#although i do feel this might have been the most satisfying end they could have gone with considering what they had

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Aegon is the best big brother to his sweet sister, who is in third trimester of pregnancy; not only does he help her relieve the feeling of her heavy breasts by sucking on her tits greedily like a babe, he sometimes helps the aching feeling between her legs by sticking his cock, tongue or fingers in her cunny

Such a good brother, especially when she’s not even his wife

Blood of my Blood.

PAIRING: Older!Brother!Aegon ii Targaryen x Little!Sister!Fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,715.

WARNINGS: incest to the max, implied affair [Aegon is the father of the child], age gap [reader is of mature/consensual age], lactation kink, pregnancy kink, slight reference to breeding kink, p in v sexual intercourse, possessive!Aegon, swearing.

A/N - now I NEVER write brother x sister tropes even in the ASOIAF universe just because it’s not really my cup of tea, but this ask sparked something very very feral in me. I might make a neice x uncle version of this or a Daddy Aeg x daughter!reader version.

credit to the owners of the images.

Curse the Gods who afflicted the journey of motherhood, for it could be such a gruelling thing... Heading into the final few moons of your first pregnancy, you had never felt such intense discomfort in your life. Your beloved mother, Queen Alicent, had informed you of such grievances, although with little empathy for her pregnancies had been quite embracing and facile. Your eldest sister, Helaena, having already given birth to a set of twins, now in the early stages of her current pregnancy with your elder brother, Aemond, could somewhat console you, becoming an anchor of support.

It was Aegon, your eldest of the siblings, that you seemed most attached to, for it was Aegon that granted you bliss in your pregnancy, more so than your absent husband, some delinquent lord of the Vale. You had argued your way with your mother, and batted your eyes to your father, begging you to stay in King's Landing, in familiar territory with the finest maesters at hand. More so, it was Aegon who had plotted with you this essential plan.

"Do you truly think that the maesters of the Vale and that imbecile you call husband will keep you safe and satisfied, dear sister? Not in the least... But I can."

Aegon's temptress of a tongue was convincing alone, although it had been his merciful gestures of chivalry that kept you sane and grounded. Easing your aches and pains of expecting, Aegon became your sole beacon of ease, like the formidable arms of a warrior and you, the damsel he heroically carries.

"Do they ache again, sweet sister?"

The softness in his husky, drowsy voice breaking the silence of the chamber, woke you whole from your half-hearted daze. You had both succumbed to slumber [often Aegon insisted that you remain closely by his side, even in bed] what felt like hours long ago, and yet through the ginger firelight, by the open window, night remained swallowing the sky.

"Mhmm-" You uneasily stir: weakly trying to muster enough strength to sit yourself upright: however, with the sheer, bulging mass of your grown belly you visibly struggled until Aegon's efforts of pulling you effortlessly upright ended your dilemma.

"Want me to help, princess?"

His calloused, thick hands began to rub small, soothing circles against your lower back, knowing the babe inside exerted much pressure on your lower spine: its weight growing more rigid with each passing month.

"You've helped me enough, Aegon. I mustn't ask more from you... If this state is any indication of me being a mother, consider me a terrible one," You defeatedly utter, one hand stretched from behind supporting your upright position, whilst the other softly caressed at the protruding temple of your clothed belly.

"Don't speak like that, Y/N, dearest. This is your first babe, you must understand your body is adjusting. Hel suffered a great deal with the twins also, and now, look at her... You are going to be a beautiful mother, indeed. I have no doubt...C'me here."

Lightly tapping at your exposed thigh, your night gown had been pulled up just below your way with all the commotion and movement. Obeying, Aegon summoned you onto his lap, shirtless he had entered the bed, however before you could even gather motion to straddle yourself atop: he'd managed to tear away his undergarments, leaving his exposed girth, reddened at the tip with excitement. Modestly covering himself with the sheer, ivory linen.

"Right now?" Your snappy tone vicious, however Aegon remained unfazed.

"Well, little sister, if I'm being quite frank it seems you've been dreaming quite vividly... Do you not hear the moans and pleas that escape your lips in sleep, crying out for me, begging... Want your elder to sate you, is it? Was that babe growing inside of you not enough, you wish me to spoil you some more, hmm?"

"A-Aeg- We shouldn't..." You meekly whimper, a surge of heat coursing through your face, certain your cheeks had grown scarlet with shame.

"All you had to do was ask."

His dark voice a low growl, like some concealed predator eager to ambush. Aegon's motions remained in contrast, tender and cautious, easing your delicate and sensitive frame over his wide, gelatinous thighs. A scorching sensational painfully heightened sent lightning bolts in waves throughout the entirety of your body, shuddering with excitement as your aching cunt eased itself over his pulsating cock. It had been a while since you had been intimate with Aegon like this, prior to the pregnancy in fact: the changes your body had undergone since were bracing and raw.

Feeling the tensity beneath and the heat as you began to bob ever so slowly and sensually over Aegon's tense, fat cock: feeling its hard tip hitting at your cervix [you had hoped rather than the babe]. Your tight walls overstretched, desperate to adjust to his girthy width, you swore to yourself it had never felt this stimulating ever before: every primal sense in your body, every fibre of your being resisting the urge to collapse into a faint against Aegon's soft chest, gripping onto the bare, pale skin of his broad shoulders for dear life.

"That's it, rūs [baby], doing so-so well. It hurts I know, but Daddy's gonna make you feel so much better. Keep going, princess."

Head rolling back in admiration, you felt the intensity from between your inner thighs beginning to lessen, a wetness pooling between, coating the friction to ease the motions. Your hands release their strong hold over him, as your eyes began to wonder over his body, you had immediately noticed the raw, reddened marks lashed across his ivory skin. To avoid any more damage, you guide your relaxed hands up towards Aegon's short strands.

Tugging and playfully pulling at the loose, platinum locks, whilst Aegon's face remained buried, eagerly lapping at your petal-like skin on the base of your neck. One strong arm snaked around your back, gripping you firmly by the neck providing some lumbar support, whilst the other strategically untied the knots of lace at the front of your night gown, exposing your voluptuously full tits. Hardened nipples raw and perky, even as Aegon teasingly flicked at your tit with this thumb, a grimace forming across his handsome face you felt against your skin: kneading the swollen, plump flesh with his palm, you instinctively squirmed and moaned with such debility.

"Seven Hells, you are so fucking full, dārilaros [princess]. This babe is going to be so spoiled. Such a good Mumma, already eager with milk for the bub... Could feed the an entire realm, Mumma."

"J-Just you A-Aeg. Only you get to taste this sweet m-milk before the babe. T-Tell me how good I taste," Stuttering whimpers mottled between mouthful of moans echoed between the dense walls of Aegon's royal chambers. His fat cock still buried and plunging itself deeply inside of you, penetrating against your already tainted and filled womb, Aegon's hand cupped at your breast from beneath. Lifting your tit upwards, latching his mouth tightly against its curvature peak.

"Mhmm- Keep going big boy... M-Making me feel s-so good, A-Aeg. H-Have your full."

The imminent relief your occupied tit began to succumb to, felt like a blissful dream. You felt your breath could finally release, not hitched against your throat from the sheer agony of feeling it was about to burst. The milk you intently sensed, lusciously pouring into Aegon's ravenous mouth, his plump, moist lips suckling at your skin, totally encompassing the nipple in its entirety. His teeth lightly gnawed at your flesh, however, it was a pleasant sensation nonetheless.

"So w-warm and fresh- Gonna f-fill me up so fucking much. P-Poor princess... The weight of these, the copious a-amount- I-I'm greedy for you. Sh-Should've fucked you earlier in your womanhood... Drenching your w-womb of my seed, till we fill the keep i-if need be. M-Mother would rather enjoy it."

Aegon, famished like a destitute of the realm, bathed his taste-buds of your milk from one breast and onto the other: regaining his breath between each as he felt inclined to credit your production. Descending his face down once more, he spared no further second wasting away, as he continued to fervently feed, like a man starved of pure water.

"Th-The el-eldest you may b-be, such a b-big baby y-you are. S-So needy for me, huh? A-Always needing t-to take me, m-make me yours. Every bit of me... Is devout t-to you, A-Aegon."

As if your breathless, sensual words had struck a chord in him, a man gone mad with a fever. His hold on you had tightened, his mouth suckled deeper, tugging at the flesh of your bosom, whilst his cock felt it had grown a size more inside of you. The wet mess coating between your inner thighs now glazed all over Aegon's plump lap, expressed no denial of his power over you, the purpose he gave to you. In theory and practice, you felt your body collapsing into a bliss, a shudder of ecstasy waved through your feeble body as you screamed for Aegon, a gush of your wetness coating all over his stiff cock buried inside. Only to be met with Aegon's mutual appreciation of your vulnerability and submission towards him.

"That's it, baby. Such a beautiful woman... Gevives [beauty]. You honour me with this holy act. You privilege me to your womb, your body and your life... Skorkydoso kostagon nyke mirre deny ao mirros? [How can I ever deny you anything?]."

Easing yourself off of Aegon, your limp, frail body tiresome and relieved of such exploits endured. Aegon knew better than to leave you to your own strength, as absent as it was: carrying you over towards your empty side of the bed, still laying you closely against his natural warmth.

"Continue to serve me, brother. And I shall pay it back 100 times over... And besides, if it had not been for your mischief many moons ago, I would not be in such a state. Although, I wouldn't have it any other way, Aegon... I love you."

"Avy jorrāelan [I love you], my dearest, sweet little sister. Continue as you are and I might have to fuck another babe in you once more to teach you a lesson or two."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @zaldritzosrose

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe @callsignwidow

credit for divider - @/saradika-graphics

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fluff #aegon the second #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x sister!reader #king aegon ii targaryen #king aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #alicent hightower #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen

[astarionancuntnin]

listen, obviously i love astarion for multiple reasons, but ironically when i first started the game i wasnt interested in him, at all. i was fully commited to finding karlach and dating her bc of what i had seen online about her. i had barely heard or seen anything about him other than him being "the flirty vampire" and i was like eh okay

i ended up keeping him in my party cause his remarks were hilarious and i really vibed with his energy. and then he started opening up and you get to see how the whole overconfidence and flirting was an act, he starts talking about cazador and what he went through and how determinate he is to take him down. he keeps mentioning how he cannot wait to get rid of his master and how satisfied hes going to be, and hes smiling just thinking about it

then we learn about the ritual and theres this sudden spark in him, hes convinced that its the answer to his problems, he gets tunnel vision on the ritual, and if you romance him he also thinks its the only way he can assure not only his own safety, but also yours.

and when you finally win the fight, you have to save him from himself. hes desperate, completely blinded by the power he could potentially have. if he has this power, hes never going to be vulnerable, no one will abuse him ever again.

he is willing to lose himself to make sure he never gets hurt like this. even with high approval, if you dont succeed a persuasion roll or refuse to help him, he either turns against you or leaves your party. in his eyes, at this moment, you are the one who turned against him.

if you suceed the persuasion roll, he agrees that he can be better than cazador, and before stabbing him repeatedly, mentions (again) how hes going to enjoy this

only to break down right after. even though its something hes been wanting to do for centuries, all the suffering hes been through came crumbling down after it was done. cazador is dead, hes the one who killed him, he finally got his revenge, and yet he feels this emptiness.

its done, why do i not feel better?

if you saved him, he talks to you later and admits how he wasn't himself, how thankful he is that you helped him out and most of all, you believed in him. you saved him by believing he could be more than what he saw in himself.

if you talk to him after completing dame aylin's quest in act 3 (after killing cazador), he mentions how he expected her to rejoice after defeating yet another person who intended to enslave her, but shes just tired. hes comparing her reaction to his own experience after freeing himself from his abuser

and after karlach's reaction to killing gortash, he brings up the fact that theres "no justice in this world". contrary to what he believed earlier in the game, its not only him thats been wronged for several years. even though in the end they all got to get rid of the people who ruined their lives, they are still hurting.

hes realising that killing your abuser, although it seemed like the simple, satisying solution of finally having your revenge from years of trauma, might free you, but it will not fix you. they're dead, but you still have to live with what they've done to you.

he is my roman empire

#i..................cant stop thinking about him #my posts #astarion #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #pookie making me process my own trauma frfr #baldur's gate 3

[the-saltiest-saltine]

Reservations and Repose

(Yan!Chrollo x Fem Reader)

@sukunasfavoritehole hopefully this is enough to tide you over until my ao3 finally gets an update hehe

Word count: ~7.3k

------

You’re naïve enough to believe Chrollo’s asleep. He loves that about you.

Warnings: NOT SFW, non -con thigh fucking, somnophilia, drugging, imagined not sfw scenarios etc

a/n: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IT WAS 3/4 FINISHED THEN I FORGOT ABOUT IT my sincerest apologies.

Also this is my first time writing smut so please go easy on me 😥

Chrollo is very disappointed in you.

You let him kiss your cheek this morning following a deep sleep. You didn’t reciprocate, though he continues to see your progress and knows that an ever-hopeful yet can be added to the end of that statement. To some extent, the allowance of such an act could be chalked up to his acceptance of you, flaws and all, willing to appreciate the neutrality of it as opposed to ardent rejection. In a matter of weeks, you’ll be returning the gesture. And in a matter of months, you’ll be doing it gladly. Warmth, or perhaps weariness, has slowly but surely seeped its way into your actions recently, your shaky hands finding a place in his, fingers interlaced.

Is that to say he was under the impression that you’d completely given yourself to him? Absolutely not. There’s fear in your smiles, as much as they may have metamorphosed from obviously and mockingly forced to meek and endearing. Chrollo has shown you all that you know he can do. This has been enough to keep you relatively restrained over the months. If he showed you all that he knows he can do, you’d most likely curl up into a ball and sob until you dried out. That’s not necessary, though. It’ll never be.

Like many things, it wasn’t linear. It was a path that went upwards and downwards and forwards and backwards and in cycles, cycles that would always leave you curled up, sobbing in his arms, grasping onto him for whatever comfort it would give. But progress is progress, right?

Ignorantly, he began to believe the crumbs of affection, of acceptance, of acquiescence. Stupidly, he thought you were making progress. It’s been a significant amount of time since he was last this naïve. If he wasn’t so disgruntled by your transgression, he’d most likely bask in the nostalgic feeling. But he can’t, for the time being, because you’re trying to do something very rash.

As unfortunate as it is, you’re trying to leave him.

It’s audacious, having thought that the monumental power difference between you two had been thoroughly demonstrated on multiple occasions, a well established and silently acknowledged fact of your travels with him.

It’s irritating, although regarded with the same irritation as one would have with a pet goldfish trying to jump out of its tank. You silly thing, why do you want to abandon the place in which you are safe?

It doesn’t particularly make sense, though. He’s checked his cards - nothing suspicious has been bought in his name. No travel tickets or prepaid car hire. He’s even checked the jewellery collection - maybe you’d snatched up a nice necklace or bracelet or pair of diamond earrings to pawn off. But again, nothing. No suspicious bags have been packed. No loose tiles or floorboards or ceiling panels to hide supplies in. Your clothes are all neatly folded and hung in your wardrobe. 

You’ve got something up your sleeve- something desperate and jittery and not fully thought out. Something that relies on luck and prayers far more than precision and blow-by-blow planning. He never particularly took you for a daredevil, but to see you get pushed to such a limit, to be forced against your own timid nature, is beyond satisfying. If he could pluck it out of you and analyse it under a microscope, he’d be elated. Or perhaps even, he supposes to himself, he’d be so fulfilled that he might abandon the current pathway of his life, aimless and bloody and cyclical, finally so consumed with his obsession over you that nothing else is valued in the slightest. 

He can’t say he didn’t expect an ulterior motive for your apparent benevolence, at least initially, but for it to be kept up for this long? The stares felt almost too natural. The gradual lessening of your flinches when he placed a hand on your shoulder, the way your gaze would be drawn to him rather than away, even if only to flick away immediately - the subtleties were downright impressive. To be able to track everything simultaneously, to be able to remember to exhibit so many behaviours at once…Perhaps he should be taking acting lessons from you.

Chrollo had watched you, humming a pop tune this morning, cheekily shaking your hips from side to side as you fried some eggs, over easy, the notes sometimes interrupted with a sharp inhale between your teeth when the oil spat just a bit too high and would burn you ever-so-slightly. A domestic sight.

You’d let him give you another kiss on the cheek before he shrugged his coat on, giving you one last lingering glance before he’d walked out the door and into the hallway of the apartment, locking it with warm Nen made of comfort rather than capture. He gave you another cheek kiss (despite his ever-growing urge to dip lower) when he got home to the smell of spices and vegetables and the bubbling sound of a low simmer. You don’t fight them anymore, and barely even recoil now, a result of steady but slight crossing of boundaries - his record was eleven times in one day (at least, his record for when you were conscious) when he was feeling particularly affectionate, although you’d definitely soured up by the end.

The…fantasies he’d had of domesticity…they were just that, weren’t they? Fantasies, mere ideas that were appealing enough to fully flesh out in his mind. Whatever actions you’ve taken, whether it be pecks to the cheek or folding his shirts, staining them with the scent of you, they’ve all been a means to an end. That certainly wasn’t part of the fantasy. 

You’ve been buttering him up like the thick slices of white bread next to his bowl. What a betrayal.

Tonight’s stew is spicy and chunky, served courteously by you. His palate is experienced from an adulthood of travel, wealth, and nights spent with gullible women who couldn’t tell the difference between a Prince Charming and a swindler. Truly, there is little he hasn’t at least tried. Including this.

So, if there’s no other signs of you wanting to leave the comfort of the apartment and the familiarity of his presence, then what could’ve possibly cued him into your motives?

It’s something tenuous, something that could’ve gone unnoticed to anyone else. It’s something subtle, buried under layers of rosemary and thyme and paprika. But diphenhydramine is such an acquired taste. And it’s one that’s made the past few weeks and months crumble to dust.

Oh, you sweet thing.

Acting as oblivious as ever, he spoons chunks of zucchini and carrot onto the bread, taking large bites, chewing and swallowing with purpose, the taste of the sedative lingering. He considers smacking his lips for good measure, to play around with you a bit, but eventually decides against it. That’ll come later.

You sit across from him, silence between you two. Normally, he’d fill it with tales from his busy day - but you’ve been so good lately, that he’s begun to refrain from doing that. Nowadays, he asks you what you’ve been up to, every painstaking detail from your dull days without him. But that’s only if you’ve been good, or at least if he’s under the impression that you’ve been good. As it turns out, you haven’t been good, you aren’t being compliant, and now he simply waits.

You stare into your bowl of stew, but he can tell you’re watching him in your periphery. It’s so very fascinating, the way you absorb each mouthful he takes, washed down with frequent sips of water (there’s no other substances in that, obviously). He takes another swill of the liquid, tilting his head slightly back, and in the corner of his eye, he can see the way you observe his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp. Does it appease you, the sight? Does it intrigue you? Does it make you, even for a moment, reconsider what you’re about to do?

Chrollo pauses for a moment, before placing the half-empty glass back onto its coaster. He knows the smirk that comes onto his face is nothing short of wicked, but he truly can’t help himself. 

“Are you not hungry, my love? You’ve barely touched your food.”

Barely is an understatement. You haven’t touched it at all, in fact. Stupid, really. He knows that you know that he’s observant - but that information is irrelevant in this situation, considering it doesn’t take an keen eye to figure out your pattern of stirring your spoon around, picking up some carrot - even blowing on it for good measure - and nodding along with what few words he spoke initially, before giving an mhm! of agreement and letting it drop back into the bowl. You spend extensive amounts of time apparently fishing for just the right piece of zucchini, sorting through copious amounts of lentils (and seemingly taking the time to individually count them all), dragging chunks up the side of your bowl only to push them back down into the fray of assorted vegetables.

There’s almost a sort of jump in response to the words, ringing clear and well projected. But it’s contained above the shoulders - your head snaps to look at him, your eyes widening momentarily, staring into his own, trapped.

He can feel the shaky breath you take to steady yourself from over here, air stagnant and mouth dry.

“No,” you reply, “not particularly.”

He cocks an eyebrow at that, mouthing an oh before returning to his meal. It doesn’t matter whether you take the bait or not, his suspicions have long since been confirmed. Confirmed, in the sternest sense of the word, syllables enunciated with force, the knowledge of your true intentions well recognised. Whether that displays on his face or within his interactions with you is inconsequential to the known ending of your silly stunt.

The sound of you chewing is enough to bring his attention back out of the bowl. That’s not fake.

So you’re eating it too? It’s certainly a bold move, but one he wouldn’t dare put past you anymore. You were always a clever one, one to be placed a mere few tiers below his own intellect.

He hasn’t caught you swapping the bowl out for a fresh one. Maybe you’ve mastered the art so quickly that even he can’t notice?

No, not likely. Not in just a few months. That’d be impossible.

Your bites of pumpkin are preceded with the slightest hesitation, a quick breath to presumably psych yourself up to the self-sabotage. He hates to see you so scared when you’re properly sharing a meal with him like this, deciding to return to normalcy as a reward for your cooperation.

“Tell me, darling, what did you get up to today?”

Your eyes flick to his, momentarily ensnared in the grey, before looking up at the ceiling to aid in the process of giving a verbal description of what you read, how you cleaned, how you entertained yourself with rearranging your meagre book collection (not his, that would be asking for trouble). The response is practically identical to every other time he’s asked the question, plain and unindulgent. It’s boring, he thinks, even with the unacknowledged omission of the hours you spend staring at the walls and pacing around the living area. He’s tempted to pry into how you decided on tonight’s dish, but decides against it. Not for lenience or mercy, but rather amusement. To give away what he knows now would simply be a waste of a situation you’ll never attempt to put yourself in again.

If you knew what Chrollo knew, would you still bother to indulge him?

You stare at him for a moment, allowing him to draw things out, before nodding at the I see he gives in response. He gives a forward nod to your bowl, giving you gracious permission to eat again after starving you for the length of your interrogation, merciful as ever. Your fear is better contained behind a split second’s confusion before you register the nonverbal instruction, picking up your spoon once more and eating with more confidence this time, taking exaggerated bites of zucchini that barely make it past your teeth, chewed excessively into grey paste before being swallowed. Maybe you reason that if you chew enough, you can break the drug down into something that won’t knock you out. A cute thought.

The spices stain your lips an enticing red, the chilli making them plump up so deliciously. If he kissed them, would they burn him? Would the capsaicin leave his lips tingling, a reminder of your soft touch?

He likes to think he’ll know the answer soon.

Chrollo feigns sleepiness, furrowing his brows in mock confusion as he tells you that he can’t quite keep his eyes open - perhaps he overdid it at work today. 

Yes, work, as he loves to call it, like there’s the possibility of him spending his time away from you at a desk, punching in numbers on a computer, monotonous and repetitive and damn, couldn’t things just switch up for a day? Work, as in a beer-bellied husband whose idea of experimental fashion is changing which tie he wears with the same white button-up and black dress pants each day. Work, as in an assembly line employee who wakes up at three o’clock to be at the factory by four, ready and willing to make whatever sacrifices necessary to support his loved ones. Work, as in something at least vaguely respectable.

Work, as in literally anything other than stealing and slaughtering and scourging.

Chrollo relishes in the way your shoulders relax a little. It’s almost too adorable. Chrollo also relishes in the way they tense up again when he adds how it’s suspicious really. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt a tiredness such as this.

There’s an underlying anxiety in your pretty, pluckable, ever-so-slightly bloodshot eyes. Where others would be concerned for your health, he finds endearment, you precious thing. After admiring them silently for a moment, he announces that he’ll be off to bed now, darling. Remember to be there for me when I wake.

He leaves you alone in the kitchen to stew in your unease.

____________

Now he’s lying in bed, on the side closest to the door, limp as anything. It doesn’t matter whether his facade convinces you or not, he’ll have you in his arms by morning. The blinds aren’t fully down, leaving a pleasant blue hue that gives him a good visual of most of the room. Your side of the bed is still firmly tucked in from when he made it this morning, after running his hands up and down your arms until you’d given a great shudder and shoved him away - a pitiful attempt that he’d impishly gone along with. 

Anticipation tickles his nose and prods at his heart. Childishly, he wants you to get over with it already, to sprint in, swinging a knife wildly, or cue him to start the chase with a slam of the front door so violent that the hinges threaten to crack. It’s unfortunate how your faux compliance conditioned him to be unable to accept a halt, or even slowing, of progress.

Ah, some solace - he can hear your footsteps come up to the door, attempting, albeit poorly, to be quiet. Or maybe they are quiet, to the average man, but someone well-versed in the art of stealth can practically see the way you tiptoe closer. The faint sounds paint a detailed visualisation of your movements - the balls of your feet lifting from the ground, the flexing of your toes, the dorsiflexion at your ankles, the soft thud of your heels hitting the ground.

The bedroom door creaks open, a thin streak of light hitting his eyelids, making him see an ever-so-slight orange behind them. He might be able to visualise your walk accurately, but the same cannot be said for your face. Are you fearful, lips downturned and eyes wide? Are you determined yet cautious, eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line? Are you smug? Condescending? Grinning from ear-to-ear, excited to finally have what you believe to be freedom?

You’re not, he discerns.

Instead, you huff a sigh, a sweet note that makes his heart jump, a small flutter that could only be instigated by you. It’s a sigh of relief. The door is shut. He expects another door to be slammed, too - the front door, hinges quaking as you sprint to the stairs as far as you can, too scared to wait for the elevator (and for your sake, he hopes you’ve brought a pair of running shoes - you’re on the 35th floor, after all). But that doesn’t happen.

Instead, he can hear the clanking of bowls and dishes, the smooth schwip as you push breadcrumbs off the chopping board into the bin with the back of the serrated-edge knife, and how you place said knife into the block without taking another one out.

So you’ve decided against stabbing him tonight? How agreeable.

In fact there seems to be no malice in the way you’re stacking the bowls, no scraps of extra force in how you shut the fridge. Whilst the sounds of your cleanup are nothing short of a ruckus to his alert ears, there’s an intentional tenderness he can hear. A conscious effort to be as quiet as possible with somebody sleeping peacefully in the next room.

It’s a gesture he’ll interpret in the best way he can. Even if he knows he’s deluding himself that you want to be quiet for his own peace rather than so you can escape, he’ll be sure to bring up the former as reasoning for your actions over the next few days, regardless of how you’ll spit venom at him, hissing that he couldn’t be more wrong.

Next is a movement he didn’t expect in the slightest.

You come back to the bedroom, with a pile of fabric in your hands - clothes, maybe? He thought you’d be off and away as soon as possible, or you wouldn’t get close to him again at the very least, standing patiently by the door until whatever you’re waiting for had occurred. 

The quiet-ish footsteps make their way past him this time, and straight into the ensuite.

There’s the soft sound of clothes falling, and then the tap is turned on.

You’re…showering before you leave?

You really are a good teacher of the quirks of humanity. Logical as ever, he’d most certainly take no time for hygiene practices if it reduced his chances of being able to go on a small, liberating adventure. But perhaps that’s part of the plan? Do you not want to have a speck of dirt on you so you don’t smell bad? Will you hide out at a fancy gala, and have to be as fresh as possible? Are you trying to wash off Nen, perhaps? 

No, that would never work, and he’s certain you know this too. Still, the idea of a little hopeless fire in you, taking a precaution you know is futile, makes his lips twitch.

So many questions, few of them answerable at present. His mind is stimulated so wondrously, for once not finding boredom in the predictability of human behaviour. He’s truly chosen well. 

And then there’s something else, rising above the sound of the rushing water, above the drain gurgling it down, greedily gulping it away.

You’re humming.

It’s relatively random, most likely improvised, and slightly off-tune, but endearing all the same. He can taste the notes, sweet and soothing, running down his throat smoothly and pooling warmth in his belly. 

You heave a sigh, and the tune changes. And then he recognises it.

It’s something he heard as a boy, back in Meteor City. He’d hear it at night, walking back to whatever semblance of a refuge he had with Franklin and Shalnark, past the hamlets of the younger children. Letting himself get lost in it, he can feel himself crawling to shelter on scraped knees, walking on calloused heels, eating stale bread, all accompanied by the faint smell of garbage, a smell that years of exposure had waned to a neutral accompaniment of the setting, rather than an inconvenience or hazard.

