softly before pulling her girlfriend into a caring hug.

"I love you" Korra mumbled into her girlfriend's hoodie.

"I love you too baby, come on inside, I'll make us some hot chocolate" Asami smiled as she pulled back from the hug.

"Oh, oh, can I have those mini marshmallows in mine"? Korra asked, with the most adorable smile Asami had ever seen on her girlfriend's face.

"Of course baby, anything for you".

Together, the two girls and Naga went back up to the spacious beach house for hot chocolate, alot of cuddling and finally some sleep.

Just before she fell asleep with her younger girlfriend in her arms, Asami made a silent promise to herself, and the girl she loves, to never give up on what they have, right here in this bed.

- - - - - -

Five years later, as she was kneeling infront of her speechless girlfriend, asking her the most important question she's ever asked anyone. Asami Sato was so very grateful she was always a women of her word.

[frostfires-blog]

Traditional Symbolism in Jujutsu Kaisen Opening 4 - Specialz

[⚠️Warning: Possible small spoilers⚠️]

Hata-jirushi (旗印)

The white banners seen in the background of this scene are most likely Hata-jirushi (旗印). Hata-jirushi were the most commonly used war banners on medieval Japanese battlefields. The kanji used here “旗印” literally translates to “symbol flag”, “marker banner”, etc.… These war banners were generally simple streamers attached by a horizontal cross-piece to a shaft, unlike the later used nobori (幟) which were stiffened. Later, some hata-jirushi were hemmed on their sides and tops to better attach them to their poles in such a way that they were visible from the front. The purpose of these banners was to help identify and distinguish different army sections and regiments.  The use of them in this scene helps to set the tone of this arc which is essentially the start of a war between jujutsu sorcerers and cursed spirits.

Torii (鳥居)

In this panel, several characters are seen passing through a torii (鳥居). A torii is a traditional Japanese gate mostly found at the entrance of and within Shinto shrines. Torii gates are where kami are thought to travel through and are welcomed to the shrine. It is customary to walk to the side of a torii gate when passing through instead of walking down the center—as it is believed that only kami may pass through the center. The word torii derives from the term “tōri-iru” (通り入る) which roughly translates to “pass through and enter”. These structures mark the transition between the mundane, secular world and the sacred grounds of the shrine. Thus, passing through a torii gate can be thought of as “crossing into another dimension or entering into spiritual communion with nature”. Torii gates act as both a physical barrier and spiritual guardian separating the profane from the sacred within its boundaries. Therefore, it is believed that those who pass through one, are cleansed of their worldly worries and enter a realm of tranquillity and peace. Aside from their religious significance, torii gates hold other more abstract meanings such as providing good fortune, hope, purity, and protection from evil spirits. In this panel, as the characters pass underneath the torii it signifies their crossing from the physical to the spiritual world—which could refer to them traveling down the path to enlightenment or death. Since torii are also believed to provide good fortune and protection from evil spirits, the characters passing under one could be a sort of send-off ritual before the battle to ensure their safety.

Ōnusa (大幣)

In addition to more hata-jirushi, we can see an ōnusa (大幣)—also known as a nusa (幣) or a Taima (大幣)—a wooden wand used in traditional Shinto purification rituals in this panel. Ōnusa are embellished with shide (paper streamers). The wand is also referred to as a  (祓串) when the shide are connected to a hexagonal or octagonal staff. It is believed that impurities are transferred from the person or thing to be purified to the ōnusa by waving the ōnusa left, right, then left again. The usage of them in this scene adds to the traditional imagery and the idea that something significant is about to happen that will require the characters to purify their minds and steel their resolve.

Nokotsudo (納骨堂)

In this scene, Itadori is seen standing in front of a nokotsudo (納骨堂) which is a Japanese ossuary. A nokotsudo is known as a “nokotsuden” or “reido” and is a building in which the remains of cremation are kept. Nokotsudo are generally built in the precincts of temples and are equipped with lockers to keep the remains and are occasionally equipped with Buddhist altars above these lockers to place Buddhist mortuary tablets. This scene portrays Itadori breaking down in front of a nokotsudo. This could either refer to him facing the ashes of the people Sukuna killed using his body—or perhaps more improbably the scene depicts him being confronted with the fact that his grandfather's wish has inadvertently led him down this troubled path.

Joss paper (金紙)

The rounded pieces of paper falling from the sky in this scene are likely pieces of joss paper (金紙). These are typically sheets of paper or papercrafts which are used as burnt offerings in ancestral worship as well as the veneration of deceased relatives on special holidays in Asia. Joss paper is typically printed with various representations of worldly goods such as money, houses, cars, credit cards, etc.… Joss paper is burnt at Asian funerals “to ensure that the deceased’s spirit has sufficient means in the afterlife”. In wuxia and xianxia C-dramas, joss paper is often seen falling from the scene during scenes in which the reanimated and ghostly beings invade the world of the living—which is somewhat similar to the setting in this scene with Megumi meeting his reanimated father. Additionally, it was partly Toji's pursuit of money that led to his death, taking him away from his son, so it is somewhat ironic to have joss paper raining down on him.

[P.S. A few people have been analysing this opening on other platforms, but I wanted to touch on some of the more obscure cultural nuances... I am not Japanese, so this is based off of my own research, so I apologise if I miss anything or get anything wrong. Feel free to make corrections or additions in the comments and reblogs respectively.]

[ivanttakethis]

Before Round 26 - Tov’s Log

Tov (?) vs. Akane (?) -> ??? Win

————————————————————

Tov doesn’t go to the practice rooms often. She doesn’t play an instrument and has no interest in learning.

But there’s music echoing down the hall as she passes by, and curiosity gets the better of her.

The door to Practice Room #1 is propped open. Sunlight from the window inside pours into the hallway, along with the music she’d been hearing.

It’s gentle. Melodious.

Almost angelic.

Tov has never heard anything quite like it before.

But what kind of instrument could produce gentle music like that?

It doesn’t sound like Nyx’s bass, or Khoi’s violin.

Tov steps closer to the open door and peeks inside.

In the middle of the room is a large, curved wooden frame, with dozens of strings pulled taught across its hollow center, like the inside of a piano standing straight up.

