#My handwriting cannot be this neat for this fucking long

[hearts4pearlescentmoon]

IM DOIN IT

it’s taking if forever but I’m doing it

I’ve got so many freaking ideas on what I’m gonna do when this thing is done

#the magnus archives #tma #magnus pod #mag 1 #mag 001 #ive had this idea for around a about a month or two now and just now acting on it because I’m ✨lazy✨ #Yeah this books paper doesn’t do well with erasing so MAGNUS TRANSCRIPTS #Imma do all of them #And I’m gonna hate doing it #But I’m gonna do it #its gonna happen #You see that I’m convincing myself #I’m convincing myself that I can do this #My handwriting cannot be this neat for this fucking long #It’s gonna take for fucking ever #I don’t think I have enough space for all the statements #Anywhozle #What the fuck am I gonna do when this thing is done #Can you tell I’m listening to litwtc rn #I can #just by the way I’m typing I hate it #Magnus transcripts project

[trikeyaredilfs]

Michael Realizing Trevor is Autistic:

“He just does this-!” Michael mimicked the hand movements of Trevor before returning his elbows to the countertop.

“I don’t know, Mandy, I think he finally fried his brain.”

Amanda swirled the wine around in her glass a few times, seemingly lost in thought.

“And you said he was asking you to sit on him?” She asks returning her gaze to him.

“Maybe he’s got a fetish for it, I mean, it’s Trevor.” He wraps his hand around his whiskey glass, quickly downing some of it before setting it back down. He rubs the bridge of his nose, groaning.

“Have you ever considered the man might be autistic?” Amanda asks, taking another sip of wine. “Autistic?” Michael parrots, furrowing his brow. “Like that thing kids get? He doesn’t exactly fit that criteria, Mandy.”

Amanda considers downing the rest of the wine in the bottle, dumbfounded yet absolutely unsurprised by his response. “No, jackass.” She almost laughs. “I mean, he doesn’t understand social cues, his moral compass is nearly nonexistent, he definitely does not understand societal norms, he wears the same clothes…for however long that is, he doesn’t understand gender expectations, he is obsessed with that stupid superhero figure-“ with each observation she holds up a finger. “And above all of that, he was so obsessed with you, he literally spent 10 years, knowing you were supposedly dead trying to find you. He cannot keep focus on a single thing and yet the one thing he can, and somehow did better than the actual FIB was finding you.”

Amanda stares at him blankly, this time popping the cork on her wine bottle and picking it up before taking a long swig. She swallows noisily, setting the bottle back down before walking out into the other room. Bringing a large book back with her. “My kid has autism; the guide for parents” was plastered in obnoxiously colorful letters on the front.

“Here. Take this and read it, Michael.” Amanda said holding it toward him.

“This whole book?” He whines slightly.

“Could you actually try with Trevor? The one person who genuinely loves you more than they do themselves and you’re whining over a book. The least you could do is help him.” Amanda retorts.

Michael clenches his jaw but exhales. “Alright, Amanda. Thank you.” He looks at the book again. “Wait, why do we have this?”

“There was a shrink back in North Yankton that thought Jimmy had it. Never really seemed to respond to anything abnormally, so I just decided to let him be Jimmy.”

“Thanks, Mandy, y’know,I think I like this arrangement. Just talking.” He says,half smiling. Taking another drink of his whiskey.

“Just wait until we can manage it sober.” She snorts.

“I’ll drink to that.” Michael says, raising his glass.

-

Michael glances to the clock, 2 am.

He had been reading this book for nearly 3 hours now, making notes off to the side. He yawns, pulling off his bifocals, something that never left the office because he refused to reveal further evidence of his age.

He rubs his eyes with his palms, before standing up to stretch his stiff legs. From the corner of the room, Trevor emerges. “Whatcha been readin’ there, Mikey?”

Michael nearly jumps out of his skin. “Jesus! You’re going to give me a fuckin’ heart attack, T. How the fuck did you even get in here?”

“Window was open, I climbed in. You’re avoiding the question though, what were you reading?” Trevor approaches the desk. Michael moves in front of him. “It’s just a…history textbook. Jimmy was curious about a war and-“

“Jimmy has an IFruit. He could just look it up on eyefind. I don’t really appreciate the shadiness, Mikey. I thought we were over secrets?” Trevor pushes past him and flips the book’s cover closed a moment, reading it.

“Who the hell is autistic?”

Michael stays quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of a good way to phrase what is in his mind.

Trevor picks up the notebook beside the book, reading through Michael’s neat handwriting. Specifically one set of lines caught his eye.

Stimming, a method of self stimulation: Trevor’s stims: rocking, nail-biting and hand-flapping

Trevor stares at the paper, his eyebrows furrowed but his expression ultimately blank. He flipped through a few pages.

“Listen, T… I wanted to sit and talk-“ Michael starts, Trevor simply puts his finger up, still reading the pages intensely.

After a few moments he sets the notebook down, looking at Michael. Michael couldn’t tell what was going through Trevor’s head, he seemed way too calm at the moment. “Talk.” Trevor hisses.

“I-“ Michael starts, his mouth feeling suddenly incredibly dry. “I just wanted to understand you better, Trevor. I noticed all of these things that you do and I didn’t understand why they were happening. Then Amanda gave me this book, and I’m trying to read it because maybe it is what’s happening, but I didn’t want to just assume.” He explains, finally looking away from Trevor. “I’m sorry, T, really.”

Trevor’s once deadpan face breaks with a slight grin. “Mikey, that’s sweet.” Trevor laughs. “But I know I’m autistic. I could’ve told you that. I figured that out when I was going to that shrink after you died.”

“…and you didn’t tell me?” Michael looked more hurt than confused.

“You never asked, Mikey. Plus it just kind of slipped my mind.” Shrugged Trevor. “But, I do like that you tried to understand my fucked up mind, sugartits, it’s actually pretty hot.”

“And there goes the severity of this conversation.” Michael chuckles, pushing past Trevor and getting into bed.

“Are you gonna finally lay on me now?”

“Not a chance.”

#trevor philips #michael de santa #amanda de santa #it’s not great but hc #autistic trev

[eatsyourheartout]

facts about vile

her fav holiday’s halloween, you could beat her but you cannot beat her halloween costumes, you would NEVERRR catch her with a store bought costume, every costume is handmade, if there isn’t a halloween party coming up she throws one

she grew up to tim burton, stephen king, harry potter and horror media that shaped her to who she is now, she collected monster high dolls especially the vampire ones (her favorite being veronica von vamp) and her favorite bratz dolls were the bratzillaz, she had a big fascination with vampires and it grew from her favorite shows : buffy the vampire slayer & my babysitter’s a vampire, fun fact! her first nightmare was about dracula

she enjoys being chased than being in a relationship (even though deep inside that’s all she craves)

the way she acts around the people she has crushes on is 1- teasing constantly, 2- bullying them, 3- gift giving

if she had to pick a job it would be a piercer/ tattoo artist, she did most of her piercings herself except the dermals & did her siblings’s piercings

she finds drugs disgusting and would never get addicted to it but doesn’t mind trying (esp weed & lsd)

she would never get into a relationship easily, it takes her time to know if she’ll feel secure with them or not

she’s a great liar

her aura color’s purple (spiritual, creative imagination/artistic, connected to spirit guides, mystery, moody, ambition, sensitive, psychic abilities)

always has her nails done (black long stilettos)

the first thing strangers notice about her features is her sharp eyes, her beauty secret is thin arched brows to make her eyes more sharp bc this bitch got big soul eater eyes

she’s in a band called fright night and they only preform in clubs during halloween

she’s only experienced “things” with women, never with men

her signature perfume’s good girl by carolina herrera

her hair texture’s curly but she straightens the fuck out of it everyday, rarely see her in her big curls

she loovesss layering jewelry, she prefers silver or rhinestone ones

her weird quality is talking to herself even when there’s people around, either out loud or in her mind while moving her hands

her love language is physical touch & gift giving

she’s super affectionate towards her friends = sitting on their lap or kissing their cheeks, complimenting them and telling them she loves them, always gives them hugs whenever she has the chance to

hates side hugs

extremely flirty, people keep thinking she has a crush on them but that’s just how she is

stubborn brat asf

she loves eye contact

her closet is so black that it’s hard to find clothes she wants that’s why she takes so long to get ready

she can get along with anyone as long as they give the same energy back

she forgives but NEVER forgets, has insane memory

she can’t drink caffeine because of her anxiety issues but she loves the taste

she’s a horrible driver, surprisingly has a car (a black 1960s cadillac eldorado convertible) & a drivers license, the only reason she doesn’t crash is bc the car is too gorgeous

her weakness in a woman is a monroe piercing, a gap in their front teeth, curly hair & deep raspy voices, you already have her on her knees

her weakness in a man is piercings, long hair, red heads (dyed)

her handwriting is super neat and cursive, she has this weird obsession with stationary stuff (she gets excited when she goes back to school shopping) she collects notebooks and other stationary shit she usually doesn’t use, most of them are collecting dust rn but she loves them all either way and would never get rid of them

her favorite family member is her older brother sully, they’re practically best friends

her comfort food is mint chocolate ice cream

she rarely gets mad, if something bothers her / if she wants to confront someone she does it calmly

she always has cat food & gloves in her purse incase she runs into a cat

she has a black fluffy cat named nightmare, sully found her in the streets and brought her to vile, she’s super curious and likes to stare at people’s faces

did i mention she’s a cat person

always has a notebook by her bed to write her dreams, sometimes she has dreams that predicts the future

her mom’s hobby is dream reading and later on turned it into a job, vile learned so many things from her and got used to writing her dreams and analyzing it, one issue.. she found out most of vile’s secrets through her dreams

her favorite hair dye phase was chunky red highlights or full red hair and always goes back to it whenever she gets that phase

her singing voice sounds like a mixture between hope sandoval & elysian fields

her style icon is taylor momsen and pamela anderson

she collects herbs like a lil freak and loves mixing some n creating unique teas, she’s a sucker for tea (caffeine problem IK but it’s not as strong as coffee, she can drink it)

easiest way to have her heart in a chokehold is taking her to a cemetery date during a foggy morning, forest dates, bullying her, and finding her craft interesting enough to let her do a tarot reading on you (one time a guy confessed his feelings for her through a tarot reading and to this day she still thinks about it)

her favorite animals are snow leopards, bats and owls

her fav subjects are history and science, least fav is math

she likes to explore abandoned buildings

her theme song would be Angel by Massive Attack

#♱. vile info #diabolik lovers oc #diabolik lovers #dialovers

[tiredstressedemotionalmess]

kinda a silly question; what would the ttid fab fours hand writing be like?

OKAY I ACTUALLY REALLY LIKE THIS QUESTION GDHSGHS i am not good at like. mimicking other styles of handwriting aside from my own so heres my best descriptions:

-ghoul writes BIG, and his letters are pretty sharp and angular (which is why he really had to like. focus and squeeze all his words together on that small as hell piece of glass) and he uses a lot of pressure when he writes. theres a lot of crossing out involved when he writes on paper and shit, regardless of wether or not he has an eraser, and he doesnt give a shit abt proper capitalization so letters will just be capitalized randomly bc thats how his hand decided to move in the moment

- ttid jet Cannot Write 😃 BUT i feel like he definitely has his own system, sort of like a form of shorthand thats a mix of a few basic real words he knows along with different symbols and shit. hes pretty much the only one who can decipher it, though party and kobra know the meanings of some symbols he uses a lot (like car and each of their names). if he could write (idk maybe he caves and lets party and ghoul teach him) his letters would be very loopy and his words would all sort of flow togther. it wouldnt really be proper cursive, but itd be similar, like a version of regular print whatever everythings connected (hes a painter so hed write like he paints, long strokes that flow together well). also hed probably write fairly small since he knows the value of saving space on paper and shit, and he'd dot his i's with little stars bc hes a dork

- okay both kobra and party have like VERY fucking neat handwriting bc City. but kobra's is a lot more uniform, all the letters stay at about the same size, and its a bit,,, blocky? ig would be the word? my guy absolutely struggles so fucking hard with spelling and he tends to just spell things out like they sound. he used to do that in the city and he got in Such fucking trouble (like almost sent to reeducation trouble) so once he got out to the zones, he started not correcting his spelling at all with anything, even if he knew it was wrong just to spite bli. so, hes got this really neat, almost font looking handwriting, combined with just the most random spelling and abbreviations imaginable, and yes that is why he spells kobra with a k bc "words are made up so I'll fucking write them how i wanna! fuck whatever bli says is 'correct". oh also he totally writes out little emoticon faces bc he saw someone do it over text in an old movie or something once and he was just like "hih ig this is a prewar thing? neat! now my tone will be clear no matter what im writing :D" (yes this is bc i used to do the same thing in middle school shut up)

-poison i think has like, two modes with their handwriting. like kobra, its very neat by defult because of City shit, but their letters are more bibbly and rounded, with lots of curves and curls and shit. HOWEVER, even though thats their default handwriting, they make a conscious effort a lot of the times to actually have the most chicken scratch-y handwriting as possible just bc they wanna spite bli. so when theyre writing fast or something only they think they themself are gonna see, their handwriting is super neat and pretty and like the perfect size for whatever page, but in any other circumstance they force themself to put more pressure on the pen and use sharper lines and smush letters together to fit a word that shouldn't on the page, just bc they like the idea of ruining yet another thing bli deemed as "perfect".

#asks #ttid #my headcanons #party poison #fun ghoul #kobra kid #jet star #this was SO fucking fun to answer and think abt gdhghd thanks for asking me this question!!!! :D

[theres-a-goldensky]

30 More The Untamed Fic Recs

Here we go again. Another Wangxian rec list. Are you bored of me yet?

Were these recs helpful to you? If so, you can check out my other Wangxian rec posts:

Part 1 - 40 recs

Part 2 - 23 recs

Part 3 - 23 recs

As ever, feel free to reblog.

You can also head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

1. say it's here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn - ~69,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Lan Zhan meets Wei Wuxian after he adopts a small A-Yuan, because Wei Wuxian also has a past with him. Lots of adorable family feelings and emotional hurt/comfort.

As often happened, Wei Ying’s voice preceded his entrance, calling to his co-worker through the open door, “Frankie, they forgot to order spoons again, can you hold down the fort a little longer while I —”

Lan Wangji was already looking to his entrance, head turning as if magnetized toward the voice, so he saw the moment when Wei Ying’s eyes landed on A-Yuan and the smile fell from his face. He looked stricken, and Lan Wangji immediately looked to his son in alarm. A-Yuan seemed fine. His small eyebrows were pulled together in a small frown as he looked back at Wei Ying, but that wasn’t surprising, given the expression on Wei Ying’s face. Lan Wangji had seen that face beaming, laughing, whining, wheedling, and occasionally angry, but never like this. He looked blank and hollow and it stirred something fierce in Lan Wangji: he wanted to rise up and obliterate whatever was making him look like that. Then his eyes lifted to Lan Wangji and there was a flash of something almost like betrayal, before he pressed his lips together and turned his back.

“I’m going to run out to the store and get spoons,” he said in a flat voice to his co-worker, and left without looking their way again.

2. the breaking of your soul (upon my lips) by sunsandships - ~41,000 words, mature - This is an AU of the novel where Wei Wuxian puts two and two together when Lan Zhan sneaks that kiss from him. It changes a lot of things.

Against his own will, Wei Wuxian found himself glancing at Lan Wangji’s hands. They were… certainly large enough that one of them could wrap around both of his wrists. And Lan Wangji was certainly strong enough, tall enough, broad-shouldered enough to bodily pin him against the trunk of a tree with no chance of him breaking free. Lan Wangji was the first person he’d come across in his slow comb through the vicinity of where he’d been so headily kissed.

Wei Wuxian drew a sharp breath. There was a connection to be made here. He didn’t think he was crazy enough to make it. Perhaps he truly was going slightly insane with demonic cultivation if he could believe Lan Wangji, the paragon of virtue and respectability, who lived unflinchingly under Gusu Lan’s three thousand edicts, who had at best only tolerated his presence as children, would sneak up to him while he was blindfolded, pin him against a tree, and steal a kiss from him in broad daylight.

3. and his wanting grows teeth by yukla - ~25,000 words, teen - This is a very interesting AU where Lan Zhan is a traveling cultivator and runs into Wei Wuxian and the Jiangs looking for shelter during a snowstorm. No spoilers, but this fic goes to a pretty dark place that genuinely shocked me, but I enjoyed. (Still ends well though.)

Without further ado, they are hustled past the entrance and into a smaller greeting area. Huang-bobo approaches the brazier in the center with his hands outstretched, warming his fingers in the heat, but Lan Wangji hangs back. As he carefully brushes the snow free from his shoulders, he feels the burn of a curious gaze trailing up and down his body, lingering at the guqin still strapped to his back; when the sensation pauses at his face and stays there, he lifts his head.

The boy with the ribbon lights up at the eye contact, flashes another dazzling smile, and gives a little wave.

“You must be new here,” he whispers, something like laughter threaded into his voice, eyes scrunching into winking half-moons. “All dressed up in white like that! You might lose yourself in the snowstorm!”

Something stirs to life in Lan Wangji’s chest. It’s—uncomfortable, he decides, and so he steps away. Teasing should not be encouraged with a response.

4. Ghosts Shouldn't by ShanaStoryteller - ~15,000 words, not rated - After Wei Ying's death, his spirit seems to linger. The story is told from Lan Xichen's point of view. I love an outsider point of view. I also love the way the author fleshes out his character as well.

Lan Xichen means to force his way inside, angry ghost of the Yiling Patriarch or no, but then his brother lets out slow breath, settling, the pain easing from his face as he falls back into a more peaceful sleep.

His hair is moving on its own, so subtly Lan Xichen might not have noticed it if he hadn’t been looking at Wangji so intently. It’s like someone’s running their hand through his hair.

The window frosts over suddenly, thick enough that he can’t see through it. Anxiety spikes through him so quickly he’s nauseous with it, but then the frost melts away and the opening notes of Healing start up again.

He can’t tell if it’s a warning or not. Maybe it’s just an acknowledgement. Wei Wuxian knows he’s there.

5. **leading tone by silencemostofall - ~32,000 words, general - This is a modern AU set in a world where people who love you leave a mark of color on you the first time you touch. Wei Wuxian has no color on him. So much emotional hurt/comfort. So much of Wei Wuxian's terrible self-esteem.

He can cover up his palms with his gloves, so that the blankness does not draw stares. But he has no marks on his fingertips, which he cannot easily hide, and none visible on his face or neck, the blankness of which is even more difficult to hide. People look at him and, with a single glance, understand the single most devastating truth that he knows about himself.