Despite the unhygienic nature of it all, it’s sweet. It’s these memories - memories of grime and rot and infection - that are the most pure. The most uncorrupted. They’re full of innocence and hope - just like you.

These qualities make you think you’ll leave him.

Upon remembering this, he’s tempted to barge in and ruin your peace, eager to hear your inevitable yelp and nervous laugh as he quizzes you about tonight’s events. But he doesn’t. Your lullaby is too enjoyable, the tune far too agreeable to stomp out yet. Resisting sin by committing another, he decides he doesn’t want to kill this mockingbird, if only to selfishly continue to hear it sing.

Few moments have come like this since you came to be with him. They’re all short-lived in comparison to the cold life he’s had, a firecracker popping on his tongue, fleetingly filling his mouth with syrupy sweetness before quickly dying off, barely an aftertaste to be savoured. He’s scratched them all down in an old leather journal with a quill and ink, lest he forgets what it feels like, or how to get that feeling again, but thankfully they’re scratched even deeper into his psyche. 

You’d been agreeable enough for a reward of a dinner somewhere several stories up, city lights shining behind you, framing your hair beautifully. You were reluctant at first, turning your nose up at him and the priceless food in front of you, opting for the bottle of red wine instead. It wasn’t supposed to be gulped down with such vulgarity like that, but that was part of your charm and by your second glass you were giggling and halfway through your third you looked at him right in the eye, cheeks tinged pink, and you smiled a smile that you’d forget by morning but he wouldn’t…

He’d returned to the villa after a long day to find the fans blasting, and you slumped over on the couch as credits rolled on the screen in front of you. He’d flicked the TV off, not before noting the rom-com’s name, and regarded you, with your deep, even breaths and singlet strap falling down. He picked you up and carried you to bed, laying you down on the thin blankets, fixing your strap despite the small voice that called to him to take off the thing entirely. Your head rested on the pillow, your face not scowling for once, and you’d huffed the sweetest of sighs…

That’s the kind of moment this is.

There’s no thought of what he’ll be doing with the troupe tomorrow, or in a week, or what move to make next depending on what you decide to do. Every nook and cranny of his mind, every convolution of his brain is filled with the thought of you. Tonight, it’s warm and viscous, slowing time and cutting both of you off from the rest of the world; the rest of its filth.

In this moment, he can see himself in the shower with you. He’s across from you, lathering body wash onto his shoulders, letting the foam run down his back. All the while, he keeps his gaze on you, watching how your hands run over your body, soap running along your sternum, between your breasts, along the curve of your hips, your ass, all whilst you hum that tune… shit, he can’t let himself get hard now. He manages to drag himself out of the daydream, barely, just managing to claw himself to the surface of reality.

Caps are popped open and the lathering of soaps can be heard over the course of your performance, with a finale of the tap being turned off. There’s a fumbling of fabrics before you come out, followed by yet another move he doesn’t expect.

You walk up to the bed, peel the sheets back, and lie down beside him. You then roll onto your side, facing him. After a few moments, you prop yourself up onto your elbow.

A moment of nothing. You’re frozen, as is he. Calm before the storm, he prepares himself to catch your wrist and hear you shriek.

You lean over.

And then there’s a featherlight sensation on his forehead, right in the middle of his tattoo. 

Had it been a split second later, he would’ve opened his eyes and turned to face you with a smirk as you screamed. But it’s not a split second later, it’s now, and now you’re kissing him. There’s no real benefit for doing such a thing that he can identify right now - perhaps you know he’s awake, and would like to make amends? Surely you know that that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him.

The contact sends an electric zap to every corner of his body, although he manages to not make himself jolt. Months of stifled desire bubble up from his insides, desire that’s spent so long smothered by rationale of better outcomes and forcing himself to think of his bloodied obstacles and late nights alone in the shower. As often as his lips find their way to your forehead, unfortunately the reverse doesn’t occur even half as much.

You pull away, like you’re hesitant about what you’ve done, like you’re waiting for him to snap his eyes open and sit up with inhuman speed, ready to pin you down or tie you up or even slap you for tonight’s inconveniences. But that doesn’t make sense, because hesitation is supposed to occur before such an intrepid act, not afterward.

After receiving apparent confirmation that you’re not about to be attacked, he can sense your head slowly but surely coming to rest on your pillow. You shouldn’t strain your neck like that, someone like you could get hurt over time.

The back of his shirt is peeled up, slowly, delicately, and he has to focus to keep his breathing even.

There you lie, staring at the twelve-legged spider etched into his skin, his number a pale contrast to the black ink, practically jumping out at you.

0.

It’s your reminder, he supposes, of what he is. Theoretically and legally nonexistent, practically traceless. Zero evidence. Zero remorse. Zero morality.

Zero.

Then-

One, two, three.

Your lips mark a trail up his spine, at the bottom of the abdomen, right in the middle of the zero, on its head. Don’t shudder.

Once your deed is done, you pull back. There you lie, staring at the twelve-legged spider etched into his skin, so silent that you’re barely breathing.

The fabric of his nightshirt is guided back down. You roll over and proceed to go limp, succumbing to the drugs intended for him.

What was that?

You’re not touching him anymore. He can sense the gap between your bodies, one that he would close every night, pulling you close. 

Was it a relief? To go to sleep without him touching you?

You’d always stirred up such a fuss about his arms being around you as you slept. 

It had always been a cause for seething rage on your part, later argument, later whining, and more recently huffing. Even last night, the stiffness before you fell asleep was a cause of his own discomfort. But you didn’t have to deal with that tonight, and now you’ve fallen asleep in record time. He can’t say it was just from the pills.

Did you change your mind on leaving after you felt their effects? It doesn’t seem likely that you’d ditch all that to sleep. Rather, that you wanted to sleep on your own terms.

He’d spent so much time concerned with stopping a potential escape, that he didn’t stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, that was never the goal to begin with.

And now Chrollo rolls over to face you, gently tugging on your shoulder to pull you onto your back.

You’re serene as ever, a sight to behold. 

He brushes the back of his knuckles along your hair, feeling its texture, so light that his calloused hands - hands that have seen many a bruise and burn and slice and hangnail caught and ripped on the job - almost can’t feel it. Your exhales come out more as huffs and sighs now compared to gentle breathing, and he allows a chuckle (one that he finds incredibly endearing, as much as you’ve let your disagreement to that sentiment be known, preferring to describe it with wounding words such as “condescending” and “grating”) to slip past his lips. 

It reminds him of you when you’re awake, when you used to try so hard to be difficult for him, when you used to scream and scratch as he’d spoon you, grip ironclad, until all you could do was huff and puff and plead with him (and as much as he enjoyed your attempts to compromise, this was something he simply could not relinquish) and eventually, your cursing would die down, your muscles would go limp, and you’d fall asleep. 

Sometimes the sun would be up by the time you relented, and your breaths would be the heaviest then. It was amusing, how quickly you’d switch. One second, you were cussing him and his troupe out, the next, you were a paragon of tranquillity, the visage of an angel before him. He’d pray you love him.

He wants to grab your jaw, hold it firm, and kiss your lips as hard as he can. He wants to tilt his head and take and take and take. He wants to keep taking even if your breathing lightens. He wants to keep taking even if your eyelids flutter open, hazy doe-eyes looking at him with dozy confusion.

Well, he’d never deny his own indulgence.

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to your forehead, just as you did to him.

The touch is as gentle as he can make it, as gentle as he can permit himself to be. There’s a split second of what he could almost call fear, an image of accidentally squeezing you too hard and hearing your bones snap flashing in his mind.

He rubs his thumb over where his lips previously were, feeling an unanticipated wetness left behind.

It’s then that Chrollo realises his mouth is full of his own saliva - whether that was because he was so entranced by your actions that nothing else mattered, body as limp as he could allow, or because, like some sort of filthy animal, he couldn’t help but drool at the contact from you, starved for it like a hyena, he doesn’t know. He swallows. That’s better.

And now for the main event.

He dips down to your lips, and lightly presses his own against them. The feeling is so heavenly, he wonders if you really are an angel. If you were one, would you bless him? Would you destroy him?

If you were to know what he’s doing, would you hate him more?

He pulls away. 

The journey to get here was sizable. Memories of tonight flash by; your cooking, your conversation, your shower. Your humming.

Ah. The tune he heard as a boy. Innocent, naïve, hopeful.

Well, he’s a man now. And far less innocent.

He lets out a hum of his own, deep and rumbling.

Chrollo moves to straddle you, peeling the duvet and sheets back, layer by layer, unveiling the best present he’s ever gifted himself. Just moving into such an intimate position is enough to send pangs of heat downwards, the hardness he fought against earlier returning with an urgency.

For a moment, he tries to fight against it.

Is it to save himself from your hatred? Is it to save you from what he’s planning?

It’s neither, he discerns, as the attempt was doomed to fail before it even started. He knows it was never meant to succeed.

His groin only throbs harder, aching for friction. It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, the way he presses it against your clothed crotch, rocking back and forth, the slight relief just momentary as his desire only grows.

He regards your unsuspecting face. Stunning. 

Restraint is draining faster now, but still is present just enough to stop him from grinding any harder despite the urge. But if he’s to stop his movements, he’ll need a different kind of stimulation.

He bunches your shirt up, pulling, sliding a hand under your back so he can slip it off your arms and neck.

Now your chest is bare. How ravishing.

His fingers hook under the band of your sleep pants, dragging them off in a clean motion.

And now your legs are bare. How alluring.

He doesn’t take your underwear off - that would simply be crude, and he doesn’t need to tempt himself anymore. If he got the privilege (or right, considering your standings) of seeing you fully nude, as opposed to having a single layer covering the most tantalising part of you, he’d be oh-so-inclined to do something regrettable. His logic fights to win space within his buzzing thoughts, fingers daring to twitch as his imagination fills in the gaps of what the thin black layer forces to be left to it.

Chrollo parts your thighs for good measure, the maximum he can allow himself at this moment. It’d be impossible to not let his hands and gaze trail up them, observing how as he roams upwards, your flesh gets softer, warmer; how the flimsy fabric can’t hide all of your darker flesh; how your lower lips are pressing against the cloth, visible despite the darkness…

God, you’re so fuckable.

There’s a pretentious voice in his head, albeit muffled, that cries protests at the use of such a word to describe you. You’re something far more than that - beautiful, exemplary, one-in-a-million, ethereal. Surely your mouth would be better put to use having a fulfilling conversation with him, a conversation he can dissect and steer and puppeteer, as opposed to just opening as wide as it can to accommodate his cock, taking it as deep as your gag reflex will allow, barely able to breathe, much less talk. Although, he thinks with a faint, deep groan, twitching in his pants, that’s certainly a hypothesis I’ll have to test.

With the sight of your breasts, nipples hard and skin goosebumped from the chill of the room, it’s decided. Just because making his cheeks warm and his cock rock hard isn’t your most prominent trait, doesn’t mean that you aren’t absolutely exceptional at it.

Temptation isn’t something he’s inclined to resist, brushing a thumb over your nipples before leaning down to take one into his mouth. He swears he can hear your breath hitch as his tongue swirls around, breathing getting slightly lighter. An eager hand reaches for the other one, kneading as gently as he thinks he can.

Soft is the first thing he thinks. Your flesh is so soft, so delicate, so tender. If you were awake, he’d vocalise his compliments - and do so loudly, unrestrained.

Your breathing changes as he points his tongue to lightly flick at your nipple repeatedly. Chances are you’re being taken out of REM sleep, but your consciousness doesn’t matter at this stage. And some part of him hopes for it, brief images flashing in his mind of barely-open teary eyes slowly rolling to the back of your head. They’re obscene, so utterly immoral to even fantasise about, yet even the split-second thought makes his stomach jump, shivering a bit as he feels himself be almost overcome by them.

He can’t help but slightly wet his lips in anticipation, relishing in the knowledge that his instincts are being held back with the slightest thread. If he moves even slightly faster than his rational, calculating, non-carnal mind intends, then it’ll snap. He’ll snap.

Almost trembling, he reaches across to his bedside table. The movements are imprecise, but he’s sure this practice will allow him to execute them with much more grace for the inevitable time you’ll be awake. Yes, you’ll be awake and whining and he’ll wet his lips in anticipation and be met with your lingering taste and you’ll want him as much as he wants you- 

He almost falls forward as his own lust threatens to overtake him. Focus on the necessary steps.

Taking a shuddering breath, he leans down to pull open the drawer, to find a bottle hidden at the back, purposefully concealed behind an upright copy of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Quickly shifting his weight back, he pops the cap open, spreading some of the slick contents onto his fingertips. With his free hand, he pulls down the loose elastic of his pyjama pants, shucking them off, the cold air making him quiver slightly.

Time’s running out.

The movements are trembling, sloppy as he pours lube onto his length, and then onto your spread thighs. There’s a frantic inertia of sorts, a mad momentum - the more he does, the faster he has to go, the anticipation making his stomach swell and dip. He’s really going to do this. It’s really going to happen, and it’ll be amazing.

There. Done. Everything’s ready.

Chrollo takes a shaky breath, gripping just above your knees, and squeezes your thighs around his dick.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Your thighs are warm from the duvet, perfectly cosy and wet from the lube for his cock.

Little time is wasted as he begins to thrust his hips, trying not to give himself too much too soon. The steady pace is slowly increased, little by little, a fragile incline so he can drag this out for as long as possible. 

Can you feel it? Can you feel the warmth radiating from him? Is there some part of your mind that’s awake, but can’t do anything to stop him? Or better yet, is eager to please him?

He strains out a hiss through gritted teeth, peppering kisses over your exposed neck, trying his best not to bite. The pace increases yet again. His eyes are fixated on the mound in your underwear, a more sinister form of curiosity burning within. 

What does your pussy look like?

He won’t use En, that’s just cheating. He wonders and ponders and conjures up the most filthy images his mind can muster. A warm, tight hole that clenches for him as he slips in and out, teasing you. A pretty clit for him to tease with his fingers as you whine, for him to suckle on as you choke on sobs of pleasure. Folds for him to run his tongue through as you rut your hips against his face; for him to run his tip along, collecting your slick.

He imagines how his cock would look disappearing inside of your cunt, how your grip would be so suffocating, how your tits would bounce as he fucks it (because shit, they’re already moving so vigorously now, as he holds his strength, and he can’t even begin to picture what they’d look like if he loses control buried deep inside you, repeatedly stuffing you to the hilt as you cry out). He imagines how you’d tighten around him, babbling something incoherent as you wrap your arms and legs around him, and oh fuck, he can’t pull out now. He imagines the tension snapping, giving a rumbling groan as he shoves himself into you as deeply as possible, eyes screwing shut and burying his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder, riding out his high with a few shallow thrusts.

And finally, he imagines how his cum would look leaking out of your pussy, twitching and swollen from a nice good fuck. The afterglow. The squeak you’d give if he fingered it back into you, growling at you to not waste a drop, keep it all inside for me.

The thought makes his hips stutter a little, threatening to slip out of the plushness between your thighs. Once he regains his rhythm, though, they’re speeding up, relentlessly fucking himself into your thighs over and over, kneading the flesh as he squeezes them tighter and closer.

Chrollo cups your face with a single hand, and leans in. 

It’s the second time he’s properly kissed you tonight, and it feels fucking amazing. Your soft lips, your soft thighs, they’re all working together to make his head swim in bliss. You’re working to make him feel good. Yes, him. Nobody else. You’re his.

The thoughts run wild. He has as little control over them as he does his hips.

How would it feel to fuck you in some other position? How would it feel to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your hips back to meet his, as he stuffs himself into your sopping cunt over and over, watching your ass bounce? How would you cry out at the way his balls slap against your swollen clit, building up the pressure inside you until you just can’t take any more?

How would you grind on top of him? How would you moan as you bounce, tilting your head back as you stretch yourself on his length, panting? How many times could you do it until your legs trembled uncontrollably, forcing yourself to impale yourself on his cock just one more time? When he’d plant his feet on the bed firmly and thrust his hips up, grabbing yours and bouncing you in time, would you wail, or simply slump over, completely unable to form a thought as you cum around him for the nth time?

You’re flexible enough to fold into a mating press, right? How deep could he go? How fast could he go? How would your beautiful skin look covered in love bites?

The coil of pressure within him grows even tighter even faster, balls slapping against your thighs, hips pistoning rhythmlessly.

If he asked, oh-so-nicely, for you to get on your knees and please him with your mouth, would you oh-so-sweetly do it? Would you suckle his swollen tip? Would you tease him with a glint of mischief in your eyes? Would you find his most sensitive spots and exploit them? Would you trace your tongue along the veins? Would you massage his balls? Would you let him control the pace, a hand intertwined in your hair? Would you look up at him as you tear up, doe-eyes wide and eager to please? Would you rub your pretty pussy while he shoots thick ropes of cum down your throat, pressing your nose against his pelvis?

Yes, he decides as the coil begins to snap, you would.

Chrollo comes to a sudden halt, choking out a rich groan in a low timbre. The noise becomes more strained as he rides out the high, the overwhelming euphoria becoming just a bit too intense as it begins to morph into overstimulation. Once he’s sure the moment’s over, he lets go of your legs, pulling back to catch his breath and admire his work.

Ropes of cum paint your chest, some making it as far as your neck, your chin. It’s beautiful, the unruly mess he’s made - no, the mess you’ve made of him.

You’re a real beauty, you know that?

The bathroom tiles are cold against his feet as he grabs a washcloth to clean you up. It’s sad to see it go, to a primal extent, but it’s probably for the best to ensure he doesn’t get any ideas for a second round tonight.

For future nights, though? The chest he’s covering up will soon be exposed soon enough.

He’ll have to get more sleeping pills. You simply must try this again soon. 

Next time, he’ll taste you. The time after that, you’ll taste him. He can hardly wait, nor can he stop the dull throbbing starting up in his groin again.

He sates himself for the time being with the knowledge that the time after that, you’ll be awake.

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucifer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere hxh #hxh #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #tw yandere

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 23

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 22, Part 24

Warning! This is a SAGAU imposter au so this is pretty gory and not happy all the time. Plus yandere but that's the expected for SAGAU.

Xingqiu and Chongyun both showed muddled emotions at your words of leaving Liyue.

“That may be best for you…” Chongyun says first as he keeps his gaze on the floorboards.

“Yes, I agree. Although I never expected that you would have to leave Liyue so soon, it's clear that you aren't safe here.” 

Xingqiu’s words that were full of understanding still had disappointment sprinkled in.

“We can't do much to help you when it comes to Ningguang, but Mondstadt is a different story. Do you have the talisman on you right now?”

Chongyun takes a few steps closer as you lift the amulet for him to see. He rubs one finger on it, examining the symbol that appears at the action.

“It's still at full charge, good. The road to Mondstadt can either be empty or full of demons depending on the day. But once you get to Wangshu Inn, it becomes much safer.”

“Because of Xiao, right? Despite how the situation looked when I first met the Adepti, I'm on relatively good terms with them now.”

It was a bit risky telling them this, but they both deserved to know at this point.

“When are you planning on leaving? Is your meeting with Ningguang today?” Switching the topic, Xingqiu brings the focus back to the most pressing issue.

Nodding, you answer. “My meeting is with her today, but I'll probably have to leave either at midnight or early tomorrow morning. The sooner, the better.”

“Then I can offer you some help that should make staying in Mondstadt a bit easier.” Xingqiu grins as he takes out paper and some ink. “I happen to know someone-”

“Albedo, right?” Cutting off Xingqiu as you think back to his connection, you continue. “Together you made the book, uh what was the name again? A Legend of a Sword? It got pretty popular in Inazuma. I remember there was a whole festival on light novels that you both attended too.”

Once you stop, you notice Xingqiu squinting his eyes at you before replying. “That's really creepy, you know? If I didn't know you were the Oracle, then I would have believed you to be some stalker.”

“If I was, then I wouldn't be stalking you of all people.” You snapped back as he grins while shaking his head.

“But yes, I'll send Albedo a letter in advance so that he can arrange for you to be settled nicely over there. I won't mention the Oracle situation as the Creator didn't want you to be known widely like that.”

It's been so long since you last heard the title ‘Creator’ be mentioned despite the fact that all of your problems come from their supposed existence.

Only goes to show just how ingrained the Creator is in this world.

“Thanks Xingqiu. Albedo is the chief alchemist and well respected among the community, so I should be in safe hands.”

Xingqiu merely hums in response as Chongyun tugs the amulet closer to him.

“Just trying to apply a better talisman on it.” He mumbles in accordance with your stare as he settles himself closer to you.

He's basically pressed against your side, but you strangely don't feel uncomfortable to have him close.

As the pair focus on their own activities, your mind wanders off to Albedo.

Albedo, the chief alchemist and homunculus created by Gold, the famous Khaenri'an scientist. Khaenri'ah, which also held so much information that could be connected to Celestia…

It was a long shot, but you could try digging for information about Celestia from him. The deal that Celestia made with Teyvat still bothers you to no end. With the age of this deal unknown, you might even have to look into the primordial dragons if it's even older than the Archon war.

A light shining brought you back to the present and your eyes flickered down to where the amulet shined in Chongyun’s hands.

Once it died down to reveal a more intricate symbol than before, Chongyun nodded, satisfied with the final product.

“This one is a lot stronger and should last longer now. I know you can fight well, but the demonic energy in Bishui Plain and Qiongji Estuary has shown to rise around this time of the year.”

Carefully taking the amulet from him, you thumbed the symbol with curious eyes. “I get it, thank you. Does it activate on its own, or do I have to activate it with something?”

“It'll work on its own. Depending on the amount and degree of demonic energy around it, the workings will change.”

Motioning with his hands, Chongyun’s calm voice explains the working to you. At the end of the rather lengthy explanation, you nod and condense the information in your mind.

“And now that Instructor Chongyun is done teaching you, I'm happy to say that I'm done with the letter. Have been for a while, but I saw no need to interrupt the oh so fascinating lecture.”

Raising the letter, Xingqiu lazily waved it as Chongyun bristled but ultimately said nothing.

“I can send this once I get home. Unfortunately, neither me nor Chongyun will be available to accompany you through your journey.”

Xingqiu tsk’d at his own words while Chongyun turned his head away, visibly sulking.

“My family was just hired to check out Wuwang Hill and my attendance for this is mandatory. Xingqiu’s father is forcing him to stay and attend meetings with his brother for the week as well.”

All you could do was smile sadly in response.

Before long they were both forced to leave by Baizhu who insisted on total privacy for the reviewing of your medication and discharge.

Watching them climb down the stairs from the window in your room, you listen absentmindedly to Baizhu.

Changsheng still refused to see you. Something Tevyat was clearly displeased with, as the once sunny weather quickly turned cloudy. The cold-blooded creature must be huffing in annoyance by now.

“And this is the overview of medication and supplements to take, with the doses and dates to take them.”

Casually looking over the paper received from the shady snake bastard, you hummed for a moment before stuffing it into your bag.

“All of it is paid for by your special benefactor. And the drug you requested has already been paid with by your body, as we both know.”

‘Must he phrase it like that?’ You internally questioned as you snatch the medication and shove it into your bag.

“I'm glad for it. Maybe even more so if she didn't pin so many babysitters onto me.”

At your grumble, Baizhu’s smile wavered at the edges. Either he truly hadn't known why there was extra ‘security’ or he was a great liar. You suspect it's a bit of both.

“Then if everything has been covered, I’m happy to say that you're officially discharged as of-” He merely glanced at the sun still high in the sky before finishing. “1300. I sincerely hope that the next time we meet you'll be in a better physical state.”

“And I sincerely wish we never have to meet again.” The words you utter are full of sarcasm, something Baizhu simply chuckles at.

“Now what could I have possibly done to deserve your ire, dear Oracle?”

“It's what you haven't done. A little heads up about all the guards would have been nice.”

“Oh, but I did!” His smile seems a little sharper as he leans toward you, his glasses sliding down to the bridge of his nose. “Didn't I let you know early on that there were quite a lot of guards?”

With an annoyed scoff, you snap back. “You said it was due to the two temples nearby, not cause Ningguang wanted to keep an eye on me.”

Raising his hands with wide eyes, Baizhu tried to placate you. “I'm not part of the Millelith, how on earth could a physician like me know the true reasoning?”

Holding his gaze, you tried to discern what he was truly thinking at this moment. Malice? Amusement? Mocking kindness?

But at that moment, all you could see was genuine surprise in his eyes. It only served to confuse you further.

Was Baizhu truly innocent in this? Your instincts in situations like these were usually correct. Besides, what would Baizhu even gain from deceiving you?

Still, that didn't explain why Baizhu was always so damn shady, but maybe you should chalk it up to an unfortunate side effect of being contracted with a snake.

“Well, then let me reiterate my earlier words. While I still hope we won't have to meet again. I do wish for us to want to meet again.”

Baizhu lowers his arms while fixing his glasses to laugh, the sound is surprisingly tender. “And how do you expect me to tell when that would be? I’m no mind reader.”

Standing up, you stay silent as you slip your bag over your shoulders and move past him. The door opens with a creak as you tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes.

“To put it simply, I’ll want to see you when you discover whatever is hidden in my culture sample.”

The door clicks shut as you leave Bubu’s Pharmacy for good.

----------------------------

After a brief but firm pat to Qiqi’s head, you walk down the stairs casually. The slight rustling of the leaves, the fabric of curtains drawn, and the quieting of chatter are all brought to your attention.

Ningguang’s spies and the Millelith guards are all watching you like rabid dogs, waiting for you to slip up and give them an excuse to arrest you right now. 

Smiling without hesitation, you get to the last step and pretend that the forced conversations around you aren't scripted, and that the eyes locked on you are of a curious bystander and not the ones of detectives.

Bringing your attention back to the list you have clenched in your hand, you read the first errand on the list.

Return books to library.

Easy enough, and it's even easier when people seem to automatically avoid being in your path.

Is this what a day in Xinyan's life feels like? It's honestly not that bad.

At least you thought so until you got to the counter and waited for the receptionist to return.

Five minutes pass. Then ten minutes, which quickly turn into fifteen in a blink of an eye. You can feel your mood worsening.

Deciding to test something, you walk away from the library and turn the corner. Peeking around the corner, you watch as the ‘customer’ that was standing in the corner all those minutes gets to the counter. Almost immediately, a swarm of people return to it.

Sighing heavily, you ignore the weight of suspicious stares and turn the corner back into the library. Getting back into line feels humiliating, but it's just a quick errand, you tell yourself.

No one moves out of the way, but the quick glances they send you make them pale with each minute.

Not a soul dares to stand behind you.

It's finally your turn, and you place your books on the table with the last bit of patience you had. She doesn't meet your eyes and mumbles something.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” Leaning closer, you try to catch her words, only for her to yell.

“It's lunchtime now so I can't accept any more returns or purchases. H-Have a good-d da-ay!”

Flabbergasted at the sheer audacity, you watch her flip a sign on the table and flee the area.

“Fuck this shit.” Colorful curses leave you as you drop all the books haphazardly on the table and storm away.

Crossing it off the list, you follow the main path to the next errand.

Collect reward from Guild

That commission should have given you one hell of a paycheck the last time you checked. Primogems may be worthless now, but you could use the Mora the commission provides.

Plus, you needed to let them know to change it to the Mondstadt region.

Lost in thought of all the technicalities and paperwork you would have to fill out, you weren't focusing on the fleeting whispers around you.

“Is that them?”

“Who else could it be?”

“What a monster…”

“-as long as we get paid.”

“Who cares about-”

“It's me or them.”

“As long as it's them and not me.”

Your experience at the guild was a much kinder one. Katheryne was the epitome of professionalism, just as you remembered her to be. Not that you expected much else from a robot.

After handing all the written work to her, you finally noticed the absence of a certain person.

“Where’s that grouchy Lan? She's usually here, isn't she?” Checking the vicinity, you try to spot the brown recognizable bob.

“The Branch Master Lan is currently undertaking a commission at this time.”

“About the unseen razor, right?”