Tallis sits on a small bench at the base of the instrument, plucking the strings with deft fingers and closed eyes.

She lingers in the doorway, watching him play with rapt attention.

The song was beautiful, captivating even. But there was something… else that kept her attention; an unfamiliar feeling in her chest.

Tov didn’t have a name for it.

Maybe it’s for the same reason that her gaze lingers on his face more than his hands.

Tallis suddenly stops playing, his eyes fluttering open. He shifts in his seat and moves to look over at the her.

She quickly steps behind the door to hide, holding her breath.

Waiting.

“I know someone’s there.” He calls out.

She doesn’t move.

Tallis sighs, “It’s okay to come out. I don’t mind.”

It’s Tov’s turn to sigh. She comes out from her hiding place, hands tucked behind her back.

Tallis’s eyes widen as they meet hers.

“Oh.” He says, “Hi.”

“Hi.” She says back.

Normally, this is where Himei would take the reins of the conversation, sweeping both of them up in her endless, energetic chatter.

But Himei’s guardian had taken her out of The Garden for the day.

Now it was just the two of them.

Tov enjoyed silence, unlike most children her age. Though she detested silence in the presence of others.

It was different with Tallis.

Silence between them was always comfortable.

Only Tov’s seemingly endless want to learn about any and everything that catches her attention compels her to break it, “What kind of instrument is that?”

“A harp.” He says, “It’s a string instrument, like a guitar. But it has pedals like a piano.”

Tov turns her attention to the harp, tilting her head slightly to the side as she examines the instrument with new insight.

It looks far more complex to play than a guitar or a piano. More strings. More pedals. And Tallis had been playing with his eyes closed.

“Do you… want to come and sit?” He asks.

Tov blinks free of her thoughts, looking back at him.

The offer catches her off guard. She can’t remember if they’ve ever intentionally spent time together without Himei.

She nods, “Sure.”

Tallis moves over to one side of the bench and she sits down beside him.

The harp is much bigger up close.

“What were you playing earlier?” She asks. “It sounded nice.”

“Just a practice piece. I’m not that good at it though.”

Tov frowns at that.

She just watched him play a complex instrument twice his size without even looking at the strings or missing a note.

It would be incongruous to think Tallis wasn’t good at this.

“You’re very talented.” She says, matter of fact.

Tallis stiffens, looking away from her and bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

His cheeks turn pink.

It makes his freckles stand out more.

“Uh, thank you.” He says quietly.

“You’re welcome.”

“I-I can play something else, if you want?”

Tov doesn’t hesitate to answer, smiling a little, “Sure.”

————————————————————

Tov awoke the next morning on top of her covers, clutching her tablet to her chest.

The battery was dead.

In the time it took to charge, Tov wondered if she imagined everything that had happened the night before.

The nightmare.

The message.

The song.

Was it real, or was it some sort of coping mechanism her mind concocted to keep itself from spiraling?

How could Tallis be alive?

Tov watched him get shot not once, but twice. She watched as they carried his body off stage.

Based on everything she’d read, alien technology far outstripped anything humans accomplished back on Earth.

But they were still fragile.

There were still ways they could be beyond saving.

Tallis surviving would’ve been a miracle.

Too much to hope for.

The tablet’s screen powered on again, displaying the same sheet music Tov saw before she fell asleep.

Her heart leaped forward, straining against her ribcage, trying to escape, to get to something— someone.

Tallis was alive.

He had to be.

There was no other explanation for why she would be looking at sheet music for a song only one other person knew existed.

He was out there somewhere; still able to communicate with her, albeit not directly.

That only raised more questions.

Was he with the rebels? Had they saved him after his round?

No, that didn’t make sense.

Solei had just rescued Aurien the round before. Security was tight.

They wouldn’t have risked going back to save another contestant so soon.

Could a guard have saved him? Maybe as a favor for someone, like her secret benefactor?

She thought it was unlikely, but didn’t rule it out.

If she could corner one of the medics again, she’d ask them.

Between the two, Elias probably had more information. But he was tight lipped.

From their conversation, she gathered that he hadn’t even shared much with Prem.

Tov still wasn’t sure if she could trust them either. A topic for another time.

But if Tallis really was alive, and he was trying to signal to her, then she needed to figure out a way to convey that she got his message.

A call and response.

He used music to call out to her. It would only be fitting for her to use music to respond.

Maybe she could use the song he wrote somehow.

Final songs were due at midnight. There was still time to change her selection to include a coded message.

With a new fire burning in her chest, Tov grabbed a pair of headphones off her dresser and got to work.

Can you hear me?

Loud and clear.

————————————————————

The flashback took me forever to write, but I love how it turned out 🥹

It was the start of Tov and Tallis’s friendship independent of Himei, so it would be something Tov remembered easily.

Full disclosure, I know next to nothing about harps, so everything in this log is gleaned from a few cursory searches.

But yippee!! More Tovallis!! *cheering*

Also, I talked more about Tov and Tallis’s relationship dynamic in this non-canon AU of them singing Cure together, if you want to read that.

Tallis belongs to @lookatmysillies.

[warrenwitches3]

CHAPTER TWO

The walk of silence came to an end as they approached massive double doors that no doubt led to an even bigger room.

‘Like the my old castle back home’ the fair maiden held the doors to comparison, while the one at night raven college have a more dark rusty touch with the grand old wood doors, her castle doors back home were colourful and detailed taking at least over 3 months to make each with details of old stories made of clay and wood, the handles made of gold yet still able to swing open easily even with the sizes they were.