They assume that he does not have very many marks. He may be an eccentric, dramatic person, but the likelihood that an individual has all of their marks on, say, their feet or their torso or other places that are not immediately obvious-- that probability goes down as your number of marks increases. He can laugh as much as he wants about how he loves touching people for the first time with odd places, like the knee or the elbow, but it doesn't quite mask the feeling of other that he knows he exudes.

They assume that he does not have a lot of marks. This, while a heavy weight, is not unbearably so. It is okay that they think he is not much loved. It chafes a bit, and feels occasionally like something he has to furiously push down within himself, but it is not unbearable. What would be unbearable is if they knew the truth: that he does not just have very few marks, but none. That he is simply an individual who is not loved at all.

6. **pastel by antebunny - ~7,000 words, gen - This is a remix work of the above fic. It's from Lan Zhan's point of view and just different enough to be interesting. Still lots of emotional hurt/comfort. I love this concept a whole lot, and both of these fics are great.

It’s a simmering day in May, and Wei Ying is wearing long sleeves, long pants, and gloves.

His choice of dress isn’t unusual for many reasons. For one, there’s plenty of people who don’t like strangers seeing their soulmarks. There’s plenty of people who wish to keep them private by covering them up. For another, Wei Ying spends most of his day in various chilly computer science department rooms, He could just be wearing long sleeves for that.

7. one good thing by Yuu_chi - ~27,000 words, teen - Wei Wuxian has died (or did he??) and is haunting his old home. Lan Zhan moves in. This story has a happy ending! And so much yearning!

To the flowers struggling to grow on the other side of the glass, he says, “We’re getting a new roommate. Well, I’m getting a new roommate - you’re getting somebody who might actually be able to water you for a change.” The flowers outside sway a little in the breeze, and Wei Wuxian nods contemplatively. “He can’t be any worse than the last guy who lived here. Remember when I spooked him while he was cooking and he nearly burnt the house down? Of course you don’t. You’re fucking foliage, your memory is worse than mine. I remember though, so it’s cool.”

There’s the sound of shuffling behind him and Wei Wuxian looks up to see the stranger has entered the kitchen, setting the last of the boxes down on the table. Disgustingly neat handwriting declares the box kitchen - homeware. The stranger carefully brushes his hair back from his face and, without so much as a second of hesitation, cracks open the box and begins unpacking.

“Wow, you really don’t waste any time, do you?” Wei Wuxian marvels. “You literally just got here - who cares about unpacking? Sit down for a moment, breathe, have something to eat. It’s not going anywhere.”

8. with you, I am home by tellthemstories - ~47,000 words, mature - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is being forced to return home to entertain marriage proposals. So naturally instead he "convinces" Lan Zhan to pretend to date him. I love a good fake dating fic, and this one hits all the right beats.

Lan Zhan does that almost-smile thing that Wei Wuxian takes to mean he’s happy, or at the very least not-mad. “You don’t have any money.”

“Not true. I have the money from our last job, when we settled the vengeful spirit for the flower shop girl.” (He doesn’t. They have Lan Zhan’s money. Wei Wuxian spent his on a pack of loquats and three bottles of Emperor’s Smile wine.)

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian says. “Do it for me.”

Thinking back on it two weeks later, standing alone in the middle of Jin Ling’s graduation banquet and watching Lan Zhan walk away from him, Wei Wuxian realises that this, this was the moment when he should have known. He should have realised in the way Lan Zhan doesn’t hesitate or negotiate and just says with that half-fond, half-exasperated tone he gets sometimes, “Fine.”

9. and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen - ~11,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying can't find Lan Zhan, but hey, there happens to be a rabbit here instead. Features a very slow Wei Ying, emotional hurt/comfort and accidental love confessions.

Immediately, his heart settles and he grins down at his new friend. “Oh, hello there,” he coos, reaching out to pet the fluffy ears. The bunny is very, very still under his hand.

“Did Lan Zhan bring you today?,” he continues cooing. “I’m sorry I missed that, but your Dad didn’t tell me he was bringing you.”

Lan Zhan rarely brings his rabbits to work since they are as tolerant of crowds and unnecessary noise as he is. They were probably relevant to today’s lesson but…

Wei Ying frowns. “Why would he leave you alone? And where is your cage?”

10. how, or when, or from where by sarahyyy - ~10,000 words, gen - Wei Ying wakes up in the hospital with amnesia and can't remember the last few years of his life, including his best friend and the guy he's in love with.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes so hard Wei Wuxian is surprised his eyeballs don’t just fall out of his eye sockets. “That’s the worst part. He did. Whatever mating ritual you both have going on is so fucking weird, Wei Wuxian.” He snorts. “If you’d stayed asleep for any longer, I’d have lost my shit and thrown my myself out a window just so I wouldn’t have to talk to Lan Wangji again.”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him. “Is this a good time to ask who Lan Wangji is?”

Jiang Cheng glares at him. “Your Lan Zhan,” he says, annoyed. Wei Wuxian must look as confused as he feels, because Jiang Cheng’s annoyance bleeds out into concern. “Your Lan er-gege? Your soulmate, Lan Wangji?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head. “No bells are ringing.”

11. ** a shared plate by yukla - ~26,000 words, teen - This is an absolutely gorgeous fic about Wei Wuxian traveling the world post-canon to rediscover himself and restore his faith in humanity and eventually find his way back to Lan Zhan. The whole thing is great, but the last two chapters are just *chef's kiss*

Lan Zhan,

Just as the mountains stand unchanging and the green rivers flow ceaselessly, we will meet again — and between then and now, you cannot hope to avoid my letters, either! Haha! Lan Zhan, I’ve seen so many things and met so many people, and it’s only been a month!

I miss you already

It’s so hot that I find myself missing the wind in Gusu’s mountains. Your poor Wei Ying is I’m melting away, Lan Zhan...

I’m realizing now, sixteen years is a long time to be away — the world is vast, and quite a bit different than I remembered. And in sixteen years, a child can also grow up into a man! It’s your job to catch me up on A-Yuan’s fun childhood stories! I do remember hearing something about a pile of rabbits...

12. with your arms outstretched to me by annemari - ~14,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan finally gets up the nerve to ask Wei Ying on a date, but things don't go as expected. Features emotional hurt/comfort (are we sensing a theme with these recs??) and just regular hurt/comfort.

"Oh, man, I was hoping you had some water with you," Wei Ying says. "I totally forgot to bring any for myself. Stupid of me."

"There is enough for both of us," Lan Wangji says. He has another bigger bottle in the car, as well.

Wei Ying hums but he only takes a few sips. He presses it back into Lan Wangji's hand. "I don't need any more."

Lan Wangji is considering arguing, but then Wei Ying shifts a bit, moving his ankle, and gasps very, very quietly.

13. ** A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart - ~22,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian has finished traveling and returned to the Cloud Recesses and Lan Zhan. But their lives never do run smoothly.

“Lan Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, recognizing him after a moment. His heart slams against his rib cage. “Where is Lan Zhan? What’s happened?”

Lan Jingyi flaps a hand at him, gulping air. Wei Wuxian hands him the water, and leans back against Little Apple’s side as he waits impatiently for the boy to get his breath back.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Jingyi gasps, just as Wei Wuxian is about to throttle a proper answer out of him. “Hanguang Jun was in such a state when he woke up, we didn’t know if you’d come and gone already.”

“Where is he, Jingyi,” Wei Wuxian says, as evenly as he can. “What happened?”

14. So Why Not Crack Your Skull When the Mind Swells by greenteafiend - ~14,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel extraordinary pain unless he's touching Lan Zhan. Yet more of Wei Wuxian's self-esteem issues and Lan Zhan's steadfast devotion.

“Are you hurt, Wei Ying?” Lan Wangji asks, pressing his hand to Wei Ying’s forehead to feel his temperature. There is no fever, but that doesn’t do much to mitigate Lan Wangji’s worries.

“No—I’m not hurt,” says Wei Ying, sagging forward to lean his weight into Lan Wangji’s hand like he can’t help himself.

It’s so strange—Lan Wangji can feel what Wei Ying is feeling. Although the relief is still very profound, wisps of other things are making themselves known; happiness; wistfulness; guilt. It’s all so fleeting that Lan Wangji can’t even begin to deduce what has provoked those feelings, but he wishes he knew their source.

15. puzzle pieces by Anonymous - ~6,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are roommates, and Wei Ying has started borrowing Lan Zhan's clothes.

“Hm? Oh.” With sleepy eyes that does— things to Lan Zhan’s heart, he blinks and tugs at the lower hem of the shirt, which is riding just above the curve of his thighs. Does Lan Zhan’s mouth water? Maybe. Yes. Absolutely. “Ah, yeah, sorry. Laundry day caught up to me before I could catch up with it. I saw this shirt left in the washer a few days ago, and—“ He blinks up at Lan Zhan through dark eyelashes that Lan Zhan wants to kiss, maybe, and gives him an uncharacteristically hesitant smile. “Do you mind?”

I mind the fact that we are not married, Lan Zhan thinks. But he can’t say that, and his tongue doesn’t know how to say anything else. So he stays silent.

“Oh,” Wei Ying says after a moment. “If you—oh, damn, I should’ve known, this is like real silk, must’ve been super expensive. Fuck. Okay, here, uh, I’ll take it off—“

16. ** Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl - ~60,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Ying is trying to be a good brother and get Jiang Cheng laid. Somehow this plan involves pretending to date Lan Zhan.

"I won't!" Wei Ying insists. "I'll ask out someone...high stakes. I'll find someone. I'll...okay, how's this? I swear that I'll ask someone out and keep at it for at least two dates."

"No."

"Three dates."

"Nope."

"Okay, okay, five. That's fair! That's more than fair! One person, five dates." He points at Jiang Cheng. "You have to do it, too. That's how a pact works."

Jiang Cheng stares at him. "Five dates," he says flatly. "Five. And yours can't be Nie Huaisang."

17. i'm the one for your fire by occultings (microcomets) - ~43,000 words, explicit - This is a Modern AU and a Cherry Magic AU! (Side note: GO WATCH CHERRY MAGIC IF YOU HAVEN'T.) But in short, Wei Ying turns 30 without losing his virginity and gets the power to hear people's thoughts when he touches them. He gets more than he bargained for with Lan Zhan. The author does a good job of translating the story to these characters. Wei Ying is not forced to be like Adachi, the main character of Cherry Magic. He's still himself, and the same goes for Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan’s voice is so clear, so sudden that it’s as though it’s spoken, the slice of a sharp object through velvet.

He’s touching me.

Wei Ying startles for a moment, wonders if he’d somehow heard his own thoughts instead, but — no, that had definitely been Lan Zhan’s steady, factual baritone, loud and clear.

God, this is still so weird. It still doesn’t seem totally real. But how else can he account for hearing Lan Zhan’s voice in his head, as clearly as if he’d spoken to Wei Ying directly?

18. like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar - ~37,000 words, teen - Modern AU where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are roommates, and Lan Zhan just finds himself wanting to take care of Wei Ying.

Lan Wangji’s roommate. Is a problem.

He doesn’t get an answer to the roommate problem until the next morning, when Lan Xichen texts him telling him that the apartment he’d suggested (and helped pay rent for) to Lan Wangji said in the small text that it’d be two people per apartment, the second bedroom wasn’t actually a guest bedroom, sorry, Wangji, you can move in with me if you want, I have space —

No. Thank you for your kind offer, Brother, but I will be quite fine, Lan Wangji texts back.

19. ** some impulse of delight by handclaps - ~20,000 words, explicit - College AU where Wei Ying decides he needs to help Lan Zhan get used to touching people. Lan Zhan agrees. Wei Ying is dumb and in love. Lan Zhan is less dumb, but still as in love.

Lan Zhan shakes his head and fumbles, tries to push the cotton wool into Wei Wuxian’s hand.

“Sorry,” Wei Wuxian says, realising. “Touching people, I know.”

He feels dumb. He thought he’d worn Lan Zhan down more than this, that they were friends now and that his whole no touching thing was mostly overcome. He took Wei Wuxian’s hand easily, right? He looks down at his belly full of scratches, dabbing at them moodily.

“Sorry,” he says, again.

Lan Zhan makes some kind of noise, but he is busy packing the first aid kit back, placing everything exactly where it was before.

“Lan Zhan, you’re going to have to do something about this,” Wei Wuxian complains. “I know you don’t like touching people and usually it plays as a kind of gentlemanly thing, but what about emergencies?”

20. And I Will Call You Home by Spodumene - ~43,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian returns after a year of traveling and rejoins Lan Zhan in the Cloud Recesses. He's doing a good job of pining and ignoring the obvious. Look, at this point, it shouldn't be a surprise that I'm a sucker for stories where Wei Wuxian deals with his ~*~issues~*~ and Lan Zhan takes care of him, whether he asks for it or not. This story has lots of that. I also enjoyed the case fic aspect of it.

“I do, I think,” Wei Wuxian admits. “Would be nice to see his face again after so long. And at least this time, I’m going to show up draped in finery. What do you think, Lan Zhan? I can’t possibly disgrace him—or you—wearing a cloak like that.”

“You could never disgrace me,” Lan Wangji says gently, that soft, affectionate look back on his face.

Wei Wuxian grins, warmed to the tips of his toes.

“I’ll remind you of that later. The next time I’m three jars deep and feeling especially shameless, you’ll have to remember those words, Lan Er-gege.”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says simply.

Wei Wuxian smiles some more, overwhelmed by fondness.

21. darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter - ~7,000 words, explicit - Wei Wuxian really, really wants Lan Zhan to call him 'gege'. Lan Zhan knows a trump card when he sees one.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

Lan Wangji knows he will not stop, regardless of what he calls him. Still, he thinks about it. If there really is a way to make Wei Wuxian stop, should he not consider it? He doesn’t have any real interest in curbing his husband’s insatiable mischievousness, but he does like knowing things about him—everything there is to know.

If there’s something that persuasive in the world, that it can bring Wei Wuxian into submission when no one is under threat, could he stop himself from seeking it?

22. your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - ~11,000 words, gen - Wei Wuxian & Lan Sizhui fic with the Wangxian in the background. Lan Sizhui wants another dad and Wei Wuxian wants a son, they just don't know how to explain that to each other.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

Lan Sizhui tucks his chin into his uncle’s shoulder, and lets his eyes fall closed.

“It doesn’t hurt too much, does it?” Wen Ning whispers to him kindly.

Lan Sizhui takes a deep breath, and takes stock of all his aches, his ringing ear, his hollow chest, the way he had selfishly wanted Wei Wuxian to keep speaking to him in that careful voice, like he was just a child to be soothed and there was no real danger. How dangerous, to pretend. “No,” he lies. “It doesn’t hurt that much at all.”

23. when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool - ~26,000 words, teen - AU where Lan Zhan with Wei Wuxian to Jin Ling's one-month celebration. Things go down, and it leads to Lan Zhan discovering Wei Wuxian's missing golden core. This obviously will not do, and oh look, the best doctor in the world just happens to be right here.

“How—“ Lan Wangji chokes. “His core —?” He looks at Wen Ning, half accusatory in his shock. “Jin Zixun could not have—“

“No, no!” Wen Ning says, holding out his hands. “He hasn’t had one for years, don’t worry!”

This is not as reassuring as Wen Ning seems to think.

“Please explain,” Lan Wangji says, pained. He feels for Wei Wuxian’s pulse instead; in the absence of a golden core, it will have to do as reassurance that he’s still alive.

Wen Ning is so anxious that the story comes out in a ramble, out of order. Lan Wangji wants him to hurry up, but he’s also not confident in his own ability to speak, so he just keeps quiet and lets him talk. His heart feels as if it’s about to fall from his chest, beating nearly twice as fast as Wei Wuxian’s does under his fingers.

24. A Match in the Making by lareine - ~30,000 words, teen - A Modern AU where Wei Wuxian sees his single and bad ass friend Lan Zhan and his single and bad ass friend Mianmian and gets some very dumb ideas.

To return to the point: Lan Zhan was peak adulting. Mianmian was peak adulting. And if they were both at the peak, then they were on the same level. What level? That mysterious level thing that everyone mentioned when it came to dating.

Whatever level it was, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were on it together. Wei Ying nodded to himself. So, Lan Zhan and Mianmian were allowed to date each other. The next question was: were they compatible? Did they have chemistry or whatever the fuck people called it?

25. Crack me open, pour you out by Tenillypo - ~16,000 words, explicit - Lan Zhan gets cursed to say whatever he's thinking. So his worst nightmare. Mutual pining, first time, all good stuff.

Lan Wangji freezes with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, lifting his eyes to stare at Wei Ying.

"I know! Just completely paralyzed." Wei Ying mimes being still as a board. "I don't know how long I lay there. It must have been two days at least. Good thing for Little Apple. He wandered back to the village when he got hungry, and eventually a few of them got brave enough to come look for me. When they rolled me over, the figure fell out of my hand and I could move again. Cunning little thing." He shakes his head. "I was weak as a kitten for a little while after they took me back to the village, and by the time I recovered, they'd burned the whole place to the ground. Such a waste."

Lan Wangji slowly lowers his chopsticks, heart racing unpleasantly. In his head, a picture of Wei Ying slowly wasting to death alone in the middle of the woods, with Lan Wangji a hundred miles away and none the wiser.

26. Crazy, Rich Cultivators by ShanaStoryteller - 13,000 words, no rating - Lan Zhan wants to bring his boyfriend home to meet his family. There are some things he definitely didn't realize about Wei Ying.

“He has a life here,” he says down the line. He doesn’t say that he has a life here too, one he likes a lot more than the one he had before. He misses home. He’d miss Wei Ying more. But he doesn’t say that, doesn’t say how vibrant he is and how beautiful and how little interest Lan Zhan has at seeing him among the high society he grew up with.

“Well, your life is here, Wangji,” his brother says. “You can’t stay away from home forever. You’re going to have to see how he does with the rest of us sooner or later. It might as well be sooner.”

It might as well be never, as far as he’s concerned. His family can meet Wei Ying at their wedding.

“I’ll ask,” he says.

Wei Ying has no interest in cultivation politics. They’re horrible, the five clans have an iron tight alliance that’s thirty seconds away from collapsing in on itself the moment someone from one sect steps on another sect’s toes. It’s the worst and he hates it. Surely even just the idea of it will be so horrifying to Wei Ying that Lan Zhan will be able to tell his brother no.

27. just our hands clasped so tight by electrum ~4,000 words, teen - Lan Zhan really, really, really just wants to give Wei Ying everything he wants.