“That can not be disclosed to unauthorized-”

“It's fine. I’ll see you later, Katheryne.” Turning around, you leave without another thought. Lan wasn't anywhere near the ‘threatening’ list you've created since you last saw her.

Pick up plushie

Crossing out the previous task, you look at the present one with mixed emotions. On one hand, you were happy to get a chance to see something related to Earth, to your world. But at the same time, you couldn't help but wonder if it would serve more as a distraction than anything else. The memories it brought up never failed to leave your heart troubled…

Remembering the money you spent commissioning it ultimately tipped the scales, and so you dragged your feet to the little old lady’s toy shop.

It was empty just as the first time you were there as she hummed. If she was a vision holder you'd guess Hydro judging by the tranquility she radiated.

Her eyes meet yours and a happy smile slips onto your face without much thought.

“Here to pick up the toy, dearie?”

“Yup.” Popping the ‘p’, you watched as she gathered a delicately wrapped box from under the other boxes and presented it to you.

“Enjoy the nostalgic memories a toy can bring.”

You politely thank her before taking the present and walking away. The weight of the box is heavy with dread, and you can only find solace in the fact she didn't refer to it as ‘happy’ memories.

Once sufficiently out of sight, you take to grasping the lid. But you couldn't bring yourself to remove it.

Too many memories. All of them are rushing in and filled with conflicting feelings that would surely crush you. The fear and selfishness of the broken promises and unfulfilled desires would throw you off your game.

With a little too much enthusiasm, you stuff the box of the cat plushie into your bag.

Most likely to stay forgotten and distant from the present you're facing.

Scratching it off harder than the rest, you get to the last errand.

Refill supplies

A smart and mature move considering how you used the whole Medkit during the chase. The soggy bandages and washed away ointment really hurt your heart and wallet.

Revisiting the same shops you went to the first time proved to be ineffective. Either they were completely sold out or no longer supplying them.

Forced to visit more stores, you had to walk around the city a lot more than you cared to. Each store had one of the two situations, and the skittish actions of everyone around you were just the cherry on top.

At one point you even tried to buy the individual items separately, and even that failed.

It's not like you could just wait till next week for the first shipment. You weren't even sure you would live till then.

Eventually, you found yourself sulking on the lower docks, turning the situation around in your head.

If only you lived in Liyue for a little longer, maybe you could have found some of the hidden shops. Befriend a store owner and get a hidden one.

Just who the hell would even go out of their way to get every medical first aid part when it's such a crucial item for so many people in this era?

A name finally comes to mind and your expression sours at the thought. Not that you’d let it show, Celestia knows how many guards are watching you at this moment-

A sudden, rapid series of taps on your shoulder has you spinning around in surprise.

A young boy stands before you. The clothes he wears has visible wear and tear as the fabric frays from the edges. Yet you can't help but think you might have seen him before.

Placing a finger on his lips, he uses his other hand to grab hold of your elbow and tug you along.

Surprised but not suspicious of the kid, you let him lead you deeper into the docks. The dark red of his eyes seem to glow within the shadows as his dirty blond hair acts as your beacon of light.

The smell of fresh fish turns rotten, and the dirt caked under his fingernails stains your clothes. The complete and straight planks become jagged and creaky as you follow him farther.

But you stayed silent.

You recognized a path to the seedy part of the city when you see it.

Instead, you examine the younger boy with a critical eye and finally connect the dots. He must be one of the kids you saved with Yiran.

A smirk creeps up your face. It seems you managed to use your time wisely in making connections after all.

Following along the twists and turns, you don't worry too much about the Millelith. Most of the guards probably couldn't even get this far. If you had to guess, it would only be the detectives who could keep up.

It's not like the hidden underworld of cities as popular as Liyue Harbor are any big secret to them.

Stalls and various shops fill the area as flickering lanterns and other extra lighting give you a wider view.

Multiple people call out to the boy as he silently waves to them. The gaze of the homeless and shady people around aren't warm, but aren't hostile either.

Not that you were exactly expecting a warm welcome, but at least you didn't have to worry about sudden personality changes.

Money could buy you information, but it wouldn't buy you trust in these parts.

He finally stops at a little nook in the corner of the area. The door is worn down with scratches and marks yet the light you can see under it is warm.

Silent as before, he points at you, then to the rows of shops in a sweeping motion before stopping at the door.

Pinching your brows in slight confusion, you chew on the gestures to understand it. High-pitched laughter that suspiciously sounds like children eases into your ears as the boy squirms in place.

“Did you want me to knock on the door when I'm done shopping? That you'll lead me back to the surface?”

It was the only thing that you can think of. And despite your hesitation, the boy nods, clearly relieved that you understood the message.

He must truly be mute, no doubt from whatever horrors he must have faced that lead to the scars poorly hidden by mud on his arms.

You were thankful either way. Just leading you here was great but getting an exit too was even better. Now you could avoid getting mugged and/or murdered on your way back.

“Thanks man, I'll be quick.” With that, you walk away, already following the invisible path to the shops that caught your eye.

As much as you would have liked to explore the various items and weapons they had, you didn't want to keep the kid waiting.

After having to buy a rather expensive medical kit, a minor downside to finding the first medical anything since you left Bubu’s pharmacy, you pick up a minor stitching case.

You could have really used one during your latest and probably not last chase. Stuffing it into your bag, as people eye the magical item with desire, you quickly find the home.

Getting to the door, you step closer than before and take note of the older voice. A woman that's chuckling, and a lingering sense of guilt invades your mind.

Quickly rapping your knuckles on the wood, you step away as the home goes dead quiet.

Multiple little eyes peer at you from windows below you as you lazily grin and wave. They all scatter as giggling resumes and the sound of playing returns.

But not the woman’s voice. You didn't expect it to. It's hard to face the only person you've poured your raw wounds from a child's death to.

The kid finally steps out with multiple clicks of locks echoing around the small space. Smiling, you take no offense to the action. You weren't here for trust, and they weren't helping you out of it either.

His crimson eyes glisten with interest at your bag. He wants his pay, and you're more than happy to oblige.

Stuffing your hand into the bag, you feel the familiar clink of Mora gathering in your hand. Pulling it out, you place an appropriate amount into the pouch he already has prepared.

When you drop it all, he takes it closer to him and picks up a piece. The first thing he does is try to bite it, and the familiar memory of you testing coins the same way makes you smile sadly.

Counting the Mora, he frowns, clearly displeased with the amount. He holds his hand out, and you can feel the other children’s stares digging into you.

“I'm going to give you two things that aren't Mora, okay? But you have to keep it a secret.”

He narrows his eyes, no doubt suspecting you of being a shady person. That's probably why he brought you here first and demanded payment before returning you.

Like this, he has back up and cornered you further into payment of his choosing.

“Do you have a cooking pot?”

He frowns in confusion before nodding slowly. Lifting one finger in a pause motion, before heading back inside his home.

He returns while holding a clean cooking pot. It doesn’t take long before he places it over the open fire you already started.

Small eyes follow your every step as you dig out ingredients from your bag. Mentally going over the ingredients you had originally prepared for your celebration feast if you survived tonight, you drop them into the pot.

4 ham, 3 crabs, 3 shrimp meat, and 3 matsutake potatoes are dropped in.

Turning around, you count to five as the boy gives you a confused stare. But you only wink at him before turning around to look at the pot, as his eyes widen at the sight.

Adeptus’ Temptation sits innocently in the pot as the rich aroma wafts around the area, drawing curious hungry eyes.

Leaning down, you whisper to the boy.

“Get your friends and bring the pot back into your house quickly. This food is blessed and safe as you watched the whole process. I suggest you let the sickly and injured children eat first.”

He looks between you and the pot with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he can't trust you too much, but even the smell of the food was clearly tempting him.

It's the shuffling of feet getting closer that makes him bang on the door, signalling for the other children to come out and help him bring it inside.

By the time the shabby adults come into view, it's just you and the boy ‘talking’ as they grumble and turn around.

The kid still looks displeased. You don't blame him completely, since how can he trust that the food you cook isn't spiked with anything nefarious.

You're not even sure if it can heal people that aren't acolytes. It doesn't work on you after all.

At least they'll all enjoy a hot meal, even if it doesn't work.

Sighing, you take out your last resort from your bag, sadly selecting it and pulling it out. The secret weapon you've been saving since your time in Inazuma.

The colorful assortment of candy wrappers makes the kid’s eyes sparkle with the childlike glee that was absent since you met him. Probably long before you met him.

“It's not just Liyue candy, some are even from Inazuma.” The thought of giving up your hard-earned candy hurt you, but you let it go. 

The candy you squirreled away during the Inazuma festival, and the discount ones you bought at cheap prices at Liyue’s markets, were both never going to be eaten anyway.

His hands reach out to snatch the candy greedily from you but you raise it out of reach at the last second. He stomps his foot in childish indignation as you chuckle.

“Sorry, but I need you to bring me back to the outside before you scam me out of any more goodies.”

Finally giving up, he grabs your elbow again and leads you back through the streets. You enjoy the sights as he leads you zigzagging through the stalls.

You can't help but wonder if any detectives are still watching your boring little interactions. Admittedly, you played into the kid's desires more then you had to.

But you couldn't stop yourself from doing so when all you could see in him was yourself when you were that height.

The sun comes into light as the dim lanterns fade away. Like this, you can see his features once more as the stomping of soldiers return.

His eyes scan the area at the sound, but he keeps his hands open for the sweet treats. Smiling, you drop the candy into his open palms before he rushes off with a beaming boyish grin.

Stretching as you walk up the planks to the surface, you finally cross off the last item and drop it into the nearby trash can.

You try to ignore how it disappears when you turn the corner.

------------------------------------

Time ticks down slowly, and you aren't looking forward to seeing Madam Ping just yet. Besides, you made a long-overdue promise to someone else beforehand.

Starting up at the somewhat hidden Funeral Parlor, you push the door open with a casual; “Hey, I'm here to meet up with the Director of this fine and totally not macabre establishment.”

The receptionist blinks at your sudden words before a cheery voice responds from behind her.

“You sure took your time, Y/N. I almost wondered if you up and died before I got a chance to have you purchase one of our very convenient and practical deals!”

Yet again, Hu Tao was right on the money about you being close to death. Idly, you wonder if you look half as dead as you feel.

The receptionist is more than happy to slip away as her boss bounds up to you with that elemental ghost hovering around her.

Flower pupils stare into your eyes, giving you a vague sense of unease as Hu Tao examines you from various angles. 

“Yup, yup! Just as I suspected. You are in desperate need of escape, and it seems the only way you'll be getting it is in death. My honest suggestion is that you buy a coffin from us and lead a hedonist lifestyle to enjoy the few years you have left.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” You dryly respond as she nods approvingly. 

“A business needs to be honest for it to succeed in the long-term. Trust of the customers is one of the biggest key factors.”

Not willing to argue on a topic you were admittedly clueless on, you follow her deeper into the Parlor.

“Then you got any good deals for a traveling adventurer like me who could be dead halfway across the world?”

She sighs, exaggerating it to the utmost while circling you. “I thought deeply on the topic and while the Wangshsng Funeral Parlor has grown enough to reach all of Liyue and a good amount of Mondstadt and Sumeru, we still haven't grown enough to pair up with each region.”

Passing by multiple doors, your eyes scan for a clue on where she was leading you.

“But considering you're the most eager customer I've had concerning their own death, I decided to present you with a special deal.”

“Wouldn't suicidal people also be enthusiastic in this topic?”

“They're usually more focused on the moment and their own afterlife, instead of the corpse they leave behind. Besides-!”

Whipping around to look at you with a knowing grin, she lays a hand decorated in rings on the handle.

“You aren't that far from being called a suicidal person yourself, Y/N!”

Before you can question her on those words, she swings the door open to show multiple rows of various coffins.

“The special offer I'm giving you is to purchase a coffin and I will personally escort your wandering soul to the border for proper peace.”

Tearing your eyes from the admittedly impressive collection of varying caskets, you have the sense to ask her a question. “So, what's the point in me buying a coffin if my body ends up in the waters of Fontaine? And how could I even trust that you have the ability to escort souls?”

From what you remember, Hu Tao should have no clue about your oracle status, so logically you should act oblivious to her connection with the border. Would you even be able to cross the border? It’s not like you were born on Teyvat like her other customers.

Unless Zhongli told her, but that would require more of an explanation on his behalf that he wouldn't want to do. 

“Very good question, dear customer!” She spins around to face you once more, her long twin tails swinging during the motion.

“Even if your body is irretrievable for whatever reason, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor will deem your casket full after I guide your soul.”

The atmosphere visibly shifts after she speaks. The room darkens as the lanterns flicker, her back lowers in a familiar position as a cold phantom touch caresses your hand.

“You of all people should know why and how I'm able to guide souls. After all, I wouldn't expect anything less from an Oracle of the Creator.”

A crooked grin makes its way to your face as goosebumps raise on your skin. Hu Tao’s ‘threatening’ words of knowing your identity were like the sweetest song to your ears.

Finally, all your hard work in creating connections and stabilizing your identity has paid off. Acolytes you've barely begun conversing with already see you as an Oracle.

“Should I applaud you or something, Director? Or should I just accept the deal and make us both happy?”

Hu Tao laughs at your words as you take confident strides to stand by her side.

“I would appreciate the second option much more!” Signature flower pupils drink your smiling visage in with delight before her hand grasps yours in a tight hold.

“Now, if you will, I'll introduce all these amazing coffin and casket types for you to ask about and choose between.”

There's no time to protest, not that you would as she pulls you along excitedly as butterflies made of Pyro brush against your cheek.

------------------------------

Somehow you and Hu Tao had managed to look at every single coffin type in existence. A style, color and even additional design to it has already been decided.

You're just left with choosing the best wood for it.

Hu Tao wanted to stay with you throughout the whole process, but an important matter came up again, making her complain loudly as she left.

But before she did, she insisted on sending one of her employees to help you in choosing, as ‘the wood is a vital part of the process!’. 

So now you're left waiting in the absolutely quiet room, with only the sound of your own breathing accompanying you.

Looking down at the two coffins made of different wood, you waited for this employee. A small smirk played on your lips as you heard the door audibly click shut.

The thumping of shoes coming closer was silent, but the slight hitch of breath gave away how close your new consultant was.

“White cedar wood and Teck wood are both very fine choices. Though I would consider the Catalpa wood two rows down to be the best choices considering your position.”

Hot air fans your skin as the knowledgeable words spoken in that low timber light your nerves aflame.

Turning around, you look into amber eyes that remain steadfast on your face. His outfit is pristine and there's not a single evidence of the battle he was left to fight on him.

“If that answers your last question for the coffin customization, then would you mind stepping outside with me?”

Waving your hand, you dismiss his words without hesitation. “We can do so after I check out the Catalpa wood you recommended.”

Your head angles to the side to look at him with a teasing grin. “I know it's your retirement, but you of all people should know that rushing a job is never good.”

A long-suffering sigh leaves Zhongli as you walk away to the Catalpa coffin, before he follows you. 

More than happy to kill time like this, you feel the wood under your fingertips in a smooth stripe.

“Catalpa wood was and is still often used as an outer coffin for the jade inner coffin that Liyue officials were buried in. Not only can it be carved fluidly, but it is also very resistant to decay, unlike other ornamental wood. Its stability is quite underrated, with only the drying to be a tad problematic. And even that will be for us to deal with.”

Vaguely you wonder if this information was inserted into the game based off China’s own history or if Teyvat really did age throughout many years to build its own history.

“That’s why I recommended this type of wood to you. While you’re not officially a member of the Qixing or other affairs, your position of oracle is enough to warrant such a valued coffin.”

“Are you trying to convince me to buy it for your job, or are you trying to flatter me for your proposal?”

“You may see it as both, neither, or one of the two. I'm simply here as the consultant. I am to assist you with all of your decision-making inside this building.”

A huff of laughter leaves you before you tap on the casket. “Then I'll go along with what you want and take this wood.”

Zhongli nods, not bothering to write it down as his memory must be far greater than you care to imagine. 

His gloved hand is displayed to you in a silent question, but before you can move, he removes the glove.

Quizzically, you raise an eyebrow before placing your hand on his now bare one. Peering at his face from your place you note the slightest blush on his otherwise composed expression.

Smiling to yourself, you allow his fingers to intertwine with your own as he guides you out of the side door. Following him blindly up the staircase, past a set of rooms, another staircase till you finally arrive at the roof.

Zhongli squeezes your hand one last time, clearly relishing in the touch of your calloused fingertips before letting you go.

“I've waited patiently for you, Y/N. What is your answer to my marriage proposal?”

His eyes stare at yours with unshakable firmness. In a sense, it's endearing, and you make it clear by smiling widely.

“It's a no from me.” That resolute expression cracks and his mouth drops open before it's slammed shut at your bright laughter.

But even his poorly concealed embarrassed expression can't smother the blood rushing to his cheeks as his ears hang onto every addictive note that leaves your lips.

This has taken a long time. Like super long. I haven't dropped this series, just have lots of school work to complete and exams to study for. Like I literally have one tomorrow. My editor did me a solid and highlighted the parts that I had to fill in after I gave the mostly completed document for editing. When I have to write the next chapter, it'll take a bit as I gotta reread for recalibration. Taglist is open as always!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255

#whisp's amateur work #sagau oracle au #oracle au #genshin sagau #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere sagau #yandere x reader #yandere #genshin impact sagau #sagau #yandere zhongli #yandere hu tao #yandere xingqiu #yandere chongyun #yandere baizhu #that was a lot of characters #sagau cult au #genshin cult au #sagau zhongli #sagau x reader #am I finally done? #Can I go study now? #I really hope everyone enjoyed this one #I hope I didn't mispell Xingqiu #enjoy the feast

[jellieland]

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

#once he's sure that the thing he's decided to pretend was not grian is gone #martyn goes back to falling #and wishes he still felt enough grief to be able to cry. #limited life smp #life series #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing #i finally managed to finish this. it took me. a while. #they're narrative foils to the point of absurdity is the thing #they're incredibly similar and also completely different #it's fascinating

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 12

it's here everybody

I just want to say a HUGE thank you to everybody that has read and enjoyed along with me, whether that was in the form of reblogging with commentary, leaving a comment or kudos, or even if you just read it and moved on, and to everyone who binge read after the whole thing came out, or stumbled across it months after it finished, thank you to you too. this has most definitely been a labour of love, very self-indulgent at most points, and I have thoroughly enjoyed writing every word (although maybe not so much when Steph was being a grade-A Bitch), and I hope you enjoy this last part!

while the main work of this series is over, keep an eye out for holiday specials (bc I can't just let go of my schmoopies forever)!

Warnings: swearing, mildly spicy bit near the start, you might cry from this being the finale (I did lol), flustered/awkward lockwood, oh you also might cry from the part in the middle/end because I'm evil and can't let you have a fully happy ending (@ the anon who requested this hopefully this satisfied the masochistic urge hehehe), if I forgot anything it's bc I'm tired while I write this

Word count: 6.3k

series masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything? It’s a long way to go if you leave something behind,” Ben said, peering in on Anthony and Y/n where they sat in their loveseat. 

They had packed pretty much everything but their wash bags (which they would need tomorrow morning) and pyjamas (which they would wear tonight), and now they were cuddled up in front of the fire that was roaring in the hearth. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve checked and double checked so if we leave anything behind then we’ll just have to make do.” Her father nodded, smiling at them before ducking back out the room. Everybody else was gathered in the kitchen, making drinks and getting dinner (leftovers and an assortment of deli), which meant that Y/n and Anthony had the living room to themselves. “You alright?” she asked, voice quiet. He hummed in answer, the low sound vibrating in his chest and through her head where it laid on his shoulder. 

“I’m more than alright, darling. Looking forward to being home again, though. Not that I haven’t enjoyed the last few days,” he hurried to add. “I just miss sleeping in my own bed.”

“I get that.” There was a momentary lull in the conversation, both of them basking in the warmth of the fire and each other. “Wait. I feel like we should probably… talk about when we get back? And what… what we’re going to do about…” she trailed off, waving her free hand between them. 

“No, you’re right. We should… we should definitely talk about that.” Another lull, although this one was slightly more tense. “I mean-” Anthony cut himself off with a huff, and she felt him clench his jaw from where she was nestled underneath it. “If you wanted, you could move out of the attic? Obviously if you’d rather stay rooming with Lucy then that’s fine too, I just-”

“Where would I go if I wasn’t in the attic?” She cut him off when he started to ramble, lifting up her head to frown at him. He flushed a delightful pink that wasn’t too dissimilar from the socks he had on, and opened and closed his mouth a few times before turning even more red and answering. 

“In… in my room? It’s a big bed, although not quite as large as the one here, and I’ve got extra pillows if you wanted. But if you would rather stay upstairs then that’s fine too.” He was fidgeting, his leg bouncing and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Y/n smiled softly. 

“If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind, darling.” The blush stayed on his cheeks but his worry eased. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you there.”

“Then… when we get back tomorrow, can I just go straight to bed with you?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned, and she couldn’t help but mirror his smile, pressing a small kiss to his lips. 

“Ew, go suck faces somewhere else.” Y/n rolled her eyes at Will’s teasing tone, flipping her middle finger up at him and putting it away swiftly when Tom walked in, already snacking on the food on his plate. She hadn’t heard Will come in, which was quite the feat given how loudly he was chewing, but he was smiling behind his comments as he settled into an armchair. He was ecstatic that he could openly tease his younger sister now (much to her chagrin) and had wasted no time in doing so. “Bet you two are glad you’re going home?”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice to be back in London, I think,” she replied, shifting around in Anthony’s lap to face the room a little more. “And I miss the others. I did call George the other day after we booked our train tickets, just to let him know what was happening and when we’d be back, but the reception is so bad up here that contacting any of the others has been tricky.” Lucy had been somewhere near them visiting Norrie, but her signal had been awful too. Y/n hadn’t seen the point in calling when mostly it was just static. 

“I didn’t realise you’d called George,” Anthony said. 

“Oh, yeah. I knew he’d be at Portland Row so I figured I should let him know why we weren’t there. He said he wasn’t gonna spend the entire holiday with his family because of the whole ‘your siblings are engineers, so why aren’t you’ thing that always happens.” George had been the first friend that Y/n had opened up to, despite sharing a room with Lucy. They had been researching for a case together in the Archives late into the night, early on after Y/n had first joined the agency, and something about the calm atmosphere and rustle of the papers had meant that when George asked about her backstory in a tea break she had spilled it all. Lucy had been next, also late at night while the boys were on their own case, and Holly not too long after. But George had been the first, and the two of them had been close ever since. He’d opened up to her about his own family, and they’d found they had more in common than they had originally thought. 

“Well, it’s a good job you called. I imagine he would have been quite worried about us.”

“Us? No, George was definitely only worried about me. He didn’t once ask about you.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just telling the truth, it’s not my fault your ego can’t handle it,” Y/n teased. Anthony scoffed, fighting the smile that was breaking through. 

“Sure, Schmoopie.” Her responding glare would have been enough to make even Barnes shrink back, but Anthony could see that it lacked any heat when directed at him. 

He did yelp when she jabbed him in the side though, and her grin turned devilish. 

~~~

The next morning, Anthony was awake before Y/n was. 

At some point in the night she had obviously grown cold, as the duvet was bunched up more on her side than it was his, leaving most of his body out in the not-so-warm air of the bedroom. He didn’t mind, though. Not if it meant that she was happy. 

He didn’t often get the chance to admire her in the morning, not without her knowing he was doing it (not in a creepy way, it just meant that he often got caught and she often made fun of him), so he took his time now. 

He didn’t think he would ever get over how gorgeous she was. 

There was barely any light in the room, but from what little he could see she looked like an angel, especially in the t-shirt of his that she kept stealing. He didn’t mind that either, mostly because somehow she made it look so much better than he ever could. Anthony wasn’t a fool (although given his behaviour over the past few years there was definitely a strong argument against him), and he was well aware that Y/n knew the effect her wearing his clothes had on him. He’d had to excuse the two of them the other day when she’d come downstairs for breakfast wearing his grey hoodie and her pyjama shorts, and when they reemerged from their room nobody commented on the flushed faces or the messy hair of either of them (Y/n had stayed in the hoodie, too). She’d teased him mercilessly since finding out, and now he finally had an opportunity to gaze lovingly at her without her poking fun at him. 

“Morning.” Damn, he must have cursed himself and made her wake up. 

“Good morning, darling.” He smiled at her, wedging his arm under his head while he watched her wipe the sleep from her eyes and turn to face him. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah. Like a log. You been awake long?” She reached out for his hand where it rested on the pillow between them, and he gladly let her thread her fingers through his. 

“Not really. Any good dreams?” There was a pause where she flushed, and Anthony’s curiosity only grew when she shook her head. 

“Not… not that I can think of.” She was avoiding his eyes, which meant she was lying. He smiled, huffing a laugh before shifting his weight. 

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Prick.” He laughed properly at that and propped himself up on an elbow. Y/n had covered her face with her hands to hide the rapidly growing flush, and she was shrinking further into the mattress with every passing second. “It wasn’t even- we were just, like… in a field.”

“What?”

“We were just having a picnic in a field. It was sweet.” She still hadn’t moved her hands so Anthony had to strain a little to hear what she was saying, but the amusement was very present in his voice when he next spoke. 

“So why are you acting like we were doing something else?” There was another pause, and he raised his eyebrows. “Were we doing something else?”

“It might… have ended up that way…”

“I see,” he said, moving again to prevent the arm under his head from falling asleep. Instead of lying back down, however, he pushed himself further up, placing one hand beside Y/n’s head and the other at her waist, slotting a leg between her thighs. He felt her shiver in response, and he gently pried her hands away from her face, lacing his fingers through hers and holding their joined hands in position on the other side of her head. 

“Anthony,” she whispered, lifting her hips a little and brushing her nose against his. 

“Yes?” He could feel her breath on his mouth, could feel it hitch when he let go of her hand to trail his own down her arm slowly, then tracing a path down the side of her body to her thigh. She didn’t answer him, instead reaching up to grab the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the hair there (god, he loved it when she did that) and kissing him in a way that reminded him of honey. It was long and slow, both taking their time to bask in each other, although if she kept tugging lightly at his hair in the way that she was then he might have to speed the pace up a little. It was ridiculous, the power she held over him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If she was an angel, then he would gladly fall into hell a million times over for this little piece of paradise he was experiencing right now. 

He wasn’t sure how long they were there for, kissing, laughing softly when the t-shirt got stuck around her head, tangling limbs but never taking it further than a few bold touches just in case someone walked in with the morning tea, but it felt like barely a few seconds and eternity at the same time. 

When Ben did eventually knock on the door, Anthony went to answer, collecting the teas with a smile and a thank you before kicking the door closed. He smiled down at Y/n where she lay in bed, eyes closed to the light of the lamp that had just been flicked on, and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. The action had her smiling immediately, and Anthony felt his heart jump in his chest. 

They spent most of the next hour lazing in bed, trading more kisses and soft touches before their stomachs started complaining and they were forced to get up and have breakfast. 

A million times, Anthony mused as he watched Y/n get stuck in her (his) jumper. A million times and more, and he had definitely fallen for her already. 

~~~

“Alright, you’re absolutely sure you have everything?”

“Yes, Mum, just like I was the previous six times you asked.”

“I just want to be sure! Who knows when we’ll next see you!” The statement hung in the air for a few seconds, the words sinking in and nestling into everybody’s minds. 

“Soon,” Y/n said, her tone decisive. “As long as Steph and Linda aren’t there.”

“I think I can live with that,” her mother grinned. Anthony and her father had been pulling their bags out of the car and were just now rejoining the gathered family members. Her parents were here, as was Will, but everybody else had stayed behind. They had said their goodbyes back at the house, with promises of phone calls for Nana Jean and Gramps and games of whatever Tom liked the most when she next saw him. Olivia had pretended to be indifferent about her sister leaving, but had squeezed just that little bit tighter when Y/n had said that she really needed to go. Y/n had pretended not to notice the slight shine to Olivia’s eyes, opting to ruffle her hair and laugh instead. Sam and John had wrapped her in hugs so tight she thought she might pass out before even stepping foot outside the house, and had left one last remark of ‘if you hurt her, we’ll kill you’ with Anthony before waving them off cheerfully as though they hadn’t just threatened murder. 