Voices speaking caught her attention and she stopped behind Crowley to wait and listen. He also seemed to be mosey as instead of going in he leaned his ear against the wall. ‘Maybe he wants to know if they realised his absence, he is headmaster after all’

~~~mirror chamber~~~

A short boy with red hair spoke up over the commotion of the other students talking. “We're done with orientation and dorm assignments?” He asked then turned to a group of students near him. “All right, new students—let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it's off with your head!” A few people seemed to flinch and step back from him a bit due to his voice raising with the last sentence, even the girl outside the door let out a squeal, although it sounded more like the bugle noise a swan makes.

“Yawn* Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I'm going back to the dorm. If you're in Savanaclaw House, follow me.” A boy with feline ears seemed to slope around the place ready to get out, his eyes were dropping, and dropping a bit more now, and now there closed, now he’s letting out what sounds like a snore. His dorm mates sweat dropped at that.

“New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.” The boy with glasses seems to really like his new dorm mates.

“Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony...” a pretty looking boy finally spoke up about the problem at hand, took them long enough to notice.

“Some headmage he is.” A voice came out of a tablet contradicting the headmage’s decision to leave.

“Maybe he had a tummyache?” An innocent looking boy with red eyes proposed an even more innocent answer. Suddenly the old wooden doors burst open and crowley stepped through martching to the front with a leashes up cat and a hooded student following behind him.

‘This must be an all boys academy, I see no women in sight’ the new information did not make the maiden any less nervous, she remembers what the last male sorcerer she encountered did to her.

“I most certainly did not!” Crowley even had the heart to seem offended, listening only when it involves himself.

The short red head spoke up “Ah, speak of the devil.”

Crowley seemed to hate her at this moment “If you must know, I was searching for the new student who'd failed to show for orientation.” All eyes turned to her as she tried to stay standing straight and not quiver under their gaze. “You are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your weasel.” He showed her to a mirror, one that looked familiar in the sense that her stomach dropped when her eyes met with its own. Even worse was when it spoke to her.

State thy name.

“Yuu..” she felt unsafe giving her name away yet she had to remain some form of strength to show the sorcerers that she wasn’t weak or to be laughed at.

The Dark Mirror seemed to drag out her name. “Yuu…

The nature of your soul is...” the pause it seemed to take was long enough to keep her there until she had to become a swan again.

“...unclear to me.”

“What did you just say?” Crowley seemed appalled and the few that were talking quietly completely stopped, this was shocking enough that they didn’t even make a gossip riot about it.

“I sense no magical power from this one that they themself own, magic from another running through them in such a crewel way perhaps but other then that, none. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant of their own. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to receive a person who cannot even use magic?But that is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence! How could this have happened?” His yelling of utter nonsense right in her ear made Yuu raise her neck and push her shoulders back a bit.

Grim seemed to struggle in his restraints before getting out “Mmmph! Nnnrgggh... *GASP!* ME! Let ME have this student's seat!” ‘Again what is so special about this school that he has to get in’ she wouldn’t dare say this aloud as people might get offended.

“Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!” Crowley scolded.

“Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! So let me be a student here! Look, I'll show you! My spells're the cat's meow!” He seemed to charge up, his blue ear flames rising higher.

“Everyone, get down!” The short red head seemed to realise what was happening before others and ducked taking the nearest student down buy the arm with him. Yuu felt someone else yank her down just like everyone was doing with each other, she turned and saw it was the really pretty boy with the blonde hair and.. colour at the tips..?. His eyes seemed to widen a smidge upon seeing her appearance.

“Your a girl..?” She nodded and told him later before they both stood up and looked back at the pyromaniac of a cat.

“Myaaahhh!” He spewed his fire all around the room.

“AHHHHH! HELP! I'm on fire over here!” The boy with the red eyes was panicking not knowing what to do when one’s butt was on fire. So Yuu quickly walked to him and pulled the sleeve of her jacket down a bit before telling him to stay still and began to hit the fire until it died down. He rubbed his but sore from both the fore and the hitting before looking at her. His eyes also seemed to widen making the same realisation as the pretty boy from before.

“Oh! Your a girl!” He seemed to not mind and smiled at her “thanks for that!”

“Your welcome” she gave him a polite smile ‘maybe there all not so bad’

“Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!” Crowley ordered around.

“Ugh. Can I go now, or...?” The boy that was snoozing around before seemed to wake up at the commotion a while ago and watched with bored eyes.

“Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Go and help yourself to that plump little morsel!” The pretty boy seemed to snap at the human feline.

“Too much effort. Do it yourself.” He waved the other off

“Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are up to the task of catching a small animal, I will accept the responsibility.” He seemed to want something out of this with the tone of his voice, Yuu learned to pick up on this all the time before becoming a swan when she had her lessons as a princess.

“WTG Azul. Rackin' up those participation credits.” Yuu had stared at the floating flat box that seemed to speak words she hadn’t heard before, the box noticed her and flew away a bit into the shadows averting her attention back to the pyromaniac.

“I'm sorry, were my instructions unclear?!” He seemed to stress out the issue ducking from an incoming fire ball.

“Sigh* Preeetty sure you can handle catching one mangy weasel all on your lonesome there, headmage.”

“He’s right” she mumbled out no one hearing her, although the lion boys ear twitched and he looked a bit smug.

“How many times do I gotta say it? I'm Grim, spellcaster extraordinaire! I am NOT a weasel!” It seemed to irritate Grim more calling him names.

“Aren't you a spunky little fellow? Riddle, would you be so kind...?” The boy with glasses, Azul..? Turned to the short red head who’s name is revealed to be Riddle.

“Furry miscreant. I will abide no rule-breaking. You will be judged by my hand.” Riddle seems to bask in the fact that he could stop someone from breaking many rules that we’re definitely in place, one probably being to not set the place on fire.

He pointed what seemed to be a pen with some sort of gem on its end at grim and shouted “Off With Your Head!” A red and black heart shaped collar with gold trim appeared around grins neck weighing him down a bit.

“MYAH?! What are you doing?!” He flailed around.