“Despite your best efforts,” Wei Wuxian agrees. He shakes his head in mock-dismay. “How much longer do you think that will last if you keep buying everything I look at?” When this, too, fails to soften Lan Zhan’s resolve, he tries a different tactic. “We couldn’t even afford potatoes,” he says. “Back when I was with the Wens, at the Burial Mounds. Only radishes! If I survived that, I can certainly survive without another pretty comb.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is at once unmoved and yet somehow stricken. “I would have bought Wei Ying potatoes,” he says, like Wei Wuxian doesn’t know, by this point, that Lan Zhan would buy him anything. “If I had known…”

28. ** Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller - ~64,000 words, no rating - Jin Ling & Wei Wuxian with Wangxian in the background. Jin Ling is the best boy! And as he tries to rehabilitate his sect and his family and keep himself alive at the same time, he realizes, horrifyingly, that he has to be the mature one.

29. ** an act too often neglected by Ariaste - Lan Xichen / Meng Yao, ~61,000 words, explicit - The Wangxian is in the background here, but the main story is about Lan Xichen meeting Meng Yao on a dating app and getting immediately dickmatized. Meanwhile. Meng Yao refuses to be won over by Lan Xichen's charm. It goes as well as you'd expect for him.

The caption below is equally sparse: “5’6. Demanding.”

Lan Xichen feels a low simmer of arousal kindle in the pit of his stomach, and he gazes at that word-- demanding --for nearly as long as he’d stared at the photograph. He swipes right.

A few minutes later, a notification pops up: < Hm, the size of your hands is promising.

This is familiar. This is the flirtation stage. Lan Xichen knows the steps to the dance.

30. My Land Beneath Me by longleggedgit - ~30,000 words, explicit - Modern AU where Wei Wuxian is cast out of his sect and out of China to America. And Lan Zhan just...follows.

Lan Zhan always waited for his tea to cool before drinking, which meant he had nothing to do but give Wei Wuxian a judgmental look. “No more McDonald’s.”

“You’re just bitter because you get indigestion from anything that actually tastes good,” Wei Wuxian grumbled.

Because Lan Zhan was insufferably mature and patient, he didn’t rise to the bait. “We have time to stop somewhere before class,” he said.

“Fine. But you’re paying this time.”

It was a bad joke, and predictably, fell flat; Lan Zhan was, after all, paying for everything, every time. Wei Wuxian frowned into his mug.

“You know,” he said, after another swallow, “you really don’t have to be here. I’m going to figure something out.”

*

Interested in 86 more The Untamed fic recs?

Part 1 - 40 recs Part 2 - 23 recs Part 3 - 23 recs

#the untamed fic #the untamed #master of demonic cultivation #wangxian fic recs #wangxian fic #mdzs #lan xichen/jin guangyao #lan zhan #wei wuxian/lan wangji #wei wuxian #jin ling #lan sizhui #mxtx novels

[salsdemise]

Can I request a Sally face x reader fic? Possibly a confession and first kiss an da party or something like that, thank you!

Hey anon, sorry if this is bad, I'm assuming you meant sal, and if not just lmk and I'll re-write this for another character if you want.

Warnings: Underage drinking, underaged smoking, parties, y/n used in place of your name, really awkward with the confession part? idk how to write those

word count: 1479

other: gender neutral terms used, sal's speech is in blue bc sometimes its unclear whos talking bc i didn't know what to put between the words spoken lol playlist listened to while writing: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5SMv6Go27KIcbfL07wkQ4m

This party wasn’t where you wanted to be right now. Hell, you’d rather be at school, getting pushed around by the kids in the hall right now. Anywhere was better than this loud, flashy,party filled with the smell of cigs, weed, alcohol and sex wafting off of every teen you passed.

Why you had come to this party in the first place had slipped your mind, as now you were more focused on not getting backed into a corner with a potted plant by a group of your peers. Maybe it was because your friend Larry wouldn’t shut up about how fun it was going to be, maybe it was because you would have felt bad saying no, or maybe it was because you certainly weren’t going to pass up on an opportunity to potentially hang out with Sal Fisher, your long time crush and close friend.

Holding your now empty red cup, you navigated your way through the crowd of drunken and dancing teens, most who were nice and giggly as you passed, slurring apologies at you if they bumped you.

While you weren’t all sober yourself, you had enough remaining cognitive ability to form full thoughts, and the only one on your mind was finding one of two people; Sal or Larry. You had no doubt Larry was off smoking with gods know who, so that left one option, and if your brain wasn’t mistaking you, you had seen the electric-bluenette near the door to the backyard in the kitchen not too long ago. So that’s where you set your sights.

When you arrived at the kitchen, you were happy to know that you were indeed correct on where you had last seen Sal, just outside on the patio, sitting hunched over a cup, the bottom straps of his prosthetic undone and dangling. Murmuring a few ‘excuse me’s at the teens you passed on the way, you made your way out to the back, opening and exiting the door and catching the bluenette’s attention. Seating yourself next to him, you said nothing, not sure of what to say.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show. Lar said you were coming, but I thought he was bluffing again,” Sal spoke, sipping on his drink.

You laughed at this, “yea, no, he actually convinced me to come. Not sure how, but he did. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you here either. You always talk about how much you hate parties, especially ones that have inebriating drinks,” you set your cup down next to you, and a small breeze knocked it over as soon as your hand left it.

“I don’t, hate em. Managed to get someone to get me something non-alcoholic, though. What have you had to drink?” He motioned to your, now rolling, red cup to emphasize.

“Oh, nothing too strong. They had a punch bowl in there so I took some of that,” thinking back to it as you spoke, it was odd the hosts of this party put a punch bowl out at a party with no need for it. However, you and Sal both seemingly shrugged it off and continued talking.

Conversation between the two of you had always come so naturally, switching between topics and tones, talking about people, your home state, his home state, and the likes.

“Man, I cannot believe he did that! It was like, super awkward between us for a week,“ you laughed, finishing a story about how Larry had tried to ask you out when high. Luckily the guy wasn’t too upset and took no for an answer.

“Hey, y/n, about asking people out...have you ever done it?” Sal questioned, messing with his sweater sleeves now that his drink was gone and his cup had also flown off.

“Oh, uh, not like, here at Nockfell, but in the past I asked a guy in my grade to go to a valentine’s day dance with me. Why?” you responded, tilting your head at him.

“I want to ask this person out, but I’m not sure how.”

“Oh. Well, what do they like? How long have you known them? And how close are you two? You can’t just ask out a random person you barely know, it won’t go well.”

“Well, they like a lot so it’s...kinda hard to put into words. I’ve known them for years now, and I’d like to say we’re pretty close.”

Thinking, you went quiet. As much as it hurt you to know your crush liked someone else, you were going to help him as best you could.

“Well, I’d give them a note, personally. I’d probably piss myself if I tried to tell them upfront. But it depends on how you wanna do it.”

Sal quietly thinks for a few seconds before standing up and fixing his mask, “Thanks for your help dude. We should get going, I’ll go find Larry and we can get out of here.”

You nod, standing and following Sal back into the house, heading for the front door while Sal went off to find Larry. With your mutual friend acquired, you all left for home, depositing Larry at his place and heading to your own beds, tired now that the social buzz had worn off.

Over the next week, you and Sal talked less and less, notes popped up in your locker, and small things like patches, stickers, pins and snacks appeared with them. You were confused to say the least. You loved everything this admirer gave you, and the notes were adorable, even if they were typed and printed rather than hand written, but you wondered why Sal had stopped talking to you as often as he did.

As the weeks progressed, you had started to like the secret admirer that was leaving you small gifts and notes reminding you how much they liked you. But the most recent note, which you had gotten on a sunny and warm Wednesday, really caught your attention. This time, it was handwritten in blue pen ink, the handwriting surprisingly neat, completely eliminating who you thought it was.

The note read: “y/n, meet me in the courtyard during lunch/break time. -<3”, and not wanting to disappoint, you waited with an uneasy shake until lunch came around where you went straight to the courtyard. Seeing no one, you sat on the ground by a tree to wait until your secret admirer got there.

10 minutes later, the heavy doors opened and closed with a thud, catching your attention and causing you to look up where you saw Sal, mask in hands, and looking down.

“Sal? Are you the one that wanted to meet me here?” You were..puzzled to say the least. Sal had hardly talked to you in weeks, and you thought he liked someone else like Ash, but it seems you were mistaken.

“Uh, yea, I am. I know you’re..probably upset at me for not talking to you in the past few weeks, but I didn’t want to say something stupid too soon. I hope you’re not too mad..”

“Sal, I’m not mad. I thought you were busy trying to get your mystery person to like you..and I guess I was right, but I didn’t think it’d be me..”

“Who else would it have been? You and I are as close as Larry and I are, we like the same things and I’ve known you since you got here. Hell, I’ve been pining over you for years now, but last year when Lar told me he was gonna try and shoot his shot, I tried to get myself to like Ash so I wouldn’t feel like shit if you said yes.”

“Oh, Sal. I thought it was Ash, you talk so much about her sometimes, I thought you actually liked her.”

“Oh, no, I don’t. She helped me with this, actually. Which reminds me, if its not obvious already, I really fucking like you. Like, you make me feel happy and just thinking about you makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.”

Smiling at his words you stood to go over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders so he would look up at you, “I like you too, Sal. Like, a lot. I have for a while, and when you asked how to ask someone out,I..it hurt a little bit.”

Saying nothing at your words, Sal moved forward and wrapped you in a hug, his mask landing in the grass behind you two. Before you could return the hug, Sal backed up and his hands grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. Giving you time to react this time, you kissed back, your hands placing themselves over his.

Now, sitting at a college party with your boyfriend, you think to yourself, ‘Maybe parties aren’t so bad after all.’

#sally face #sal fisher #sally face x reader #sally face game #sal fisher x y/n #gn!reader

[cthulhuliet]

Hi hi ~~ big fan of your Lawlight work * chef kiss * So, if it serves to inspire you I got this little idea! NSFW A huge hc of mine is that Light loves L reading for him with that hot British accent of his, like come on, L`s dubbed voice with a brit accent??*agressive chef kiss* SOO imagine Light resting his head on L`s lap while L is reading to him and things get lewd in the novel :D maybe things coul get lewd in reality too 👀👀 oh, and another hc of mine is that Light rides D like a pro so ... maybe something with both? if you'd like 👉👈 No pressure at all tho!

Thank you so much for your kind words :') I am a fan of your Lawlight work as well, and even though it took a two weeks or so (my bad) I really hope you enjoy! (it also, as always, turned out to be a lot longer than I meant it).

close your eyes and imagine it

3.1k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, general kink, you know the drill

Most of the dreams were incomprehensible nonsense, and L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents. “Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one. Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit.

OR

The one where Light discovers a dream journal he had written during the Kira investigation and can't help but be embarrassed by L's role in his fantasies. L, of course, does not mind. -

“A dream journal?” L questioned. He closed his laptop and Light smirked, raising an eyebrow, holding the notebook in his hands. L crossed the room and took the journal from Light, “Where did you find this?”

Light shrugged, “On my bookshelf with a lot of my other textbooks and such.”

“How old is this?”

“Was in my late teens, I suspect.”

L flipped through the book idly, Light’s neat handwriting was pleasant and clean compared to L’s own scrawled and messy penmanship. The pages slightly stuck together, as the old notebook seemed to have not been touched in years. L stopped at a page and briefly read the contents and looked at the date, before his own eyes widened.

“Hang on, this is during-”

“The Kira investigation? Yeah.” Light’s slight smirk turned into a large cheshire. “I figured you might be interested in reading what I wrote.”

L bit his bottom lip, looking up at Light, one eyebrow raised, “Does the Death Note still give you nightmares to this day?”

Shrugging, Light came up to L and looked over his shoulder at the notebook, “I mean, sometimes? But I also believe that having nightmares is just a part of being a person.”

“Or you have become so numb to your own murderous tendencies the nightmares do not affect you that much anymore.” L muttered, just loud enough for Light to hear.

He did hear him, of course, and he retaliated by shoving L hard enough for him to fall backwards onto their bed. Light socked L on the arm when he flopped down onto his back as well as L went to read Light’s journal to himself.

“Leave me alone, Light, can’t you see I am busy?” L teased, which earned him another hit on his arm, “You are being bothersome.”

Light crossed his arms, now sitting next to L laying down on the bed, “Those are my dreams, you are not reading without me, obviously.”

“Well then lie down so I can read them to you.” Light was the most frustrating man that L had ever been with. He wouldn’t have him any other way.

L sat up and rested his back against the headboard. Light assumed his usual position and rested his head on L’s lap. L idly put his hands through Light soft brown locks, twirling his soft hair through his fingers.

This was not an unusual position to find the pair in. Light often requests that L read to him, the other man finding the restrained but smooth baritone of L’s voice to be incredibly attractive, but also incredibly calming to listen to. It is not the first time his voice has been complimented, and it certainly will not be the last. Sayu has told L multiple times that he should become a voice over actor. He politely declined. The rest of the people do not matter, really. The only praise he needs is when Light humbly hands him a book he reads before bed, and falls asleep to L’s voice quicker than any amount reading on his own.

“‘ April 1st, 2004: I was present for class at To-Oh university, however we were all forced to give a presentation about when we believe all of our classmates will die and why. This was a horribly dark and drab lecture hall, and I had forgotten my cue cards about why Sakurano Mari was going to die due to dementia .’  This is not exactly a fun read.”

“It was not exactly fun to think about either.”

“I am going to find a different one.”

L used one hand to run his fingers through Light’s hair and the other to flip through the journal, skimming through the contents. Most of the recounts were incomprehensible nonsense, though there is no judgement to be had there. Whenever L does sleep, most of his dreams are disconnected fragments of stories -- feelings and emotions rather than a complete narrative.

L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents.

“Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one.”

“Are you?”

“Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit:

“‘ Damn that Ryuzaki. He is plaguing my thoughts not only during the day, but I cannot even escape the damn bastard in my dreams’, I love you too, dearest ,” L sardonically snided. Light pinched his thigh , “ ‘Last night's events were particularly egregious, as this is not the first time something like this has happened, but I feel mortified even writing this down. Though, maybe if I recount what happened (like with the nightmares) these dreams will go down in their numbers.

“‘Ryuzaki and myself were in the library studying next to one another. I was eating a biscotti with tea. As it was in my mouth, Ryuzaki came up and bit off the end of my biscotti and just chuckled at me. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, but I just know I felt really hot an -’”

“L…” Light gripped his thigh dangerously, “What are you doing.” It was phrased as a question, but Light said it as a command. He ignored him. Light was never the one to give out commands anyway.

“‘ I cannot remember much but the next moment Ryuzaki’s lips were on my neck. Everything was fuzzy, but I could feel him biting marks into me and was teasing me by grinding against my di- ’”

Light growled, “I’m taking this away from you. Now.” He moved to sit up, but L’s hand was still in his hair. L gripped his roots harshly and shoved him back down. Light whined at the action, swallowing hard.

“You are not going anywhere.” That was a command, and Light took it as such.

“This is mortifying…” Light muttered against the mattress, his speech breathy.

L hummed and pulled Light’s hair up, forcing him to look at him, “I disagree.” He lied. “You are going to be good and listen to me read this whole thing.”

Light laughed, cocky, though his eyes were glassy with flushed cheeks, “Oh yeah? Or what?”

“Or how about I get to come and you don’t, hmm?” Light opened his mouth and closed it again, face flushed with shame. L let go of his hair and Light buried his head in L’s lap. L smirked and chuckled, “You are so adorable, all blushy and embarrassed…” Light whined at that, running his fingernail down the inside of L’s thigh.

“‘ This is not the first time this has happened, though I have to admit, it was the best incident. Even hazy, I had never felt that sensitive and stimulated. I just wanted to stay like that forever.’” L had one hand on the book, the other held a distracted, but firm, grip in Light’s hair, who was presently biting his lip and running soft strokes over L’s cock. “‘It was even better when I got to put my mouth on Ryuzaki. I have never sucked a dick before, so my brain could only supply what it imagines it feels like, but it was not even that that made it so good. Ryuzaki would hold my hair tight and look down at me while I was on my knees. He kept telling me that I was a slut, but that I was doing such a good job for him. Even before this I thought Ryuzaki had such a nice voice, I wish I could hear him more…’ You think my voice is nice, huh?” L asked, keeping his voice level, as Light’s feather touches became firm palming.

He groaned again, “Tch, shut up.”

“No.” L pulled him by his hair, forcing Light to look him in the eye, “I think it is time you shut up.” In only a few seconds, L manhandled Light and dropped him to his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed. L sat at the end, grabbing the journal with one hand and undoing his jeans with the other. “How many times have you sucked dick since writing this? Hundreds?” Light finished the job of removing L’s pants and underwear, his cock standing erect in front of him, “C’mon cock-slut, show me what you got.”

Light eagerly took L in his mouth, expertly utilizing his tongue on his head. L closed his eyes and tried to not become overwhelmed by the sensation. He opened his eyes to see Light’s cocky doe-eyes staring back up at him.

“What was it that you dreamed of? My hand tight in your hair, fucking your mouth, telling you you’re being a good slut, right?” L asked, rhetorically as he returned his hand to harshly grip Light’s locks. He slowly moved Light’s head up and down, spit dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. Light’s face was blood red with humiliation and lust, it was perfect.

L bit his lip as Light took him all the way down his throat, refusing to be the one to break first. He picked up the journal again, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the work in front of him. “‘ Ryuzaki kept calling me good boy, telling me I was taking him so well, and never had anyone ever made him feel as good as I was. I felt so overwhelmed. I had never felt such extreme desire for anyone, but I think at that moment I would do anything for him.’ Do you still want to hear all that? Still want me to call you a good boy, and tell you you are taking me so well?”

Light groaned around L’s cock, the vibrations from his throat sent a shiver up his spine and L suppressed a needy whine on his end. After years of doing this, Light knows exactly how to push him to the very edge-- to give him so much and yet not enough.

“‘ My memory gets a little fuzzy here, but Ryuzaki laid down on the desk, and he grabbed me by the thighs so hard I think I would have had bruises in reality. I grabbed him by the throat and rode him on the desk. A part of me was worried, because the conference room in the library was all glass, but also my head was so hazy and it felt so good.’” L pressed a thumb against his lips, “Had Light fucked himself on toys at this point?”

He pulled off of L, slowly stroking him as he thought about it, “I think at that time I had. I only realized I was not straight shortly after high school, and my sexual drive moved pretty fast after that.”

“‘Shortly after high school’, shortly after meeting me, right?” L smirked. Light opened his mouth to attempt a retort, but just narrowed his eyes.

“Such an egomaniac you are,” Light scoffed, “Not everything is about you.”