“Right then, Squeak. How long ’till your train?” Will asked, placing an arm over her shoulders and drawing her into his side. 

“About thirty minutes?”

“Why do you always get here so early? You could have had another cup of tea!”

“Uh, no, we couldn’t. Have you got any idea how much can go wrong with trains?!” Will just laughed at her, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re ridiculous, Squeak.”

“You love me anyway though.”

Their parents stepped over then, having finished talking to Anthony about… whatever they had been talking about (she had been too busy with her conversation with Will to hear), and wrapped her in a teary hug. “You promise you’ll come back sometime next year?” her mother choked out, pulling back and holding her daughter by the shoulders. 

“Promise, Mum.” Her father hugged her then, letting Will comfort Emma. 

“I love you, Y/n. You’ll call us too, won’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied, huffing a laugh. “I already said I would about a hundred times.”

“We’re just making sure! Right. Off you two go, then, or you’ll miss your train.”

“Ben, they’ve got half an hour.”

“I know that, Emma, but what if something goes wrong?”

“Dad, please don’t jinx it. I’ll let you know when we’re back, alright?” She moved away, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and frowning when she felt Anthony’s hand already there. “I can take my own luggage, Ant.”

He shrugged. “I know. But I’ve got two hands and you have the tickets.”

“Your logic doesn’t make much sense; I also have two hands. And anyway, you could have your bag and your ticket, and I could have mine!”

“Just- just let me take your luggage, darling.” How could she say no when he was looking at her like that? She relented her grasp on the handle, casting him a mock glare before turning to look at her family one last time. 

“Have a safe journey, you two,” her mother said with a smile. 

“Yeah, get back home safe,” Y/n responded, starting to move towards the station entrance. She could hear Anthony behind her, the suitcase wheels dragging on the concrete while his repurposed kit bag bounced against his side. 

“You alright?” he asked once they were on the train, bags safely stowed. 

“Yeah. Looking forward to being home again.” It was funny, really. The last time she had been on a train she would have scowled at herself for calling Anthony Lockwood’s house her home, but now here she was, doing it without a second thought. 

“What are we going to tell the others?”

“Well… it’ll be late when we get back, right? I mean it’s already three o’clock now and it’s getting darker, so maybe by the time we get in they’ll be in bed? Or on a case if they managed to get a client. We could just do what you said and see how long it takes them?”

“I think you coming out of my bedroom in the morning would be a pretty big hint, darling. But I do love a game,” he grinned, already thinking about their friends’ reactions. “How do we think they’re going to respond?”

“Not a clue. George will probably say ‘I told you so’ or something.”

“Was… was that meant to be an impression of George?”

“Yeah?”

“Darling, no offence, but I think you might be worse than me.”

“Arsehole.”

~~~

It was dark when they got back, although that wasn’t a surprise given it was the middle of winter. 

Anthony had unloaded the bags from the taxi, smiling and thanking the driver with both words and payment, and had turned around to see Y/n stood on the pavement. She looked exhausted, rubbing her eyes and yawning while she waited for him to finish up. The gate stood locked, and 35 Portland Row seemed empty, the windows as dark and grey as the sky. 

Weird, he thought. Maybe they’re out on a case.

He shouldered his bag and pulled up the handle on Y/n’s suitcase just as the last of the noise from the taxi leaving died off and the road went quiet. Then he heard a scream that was so piercing he dropped the luggage and clapped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as though it would save his hearing. A ghost? Only Visitors could make a sound that fear-inducing, and if the chill that crept along his spine was anything to go by he would need some sort of weapon. Maybe their best bet was to get inside the house, so he reached for his keys and tried to block out the screaming. 

His keys. 

Shit, where were his keys? He looked up to see if Y/n was alright, if she had maybe had the wise idea to remove herself from possible danger before he did, and his heart stopped in his chest. 

The gate was still closed, and 35 Portland Row still empty and cold. Somehow it felt a whole lot darker than it had just a few moments ago, and Anthony belatedly realised that it might have something to do with the rapidly spreading blue tinge on Y/n’s arm. He couldn’t see any Visitors nearby, or any death glows that might have been stepped on by either one of them to provoke an attack, but all of that had happened so fast that he didn’t have time to process any of it. “Darling? Darling look at me.” He couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice when he spoke, memories of another time a girl he had loved died in much the same way, and he refused to let that happen again. “Let’s get you inside, yeah? There’s some adrenaline shots in the hallway, I just need you to stand up for me, darling. Y/n, please. Please, just stand up.” Why was she so heavy? Why was he so heavy? Was this what dying felt like?

“Anthony?” 

Why did her voice sound so far away? No. He couldn’t let this happen. He tried to lift her again, but somehow she was even heavier than before. Maybe he was tired, or too weak. 

“Anthony, what’s going on?” Her face was blurring and he realised that it was because he was crying, but his hands were too weighted to lift and wipe the tears away. 

“I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I don’t know, darling. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ll be okay.”

“Anthony!” 

That had been louder, as though she were talking right into his ear, and he gasped for air and sat bolt upright. 

“Anthony, are you okay? You looked-”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes blinking back the harsh light that threatened to turn him blind. 

“What are you sorry for?”

“I can’t… I can’t help you,” his breath was coming faster now, and vaguely he noted that there was someone nearby offering him water. His gaze was solely fixed on Y/n, though, and-

Wait. Hadn’t she been on the floor? Now she was on his left where before she had been on his right and in his arms, and her arms were the colour they always were, no blue tinge in sight. “Anthony, what were you dreaming about?”

He stared at her, partly in realisation that none of it had been real, but mostly in disbelief that she wasn’t dying in his arms in front of their home. “What?” The train carriage came back into focus, checkered seats and wooden table forming solid shapes in his line of vision. The view out the windows was barely visible from how dark it was. 

“You were asleep, and then you started… I don’t know. Twitching, I guess? And you were talking but I couldn’t make it out but you sounded really sad, and-” He cut her off by launching himself at her, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face in her neck and holding his breath. “Ant?” She paused, slowly bringing her own arms around him and shifting position so that she was more comfortable. “Are… are you breathing right now? I’m gonna need you to breathe for me, Ant, can you do that?”

He did, and immediately choked on a sob. It hadn’t been real, and she was alive. They sat there for a long time while he cried, and then even longer after his tears had subsided and he was just sniffling into her neck. He didn’t know whereabouts they had been when he first woke up, but Y/n finally moved him off of her the station before theirs. “Sorry, just need to shake my arm out. You’re heavier than you look, you know.” They both sat up, and Anthony went to take a tissue out of his coat pocket. “Here,” Y/n whispered, reaching up to wipe his face with her sleeve. Her hands were gentle, barely-there touches on his cheek, but Anthony needed more. He pushed her hand to his face, focusing on the pressure and the warmth of her skin, and the callouses that had built up from being an agent all these years. A few seconds later he felt her forehead against his, and her breath on his mouth (her breath was warm too), and her other hand slipping into his hair, holding him as close as possible. “You’re okay. It’s okay. We’ll be back soon, alright? I think it’s only about ten minutes until we get to our station and then we can call a taxi and go home.”

“Okay.” Whoever it was that had been offering water earlier had left the bottle on the table, and he reached for it now, twisting the cap and downing the liquid. “We’ll be careful once we get out though, right? Because it’s dark and there could be Visitors, and we don’t have our rapiers, and-”

“Anthony, we will be absolutely fine.” Her tone was firm and she pulled his chin up to stare directly in his eyes. “The taxi will drop us off right outside, and if you like I’ll take the keys and get the kettle on. Or you can do that and I’ll get the bags, or we can get our own bags and go up together. Whichever you feel most comfortable with, yeah?” When he nodded she sighed, letting go of his chin and holding his hand instead. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here, alright?”

“I know. Thank you.”

He didn’t let go of her hand until they were safely back in 35 Portland Row, front door shut and locked and bags in his room ready to be unpacked in the morning. 

~~~

Lucy Carlyle had had the best sleep of her life. 

She’d come back from seeing Norrie the day before, the freak snowstorm keeping her from getting back sooner, and the journey had been so horrific she’d passed out the moment she got into bed. Screaming children and drunk men had populated the carriage, creating so much noise that she hadn’t been able to go to sleep on the train, and she was starting to look like Lockwood with the bags under her eyes. 

Now it was nearly midday, and she had managed to crawl out of bed, sling on some clothes, and stumble down the stairs to put the kettle on for some tea. 

Given how late Lockwood and Y/n must have got back last night (it had been after her, and the clock in the hall had shown a time that was both far too late and far too early for her liking), she had been expecting them, as well as George, to be in bed. But then again Y/n hadn’t been in the attic with her when she’d woken up just now (although her vision had been rather blurry, so she totally could have missed a whole human being in the room), so maybe she was already downstairs?

What she hadn’t expected was walking in to the kitchen to see both Y/n and Lockwood having a normal conversation (well, as normal as conversations in this house could go, she was quite sure they were discussing frogs), in which neither of them was glaring or looking like they would commit a felony at any given moment. Lockwood was leaning back against the kitchen sink (looking very snug in his grey hoodie and comfy trousers), mug of tea in one hand while the other braced his weight on the counter, and he was chatting happily to Y/n (who was wearing what looked suspiciously like one of Lockwood’s jumpers). She was sat at the kitchen table, cupping her tea with both hands, and the smile on her face, Lucy realised with a start, was genuine. 

“… Morning?” She started, pushing the kitchen door open and moving further into the room, eyeing her friends. 

“Morning, Luce,” Lockwood replied, taking a large gulp of his tea. He didn’t seem fazed by the incredibly strange situation that was happening right now (was this some sort of a fever dream? Maybe she was hallucinating from sleep deprivation or something), and Lucy nearly poured the still-hot water on her hand instead of in the mug. “Sleep alright?”

“Uh… yeah. What time did you two get back last night?”

“Oh, I don’t even know,” Y/n started. “Definitely past two in the morning, but we were so tired we didn’t really look at the time.”

“Right.” There was a pause while Lucy finished making her tea, and as she took an experimental first sip she regarded them over the top of her drink. “So… Y/n. Did you just collapse on the sofa downstairs or something? I didn’t hear you come in last night.” The other girl froze for a moment, and if Lucy wasn’t a trained operative then she probably wouldn’t have noticed it since her panic was almost instantly replaced by forced calm. 

“Oh, uh…” she glanced at Lockwood, who made some sort of face in reply. “… no?”

“Huh, you must have been quiet, then. That or I was sleeping like a rock.”

“Sure,” Y/n said, a weird look on her face. She was smiling, but almost like she knew something that Lucy didn’t, and that puzzled her. A chuckle sounded from the corner of the room, and under a blue and white striped tea towel, Skull had woken up. 

“You’re really going to take that for an answer? She didn’t even pick one!” Lucy frowned, begrudgingly realising that Skull was right. Y/n hadn’t really answered her question, and what had happened at her parents’ house the last couple of weeks for her to stop trying to kill Lockwood by glaring at him? 

As nonchalantly as possible she asked “So you were quiet? Or was I sleeping like a rock?” 

“Um… I was quiet?” She didn’t sound very sure, and Lucy’s suspicion was growing at the same rate that Skull’s grin was. 

“I know for a fact she didn’t make it all the way up the stairs last night,” he said, some of the sludge in the jar forming comically large eyebrows that waggled around. Now that was interesting. Why would Y/n say she’d been quiet coming in if she had never come in in the first place? Lucy was just about to ask that very question when George trudged into the kitchen, oversized shirt thankfully covering what his lack of trousers didn’t. He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinting at the people gathered. 

“… What’s going on? Y/n’s not trying to murder Lockwood.”

“Why is that a thing?! I’m not always trying to kill him!”

“In fairness, it was a regular occurrence, dar-” Lockwood’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. Lucy saw his jaw clench, unclench, then clench again while he flitted his eyes closed in some sort of silent prayer. 

“Yeah…” George said. “This is weird.” He stood at the head of the table, lifting a hand to scratch at his side like a monkey. “Dare I ask how your Christmas was?”

“I mean… Steph and Linda were there, but after I slapped Steph and Mum shouted at Linda they left.” Lucy stood straighter in shock, pushing off the counter she had previously been leaning on. George was similarly surprised, but Lockwood? Lockwood was grinning with pride. 

“You slapped your cousin?!” George exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. “Like, you properly hit her?!”

“I mean… yeah?” Y/n replied, taking a sip of tea. 

“It was awesome,” Lockwood added, and Lucy and George shared a look. 

“You think he would have said that before?” Skull piped up again. “I certainly don’t. Something happened while they were away, that’s for sure. And I know what it was!” He said the last part in a sing-song voice, face turning over in the jar. 

“Yeah, well you could just tell me,” Lucy muttered, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry. Skull’s talking.”

“Where’s the fun in that! Better to watch you figure it all out on your own!”

“Bastard.” 

George had started making his own tea, popping two slices of bread into the toaster and giving it a good whack when it didn’t immediately start working. Satisfied that his breakfast was underway, he busied himself with his drink. “So Y/n… how come your suitcase was in Lockwood’s room?” he questioned, turning and pushing his glasses further up his nose. Lucy tried to disguise her shock, but that resulted in a small smirk instead, her eyebrows rising while she regarded her friends. 

Lockwood answered. “She didn’t want to lug it all the way up the stairs, not with the time being what it was. It just… hasn’t been moved yet.” Y/n nodded, a little too enthusiastically, and cast a worried glance towards Skull. 

“So Y/n and her suitcase slept in Lockwood’s room?” George asked, still probing for answers. He had a little smile on his face, one of those ‘I figured it out’ ones that when she had first joined the agency, Lucy had mistaken for ‘I’m better than you’ smirks. She wasn’t far behind him, and if she hadn’t already figured it out then the reactions of Y/n and Lockwood were enough to confirm her suspicions. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Y/n said, sipping her tea. There was a brief pause in which Lockwood nodded, smiling softly at her, and then it set in. Lockwood looked like he had malfunctioned, the cogs in his brain turning but not producing any kind of reaction other than a blank stare with confused eyes. Y/n choked on her mouthful of tea, spitting some of it back out into the mug and resting it on the kitchen table while she coughed. Immediately Lockwood’s brain started functioning properly again, and he quickly put his own tea down and went to help Y/n, fussing over her like a worried parent. 

Skull was chuckling in the corner again, and Lucy couldn’t help but join in. George laughed too, his mirth only growing when Lockwood and Y/n turned and glared at him. “Alright,” Lucy started. “Why was Y/n sleeping with Lockwood?”

“I wasn’t sleeping with him!” the other girl spluttered, apparently thinking that Lucy had suggested that the pair of them had had sex, and George was now nearly doubled over with laughter. Lockwood smirked, and before Lucy could protest he was already opening his mouth. 

“I mean not last night, but there were plenty of times at your parents’ house where we-”

“OH MY DAYS NO, STOP-” Y/n got up, all but tackling Lockwood to the ground and slapping her hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing his sentence. Lockwood went down like a sack of potatoes, and the ‘oof’ he let out on impact had made Lucy snort into her mug. “They don’t need to know that, idiot,” she whispered, but since sound echoed in the kitchen Lucy and George could still hear her, even after the toaster popped loudly. 

“How long have you two… been like this?” Lucy asked, waving her hand in their direction where they now laid on the floor. Lockwood tried to talk but Y/n’s hand was still firmly keeping his mouth shut, and while he was attempting to prise himself out of her grip she was apparently too strong. Lucy didn’t want to think about how much his jaw would hurt afterwards; she had had pillow fights with Y/n that had ended with trips to the medical cabinet because the pair of them got too ambitious with their hits. 

Y/n answered, still attempting to maintain some dignity. “On the floor? A few seconds-”

“Let me rephrase,” Lucy cut her off, putting her finished mug of tea down on the counter with a decisive thud. “How long have you two been together?” Y/n stilled, giving Lockwood time to wriggle out of her grasp and glance awkwardly between his gathered colleagues. He pushed himself to sit back against the kitchen cabinets, one arm resting outstretched on his knee while the other scratched at his neck. He was nervous, then. He looked like he wanted to answer, but he was still shifting his gaze between them all. 

“Uh…” Y/n started. There was a pause, and then she sighed. “Dammit.” She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled five pound note. Lucy frowned for a moment, wondering what the hell a fiver had to do with this situation, then huffed in surprise when it was passed very begrudgingly to Lockwood. He looked very pleased with himself, accepting the money without moving much, hand outstretched to catch the note between his index and middle fingers. 

“What was that for?” George asked, although he’d just taken a mouthful of his toast so it came out more muffled. 

“Lockwood said we wouldn’t last a day keeping it secret from you both, and I bet that we could.” Y/n shrugged, shuffling around on the floor to sit between Lockwood’s legs. He didn’t get the message at first, too busy stuffing the money into his hoodie pocket, but after a sharp jab to his thigh he moved, wrapping his arms around her waist and complaining when Y/n shoved her elbows into his middle. 

“I swear you do that deliberately,” he muttered, but there wasn’t any malice behind it like there would have been before the holidays. 

“I don’t! If you keep complaining about it then I will do it on purpose, dickhead.”

That was better. Lucy shuddered at the thought of the two of them being overly sickly sweet, all cuddles and pet names like ‘Sugar’ or ‘Schmoopie’, and was instantly glad that the competitive streak in them both had apparently stayed. It would be a lot easier to stomach living with a new couple if they weren’t being insufferably cute. 

“So… you bet on your own acting skills?” questioned George, finishing his slice of toast. “Seems a bit stupid, really. You’re both awful at acting.” Lockwood and Y/n stopped bickering, instead staring up at George in shared outrage. 

“How dare you! I’m a charades champion!”

“I can act, it’s Lockwood that’s the problem!”

They spoke at the same time, both pointing at Lockwood for their respective comments, and Y/n took a moment to take in what he’d said. “Charades champion?” she said, drawing out the syllables and turning slowly to look at him over her shoulder. “We already talked about this, Ant. Using props is cheating, so you lost every game you played!” Lucy frowned. ‘Ant’? Since when had Lockwood let anybody call him Ant?! Apparently he didn’t mind, instead being too busy looking at Y/n with hearts for eyes while he tried (ineffectively) to argue his case. It was obvious that Y/n would win, given how wrapped around her little finger Lockwood was, but the argument wasn’t really an argument. More like… friendly teasing. Lucy could deal with that, she decided. It was much better than having to comfort one of them or convince apologies out of them after a screaming match. 

Skull had gone silent in the corner, but there was a smile in the sludge. He almost certainly had some information, but Lucy could get the details out of him and her friends later.

For now, she was content to watch them be a proper family for the first time since Y/n joined, even if Lockwood’s laughing face was being shoved away from the aforementioned girl as he tried to kiss her in an attempt to apologise for cheating at charades. 

tag list (if you're on here twice or I forgot you I'm so sorry, this tag list is honestly such a mess whoops):

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #deck the halls (and not your partner) #enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

[siyooungi]

HAII i love ur works sm THEYRE HONESTLY WELL WRITTEN. NO THWYRE A MASTERPIECE i always smiliny n shi everytime i read em🤭

i act have a request!! can you please write a idol!huh yunjin x yn. theyve been in a relationship for almost a year. ANDD yn is a shy person,she rarely talk cause shes insecure w her voice and the way she pronounce stuff(she has lisp? she can’t properly pronounce the letter S” so means yunjin rarely heard her voice.

yunjin did try to convince her multiple time that yn voice is the most beautiful sound in this world,its like a lullaby to yunjin.

THEN on their first anniversary,yn decided to suprise yunjin. yunjin woke up to a singing vd by yn HSJSHSHS OMG the vd is like this https://youtu.be/V-1vBrlD0Bc (lets pretend thats yn???!3!3!3)) YEAH so maybe you can come up w rhe ending cause i act dont have any idea for that hehe. THATS ALL FROM ME THANK YOU SO MUCH MY BRO ILOVE U SM (you dont have to do the request if youre busy<3 it just at thought from my brain hehe)

A/N: Awww, thank you so much!! That really means a lot. Although the video was unavailable, I can only imagine how amazing it sounded. I really hope you like this then!!

Pairing: Yunjin x Fem!Reader

Idol: Huh Yunjin (Le Sserafim)

Warning(s): None!

Yunjin is someone you’d consider your greatest supporter and hype-woman, as there was not a single day that passed where she wasn’t treating you like you were a prized possession. She loved everything about you, everything, from all of your little mannerisms to the beauty you possessed. On top of that, she made you the happiest girl in the world. Some might even consider her the ideal lover, a role that suits her entirely.

You, however, despite all of the never-ending praise and love she showered you with, were burdened by a deep insecurity that prevented you from fully expressing yourself. You dealt with a lisp, which made it difficult for you to pronounce the letter 's,' becoming a source of self-doubt and unease.

Yunjin, being the loving and supportive girlfriend that she was, had repeatedly reassured you that your voice was a treasure, a melody that resonated deeply within her heart. She cherished every hum and shake of the head that you used as substitutes for words. Hell, she even got excited when you spoke a few words. It was all she would typically get when you spoke to her. Despite Yunjin’s best efforts, you remained hesitant and continued to limit your speech, unable to believe in your own voice's beauty.

As your first anniversary approached, you did your best to overcome your fear and surprise Yunjin with something you’d hope she’d feel proud of. Considering you don’t speak often, you figured the least you could do was use your voice for your anniversary. Although she adapted to your lack of vocalness, that didn’t mean she didn’t want it. She’d made it clear every time she tried to evoke more words out of you. Whilst you were more quiet, you expressed yourself through actions. That was something she was always grateful for.

On the day right before your anniversary, while Yunjin was away at practice and you had the place to yourself, you mustered up all your courage to do what you had been planning for awhile.

With trembling hands, you composed yourself and positioned your phone before hitting the record button. Taking a deep breath, you began to sing.

The sweet, tender sound that escaped your lips filled the room. Your voice carried a vulnerability that mirrored your own insecurities, yet it was also infused with a profound love that only Yunjin could truly understand.

When you felt that you sang enough and brought the song to an end, you stopped the recording. It wasn’t necessarily long, but it was more than enough. Well, at least that’s what you hoped.

Feeling satisfied with the progress you made, you locked your phone with a smile. You would send this to Yunjin when she headed off to sleep. She was going to stay the night with her members and drive back to you on the day of your anniversary.

Fortunately, that day arrived rather quickly. You were still asleep by the time Yunjin had awoken. She wanted to wake up early so she could get a gift for you and then head your way, hopefully arriving before you woke up.

Yunjin’s alarm went off, waking her up and earning a groan in response. She picked up her phone to look at the time, squinting her eyes as they attempted to adjust to the brightness of her screen. As soon as her eyes were used to it, she did just that and while doing so, she noticed a message in her notification center. Wondering who could’ve possibly texted her while she was asleep, she unlocked her phone and checked.

It was from you, morphing her confusion into exhilaration. She clicked on the message and saw that it was an attachment, returning her puzzled expression as she sat up straighter and tapped on the video.

The sound of your voice filled the space of her room, bouncing off the walls and gracefully entering her ears. The latter couldn’t help the emotions that washed over her at that moment.

Yunjin's eyes welled up with tears as she listened, captivated by the beauty that resonated within every note. Your voice washed over Yunjin like a gentle wave, drowning out any doubts or insecurities. In that moment, she realized that your voice was not just a lullaby to her, but a symphony of love and vulnerability that transcended any imperfections.

The video eventually came to an end, causing her to quickly wipe her tears away and jump out of bed, forgetting to respond. She rushed to get ready, nearly tripping over her pants as she hopped on one leg to pull them up.

She was ready in record time, putting her phone in her pocket and grabbing her bag. She quickly double checked the bag for the necklace she bought you before closing it and running outside. Her manager knew that she was planning on getting you some flowers, so they already had the car ready by the time she made it outside.

Yunjin hastily got into the car and closed the door. Sensing the younger girl’s urgency, they sped off and headed to a local flower store. As fast as she entered the vehicle, she exited just as swift.

She searched the shop for your favorite flowers and and grabbed them as soon as she spotted them. Not wasting any time, she paid the owner and sent a thankful smile their way before rushing back out.

It didn’t take long before she arrived to your place. Thanking her manager as she got out, she made her way to your front door, knowing you’d still be asleep. She had the spare key to get inside, anyways.

Once inside, Yunjin took the small jewelry box containing your necklace and put it in her pocket, as well as placing the flowers on the counter. Yunjin tiptoed through the hallway, careful not to make a sound. She gently pushed open your door, revealing a scene that melted her heart. There, lying peacefully under the covers was your sleeping figure.

A tender smile graced Yunjin's lips as she observed her sleeping beauty. She couldn't help but feel a rush of overwhelming love and admiration. Kneeling beside the bed, Yunjin reached out to caress your hair, her fingertips gliding through the strands with utmost care.

As if sensing Yunjin’s presence, you stirred, slowly awakening from your blissful slumber. Your eyes fluttered open, and a tired but content smile adorned your face. Seeing Yunjin before you brought a spark of joy to your eyes.

"Hey," You murmured, your voice filled with warmth and love.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Yunjin whispered softly, her voice carrying a gentle tenderness. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Your smile widened as you stretched lazily, reaching out to pull Yunjin closer. She intertwined her fingers with yours, putting your hand on the pillow and leaning in for a soft kiss.

"I am really lucky to have you," You murmured, your voice laced with sincerity. "Thank you for being in my life."

Yunjin stayed close and she looked you deeply in the eyes, smiling fondly. "No, thank you for making every day brighter, for being the love of my life." Her voice was filled with a deep affection that resonated within their shared space.

“And thank you for allowing me to hear that beautiful voice of yours. Best thing to wake up to.” You felt your flush from realization. You completely forgot you sent her that video of you singing before you went to sleep.

“Ah..”

“Well, second best thing to wake up to. You’re first.” Yunjin spoke as she used her free hand to caress your cheek. The reason behind your flushed face was no longer from embarrassment, but instead from your girlfriend’s words.

“Just come in the bed..” You mumbled, patting the space beside you. If she wasn’t within such close proximity, she wouldn’t have heard you. Smiling, she did just that and laid on her back, turning her head in your direction. While you were beneath the covers, she was on above them, considering she was already dressed for the day.

You observed as she got comfortable before inching closer, wanting to be as close as possible, evoking a chuckle out of the raven haired girl. She happily embraced you, allowing you to rest your head on her chest.

“Do you want your gift?” Yunjin asked quietly, playing with your hair and looking up at the ceiling as she waited for your response. You hummed, not wanting to get up.

“Not at the moment. I just want to cuddle for awhile.”

Pleased with your answer, she planted a kiss on your forehead before resting her head on yours. Your breathing synced up with hers and you closed your eyes, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over you again. She knew it wouldn’t take long for you to fall back asleep, so she closed her eyes as well. You both would be able to further enjoy your anniversary when you woke up.

A/N: Thank you for the request, and love you too!!! <33

#fem reader #le sserafim #le sserafim yunjin #yunjin imagines #yunjin x reader #kpop #kpop girl groups #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim scenarios #siyooungi

[yourmidnightlover]

timeless - ch. 3

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: in a flashback chapter, we see what it was like for reader and bucky before and during deployment, up until they were captured by what they didn’t know was hydra.

warnings: canon typical violence, talk of war, wounds, little knowledge of how deployment/war works on my end lol, affectionate/flirty bucky, if i missed anything PLEASE let me know!

w/c: 2.3k+

a/n: HIIII! another chapter that’s not two months out… who am i???? this chapter is definitely the last calm before the storm… expect either the next or the one after that to be very very angsty. i haven’t decided if i want to do the next chapter in current time/civil war time or a flashback as well, so if you have a preference please let me know!

<- chapter 2 ~ chapter 4 ->

two days before deployment

two weeks ago you found out you were being deployed as a nurse for the 107th with your best friend. your uniform came in a week ago. now, it was only two days until you would go to europe to try and ensure the safety of the men who were fighting for your freedom.

especially the man you called your best friend.

buky wasn’t nervous. well, not about himself, at least. he worked you twice as hard during your workouts, demanding longer runs and harder punches until he was satisfied with your progress. he pushed you to your limits and helped you cool off, running you hot baths and cooking you dinner when you were too sore to move.

although you loved having all of his attention and devotion, it had been a strenuous two weeks.