“The Queen of Heart's Rule 23: "One must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Your very presence here is a violation of order. You will vacate these premises immediately.” He carried a stern voice and upon seeing him like this Yuu could tell he’s done it before multiple times.

“But I ain't a cat either! Don't try to collar me! I'll burn it right off! Huh...? Wh-what gives? My fire ain't workin'!” He tried doing his little charge up but nothing happened for him, the fire on his ears stayed still and no signs of his magic activating appeared. This calmed Yuu down a fair bit and she relaxed herself letting her shoulders and neck fall not holding them up anymore.

“Until I deign to remove that collar, you won't be using any magic. You're naught but a pet cat now.” Riddle now seemed to calm down a bit and talked more smug and relaxed.

“M-meoWHAT?! I ain't nobody's pet-NOTHING!” Grim shook his head.

“Oh, you've nothing to worry about there. I certainly have no interest in having you as a pet. The collar will disappear once you're removed from campus.” He waved the cat off as if he were nothing but a little grass bug, the maiden could tell he was of high status, a noble definitely with the way he carried home self and the confidence he had in his skill, he must be very well trained.

“Ha-HA! Good show as always, Riddle. You're signature spell locks down any magic. It's quite handy. I've just GOT to have it—ah, I mean, I've just got to have respect for it.” Azul seemed to arise a major suspicion in Yuu, she knows how to point out slip ups in their speech and personality and this guy slipped up.

‘He’s definitely a manipulator, look at how he’s obsessing over riddles magic’

“Yuu! Was I not clear that you are expected to take responsibility for your familiar?” Crowley turned to the girl. “Now discipline your—What's that? It isn't yours?”

“Sir, I’ve told you times before, but this creature is not mine, I don’t even know what he is, I’ve never seen a cat like that, especially one that spews fire” she put the emphasis on the words pointing at Grim and trying not to show how overwhelmed she was with a talking, fire magicking cat.

“Oh...Is that so? *Ahem* Then I shall have it expelled from campus. I shall even spare it from being served as dinner. My, but I AM kind. ...Someone take this away, please.” Dinner, this man was even considering making it dinner

“Nooooo! Let me gooooo! You fools better remember my name! Cause I'm gonna go down in the annals of magic history! Just you wait!” Grim kept yelling on his way out of the room.

“I feel a bit bad for the poor thing..” Yuu mumbled, the boy who she had forgotten she was standing next to also nodded at her statement, a bit of a sad look on his face.

“Well, that was quite the unexpected fracas. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms.” He looked around the room for a second. “...Hm? Come to think of it, I don't see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.” Yuu had moved back a bit as the commotion picked up again with the new topic.

“And that surprises you? Dude's a total recluse.” The smug human cat rolled his eyes, obliviously not caring about this Draconia.

“Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?” The boy she was previously standing next to looked at the others around him awaiting a response.

“If you're that worried about him missing out, maybe you should have told him yourself.” The pretty boy she had first met told the boy with the red eyes.

“Maybe, but I don't know him too well either...” he trailed off. Yuu moved back another step and suddenly bumped into someone.

“Oh! So sorry sir, I didn’t see you” she apologised looking at the person she hit, to say he looked different from what she’s used to is an understatement, he was a bit short and had choppy hair that reached a bit past his chin and.. pink? In his hair. ‘Is that pink streaks in his hair?? How unusual’ the boy looked at her and giggled.

“It’s alright young one” he observed her for a moment, furrowing his brows for a split second before returning to his normal face. “I just need to get passed you m’lady”

“Oh yea of course sorry!” She moved a bit to the side enough so he could get passed her towards the front.

“Thank you beastie” he smiled at her before walking towards the big group. ‘How peculiar of a man he is, but who is beastie..?’ she wondered.

She heard whispers erupt all throughout the room “Draconia... Like, Malleus Draconia? THAT Draconia?”

“So it's true? He really does go to school here?”

“Yikes.”

“Ah. Just as I'd expected.” It was the boy who she ran into before. I figured I'd come down and see for myself whether Malleus had made an appearance. But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony.” He sighed and shook his head.

“You have my sincerest apologies. I assure you, this oversight was in no way intended as a snub.” Azul apologised

“I mean, you must admit, he's not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with.” Riddle said.

“No matter. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn't sulk about this.” He waved his hand, mumbling the last part.

“Well, Yuu. This is a most unfortunate turn of events.” Crowley turned to her “I'm afraid that you will not be attending Night Raven Collage after all. Surely you realize that I cannot very well admit a student with no magical ability to my academy”

“That’s alright sir, I didn’t plan on attending your all boys magic school” she took down her hood that was masking her appearance, as well as making her very hot. She played with her hair a bit, neatening it up from its messiness. She heard the man let out a little gasp.

“Your a girl, my this is an even more reason to not admit you into the school I’m afraid, But worry not. The Dark Mirror will see you safely home.”

‘Home, with the others..’ she smiled at the thought, then went sour ‘home where Baron is..’

“Now, step into the gate, and visualize the place you whence you came.” She stepped up and imagined home, with her 11 other siblings and her parents, her father the king, a man of great power who was soft on his daughters yet stern when needed, and of her mother, oh her dear sick mother that she missed dearly, the woman who raised her, the woman that made her cookies within the royal kitchen, the woman who taught her to dance, the loving mother that held her when she cried, the mother that spent all her free time surrounded by her daughters, the woman who taught the youngest 3 daughters to sing carols on Christmas, who taught the twins to sneak off and participate in the royal guard training, the woman who spent her days personally teaching her eldest daughter Yuu, the mother that kissed them all to bed no matter how old they got she would tuck them in and sing a song or tell a story, the woman who started to get more ill it was like a curse that wouldn’t go away, the mother that mourned her children upon hearing of their curse, the woman she left behind.

Her sisters all 11 of them, all turned into swans because of her, they took her fate along with them and carried it for 3 years rarely seeing their parents, following Yuu around, living there lives on a lake, the sisters that she left behind and now they would befall the fate of her curse. The family she would return to.

“O Dark Mirror! Return this soul to where it belongs!” Crowley commanded, yet nothing happened

‘No..don’t tell me’

“Ahem* L-let us, er...try this again. O Dark Mirror! Return this soul—“ he was cut off

“There is no such place.” The dark mirror stated plainly.

‘No..No, no, no’ her mind started panicking, no such place?!.

“What?” Crowlwy asked

“here is no place in this world where this soul belongs.