“No, not everything. But this is.” L reached under their bed and pulled out a box of toys and lube. He casually tossed the bottle and a large blue dildo in front of Light, “Stretch yourself open with that. I want to see you.”

“You don’t want to do it yourself?”

“Like you have earned that privilege yet.” L leaned forward (careful to not fall off the edge) and grabbed Light by the chin, forcing him to look L in the eye, “You’re going to open yourself up on that cock, and when your slutty hole is ready for me, you can ride me like in your fantasies.”

He could almost see the blood rushing to Light’s ears-- being literally talked down to-- condescended and scolded like a child. And yet, his pupils were blown all the way out, L barely seeing the amber color of Light’s eyes, and his jeans and underwear were, of course, already halfway to his ankles.

Light took the tip of the toy and fucked his mouth in and out with it, eyes never leaving L’s. He was already 3 fingers deep inside of himself, lewdly moaning around the cock very intentionally.

“This is a good look for you,” L remarked, breathily, slowly stroking his own cock.

Light suctioned the dick to the hardwood, and hovered over it, teasing his hole with the tip, “Well, if you are going to keep calling me a slut- fuck… I might as well lean into it.” Light bottomed out on the toy, one hand running through his hair, another sucking on two fingers as he slowly moved. Light, flushed and fucked out and using himself, was the pinnacle of sex and desire-- L began to question his decision about who exactly this was a punishment for.

“Ngh, this cock is so big , L… But it doesn’t feel nearly as good as yours.” Light dragged his teeth across the bottom of his lip, pointed looking at L’s cock, now leaking precum. Light knew he was getting to L. He knew exactly how he looked and exactly what L was thinking.

Fucker. Two can play at that.

L slowed down his own movements, raising an eyebrow at Light, “A common whore like yourself would be satisfied with any cock inside of him. You want mine so bad? Close your eyes, think…” L held the book open with one hand, “‘ I feel like I am going crazy. I am supposed to want this stupid bastard dead. And yet all I want right now are my hands on him and his on mine-’” Light groaned, finally touching his neglected aching cock, “‘-and it is so hard to focus on bringing him down, when the entire time I am dreaming about Ryuzaki’s voice in my ear, and my hands around his throat, and his tongue and mouth on me everywhere . I may just have to take care of him so I stop feeling this way... ’ My my, Kira... ” Light groaned at the name, “I thought you would be a bit more careful than to let your inner thoughts so out in the open like this. What would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of this?”

“I- Fuck- Academic rivalries are not uncommon....”

“I wanted to sentence you to death and you still could not stop thinking about me inside of you-”

“Oh shit L…”

“-or my hands on your cock or my fingers stretching you wide open. You still want me to whisper in your ear and moan , telling you what a good boy you are, right?”

“Yes… yes I want that L…”

L tutted, “And yet you aren’t a good boy. Desperate and begging… Writing down naughty thoughts and fantasies about someone who you wanted to die?” L shook his head, casually tossing the book aside. He reached for his own cock again, slowly stroking it watching Light fall apart, giving himself dual sensations, “Kira needs to make up his mind about what he wants. Because I don’t think he is good at all.”

“ L please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please let me on your cock.”

“Why would I allow that?”

Light stopped his movements on the dildo, only slowly stroking his cock at the same speed as L was his own, “I am not a good boy, I am a cock-slut for you, and only ever you. Fuck me please,” Light begged, broken and desperate.

L stood up and grabbed Light’s hands, pulling him off of the toy. He brushed the hair out of Light’s eyes and pulled Light on top of him, “So good, Kira. You don’t have to be a good boy for me, you can just be my good slut.”

He kissed L, hard, biting his bottom lip as he lined himself up on L’s dick and sunk down on him.

“ Fuck, you feel so much better than that cheap plastic,” Light straddled L properly, pressing his hands against L’s chest as he rode him, not wasting anytime picking up speed.

“Such a good whore for me, Kira,” L said, kissing his wrist, “You really do ride cock like you get paid to do it.”

“I know,” Light said, breathy and fucked.

L huffed, “A bit cocky, aren-”

“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Light said, pressing down on L’s pressure points, his fingertips pushing hard enough into his throat it will surely leave marks against his pale skin.

L’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and Light moved his hips faster, L snapping back up to meet his thrusts, which quickly became sloppy as black dots began dancing in the corners of his eyes and his lungs started burning. His eyes welled up with tears and his entire body was on fire, his limbs going limp. He felt the white, hot edge so close and tangible. Every thrust felt like a rattle of electricity hitting every nerve and every part of his consciousness so closely and he just needed more -- Light relented, moving his hands away from his throat. L eyes snapped open wide and he coughed, taking heavy breaths. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he dug his fingertips into Light’s waist, harshly grabbing him by the hips.

“L? I’m sorry, you told me you would tap out if-”

“Kira, more-- again-- now.” L commanded, and Light did not hesitate. He grabbed him by the throat and put his fingers in L’s mouth for good measure. Light was riding him with expert pace and precision, his lower body strength and years of running paying off. L’s legs trembled, and he used the last bit of his unfucked mind to dig his nails into Light’s hips and rock him faster and faster on his cock, reaching that beautiful and terrible and intense edge.

“ Ah- L! ” Light comes only a few seconds before L himself, moaning around Light’s fingers as he loosened his grip, but still only letting a fraction of the air healthy for the human brain into his head.

Light did not move himself off of L immediately. He moved his hand away from his throat, but kept small pressure on his neck with one of his thumbs.

“What are you doing?” L muttered. Light said nothing. L opened his eyes, tapping him. “Light?”

Light blinked, looking back, “Sorry, was feeling your pulse.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

L smiled softly, “Don’t want me dead anymore?”

“Sometimes. Certainly not like this, it’s too personal.”

“What, killing me while my cock is in your ass is too close for comfort?”

“Something like.” Light smirked and pressed a soft kiss against L’s lips.

After cleaning up, Light told L he wanted to burn the dream journal to prevent further embarrassment.

“Over my dead body.” L said, holding the notebook just out of reach.

Light smirked, “I have no problem arranging that.”

#my writing #lawlight #light yagami #l lawliet #death note #prompt fills #asks #bored-bitch-stuff #more writing to come! #also I apologize that this is so long and it took so long to write ;-; #but either way!! #enjoy!!

[smaidjor]

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 2)

This chapter took me so fucking long but after much struggle I have completed it!

It was supposed to be 3-4k words. It was exactly 6069 pre-editing according to google docs.

You're welcome.

Chapter Title: with your blessing i will go

Chapter Wordcount: 6073

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, discussion of death, non-graphic injury.

AO3

Chapter 1

i know they're losing (companion fic)

Actual fic under the cut:

The next few weeks are miserable, and if Scott tried to claim anything else, he would absolutely be lying to himself. Not that he doesn’t already do that, but he’s not too proud to admit that not seeing Jimmy is torturous. He knows he can’t, he’s firmly placed Jimmy on the off-limits list, but that doesn’t make the self-imposed rule any easier to follow. There’s still a part of him that wants to go running back to Jimmy’s arms, to beg for forgiveness and pray that Jimmy’s warmth is enough to curb the chill in his bones.

Scott shoves that part of him down firmly. He has no time to hesitate or regret, and he will not spend his days pining and sighing over a human. (Or so he tells himself.) He will be the perfect model of an elven king if that’s what it takes to gain his people’s respect, and he will make his parents proud, not that they’re around to see it. He will . Because Scott may not care about what the Council of Elders thinks of him- he hasn’t for twenty years now- but he does care that the people of Rivendell get a leader who cares for their wellbeing. It’s the least he can do, really.

So he takes on the meetings and the paperwork and the aching, gaping hole in his chest with grim determination, ignoring the way his hands always seem to shake a little and he can never quite get warm. It’s fine. Scott is fine. He’s not going to think about golden smiles or warm brown eyes or the look on Jimmy’s face when Scott told him it was over. He’s fine .

Flipping through the stack of official mail he’s received, Scott’s startled when his hand falls on an elegant cream envelope stamped with the crest of the Ocean Empire. How long has this been here? He hurries to get it open, nearly slicing himself on the letter opener in the process.

Out slides an official invitation in neat cursive.

To High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor, Lord King of the Rivendell Empire,

You are cordially invited to a royal ball to be held at the palace of Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs, at 8 pm on the fifth of August.

Formal attire is required.

RSVP as soon as possible.

At the bottom of it, there’s a note in slightly more rushed handwriting.

Smajor- elvenking or not, I will not appreciate it if you mess with Jimmy in any way, shape or form. This ball is to be a peaceful affair, and I will not hesitate to intervene should anything occur.

Lizzie

Scott winces. He...can’t say he doesn’t deserve the warning, any more than he can say that it doesn’t hurt to be warned away from his own husband. Ex-husband, he quickly reminds himself, reaching for stationary to pen a response.

Dear Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs,

He stops, giving it a bit of thought. Would avoiding Jimmy be worth the political consequences of refusing an invitation like this? No, he concedes reluctantly, it wouldn’t. He can always just avoid Jimmy at the ball- Lizzie would probably be happy for it, honestly. She’s been protective over him from the start. Scott puts the pen back to paper.

Luckily, I will be able to attend the ball. It sounds like a wonderful event and I eagerly anticipate it. As for your note, I will avoid antagonizing Jimmy as much as possible. I would hate to sacrifice diplomatic relations between our kingdoms for a petty squabble. Will that be satisfactory?

Sincerely,

High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor

What’s going on between him and Jimmy is far more than a petty squabble, but Lizzie doesn’t need to know that. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s going to run into Jimmy anyways, right?

The day of the ball arrives, and Scott spends far too long choosing an outfit. He’s not vain, not usually, but...Jimmy will be there. You’re not supposed to want to impress him , Scott scolds himself, but that doesn’t stop him from wearing his nicest golden jewelry. The rest of his outfit is far more strategically planned- long skirts to hide how terrible his balance is when he’s near-constantly struggling to get a full breath into his lungs, gloves to keep his dance partners from questioning his cold hands.

The ball is already in full swing by the time he arrives, the trip from Rivendell taking longer than he thought it would. He’s still greeted by the Ocean Queen herself, though, gliding over in her stunning ballgown of blue and green.

“Welcome!” Her smile is bright, warm in a way he almost envies.

Scott dips his head just enough to be respectful but not so much as to truly defer to her. He thinks that’s right, anyways; he hasn’t had to think about that particular part of etiquette lessons in some twenty years. “Thank you, Queen Lizzie. I apologize for my lateness, the trip was a bit harrowing.”

“No problem at all, I just hope you enjoy the ball!” Lizzie’s smile gains a sharper edge. “I appreciated your letter, by the way. Thank you for your promise to keep it civil, King Smajor. Now we just all have to follow through on our words!” She accompanies that bit with a little laugh, but Scott’s not a fool enough to take it as anything but a warning. She doesn’t want trouble at her ball, and who would, really?

“Hopefully we can manage at least that,” he offers wryly, earning another laugh and a bright “Hopefully!”

Scott doesn’t mean to cause trouble at the ball, he really doesn’t. But before he has a chance to even get a look around, Jimmy’s standing in front of him. And oh, this really isn’t how he hoped it’d go.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets, swallowing the lump in his throat. Jimmy cleans up nicely- really nicely- but Scott’s eyes keep going to the scar on his throat, the permanent reminder of how fragile and mortal Jimmy really is.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy says. The formality sounds awkward in his bright voice, and Scott wants to kiss the uncertainty right off his face. “Care for a dance?”

He can’t- he should, Scott knows. There would be value to an alliance with Jimmy, and he has no good reason to turn him down. That’s not why he says yes, though. It’s that look in Jimmy’s eyes, the hope poorly disguised by indifference. He’s so optimistic. Scott shouldn't encourage it, but he can’t find it in himself to break that fragile hope just yet.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind,” Scott says finally. He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one; Vilya rests on Jimmy’s finger, still, and it’s a battle to keep the memories of giving Jimmy that ring at bay. He wins that battle, though, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and Scott knows it. He steps on Scott’s feet, he gets off-rhythm- he’s frankly not made for dancing, much as the way he hums along to the tune is adorable. His hair, which was probably once nicely styled, has already fallen out of place, and his tunic is a little wrinkled. His hands are rough, tough from all the work he does with them, and his face has a tiny bit of mud on it that he must have missed when getting ready. He looks very much like a sweet little swamp boy, out of place in the midst of all the more elegant and powerful rulers.

He’s the most beautiful thing Scott’s ever seen.

Unlike the last time they danced, back in 3rd life where Jimmy leaned on Scott for balance as he tried to learn the complicated steps, this time it’s Scott clinging to Jimmy for stability. He feels bad about how harsh his grip gets, but he can’t afford to show weakness. He has to stay on his feet.

Scott’s silently thankful when the dance ends and he can lead them off the dance floor. He’s exhausted and shaky, and he’s not sure how much longer he can be around Jimmy without breaking down or doing something very stupid.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He takes a step back, banishing the lingering emotion of their dance.

A beat of silence, and then.

“Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?” Jimmy demands, earning a ripple of gasps from nearby guests.

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back, anger rising to fill the gap in his chest.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

Scott swallows down the lump in his throat. “Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I can still be in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says. He sounds so bitter, so tired. “I know , trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

Jimmy cuts him off, a rare occurrence. “Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf! You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

His chest tightens, and he can barely force the words out. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

It’s Scott’s turn to cut him off. “I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me.” It hurts, but it’s true. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.” Jimmy’s so wonderful, there are bound to be others who see it.

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy says. It’s almost childish, but his next words still break Scott’s heart. “I want you. ”

“You can’t have me.” Scott is vividly aware of the fact that there are eyes on him, that their little spat has attracted the attention of the rest of the ballroom.

“But why? Why, Scott?” Jimmy’s voice breaks, and the crack in it is damn near enough to make Scott lose his tiny bit of remaining self-control. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.” It sounds like an accusation, and maybe it is. Scott did promise him that, after all, and then he went back on it.

It wasn’t for no reason, though. He needs Jimmy to understand that it was for a reason. “I can’t give you that!” He snaps back, and his hands tremble when they try to form fists by his side. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.” It’s bitter, but it’s true. Scott can’t be enough for anyone, in the end.

“Enough for me? For ME?”Jimmy’s voice rises in outrage. “All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existence once in a while!”

Scott’s voice rises in response. “And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?”

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

Scott falls silent, breathing hard as the ballroom goes quiet around them. He spots Lizzie sweeping through the crowd, coming to a stop next to Jimmy.

“Is everything alright, boys?” She’s smiling, but it’s strained, and her eyes promise death if this quarrel was Scott’s fault.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” he says, and he tries to gather his composure as he dips his head to her. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.” He doesn’t look at Jimmy.

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and he only nearly stumbles when he turns to leave.

Distantly, he can hear Jimmy shout after him. “Coward!” The word is harsh, but there’s hurt beneath it. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott stumbles away all the quicker.

He keeps composed all the way out the doors and most of the way down the stairs until he’s sure no one can see him from the ballroom. It’s only then that he breaks into a run, lifting up his stupid skirts so he doesn’t fall. One shoe falls off, a twisted parody of a children’s fairy tale, and he doesn’t bother to retrieve it. The prismarine stabs at his exposed foot, but Scott doesn’t have the energy to care. Instead, he beats his wings, trying to get enough momentum for a good takeoff.

For a few precious moments, he gets off the ground, and then he remembers Jimmy’s face as he left, wingbeats stuttering with the sudden emotion, and tumbles back to the rough prismarine path. It hurts , it does, but it’s nothing on the pain in his chest. Nothing on the words still echoing in his head. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!

Scott lays there for a moment, half-wondering if anyone’s coming after him. It’s unlikely, he knows, given how badly he messed things up. He tells himself that that’s a good thing, that he doesn’t want anyone to come looking. He doesn’t need them. He should be strong.

Before anyone has time to notice or be concerned, he’s forced himself back to his feet, starting the takeoff sequence all over again.

This time, he gets in the air with little difficulty, though he lists to the side as he favors his right wing, which took the brunt of the fall. It’s fine. He’s fine, he doesn’t need help.

If Scott believed in the elven gods anymore, he would thank them for the fact that he gets back to Rivendell at all. There are tears blurring his vision, and every part of his body aches, his chest most of all. His flight is shaky at best, outright dangerous at worst, crashing into trees and rocks and the ground multiple times. Each time, he barely picks himself back up before mobs arrive. Sometimes, he questions if he should at all. He’s as good as dead anyways. And yet, the tiny stubborn part of him that got him through 3rd life won’t let him just lay down and die. For some reason, even though he’s slept enough recently (he thinks, anyways), there are phantoms on him. They sense when their prey is sleep-deprived, Scott knows, and wonders if he’s just weak enough to seem that way to them.

By the time he crash-lands on the mountainside, it’s pushing two in the morning, and Scott is more dead than alive. Not that he hasn’t been for a while now, he thinks, and laughs aloud to himself, bitter.

The night watch give him strange looks, but both elves on guard duty obligingly dip their heads when he stumbles by. He barely musters the energy to nod back.

Finally he makes it back to his house, slamming his door behind him and burying his face in his hands. This is the right thing to do, why does it hurt so much? He already lost Jimmy once, why does it feel like he’s losing him all over again when he never really got him back in the first place?

Someone coughs lightly, breaking through his thoughts. The voice is familiar when they speak- one of his advisors. “Lord Smajor? Any major events we should know of at the ball?”

Cold. Calm. Scott knows this is the way of the elves- their royalty cannot dare be human. “The Codfather’s our enemy and the Ocean Queen probably hates us too.” He doesn’t bother trying to make himself sound calm and collected, pushing off the wall and stalking towards the stairs.

“What?” The advisor’s voice pitches up in shock. “What did you do?”

“None of your business.”

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

“It wasn’t like I was fucking trying to,” He snaps.

A gasp. “Language.”

“Fuck off.”

They hurry after him, making to follow him up the stairs. “Lord Smajor-”

Scott turns to face them, taking in the shock and rage painted across their ancient face. “Leave me be.”

“Do not disrespect your elders,” the advisor scolds. “I remember when you were a child, you always were reckless, but this is a new level of disrespect! Why, Xornoth would never-”

“ Enough ,” he hisses. “Do not talk about my sibling.”

They freeze, a bit of genuine fear creeping onto their face. “My lord-”

“Get out of my house,” Scott snarls.

They wisely obey. Scott slumps against the banister as the surge of adrenaline abates, suddenly exhausted. He’s freezing, he realizes, a bone-deep chill that he doesn’t bother to pretend is from his trip home. Scott’s done lying to himself- he’s in pain, and he’s in love, but then again, those equate to roughly the same thing when all’s said and done. You can’t have heartbreak without love or love without heartbreak. (But oh how he wishes he could.)