“the stark expo?” you questioned as he called out to you from the kitchen. you were in the shower, scrubbing away after another long workout as he was throwing together some sandwiches.

“yea!” you could hear his smile. “i’ll go in my uniform, you could even throw yours on. you know i would definitely love to see that,” you rolled your eyes at his comment, knowing he was merely joking around.

“maybe in your dreams.”

“you know it,” he knocked on the bathroom door to alert you of his presence. “i think it’ll be a nice last outing for steve and us. one last hoorah before… everything. one more good memory.”

“you say that as if it’ll be our last, jamie!” you turned the water off and wrapped a towel around your body before yanking the door open. “we’ll be back. between the two of us, we’re unstoppable, right?”

he turned to look at you, taking a deep breath before continuing, “i know, but it’ll be different, y’know?” he let his hand find your wet hair, laughing at your dripping wet state. “you should dry off, the food’s ready.”

“thank you, my chef,” you scampered into the guest room (your room, really) and quickly got dressed.

the truth is, bucky was scared shitless. sure, he was worried he wouldn’t be coming home once it’s all over. he was scared he would get whatever ptsd was. he was frightened about the possibility of him getting severely injured. but the thing that was debilitating him the most was the fact that he might not be able to protect you.

he’s always prided himself on being able to tell when you’re within a 3 mile radius of danger, guiding you out of harm's way as soon as he realises. with you literally going into a war zone, you will be surrounded by danger. gunshots, grenades, hand to hand combat, everything that could possibly harm you, you would encounter firsthand. that is what was the most frightening part of this whole deployment situation.

for you, you were simply scared to lose bucky. you couldn’t give two shits about what would happen to yourself. bucky had a family here, his best friend, he had so much. you just wanted to make sure that he would be able to make it back to all of it.

in a perfect world, the both of you would have made it back together.

-

“i knew you’d look amazing,” bucky cheered as you stood by your door, clad in your uniform and feeling tacky as ever.

“i dunno if i actually want to wear this out, jamie,” you pulled at the neckline, neglecting to look at him in return. “feels… weird.”

“c’mon, darlin’ you look great,” you felt his hands reach for yours, breaking your attention on yourself and diverting it to him.

boy, was he one to talk about you in your uniform when he looks so wonderful in his own. from his hat to the buttons adorning his cufflinks, he looked to die for. so much so, that your breath actually caught in your throat.

“woah there, y/n/n,” he smirked knowingly. “make sure to breathe for me. can't be leaving without you, darlin’.”

you rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, “so arrogant.”

but he’s not wrong… no matter how much you wish he was, he always seemed to truly know what made you tick, and he knew how to tease you from it, too.

he also knew how beautiful he was. there was no way he didn’t with how many girls constantly ogle him as he simply walks the sidewalks with you or steve. in school, you would always see how the girls gravitated towards bucky. you couldn’t blame them, either. he’s tall, dark, and handsome with pretty blue eyes that were like whirlpools, sucking you in and making you look stupid for trying to not get sucked in to the spiral.

truth be told, you were jealous when he would entertain these other girls. he would take them dancing or to fancy restaurants, sometimes telling you and steve all about it upon his return.

sure, you were often entertained by other guys back in school, but if you were honest with yourself, you knew they were just distractions. they never compared to bucky.

all bucky would ever do was complain about your poor choice of distractions. if you went on a date to the fair, your date never took you on enough rides. if you went dancing then your partner must’ve had two left feet in bucky’s eyes.

no matter what went on, bucky found a way to make it seem like you had terrible taste in men, so somewhere along the way, you’d kinda stopped trying. besides, it’s not like those dates ever truly meant anything to you anyway.

“you know you love it,” he traded your hands for your waist as he tugged you into his chest. “i still don’t like the idea of you goin’ in, even if you’ll be goin’ with me.”

“well,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, “we still can’t change anything about it. we’ll be alright, jamie. we’ll be alright.”

with that, you left to meet steve at the expo with another date bucky’s trying to set him up on. steve was pouting, as usual. apparently he had been denied entry into the army by yet another station. soon, all of this would catch up to him and by the time it does, the police would be right on his trail too.

“i can do it; they’re asking everyone to enlist, for everyone to help however they can, yet they won’t let me try!” steve went on about how frustrating his situation was.

bucky threw his arm over the smaller man, “they’re just lookin’ out for you, punk. you know that. now, you keep trying to enlist how you are, you’re gonna end up gettin’ in bigger trouble than usual.”

“doesn’t make it any less frustrating, jerk,” he elbowed bucky’s gut that he was positioned under.

“boys, boys,” you sighed as the two finally stopped shoivng at one another. “i would like to spend my last night here not talking about what we’re about to go into, please.”

it was extremely crowded, body’s shoulder to shoulder trying to see what howard’s newest mystical yet scientific creation would be.

as some douchebag that was nearly a foot taller than you manuevered to stand right in front of you, bucky bent down to your level, “wanna get on my shoulders?”

“jamie, you’re gonna drop me on my face!” you chuckled at his suggestion.

“ouch,” he threw his hand over his heart, clutching it intensely. “you wound me. have a little trust,” and with the smile he was sending your way, you couldn’t say no.

suddenly, his head was beneath your thighs, but not in the way you might’ve imagined a time or two when you were by yourself, lifting you to see above nearly everyone else in the vicinity. his hands were gripping your thighs tight, ensuring your security whilst also spreading a bit of warmth very close to where his head resided. your hands wandered to his shoulders, you didn’t want to mess up his uniform too much.

“better up there, doll?”

“much,” you laughed as him and steve continued their way through the crowd to see better.

howard stark began his speech and presentation, everyone ‘ooo’-ing and ‘awe’-ing each minute. with so much talk of the future, it mostly reminded you of the fear you had of your own. would you mom ever come back from this war, herself? would she be lost in her work? what would life look like if things didn’t go well in the field?

it was almost as if bucky could tell you were in your head because within a few more minutes, he ushered the two of you out of the crowd before easing you off his shoulders with his award-winning smile.

“seems like steve ran off again,” bucky chuckled as he adjusted his cap. “what a surprise right?” his voice was dripping with sarcasm. you remained silent, stuck in your own head before bucky continued. “what’s one thing you want to do before you die.”

“woah!” your eyes widened. “way to be cheerful, jamie,” you scoffed at his question as you continued walking around, seemingly nowhere.

“hey,” he placed his hand on your shoulder, turning you towards him. “i’m serious. i know it’s scary, what we’re going into. i’m scared shitless. i’m terrified. but what i’m scared of most is losing you, doll,” he paused, letting his fingers take through the ends of your hair before he continued. “so, tell me, what’s one thing you want to do before you die.”

“i wanna see the northern lights,” you admitted quietly, almost embarrassed. “i mean, i’ve seen pictures of ‘em in the paper, but the way people write about them makes it seem like they’re so much better in person.”

“i know the feeling,” you met his gaze before you continued.

“what about you?” you nudged his shoulder with your own. “what do you wanna do before you die?”

“i don’t think there’s anything else i want in my life right now,” he kept playing with your hair before you continued walking around the park, his arm thrown around your shoulder and yours around his waist.

-

3 weeks after deployment

“heya, doll,” bucky’s voice rang through the tent as he made his way towards you.

currently, you were stitching up someone with a 5 inch laceration to their thigh, one inch to the right and it would’ve struck their major artery and he would’ve been a goner.

“james, i’m busy right now,” wiping off the wound once more, applying antibacterial ointment before wrapping his thigh in gauze. “be sure to come back before lights out, i’ll clean and redress the wound, try to stay off of it if you can,” you gave the man a worried grin.

“thank you, y/n,” the man pressed a kiss to your hairline before making his way to his bunk, you assume.

“just came to say hi to my best girl,” he wrapped his arms around your waist. “and i have a small wound i need you to tend to, please?”

you turned to face him, rolling your eyes when you saw the puppy dog eyes adorned on his adorable face, even covered in layers of dirt and grease.

“let me see it.”

he lifted his shirt - god those abs - to show you the many bruises and scratches littering his torso. you looked up at him with sad eyes. “i hate seeing you like this…”

he paused before snaking his finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i’m okay. it’s just the price of war.”

“i hate that you’re the one paying for it, though,” you shrugged as you motioned for him to lift his arms so you could remove his shirt easier. “gosh, jamie,” it was worse the more you uncovered. “it’s like you’re rolling around on a knife out there.”

“sorry, doll,” he chuckled as you reached for more supplies. you took a washcloth and dipped it in a bucket of water, wringing the washcloth and wiping down his chest and arms. “you’re so gentle.” you continued your job with close concentration. “always loved that about you, y’know?” you ignored his comments. “and your lip does this thing when you’re so concentrated - i don’t even know how to describe it, it’s so adorable.”

you sighed, biting back a smile as you leaned back, “i’m starting to think you purposely get hurt just to see me, now.”

“caught on already?” he chuckled before wincing slightly. you leaned forward once more and started back on cleaning up his skin.

“luckily nothings too deep,” you commented. “you won’t need stitches, but with as many cuts as there are here, i’m gonna go ahead and disinfect and wrap you with some antibacterial to avoid infection.”

“i love it when you talk all doctor to me,” you rolled your eyes at his comment. he lowered his voice before continuing, “can i still sneak in with you tonight?”

“you always do,” you smiled as you dabbed rubbing alcohol on his wounds, trying to distract him as the sting began. “same time?”

“always,” he nodded before you began putting on the antibacterial ointment and then wrapping his torso. “thanks, doll.”

“anytime, jamie,” you nodded as he wrapped you in a warm embrace.

he came into your tent that night. you reapplied his ointment and rewarded him before he insisted you lay your head on his chest to go to sleep, claiming it was more comforting that way. he held you as he slept, not even realizing how tight his grip was.

you didn’t mind it, though. it was comforting. you felt safe and secure in his arms.

that’s how you’ve slept the past two weeks. the same routine, every day. at least, when he was at base. it was harder when he was off fighting. sometimes you had dreams that instead of him coming back to you, it was a letter of condolences, saying their apologies for his missing body.

other times you didn’t sleep at all, too busy worrying about if he was alright or safe at all. you would worry that he was wounded, crying for your help.

i’m a few months, your life would be turned upside down. you weren’t prepared for what was in store, neither was bucky or steve.

TAGS:

@cjand10

@coldheartedmar

@ordelixx

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #smut #james bucky barnes #marvel #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #sargeant barnes smut #sargeant barnes x reader #sargeant james barnes #james barnes smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump

[succubusdaydream]

By The Grace of The Moon || Astarion x Werewolf!Selunite!Reader PT2

Masterlist || Words: 2428

Part 1

AN: Hiii tysm for all the support on pt1-like I said last time, some characters may seem ooc but so far im liking how this is turning out. Reader is officially referred to as Tav at the end of this chapter! If you want to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Also I have a Gale fic in the works so be on the lookout for that <3

---

The night seemed to last forever and when Gale woke up to take over patrol, sleep took just as long to grace you. It was a simple pet name. Darling. But coming from his mouth, it sounded like a symphony. You weren’t sure if he felt the same pull that you did. After all, it was only a rumor that non-Lycans could feel it. You, however, it pulled at you like a leash. And his words ran through your dreams as you tried your hardest to get even a bit of sleep.

                In the morning you’re certain that your lack of sleep was noticeable, though your group members never said anything. The scent you had awoken too wasn’t that of rosemary or brandy. ‘At least, not the MAIN scent.’ It smelt of herbs. Like a homemade soup.

                Exiting your tent, you saw Gale and Shadowheart around a now dying campfire. Over it was a simmering pot, no doubt where the smell was coming from. Stretching your back and arms, you sighed as a satisfying pop sounded from them. The noise got the attention of your associates.

                “Ahh, good morning. I hope you slept well?” Gale’s voice was the first to grace your ears as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and walked forward. You gave a nod and took the soup he had poured and extended to you. “It may not taste the best, but I worked with what we had available.”

                “Thank you, Gale. It smells great.” You sat in silence as you ate before realizing someone was missing. ‘How did I miss the most important person?’ “Where’s Astarion? Did he eat?” You looked toward his tent and caught his scent, knowing he was in there.

                Shadowheart was the one to respond. “He’s been in his tent all morning, might still be catching up beauty sleep.” She had a small smile on her face as she held out her bowl to Gale, silently asking for another helping before she turned to you. “So, what are the plans for today?”

                “Well, Zevlor asked us to speak to the Druid’s leader, Kahga. Although I don’t think she’s their real leader. He mentioned a ‘Halsin’. We’ll see what she has to say. I also want to see if I can find that Githyanki that helped me yesterday, Lae’zel.” Shadowheart was nodding to your words until you mentioned Lae’zel. At this, her face turned into that of a sneer.

                “Githyanki are dangerous company. We’ll do just fine without her.” She quickly finished her bowl and stood up, retreating to her tent to get ready for the long day ahead. You sighed and turned back to Gale, who was silently eating the last of his bowl as he shrugged at you. With a huff, you stood up and re-thanked Gale for breakfast before walking to your tent to get ready as well.

---

The days after that seemed to drag on and on. Zevlor had mentioned a goblin camp nearby and with all the attacks, the druids are sealing the grove and kicking them out. So, after talking with Kahga and agreeing with another druid to find Halsin, their true leader, your group started a long and tiring trek to killing some goblins.

 You spent nearly 2 days taking out the goblins. Their leaders were the most difficult. A priestess named Gutt. A drow named Minthara. And a hobgoblin named Dror Ragzlin. Much to your sadness, they had taken hold in a Selunite temple, destroying her statues and altars. And much to Shadowhearts distaste, you had tried you best to fix one of them, kneeling and saying a prayer. You hadn’t had a shift in a few days, and each night, the moon’s brightness grew and grew. Her blessing helped you control it, but without shifting for long, you got antsy and felt the urge in your bones.

With goblin guts and blood surrounding you, your senses started to become overwhelmed. But there was one last thing you had to do before returning to the grove. Halsin. The druid’s true leader that had been captured. He was somewhere in the temple, and you had promised to find him. So, shaking everything off, your group had split up, searching different rooms before you came across one with only a few guards and worgs guarding a bear. Before you could slip out of the room, they had inevitably spotted you.

With your group split up, you were alone and outnumbered. You panicked as they rushed you and held them back as best as you could before there was a loud crash from the back of the room. The bear had broken the cell doors down and rushed to your aid, swiping some of the goblins away before shifting into a human. He must be Halsin.

“I apologize for the viscera. One should cherish all of nature’s bounty... but goblin guts are quite far down the list. Are you alright?” His voice was deep, and he towered over your frame as he helped you to your feet. You took his assistance with a huff, holding a fresh cut one of the goblins has given you on your side.

“Yes, thank you. You must be Halsin? Your grove is in danger.” Your breath was heavy, and sight blurred. You were reaching your limit for the day and wanted nothing more than to return to camp and sleep. Perhaps even under the moon.

“Yes, and I’m aware. But I cannot leave while the goblins threaten my home. I must stay here and-“ You quickly cut him off with a shake of your head.

“They’re all dead. Zevlor asked us to help take care of them so his group could safely start the trek to Baldur’s Gate.” You pointed your thumb in the direction of the door you entered through. Did the blood on my armor and cuts not give that away?

His eyes widened as he looked you over before glancing at the door. “They are? All of them? Impressive.” He paused as he processed your words fully. “Us? Are there more with you?” And as if on cue, an arrow flew between the two of you as your group entered the room.

The arrow came from Astarion’s bow, his brows furrowed as he notched another arrow. “Back away slowly, or the next one hits.” His voice held a growl and your stomach turned at his jump to defend you from a stranger. How did he know? Could he feel the pull?

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly walked up to your group with your hands up. “No, no! This is Halsin, he’s the Grove’s leader.” You motioned him over and continued your conversation. He had informed you of ‘true souls’ that were also infected with the mindflayer tadpoles. They were all lead to MoonRise Towers by followers of The Absolute.

With the promise of telling you more later, he swiftly left to save his grove. You turn to your group, specifically Astarion. “How did you know where to find me?” Please tell me you felt the pull. My goddess, please let him feel our connection.

He scoffs and waves you off. “This was the direction you headed. I could hear voices when I approached the door, so I called everyone over.” Dammit! “Now, let’s go. It smells awful in here and I’m sure we’re all exhausted.” He stows his bow on his back and walks out.

---

                When you had eventually made your wat back to the grove, Zevlor was there to greet you at the gate. “A scout has just reported. The golbins have all been taken out. I’ve taken a collection of coin for your assistance.” He held out a small pouch and a rough backpack. “As well as some camp supplies for your group. Perhaps we’ll join you at your camp tonight for celebration?”

                You grimaced. You just wanted to sleep. Having so many people in camp would hurt your ears with how tired you were. Not only that, but the moon was also supposed to be in its full beauty tonight. You wanted to take a nice run before falling asleep under the glowing moon. “I’m sorry, Zevlor. My group and I are exhausted after that camp, perhaps tomorrow night? We’ll gather some wine and make a bigger celebration out of it, yea?”

                The smile on his face dropped but he nodded. “Tomorrow then.” With that, he walked off to help his people pack their belongings into carts. Your group walked through the grove, smiling as the refugees thanked you and praised as you made your way back to camp. When you arrived, everyone retreated into their respective tents to change out of their armor and start to wind down.

---

That night, after everyone had their fill of dinner and retreated to their beds, you left yours. Looking up at the beautiful glowing moon, you sighed at the feeling of its light on your skin. Finally. What a beautiful night to run. Bless me, Selune, I shall hunt in your name.

                The woods were dark, and animals made noises all around. You had walked far from camp before finding a clearing and stretching your arms out. Feeling your bones crack and bend, you let out a groan as you fell to your hands and knees, your body reconfiguring itself. And soon enough, your body fully shifted. Your wolf was large and nearly pure white. In black, the symbol of Selune blessed your face.

                You stretched your large paws out and shook your fur. It felt great to finally be back on all fours. Lifting your snout in the air, you took a long sniff. Sure, you had eaten dinner, but if you could manage to find a good deer or boar, you could drag it back to camp the next day and simply act as if you were hunting. The wind soon carried you the scent of animals. Boar. And with the scent locked on too, you turned and took off.

                The moonlight sprinkled through the tree leaves and the wind through your fur felt like your goddess herself ran her fingers down your back. Your paws thud against the grass as you close in on the boars. It didn’t take long for you to slow, crouching as you heard the animals snorting. Peering through the bushes, you saw them. Three large boars in a group. If you were fast enough, you could take all of them down, two at most.

                Inching forward, you prepared to pounce. But as you readied your muzzle, a twig snap to your left made their head turn up before running off. Shit! You quickly pounced after them, snarling as you pushed your legs faster to catch up with your dinner. It didn’t take you long to reach them and you quickly realized one of them was slower then the other. Gotcha!

                With one final pounce, you sunk your claws and teeth into the hind legs on the slow pig, pinning it to the ground as it squealed in pain. You silenced it with a strong bite to it’s throat, ripping your head back to howl for your successful hunt. You panted as you continued your meal, the fur on your paws and muzzle coated in blood.

                Although, a breeze of wind stopped your devour. A familiar scent carried through your nose. Rosemary. Brandy. And bergamot. Astarion? Is he out here?

                Your question was immediately answered as a silky voice rang through the trees. “So. You’re the one who scared off my dinner? No problem, I’ve taken down bears twice your size.” You slowly turned your head. And there you saw him for what he was. Red eyes. Fangs. A vampire. Slave to sanguine hunger. And your natural enemy. “Ooh, what pretty markings. Too bad.”

                No. No please. My goddess, why? Have I done something to anger you? My mate is a natural enemy. He stepped closer to you, pulling his knives out and licking his fangs. “You smell delicious. I’m sure you’ll taste just as sweet.” Despite your heart breaking, it still fluttered at his words. I’m covered in pigs blood and he still thinks I smell sweet?

                Caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized he lunged forward, swinging his knives. They had barely missed you as you jumped out of the way, growling in defense as you raised your hackles and bared your teeth. “There’s a good dog, give me a good fight.” He lunged again but you turned your body into him, slamming your back paws into his chest, trying your hardest not to hurt him.

                You lowered your ears and whimpered, trying to show you meant no harm. He shook off the fall and ran back at you. As he swung again, you raised your paw in an attempt to push him away but was met with a harsh sting. He had taken the movement to lodge his other knife into your stomach before pulling it out and jumping back. You let out a howl of pain before leaping for him, grabbing his arm in your jaw, and pinning him to the ground. You brought your mouth close to his face. Your drool dripped down his cheeks and you let out a roar before jumping over him and sprinting away.

---

You had made it back to the clearing you shifted in. In exhaustion, you collapse into the grass and felt your bones shift back. Soon, you lay naked under the moon, your stomach bleeding, and your hands clutched to the wound. Tears left your eyes as you turned on your back, staring into the moon.

“Selune. Have I angered you? I have worshipped you my whole life. I rid your temple of goblins that defiled it. So why? Why have you blessed me with a mate deemed my natural enemy? Can I love him? Will he love me? He’s a vampire. If he finds out what I am, he’ll look at me with nothing but disgust.” If it didn’t hurt your stomach, you’d allow yourself to sob.

Time passed and you eyes started to drift as the tears stopped. But as your world went black and mind went foggy, a beautiful melody reached your ears. The melody your mate sung each time he spoke.

“Tav? Tav!”

---

Masterlist || Part 1

TAGLIST: @bdudette ||

#badlurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 x tav #tav reader

[glyphwrites]

Sub!Megatron and his sassy Dom Optimus discuss a scene

Have a precurser to smut that popped into my head today. I might end up writing the actual scene at some point, but I'm just way too busy rn. If i ever do, it'll go up on ao3 as a whole fic.

Despite the effects of the war and its aftermath, Megatron hadn’t had too much of a problem with his sex life. Though he couldn’t say he’d had a stable partner throughout that time, he had plenty of friends and admirers to spend time with, and left those encounters feeling perfectly satisfied.

However…

Personally, Megatron was a switch, enjoying practically any position and dynamic. There were a lot of mechs willing to let him dominate them, take control out of their servos and give them a fun time. But when it came to his own desire to be submissive, he simply didn't have the same range of options. Most Decepticons weren't comfortable with domming their leader, and those that were generally weren't interested in doing anything gentle. Which - a little rough play could be fun, but it wasn't Megatron's preference. That left his friends, where unfortunately the problem persisted. Shockwave would much rather follow his commands, Starscream had always focussed too much on degrading him, Straxus he didn't trust an inch and most of his other generals were uninterested. Strika was the only one he'd repeatedly fooled around with in that manner (technically Lugnut as well, but he was very firmly submissive), but even then they'd both been able to agree that they didn’t quite click. 

So life continued as before, Megatron feeling fairly satisfied with his various encounters but never quite completely fulfilled.

Then he met Optimus Prime. And, well, a lot of things happened. He died, for one thing. But after everything else that happened, after their squabbles were over and their alliance was solidified, Megatron had found himself falling for the mech… and eventually, falling into his berth. It had certainly been a whirlwind romance, especially considering how long it’d been since he’d had a proper partner. Once flirtations and teasing had become something more serious, and after their first few tumbles, they’d inevitably begun to talk about what they wanted from their strange new relationship. Megatron had laid out his own preferences easily, before revealing how he identified as a switch with some hesitance. He’d so wanted things to work out, wary of turning Optimus away at the thought of him desiring submission.

Megatron still remembered the grin that had spread across Optimus’ face, like the sun coming up. “Hey, that’s perfect! So am I.” Not for an instant had Optimus judged him; in fact, he’d been quite excited discussing their very first proper scene together, and just as enthusiastic carrying it out.

It’d been the best submissive experience of Megatron’s life.

He could still remember lying in berth together afterward, Optimus running a cloth laden with polish across his heated plating. Right there and then, he’d vowed to repeat the experience as often as he possibly could.

And life had gone on.

---------------------------------------------------

Once again, it’d been a long day filled with meetings, forms and petty squabble between his officers. Megatron had headed straight for his quarters the instant the last meeting finished, eager to sit with a cube of warm energon and perhaps a datapad as he decompressed. Instead, when he arrived he found that Optimus had beat him back to their shared rooms, and was now doing something with a selection of boxes on the coffee table. He glanced up as the door closed, flashing a smile at Megatron as he entered. To Megatron’s optics, his partner looked distinctly dishevelled in the way that usually implied he’d been working with his servos again. Although Optimus’ job description now mostly covered tactical analysis,  organising military logistics and fighting on the battlefield, he still often seemed to find some kind of job or task that required building things or tinkering with the guts of a spacebridge. At this point it was so frequent as to be ubiquitous, and Megatron wasn’t even that surprised at the sight.

“How was your day? I thought you’d be kept a little longer, to be honest.” Optimus straightened from his work, hopping over the scattered boxes on his way over to the door.

Megatron couldn’t help but smile at the sight, his worries melting away for the time being as he bent down to answer Optimus with a kiss. “It was perfectly fine, though you’re quite right; I managed to weasel out of my last meeting a little earlier than usual.”

Optimus laughed, slinging his arms around Megatron’s neck and kissing him back. “Well, that’s good to hear!” They stayed in the doorway for a few minutes longer, holding each other close. Megatron delighted in pressing Optimus against him, feeling his spark thrumming through his plating. 

When at last they broke apart again, Megatron glanced back at the chaos in the centre of their living area and couldn’t help but ask about it. “Are you building us some new furniture?” Optimus generally preferred to mess with machines, but he wasn’t that discerning with his projects.

“Oh! Not quite…” Optimus pulled away a little, looking from Megatron to the boxes and then back away. He smirked, teasing and smug in equal parts as he placed his servos on Megatron’s chassis “Actually, I’ve got something special for you.” He grinned up at Megatron for a moment longer, before pausing and tacking on another few sentences in a hurry. “Only if you're up for it, of course! I know it’s been a long day.”

It had in fact been a long day. But something about Optimus filled him with energy, and now Megatron couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his evening. “That sounds exciting.” He replied, catching Optimus to kiss again. “I’d certainly be happy to find out.”

The answering grin practically lit up the room. Optimus skipped back over to the table while Megatron followed at a more sedate pace, although he felt just as eager. Digging into one of the boxes, Optimus retrieved what appeared to be… a coil of braided wire? It shone in the light, iridescence glimmering as he turned it. He offered it to Megatron, who lifted and examined it carefully.

Thanks to his past exploits, Megatron had a fairly good idea of what this was. “Planning to tie me up?” He tested the shining rope between his digits, and frowned. “It’s certainly pretty, but it doesn’t look very strong.” He turned it over for a moment longer, before catching sight of the way Optimus was gesturing to him and handing the coil back.

And then Optimus grinned impishly, taking the end of the braided wire and wrapping it around his other servo, pulling it tight between them. “That’s the point!” 

Something about that mischievous grin, that cocky tone of voice, that confident stance… it did things to Megatron. He swallowed lightly, unable to move as Optimus stepped closer, giving him an evaluating look as he wound the rope between his servos. “So, here’s the deal.” Optimus was right up in his face now, so close that their chassis were touching. “I’m going to tie you up and play with you.” His tone was utterly matter of fact now, but it still did plenty to excite Megatron. He liked the way Optimus managed to dominate him despite their differences in size and age, the confident way he ordered Megatron around. Optimus pressed one servo to his chassis, drawing a circle over his spark. “All you have to do is enjoy yourself… and not break it.” He smirked even wider. “Think you can manage it?”

That was one of the other things he liked about Optimus’ style, the way he challenged Megatron. Composing himself, he leaned down, matching Optimus’ smirk despite the way his spark burned with excitement. “I dare say I’m up to the task.”

#tfa #tfa megop #precursor to smut #implied valveplug #megop #transformers animated #optimus prime #tfa optimus prime #megatron #sub megatron #these bitches gay #also sub!megatron fans rise up #spicy bites

[nanfrost]

A Schneider Scene Analysis: Her decision to do what she did at the end of Chapter 2.