None.”

“How can that be? My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena!” Crowley stressed.

The mirror didn’t respond.

“This has never happended throughout my long tenure. I must confess that I am at something of a loss. Tell me: From what land do you hail?” He turned to her and asked.

“I’m from the Rhodanthe”

“Rhodanthe? I'm afraid I am not familiar with such a place.”

“But how, it’s one of the most powerful kingdoms across the land” she tried to block out the thought that drifted at the end of her mind.

“I am intimately acquainted with the origins of every student who has ever come here, and yet... This mysterious homeland of your eludes me. Let us go to the library and look it up, shall we?”

NOTE: that is chapter 3 YAY! I start holidays on Friday but I am going away for about a week so I’ll try to have something at least in the making, I’m glad other are liking this story so tell me what you imagine odette!Yuu to look like and the clothes she wears.

I also took the sisters thing from barbie and the 12 dancing princesses, it’ll provide for good angst in the future and it also says that Odette has other swans with her so I decided to go with that and make them her sisters. Hope you all like this chapter it takes a while to make these but I enjoy it, we’re getting closer and closer to day time in wonderland so I’m exited to write the swan. Also if anyone wants to drop a name for the sisters mother or father I’ll try and use it so I can build up their characters, it just needs to have a medieval touch yk not TO modern and if it comes with a meaning I would love to know that to.

IMPORTANT!! I think I might make other posts like incorrect quotes and stuff based on odette!Yuu and stuff like scenarios or answering questions so I’ll try to see how an ask box or whatever it’s called works and use it, I might even posts other Yuusonas I’ve got but I’ll mainly try to focus on odette Yuu.

Tag list: @just-here-reading

[scribbling-dragon]

Watcher’s Nest Café

Chapter 8

summary:

The café was quiet.

The customers inside were sitting contentedly at their own tables, each lost in their own worlds as they spoke quietly amongst each other. He didn't know what he expected, really, from a café that relied on the local student populace. And with several final deadlines yesterday, there wouldn't have been many people willing to get up this early, let alone make the trek to the café with the miserable weather outside.

Scott wishes that a few more people would come in, only so that he might have something to do.

(ao3 link)

(masterpost)

(4,913 words)

and this is it! the complete thing- it’s been really fun to write this, so i hope you enjoy the final chapter of this fic!

The café was quiet.

The customers inside were sitting contentedly at their own tables, each lost in their own worlds as they spoke quietly amongst each other. He didn't know what he expected, really, from a café that relied on the local student populace. And with several final deadlines yesterday, there wouldn't have been many people willing to get up this early, let alone make the trek to the café with the miserable weather outside.

Scott wishes that a few more people would come in, only so that he might have something to do.

Something to stare at other than the empty seats at the front bar, something to focus on other than the absence of someone that hasn't even been inside of the café for the past few days.

It shouldn't be bothering him as much as it is. He likes to think of himself as an incredibly composed person, someone that can roll with the blows that life chooses to deal him, even if it unbalances him for a few moments.

The sunlight, cold and pale, streams in through the windows at the front of the café. It pools just in front of the counter, spilling over the wooden tables and almost blinding Scott with how bright it is.

The light is always like this, early in the morning and during winter. It’s cold and bright, shining in through the windows and forcing him to squint through the light to try and smile at the customers. Normally, he’d have someone sitting at the front bar with him, though, whether that was Cleo or Pixl or even Martyn, recently. Normally, they’d be sat there, one or two or all of them, complaining about whatever early-morning classes they have as Scott contents himself with listening, occasionally contributing, and serving the customers.

Normally, on slow days like today, he’d lean over the counter, rest his arms against them, and join in the conversation. He’d smile, far easier than he normally does, and simply talk. Cleo would raise an eyebrow at him if he flirted with Martyn a little too obviously, hiding a smile behind their drink.

Normally, Pix would pretend he was actually doing his work, tapping away at his laptop, but infrequently enough that Scott, and anyone else bothering to look, would know that he’s not actually being productive, with how often he would pause to lean in and mutter some joke, or give some random fact that no-one actually understood why he knew, to their small group at the front of the café.

But it’s not a normal day.

It’s not a normal day and he’s stood, alone at the front of the café. Standing still behind the counter, hands folded neatly in front of himself as he tries not to think too much.

It’s not a normal day, because his head still hurts, despite the tablets he’d taken before he left Grian’s house this morning, and there’s a slight pulsing behind one of his eyes as he breathes slowly. He’s still not sure what it is that Grian puts in his mystery mix, but he vows (again) to never drink it again, because he still feels a little sick. Or that might just be the anxiety.

Because it’s not normal, as much as he’s trying to convince himself that it is; because he doesn't normally sit outside, in the cold, when he knows it’ll only make him hurt even more. He doesn't normally sit and let himself think, even if it’s only for a moment, that Martyn actually meant his words and that they weren't just the musings of a drunk person.

He’s not sure if he imagined the dismissal this morning, as Martyn barely glanced up from his phone. Barely looked towards him, hardly even spared him a smile, before he was looking away again. As though he didn't care. Like he didn't pay any mind to the words they shared last night.

He breathes out shakily, smiling as a customer comes to ask for a second drink. He smiles as best as he can, though it feels more like a grimace, and asks if she’d like anything else with that. She smiles politely back at him, her smile far more put-together than his own, and declines.

She taps her card against the machine, and he asks if she wants her receipt as he taps on the screen. He hands her receipt over, promising that her drink will be over in a minute. She smiles at him again, still well put-together, and returns to her table.

He drifts away, just slightly, as he makes the drink. He’s made this drink a thousand times before, will probably make it thousands more times, and he walks through the steps easily, thoughts spinning away from him. He can hardly grasp onto them long enough to string three words together, setting the drink down with a clink from the ceramic.

She doesn't even look up, murmuring a “thank you” that he pays very little mind to, returning behind the counter and trying not to favour his leg too heavily.

He drags the stool out from beneath the counter when he gets back, giving into his pride for a moment, if only because the sharp pain lancing through his leg is quickly becoming irritating and not at all worth it. It wasn't worth it when he sat outside, in subzero temperatures, and he knew that then. He knows it even better now.