Scott doesn’t get out of bed the next day, and no one dares try to force him. Varying members of Rivendell’s Council of Elders make a decent shot at trying to convince him, but all it takes is him fixing them with his dead-eyed stare to make them leave. The people of Rivendell are used to their ruler’s odd sleep schedule by now, brushing it off easily, and the empire itself is mostly functional without him. So instead of getting up and dealing with the corruption or making sure Rivendell’s stores are prepared for winter or any of the things he should be doing, Scott lays there in his own misery and thinks about Jimmy screaming that he’s a coward.

He’s right, that’s the worst part. Scott is a coward. He’s scared of Xornoth and the corruption and never, ever being enough, he’s scared of responsibility and his own mind, he’s scared of fading and dying alone, and- most of all- he’s absolutely terrified of how much he loves Jimmy.

His father warned him about fading, once, back before Scott was expected to carry a crown on his brow and the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He bounced Scott on his knee and told him that elven hearts are fragile, too fragile for how strongly they love. “Don’t fall too deep in love, son,” he said, and the words carried the weight of years of grief. “Don’t care too much about any one person, not if you want to live to be a legend of the ages. Doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, love can be lethal.”

Scott didn’t listen, of course- reckless, rebellious Scott, who never once listened to his elders, went and did the most dangerous thing an elf could do. He fell in love with a human.

And now he’s dying. Surely that gives him a pass to wallow in his own misery for a day or two. He’s been brave for so long, can’t he just rest a few moments? Just...just a few. He’ll just lay here a bit longer.

At that moment, the front door creaks open somewhere below him.

“My lord? Can I come up?” Someone calls from below. Their voice is also familiar- Gilnar. Gilnar’s a good captain of the guard. Dutiful, clever, and far more willing to respect him than most of Rivendell’s high ranking elves.

“If you’ve come to convince me to get up, it won’t work,” Scott calls back.

Gilnar’s head peeks over the railing a moment later. “Nope, not here for that. Just thought I’d check in, y’know?” The Sindarin words sound almost musical in their accent, rolling up and down with a unique sort of rhythm.

“Alright.”

“Are you okay, my lord?”

“No.” He’s done lying. “Leave me be.”

Gilnar shakes their head. “Sorry, my lord, can’t do that.”

“If you’re going to tell me my people need me, don’t waste your breath. I know .” Scott’s voice cracks on the last word, just a little.

“Not that either. But with all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.” They lean against the railing.

“What do you mean by that?”

They cough, a little awkwardly. “The soul-sickness. The fading.”

Scott’s mouth opens and closes, and he sputters. “How-”

“Trainin’ with the royal guard a few weeks back, your hands were freezin’ and your balance was off. You haven’t gotten up at a reasonable hour in weeks, and, well, with all due respect- I know what heartbreak looks like.”

He’s silent for a moment, utterly floored. “What do you mean by giving up?”

“Well, Lauriel and I were talkin’, and….your love’s still alive, isn’t he? The Codfather?”

“How did you-”

Gilnar flashes him a tiny grin. “He’s not subtle, and neither are you. Plus, he has Vilya.”

Deciding to shove that to the back of his mind for now, Scott sighs. “He’s a mortal, Gilnar. I’m not giving up anything that I won’t already lose in sixty years or so.”

“Luthien loved Beren, didn’t she?”

“I am not Luthien. I cannot sing so well that the gods grant me pardon.”

“And Idril loved Tuor.”

“I am not Idril. I cannot bring Jimmy to the Undying Lands.”

“Arwen still loved Aragorn.”

“I am not Arwen. I do not have the choice to give up my immortal life.”

Gilnar’s smile turns sad. “Caranthir still loved Haleth. And Celebrimbor loved Narvi just the same, didn’t he? The doomed love all the more fiercely, my lord.”

“The rest of the elves won’t be happy with me,” Scott points out.

“You think Thingol and Turgon and Elrond were happy when their daughters loved mortals? You think Luthien’s people didn’t scorn Beren at first?”

Scott doesn’t have any retort to that, and Gilnar hops up from their seat on the banister. “Well, I need to get back to my duties, my lord. Good luck with your swamp boy!”

They’re gone as soon as they arrive, and Scott stares up at the ceiling, his thoughts dragging him along a spiral of emotion.

“Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott is a coward. He’s a liar and a coward. Nothing he does will ever be right.

“Don’t fall too deep in love, son.”

Scott did, though. Like the idiot he is, he fell in love with someone the universe didn’t want him to have.

“Caranthir still loved Haleth.”

He did. And he paid for it. Does it matter? Scott thinks that losing Jimmy might be a price worth paying for the joy of loving him.

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

Scott didn’t mean to, but he still messed up and shouted at Jimmy. He’s a failure. Jimmy could do better. He deserves better.

“I don’t want a mortal. I want you .”

Jimmy’s so stupid. Stupid Codfather with his stupid bright eyes and stupid, stupid insistence on not giving up on someone he should never have loved to begin with. Scott loves him so much more than he could ever put into words.

“With all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.”

Jimmy deserves an apology. Scott won’t give up.

(Not on Jimmy, anyways.)

It takes him nearly a month of furious work to make the precious mithril bracelet, refining it over and over again. He picks the flowers and their meanings carefully- love, hope, protection- and the crystals too. Amethysts for protection, carefully traded for filled with any bit of magic he can spare for them. The lettering carved into the underside is yet another layer of blessings and meaning; he does it in Quenya, the Tengwar script, which Scott knows Jimmy can’t read. He has to look up how to write in it after so many years of never so much as looking at elven script, pouring over old books by candlelight. By day, he rules an empire, relying on the rush of adrenaline and motivation to carry him through even on the days when he’s swaying on his feet by the end. By night, he works on a courtship project like none he’s made before until at last, at nearly three in the morning one night, it’s finished.

It’s not the most beautiful it could have been. Scott isn’t one of the great Noldor smiths of old, he’s just an elf in love. His hands are perpetually shaky nowadays, and he has limited time to work on it between every other responsibility in his life. But every centimeter of it is handmade with all the care he could muster, and that has to count for something.

Scott hardly wants to wait to give it to Jimmy, but he forces himself to try and wait for morning. His anxiety doesn’t let him sleep much, exhausted as he is, but he curls up under the covers and stares at the bracelet on his nightstand. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off it, half-convinced it will vanish if he does. Eventually, his eyes slide shut of their own will, carrying him into an uneasy sleep.

He wakes up long after the sun's risen, staggering out of bed and throwing on a cloak for the journey to Jimmy’s. The cold that he’s been banishing with the warmth of a forge has returned tenfold, and he’s shivering despite elves normally being resistant to chills. When he takes a glance at himself in the mirror, he finds that his hair is out of place, there’s a streak of ink across his cheek, and the dark circles under his eyes look like bruises. He looks a mess, and he doesn’t care. Jimmy is all that matters now.

The journey’s both long and rough, and his landing in the swamp is more like a frantic swan dive out of the sky. Luckily, though, the ground is soft here, and Scott’s able to pick himself up and hurry for Jimmy’s house, ignoring the stares of a few Codland citizens. He knocks, heart in his throat as he waits for the door to open.

The hinges squeak, and suddenly Jimmy’s standing there, a mix of emotions that Scott doesn’t even want to try and comprehend scattered across his face. He looks a little sleepy despite the fact that it must be near noon, and so very sweet with his hair falling in his face. The sight of him knocks the air right out of Scott’s lungs, and he has to struggle to remember why he’s here again for a long moment as they stare at each other.

“Hi,” Scott says weakly.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy sounds outraged, and Scott can’t blame him.

Scott swallows hard. “I came to apologize.” His tired brain scrambles for words, something, anything to convey how truly sorry he is. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps.

“I know.” God, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much to hear the rage in Jimmy’s voice. “I- uh- fuck.” Scott fumbles to get the box he put the bracelet in, holding it out. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy’s silent for a long moment, examining the bracelet. Scott barely dares breathe as he turns it over and over in his hands, tracing the flower designs with his fingertips. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.” And, well, isn’t that just the story of his life?

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says. He sounds genuine.

Scott lets out a breath, letting some of the tension go. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts, and then pauses. What does he say? An apology would be a start, maybe. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.” It’s the truth, as wholly as he can bear to give it.

“Is it that- that dire?” Jimmy’s voice shakes a little, and Scott gives a tiny nod.

“This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

Jimmy goes quiet again. His eyes are still on the bracelet, and Scott can hardly breathe again.

Finally, he can’t take the tension. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am still yours-” he’s always been, really- “if you’ll have me.”

The silence that falls after that is even more stifling than the previous two. Scott doesn’t expect Jimmy to want him back- far from it. He’s putting his heart in Jimmy’s hands, but he doesn’t expect anything other than it shattering on the floor. Maybe Jimmy will be kind enough to let him down gently, but Scott’s fragile enough that it would only take a tiny nudge to break him. And yet he can’t stop the tiny bit of hope that blooms, though it dwindles minute by minute as Jimmy stares and stares. Finally, he opens his mouth to make his apologies again and leave to his frozen, icy empire-

And then there are hands in his hair and lips on his, warm and sudden and bold. Scott gives a little startled gasp, which is swallowed up by Jimmy’s kiss. Their noses knock together and Jimmy’s teeth click against his just a little in their haste, but Scott’s far too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of warmth to care.

When Jimmy finally pulls away, Scott’s left breathless, cheeks warm in a way no part of him has been since Jimmy died in 3rd life.

He barely pulls himself together enough to manage a wry little “So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?”

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

Jimmy sounds so startled and offended at the idea that he wouldn’t , Scott’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again in response, and who’s Scott to protest? No, he’s more than happy to let Jimmy pull him close and kiss away the lingering sorrow. When Jimmy pulls away this time, he’s left dizzy, half caught up in the euphoria of being loved, half terrified that this is only a cruel dream.

By the time Scott collects himself again, Jimmy’s holding out the bracelet to him. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott can only nod, fumbling with the clasp a little. It’s not complicated, but his hands aren’t steady, and it takes him a moment to get it. Jimmy grabs his hands when he lets go, and he’s so warm that Scott can’t muster the energy to even question why.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he can’t bear to let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk a lot, Jimmy more than Scott. Scott learns that Jimmy’s been picked on by other rulers (no surprise, but his blood still boils at the thought), and he shares minimal details about what he’s been up to. Jimmy doesn’t need to hear about Scott’s issues, he’s already dealing with enough.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says, though he has to force himself to. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please.” Jimmy sounds almost afraid, which instantly sets off alarm bells.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep,” Scott tells him, very patiently.

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

Now the alarm bells are really going off in Scott’s head. He knows when his husband is hiding something serious, and Jimmy’s frantic tone isn’t helping his worry. “No, no. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jimmy claims.

Scott frowns at him lightly. “ Jimmy .”

That’s all it takes. “I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts. He’s blushing a little. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

Oh, Jimmy . Scott holds up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me. It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!” Jimmy’s voice pitches up with distress, and Scott’s heart aches for him.

“Alright,” he says, as gently as he can manage. “How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.” More like, Aeor can protect them. Scott’s useless, even with Vilya.

Jimmy nods and takes Scott’s hand with a tiny little “Thank you.”

“Always,” Scott murmurs. It comes out softer than he means it to, though it’s the truth. He’ll always do whatever he can to protect Jimmy, which is why he asks “Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just… give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Vilya is one of the most important parts of his heritage, actually, and his advisors would pitch a fit if they knew he had given it to a mortal. For once, he can’t bring himself to care what his advisors would think, though. Jimmy is important, more important than any piece of jewelry.

Jimmy follows Scott to Rivendell, and Scott can’t resist a proud smile when Jimmy praises the buildings. He takes Jimmy inside, lets him curl up under the warm covers, his head tucked against Scott’s chest, and it’s only once Jimmy’s asleep that Scott lets himself break. He’s so tired , so utterly exhausted from being brave for so long. Even now that his husband is curled up next to him, warm and solid and real, he can hardly believe that Jimmy actually wanted him back- wanted him at all, really. Scott doesn’t want to move for fear of waking up Jimmy, but luckily for him, he’s good at crying silently. That’s what he does, tears slipping down his face to wet the pillow below. Only the faintest whimper escapes his lips, a tiny broken noise that he’s embarrassed of even in this emotional state. And when another slips out, he buries his face in Jimmy’s hair and forces himself back into silence. He’s not going to cry over the best thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t , but he’s just so tired of being alone that being with someone else is almost painful in contrast; he’s so cold that the slightest touch of warmth feels burning.

Jimmy shifts in his sleep, mumbling something that sounds vaguely affectionate and pulling Scott closer, and Scott nearly chokes from the effort of restraining a sob. Gods, Jimmy . He could die like this, tucked in his husband’s arms, and he doesn’t think he’d regret it.

“I love you,” he whispers into the night. It comes out choked. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry, Jimmy, I’m so sorry.”

Jimmy mumbles something that sounds a lot like “I love you too”, and that’s what really breaks Scott. It’s a miracle Jimmy doesn’t wake up, really, with Scott’s quiet sobs shaking the mattress. He cries until he’s all out of tears, as silently as he can manage, and only then does he slip into a sound sleep.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #empires smp #my writing

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Monstrous Secrets Chapter 3

Eris Vanserra x reader

Word Count: 1250

Summary: Mor.

After returning--you hesitated to call it this but--home to the Hewn City, your main contact with Eris, your mate, were letters that appeared on your bedside table right beside the ones from Rhys. Part of you wondered how the both of them would react to learning they shared this little similarity.

Mostly, the pair of you discussed the goings on of daily life in your respective courts; though, nothing either of you shared was anything that would be considered a weakness in your courts. Occasionally, very occasionally, there were deeper, more meaningful discussions. Quippy banter, to the contrary, became fairly common much to your surprise. Then one day you received a note--for it wasn’t near long enough to be considered a letter--the likes of which you’d never expected. It was just one line, no explanation, no signoff, just three words.

“Please forgive me.”

Before you could pen a reply, Cassian burst into the room. “You need to come quickly. It’s Mor.”

You hadn’t laid eyes on your friend in weeks. Really since that ball where you learned that your fate was tied to Eris’s You could barely stand to look at her in all honesty. Partially because you were assigned across the house from her usual haunts (something you were suspicious of due to the suddenness of the shift since you couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a reason Rhys did it) and partially because you felt so damned guilty about the fact that you were chest-deep in the process of falling for her unwanted fiancé. Guilt that, over the next few hours, would claw its way deeper and deeper into the pit of your stomach as you learned the true horror of what happened to Mor at the border of Autumn.

Her sleeping with Cassian however long ago to ruin her virginity was an act of desperation that was unexpected but not all that surprising.

Her father trying to force the marriage anyway, not at all shocking.

But the story, however vague, of what they did to her when Eris said in no uncertain terms that he would not be going through with the engagement. Then the fact that he’d just left her there, potentially to die of her various injuries. Especially in light of the knowledge that he’d been so close to getting her out of the whole arrangement. At minimum, it made you want to go back and tell her that you had a way out, that she didn’t have to go through such desperate measures. At worst, you wondered if Eris was really the man you’d come to know him as or if he was really how Rhysand and the others claimed.

You had to speak to him. Speak, not write. So you penned your own note as soon as you were able.

“Meet me where you left her or I’ll never speak to you again.”

You told no one you were leaving, let alone where you were headed. This was a mess for you to sort out, not them. Still, no matter how this panned out, you’d never be able to tell anyone who your mate was; that was certain. Gone was whatever hope you had that you’d all be able to sit around a table at Solstice. Gone was the dream that you might one day have your own wedding with your family smiling happily for you. Now with this looming over Eris’s past.

Sure enough, the second your feet touched the ground, he was stepping out of the shadows.

“Why?” you demanded, tears welling up in your eyes.

His shoulders were slumped, hands in his pockets. A far cry from his usual, cocky self. “Because if I’d touched her, everything would have been over. For us and for her.”

“What the ever-loving fuck does that mean?! Is it so far beneath you to offer her help? Cauldron’s sake, Eris, what if it’d been me?! Would you have turned me away as well??”

His voice was uncharacteristically icy when he muttered, “If it was you, there is no force in Prythian that would have kept me from your side.” A deep breath hissed past his teeth. Scalding hot rage danced in those golden eyes. “If I’d so much as touched her, it would have been as good as accepting her as my wife. I don’t expect you to understand how Court poli--”

“Now is absolutely not the fucking time to talk to me like I’m lesser, Vanserra,” you snapped.

His jaw visibly clenched before he spoke again. “If I helped her, I would have no choice but to marry her. Because she acted so rashly, there was no clean way to break off the engagement. She would have been bound to me, trapped in a court surrounded by ravenous hounds, and I to her, doomed to know I would never be able to wed you. 

“I won’t make excuses to say it was acceptable. Not to you. But you know how my father can be. Cauldron knows the only one in my family not like him is Lucien. Her fucking an Illyrian bastard--” There was a weight to those words that made your insides squirm. Too many times you’d seen his normally-neat handwriting turn jagged or blood spot the page after Beron ‘punished’ his eldest son, but you couldn’t let that insult slide.

“I’m an Illyrian bastard, Eris. Does that make it acceptable to make you suffer for talking to me?!”

 “I am not saying it makes it acceptable!” he snapped. “She’s alive and free because of my actions, so I cannot regret the end result. I can only regret how she got there. I will live the rest of my life with that regret, but at least I know she will get to live hers.”

“They will never forgive you.” There was so much else in your tone than just those words. All the hopes and dreams for the future that the pair of you had developed in your letters were dashed forever.

“As they shouldn’t.”

Those tears finally spilled over as you asked the question that’d plagued you since discovering he was your mate. It felt like asking it just added fuel to the fire that was trying to separate you at every turn, a fire named Beron Vanserra.  “We’ll never be able to tell anyone about us, will we?”

In the span of a second, he was across the space between you and was pulling you into his arms. One hand cradled your head to his chest, the other pressed against the small of your back. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Your hands clenched against his shirt. “They’ll kill you if they so much as smell you.”

“I wouldn’t blame them.”

You looked up at his face. “Eris . . .” was all you managed to utter before grasping at the nape of his neck to pull him down for a desperate kiss.

It was him that pulled away after a few moments. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against your forehead after placing a tender kiss there.

You wanted to assure him that it was alright, but it truly wasn’t. “I know.”

“What she okay? When you left?”

“Unconscious again, but healing. Azriel and Cassian are playing guard dog for her.”

“Good.” There was a pause. “I--” The words seemed to get caught in his throat. “I am proud to have you as my mate, Illyrian bastard or not.”