For those that need a little refresher or well, a reminder to what happened at the end of chapter 2: Schneider decided to do a little pro gamer move and stare into Vertin's eyes as she vanishes into thin air.

An incredibly traumatic and heartbreaking scene definitely, and it left me in pain for days later.

But recently, someone actually asked me something that I find that to be an interesting question to answer; that being why did Schneider decided to do what she did at the end, likely knowing how traumatic doing something like that to Vertin.

For those who have always been curious to know this, or have been given an interest now that I brought this topic up, welcome! I will be giving my own interpretation of Schneider's character and the lead up to her ultimate decision to do what she did. Hope you will enjoy!

For us to be able to fully understand the context of this scene, we need to properly understand Schneider as a character first.

Schneider was someone who grew up in a large yet incredibly poor family, and aside from being the least cared for, she is also the most left out of that family; the one that never seemed to be remembered or fit in.

She shared no religious belief like they do, not the fragility and gentleness of her sisters, nor a soft heart that can take any beating given to them and still continue to struggle under the weight of the world like they do.

In other words, she was like an outsider, who besides name, didn't resembled any of her siblings or parents.

And yet, she still cared for them, more so than one probably should given the circumstances and the treatment one receives had they been in her shoes.

Schneider loved her family, cared for them, and did everything in her power to give them a life they could be at peace with. To give them a life they can be truly satisfied with living, and die with relief in their hearts.

In other words, Schneider had always been a selfless individual. A girl who will give up everything about herself to pursue happiness for those she cares for, never asking for a reward for herself. 

And we see that with Vertin as well, we see how this selflessness is reflected through her actions and words with Vertin and subsequently after her influence on her. Because Vertin absolutely did change her for the better, although, "change" might not be the right word here.

Instead, Vertin opened Schneider's heart, a heart that had long since closed off to everyone that isn't her family. A heart that is far more kind and caring than it lets on, a heart that when given the chance and the right opportunity, will flourish under the sun and blossom into something beautiful.

And we see that clearly later on once she was safely freed from Manus clutches. 

Schneider could have very well run off with Marian, to take the girl with her in a desperate search for their family again. To maybe have a final reunion before they were sifted away by the Storm. She had no real reason to keep risking her neck for these strangers, these people who she really only knew for hours, let alone a day. 

And yet she did, because Vertin had made Schneider believe again.

Vertin had ignited Schneider's desire to help, to be kind to strangers, to offer her assistance even when she gains really nothing from it. Yes, in a way, she would be helping Vertin as well, but she didn't need to be so forward and casual with it, she didn't need to be so buddy buddy and joking with Sonetto after their last interaction was pure hostility towards each other.

And yet she is, because Schneider wants to be kind, wants to be open about her mind and feelings, to not inherently distrust everyone around her anymore simply because she doesn't know them. To give herself and them a chance to connect with one another, to work together in a goal that is purely altruistic of them all. 

Because Schneider had always been selfless, and now she was given the right chance to show that selflessness to those around her.

As we move on to the final few scenes of chapter 2, we continue to see this selflessness of her, reflecting in her suggestion to ask for everyone's wishes. A suggestion that prioritizes everyone's well-being and desires beyond herself.

Yet during it, we get a small scene with her and Vertin, a scene that hints towards the finale of the arc itself. 

For as much as Schneider is selfless, she does have a desire to want something for herself. A desire buried deeply under years and years of constantly giving herself away to those she cared for, never truly being given the chance to be expressed outwardly. 

But for now, it remains only a hint of that desire, as we move on to the next scene, the scene where this hint only further grows. 

Vertin asked for Schneider's wish, something that even the girl herself seemed surprised by. Either because she truly didn't expect that someone would ask her such a thing, or she thought that nobody would notice her enough to do so. 

And here, Schneider lets herself indulge just a little more. To wish for something she never thought she had the capacity to ask for, to crave for; until now.

Schneider wishes for Vertin to not forget her.

An odd wish, a strange one, but most of all, it was a selfish wish. A wish made that will only benefit Schneider alone, a far-cry of what she has been like this entire time.

And yet, even with that wish, there was a clear restraint in her desire. Schneider had kept her identity of being a pure-blooded human a complete secret from Vertin and everyone else, because she didn't want to concern them with her troubles. To not let them worry over someone like her when there were others that deserve it more than Schneider. 

Even when she was asking for something for herself, Schneider kept this thought in mind, fully intending to bring this secret with her till the end. To not worry Vertin or the others until she finally departs from this world, her only desire is that Vertin will remember her at least, even for just a little while.

Now we move on to the final scene of the chapter, and the conclusion to Schneider's character; and also the culmination of all these scenes finally coming into play to create a finale that just hurts. 

Because Schneider had always been a selfless girl, someone who would sacrifice herself if it meant that others that she cared for would live. A girl who will bury all her secrets, all her lies and all her desires to her grave if it meant she could grant the people around her no burden from herself.

Yet even a girl like her still desires to be loved, to desire affection, to desire compassion from someone they loved. 

In the end, Schneider had kept up her front, she continued to be that selfless girl for Marian to the very end. But when her last real family disappeared in front of her eyes, leaving nothing but her clothes, a dam broke, and Schneider couldn't bear to hold it anymore.

And so she leaps into Vertin's arms, pleading for the girl to hold her. Because at the end of her life, Schneider just wants to be held by someone who cared for her, who acknowledged her as the young girl that she is; a girl who loves everyone around her, and received none back, and not the killer she had become.

In the end, Schneider let herself be selfish, the only and last time she could ever be given a chance to be. And yet even at the end, you can still see the immediate regret of her selfishness, she must have known just how badly this might hurt Vertin. Had Schneider survived, it will be a regret she will solely hold in her heart.

Yet at that moment, Schneider just chose to not think about it, to just let herself be held and be embraced by the last person she knew and had grown to care and love. To be held by someone who found her to matter. To just let herself be selfish, knowing the consequences of it. 

In the end, what she finally did was a heartbreaking and painful and a horribly traumatic move to pull on Vertin, yet at this point, after all that, can you really blame her for it? 

For a girl who had given up so much and gained so little back, is it really worth it to blame her for just wanting to feel like she mattered in her final moments, and to at least go out not having to lie to herself or to others, even if it would hurt them? To just let herself be selfish for the only last time in her life.

To die not being Schneider, but just Yelena Greco, a girl who finally found someone to love her.

#reverse 1999 #r1999 #re1999 #vertin #schneider #verneider #vertin x schneider #writing #angst #depression #god I love Schneider so much #it hurts man #schneider is so precious #don't forget her #character writing #character analysis

[saintrvckwell]

Not on my knees quite yet, but I was a fool back then (ellie williams x reader) 

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: ellie would've saved a lot of time if she stopped avoiding uncomfortable conversations

warnings: angst!, swearing, slight nsfw (kissing), ellie's being a d!ck from time to time

words count: 9.1k

a/n: the last piece i published made cry while writing so naturally (and gladly!) this one made me smile — and laugh. i'm sucker for this sort of trope and i figured i owe you something a lil happier after my previous work. i hope you didn't forget about me.

also! this si an angst and comedic gold at the same time. lol enjoy!

"did I let you down before i can make my peace? so if you're listening now, could you hear me out at least?"

•

The sun was already down, leaving the moon take its rightful spot. Your boyfriend’s touch was lingering your shoulder as you stood in his living room, mind drifting away from the conversation you were a part of just a second ago. With a polite smile on your face until you caught a sight of her.  There, on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with a cup of beer in her hand, looking right at you. More than anything, you wanted to press your lips against hers. To stop the world around from spinning. To satisfy that little desire of yours. 

Yet you couldn’t. 

Because that’s not what friends do. And that is what you and Ellie mutually agreed to be. Without realising how much of impossible quest you had given to each other. 

It wasn’t always like that. Not so long ago, staring into her eyes without falling even harder wouldn’t seen so impossible. But not so long ago, the two of you were just friends. Two people who might have been impeccably good at hiding their likings. Two people who used to spend every minute of their days with each other. But those two people truly sucked at having uncomfortable conversations. 

And somehow ended up here. 

“Is everything okay?” your boyfriend’s voice pulled you back to reality, finally breaking off the eye contact with Ellie. 

Your eyes locked, seeing a hint of concern glancing in his. Smile crept up on your lips, sending a nonverbal answers for his worried mind. 

“Do you want a beer?” he asked, offering his cup. 

“No, it’s alright. I'm going to get some water,” you shook your head. 

“Y/N?”

Before you made a single move, his hand swiftly reached out for yours, stopping you. There it was again, the concern. 

“I’m fine,” you smiled, dedicating him the most believable form of fake smile you had in store. 

And once you managed to get out of his sight, you let a frustrated sigh out of your mouth. Closing the kitchen door, you got yourself a few minutes of peace. Few minutes to sort out your shit and pull yourself together. Before he will grow more suspicious, if that was even possible. 

You were here with your boyfriend. Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about her. And those words she shared with you on patrol. 

The two of you hitting the road wasn’t something unusual. Quite the contrary. You and Ellie took almost all of the patrols together, feeling the most safest around the other. From time to time, you ended up taking a route with someone else due to Maria’s schedule system. And although the townsmen of Jackson knew their way around guns, you never felt as comfortable as when you went out with her. You knew each other’s tactics to very last detail. You worked so well together. 

Every other day, just not today. 

Due to awkwardness that’s been floating over your friendship like a dark cloud, you ended having multiple close calls. Usual encounters with runners and clickers that you would handle without a single worry seemed almost lethal this time. The miscommunication and unfinished business you’ve been avoiding for weeks took its toll on you. And had you walking home without a single bullet left in your pocket. 

“I had it under control,” Ellie muttered, anger covered in her words.

“You didn’t have it under control,” you retorted, visibly not in the mood to be having a conversation with her. 

It was supposed be a usual route to check out the stores in a town nearby. One of the shops, a book store, ended up being full of infected. Something that became absolutely normal for you to come across. The two of you wanted to clear the space stealthy, just with different tactics. Both of you went separate directions, unintentionally drawing the attention of runners with your chaotic way of communication. A second later you were quite literally fighting for your own lives with shouted insults filling the air. 

Ellie wanted to run out through a little office space at the back of the store which led to emergency exit while you wanted to go back and took the main entrance since there was too many of runners for you to handle without any casualties. Ellie, as stubborn as she usually was, disagreed with you. More specifically, she didn’t even let you express your disapproval. She simply headed back there, with your yelling echoing the room. You managed to shoot down two more runners when you heard Ellie’s sudden cry for help. 

Needless to say, the worst appeared in your mind. You didn’t know which one of those catastrophic scenarios would be worse. Ellie being dead or bitten with the necessity of you to shoot her to prevent her from suffering? Thankfully, none of those turned out to be reality as you succeeded to save Ellie in the last second. 

Lying on the floor with clicker on top of her, Ellie was trying to reach for her gun tossed in corner of the office room. Not waisting any time, two of your bullets went through that clicker’s head, drops of blood splatted on Ellie’s freckled cheeks. You didn’t even have time to give her proper shit about it. Instead of that, you grabbed the gun, pulled her up and grabbed her hand, getting both of you out of that bookstore. 

As if that wasn’t enough. Once you were back on the street, barricading the main entrance with literally everything suitable, you needed to patch ourselves up. You headed to pharmacy two stores away, hoping to find something usable. You were on foot today and Jackson was more than an hour of walk away. You opened the door, letting the guard down for a second and stepped on the glass shattered on the floor. Ellie’s scream pulled you back to reality, as well as her hand, literally pushing you out of the store. Falling on the cold pavement, you looked at Ellie firing her last shots. 

“Motherfucker,” she mumbled, putting her gun back into her thigh holster.

You spotted the clicker bleeding out on the floor. Worse than that was just that banging coming from the bookstore, letting you both be aware of the fact that the barricade won’t hold for too long. 

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as she turned to you. “Let’s go,” she walked past you. “Or do you wanna sit around and wait for a bite?” 

She was unbearable. 

As a matter of fact, that’s how you ended up fighting. Halfway to Jackson, because of her snarky attitude and your habit of not letting shit go. 

“I had it under control,” she stopped, looking right at you, fists clenched as she tried to surpass her anger. 

“No you didn’t,” you repeated your previous words — this time with much more resistance. “Because if you had it under control, I wouldn't have to jump over there and save your fucking ass!” 

“Like you’re the one to talk,” she laughed sarcastically. “Why the fuck did you go to that pharmacy in the first place? Previous close call wasn’t enough? Are you feeling suicidal today? Otherwise I can’t explain that fucking reckless decision of yours!” 

“I wanted to find us some bandages!” you explained, pointing you to multiple scratches on Ellie’s hands. 

“How generous of you,” she spoke ironically. “You’re such an idiot, truly.” 

“Am I what?” you whispered. 

“An idiot,” she repeated her words and took a step closer. “An actual idiot.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh over her affectedness. “Well, I’m sorry that I tried to help you!”

“I didn’t ask for it!”

“You’re such a pain in the ass today, seriously. We should’ve taken the main entrance as I told you—“

“Are you seriously going to turn this into a lecture?” she wasn’t even trying to hide her sarcasm. “Do you really feel like you’re in the position to be giving me shit about my bad decisions? You?” 

“What is that supposed to mean?!” you snapped, hands crossed over your chest. 

Ellie stopped for a second and took a deep breath, probably rethinking her whole dedication to have this conversation right now. 

“Nothing, let it go.” 

She responded quietly, breaking off the eye contact and getting back on the road. She didn’t bother to wait for you. In fact, you stood there for another five minutes, watching her silhouette disappear out of your sight. She arrived at the east gate without you, completely ignoring Jesse’s concerned voice asking her about your whereabouts. You arrived twenty minutes after her, not as furious as when she left you there. Mostly just confused by her words. Not in the mood to have a conversation with Jesse, who was visibly puzzled over your and Ellie’s strange behaviour. 

After that uncomfortable patrol, you headed home. Lately, it has been more than odd between the two of you. Even though you’ve made an agreement to be just friends, it didn’t seem like any side would be particularly pleased with that choice. In fact, it only made you more distant. This was just the final nail in the coffin for your friendship. 

You were so mad at her. Mad because no matter what shit she caused, it wouldn’t change the way you felt about her. She could’ve behaved like an absolute asshole, yet would still think of her. You would still give her a chance. Your feelings for Ellie weren’t leaving anytime soon. Which, in the end, made you feel horribly. Considering the fact that your affection towards your boyfriend was nowhere near the one towards Ellie. 

You already felt like the worst person after what you and Ellie did — what ultimately led to this mess. 

Obie was your rebound. Your distraction. Someone who appeared in your life, willing to give you that kind of love you desired to receive from her. And for a moment, you wanted to make this work ��� while Ellie was dating Cat. During that period of time, the two of you almost never hung out, rather avoided each other.

You’ve been thinking about it for weeks — about that night. About doing the right thing — accepting the consequences. You just didn’t have the guts to do it. You planned it for some time, yet failed every attempt to do so. But Obie wasn’t an idiot and soon enough picked up on your weird behaviour. That’s why he asked you to come tonight. To have fun with him and his friends. 

Which didn’t include Ellie. But she somehow managed to show up here and made you feel even worse. Again. 

You were aware of that poor choice of timing. Yet you couldn’t wait any longer. Appearing back in the living room, you grabbed Obie’s hand, quietly urging him to stop the conversation and head out with you. Taking a quick look around the room, your eyes met with hers. Noticing your intertwined fingers, she drew up, watching you both carefully as you fled the scene. 

Sitting on the stairs on Obie's back porch, second thoughts crept in. As bad as it might sound, Obie represented an insurance. Insurance for you that even if you can’t be with Ellie, you have someone who’s willing to give you the kind of love you demanded. And in some ways, he was your friend. Your occasional patrol partner. And you didn’t to prolong this. More than you already did. 

As soon as you let a frustrated sigh out of your mouth, Obie already knew where this was headed. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling too cowardly to look into his eyes. “I really am. I’m aware of the fact that you most likely won’t believe me, though you have every single right for it, but I never meant to hurt you. That wasn’t my intention.” 

“What was it then?” he looked up at you, confused. 

“You liked me,” you whispered. “And I thought that by giving it a chance, I could eventually like you the same way. But I don’t. And you deserve someone who will.” 

“I hope you’re not planning on giving me that heartfelt speech of how much I deserve to be loved,” he mumbled sarcastically. “You should’ve ended this right away.” 

“I know,” you nodded with your tail between your legs. “And I’m sorry.” 

“Well, I guess she’s the winner, after all,” he muttered, getting your attention. 

A confusion was drawn over your face. “What are you talking about?” 

“Ellie?” he laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re so blinded by your own affection that you didn’t notice how much she’s pining for you.”

“She’s not—“ you stopped. “Ellie’s not interested in me. Not like that.” 

“The least you could do right now, is stop lying to me.” 

“I’m not lying to you,” opposed.

“You’re just embarrassing yourself,” he laughed to himself. “Why do you think I brought you here tonight? To prove my point. And I succeeded the second I saw how you were looking at each other. Or did you really think you’re so inconspicuous? Don’t even try to tell me that nothing happened between the two of you. Even if you do, it doesn’t matter anymore. 'Cause I am done with this. With you.” 

“Obie—“

Before you attempted to finish your sentence, the door swung open, letting someone else to join your conversation. 

“There you are!” Jesse exclaimed happily. “We’re gonna play some games, are you guys joining us?” he asked curiously, overlooking the tension between you and Obie. 

Obie didn’t wait a single second. He stood up and left to room in a matter of seconds while you sat there, replaying your previous choice in your mind. 

“Are you going or not?” Jesse’s voice pulled you back to reality. 

You nodded quietly and followed him. 

“Did I interrupted something?” Jesse asked while the two of you walked through the hallway to Obie’s living room. “You guys seemed to be in the middle of—“

“Jesse, can I ask you something?” you blurred out, stopping in the middle of a hallway. 

Curiousness in his eyes served as a nonverbal kind of answer you were looking for. 

“You, Dina and Ellie went out last night, right?” you asked. 

During your morning patrol with Dina, she casually brought up their plan for the evening. She mentioned her, Jesse and Ellie were heading out for a few. She tried to persuade you to join them but staying home felt like a more suitable option for you. You’ve already declined Obie’s offer to go out that morning, when he walked you to stables. 

Jesse nodded. 

“Obie mentioned he was going out with other guys from patrol team. This might sound strange but… do know if Ellie and Obie ran into each other? More specifically — if something happened between them?”

“Hell yeah, I was actually starting to get a little worried, for Obie, of course. He made a few comments and you know Ellie. She wouldn’t just let it go and leave. They had an argument and it escalated into Maria and Tommy pulling them apart before Ellie managed to break his nose, in the better case,” he clarified. “Weren’t you patrolling with her this morning? I’m surprised she didn’t tell you. Considering how much she hates his guts.” 

Somehow, Ellie’s behaviour made much more sense now. 

“What did he say to her?” you mumbled impatiently, craving for answers. 

Jesse sighed, visibly not feeling comfortable in this conversation. “Listen, it’s none of my business. You gotta ask one of them.” 

“C’mon man!” you whined. “You can’t just leave me hanging!” 

“I didn’t hear much of their altercation. But from the parts that I caught, I reckon it was about you. It got pretty ugly for a second, before Maria interfered.”  

You were given what you had asked for, unsure whether this was the sort of answer you wanted. 

A few seconds later, you and Jesse joined others in the living room. Not many people left, mostly just guys from your age group at patrols. Majority of them, including Obie, were sitting on the sofa, except for Dina and Jesse who were snuggling on one of the chairs. And Ellie, who’s presence was somehow different this time — more pleasant. After what you learned from Jesse about the incident, you felt a bit guilty for snapping at her this morning. 

Although the reasons for your actions were justified. It was the anger and frustration bubbling inside you for the past few weeks that got triggered by Ellie’s stubborn persona and her need to have the last word. You had every single right to be furious with her, but right now — you couldn’t bring yourself to it. 

So when your eyes were struggling to find hers, minute after you appeared inside, your heart sunk deep into your stomach. You wondered if seeing you and Obie disappear was the straw for her. If this was all she needed to be done with you. Maybe she left, choosing the comfort of her little shed in Joel’s backyard. A part of you wanted to run after her. To get the answers, to stop this madness. 

Until you found her. Coming from the kitchen, she immediately saw you. A momentary smile was brought to your lips over that sudden sight of her. A momentary smile that she managed to spot and frown, confused. 

Redness in your cheeks forced you to look away and sit down on the carpet, trying hard to avoid locking eyes with her. Unfortunately for you, her steps led to the same place you took. With all the space left to choose, she still sat down right next to you, her thigh casually brushing against yours, sending shivers down your spine.  You didn’t dare to look at her, though you knew her eyes were all over you. 

When you finally took the courage to do so, your eyes met with Obie’s. The kindness was gone for good once you spotted the viciousness aimed at you while his eyes danced from yours to Ellie’s.

Then Dina offered to play spin the bottle. The four of you had your own version, mostly just forcing the chosen one to do the stupidest shits for fun. The fact that this wasn’t the silly version you created in Ellie’s house became obvious the second Obie made his turn. This version, completely followed by his rules somehow turned to be his own form of vendetta. 

Especially once the bottle pointed at Ellie. 

“Fuck me,” she cursed under her breath. 

Point of the original game was simple. The one spinning the bottle chooses the task for the selected one. Nothing's off limits and in case the player decides to refuse to finish demanded task, they have to handle a piece of clothing as a form of penalty. 

“I’m all in for happy endings,” that smile pictured over his face reminded you of Cheshire Cat. 

Ellie sighed with annoyance, definitely not having the time of her life. 

“So how about you give that best friend of yours a little kiss? Or a big one. That’s totally up to you,” he grinned, sipping from his cup of beer. Visibly proud of what he was trying to achieve. “I’ll watch it anyway.” 

For a second, you thought you might deserved to get this treatment from him. He was hurt by your actions. But not in any case, he had a single right to take out his anger on Ellie.

You stole a glance at her and noticed she was taking off one of her Converse sneaker. Without a single word, she tossed it right at him. 

Cold sweat covered your body, realising what she just did.

Obie caught her shoe, slimy grimace on his face. 

“And to think you wanted to break my nose for this,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Guess it wasn’t worth it after all. If this is what you want, then I'm happy for that sudden change of heart. But spare a thought for your best friend, she probably just got her heart broken.” 

As soon as those words left his mouth, Ellie’s eyes met with yours, noticing the slight disappointment you tried so hard to cover up. You looked away, taking a deep breath. You didn’t want to make this any more embarrassing — knowing that’s exactly what Obie was hoping to achieve. Getting up and storming out the house wouldn’t be the smartest choice considering your current reputation so you stayed. Trying so hard to avoid Dina and Jesse’s confused looks pointed at you and Ellie. 

As the rounds went on, so did the tasks. Dina and Jesse had to make-out which seemed rather ridiculous to you, considering they were doing this 24/7, mostly to annoyance of others. You sat on the floor uncomfortably, watching the two of them almost eat each other’s faces. For a second, you caught a sight of Ellie who shared mutual feelings till the moment she spotted you. Disgust was replaced with concern before you turned away. 

For some reason, the bottle never pointed at you, much to Obie’s obvious disgruntlement. Must have been a blessing in disguise that saved you from one of his vicious tasks. Ellie, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky as you. And whenever the bottle stopped at her, Obie happened to be the one choosing the tasks. The second time she was dared, he ordered her to answers how many of her girl-friends she had kissed to which she replied by taking off her other shoe.

By the time the clock turned twelve, Ellie ended up totally barefoot, losing even her socks. You couldn’t help but wonder why did she choose to stay? Knowing how much she despised him, you thought she’d leave after that first task he came up with. But she stayed, losing pieces of her clothing as she refused to give him what he wanted. 

It couldn't even be more embarrassing for you. Another two tasks ended up being somehow connected to your and Ellie’s relationship. You hated yourself for how much you told him about the two of you as it has become the perfect weapon for him to use. Making this whole night an unbearable experience for the both of you, but mostly Ellie. Who got the worst of it. 

Eventually, he ran out of ideas. So when Jesse proposed to play seven minutes in heaven — right after Ellie got most of her belongings back, he couldn’t be more pleased with that offer. Obie as per usual, had to have his own rules. He declared to be the one choosing the couples to go into his pantry. Knowing how much he was enjoying the situation, you expected the worst outcome. 

You sighed, looked right at him, sitting in the middle of the sofa, looking around to find his next target. The second his eyes landed on you, there wasn’t any pleasing result coming out of this. 

“How about you, Y/N?” he asked, fake sympathy in his voice. “I feel like you’ve been pretty neglected tonight,” he mentioned, eyes pointing at Ellie. 

You knew she was looking at you, but didn’t dare to assure yourself of that assumption. 

“How about we spin the bottle to find your—“ he didn’t even finish his sentence. 

Especially the second Ellie grabbed your hand and pull you up with her, forcing you to almost trip over your own feet. 

“No need for that,” she mumbled, not even bothering to look at him. 

Instead of that, she dragged out through to hallway, right into his kitchen. Letting the anger bubble up.

“Could you slow down?” you uttered, trying to stop Ellie. 

Though she heard you, she didn’t bother to obey. Once she reached the pantry, she opened the door and pushed you in, her hand still holding yours. 

“You do realise you could’ve just closed the kitchen door? We didn’t have to be stuck in here,” you whispered. “It’s not like he is going to get his ass out there to check it out.” 

There wasn’t even the slightest concern towards your words. Instead of that she dropped your hand, taking a step closer to you, not leaving you any room for potential disagreement. Instead of that, she filled every inch of your comfort zone with her presence, grabbed your cheeks and pressed her lips against yours. 

Without a single warning. 

It lasted a second. A second that still managed to make it feel like a lifetime. A second that brought up all those memories from that night. That night that caused the two of you to grow apart.

It was shortly after Ellie called it quits with Cat. That evening you were at Joel’s house. You and Jesse offered to help move around some furniture in his living room and ended up having a dinner with him, Tommy and Maria. And, surprisingly, Ellie showed up. Overwhelmed with everything that happened over the past few days, she decided to accept Joel’s offer to join. She initially went there for new patrol schedule Maria left at his place. But once she saw you there, she couldn’t leave. 

It was for the first time in weeks that the two of you got to talk. Both of you knew you needed to sort things out, once and for all. And Joel’s dinner turned out to be the best opportunity for it. You spent the whole dinner chatting and enjoying each other’s presence the way you used to. After that, Ellie spontaneously offered you to spend a night at her place, reviving one your oldest traditions. 

“I didn’t bring my stuff with me,” you laughed while you were standing on Joel’s back porch. 

“That didn’t stop you before,” she grinned. “I can lend you my space t-shirt.” 

Your eyes lightened. Ellie’s space t-shirt was a piece of clothing that you absolutely adored. Blue shirt with solar system that Ellie found in one of the stores nearby during one of your patrols. Both of you had your eyes on it and she offered to sort the true winner with a game. So you rock-paper-scissored it and Ellie won. Though you were still convinced she was cheating which was why she never lent it to you. 

“You mean the one I rightfully deserve?”

“Since when?” she mumbled sarcastically. “Are you gonna mention that—“

“That you cheated? Yes, I will,” you laughed. “Ellie you had paper and changed it to scissors in the last minute—“

“If I lend you that t-shirt, will you finally shut up about it?” she stopped you by stepping closer, smile dancing on her lips. 

An hour later you were sitting on Ellie’s bed. You decided to watch one of her all time favourite movies but just after twenty minutes in, Ellie confessed she broke things off with Cat. Out of nowhere, she spilled it, forcing you to stop the movie and take a proper look at her. She explained you how this was the right call and she’s okay — because that’s what you wanted to know in the first place. If she was alright. 

The two of you weren’t the most affectionate kind of friends but you couldn’t help this time. You moved closer, crossing to her part of the bed and leaned closer. Whispering a quiet sorry you pulled Ellie into a hug, knowing damn well you should’ve kept your distance considering your own unresolved feelings towards that auburn haired girl. 