He swings his other leg back and forth as he sits, hands curled loosely around the edge of his seat. One of the tables empties, chairs scraping back and breaking through the fog of his mind. He looks up, blinking twice to clear his eyes and watching as they leave.

He stands, dragging himself from his stool, and cleans their table. He returns the dirty mugs to the sink, leaving them for a moment as he returns to wipe the table down, cleaning it quickly before returning to his stool.

There aren't enough dirty mugs to justify running a full sink of water, for now, so he leaves them. He’ll get to them in a moment, once there’s a few more mugs or plates and it’s later in the day, and his brain feels less like it’s trying to burst out of his skull.

The bright morning light isn't helping, with how it streams through the windows and hits him directly in the eyes. But he can't just close his eyes and lay his head down- it would be unprofessional, and his boss hasn't come in recently, so he could visit any day now, checking up on him and making sure that the café he doesn't even care about is running to a “proper standard”.

He squints his eyes halfway shut, and he can almost see Martyn sat at the counter across from him, chin resting in one hand and balancing his head with the other as he stares down at whatever assignment he was struggling with at the minute.

The sunlight always hit his hair just right, seeming to illuminate it- turning it to gold right in front of Scott’s eyes, as cliché as that sounds. It’s almost embarrassing, the way he sounds like a teenager with his first crush, prone to waxing poetic about the smallest details.

Maybe he should have been a writer. His English teacher had always pushed for him to do that, nudging him along the path, even once he reiterated that he wasn't interested. He could, if he wanted. His grade in English was good enough to get him into most universities nearby- but it’s not something plausible.

He’d never been able to shake the habit of poeticising everything he comes across that snags his attention, only catching himself once he’s halfway through thinking about the exact green of the grass or the way the clouds hang heavy and low in the sky. It would be embarrassing, if any of his friends could read minds; thankfully, they cannot, and he hardly leaves any of his musings out there for someone to stumble across by accident.

The bell chimes, interrupting his train of thought. He looks up, curious to see who his next customer is.

He blinks once, then twice, staring at Martyn.

Martyn stares back at him, chest rising and falling quicker than usual, as though he’d run here. Or done something else to physically exert himself recently. His eyes are slightly wider than usual, hair falling over his face in a way that’s not at all like the usual, purposeful way it falls over his eyes.

His hair catches the sun just right, still. Lighting up behind him in hues of wheat-gold. The door swings shut behind him, slipping free from his fingers as he continues to stand in the threshold. The bell chimes once more as the door latches into place, and the small sound seems to break Martyn out of whatever had him frozen in place before.

Nobody even looks up as Martyn walks over to the counter, and Scott leans back on his stool when Martyn reaches him. He glances past Martyn, before looking back up at him, worrying his lip between his teeth, careful not to split the skin. He’s more than aware that Martyn could accuse him of…something. He’s not sure what, but he knows that he could definitely get him fired from his job if he was embarrassed enough about last night.

“I'm sorry,” Martyn says, the words spilling past his lips hurriedly as he continues to stare down at Scott. He slowly stands from his stool, not liking the height advantage Martyn has over him, however slight, when he’s sat. He freezes in place as the words percolate through his brain and process, leaving him staring at Martyn.

“Uh,” he says, intelligently.

“I'm sorry,” Martyn repeats, quieter this time, leaning over the counter. It puts them closer together, their faces scant inches apart. Martyn looks tired, probably as tired as he looks, the toll of staying up late and drinking more than is probably healthy. “I shouldn't have let you leave like that this morning, but I did anyway, and I feel like shit for that.”

“I- yeah,” he nods at that. “Just…do we really want to have this conversation here?” He asks, lowering his voice a little bit further when the girl from before looks over, slipping her headphones down to listen a little more intently. She looks away when Scott catches her eye. “It echoes.”

Martyn looks a little taken aback, before looking around and realising that the café is actually quite full, even if it’s really early in the morning and the only people here are those with the day off or a later shift, or something. Scott doesn't know anyone in here, aside from the one lady watching them intently from the booth beside the window. She comes in twice a week, the same days every week, and orders the same thing every time. He thinks she might be lonely, that she comes here for the conversations Jimmy normally engages her in and to people-watch.

“Yeah,” Martyn looks back at him. His eyes are still shining with something, hair lit up and framing his face, almost like a halo. He scoffs internally at the comparison, stuffing it away and hoping that he never thinks of it again. His face feels a little warm. “I just, I couldn't wait. I knew you were working, so, just, tell me to go away if this is pushing any boundaries, yeah? Because I know you can't exactly leave if you're uncomfortable, and that’s the last thing I want.”

“Come, uh, come to the back,” he steps back, swinging the counter up so Martyn can shuffle through. He can only pray that his boss doesn't choose today as the day he comes in to check that everything is running smoothly.

The girl from before gives him a judging look, eyes sweeping up and down Martyn- and, alright. Maybe not the best look, especially when his clothes are very obviously rumpled and look like they've already been worn. Absolutely not the best impression to be setting right now.

He glares at her, just because he can, and because it’s expected of him at this point. She stares right back at him, quirking an eyebrow judgmentally before she turns back to whatever the hell it was she was doing. He doesn't even know her.

The door swings shut behind him and Martyn, and then they're both stood in the break room-storage room fusion. The boxes are pushed into one corner, filled with the things that can afford to sit in there for another week until they have space for the stock out front.

“I'm sorry about last night,” Martyn says. His stomach drops a little at the words, the slight hope he’d managed to convince himself wasn't dangerous promptly shrivelling up and dying. “I didn't mean to get that drunk, I definitely wasn't sober when I had that conversation with you, and I don't think you were either.” He’s refusing to meet Scott’s eyes, even as he continues to stare at him. He should be burning a hole into the side of Martyn’s head with his stare, but Martyn remains unaffected.

“Ah, yeah,” he chokes out, feeling as though he’s speaking past a lump in his throat. He swallows, in an attempt to get rid of the feeling, but it remains lodged firmly in his throat. He feels like he can't breathe. “Neither of us were very sober then.”