Your hand slid up to cup his cheek. “We’ll get through this, Eris. One way or another.”

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra imagine #eris x reader #eris imagine #reader insert #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses imagine

[starshine-hockey-girl]

The missing note- Magical Mystery Ride Chapter Fifteen

Author’s Note- This is a Teddy/Tyler chapter. 

Warnings- language and angst; 

Previous Chapter- Trouble in Paradise-

https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/658710228764901376/trouble-in-paradise-magical-mystery-ride-chapter

                                        Wednesday May 9th

Teddy gathered her things and did a quick check of the villa for any remaining items. Bree watched silently from a cracked bedroom door. Teddy placed Katie's birthday gift on the kitchen island where it couldn't be missed. Next to it, placed an envelope with Tyler's name written in neat handwriting. She put on her sunglasses and walked out the door. The black suburban waited as she emerged from the Villa. The driver grabbed Teddy's bag and placed it in the rear of the SUV as Teddy slid into the backseat. They rode silently as Teddy checked her phone once again, still no contact from Lex. She furrowed her brow and put the phone away. The suburban pulled onto the airstrip and Teddy got out of the car and walked up the stairs into the awaiting jet. After she got settled in her seat, the steward approached, “Ms. Baxter, the pilot needs to complete the flight plan. What will be our final destination today?” Teddy checked her phone again- no text from either Lex or Tyler. “Pittsburgh,” she sighed, “I need to do something in Pittsburgh.” 

Back at the villa, Bree came out of her bedroom  and surveyed the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at the beautifully wrapped gift Teddy had left on the counter. “Of course,” Bree thought, “She is just so perfect.” Bree’s eyes scanned the counter and saw the envelope to Tyler. She grabbed it and held it in her hands and looked around the room. “That fucking bitch,” Bree thought to herself, “She cannot stay away from him.” She took the envelope and returned to her bedroom. She tore the envelope open and read the note.

           Dear Tyler- I am sorry for leaving without saying goodbye to you. I knew that you would only try to stop me. I need to go and finally end things with Lex for good. Thank you for your support the past six months as I stupidly longed and pined for Lex. I allowed myself to be blinded to the amazing man who has been by my side though thick and thin. I don’t know why I didn’t see it until tonight. Maybe it is my imagination, but it felt like something changed between us on the jet when you held my hand. Did you feel it too? Then I felt it again last night while we danced. If there is a chance that you feel the same way, know that I am only a phone call/text away. If you don’t feel that way about me, I can accept that. We’ll still be friends and I will see you when you return for the season. Either way, know that I care about you. I want only good things for you,Tyler,because that is what you deserve. Love-Teddy

Bree tore up the note and flushed the bits down the toilet. “Good luck with that you stupid bitch,” she taunted as watched it go down the drain. She finished her make-up and went into the kitchen to wait for Tyler. The rest of the group was slowly rising for the day. The sun and alcohol along with the Bree/Teddy drama had left them exhausted. Andrea and Bish come of their rooms first, got their coffees and took them outside to drink.

Tyler walked out of the smallest bedroom drying his hair with a towel, shorts slung low on his hips. He nodded at Bree before knocking on Teddy's bedroom, "Teddy? It's me." A few moments passed and Tyler knocked again, "Teddy? Are you okay? I'm coming in." He entered the room to find the bed made and no trace of Teddy in the room. His eyes scanned the room in confusion. He went out into the living room, game room, through the kitchen and onto the balcony. Andrea and Bish were laying on a lounger, enjoying the sunshine. "Hey, have you seen Teddy? I can't find her," Tyler called with a tinge of panic in his voice.

 "No, but we slept in this morning," Bish called back. Tyler went back and retraced his steps through the house. Bree watched him silently, the anger rising in her. 

Tyler passed by again without acknowledging her and knocked on Katie and Benn's door. "Hey, Is Teddy in there?" 

Benn called back, "yeah, she agreed to my fantasy threesome last night." 

Tyler's eyes flashed with anger and Katie slapped Benn's head before answering the door. "You can't find her? She did say something about leaving last night," Katie answered. 

"What do you mean- leave?" Tyler questioned.

Bree spoke in a sing song voice, "Are you looking for Teddy? She left an hour ago. She had her bags with her." 

Tyler spun around, "You saw her leave? Did she say anything?" 

Bree inwardly squealed in her newfound power. "She said that she was leaving, and she needed some space. She said she would reach out when she is ready to talk to you," she lied. 

Tyler's face twisted, "She left? She didn't even say goodbye. That's not like her." 

Bree shrugged, "I mean, what do expect Tyler? She moped over Big Rig for two days and he ghosted her. She practically dry humped you last night and you rejected her. Then there was the whole fight with me. She is probably embarrassed. I would give her space." 

Tyler tried to remember the exact details of dancing with Teddy the night before. He didn't remember explicitly rejecting her, but it was fuzzy. Had he embarrassed her? Tyler turned to Katie, "Do you think that's it? Should I give her space?" 

Katie paused for a moment, "I think she is obviously going through something if she left without saying goodbye to anyone. She will reach out when she is ready." 

Tyler rubbed his hands through his curls, "Okay, if you think so."

Tyler walked Bree to the car and waited as the driver loaded her bags into the car. "So do you have boarding pass on your phone?" Tyler asked. 

Bree looked up from her phone, "Uhhhh, yeah. I got it." 

They stood silently for a moment before Tyler asked, "Did you ever care about me? Even a little?" 

Tyler retorted, "So that’s a no? Fair enough since I really didn’t care about you either. We’re done though. Have a safe trip. Paul will send you everything from the house. I don't think there is much there though." 

Bree tilted her head, "Tyler, you know it was just a casual thing for both of us. You got what you wanted from me and I got what I wanted from you. If it’s over, no hard feelings." 

Bree shrugged her shoulders and got in the car. She rolled her window down, “Tyler, do you think that Teddy would be interested in you? I mean, come on- you’re the ultimate fuck boi. You should stick to what you know best and forget her.” Tyler winced at her words and walked back into the villa.

Teddy’s jet landed in Pittsburgh six hours later. The crew of the jet started the refueling process as Teddy spoke with the captain briefly. “Yes, the plane will be ready to leave when you return,” he confirmed. She got into the waiting car and gave the address to Lex’s apartment. During the ride, Teddy texted her father to give him the update. She looked around nervously when she exited the car. She bent down and told the driver to wait for her. Teddy composed herself and walked the hall to Lex’s apartment. She heard the sound of the TV as she knocked on the door. 

“Just a minute,” she heard him call as he walked to the door. He swung open the door with beer in his head. He was dressed casually in sweatpants and an old tournament jersey. His eyes were blood shot and his curls were unruly. “What the….” he mumbled and dropped the beer to the floor as he saw Teddy standing in front of him. 

“Hi Lex”, she stated quietly, “Can I come in?” He stepped aside and she walked past him, careful to step over the beer pouring out onto the tile floor. He scrambled to grab a hand towel to clean up the beer as Teddy walked around the living room slowly and quietly. Teddy crossed her arms and waited by the couch as Lex finished cleaning the mess. 

“What are you doing here Bliss?" Lex asked as he put the damp towel in the hamper.

“Good question Lex, but I am not sure what I am doing here either,” Teddy spit out. Lex retreated back into the kitchen, but Teddy followed. “Can I see your phone?” she inquired.

 “Why?” Lex questioned before handing her his phone. She scrolled to their text conversation. “Yep, it’s there. The last text message that you sent me about being a bad ass, the three additional selfies I sent that you didn’t respond to, and then the final text telling you that I needed you and to please call. That was 18 hours ago Lex and no response. Can you explain it to me? Why I am not worthy of a text or a call?” Teddy tried valiantly to keep a brave face, but tears flowed down her face. 

Lex looked down, “Fuck.” 

Teddy parroted back, “Fuck is right.”

They stood in the silence for a few minutes. “Now I am not even worthy of a response when I am standing right here? What the fuck Lex?” she cried. 

“You know that’s not the truth, Bliss. You know that you are worth more to me than that. I just couldn’t do it yesterday. I couldn’t and I am sorry that it hurt you,” Lex pleaded. 

“What happened Lex? What happened yesterday?” Teddy replied. She looked around the room and saw the empty beer bottles and takeout containers. “Are you okay Lex?” she asked. 

He shook his head no and walked over to the couch. “I am trying to be okay, but I am not,” he admitted before sitting down. 

“Did something happen specifically or is it the playoffs? Talk to me Lex,” she urged as she sat down beside him. She noticed of how quickly she had switched her focus from herself to him and made a note to discuss with her therapist.

She nudged his knee and sat back. “Okay, I will just wait right here. Do you want to hear about my shitty day first?” she joked. 

Lex leaned back, “Nah, I will go first. I just had a pity party for myself. I got drunk and had a pity party for myself, then I sobered up and asked for some help. I saw a therapist today.” 

Teddy turned to face him, “You saw a therapist?” 

Lex joked, “Yeah, this really smart woman named Bliss told me all about therapy. Turns out she’s right.” He continued, “Being traded fucked with my mind more than I realized. Now being a restricted free agent, I am feeling anxiety about my future which is new to me. I think the Penguins want to keep me, but what if they don’t? Then I have to start over someplace else. That’s why I didn’t call or text you. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” 

Teddy climbed into Lex’s lap and hugged him tight. “Disappoint me? I don’t think I have been prouder of you than in this moment. Look at you feeling anxiety and getting help. You’re a badass!” 

Lex squirmed underneath Teddy and she resumed her spot next to him. “Your turn,” Lex spoke softly. 

Lex sighed, “I don’t feel like a badass.” Teddy looked into his eyes, “Well then, I will remind you every day until you do. That’s what best friends do.”

Teddy took a breath, “Okay, but I don’t think that you are going to like it, so I apologize in advance if I am adding to your shitty day.”

 Lex raised an eyebrow, “Well now I am curious.”  

Teddy sighed, “I think I may be sort of, kind of in love with Tyler.” 

Lex laughed, “What happened?” 

Teddy turned to look at Lex, “Wait, you aren’t mad or upset?” 

Lex propped his long legs on the coffee table, “Why would I be mad or upset about it? I figured it out a while back. At least that he has feelings for you. Now tell me what happened” 

Teddy started to explain, but questioned, “What you do you mean he has feelings for me?”

 Lex threw his hands into air, “Damn it Bliss, I will tell you later. Tell me what happened!” 

Teddy continued to explain happened on the jet Monday on the way to St. Thomas and the Tuesday night dance. She commented, “I have hugged and being physically close to him before, but I never felt anything like a I felt on Monday. Then Tuesday night I almost kissed him after practically dry humping him while dancing. It just felt perfect for just a few minutes. Like everything I ever wanted was right there in front of me.”

Lex turned to her, “If that’s the case, why are you here? Why aren’t you saying this to Tyler? 

Teddy blinked, “Oh for just about a gazillion reasons.” 

Lex countered, “like you are being a chickenshit and running from the truth? 

Teddy pursed her lips, “Damn, one therapy session and you think you got all the wisdoms. What exactly is the truth Lex? Tyler has given me zero indications that he is into me other when he is drunk.” 

Lex pursued, “Didn’t you mention a hard-on on the plane? He wasn’t drunk then, was he? I also think the fact that he lost his mind and wanted to fight me during the game is another indication. Didn’t you say that he was going to send Bree home today because of your fight? Face it Bliss, the signs are there.” 

Teddy thought for a few moments, “But what if you are wrong?” 

Lex countered, “But if what I am right?” 

Teddy rested her head on Lex’s chest, “You’re right. I am being a chickenshit. I am just scared.” 

Lex kissed the top of her head, “We can be scared together.” 

Teddy whispered, “I did leave him a note though and told him about my feelings in the note. That’s something, right? We’ll see what he does.”

Teddy and Lex sat in silence on the couch. “Oh fuck, I need to text the car and plane. I told them I wasn’t going to stay, but now I kind of want to stay with you tonight. Can I stay?” 

Lex nodded, “Sure as long as you promise me a Wicked free existence.” 

After sending texts, Teddy rested again on Lex. “Hey Lex, this feels different today. Does it feel different to you?” 

He wrapped his arms around her, “Yeah, but not in a bad way. This feels really good, but we have changed since you went and fell in love.” 

She sat up and kissed his cheek, “Still best friends?” 

He smiled, “Best friends forever.”

                                      Summer 2018

Teddi spent the next two weeks with Lex. First packing up his Pittsburgh apartment for the offseason then traveling to his family’s cottage to decompress. Teddy and Penny spent the majority of the time ganging up on him while he pretended to whine. When Lex dropped off her at the airport for her flight back to Dallas, they left with promise both of them continuing therapy and of a return trip by Teddy to Pittsburgh for the beginning on the season.

Teddy and Tyler didn’t contact each other over the summer. Teddy assumed that Tyler didn’t return her feelings and Tyler assumed that she needed her space. You know what happens with assumptions. They kept up each other lives through Instagram likes and comments. Tyler traveled back to Toronto and then finished his summer with BioSteel camp. Teddy quit her corporate job and focused on her social media platforms.

                                   Monday, September 3rd- Labor Day

Tyler pulled up to Bishop’s house for the Second Annual Labor Day bash. He smiled as he parked his car in the same spot as last year and walked into the house. He had failed to notice Teddy’s jeep also parked in her parent’s driveway. The party was going strong when Tyler arrived. The food and drinks were plentiful and there was a bevy of beautiful women vying for his attention. Instead, Tyler found his teammates to laugh and catch up after their summers. 

Teddy was laying out with Katie who had just returned to town with Benn. She lifted her head when she heard the sound of Tyler’s voice. She turned to look at him and stomach flipped. “Damn,” she thought to herself, “Why do I do this to myself? 

Tyler’s felt Teddy’s gaze on him before he turned around. The hair on the back of head stood on end and he felt a tingle down his spine. Teddy had just turned her head when his gaze rested on her physique. “Shit,” he told himself, “She looks good.” He corrected himself as he continued to watch her from a distance, “No, she looks happy.” 

Teddy and Tyler spent the rest of the afternoon playing a subconscious game of Cat and Mouse. When one got too close, the other would make an immediate retreat in the opposite direction. Stephen Johns picked up his phone and facetimed Lex, “Hey buddy, are you seeing what I am seeing here?” Lex watched as Johnsy followed Teddy and Tyler actively trying to avoid each other.

 “Shit,” Lex muttered, “She is still being a chickenshit.”

Teddy and Tyler continued avoiding each and it worked perfectly until they literally ran into each in the hallway, although this time it was Tyler with his head down looking at his phone. The force of the collision caused both of them to stumble. One of Tyler’s strong arms wrap around Teddy and guided her back against the wall before using his hands to brace himself against the wall also.

“You know I’ve heard bad things happen when you don’t keep your head up-particularly in hockey, “ Teddy quipped as her face rested inches away from Tyler’s face. Neither of them moved and they stared into each other’s eyes. Tyler’s hand ghosted around her face before resting on the wall again. Again, neither moved until Tyler blinked his eyes and stood up slowly. 

There was a slightest twist to Tyler’s face as he asked, “Were you going to ignore me all day? Like you have ignored me all summer?” 

Teddy stood up straighter, “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was respecting your decision.” 

Tyler had begun to walk away and turned around, “What decision Teddy? I didn’t have a decision. You just walked away-you didn’t even have the decency to say goodbye!” 

Teddy froze a second, “What do you mean I didn’t say goodbye? I did! I left a note for you on the counter. Didn’t you get it?” 

Tyler furrowed his brow and shouted, “There wasn’t a note. There was the gift for Katie, but no note. Go ask Katie. She’ll tell you. You just disappeared without telling anyone!”

Teddy’s mind raced. Even if Tyler hadn’t gotten a note, why wouldn’t he have tried to reach out at all? Did he just not care? She pushed him away and ran down the hall and out to the patio. She grabbed Katie by the arm, “Was there a note in St. Thomas? I left a note for Tyler when I left. It was right by your gift.”

 Katie shook her head, “No, there wasn’t a note.” 

Teddy spun around and she raced into the kitchen. She saw Tyler there pouring himself a drink and then spun around right into the chest of Johnsy. He grabbed her by the arm and took her into the media room. Her phone rang with a Face time call from Lex. She broke down in tears when she saw Lex’s face. 

“Bliss, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked. 

Teddy looked from the phone to Johnsy but he had disappeared from the room  and back to Lex, “He didn’t get the note, Lex. He didn’t get the note and that’s why he never called or texted. He must hate me now.”

Johnsy reappeared with Tyler and Katie. The motley crew stood and stared at each other until Johnsy took charge again. He pointed to Teddy to the nearest chair, “You sit there” and repeated the command for Katie and Tyler. 

Tyler huffed, “Why are we in here Johnsy? Tell me- why we are in here?” Tyler looked around the room but refused to make eye contact with Teddy. 

Johnsy spoke, “We are in here because of this.” He pushed the play button on the large screen. Short videos of Tyler staring at Teddy played followed by short videos of Teddy staring at Tyler played on the big screen. 

Teddy and Tyler’s mouths dropped. “You were taking videos of us? Why?” Teddy questioned. 

Lex’s voice boomed out of the phone, “Because Bliss I love you, but the two of you need to your heads out of your asses.”

Tyler got up and paced, “My head is not up my ass. She left me in St. Thomas with no goodbye and no contact since then."

Teddy shot back, “For the last time, I left a note,but even if I didn’t, why would you not contact me if I left with no goodbye? You weren’t the least bit worried about where I went or how I was? Did you really think that I would just leave without any sort of explanation? Do you really think that I am that heartless?” 

Tyler questioned back, “Did you really think that if I had gotten a note that I wouldn’t have contacted you? Did you really think I didn’t have a reason not to contact you?”

Katie and Johnsy followed the back and forth like a tennis game and Lex just listened, trying to keep up. Katie interjected, “Tyler didn’t contact you because Bree told us that you said you would contact him when you are ready.” 

Teddy turned to Katie, “Bree told you what?”

 Katie continued, “Yeah, she told us that you were upset, that you needed space and that you would contact Tyler when you were ready.” 

Teddy turned to Tyler who turned away, “I never talked to Bree that morning. I swear to God. I never said any of what she said I did. I would never leave without saying goodbye to you. You gotta know that. Tyler, please look at me.”

 Tyler turned his head and looked at Teddy who blinked back tears, “I swear Tyler, I would never leave without saying goodbye. I would never do that to you. That’s why you didn’t contact me this summer? Because she said that?” 

Tyler nodded, “That among other things. If you left this note and didn’t hear from me, why didn’t you contact me? You know that I wouldn’t just go the entire summer and no contact you, right?”