This was an exception you had to make. Her hands immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer, your bodies brushing against each other. You were lying there in the darkness on Ellie’s side of the bed while her hands stayed pressed on your body parts. You felt her lingering touch on your hip and realised, now more than ever, how much you like being closer to her, physically. She was right behind you with her face snuggled into your neck and breath dancing on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. 

You knew this wasn’t what friends were supposed to do. Yet there wasn’t a single bone in your body that would pull away from this. You slowly closed your eyes, trying to keep this memory of the two of you in your mind. 

When Ellie broke off the silence. 

“I saw you around town with Obie,” she whispered. “Jesse said that you guys are dating.” 

The last thing you wanted to talk about was Obie. Obie who served as your form of escape from your feelings towards Ellie. 

“We went out a few times, it’s fresh,” you mumbled, noticing the grip around your waist has loosened. 

Cold sweat covered your body. You didn’t want to lose her, in any way. Physically or mentally. 

“I don’t know if we’re dating. Nor if I want to,” you whispered. 

“Why’d say that?” Ellie wondered. 

“Let’s just say the first kiss wasn’t something I’d want to repeat,” you uttered, hearing Ellie’s muffled laugh. 

You turned around, curious to see her reaction. A grin pictured on her face was enough for you to roll your eyes. 

“I knew he was a bad kisser,” she grinned.

You laughed sarcastically. “How the hell would you know that?” 

“Because he’s a guy,” she shrugged her shoulders. “Guys are not good at kissing. At least not as good as me.” 

“Alright, Ms. Pretentious,” you shook your head, still laughing. “I think Dina would disagree with that statement.”  

“That’s because she never kissed me,” Ellie winked at you.

A second later, the two of you burst into laughter. 

“Poor Dina then,” you mumbled, wiping away your tears dramatically. “Poor me. If only I had kissed you before I had that horrendous first kiss—“

“Wait,” she stopped you. “It was your first kiss?” that pure shock in her voice confused you. 

“Yeah, I just told you that my first kissed sucked,” you laughed. 

“But I thought you meant first kiss with him,” she shook her head. “Not that it was your first first kiss.” 

Silence settled across the room once again. 

“Man, that really ruined the whole mood,” she mumbled. 

Unbelievable gasp left your mouth. You reached for the pillow underneath you, hitting Ellie in the face. 

“Hey!” she grabbed the pillow, laughing. “It’s not my fault you have poor taste in men.” 

“Fuck you,” you frowned, turning your back at her.

Ellie’s hand touched your shoulder as she tried to turn you around. 

“C’mon, Y/N,” she chuckled. “It was a joke.” 

“If I have a poor taste in men, then you surely have a poor sense of humour.” 

She giggled, enjoying the situation. She gave it a few tries to force you to look at her but ended up lying down next to you, defeated. 

“Let me make it up to you,” she whispered, catching your attention. 

It was the curiousness that led you to turn to her face, just a few inches away from yours. The closeness between your faces was driving you crazy. Adrenalin was running through your veins the second her hot breath brushed against your lips. You tried more than ever to keep your shit together while looking into her eyes. 

“How?” you dared to ask. 

“By giving you the kind of first kiss you deserve.” 

You heart skipped a beat. 

Now more than ever, you had to hold it together. 

“I already had that one,” you whispered. 

“Yeah well, how about I give you mine as well,” she moved closer, devilish grin settling on her face. “Then, you can decide which one was better.” 

You’d be foolish to have any sort of objections. Considering the fact how much you wished for her to be your first kiss. How much you wished for her to look at you the way she used to look at Cat. How much you wanted Ellie to love you. The way you loved her. 

That tension was undeniable. Ellie slowly leaned closer to your face, the tips of your noses almost touching. She was observing every single detail of your appearance, not rushing anywhere. Even the smallest birthmark seemed interesting enough for her at this moment. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. So loved as you did the moment her lips met with yours, causing an immeasurable amount of arousal explode in your body. 

Understanding the fact that it was your first, proper kiss, she tried her best to make you feel as comfortable as possible. You always knew she was much more experienced than you which, in the end, made you feel better. Feeling that gentle touch of hers, feel her lips moving against yours. Whatever your idea was it wasn’t half as good as the reality. Reality that dawned on you the moment she pulled away. 

Still staying closer, she licked her bottom lip, letting that devilish grin back. 

“So?” she asked, already sensing what answer she’s getting. “Which one of your first kisses turned out to be better?” 

And you wanted to get back at her so badly. 

“Tough call,” you confessed.

Your words brought sudden confusion to her eyes. 

Didn’t take her long to realise what you were up to. 

“Tough call, you say?” she repeated your words, starting to close the distance, again. “Think I need another try to show you who’s the obvious winner.” 

“I think you do.” 

This time, she wasn’t holding back. Within seconds, she was sweeping her tongue between your lips, forcing a quiet moan to leave your mouth. She smiled to herself, grabbing both of your cheeks to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. You couldn’t describe any of those feelings running through your veins. A wave of arousal exploded in your body every time her tongue brushed against yours. More than anything, you were craving Ellie. Craving her touch, craving her kisses. 

One kiss turned into another and before you knew it, you were sitting right on top of her, passionately kissing her while her hands were discovering the unknown places of your skin. That night you lost almost all your boundaries. Nothing would’ve stopped you from reciprocating every single kiss of hers. Shortly before sunrise, you fell asleep with Ellie tight grip around your waist and her lips tracking every inch of your neck. 

Hoping this feeling of euphoria would last forever. 

That, of course, required Ellie not to disappear in the morning. When you woke up, shortly after eleven, Ellie’s side of the bed was empty. Not leaving a single note behind, she took off. As the yesterday's remorse was slowly taking its rightful spot, you grabbed your belongings and left her house. You were supposed to see Obie that night as the two of you planned to have another date yet it seemed as Ellie’s presence wasn’t leaving your mind anytime soon. 

As well as the unknown reason as for why she ghosted you. Though, you can’t say that your actions would be telling a different story. Not knowing how to face what you did, you accepted the same kind of tactic — pretending as if it never happened. Which, turned to an absolute nightmare. You knew doing what you did that night would’ve hurt you. But you didn’t expect that amount of madness to take over your mind. 

Every time you were patrolling together in deadly silence, you thought of that night. You thought of her lips finding their way to yours. You thought of her lingering touch sending shivers down your spine. You were screwed, more than ever. 

Especially once she stated that it was just a friendly thing. It was your first actual conversation since that night when Ellie proposed the two of you should not make a big deal out of it. A sentence that swiftly managed to break your heart and drive you right into Obie’s arms. Her words crushed you but more than that you wondered if that’s all you ever were for her. Just a friend. 

Now she was standing right in front of you, pulling her lips away from yours. 

And all of those feelings inside you were ready to explode. 

“What the fuck was that?!” 

You didn’t even bother to keep your voice down. You pushed her away, anger rising within you. 

“What do you mean?” she whispered, properly taken aback by your reaction. 

“What do you mean?” you repeated after her. “What do you think, Ellie?” 

“Alright, now I’m confused,” she admitted. “I thought that you—“

“You thought what? That you had a right to do this?” you shook your head. 

“Well, considering the look your were giving me while your fucking boyfriend was sitting a feet away—“

“Excuse me?!” you were losing all your temper. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Ellie?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You didn’t have one nice word for me this morning on patrol and suddenly you feel an urge to kiss me?”

You couldn’t believe how lightly she was taking this whole situation. 

“Thought I could win back my socks.” 

That was all you needed to reach for the doorknob. 

“I’m done—“

“No, no, no! Y/N, wait!” Ellie jumped right in front of you, forbidding you from leaving. 

You didn’t want to look into her eyes but just like any other case — no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t resist. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered — honesty in her voice.

There it was, the guilt in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry. Fuck, it was a joke,” she mumbled, all nervous. “Please, stay.” 

And you realised, this might be the only opportunity for you, to sort things out. 

So you took a step back and leaned against one of the cupboards. Giving it all one last shot. 

Ellie eased up a bit, most likely rethinking all of her previous statements. For a second, it was quiet. With her, immersed in her thoughts and you — trying to find the right approach to this. 

“Is it all a joke to you?” you whispered, wondering out loud. 

Your words forced her to look into your eyes, facing her crimes. 

“This, me and you, us. The kiss.” 

Her eyes lightened up like the stars. 

“Was it all a joke to you, Ellie?” 

And then faded away.  

“I don’t know whether you care or not but it was never a joke to me—“

“Then why were you with Obie?” she interrupted you. “If it wasn’t a joke, why did you went out with him that night? The night after I kissed you?” 

There was pain her voice, though she took a mighty effort to cover that. She did it most of the time. Ellie always struggled with her vulnerability — mostly not knowing how to handle it properly. But you could always see right through her and she knew it. 

“Why are you with him now, Y/N? When he’s acting like an absolute piece of shit—“

“Like you should be the one talking,” you mumbled sarcastically. 

Hitting the right spot. 

Ellie’s eyes widened over that sentence, not even trying to hide her pain this time. 

Which you realised, just two seconds later and let out a frustrated sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. It’s my fault he’s taking out all his anger on you.”

“I doubt that,” Ellie chucked quietly. “He was never a big fan of mine, if you haven’t noticed.” 

You caught the weird vibe from them but paid no mind. Looking back, maybe you should have. 

“I heard you two had a falling out last night,” you admitted, drawing even more of Ellie’s attention. “He didn’t told me. Jesse did.” 

You answered the implied question. 

“And did he tell you what was the reason?” Ellie asked carefully. 

There wasn’t need to bring up what you knew from Jesse. You wanted to know the truth, directly from her — that’s why you shook your head, giving her an opportunity to speak up. 

“I never really cared for him, until the two of you started dating,” she avowed. “I picked up on his hostility towards me pretty soon but until yesterday, I didn’t realised how much he despised me. I didn’t even want to go out, but Dina insisted. I wanted to leave as soon as I saw him. He had a lot to say. Mostly giving me shit for making you feel so miserable. He made it very clear you’re not available.” 

“For who?” 

“For me,” she said softly. “He told me to stay the fuck away from you, to which I asked him if he finally managed to improve his kissing skills.” 

Maybe it was the result of everything that happened today or a pure madness that forced you to absolutely lose it over that statement. Either way, it took one look into each other’s eyes for both of you to burst out in laughter. 

For a split of second, all the tension was gone. Once it again, it felt so easy. So simple. Like those endless nights in her little shed. 

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled between laughs. 

She felt relief, seeing a smile appear on your face — even more, knowing she was the reason. 

“He’s an idiot,” she replied with a grin on her lips. “After that, the only thing he could do was call me a slur and I sorta lost it—“

“And nearly broke his nose?” you finished her sentence. “Heard that part.” 

Ellie gave you a fleeting smile before she looked away, hypnotising her black sneakers. 

“Well, me and that idiot broke up,” you confessed, seeing her eyes lighten up once again. “And the only reason I went out with him that night was because I thought you didn’t want me. Not the way I wanted you. I figured that was probably why you disappeared without a single world — wanting to avoid the awkward outcome.” 

Now, she was the one in loss for words. 

“I'm sorry about what he called you at Seth's,” you whispered. “And I’m sorry for what he did tonight.” 

“He just saw the opportunity and he took it. It doesn’t matter,” Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. It never was.” 

“I know, but still—“

“Y/N, shut up, I’m serious,” she laughed. “Stop being such a people pleaser.” 

You felt slightly offended over that statement and she noticed. Just two seconds later, as soon as she saw the look in your eyes. 

“I didn’t—“ she whispered. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

You nodded quietly, still glancing at the tips of your sneakers. 

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath, rubbing her cheeks.

There it was again, the silence. And for a minute you thought that maybe this was to closure you were longing for. Just for a minute. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” 

Before she spoke again. 

“We probably already waisted our seven minutes, so…“

“No, dumbass, I meant—“

“Seriously?” you stopped her, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

She clenched her fits, taking a deep breath. 

“Y/N,” she whispered, “I meant get out of this house. I’ve had enough of stupid games and jealous boyfriends for one evening. Let me take you the hell out of this place. And fix this night while I still can.” 

She was a feet away from you, but you could still see that glimpse of desire glancing in her green eyes. And no matter how much you tried, Ellie was too hard to resist. Especially in this moment. 

A to be completely honest, you weren’t particularly keen on the idea of going back to the living room and face Obie and his bizarre vendetta tricks. A part of you already regretted going here in the first place — just a part, the rest was glad for that choice since it brought you and Ellie back together.

Ellie, whose hand was currently holding yours while she was trying to quietly sneak you out. She reached for her jacket on the hanger in the hall before she grabbed the doorknob and pulled you both out of that haunted house. Just as you crossed the doorstep, you thought of Jesse. 

If it wasn’t for him and his impolite barging in, you and Ellie might never had this conversation. You could’ve gone home. Never knowing that you could’ve found an answer. And a solution. There was a guilt in you, for not saying goodbye to him — you felt like you owed him that. 

But within seconds, you forgot about all of them. Because the only thing you could possibly think of was her. Ellie, whose hand was still holding yours as you were walking down the streets of Jackson town. You wondered if she did intentionally or simply paid no mind. You didn’t dare to ask or have any sort of objections — you were enjoying it more than you probably should. 

There it was again, that feeling of simplicity. Hand in hand in the middle of the night, you thought of all those walks you and Ellie used to take. From time to time, when the two of you had a sleepover at her house and one of you couldn’t fall asleep, you’d took the flashlight and go out. Occasionally, you even traded the streets of Jackson for the world behind the gates. 

Though, you were always very careful. You were aware of the growing tension between Ellie and Joel and knew that if one of Maria’s patrol men saw the two of you outside, they would certainly bother to share this information with him — causing Ellie even more trouble that she already had. 

That’s why you mostly took midnight walks around her small neighbourhood. Sometimes even till the sunrise. Sometimes you spent hours talking, the other days you chose the enjoy each other’s presence in silence. And when Joel and Ellie stopped talking, you took these walks nearly every day. 

You knew Ellie had nightmares. The bags under her eyes, the sadness in her face — you saw it every morning on patrol. And then she showed up at your house, at three fifteen in the morning, all sweaty and shaking. You walked around yours this time. You held her hand and kept talking. About everything that could keep her mind off that. That could keep those nightmares away. 

You always took her back home. Tucked her in and sat at the edge of her bed till she fell asleep. Waited an hour to make sure those nightmares were not coming back. Only then you would go back to your place — after you knew that she was going to be alright. After you knew she was safe. 

Ellie had a special place in your heart. And there was nothing in the world that could chance that. 

No matter what happened between the two of you. She was sitting next to you right now, on the stairs of Joel’s back porch and you knew that if she got one of those nightmares again, you wouldn’t leave. You would stay there and hold her hand till she falls asleep.

“So this was your idea of fixing the night?” you asked, squeezing the beer bottle in your hand. 

She brought you into her backyard, sneaked into Joel’s house and stole two beers from his fridge. 

“How is this any different from sitting at Obie's porch?” 

“That dick you dated is not here, that’a first bonus,” she grinned. 

“And where’s the rest?” 

Ellie couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You're really hard to please,” she laughed. “I wanted to spend time with you without risking any of those douchebags barging in.” 

“You didn’t seem to care about that when you kissed me.” 

That was a risky move. 

Ellie put the beer bottle down, taking a deep breath. 

“We don’t have to talk about that,” you whispered. “Again.” 

Though you wanted it. You wanted it so badly. To get a clear answer from her, once and for all. 

“I wanted to kiss you.”

There it was. 

“In the living room, in front of him. After what he said, a part of me wanted to just shove it down his throat. Get that fucking grin off of his face.” 

In all honesty, you struggled to pay attention to the rest of her speech after you heard the first sentence. 

“But it wasn’t worth using you. I didn’t want you to think I kissed you, because I wanted to prove a point.” 

You nearly got it.

“Then why did you want to kiss me?”

For a second, she looked into your eyes. “You know why.” 

Nearly. 

“No, Ellie. I don’t,” you whispered. “You might be surprised, but I have no idea why you do what you do. Because you never give me a clear answer—“ 

Not even bothering to let you finish your frustrated statement, she closed all the space left between the two of you and smacked her lips onto yours. 

“If you’re gonna say that this is a clear answer, Ellie, I swear to God—“

“I wanted to do this the night I saw you in Joel’s dinning room. And morning after that, when I saw you sleeping on the other side of my bed. And then again, every single time I saw you walking around the town with him," she admitted. "It was driving me crazy, because I loved you, Y/N. I love you so much. And that’s the first and foremost reason as for what I did this. Today or any other day.” 

Almost there. 

“Then why did you leave?” you whispered the only thing on your mind. The one thing that’s been bothering you for weeks. 

“Because I panicked,” she confessed. “I went out because I needed to clear my head — I didn’t know where we stand, where you and Obie stand. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should go back and if so — what to say. And when I saw you that night with him, I figured. Or at least I thought I did — until tonight.”

“You could’ve just ask me!—“

“And then what?” she interrupted you. “Was I supposed to beg you to break up with him? I felt like a selfish asshole just thinking about it.”  

And then it all got to you. Weeks of avoidance, days of sleepless nights when the thought of her didn’t seem to leave your mind. The anger and frustration that you subconsciously tried to bottle up exploded. 

Right into her face.

“You're such an idiot!” you bursted out. “Oh my god!” 

It was safe to say that this wasn’t the kind of answer Ellie was hoping for after opening up to you. Hell, this was nowhere near what she was expecting. That sort of reaction caught her off guard — that was for sure. At least according to that confusion that appeared in her eyes, leaving her in an absolute loss for words for nearly twenty seconds. 

“Excuse me?” she frowned.

“This was the moment you chose not to be selfish? You’re such a dick, Ellie!” 

In your defence, you didn’t give yourself much time to rethink those words before they left your mouth — in fact, none. The ire got the best of you, it definitely wasn’t your finest moment. Though, no one would probably dare to blame you. 

“You knew I was with him because—“

“Well, I know it now!” she mumbled sarcastically. “This is so fucking stupid.”

“Tell me about it.” 

Every time you felt like you could finally reach the end, another obstacle emerged. The frustration felt never-ending. As if the two of you were walking in circles — again and again. Till one of you finally decides to make it stop. 

“You wanna know where we stand? Well, so do I. And we’re never gonna get there if we’ll keep pointing fingers at each other,” you expressed. 

“You’re the one calling me names.” 

There it was again, the sarcasm. She was making difficult for you to stay patient. 

“Ellie!—“

“Just wait here,” whispered and within seconds, got on her feet and headed towards her little house. 

You obeyed, most due that confusion caused by her sudden resolute action. You stayed there, sitting on Joel’s cold stairs, replaying the events of tonight in your mind, till she hove into view again — this time with a piece of clothing in her hand. 

That landed in your lap as soon as she sat down next you.

“Is that…” you stopped to take a better look at it. 

Crumpled blue fabric that was slowly fading. Yet the solar system was still quite visible — enough for you be taken aback and pause for a second to process that. You needed a few seconds.

“The space t-shirt.” 

You looked into her eyes, determined to find the answer. 

“Why are you giving this to me?” 

Why here? Why now? 

There was way too many questions running through your head.

“I listened to you and I’m choosing a better moment for my unselfishness,” she replied softly. “I also might have considered that strange theory of yours…“

“Pardon me? It’s not a strange theory. I was the rightful winner from the beginning—“

“Yes you were,” Ellie admitted, nodding with a smile on her lips. 

Which caught you by surprise. The look in her eyes, the spark shinning again.

“And I’m sorry it took me so long to realise that.” 

Finally. 

“It was yours from the beginning. And if I wasn’t so stubborn and overthinking everything, it could’ve been yours long time ago. I wanted nothing more than that.” 

“I really hope we’re not talking about the t-shirt anymore.” 

All the seriousness she was building up disappeared the second those words left your mouth.

“I was trying to be romantic!” Ellie mumbled between laughs. “You’re such an idiot, Y/N.”

“Romantic my ass! That’s the second time you called me an idiot today!” 

“Because that’s who you are,” she whispered, devilish grin on her face. 

You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes, annoyed.

“Seriously, this is the worst attempt—“

“But you’re my idiot,” she leaned to you, closing the space once again. 

Again and again until her hands reached your cheeks as she pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. 

“Unless you don’t want to be,” she whispered into your lips. “My idiot.” 

“Ellie, it took you weeks to say this, are we sure I’m the idiot here?” 

She saw the sneer on your face. 

“Shut up,” she chuckled, pecking your lips. “I love you. Is that good enough for you?” 

“We’ll see. Do you have any better, less degrading nicknames for me?” you mumbled sarcastically. 

You felt her breath dancing on your cold cheeks as she slowly leaned in, ready to kiss you again. “Wanna find out?” 

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagines #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #writing #the last of us #ellie williams tlou #tlou imagine #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #fanfic #short story #oneshot #ellie williams oneshot

[romewritingshop]

Just Like Magic

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Viscount!Choso x Maid/Reader

Warning: Swearing? Threatening behaviour and use of knife

MASTERLIST

A/N: Some of you may have read this before, I just had to make a few changes in narrative and now I feel it is ready. Part 1 might seem not much but part 2 will be a bit more different. Part 3 is coming soon. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! Follow, comment or reblog, IDC because I enjoy writing this fic. Please pay attention before reading.

(Y/N) felt a tight lodge in her throat as she waited in front of the church's double doors. She adjusted the collar of the blue dress whilst her mind wandered. Finally the moment she had long awaited for had arrived. Three years and she was at the start of the fanfic she read but actually being in it was a different experience.

A gruff noise came from behind her which had (Y/N) freeze in her position. With a nervous glance, she felt blood flush from her face as a tall stoic man, with a thick small moustache, dressed in a regal purple robe. Still looking ugly and menacing in the last two years, since she had arrived in this world.

Duke Kenjaku had a cursory glint in his eyes as he examined (Y/N) from head to toe. After what seemed to be a lifetime, the Duke gave a grim satisfied nod as he stepped up to stand next to (Y/N), taking out a tentative hand out for her to hold on.

"You clean up decently for a servant girl."

(Y/N) bowed her head down, not wanting to respond to his comment. She had to tread carefully around this man, watching the doors as an empty church hall was unveiled to them; save for two men at the other end of the hall. The Duke plastered a cheshire grin as he began to lead (Y/N) down the aisle.

"I hope you remember my proposal. It would be wise of you not to turn back on your word, lest you would like to face the consequences of your actions."

(Y/N) gave a nod but he squeezed her hand tightly, expecting a verbal response.

"I remember clearly, your Grace."

If she didn't value her life so highly, she would have stabbed him to death. But right now was the start of the plot, the character that drew her in. (Y/N) lifted her head up to take a proper look at the man she was going to marry. The man with a rectangular mark on his nose, his eyes held a world of love. It felt like a stab at her heart because she knew it wasn't directed for her but for someone else he was expecting under the veil.

Her soon-to-be husband was Itadori Choso of Kaprines. Choso was a knight-turned-viscount who fought in the war against Wotrea and was relatively well known. From what she remembered about the story, Choso wanted to marry Lady Yorozu because he fell for her at first sight. However the Duke had another plan in mind hence (Y/N) was in a veil and wedding dress.

She met Choso at the altar. He politely bowed to which she and the Duke returned the gesture. He held out a gloved hand for her to grasp on as she finally stepped up to meet him, looking up to connect her eyes to his; before they turned to face the priest.

(Y/N) couldn’t tell how she felt. It had been three years since she was transported into this world. In that time, she had to quickly learn her role as a maid and integrate herself into society. Once again, she was going to have to do the same thing for she was marrying into nobility. Although the character she transported into was a reader insert so she could have any personality she wanted. And she was glad that of the Jujutsu Kaisen characters she read, she was with the one she liked most, Choso.

She faintly understood what the priest was saying and after what seemed to be an eternity the priest announced to the guests.

"If any person rejects this marriage, speak now or forever hold thine peace."

(Y/N) was tempted to speak out, to scream that she was forced into this marriage, to scream that the Duke was misleading Choso but no words could come to her throat. If she did speak, then worse was to come not just to her but her brother. In this story, Toge Innumaki was her brother. The sweet young man, who was mute in this book. She couldn’t have Duke Kenjaku hurt him. Again. Then came the dreaded words.

"Sir Itadori Choso, do you take Lady Kenjaku Yorozu of Shiuh Shia to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do thee part?"

"I do."

"Lady Kenjaku Yorozu, do you consent to Sir Itadori Choso of Kaprines taking you as his lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do thee part?"

"I consent."

(Y/N) said all too quickly and it dawned on her that they were now finally married. She now faced her husband, raising her head for him and getting ready for him to kiss her when he turned to the priest with a hushed tone. (Y/N) seemed confused, before it dawned on her that this was the exact moment that made her fall in love with the story as Choso turned back with a big smile on his face.

He stepped close to (Y/N), gently grasping her arms and leaning down to press a soft kiss on her forehead. After the kiss, he leant down to her ear to explain.

"I wish to save our proper kiss for our consummation tonight. I admit I'm afraid that I would act improperly if I were to kiss you on the lips."

(Y/N) felt her heart melt at his caring nature as she gazed at his loving expression, also surprised at his unconditional affection towards her. But deep down inside, where her gut swirled with uncertainty and unease, the affection was not meant for her. The wedding was now complete, Choso stepped down a little distance away so that (Y/N) could say her goodbyes.

"Is my brother safe now, your grace?"

"Your brother is safe. You, however, may not be. You have to pay the price once he learns the truth. After all, your job is to do as your master says."

There was a tinge of threat laced in his last statement. On the one hand, she was glad that Toge was safe but now she realises the painful part of the story that is to start. There was nothing else she could say but to accept her fate as she turned to see her husband gazing adoringly at her.

The Duke stepped away from (Y/N) to talk to Choso, probably saying some false comforting words about taking care of his 'daughter'. After a few brief moments, Choso stepped away from the Duke to go to his wife.

"We are leaving for my palace now. Your effects have already arrived at the palace."

(Y/N) gave a nod and held on to Choso's outstretched hand before being led by him to the carriage that was waiting outside. She was uncertain of what the future held for her now. One thing was certain, she was not going to play the story exactly as she read. It was an angsty story with no satisfaction for romance, but it was written descriptively well and it made her sob endlessly for days. Right now, she needed to tell him the truth whilst finding a way to not be killed.

The both of them settled opposite one another and the carriage set off. The sun was beginning to set as (Y/N) stared out the window, a wide range of thoughts running through her head.

"What are you thinking about, Princess?"

(Y/N) frowned at the wording and shifted her head to turn to Choso, who was leant back against the seat. It was at this moment she finally took a glance at his attire which seemed to make her bashful as he wore a same colour blue blazer with a white shirt and white trousers. A blue coloured shawl with embroidered blue anemones and ravens was draped across his torso and pinned to the shoulder. There were many golden thread embroidery stitches along the hem of the blazer. He had matched well with her and dressed impeccably.

He was nothing like the Choso she knew, though it was a fanfiction story. Only the personality of Choso was here and not his style of clothes that he would originally wear. It was time to forget her old life and start anew.

"Nothing in particular my Lord."

"Call me Choso, Princess."

(Y/N) felt heat flush her cheeks as she stared straight at her husband, torn to say anything.

"If you do not want to then you can whisper it to me in our room tonight."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she glanced up at her husband, who had a smug grin. He seemed to revel in teasing (Y/N) or to Yorozu. Maybe Choso and Lady Yorozu were closely acquainted. Wait no, what she remembered was that Choso had fallen for Yorozu at first sight. He didn't know what a truly awful woman she was. Her hands clenched tightly as she said nothing and snapped her head to the window.

Choso noticed this and leant forward to grasp her hand with reassurance, slightly embarrassed that he had scared his wife.

"Yorozu … I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

(Y/N) felt her throat hitch at his apology. In a few hours, he would take back the apology. Choso gave a soft smile and leant back to glance out the window, sitting in silence, as the carriage rode for three hours. It wasn't long before (Y/N) could finally see the palace come to view. It was captivating as the lanterns illuminated the palace walls and towers. It stood tall and proud as the carriage halted in front of the palace doors.