Martyn scuffs his foot over the ground, back and forth, back and forth, before looking up and meeting Scott’s eyes. There’s something there, and these are the sorts of things that Scott prides himself on- he might not be great at the academic intelligence, though he’s decent enough, but he likes to think that he more than makes up for it with his emotional intelligence. Still, he finds himself scrambling for an answer that doesn't present itself when he looks into Martyn’s eyes, feeling slightly breathless and more than a little sick.

“I still meant it.” Martyn says. He refuses to look at Scott again. He feels almost weak in the knees with relief, the wave crashing over him so abruptly and with so much force that he’s almost carried away by it. He sways, a little, and his knee twinges with the motion. “I just…” he trails off, sucking in a large breath, “I just didn't want to keep thinking things over if you…didn't.”

“I- Martyn,” he can't help it. He really can't. He sighs Martyn’s name, feeling the lump in his throat disappear as he swallows. His heart seems to replace it, seeming to lodge itself right in his throat with how hard it’s beating. “Oh my god.” He laughs a little, because he feels incredibly, incredibly stupid now. Like he’s overlooked everything.

“What?” Martyn looks worried now, hands clasped tightly together, tight enough that he can see the whites of his knuckles.

“We’re both idiots,” he manages, breathing it out between laughter.

“Hey!” Martyn puffs up, looking offended and relieved at the same time. “What do you mean?”

“You know all of our friends had bets on us, right?” He asks, instead. Martyn blinks at him. “They had a board in their kitchen, apparently, but they wiped it off before the party, so we couldn't see it. Xisuma told me.”

“They- what?” Martyn sounds so genuinely confused that he can't help but laugh again, bending over slightly as relief sweeps over him again. “They bet on us?”

“Did you expect anything less?” He asks.

“I- no! But I still would have appreciated being told. Why did Xisuma tell you?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs, “guess he took pity on me.”

“Aw, man,” Martyn sighs, slumping against the opposite wall and tipping his head back. “I do feel like an idiot now- all of our friends knew and they didn't say anything?”

“We figured it out eventually,” he shrugs, going for it far more casually than he actually feels. He feels like he should be screaming, or something equally dramatic. Maybe sliding down the wall in a panic. He should probably be checking that there aren't any customers waiting outside. He finds that he doesn't actually care, when Martyn looks up.

“Guess we did,” Martyn says. He pushes himself off of the wall, taking one step closer. The break room isn't that big, and with that single step the distance between them is halved. Scott could reach out right now and grab him by his hoodie. He doesn't, looking at him from beneath his eyelashes as Martyn wavers. “Do you…have an answer to my question?”

Scott debates for a moment, continuing to watch Martyn from half-lidded eyes, leaning against the wall beside the door. He smiles, tilting his head to the side. “What question?” Martyn left him to stew in his emotions for a few hours, he can afford a few moments of floundering.

“You're seriously gonna make me ask?”

He considers it for a moment, before allowing his smile to spread a little wider, showing off his teeth as he looks up at Martyn. He expects a little surprise, maybe for Martyn to pull back as his teeth are revealed. He doesn't waver, continuing to stare down at him. “Yes,” he breathes, after a moment. He hardly needs to speak louder, with the distance between them even the slightest sound will be heard.

“Scott,” Martyn says, stepping closer, but not touching him, hands still hovering as he pushes closer, toeing the line between friendly closeness and…something else. “Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

Yes, he thinks but doesn't say. He’s thought about it several times, so many times, over the past few weeks. Every time Martyn would smile at him, grinning in his stupidly infectious way; every time he would comment on Scott slipping something from a rude customer. Every time the sun would hit his hair just right and he’d light up the entire café. Scott wasn't sure how people could look away from him when he was like that.

Martyn’s still watching him, still waiting for his response. His hands still hover, close enough that Scott can feel the warmth of his skin, but not quite touching. Not until Scott says he can.

“More times than I can count,” he replies. Martyn flushes at that, blush rising high on his face, causing his ears to turn pink at the tips.

“Then,” Martyn says, “can I kiss you now?”

“Please,” he breathes, hands already reaching up to pull Martyn closer to himself, because he’s not certain he can deal with the almost touching for much longer without going entirely insane. “Martyn,” he says, voice embarrassingly soft as he hooks his hand around the back of Martyn’s neck, pulling them closer.

One of Martyn’s hands settles on his hip, pulling them flush against each other. The other raises to his face, pushing his hair back from his face, tucking it behind his ear, and kisses him.

It’s chaste, just a simple brush of lips on lips. Martyn pulls back a moment later, eyes already blown wide, blushing like someone that’s just had their first kiss.

“Martyn,” he asks, a teasing lilt working its way into his voice. “Have you ever kissed someone before?”

“Yes,” Martyn hisses, face growing pinker with embarrassment. “Of course I have.”

“Have you ever kissed someone for longer than a moment?” He asks, he softens his voice, “I'm not making fun, I promise.”

“I- no,” Martyn’s eyes dart away, then back to him again. They drop to his lips, and Scott smiles at the silent admission. “It…I never felt the need to do more than that.”

“Can I kiss you again?” Scott asks.

Martyn nods slowly, still watching him. He smiles, tightening his grip on the back of Martyn’s neck and pulling him closer until he’s close enough to connect their lips again. Martyn goes easily enough, the hand still resting on his hip squeezing tighter for a moment before relaxing again.

Scott sways into Martyn, pulling him down as he brushes his tongue over Martyn’s lips. Martyn makes a small noise at the action, but he doesn't pull back, even as his lungs must begin to burn. Scott’s own lungs are burning, too, but he pushes further into the feeling, biting down on the very edge of Martyn’s lip.

Martyn pulls back with a gasp, eyes wide and pupils blown.

“Too much?” He asks, cradling the side of Martyn’s face in the palm of his hand. 

“I- no,” Martyn breathes out, still staring at Scott. It’s almost intense enough to make him cower away from it, but he pushes himself towards it instead, leaning further into Martyn, pressing them close together until his chest is resting against Martyn’s, close enough that he can hear the thump-thump-thump of his heart. “Just…unexpected.”

“In a good way?”

“The best way.” Martyn agrees, and then he’s kissing him again.

Martyn’s hand crawls into his hair, tugging at the strands there, lightly at first, then harder when it makes Scott bite his lips again, swiping his tongue over the spot a moment later to soothe it.

Martyn pulls back again, still staring at him with those wide eyes, pupils swallowing a lot of the colour in his eyes, making them look far darker than they actually are.

“Can I-” Martyn stutters off, out of breath and flushed, “Can I touch your hands?” He asks, after a few moments of catching his breath, staring down at Scott.