Teddy froze, “I didn’t contact you because I assumed that you read the note, made your choice and followed what I told you in the note.” 

Tyler’s face twisted, “What choice? What choice was in the note Teddy?” 

Teddy looked down on the ground and choked back tears, “I can’t say it. It’s too embarrassing.” 

Lex’s voice boomed from the phone again, “It’s not embarrassing Bliss. You are just scared. You can say it.” 

Teddy whispered, “I can’t. I’m scared.” 

Lex’s voice boomed again, “Bliss, I swear to God. I am not going to let you miss out because you are being a chickenshit. Either you tell him or I will.” 

Teddy spit out, “I really don’t like you right now Lex.”

 Lex responded, “I don’t care. I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t make you do it. Now go!”

The group turned their gaze to Teddy, “The note said that I was sorry for not saying goodbye, but I knew that he would try to stop me from leaving. That I was thankful for his friendship even when I was being an idiot and pining for Lex because I didn’t see the amazing man who has been by my side through it all. That I felt something change on the jet on the way to St. Thomas and when we danced. That if he felt the same, to call or text, but if he didn’t, I would see him for the season and we would still be friends because I care about him and only want good things for him.” 

Tyler’s mouth dropped. He ran his hands through his hands and looked at the floor. 

Lex’s voice boomed out again from the phone, “And what did you tell me in Pittsburgh, Bliss? Tell him that too.” 

Teddy looked at Tyler and gulped, “I told you that I think that I am in love with Tyler. So that’s why I didn’t contact you Tyler. I thought you got the note and didn’t feel the same. Then today I thought I could just go back to being just your friend and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put the feeling back into the bottle.” 

Teddy groaned as she heard Lex’s voice boom again, “Look at you Bliss. Being a badass!”

Katie took Johnsy and left the room. Lex hung up the phone call. Tyler and Teddy sat across from each other in silence. Teddy got up to head toward the door, “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same Tyler. I understand. I’m not the girl who gets Tyler Seguin. I don’t know who she is, but she is damn lucky.”

Tyler looked at her and whispered, “Did you mean it? Did you mean it when said that I am an amazing man? You don’t think that I am some Fuckboi?” 

Teddy came and sat on her knees in front of Tyler, “Yes, I meant it. You don’t have any idea how amazing you are. You are the one who noticed that I was struggling the night of the Haunted House. You are the one who carried me out when I was frozen in fear. You are the one who came to check on me the next day. You are the one who hounded Bishop and came after me when I fought with Lex. You are the one who took care of me after Lex left and humiliated himself to call Crosby because I was freaking out. It has always been you, Tyler. I was just too blind to see it. You are furthest thing from a Fuckboi. Who told you that?”

Tyler lightly grabbed Teddy by shoulders and pulled her up to his lap. “It’ doesn’t matter who told me that now. Can I I kiss you now? because I know that I am in love with you too.” 

“Yes,” Teddy gasped, “Wait, you’re in love with...” 

Tyler put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her softly. He then kissed again a little more firmly. The kisses between Teddy and Tyler grew like their friendship-more passionate with each kiss. Their tongues and lips communicated a year of unspoken feelings of friendship and love. They broke apart and stared at each other before starting the kisses began again. The passion was pure and electric at same time. They stayed in the media room for the next hour, just kissing and enjoying each other’s company. 

Finally, Tyler spoke “Teddy, would you go on a date with me?” 

Teddy giggled, “Ummm yes- when did you want to go on a date with me?” 

Tyler smiled, “Is tomorrow too soon? I need to make up for some lost time.” 

Teddy kissed him again and whispered into his ear, “I like the sound of that.”

Chapter Sixteen- The First Date- https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/659601481399435265/authors-note-teddy-and-tyler-first-date

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars imagine #tyler seguin fic #nhl fic #nhl fiction #nhl imagine #magical mystery ride

[volfoss]

I already forgot everything i put sggq1hzb 😤💌🦐 for fiore and agliata :)

dw i did too but i gotcha by like copy and pasting also sorry i lost coherency like an hour ago <3 but ty chris <3333

under the cut bc idk how long this is gonna get

😤 What is something they could go off about for hours?

Fiore- tennis, if you bring it up, prepare for a very long conversation about how they just dont get the appeal. its very very much the vibes of like a boomer not understanding kids these days but its like a stupid yellow dude being like FUCK TENNIS

Agliata- pretentious movies. if like theyre at home and watching a movie w someone, and they think its stupid, theyll pause and just have a discussion about it. will be VERY annoying about it in the way of they nitpick a ton

💌 What is their handwriting like?

Fiore- VERY loopy, like kind of a really sloppy cursive. he is incapable of doing print, if you make him do print he will make his handwriting more tight cursive. its kinda like a loose cursive tho, like it gets kinda big at times and would probably fill up about two lines of college ruled paper but if it has to be small (ie to like fill out a check or smth idk) its THE MOST cramped cursive ever its a ton of loops intersecting and you cannot read it, they also only write with pens

Agliata- when i say they have a death grip on ANY writing utensil i fully mean it. if they dont, their handwriting is like borderline illegible but if its like white fingertip kinda grip, its relatively neat? like still a bit sloppy but u can actually read it relatively well? its also like super inconsistent where one day its super loopy and very blocky the next.

🦐 Any allergies?

Fiore- kiwi (idk why i just know it in my soul) and latex

Agliata- pollen and cockroaches

#asks #ask game #fiore tag #agliata tag

[can-childe-step-on-me]

Please join our server “Genshin for Crackheads” administrated by @xiaosclover​, @tonedeafbardehe​ and me! https://discord.gg/qSWhvFzA

Okay, this demented carrot child always comes first in his year in practically every subject in Liyue Academy without breaking a sweat.

Then you came along from Mondstadt School for Gifted Students and came in first place, with Childe 1 mark behind you

This is obviously a huge blow to him, because no one has ever upstaged him and over 1 stupid mark too! 

School is shit too, so everyone makes a big deal out of it too

Childe swears to god that if he heard one more, “But you were always first place!” he is going to drown the school

As long as you didn’t beat him in P.E, you were safe from his wrath-

*Insert a visual representation of you wiping the floor with the poor boy’s ass in dodgeball*

You didn’t really make a big splash (haha) on your arrival to school as it was test week, but students flocked around you and Childe wishes that your innocent face were a little less cuter so that he could smash it in

He went up to you a few times too, looking for a fight that you tactfully avoided because feral children like Childe are to be ignored

You get bombarded with height jokes every ten seconds, and sometimes, a little whale doodle in found in the corner of your neat notes (in pencil, he doesnt hate you that much)

He becomes really studious at this point, taking notes in classes instead of daydreaming or playing Angry Bards on his phone 

“Joint first place...” You two mutter in disbelief, “JOINT FIRST PLACE?!” 

This is your breaking point too, this stupid orange beanpole cannot equal you in anyway

YOU DID NOT SUFFER A MONTH OF: “Can you reach that?” and variations of “Is the air more polluted down there?” Just for him to TIE with you

You look at him, his blue eyes shining with both fury and the thrill of a competition, both of you share an “It’s on”

This is it, boys. This is w a r

You and Childe squabble more often, perhaps not physically but there was this one time you tried to kick the back of his knees when he used you as an armrest

“You look a little tense down there, do you want a massage?” “I’ll massage your fucking neck-” “If you can reach it, that is.”

P.E is filled with sexual tension.

School is shit, so some of your classmates start shipping it

And though you deny it, and say that you would never date a note-sabotaging hooligan, you realise Childe incredibly gorgeous 

He knows you're beautiful too, which makes competition harder because sometimes he just daydreams about to next wrestling match you have with him. It's not because he likes you or anything he just looks forward to flirting fighting with you!

Then comes D-Day, the day when Childe got the message that he has a raging crush on you

So his brother Teucer, who's in primary school, is found crying in the school playground because he accidentally dropped the notebook his brother gave him into a puddle by none other than you 

You comfort him with chocolate and pick up the notepad, looking at the smudged ink that onced used to be a tutorial on multiplying fractions

Huh, this handwriting is familiar, and that whale doodle-  

Holy shit Childe writes notes for his brother? That’s?? So?? Cute??

Speak of the devil, hear comes the red head, his observant eyes catching the red rings under the small boy’s eyes

He grabs your collar, “What did you do to my brother?” 

Childe has never laid a hand on you before and doesn’t really overstep your boundaries, but if anyone touches his precious brother they will pay

Teucer looks at you two and nearly chokes on his chocolate, “They didn’t do anything! I just dropped-“

Small bub starts crying again and Childe hugs him, “Don’t worry Teucer, I'll write you more! I kinda forgot how to multiply fractions anyway!” He lies.

You’re on your way to the city centre, and since that’s close to where rich boy and rich boy jr lives, they tag along with you

“Thanks, y/n. Sorry for grabbing your collar, are you hurt?” He sheepishly scratches the back of his head, a little ashamed of losing his cool.

“I’m good. I never knew you had a brother!” You reply and Teucer jumps.

“Oh, is this the classmate you were talking about!? The one that beat you-” “SH-SHU-SHUSH TEUCER-”

And basically the rest of the day Teucer blabs about Childe’s crush on you

Childe just finds it adorable how you giggle at Teucer’s antics and how you speak so cutely and sofogohoho everything-

After that event, you kind of realise how nice Childe is

Like buying lollies for his senior, Zhongli during the summer

And sometimes he makes sure you eat well because he “can’t be happy when he beats you when you're not at your full capacity.”

He makes more height jokes, but they're in a gentler context now? Like, “You’re so angry and tiny, I should start calling you pocket rocket.” 

You’re slowly getting whipped for him too though. Sure, he draws those damn whale chibis in your notebook, but they have a little winky face and a heart now.

You don’t rub them out anymore, they’re too cute-

Childe burns himself out a lot, so you let him rest on your shoulder during free period and make sure he’s hydrated 

He’s whipped x2 now, good job

So now you guys go on study dates, and he’ll occasionally quiz you.

If you get something wrong, he gently flicks you on the forehead 🥺 But not too hard because “Competing against a person with dead brain cells is bad sportsmanship.”

Childe becomes more touchy (think chemistry, as time increases, the affection this boy has for you increases) like keeping you on one side of the road and ruffling your hair.

Everyone except you two know that you two are gonna be endgame at one point.

So 120000 coffee dates later, you ask him if he’s single or not (He’s popular with the ladies, gents and the non binary folk) and he shakes his head 

You twiddle your fingers and ask him out

Apparently, according to rumours, Childe is really harsh or incredibly sympathetic in terms of rejection.

Hoping to take the fall gently, you shut your eyes, but instead you feel your hands getting squeezing and you’re met with a red, flustered face 

Childe lets out a “Yes!” which comes out more shy than his usual coy tone of voice.

Ya’ll he’s so nice to you? He’ll still wrestle you and bully you about your height, but it’s so endearing?

So two new highschool sweethearts walk into school hand in hand all bubbly and lovey dovey. 

You both stare at the scoreboard of grades in your year...

You watch the colour drain from Childe’s face and when you look you feel like screaming...

“Joint... First... Place... AGAIN?!”

#genshin childe #ajax x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe #childe x reader #genshin school au #genshin impact #genshin tartaglia #genshin #genshin drabbles #genshin x reader

[inkykeiji]

i'm already hooked on your dark academia au, especially after this recent post about touya. just those details are making this version one of my top favorites on your takes on his character. any additional headcanons on dark academia tomura or keigo? obviously totally okay if not! i'm just in love with this au already, your brain is so big and beautiful, clari!

ARE YOU ehehehehehe aw that makes me happy to hear!! oh my gosh wow, ahaha well thank you! YES let’s get into them under the cut!!

prof keigo

✰ literally everyone’s favourite prof on campus, and everyone either wants him or wants to BE him. it’s extremely difficult to get a spot in any of his lectures—they fill up ridiculously quickly

✰ he’s actually a fantastic professor with a passion for teaching and, despite how scummy he is underneath it all, is committed to genuinely educating his students and hopes for all of them to succeed!! he does actually care for them, you know—those extended office hours aren’t just for the pretty girls playing dumb to get a few extra minutes alone with him, they really are to help students who actually need help, too.

✰ ^^ these students absolutely cannot stand the girls who come to office hours just to twirl their hair and bat their eyelashes and giggle about how funny he is. he knows this, too, and is always sure to extend his office hours for as long as he needs to until he works through all of the students waiting outside his door, even if it cuts into his own research time. he’s fair, after all. he is a teacher first, and a corrupting playboy second

✰ has an award-winning smile that you just can’t resist smiling back, and it always warms your insides when he shoots one your way

✰ always wears thick-framed black glasses, either slipping down the bridge of his nose or behind his ears, pushing back that wild golden hair of his, and always comes to class with coffee from either 1. some hipster cafe or 2. some absurdly expensive european cafe

✰ he’s the youngest member of the university faculty by far, but is already making a name for himself in his field, publishing incredible papers as well as holding additional lectures. most of his colleagues like him and are in respectful awe of him, but there are a few that are jealous, of course

✰ is a little technology challenged and often has several students jumping up at the opportunity to help him getting his keynote working, again. it’s okay, though, it just adds to his charm <3

tenko

✰ believe it or not, he actually comes to class meticulously prepared and takes the most beautiful notes—he’s super organized in all aspects of his life!! seeing touya come to class so carelessly irks him beyond belief

✰ his handwriting is tiny and neat, for the most part, unless he’s writing very quickly; then it becomes a little sloppier

✰ he doesn’t bring a laptop to class, even though it’s more efficient to take notes on, because he gets distracted and ends up coding, working on whatever new game he’s begun creating or, worse, playing a game

✰ absolutely thinks he’s better than every single person in every single one of his classes and, as a result, has next to no friends. he doesn’t mind, though. he likes being alone, and claims that he would never want the company of those other students anyway

✰ hates his major but is finishing his undergrad just so his father will shut the fuck up and not pull his inheritance from him. his father knows this, too, but really just wants tenko to fill his time with something other than video games. he is secretly hoping that throughout his undergrad his son will ‘grow up’ a little and find a new, more sophisticated passion, but he knows that it’s next to impossible

✰ on the other hand, tenko hopes that his father will eventually give into his incessant whining and complaining and allow him to switch to a computer science major. he’s very skilled in breaking his father down and getting what he wants, so he assumes it’s just a matter of time

✰ tenko’s a streamer + programmer online with a decent following, though he uses a pseudonym and refuses to show his face. still, he knows it’ll be great for when he finally releases his own game

✰ chews on his pens. like, BAD.

✰ is incredibly intelligent—not to touya’s level, of course, tenko actually has to put in a teeny tiny bit of effort to his assignments and studying. and this BOTHERS him, because touya’s such a jackass and why does he get to have it so easy??? it isn’t fair!!

✰ he loves to read, and often brings a book or two to class with him to read on break. if you manage to somehow strike up a conversation with him and talk about either 1. gaming/programming or 2. the fantasy/sci-fi book he’s currently reading, his face will absolutely light up and he’ll become much more animated than usual. touya thinks it’s so childish, and spends his time reading ‘great literature and philosophy’ to ‘better himself’, but tenko isn’t concerned with anything like that. he reads for fun, and as an escape <3

#fuck i love this AU so much too anon #aaaaaaaaaah!!!!! #i hope you enjoy these <33 #sorry it took me a day or two to get to!! #and thank you for such sweet words anon bb!!! <333 #you’re so precious!!!! #please have a lovely day <3 and stay safe out there!!! #sweet anon 🥺 #clari gets mail #clari’s dark academia!au #inky.darkacademia

[hiyorisarugaki]

Letters to Muken

@keikakudori from here:

Hiyori does not receive mail in Seireitei. Any messages or hell butterflies are specifically addressed to Shinji. He has a job and several connections here. All she has are those fierce little allies that she cannot let go of in this- or any dimension. So imagine her surprise when she receives something addressed to her. It bears an official seal on it and she is loathed to touch something that could be shinigami-related. She does not want to deal with any of that. She only wants to live her life now.

But then, after some deliberation, she is compelled to read the letter. The handwriting is foreign, but clear. The words are alien– but as soon as she gets through the first few lines, a chill runs straight through her spine. She’s lost the feeling in her legs and she’s quite glad nobody can see her fierce self lose composure over some words.

Did… she expect her perfect little life to one day shatter? Yes. But has she expected her random letter ever to be answered? No. None of her letters were answered before. After all, she who hated writing and formulating responses… had written until her fingers were sore and bleeding. She had sent many a tearful letter to Kirio, begging almost at the end to take her with her… Not a single answer had been given.

But now she has a reply. A neat, prim reply. Familiar words are dancing around the page. Words from someone a long, long time ago.

This is not the reply she expects. If she has wanted a reply… she wanted it filled with a burning challenge. Some fancy, flowery lines where he mocked her and asked her to bide her time until he returns to ruin everything.

But what she got instead was… a conversation. And his dialogue compelled her to pick up a piece of paper and respond in kind. She wasn’t here to offer him something as magnanimous as forgiveness. Hiyori is not an angel. And she certainly is no shinigami. She is no longer a pure dweller in the court of purest souls. She cannot offer things like forgiveness.

But all she can offer him is her own confusion. Her fingers trembled, gripping the pen too hard. She has not picked up a writing brush in decades. She uses a small thing like a pen now, scratching out harsh letters on pages that begged for some ink.

Sosuke,

Ya really goin’ crazy in there if ya like readin’ yer hate mail.  

… Hirako-Taichou. At least ya remember that name. Guess ya already know he’s a captain again. Restored his name again. Took 100 years for him ‘ta take back the position after you stole it from him.

Why d’ya do that? Yer clever and yet ya steal Kisuke’s Hougyoku. Ya steal Shinji’s position. Ya steal souls from Rukongai. Ya steal arrancar and turn ‘em into Espada. Is Kyoka Suigetsu really yer zanpakuto? Is that really yer own soul cutter or did ya steal that too?

What’s actually yours?

I remember those times at the fifth division too. Faker than yer fuckin’ prescription glasses.

I ain’t yer friend. Ya don’t got any friends, Sosuke. Ya don’t get ‘ta use that word when yer out here ruinin’ people’s lives for yer own grand plans.

And it’s good that yer feelin’ some remorse in that shithole. This is a punishment, since ya can’t apparently die. I still think that’s fake news too. Seireitei is full of shittygami and they can say what they want and everyone’ll believe their packs of lies. Of course, ya know all about that. Ya played ‘em for so long.

Yer lyin’ now, ain’t ya?

sp- prudent? What the fuck does that mean? Stop usin’ fancy words. Even now, yer bein’ shitty!