The entrance was empty save for a tall imposing man with blonde hair, dressed in black trousers and a blue buttoned shirt, matched with a beige robe. This man seemed to be important as he bowed at the carriage before stepping forward and opening the door. Choso stepped down first, exchanging polite greetings with the man before turning to the carriage to help his bride step off the carriage. Once (Y/N) got off, Choso closed the carriage door which signalled to the footman to drive the carriage down to the stables.

(Y/N) turned to face the man, who seemed to have a rather grim expression on his face. Choso didn’t seem to notice this as he rambled.

“This is Nanami. He is the head housekeeper and helps me manage the estate. Should you require anything, please ask him.”

(Y/N) gave a polite nod and smile as Nanami graciously bowed in respect.

“It is a pleasure to meet you my Lady.”

(Y/N) curtseyed in response before Choso began to lead (Y/N) inside the palace, rather hurriedly; it was certain that he was eager to spend time with her. The windows brought a glow of moonshine into the palace which made it easier for Choso to see where he was going. (Y/N) was unsure about why he was rushing and it wasn’t long when Choso threw his doors open to a large room.

It was grand and spacious with ivory coloured walls. The walls had embedded designs of arches with gold lining. There was a balcony that was large and concave shaped, a simple bench was at the front and thin gossamer curtains hung across the door. The bed was a four poster bed with pale green bed sheets and embroidered blue flowers. There was life to the room as (Y/N) stepped in to take in the design.

Choso quietly shut the bedroom doors and stepped towards his wife, clasping her shoulders and leaning close to her as if sharing a secret.

“What do you think of our room?”

It suddenly dawned on (Y/N) that this was her room. Her and her husband’s room. Her husband, who thought she was Lady Yorozu. It’s gone on for far too long and he needed to know the truth. She opened her mouth to start.

“Our room?”

It wasn’t what she wanted to say but she felt a tight lodge in her throat that refused to speak the truth. This was silly but Choso hummed as he slowly turned his wife to face him, his heart pounding against his ribs. He needed to be confident for his new wife.

“Yes. Is it not our duty as husband and wife to share a room?”

“That is true.”

“And should they not also share the same bed?”

(Y/N) felt heat grow in her cheeks as she bowed her head to look away, he wasn’t going to let her be shy when he had gained the strength to be confident. He curled a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look directly into the silhouette of her face which was still hidden under the veil. It hadn’t dawned on him that he had yet to take off her veil and to see her face in its true beauty.

“My dear wife. With your consent, may I share my body with yours? As a husband should.”

As he was saying the words, he was slowly lifting her veil up. (Y/N) felt her blood run cold and her limbs froze as she stared into Choso’s eyes. Shock settled over the both of them as Choso lost his joyful loving expression. It couldn’t be. Choso stumbled back, staying a clear distance from her, bewildered by the unknown woman in front of him.

“Who are you? And where is my wife?”

(Y/N) didn’t respond which made him snap in anger, almost lunging forward and reached behind him, pulling a dagger out and pressing the sharp edge of it against (Y/N)’s neck.

Fear began to fester in her body as her body began to convulse with short rapid breaths and her eyes welled up with tears. The cool sharp edge of the knife was pressing into the side of her neck and she was sure that if she moved, he would have easily sliced across and killed her instantly. She fucked up and didn't tell him the truth in time. Choso was shaking uncontrollably with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he began to roar.

“Where is my wife?!”

(Y/N) choked back a cry as she clenched her fists tighter.

“Choso I-”

“Don’t call me Choso!”

She blinked back tears and glanced up at the ceiling. She mustered up whatever courage she could and began trying to defend herself.

“Pardon me, my Lord but I am your wife.”

“That is impossible! I wed to Lady Yorozu of Shiuh Shia. The Duke himself gave her away to me.”

“It was me he gave away. Lady Yorozu was never to be wed to you.”

Choso could not hide his disgust any longer as he shoved (Y/N) away from him. He walked over to the bedroom door and pulled frantically at a cord which rang a bell. Within minutes, there was a frantic knock on the door which Choso swung open. Nanami stumbled in with a frazzled expression on his face. His eyes scanned over Choso before wandering over to the hunched figure that was the Lady.

He couldn't comprehend what happened but readjusted his composure to better present himself to Choso.

"My Lord, is something the matter?"

"Yes. Summon Captain Tsukumo and Fushiguro to the dungeon along with Yuuji. Also tell him to bring his interrogation tools. We need it for this wretched woman."

Nanami stared at the hunched figure in shock, almost hesitating to complete his task when Choso stomped over to the woman. He roughly lifted her up to show her crying face to Nanami, who almost dropped in shock. He couldn't believe his eyes as he bowed before running out of the room to raise the alarm.

Choso gathered both her wrists in one hand before pressing the tip of his blade at her lower back. (Y/N) could do nothing but let Choso unleash his anger on her. It's like the Duke said, she was going to pay the price. As she let herself be dragged by her husband. She kept her head bowed and it wasn't long until they were climbing the stairs down to a dark and dingy room.

It had a dreary atmosphere as Choso grabbed a set of keys from the wall, he unlocked a cell door and tossed her in before locking the door behind her. (Y/N) hissed slightly as the palms of her hands were grazed. Her dress was beginning to gather dirt as she pulled her knees close to her chest.

Two haggard voices echoed from the stairs before a bulky man and woman stood beside Choso. Both were dressed in a simple shirt and trousers whilst an expression of worry took hold on their faces. The blonde haired woman spoke first with a gruff voice.

"What happened, my Lord?"

Choso pointed his dagger at (Y/N), a bitter disdain marking his tone as both figures turned to the direction of the cell. The both of them were stunned at the fact that their commander had jailed this young woman.

"This woman claims that the Duke had given her away as my wife instead of Lady Yorozu."

Was it possible? To Tsukumo, she didn't look to be the malicious type to spread slander. Fushiguro too seemed stunned that this delicate woman had the audacity to claim that she was Viscount Itadori's wife. Both Captains straightened their posture and turned back to their commander.

"Where is Yuuji?"

At that moment, a pitched voice rang from the stairs, whining carelessly.

"Eh, calm down, I'm coming. A man like me needs a long rest to better function in the day."

A rather short skinny figure with pink hair stumbled into the dungeon, lugging behind a heavy case which Nanami was helping him carry. Yuuji eventually heaved the case and rested it against the cell bars, before spinning to face Choso.

"What seems to be the problem, big Bro?"

Choso gestured at the cell to which Yuuji turned to understand. Instead of sharing the same shocked expression the other people had, Yuuji had a curious soft expression on his face as he crouched by the cell to gander at the quivering form of (Y/N).

"Who is this young woman?"

"My wife … so she claims."

Yuuji raised a curious eyebrow as he opened up his case. His hands running over the labels of the vials and bottles.

"I see. Well, I hope they didn't treat you too roughly. Now let's see if we can get you to spill the truth."

Yuuji hummed to himself before finding a small vial with clear liquid inside. He shook the vial before pushing his palm through the gaps of the bars. (Y/N) blankly stared at the vial before snapping back to the surprisingly kind expression on Yuuji's face.

"Hey, whatever your name is, drink this vial if you want to show you're innocent."

(Y/N) was hesitant to take the vial but Yuuji pushed his hand further.

"It's a truth serum-"

A relieved sigh left her lips as she snatched the vial to drink the entire contents. Yuuji was impressed by her eagerness as he crossed his legs.

"Right, who are you?"

"My name is (Y/N) Inumaki and I'm Lady Yorozu's handmaiden."

"Okay, (Y/N), how did you become Choso's wife?"

"A month ago, Viscount Itadori sent a proposal to Duke Kenjaku about proposing to his daughter. The Duke was outraged. But he couldn't refuse the proposal seeing it would make him look bad in the noble society. So he made me take Lady Yorozu’s place and proceed with the wedding."

Fushiguro, Tsukumo and Nanami shared a nervous glance but Choso remained stoic to delve further into the truth.

"How did you know the Duke reacted like this?"

"I overheard him complaining to Lord Zenin of Chaycor. It was he who then came up with the idea to use me as a scapegoat so that the Duke could save face in the aristocracy."

"Why did you agree?"

"It wasn't by choice. He threatened to kill my brother if I didn't comply. He didn't care what happened if Viscount Itadori found out my true identity. He said that I would have to pay the price, which I am now."

Everyone else's nerves dissipated into concern over the young troubled woman. They were sympathetic to the fact that she had no choice. Even Choso felt sorry for the young woman as he still couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. He decided to ask the next question.

"Where is Lady Yorozu?"

"She is in Jotron. She is staying there so she could persuade the Emperor to marry her."

“Does she know about this?”

“She does.”

Choso’s expression became more grim and grave at (Y/N)’s answers. Almost as if he didn’t like the truth that was being spoken. (Y/N) was surprised that the truth serum didn't bring out the fact that she was transported into this world. Yuuji clapped his hands and stood up to brush the creases off his clothes.

“Right. Now that the interrogation is over, can we let her out?”

“No, I need you to do one more thing.”

Yuuji dropped his hands and grunted to himself about getting back at his older brother, Choso. Once again crouching by his case and lifting out a pouch. He pulled the strings and poured red powder out onto the palm of his hand. He turned to the cell doors with an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry (Y/N) but I have to do this.”

Before she could ask, he blew the powder right onto her face which had her bring her hands up in defence. The powder was ingested into her nose and sticking to her arms and face. Everyone stood still in anticipation as the red powder clung onto (Y/N)’s skin. (Y/N) slowly dropped her hands to also see what the red powder could do. Minutes passed but nothing seemed to happen.

Choso was confused as he gestured his dagger at (Y/N).

“Why is nothing happening?”

“Probably because she has no magic running through her veins and the truth serum worked just fine. Now! Can we take this woman out of the cell and get her washed up?”

Choso hesitated but Tsukumo stepped forward to justify.

“She’s innocent. She’s not the one to punish. Duke Kenjaku is.”

(Y/N) waited with an unsteady breath as Choso exhaled in surender. Tsukumo was right but Choso didn’t want to admit that he had made a mistake. He took a better look at (Y/N) and felt guilty at the way he treated her but he couldn’t trust her. She could have opened up to him before instead of just when they were about to - Choso shook his head and sheathed his dagger, ordering his subordinates.

“Nanami, get her set up in one of the bedrooms and send a maid to help her wash up. Fushiguro take her to the room. Tsukumo, you help Yuuji take the case to his quarters. I will deal with the rest in the morning.”

With that said, Choso stalked away and left the dungeon. Yuuji grinned and gestured to Tsukumo to lift the heavy case. He spun around to face (Y/N).

“(Y/N) sleep well, and I will meet you for breakfast tomorrow.”

Yuuji then turned away and skipped up the stairs followed by Tsukumo who didn’t seem to be struggling with the case. Fushiguro grabbed the cell keys and unlocked the door, stepping in to hold a hand out to (Y/N), an apologetic smile on his face.

“Apologies my Lady.”

(Y/N) took the offered hand and stood up carefully.

“It’s okay, Sir. I’m the one at fault for deceiving all of you.”

The two of them stepped out of the cell, whilst Nanami stepped forward to sympathise with (Y/N).

“My Lady, you should not apologise. You were simply coerced into conducting the Duke's acts. You were doing your job as a servant."

(Y/N) gave a soft smile to the two of them, glad they were able to forgive and accept her quickly. She hoped that her husband would do the same. That's what he is now. She couldn't get angry at him for the way he had treated her, she could have reacted the same as well. She straightened her posture to follow Fushiguro and Nanami. They were walking through the hallway to get to Lady (Y/N)’s room.

She hugged herself closely as the cold air hit her arms. So far she was following the plot exactly, which was not good because it meant that she and Choso were going to die. She decided to ask one of the two men.

"Sir, what's going to happen now?"

The two of them stopped, staring at each other with unease. Fushiguro turned back to glance at the Lady of the house.

"I'm not sure my Lady. However, I do know that he would not leave you stranded."

"I see. Also why do you address me as 'Lady'? I'm not a noble, I'm just a servant."

Nanami adjusted his sleeves as he addressed (Y/N)'s concern.

"Whilst you may not be a noble by birth, you have become a noble through marriage. It is only right that we address you as Lady."

"Would Viscount Itadori see me as a Lady and his wife?"

Nanami and Fushiguro were unsure of what to say. They knew that Choso would take a long time to get around to (Y/N). However, this betrayal seemed to cut him deeper. Nanami wanted to be realistic but Fushiguro cut in with an optimistic attitude.

"With time he will."

(Y/N) accepted this and both men exhaled with relief. It wasn't long when Nanami finally reached one of the guest rooms, opening the door to a modest sized room. The moonlight was bright enough to make the room clear and visible. Similar arches on the wall with a cream and pale green coloured embellishments. The bed was not a four poster bed but had similar duvets to the other room.

"This will be your room, my Lady. Bear with me a moment as I will fetch a maid for you."

Nanami was about to turn around, when (Y/N) grabbed onto his wrist to stop him going. Fushiguro quirked an amused eyebrow at the fact that (Y/N) had grabbed onto Nanami whereas the said man was in shock at the sudden contact.

"Nanami, please. Don't worry about fetching a maid. I can bathe and dress myself just fine."

(Y/N) let go of his wrist as both men clear their throats to face her. The head housekeeper took a deep breath as he tried to speak.

"But my Lady-"

"Please. I just want to be by myself."

Nanami's tired heart faltered as he exhaled deeply and agreed to her request. Both men excused themselves to let (Y/N) get cleaned up as she opened a door next to the bed to unveil a bathroom. The bath pool was on a raised dais, the taps were on the left as she pushed both of them down to let a mixture of hot and cold water fill the tub. There was a small trolley just before the bath, it had a variety of trays with dried flowers of lavender, honeysuckle and lilies. She lifted the tray of lilies and poured it into the bath, turning off the taps and undressing herself whilst the flowers steeped in the water.

As she sat in the bath, she all but hoped that Choso would allow her to stay. She did not want to create a chain of events that brought hers and Choso’s death early. When she read the story, it ended really poorly with the reader dying to a dream of Choso in her arms. This time she was going to change things where she earnt his love and did whatever she could to prevent their deaths.

#au #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #choso #choso kamo #choso kamo smut #historical au #jjk choso #jjk kamo choso #kamo choso #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #kamo choso jjk

[aphroditeslover11]

Exam Shenanigans

Oppie x Reader

Summary: Oppie helps you through a tough exam.

A/N: My first time writing anything so please be kind. Lloyd is totally fictional, as is Oppenheimer in this as he is mainly based on Cillian Murphy’s portrayal. If you like it please feel free to get in touch.

It was just a regular evening, Robert had been working at the university as usual and had just got back to his house in Shasta road, hoping that he’d just be able to have a quiet evening in, maybe get on with a bit more of his current paper or discuss the new book that you’d been reading together. Instead he walked through the door to darkness. The house seemed empty until he reached the living room where he found you, single light on in the corner and hunched over, seemingly heaving.

“Y/N, are you alright darling?” he asked, switching on another light before making his way over to you. It soon became clear that you had been crying, leaning over a book that you had been trying to read through your tears.

“I’m fine Robert, nothing that you need to worry about.” Not satisfied with your response he adjusted the cushions of the sofa, sitting down beside you. He wasn’t always the most sensitive to the emotions of others, but he could at least tell when you were lying to him.

“Love, you’ve been crying, something must be wrong.” He noticed then that you were moving to hide the book down the side of the sofa. “Was your novel sad, unhappy ending?” he pushed a little further. You just shook your head at him, still silent, as if speaking would set you off again. “What is it you’re reading anyway?” With that he gently reached across you, taking the book from your grasp and noticing your brief reluctance to release it. As soon as he saw the title he understood why you were crying: ‘A Comprehensive History Of The Late Western Empire’, a history textbook.

As soon as you knew that he had seen it you started to explain. “My professor set a surprise exam on the Roman Empire and I don’t know anything about it. We were meant to be doing the French Revolution when I took the course, but he changed his mind on units last minute. ”

“I’m sure we can sort it out, you don’t need to be so upset love. Who’s your professor? Maybe I could pull some strings and get you transferred.” he said taking you into his arms, the reassurance driving any tears away. You were a student at Berkeley, having met Robert through friends at a social event and quickly falling for him. After a period of dating your accommodation had fallen through and he had insisted that you move in with him. It was fast, but you stayed over half the time anyway, so it made sense.

“Lloyd, but I don’t want to transfer, he already doesn’t like me and I don’t want it to look like I’m giving up.”

“Lloyd wouldn’t do anything for me anyway, hates my guts, that’s probably why he’s difficult with you.” Although Robert loved it at Berkeley and was friends with half of the faculty, he didn’t get on so well with the other half, who openly hated anyone with his kind of politics.

“Well then, there’s only one other solution, we’ll have to work through it together.”

“Robert, I love you, but the exam’s in a week and I have no idea what’s going on, all the people in that book have the same bloody name. What do you know about the Roman Empire anyway? You’re a physicist.” The man chuckled slightly at that remark, lightly stroking your hair to relieve your angst.

“You happen to be very lucky, because one of the classes that I took when I was at Harvard was history, and I happen to have read all 3,000 pages of Edward Gibbon’s ‘Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire’. I might just be able to remember a thing or two.” Robert really was unbelievable sometimes, you just had to hope that he had the knowledge to face the challenge as well as the cockiness, though he usually did.

The next week was spent with your head in and out of books. Robert would borrow books from the Berkeley library whilst he was at work, bringing them home to you. He spoke to a friend who worked in the history department who gave you some pointers on what to focus on. By the end of the week you weren’t perfect, but you knew a lot more about Rome than you used to, thanks at least partly to Oppie’s efforts. He drove you in on the day of the exam, smiling at you softly as you went through some last minute notes from the papers sat in your lap. He delivered a chaste kiss to your lips, offering reassuring words as you left the car, ready to face the music.

~

Five days later you came into Robert’s office at the university, interrupting him grading papers, but he would always drop everything for you. He looked up to see you waving an envelope in your hand.

“We got the grades back today, but I couldn’t bring myself to it open without you.” He extended an arm to you, scooting his chair back so that you could situate yourself in his lap.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” he asked once you had yourself settled, handing you a letter opener. Nervously, you took the proffered tool, ripping across the top of the envelope in one swift motion. Pulling out the piece of paper, your eyes immediately went to the letter written at the top of the page. A.

You immediately jumped from Robert’s lap, squealing in happiness. He was reserved as ever, though his face broke into a wide smile once he saw the piece of paper that you had dropped in your excitement. He stood up to join you in celebration, pulling you into his arms before planting a firm kiss to your lips.

“I’m so proud of you love, I knew that you could do it.”

“Not without you Rob, you’ve been a godsend this past week.”

“Have a little more faith in yourself love. But forgetting everything else, what do you say to going out to celebrate? Maybe grab dinner and have a couple of drinks?”

“That sounds wonderful Robert,” you replied, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

#1950s #oppenheimer #american prometheus #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #exam season #oppenheimer x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #j robert oppenheimer #tommy shelby x reader #christopher nolan #fanfic

[antennaed-shidou]

A Cheat

❆ Eita Otoya x f! reader

❆ Warning: not prof-read,

❆ Misc: Word Count: 900+ 12 days of Christmas special with the Blue Lock Boys. 6/12 days with he needs more screen time Eita Otoya. Hope you enjoy it.

❆ In which you caught your boyfriend cheating.

“What do you mean he's cheating?” Crystal asked {Y/n} as she took another sip of her coffee. 

“I have this gut feeling. I don’t know what it is. But something feels wrong with him,” She responds with a heavy sigh at the end. 

“Yeah whatever you say, girl. Just know he does love you even if he doesn’t say it much. Otoya would never cheat on you.” She shook her head putting down the cup of coffee.

{Y/n} rolled her eyes, “Really, Crystal? Why are you on his side anyway?”

“Because I know he loves you,” She replies plain and simple

“Sure, but he's probably said that to every woman he's dated. I'm most likely just another one.” {Y/n} couldn’t believe any word her friend was saying. She knew about all of Otoya ex’s and how he treated them. All the cheating and half-assed relationships he’s been in. Along with the woman way more beautiful than her. 

{Y/n} was just another one to add to the pile of average exes and past relationships he would forget in the long run. “I’m going home, Crystal.” The [h/c[-haired female got up throwing away her trash “It was nice to see you again. Bye.” She waved at her friend before she left the cafe. 

Crystal sat there letting out a long breathy sigh. She knew what {Y/n} was trying to do. But she couldn’t stop her so what was the point in trying? Might as well enjoy the coffee and desserts.

{Y/n} got a ride home. When she arrived she found that the door was locked even though Otoya was home. Lucky for her she had the extra pair of keys to get in. 

She carefully and quietly walked into the house trying to find anything suspicious. In the end, though she had found nothing. The female still had speculations about her boyfriend cheating, she knew he could be good at hiding it. 

Otoya was sitting in the living room watching some TV. although most of his attention was on his phone. He was scrolling through Instagram looking at who knows what. His girlfriend didn’t care all too much what he did and what was looking at. The only rule he has is not to cheat on her and if he didn’t love her then he should just break up. But he did love her so why would he want to cheat and break up with her?

“I would never cheat in you, {Y/n}. I love you. I love you like no other,” Otoya pleaded, but he wasn’t lying. Everything he was saying and was going to say is true and from the heart.

“Sure you are. You’ve probably said that to every other woman you’ve ever dated. I’m no special.” {Y/n} huffed and shouted. But all this was coming out of her mouth because she was afraid. 

“You are special that’s what you don’t understand. I truly love you {Y/n}. I only promised to marry you no one else.”

“Oh, please. Don’t sugar me with lies. It’s sickening.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t have to guts to tell a lie to you. I’ve only said that to you. I’ve only said I’ll marry you.” He begged and begged for her to listen. 

She crossed her arms, “So what about it? Why are you bringing such things up?”

“I’ve only promised to ever marry you. No one else would satisfy my needs.” He reached into his back pocket. “Even ask Crystal. She’s been helping me with everything.” Otoya slowly got down on one knee, “Even picking out the ring.” He opened the small box showing a nice size gold ring, “So will you marry me?” Finally, he popped the question he’s been waiting to ask for so long. 

{Y/n} was rather shocked, to say the least. “Really but all this makes no sense.” Otoya was confused by her question. “You’ve been avoiding me. Hanging around more women don’t think I didn’t notice. And even Crystal thought you both didn’t like each other.”

Otoya was still on one knee as he was explaining everything to calm her suspicions. “I wanted Crystal’s advice on the ring and what you would like. The reason I’ve been avoiding you is so I don’t spill the secret.”

“Ok,” {Y/n} spoke, “But that doesn't explain the extra women in your story.”

“They were for extra help on planning, it was their job and I paid them. I promise. I did all that and spent all that money because I do love only you {Y/n}.” Otoya said every word was true not one single fault.

“Then get up off your knees and kiss me, Otoya,” {Y/n} says pulling him up by his collar lifting him from the ground, and interlocking a kiss with her new and only fiance. 

Otoya was quite surprised when she did that. I mean she was bold, but that was bold. He broke the kiss putting the ring on her finger. The two touched their forehead as she looked at the gold engagement ring. “By the way, this is one of your Christmas presents.”

“Then what’s the rest, big boy.” She spoke softly putting arms around his neck pulling for another kiss. 

“Why not go to the bedroom and I can show you a few more.” Oyota gave her another kiss then carried his fiancee into the bedroom dropping her off on the bed. Showing her a few more gifts for the night.

a/n: whoa love sure makes you do crazy things. Crazy enough to make you marry someone. Follow my other account, Wattpad: Antennaed_Shidou

#fanfic #blue lock #bllk #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #mk. oneshots #mk. blue lock #otoya eita #otoya x reader #bllk otoya #bllk x reader #bllk scenarios #bllk x you #christmas special

[madschiavelique]

Hello! May I please request Miguel head cannons with an asexual! Reader. Both romantic and platonic. I don’t feel like reader needs any specific pronouns so they/them are fine. Thank you so much!

HI ANON

I took more time to write this one because i wanted to make sure i would give correct representation ! i talked to my bestie @gollygothgal so that she might help me on this and tried my very best ! i also tried to learn more on the subject with this video right here

PLEASE if you are ace and you feel like you have not been represented properly in this i beg you to tell me, misrepresenting you is the last thing in the world i would ever wish for

word count : 757 words (without vocabulary)

headcanons : Miguel x asexual!reader

Platonic :

when you came out to him, you had to properly explain to him what this meant

because although this man is very understanding, he also doesn’t know much about sexuality and gender (you also had to explain to him about gender, be patient with him because he’s trying very hard to understand)

the man made EXTENSIVE research on the matter, asking Lyla about articles and historical events as well as chemical explanation just to be sure to understand you and respect your orientation

once he understood what it was exactly, he bought you an ace bracelet so that you could go around the society without being bothered, but also so that you could be sure that you were in a safe environment that respected your sexuality and identity

you might’ve gotten anxious about the possibility that he would’ve looked at you in a different way when coming out to him, but this man just dearly wants you to be honest with him so that he can be sure to never ever make you feel uncomfortable in any sort of way

at this point he knows everything about the subject, to the extent that he might even know more than you on it

if you’re (aro)ace, he might try and strangle any person that annoys you the slightiest bit on the subject of your sexuality

someone actually once compared your sexuality as “just being single” and Miguel was so about to braid their veins

“yea I’m just like you I don’t want to have sex this year” ← the person who said this ended up to the hospital

he heard about a sort of inside joke in the community of asexuals about them loving cake, so he buys you some occasionally

he is curious though about how your life works with that, but will only ask questions if you assure him you’re comfortable on this subject

romantic :

first of all, he is very respective of your sexual orientation

once, you felt bad about not being able to satisfy him sexually, and wanted to at least try to do something for him

but it made you way too uncomfortable and had to stop

Miguel was not disappointed at all, far from it, because you had tried your best and he loved you no matter what

he spent his whole time after that event comforting telling you how it is okay

because this man is grown alright

he knows that love is not only about sex, and that sex is just a part of love. things like trust, respect and communication are much more important to him than carnal stuff

he knows that you love him, and that’s all that matters to him

one of this man’s love languages is touch, and whenever he touches you, he has to hear from your own words that you are okay with him touching you even if it’s on regular places of the body like the waist for instance

once he accidentally touched your butt = the man apologised and felt bad for the entire day because of this no matter how you told it’s okay

you were worried that miguel would want to stop dating you as soon as he learned you were asexual, but not at all, because you had not built your relationship around sex, you had built your relationship around each other, and that’s what mattered to him the most

if you do like cuddling though and maybe are heteroromantic, this man will never get his hands off of you (he will also kiss you at every given moment because kisses are the “I love you”s of he body after all)

if you’re a grey asexual/sex positive asexual, he really wants to be sure before doing any move that he has your written consent

if you’re a repulsed asexual, he is completely understanding

if you’re demi-sexual and bond enough with him to have sexual attraction developing towards him, he’ll fly through the roof

if you’re autosexual, he is completely okay with that and gives you room and space for this (will even leave the house/quarters to make sure you can have this time for yourself)

if you’re acespike, he’ll waste NO TIME like- he’ll really be there on the minute for whatever you want to do

if you’re quoisexual he will be incredibly patient and of course understanding. He knows it can be hard sometimes to identify your own identity and will support you no matter what

if you’re caedsexual, and you tell him how and why, he might cry and never let go off you because he feels extremely honoured that you felt trusting enough towards him to tell him your story

vocabulary :

gray asexual : they experience some sexual attraction though it may be rare or mild, inconsistent or irregular

demisexual : they experience sexual attraction only after a very close emotional bond is formed

autosexual : they feel sexual attraction to themselves as opposed to other people (like preferring masturbation to sexual activity with a partner)

ace spike : will usually experience no sexual attraction but may sometimes have sudden very intense spikes of sexual attraction (these usually last for short periods of time before returning to feeling no sexual attraction)

quoisexual : describes a little bit of uncertainty or confusion as to your identity on the asexual spectrum/can describe someone who doesn’t really understand sex or sexual orientation as it relates to themselves – they also sometimes don’t see the importance in defying it

caedsexual – describes someone who once had sexual attraction and no longer does, especially people that have had negative sexual experiences in the past or ptsd that contributes to their lost of attraction

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #atsv #atsv x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #asexual reader