“Huh?” He pulls his hands back slightly at the question, flexing his fingers and listening to the way the leather creaks. Martyn reaches up to catch his wrist, holding it firmly but not tight, continuing to watch Scott.

“You can say no,” Martyn tells him. And his voice is sincere enough that Scott knows it to be true. He could say no and they could both move on; continuing kissing, if they wanted to. Even if Scott really needs to at least poke his head out and make sure that there’s no massive queue of customers awaiting his return.

“Why?” He asks instead. Because his hands feel sweaty, uncomfortable within the gloves, and taking them off doesn't seem like the worst decision in the world. He can think of several, far worse, decisions he could be making right now.

“Because…I want to see all of you,” Martyn says. “You're just- you're hiding your hands, and I don't know why. And everyone else seems to know, but I don't, and I want to tell you that it’s fine, but I can't, because I don't know.”

“And what if it isn't fine?” Scott asks. Because he has to. He has to. He’s worn gloves for the past four years, and no one’s ever asked him to take them off. Everyone’s just assumed that he’s wearing them for a reason, to hide something - and they're right - and they can't bear to be proven right. “What then?”

“Then we work past it,” Martyn says. “I don't know what to do with myself, Scott, you've driven me insane. I can hardly think of anything else; I've hardly been able to focus on my work, knowing that you're out there, somewhere, and I could be there with you if I wasn't working.”

“That’s silly,” he says. But he would be lying if he said he wasn't touched. It’s sweet, especially with the way Martyn smiles down at him.

“Please?” Martyn asks, and the last of his (admittedly very weak) resolve crumbles in the face of Martyn asking.

“You can't- you can't run away,” he says, even as he pulls his hand back, loosening the gloves. He can't remember the last time he took them off outside of sleeping, and even then he wears them to sleep in sometimes. Can hardly stand the sight of his hands himself.

He eases the leather off anyway, shivering as the air hits his skin and scales. He flexes his fingers, moving them around, even as he keeps his eyes fixed on Martyn. One, to watch his reaction, but two, because he cannot bear to look at his hands himself.

Something brushes over the back of his hand and he gasps, the small sound falling past his lips involuntarily. He shuts his eyes, keeps them squeezed shut and simply nods when Martyn asks if he’s alright.

“They're just…sensitive,” he manages, after a moment, once the feeling of gentle fingers on the back of his hand has eased. “I don't…I’m not used to someone touching them.”

“Oh.” Martyn says. He brushes a careful hand over the scales on Scott’s wrist again, before slowly trailing back up. He twists his wrist at the end, fits their hands together carefully, holding Scott’s hand carefully, as though it’s something to be protected.

“How can you,” he chokes out, breaking his silence when Martyn continues to hold his hand, looking completely unbothered. “How can you just hold my hand? You're not blind, are you?”

“Of course I'm not blind,” Martyn looks him in the eye. “I'm simply appreciating you as a whole, your hands are a part of you, how could I dislike them?”

“How can you just say something like that?” He can feel his face heating up, the way his fins press back against the sides of his head in embarrassment. “They're everything that people find disgusting about sirens. The only thing remaining to identify us as something else.”

“And Jimmy has the yellow feathers of a Canary,” Martyn says. “That identifies him as an omen of death, of misfortune, but everyone is friends with him still. Tango’s sclera is almost black, and I'm pretty sure we've all seen the depictions of demons like that, but Tango isn't a demon; I'm pretty sure he’s the furthest thing from a demon.”

“That,” he doesn't have a good argument against that, nothing to argue otherwise. “I guess.”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might care for you because you're just…you?” Martyn laughs. “At the risk of sounding cheesy, I don't think there’s much you could do to push me away now.”

Yes, he wants to say, yes it is hard to believe you. Because Martyn was doing what his family had chosen not to do. What his father and his brother had decided they couldn't deal with, couldn't stand seeing the reminder of his mother. Couldn't bear to see the resemblance between the two, when she had abandoned them so easily.

The weight of the watch in his pocket can attest to this. Its face cracked and broken, hands perpetually stuck in a time of the past. It speaks of a tipping point- a point of no return, something that he cannot, would not, return to, even if he was given the chance. He’s not sure he could face his brother again.

He doesn't say this, just sighs and rests his head against Martyn’s shoulder. And Martyn holds his hand.

The sound of the bell interrupts them, and his head jerks up, pulling his hand free from Martyn’s grip.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, realising that they're still stood in the break room. “Oh my god, Jimmy’s never gonna let me live this down.”

“What?”

“I abandoned the café to come kiss you in the break room- I make fun of Jimmy for doing that.”

Martyn stares at him, wide-eyed, for a moment. Then he laughs, the sound so loud compared to the quietness of before.

“I need to go,” he says, pulling his glove back on, fumbling to tighten it properly again and cover up the mess of scales that is his hand. “Oh my god, they're gonna make fun of me. They're gonna be horrible.”

“I'm sure it’ll be fine,” Martyn says, but he’s still laughing when Scott escapes the break room, still a little pink in the face. There’s only one customer waiting, and he doesn't look like he’s been stood there for too long, so Scott breathes a sigh of relief.

The girl from before is gone, leaving two empty mugs in her wake. The lady in the window booth gives him a small thumbs-up.

*

“How are you always right?” Jimmy complains, leaning over Grian’s shoulder, reading the message from Martyn. “It’s not fair, the universe is rigged against me.”

“Then you gotta stop betting, Timmy,” Grian nudges at him, shutting his phone off when Martyn’s texts devolve into nonsense. “If the universe is against you, you're never gonna win.”

“I thought for sure I would be right this time,” Jimmy slumps over the counter, ignoring Grian as he collects his spoils of war. He looks unbelievably smug- and really, they should ban him from betting ever, he seems to have made some kind of deal with Luck, with the way he keeps winning.

“There, there,” Tango pats him on the head, messing his hair up worse than it was before. “At least it wasn't as bad as-”

“If you bring up the Sheriff Incident one more time,” Jimmy growls, “I might kill someone.”

“Did someone say Sheriff?” Grian spins on his heel, wearing a smug grin very reminiscent of a cat. “Lemme tell you, I have an entire folder dedicated…”

“Kill me,” Jimmy whispers to Tango. “Send my congratulations to Scott, and then kill me.”

“No can do, buddy,” Tango pats him on the head again. “I like you too much to do that.”

[snapdragoned]

hi there! could you maybe tell me where the laptop on a wooden stand thingy in this post is from? thank you! your decorating is lovely btw, your pictures are so pretty! /snapdragoned/754571708255600640/a-few-shots-of-abigails-apartment-the-goal-was?source=share

thank you so much! :> 💜

that's neosimi's 4t2 conversion of the aesthetically portable tablet from the pastel pop kit!