Ya sayin’ ya knew my weaknesses? Big fuckin’ deal. I am the first ‘ta attack anyway. It ain’t some amazing observation, genius.

Ya used me ‘ta hurt Shinji? That’s fuckin’ dumb. Ya could’a just started fighting him. And it wasn’t even you that attacked me- that shitty Gin kid did!! It hurt like a bitch btw, since ya didn’t ask.

Uhh. Don’t believe ya. Ya were his lieutenant. Yer fuckin’ job was ‘ta PROTECT him and ya hurt him? And this conveniently came with yer sneaky plans ‘ta become idk… wtf was even yer plan? Soul King or sommat?? Sounds like yer lying. Yer obviously lying. And I ain’t gonna ask Shinji anything. He already somehow feels like yer shitty decisions are his fault. Like who knows ya enjoyed a lil hollowfication with yer wagashi on the side? Fuck knows.

Don’t butter me up with compliments. I ain’t a child!

And the only reason I was even aware of anythin’ that night– - I was so fuckin’ ashamed! My zanpakuto had cut Shinji! I’d sonner cut my own head!

Don’t talk about my heart.  Don’t talk about what ya learned. Are ya confusin’ yer victims? I ain’t no Hinamori. I’m Hiyori. Did she also send ya letters? She looks the type.

Don’t talk about my loyalty and shit that ya know nothing about. Ya got no loyalty, so how d’ya know if I am loyal? Ya ain’t scared of anythin’. Ya ain’t scared of bein’ overpowered or hurt or losin’ yer mind. So how the fuck d’ya know what being brave is like?

I ain’t a good woman. I’m permanently disfigured.

I can’t go back ‘ta bein’ who I was. But I’ll never let ya hurt my friends again. And don’t pretend ‘ta worry about Shinji. He’s havin’ the time of his life now that he’s got a cute lieutenant. 

I hate you. Don’t simper, it’s pissing me off.

-Hiyori

#.letters #!aizen #keikakudori

[infaethable]

so because of a one-off mention from a friend that riz has a notarized will, i got in in my head that like. riz writes letters to all the bad kids in the event of him dying. and then i made it fabriz because i have a one-track mind baby! here are some barely coherent discord messages that i cannot in good conscience call writing. trigger warning for PERCEIVED major character death ;)

sklonda leaves fabian's letter for last. the rest of the group is already opening theirs, and she hesitates on fabian's and says, "i'm a really good detective, and if what's in there, is what i think is in there... you might want to read that alone"

fabian is just stone cold and he hasn't shown a single expression on his face since the news really settled in, and he stalls for a second before running his thumb under the seam of the letter, gets a paper cut he can’t even really feel, and reads the last words riz will ever say to him.

and it takes all of a minute for it to break him. 

fabian doesn’t that know he's in love with riz until he sees the words "i think that telling you i'm in love with you after i'm gone would be the most cowardly and cruel thing i would ever do, and for that sake, i hope you never see this." written in riz's neat but blocky handwriting. 

and then it all comes crashing over him.

all the stolen glances, all the midnight calls that riz picked up on the first ring, the electric few inches between their hands at the lunch table, the necklace tucked under his tank top, he should have known.

fabian’s crying so hard that it’s hard to breathe, and then he actually stops being able to breathe. he feels his heart pounding in his chest and a phantom weight atop it, and adaine kneels in front of him, grabs his hands, says something but he can’t hear it over the beat of his own eardrums. 

fabian thinks he might be having a panic attack. 

adaine, who spent the last three days sobbing in bed till she thought she had no more tears left, has tears running down her face again now as she’s trying to guide fabian through it, in for four, hold, out for four, again-

and she’s looking at the look on fabian’s face, and she knows.

she's never been particularly good at reading people before. but she's seen what riz looks- looked. like when fabian did something that broke his heart just a little bit, and fabian is drowning in it.

adaine doesn't even know what riz wrote in the letter. but riz told her once that he'd rather die than tell fabian, and he was wrong. he is- was, fuck, her brother, in all but law and blood, but she's looking at fabian, fabian who's on his fucking knees in grief like she's never seen him before, even when he plunged his birthright sword through his father's chest, this is different, that was fabian grieving and this is fabian broken and her brother god rest his fucking soul was wrong.

adaine abernant knows a thousand things about riz gukgak. she knows he secretly hates unsweetened coffee, she knows his favorite record, she knows his tells when he's trying to cheat at blackjack, she knows he loves his friends like a holy vow, like a vengeance left of violent, she knows the password to his phone and his blood type and what he looks like when he's mad, and if she knows anything she knows that he loved fabian with every drop of blood he's ever spilled and every corner of his heart and whatever soul left after his body's gone cold, and if he won't tell him, then she will.

and so when fabian's heart rate is on the right side of resting, and he's crying into her shoulder she says, quiet, near his ear, so that he’s the only one who hears,

"he loved you back, i should have told him to tell you, i should have pushed harder-" and fabian burrows more into her shoulder and cries like she’s never seen him cry before. 

gorgug and fig and kristen are all watching, and fabian wants to break things, he wants to scream till his voice blows out, he wants to burn the world to the fucking ground, and most of all he wants to see riz one last time. he wants to put his hands on riz's waist and tell him he loves him till he believes it. 

and fabian balls his fists on adaine's back and says, "i should have known, i should've fucking known-" and gorgug falls to his knees beside fabian and wraps him in a hug, and fig and kristen do the same, and the fact that fabian aramais seacaster is in love with riz gukgak went from a secret no one, not even fabian himself, knew, to an open fact in under five minutes.

and fabian, for all his bravado, has never been a man with a large amount of rage. this isn’t to say he’s never been angry, but there's a special kind of rage, one tracker whispers in the dark at sleepovers about like a ghost story, one that's laced into his father's conquests. the kind of rage that makes you want to claw at anything you can get your dirty hands on and damn the consequences. one that curls in fabian's gut now, not at riz, never at riz, but at whatever god that allowed this to happen.

there are a lot of gods, he knows. gods of rage and bloodshed, gods of nature, and storms, and the sea. 

there are gods of love. he hates them most of all.

and his birthright sword, leaning on the wall behind him, starting from the golden basket hilt turning red hot, seems to burn to the beat of his heart.

and against all senses, he reaches, and the design of the hilt brands his palm with lines, crisscrossing across his palms. he barely feels it. 

(somewhere far away, he knows riz had scars like that. light green lines from his time in the palimpsest, where glass had shattered and imbedded itself. had stayed there too long without a magical heal to fade.)

and the brands fade from red hot and sizzling to oil black. it enters his bloodstream, spreads up his veins, and fabian can feel when it envelops his senses because he can smell fire and brimstone and salt and gunpowder-

and fig, in an instant, widens her eyes and tries to knock the sword out of his hands, but fabian holds tight, fabian’s vision unfocuses and refocuses on a liminal black void, looks up and sees fire rolling across the sky, hears a familiar voice in the back of his mind,

"darling boy, what could possibly have you so broken up that i felt your rage nine hells down?"

and fabian feels a connection in his mind just left of the hangman, and says, not out loud, 

"if you'll forgive me for the tone, only realizing you're in love with someone after they've died would perhaps have that effect papa."

distantly, adaine is trying to shake his shoulders out of whatever state he's in. distantly, fig is pleading with him not to do it, that if he really wants it she can work a deal out with her dad. distantly, kristen is gearing up to cast a dispel evil and good, and distantly, gorgug is asking adaine if he should hit fabian in the head with his ax, but right now his papa just takes a sharp intake of breath through the modified message and says, 

"oh my darling boy. i'm so sorry. would you like some powers about it?" 

and fabian's gut curls, that rage, they didn't even have a fucking body to bury-

riz's letter is still clutched in his hands as he says, "yes."

#this takes place in between freshman and sophomore year #maybe around november? i did write it in dms #also i promise there is more but it is. five in the morning #because if this is barely coherent the original was like. not even readable #and i will edit the second part tomorrow #also do not read this tag until AFTER you've read the whole thing but #Warlock Fabian Cool In This Instance #fabriz #it is ONLY going in the fabriz tag and none of the other ones #my writing #is a tag i will probably not use again unless i post another poem #i am not in fact a fiction writer. i do poems

[glitterbootsharry]

Two- Witchy Woman

Disclaimer: I do not know much about witchcraft or anything associated with it besides the few tv shows and movies I have seen. If I have gotten anything wrong or mixed up, please feel free to let me know. I want to get as much right as I can as I have done some research, but I know I do not know a lot.

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I bite at my thumb pad as I look my dilemma in the eye and time is running out. Rowan will be here soon, and after making the last clean up check, I decide that my bleached tee isn’t good enough for the small study session. Two button up shirts lay on my bed, covering the blue plaid quilt my mum bought me when I first moved out- she cried as she pressed the nonexistent wrinkles out of the thick fabric with her hands, tucking the corners neatly under the mattress. My eyes divert between the two. They’re the same, in reality, just inverted colors of the other. The white droplets on the black silk. The black droplets on the white silk. I walk over to my top drawer and search for the matching neck scarf that I insisted on buying, giving my older sister another reason to roll her eyes at me. I hear a sudden knock on my front door and in haste, I pull out my answer to my dilemma.

“Coming,” I call out, buttoning the white droplet shirt. I ruffle my long curly hair before rushing to the front door, my shirt half-buttoned.

I turn the knob, holding my breath as I watch Rowan come into view. Her hair is pulled into a neat ponytail hoisted high on her head and she’s wearing a black graphic tee that her sleeves rolled up. “Hi,” my voice croaks as she stands outside my flat door with her backpack on her shoulders. The black velvet chicken lays across her throat as it tighter as she smiles softly at me with her mouth parts slowly.

“Hi.” My hand grips the brass knob tightly as I lean against the wooden door, crossing my legs in front of one another. I become all too aware of how long I look at Rowan, drinking in her brown eyes and drowning in her glowing skin. I want to stare at her all day- she could be doing nothing and I would be intrigued.

“Can I come in or are we studying out here?” She cocks her brow up at me, a sly smile forming on her mouth before I push the door open completely forgetting the reason she came here for.

“Oh, erm, yeah,” I rub the nape of my neck, embarrassed as I motion her through the doorway. She walks past me, her shoulder brushing my chest, and I smell the sweet scent of flowers. “How are you?” I close the door and follow her into my living room. It’s small, with only a couch, television and its stand and small coffee table in between the two, but it’s one of my favorite places in the flat. She sits down on the cream leather couch and begins to dig through her bag.

“I’m fine,” she says as she pulls out two copies of The Tempest. “Didn’t know if you had a copy so I grabbed one from the store. If that’s okay?” She hands me the red used book, corners of the pages slightly torn from the previous owners’ use. I suddenly feel warm as I stand in the room, all too aware of my looming presence. I sit down beside her, looking over the book before realizing that my own book is in my bedroom. “Thanks,” I hold up my gift before gently opening the cover. Inside was a new inscription from the gingerly handwriting that I have just now come in contact with.

“I owed you.”

I smiled as I turned the page and began to read the play again. I can’t help but notice how close we’re sitting next to each other, feeling the electricity nearly flying through us. I clear my throat as I try to concentrate on the printed words, but her slow breathing fills my ears. I adjust my black jeans and run my hand across the length of my jeans, wiping the slight sweat away. It was too much for any man to bear, being in the room with Rowan, let alone being this close to her. My pinky could reach over and touch the exposed skin of her knees and I’d melt into liquid. I look over at her, her brows furrowed in concentration, and I feel my heart begin to race. The black ink tattoo behind her ear is of a crescent moon and stars creeping onto her neck. “Do you want some coffee? Tea? Crisps?” I ask, finally breaking the heavy and unbearable silence between us. Rowan looks up at me, completely exasperated, and smiles softly, placing her hand in the crook of the small book with her pencil stuck in her ponytail.

“Sure,” she says, her voice melodic to my ears. Her eyes are dark when looking up at me and I feel my throat run dry and I can’t seem to watch her watching me. Normally, I’m calm and collected around women- I can chat them up all the way to my bedroom to pull my leg over, but Rowan… She makes me nervous when she walks into the room with my stomach in knots. “Whatever you have is nice. Don’t go and make a fuss because of me.”

You’re worth the fuss, I think to myself. What is going on, Styles? You’re never like this.

I shake my head and leave the living room to Rowan. The kitchen, though small, is big enough to let my thoughts out. I think Rowan’s beautiful, yes, but why am I so nervous around her? She’s just my classmate and we’re doing a project together. Calm down.

The kettle hisses at me, letting me know it’s ready and I pour it into a teapot, grab two cups placing them with sugar and milk on a small tray my absent father gave me two birthdays ago and tuck the half empty bag of crisps under my elbow. I walk back into the living room with Rowan on the phone, her voice frantic.

“You sure? Is she okay?” she asks, turning her body into the couch when she sees me. “Alright, erm, I’ll be right there. Thank you, Mary.”

She looks up at me with pleading eyes full of regret before she speaks, her voice barely above a squeak.

“I’ve got to go. It’s me Gran.” She stands and proceeds to shove her book into her bag before she walks out of my flat, but not before I place the tray down on the table with a force that I never meant to use, rattling the porcelain dishes.

“Wait, let me, at least, walk you down,” I call out, running after her as I rake my hair in frustration. I closed the door, half running after Rowan as she glided down the stairs. She’s in the car park before I can break ground. The sound of the engine spurring fills the air. She tries to turn the engine again, again, and again until I reach the opened car door.

“You’ll flood the engine that way. Be no use to you then,” I say, my smile trying to calm Rowan down. “I can take you.”

“I can’t ask that of you, Harry,” Rowan’s voice breaks, tears spilling down her face.

“You didn’t ask, love, I offered. C’mon,” I nod my head back to my flat. “Let me grab my keys and wallet and we’ll be on the way, yeah?” Rowan nods as she stands outside her car. I hear the slamming of her door when I turn to leave and a hushed, “Fuck.”

***

“It’s down there. First little dirt road on your left,” Rowan points at the small brown path that barely lets my car fit on its way. It was a quiet thirty minute drive to the small village Rowan calls home. Shere- the small town that never lets any new business go unnoticed. Rowan busied herself calling Mary again to check in, letting her know she was on the way. I pull up to a small weather worn red brick house with flowers planted in every inch of ground that could be except for the small gravel pathway that leads you to the front wooden door. Roses, tulips, daffodils, wildflowers- Rowan had every flower that one could have, but the majority of the vast arrangement of color were roses- pink, yellow, purple, red. Vines and moss creep up the brick of the house with no intention of stopping.

“You want to come in?” Rowan asks as she begins to climb out of my car. “Be a shame that you came all this way without a proper cup of tea and a thank you.”

“You want me to come in?” I ask, but Rowan pushes the front door of her home open by the time I climb out of my car. She left the front door open for me and when I walked in, the strong scent of flowers and chocolate hit my nose.

“Gran?” Rowan calls out, her eyes frantic as she walks into the front hallway. “Why don’t you wait for me in the parlor? Gran should be coming soon.” She turns her head looking back into the open sliding glass door into the back garden. “Erm, she’s got a bit of a memory problem so…” She looks back up to me, tears brimming over.

“Go,” I say, “I’ll find the parlor. Don’t worry about me.” Rowan smiles, graciously, and walks into the back garden, which unsurprisingly, has more roses and plants within eyesight. I wander around the small home, the cozy air reminding me of my childhood one, before I find the small unused parlor. Book line the walls- all the way from Poe to Everything to You Need to Know about Herbs. I run my finger over the spine of a small leather book labeled “Astarte’s Book of Shadows”. I pull it from the row, the leather claiming the books that sit next to it. It feels heavy when I finally have it in my hands and I have an urge to open it, but the feeling fades when I hear Rowan’s voice.

“Gran, you can’t do that. The cookies were burning. You scared me. What if I-“

“Ya Amar, you cannot worry about such things. I’m fine. How was your reading with that tall boy you told me about?” A sweet, but stern voice spoke back at Rowan’s concerns.

“You were sitting on the garden wall- the high one. But,” Rowan sighed. “My car wouldn’t start so he brought me. He’s in the study, Gran. Behave.” A small elderly woman that looked almost like Rowan with a crooked back turned into the room. Her skin was tanned like Rowan’s but with white long hair in a braid. Her skin, wrinkled with sun spots, was also covered with small tattoos. She looked up at me and smiled before sitting down on the blue couch that I was standing behind. I placed the black book back on the shelf and sat down beside the aging woman. I extend my hand and introduce myself.

“Harry Styles, madam.” She looks at my hand and smiles. Her fragile fingers wrap around my pinky, pulling me towards her. She places her other hand over the top of mine before speaking.

“You know she likes you too. Only one who's ever been truly nice to her. Alice Lloyd.” She lets go of my hand and laughs softly as she was in a small joke that I was unaware of.

Do what? I think. I never said…

“You didn’t have to.”

“Gran, behave.” Rowan brings three cups in one hand. I try to stand to help her, but she shoots me down. She brings an antique teapot. She gently pours tea into the three cups, smiling as she hands Alice her cup and as she hands me my own, her smile is full of gratitude.

“Quite a garden you have,” I say speaking to both women. “It’s lovely.”

“Gran started it when she moved here years ago. I just try to keep it up,” Rowan sits down into the chair opposite us. Her hair is down, small tendrils falling into her face as she blows into the small cup.

“You do more than that, ya amar. You put the new basil bush in just yesterday. Don’t sell yourself short, love,” Alice sighs before turning to me. “You from London, Harry?”

“Just outside. Holmes Chapel in Cheshire. My mum owns a pub there in town.”

“How nice,” Alice looks at my shirt and I’m all too aware that my shirt is nearly unbuttoned, exposing my two swallows on my chest and the butterfly on my torso. I clear my throat as I try to casually button the rest of my shirt. “You go to the university, as well? English major? Let me guess, you want to become a writer?”

“Gran,” Rowan’s voice is short- her eyes not faltering from her tea.

“Well, it looks like the fun for me has run out. The adventure outside has taken me so I think I’ll retire to my bedroom for the evening. Good meeting you, Harry,” Alice motions me to lean closer to her with her finger and when doing so, I feel the slight wet kiss on my cheek. I smile before speaking, “Nice meeting you Gran.”

Rowan helps her grandmother up and when they think they’re out of hearing, I hear the small whisper, “He’s got dimples, Rowan. Quite handsome. Don’t mess this up.”

I smile, my dimples evident, as I hear Rowan’s small, but grand response, my heart overwhelming with joy and wanting.

“I won’t. As long as he doesn’t.”

###

@awomanindeniall​ @sunflwr-styles​

#harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles ofc #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry 1d #1dff #1d fan fiction #harry styles poc #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic