#blinking once in a while is a concept I should consider

[bubblegumflavor]

Uhm.. yeah, I spent all day making a fake vintage lawrusso sticker sheet.. ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

#lawrusso #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #the karate kid #cobra kai #edit #collage #photo edit #fanart #my eyes burn from staring at the screen too long lol #blinking once in a while is a concept I should consider #ralph macchio #billy zabka #william zabka #not all day tho I made another edit first but then I was in a mood lol #this was fun #lawrusso edit #tkk #karate kid #karate kid edit

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Remember that time Azul told mc for her birthday that he will grant one wish free of charge ? Time to take him up on that ! Mc wishes that he would teach her how to make potion that would turn her into mermaid and for them later to go for a swim together ❤

pleas make Azul into his octopus form🥰 Ik it may sound weird but I would love it if he held her in his "arms" cuz she was getting too ahead of herself or smf😂

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul had a feeling he would regret this.

Making a mermaid potion in reverse, AKA one that would turn the potion’s target into a merperson rather than into a human, wasn’t complicated to create. Well, not for him at least, but it still took up valuable materials that NRC might not be so willing to part with. Regardless, it had been a risk he weighed when he first made the deal, knowing if you pulled through he would have to keep up his end of the bargain regardless of the costs. He figured that it would all turn out even once you did what he needed you to, but in the end, it proved to be much more stressful on his end regardless of all the fruit your efforts bore.

He was only going to observe from afar, warning you of the potions limitations and the effects it might have on your body. He had considered roping Jade or Floyd into teaching you how to move or swim properly, as often these potions didn’t conjure up octopus merfolk, but there’s something that tugged at his heart and made him turn the other day. The concept of the twins in the water, teaching you how to move, getting to be close with you in an intimate setting where you’re putting your entire trust into them not letting you drown or flounder if a real predator would pop up—

It left a bad taste in his mouth, but he would simply have to do. He’s in the water waiting when you approached the private beach area, behind a vacation home his mother had purchased on land for when she wanted to call on him. He kept his lower body hidden beneath the dark surface of the water but it was much harder to do after you had dived in, eyes open and taking in the beauty of the ocean that rested just out of sight in your day-to-day life.

Azul understood the appreciation for something new, while he had heard and learned many things about land culture before getting to actually attend NRC, he was still filled with wonder of how different things could be. He had hidden his curiosity well but he had absorbed every ounce of knowledge he could once he stepped foot on the surface, something he saw you trying to do now that you could see this unknown world right before your very eyes.

He’s thankful that he’s as quick as he is, watching the side of your tail get caught in a riptide; most merfolk were warned about them when they were little, as while the concept of drowning wasn’t in their wheelhouse it could sweep a little one so far away in the blink of an eye that they’d be lost and vulnerable. You weren’t small like a child but you also weren’t an expert swimmer, and he saw the way your body twisted as you tried to figure out why you weren’t moving the way you wanted to.

“Come here.” It’s a command that you couldn’t listen to even if you wanted to but you feel a tentacle slide around your waist, trying not to giggle at the suction cup that stuck to your skin as Azul pulled you to safety. Now that you looked a little closer you felt like you could see the change in direction within the water, looking back at Azul with an amused smile.

“Whoops.”

Azul sighed, releasing you from his grip though you seemed fascinated with him now. He had been the least interesting thing in the water up until that very moment, at least in his opinion. Now that your eyes were looking him over for the first time he felt weirdly vulnerable, missing the way clothes could offer a buffer from prying gazes (to at least some extent). He glared at you, considering if he should let the ocean take you away before you turned to watch some colorful fish dart by.

He wouldn’t be doing this again any time soon, regardless of how beautiful you might be inside (and outside) the water.

#Twisted Wonderland #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Disney TWST #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #scenario

[sunshinescribes]

Sanctuary

Pairing: Dracule Mihawk x Fem!Reader

Part 2 of this fic

Rating: None

Warnings: Pining, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Soft!Mihawk

Mihawk wishes he could make you stay.

If only he were more convincing, less prideful, perhaps he could speak the words he holds in his heart. Within him is a chamber of contained confessions, a world that exists purely for you, and the voices within rage and plead. Do not let her go. Do not let her leave us again. 

But he will. 

You run, and he lets you.

Even if Mihawk split open his chest and handed you his still-beating heart, you would flee. You’ve done it all your life. Slipping between forgotten towns and unknown islands. The concept of home is foreign—belonging, a myth. 

Every place you have ever escaped to has called itself sanctuary, and every time it was a lie. Even Kuraigana Island.

Even him.

Mihawk considers you as you rest beside him on an uncomfortable cot tucked away in a tiny room at the back of the tavern—a room that appears to house you for the time being. His eyes fix on your face, spellbound by that rare, delicate softness that graces your features—a momentary repose before you wake and the world becomes ugly and unfair once more. If Mihawk tries hard enough, he can almost convince himself that you both are back behind the walls of his castle, curled comfortably in a bed large enough to sleep an entire family.

He had loved you most in those predawn hours—how your hands would move instinctively in your sleep, drawing him closer until you both were chest to chest, heart to beating heart. You would bury your face in his neck, inhaling softly as if you needed to breathe him in, and feel his essence in your very lungs. 

Nothing could take him away from you in those moments. The walls of the castle could crumble around him, and Mihawk would still refuse to stir—refuse to be separate from you. 

It had been so lovely, so right…and then he went and did the one thing you could never forgive.

A heavy sigh leaves Mihawk, thinking back on that ruinous day. He should have known better; known the news he was about to share would bring devastation, but he had been blinded by hope and compelled by a fear that haunted him like a tortured soul. 

Mihawk doesn’t want to remember, but the image is forever burned in his mind’s eye. You, nestled comfortably in one of the castle’s many alcoves. Sunlight streamed through the window like holy light, making you the image of divinity. He had called to you softly, and you stirred, prying a single eye open begrudgingly, nearly on the brink of sleep. 

He had lowered himself to the ground, brushing his knuckles against your cheek while playfully chiding you. Your frustration faded quickly as you leaned into his touch, wordlessly demanding a kiss.

Mihawk had been all too happy to oblige, tenderly pressing his lips to yours. He muttered soft words against your mouth—I have something to tell you. 

You had been so unsuspecting, completely at ease, running your finger along the line of his jaw, softly brushing his trimmed beard in a way that made his eyes flutter.

God, he should have just pulled himself into the alcove with you. Crowded into that tiny space and drew you flush against him. He should have whispered against the curve of your neck until you drifted back to the land of dreams.

No. 

It needed to happen the way it did. Even if the image of you pulling back from him suddenly still snags his heart. You had blinked at Mihawk in disbelief when he spoke his next words, as if perhaps you had imagined them—it couldn’t be true; he would never align with the World Government. He would never...

But he did.

They had requested him many times before, but Mihawk had never cared for their offer. He did not fear the marines nor the World Government, and he certainly cared little for the overzealous fools that threw their weight around like children on a schoolyard—the self-important government dogs, warlords of the seas. 

Mihawk had not thought much of it until he had you.

Your bounty posters became a cruel warning, promises of death. Mihawk rarely ever considered his own mortality, but yours haunted him, and his nightmares began to paint tortuous scenes—Mihawk pushing through a crowd that watches with wicked fascination and contempt as you kneel at the execution platform. He calls your name in his dreams, but you never react. All that cheer and fire is stripped from you. Mihawk moves as if wading through water, every step heavier than the last, and he knows he can’t reach you—can’t lift Yoru fast enough to turn the platform into splinters. You are going to die, and there’s nothing he can do. 

The nightmares bled into reality, no longer a possibility to consider but a matter of when. Better pirates that you and him had fallen at the hands of the World Government. 

And so he turned to them finally and agreed to do their bidding, even if he had no such intentions. His immunity would shield you both. His title would be a warning to bounty hunters and marines alike. If you seek to ruin my peace, you will die by my blade. 

Mihawk had expected your apprehension, but he never anticipated your rage. Eyes that had once looked at him fondly now regarded him as if he had pierced Yoru through your heart and swore to drag you to Impel Down. Your words turned viscous, laced with venom and fury and pain.

And all at once, the serenity of a love you both shared had shattered. You left as if you couldn’t stand to be in the same space as Mihawk and swore you could never love him—never share a life with him, not when he served them.

Mihawk blinks through the memory, tries to force it far away, but it’s impossible while you’re sleeping so peacefully beside him, making him painfully aware that he is lacking without you—that the feelings he thought he had mastered had only been lying dormant, waiting for you.

You stir suddenly, a soft sigh escaping your parted lips as your eyes slowly open. You blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the soft light that pours through the windows of the neglected tavern.

You stare at him, the fog in your mind slowly clearing. Mihawk watches as your brows pinch together and a dissatisfied groan leaves you. 

“Fuck…I thought that was a dream.” 

You try to sound displeased but your voice is soft with sleep.

“Disappointed?” 

You catch the faintest hint of teasing in his voice, so quick and controlled that you almost mistake his response for a genuine question. Mihawk knows you aren’t disappointed—you’re panicking, desperately scrambling to rebuild the wall in your mind that makes it easy to act cold and indifferent. Without it, the playful insults and snide remarks die on your tongue. 

“I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with this.” You lift to a sitting position, fixing your gaze on a tiny crack in the wall to keep yourself from looking back at Mihawk. “I hoped, anyway.”

You feel his sharp eyes considering you in a way that you aren’t sure you can take right now. All this attention and newness makes you feel like a caged animal in need of escape. The creeping unease serves to spark the fire within you, hot flames raging with a need to scald.

"Are you sure you can even be here right now?” You attempt to sound genuine, feigning a curious look as you glance at Mihawk from over your shoulder. “Won’t the Admirals miss their favorite errand boy?” 

You expect that quick flash of fire in his eyes—the bitter twist of his lips that tells you no more honeyed words will pass them. You can navigate that easily; taunt him until he’s shuffling out the door and you’re swearing to yourself that this was the last time.

Mihawk scoffs, but it’s light instead of sharp with malice, more akin to a laugh than anything else.

“I suppose they wish they had such power over me,” Mihawk muses softly, “but no one does. No one but you.”

You blink dumbly at Mihawk, too blindsided to respond. You want him to argue, not pacify—to meet you head-on with the same amount of fire, bite back in a way you know he’s capable of. Make it easy for me to leave. Make me hate you again.

It startles you how quickly you realize that he won’t. You had asked him to kiss you, knowing what it would mean for Mihawk to do so. You had whispered your hatred, fully aware that Mihawk would understand the true meaning behind your words. Both of you had thrown caution to the wind, fully aware of the consequences. You could run as you always do, but Mihawk wouldn’t make it any easier for you, not this time.

“We always would have ended up here,” Mihawk starts, as if reading your mind. “Neither of us is capable of letting the other go.”

You let out a mirthless laugh, furious at how right he is. You two had only ever been lying to yourselves, trying to push away feelings that refused to be denied. The connection between you is inseverable, no matter how hard you scrape and scream. Mihawk holds your heart in his hands, just as you hold his.

“I can’t come back to you Mihawk.” Your voice is low, barely a whisper. You feel worn to the bone, so fucking tired of this charade. Honesty is…terrifying, a vulnerability easily exploited, but there are no lies to tell that will soothe your scarred heart. “Not now. Not…”

“While I’m a warlord,” he finishes for you.

You nod, detesting the lump that forms in your throat and the way your eyes burn. God, you despise the World Government. If only your fury could give you the power to wage war on Mary Geoise and destroy them. Everything you’ve ever dared to love has been taken by them. Your true home. A life you could have lived. Mihawk.

You feel the softness of his mouth against your shoulder suddenly, a small comfort that has you swallowing a sob. 

“I didn't do it to hurt you…” Mihawk admits, pressing another kiss on your warm skin. “But I hurt you nonetheless.”

You feel the apology searing into your skin—words that much like you, he can’t speak. I’m sorry. Sorry I hurt you. Sorry I’ll continue to. 

A rough finger brushes against your cheek, drawing your attention back to Mihawk. You blink, your eyes falling to his lips, as Mihawk lifts his head from your shoulder. You feel your heart seize when you meet his eyes. There it is again. That look of worship—fierce affection, as if you burn brighter than the sun.

“Mihawk—” your voice trembles.

He captures your lips before you can say another word and kisses away the agony that tries to tear you to shreds. Mihawk is gentle, delicate in a way you don’t think you deserve, and you find that you’re grateful for it. Happy he can’t see the tear that rolls down your cheek.

I didn’t do it to hurt you.

You know. Mihawk is many things, but not cruel. Never cruel. You knew the day you left, but it didn’t matter. Your hatred of the World Government is vicious. All-consuming. You can’t see past it, no matter how much you wish you could. 

“You can run. Hide,” Mihawk whispers against your lips, “But don’t pretend you hate me. Not again.”

You hear the masked plea. Mihawk had spent months wondering, hoping like a fool that you still loved him. It’s impressive how well you shield your heart, hiding behind your quick wit and sharp tongue. Last night had been the first time since you’d left that you dared hint at the possibility that your heart had not abandoned him. The thought of being pulled back into the unknown is worse than any punishment you could impose on him.

“Don’t break my heart again,” you retort, leaning back into him. You think you hear Mihawk say never, but the feeling of his lips on yours again robs you of all thought. It’s agonizing how slowly he kisses you—takes his time tasting as if you two have all the time in the world. 

Tomorrow you will be long gone, little more than a sweet memory he’ll hold in the back of his mind as he ventures home, but you’ve given him the one thing he thought he’d lost forever: hope.

Not now. 

But someday. 

Mihawk is a patient man. He can await the day he’s able to find you one last time, not as Hawk Eye or a warlord of the seas, but as Dracule Mihawk—the solitary pirate. Marine hunter. The freest and fiercest man in the world, bound only by his love for you.

divider credit: cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x y/n #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #x reader #tumblr got it first cause AO3 is down lmao

[wardenparker]

The Viper's Bride - ch 10

Oberyn Martell x female reader x Ellaria Sand x OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

The second Prince of Dorne has lived under the illusion that he would not be forced to wed for his entire life. He has enough lovers and illegitimate children to make him a legend across Westeros, and the love of his soulmate Ellaria Sand to content him. But a contract between his brother and a lord from the north will catapult him into a match that may prove to be as complicated as it is intriguing. Especially when he learns that you already have a soulmate of your own.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 11.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: terrible parents, age gap 10+ years, arranged marriage, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, internalized homophobia. Reader is described as having hair long enough to braid* Fluff and intimacy, blink and you'll miss it pregnancy kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, bath sex. Brief mentions of physical pain and past abuse (parent to child and spousal). More secret keeping. Summary: An unexpected development could change everything - but will it be as good a change for everyone as it is for some? Notes: Tumblr is rejecting any effort I try to put into editing my taglist for this story, guys. I'm really really sorry. If you want to be put on the master tag list please send me an ask or a DM and let me know, as that does not seem to be experiencing problems at the moment.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

In the days that follow, routine develops. Walks with Margaery become frequent interludes, there is more chance to spend time with Ellaria or with Raeden, and suppers in your quarters are occasions for the four of you to bask in each other’s attention. A week of pleasant days goes by without incident, all except for the gnawing feeling in your chest that never seems to dissipate.

Despite the joint coupling that happened a week ago, there has not been a repeat. The days have turned longer with meetings and whispered conversations in darkened hallways of the wretched keep. Oberyn has kept you and Ellaria apprised of what is being said, Raeden already knowing, but he will be glad to leave King’s Landing behind when this is over.

There has not been another night with Raeden, despite many pleasant evenings in his arms after supper while the four of you have talked. Each night he and Ellaria have retreated to the second bedchamber and left you and Oberyn to your conception efforts with little or no fuss at all. It seems strange, considering how hard you fought to be able to keep Raeden at your side – but you remind yourself that it does not mean he loves you any less. Or that you love him any differently, either.

Oberyn pours another cup of wine and sighs. “I am ready to be rid of this city.” He tells you as he looks out the window at the city below, watching people and animals scurry about their evening. “Will you miss it?”

“I cannot think so.” The gardens are beautiful and the library welcoming, but apparently both are more stunning in Dorne. “If nothing else, it makes the people I care about unhappy, and my mother is still here.” You shrug at him half-heartedly. “That alone is enough to make me long to be anywhere else.”

“Has she said something to you?” Oberyn turns and gives you a sharp look, instantly ready to cut her with his tongue if she had. You have opened up more to him over the past week and the woman should have been barren rather than a mother.

“She found me this morning in the library,” you admit, not liking the look of concern on his face all at once. “And…asked me to have dinner with her and my father tomorrow.”

“Just you?” He asks, raising a brow and wondering what her play is. She might be trying to curry favor. That would be very plausible considering she would have someone close to the small council, but he knows you are far too smart to fall for her shit.

“I did not want to commit you to an entire meal of her insults,” you admit with a small grimace. “So I said you were otherwise occupied on small council business.”

“So I can interrupt if need be and rescue you.” Oberyn smirks before he shakes his head. “You do not have to go. Make your excuses or just do not show if you wish to not go.”

“I thought you might say that.” He has developed a habit of playing with the hair along your neck when you sit together and it soothes you measurably, making you nearly sigh as you sit together. “But I do not want the last meal I share with my parents to be that disastrous breakfast the morning we were introduced.”

“I thought that meal was quite amusing.” Oberyn hums, remembering his own part with satisfaction, though he frowns when he realizes that it has been days since he was close to his lover.

“Yet remembering it makes you upset?” A fact which, when you point it out, makes you frown in turn.

“Simply your fear that followed.” He assures you. “Hopefully now put well to rest.” He leans in and kisses your chin to dispel the frown and replace it with a smirk.

“There will always be some looming fear in a life frought with responsibility and power.” But you turn into him, seeking a kiss from his lips to yours, and smile softly. “What I am assured of is the support of my husband. And for that I am grateful.”

“There is nothing much more powerful than a prince.” He reminds you. “Unless those rumors of dragons are true.”

“I value your support much more than your power.” It would not be true of every woman he could have married, but it is certainly true if you. And you hope – however quietly – that the fact of it means something to him.

“You have both, Princess.” He softens, his fingers caressing your skin and he’s aware that he is lucky in the choice of bride made for him. It might not have been intended, at least for your sweetness, but he is drawn as a bee is to honey.

“Then I am very lucky.” Returning his gentle gesture, your fingers caress the sharp line of his beard and make your smile grow a little wider.

“I have to shave tonight.” He grunts, watching you carefully. “Another bath.” He doesn’t care for the baths in the Keep. “I have already told Cal, do you wish to join me?”

“Leyth will be grateful,” you muse, glad to accept the invitation. The small and large moments of intimacy you get with him are always worthwhile. “It will save her having to draw one for me tomorrow.”

Oberyn had not been with either servant since coming to the keep, in fact, he had been inside no one but you. “Princess.” He tilts his head and draws a circle on your arm.

“My lord?” Though he has yet to demand your fealty, he is that. Your husband. Your prince. Your lord.

His lips twitch slightly and he lifts a brow, approving of your demeanor. “Have you touched your lover since that time we were all together?” He asks it softly, no accusing, just wondering if you had managed to spend time with him when Oberyn is occupied.

“Not beyond a kiss.” There had not been time for it during the daylight hours and you have spent every night since the consummation of your marriage with your husband. “He has been considerate of our efforts to ensure your heir.”

“Very considerate.” Oberyn hums and adds it to the tally that he is forming in his head. “Do you wish to go to him? Seek other pleasures with him?”

The offer, even though there is no malice in his voice, makes you shrink back a little. “Do you wish for me to leave you after we bathe?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, making an effort to not frown. Reminding himself that you are still innocent in the ways of multiple partners. “I just realized that I have been greedy with your nights.”

“I enjoy our nights.” Perhaps too much, you have thoughts more and more frequently — especially when laying in his arms at night.

“I have enjoyed our nights as well.” He chuckles and brushes his nose along your neck. “Are you wishing for anything? Something I can give you?”

“How could I possibly wish for anything beyond what I already have?” Your soulmate, a doting husband, and a divinely lovely friend in his own soulmate. A growing friendship with the widowed queen. What better companions could you ask for?

“Lovers.” He hums. “Whichever you want. A pretty cunt to eat or a cock to suck.” He chuckles quietly. “I am merely asking if you have grown more curious. Though you drain me dry every night when you ride my cock, perhaps you have secretly wished for more.”

“It would not give me the same satisfaction, I think.” The idea of sharing your bed with a stranger simply to take pleasure in them actually appeals to you very little, you have found. It is the closeness – the intimacy – of the act that you crave. Even the most intensely physical fucking you have ever shared with Oberyn has been fraught with feeling. “I think that…it is important for me that I care for my lovers.”

“Interesting.” He’s not of the same mind frame but he respects that. His own feelings for you are complicated and burgeoning as he spends more time in your presence.

“It may seem a bit unconventional to you.” Which is in no way a thing to regret or censure. It is simply a fact. “But I think so far it has made me happy.”

“Just because it is something I am not used to does not mean it is wrong.” He reaches out and caresses your neck gently to reassure you. “I just wish to make sure you are happy with this arrangement as it is.”

“I am.” Much to your surprise, in fact, and you nuzzle against his hand. “I am happier than I ever thought possible. But if you wish to have others in your bed, you only need to say so.”

“I will hurt you.” It’s a simple statement, but one that holds a heavy weight.

The light in your eyes dims and you glance away, suddenly focused on your fingernails far more than his face. “I do not like how you seem so sure of that.”

Oberyn tuts and reaches for your chin. “I do not want to hurt you, Star.” He rephrases softly. “So I need to know if it will hurt to find me with other lovers.” With Ellaria, there had never been that question, but for some reason, it seems terribly important to work out before he causes a hurt he cannot kiss away.

“I expect it.” It is not precisely an answer to his question, but at least it is honest. “You cannot be satisfied by limitations, I knew that when I first went to your bed and I know that still. And, if I am perfectly honest, I admit to being surprised that you have not bedded anyone else since our first night together. I thought to spend most nights with Raeden. Or…even alone.”

“Why alone?” That makes him frown fiercely, and his dark eyes pierce into yours demanding the answer.

“If you are with someone else and Raeden is with Ellaria, then surely I must be keeping my own company.” It is not a judgment call. Simply a fact. But one that apparently neither of you enjoys.

“Princess, you never have to be alone.” He huffs. “Even if you did not join, you would be welcomed to lounge on a chaise and eat berries while I fuck.” He teases, hoping to chase away the clouds of sorrow in your eyes.

“I fear that while I enjoy being observed, I do not think I would enjoy watching you take pleasure in another.” Yet another unfortunate truth that you feel compelled to divulge to him, but it is what it is. “Unless it were Ellaria or Raeden…or someone else you cared for.”

“Hmmmm.” He nods in understanding, and lets go of your chin to lean in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

"Perhaps you may hurt me, but I fear I will still prove a disappointment to you." He had observed once that he did not have the power to hurt you because he did not hold your heart. The terrible truth is that with every passing day you become less and less sure of the truth of that statement. Fight it though you might, it seems very possible that your affection for your husband has outgrown what it once was. And that makes you not only a potentially disappointing wife, but a disgrace of a soulmate to Raeden as well.

“How?” He tilts his head curiously, wanting to see why you would think so.

"Try as I might, I do not think I am as free as you would wish me to be." As free as Ellaria is, you think loudly and with growing remorse. This night has already strayed a long way from the promise of a shared bath and a warm bed.

“I want you to be as free as you are comfortable.” He takes another sip of his wine. “I have not visited a brothel or tossed a servant’s skirts up.” He reminds you with a wink. “I’ve not even had Cal suck my cock, though that mouth is a gift from the gods, old and new.”

"I will sleep on the chaise tonight if you wish to share your bed with him." You would, your twisting chest tells you without words, do anything he wanted. It is an alarming thing to realize and you wince slightly without realizing it.

“You misunderstand my meaning, star.” He shakes his head and reminds himself not to get frustrated with you. “Checking to see if you have developed curiosities does not mean I wish to have another in our bed.” He murmurs quietly. “Freedom and security is all I am offering. The freedom to take or leave it, and the security to know that I will not rebuke you for it.” His hand takes yours and he brings it up to his lips to kiss the back of it like he had the first time he greeted you.

"And you have the same freedom, which is why I offered." The way he changes from intimate to polite at the drop of a hat is mercurial at best and infuriating at worst, but you remind yourself that you still do not know him as well as you think you do. As well as you wish you did. Your marriage is barely a fortnight old.

He sighs softly and gives you a fond smile. “My stars and moon, I have found that I am exhausted by the time you collapse into my arms.”

"Then perhaps I am not so disappointing a wife after all." For now, you can only pray that he remains satisfied with your time together.

“There will come a time that I hope all of us might be together.” He admits softly, leaning in and nudging your nose. “I would like to see you impaled on your soulmate's cock, full of my heir with your skin glowing and your belly swollen.”

That image – the image of the four of you so deeply entwined together – is one that you will soak in and burrow inside. At this stage of things, it is the truest version of what you desire. "If we are lucky, that day will not be so far away."

Perhaps not. Instead of answering, he nods and stands when he hears footsteps approaching. “That will be Cal.” He hums.

“Do you still wish me to stay? To bathe with you?” After the unexpected conversation, you would not blame him if he had changed his mind.

“Stand up and come to me.” He orders, turning away from the table where he was refilling his cup.

It is not often he gives orders, and your tendency from childhood is to follow them as long as they are not cruel, so you do what he says. Standing from the large, cushioned chair you had been sharing, you get up and cross the room to stand before him.

Cal opens the door and nods respectfully to Oberyn, The prince smirks slightly and nods in return before shifting his eyes towards his wife.“My lord.” Cal comes into the room with buckets of water and nods to you both. “My lady.”

“Strip.” He orders you softly, only to where you can hear him. He wants to see if you will argue or if you will trust him.

It is not necessarily so unusual an order, considering Cal has come to fill the bath, and you reach for your laces thinking only that Oberyn's tone is a bit odd.

Pride fills him, pride that you had admitted a preference for being with those you care for and yet you place your trust in him when Cal is in the room. He sets his cup down and his fingers tangle with yours. “Would you strip in front of Cal if I wished it?” He hums against your neck, “would you let me bare you in front of him to see your gorgeous cunt and delicious tits?”

It is not something you would ever think to do, nor is it something perhaps something that would be everyday behavior for you, but you nod slowly. This feels like a test, and you do not intend to fail him if you can help it. "I trust you," you tell him quietly. Quietly, but surely.

“Good.” He rasps out, sliding his hand up from your laces and cups your neck to drag you against him and plunders your mouth in a ravenous kiss.

Confident that you have passed his test at least for now, you sigh into the kiss and let him take all that he could possibly want from you. Because Oberyn gives as much as he takes it is no hardship - in fact it is entirely the opposite. It feels like being worshiped with every breath.

He breaks the kiss when Cal leaves to fetch more buckets and he smirks at you. “You did well, Princess.” He coos with a wink. “You always do well, you just need to believe it.”

"In time." Relieved that you were correct about his intentions, you let yourself lean into his embrace for a moment. "I think perhaps I have been molded out of clay that you know more of how to reshape than I do."

“Just be honest in how you wish to be shaped, Star.” He murmurs softly.

"I cannot claim to know just yet." An alarming thought does float to the top of your mind, though, pushing to be noticed and clamoring to be said. You swallow it deliberately. Too afraid of the words to even know how to form them on your tongue.

"Then we will make sure that you are not pushed into anything too soon." He toys with the laces of your dress and huffs quietly, unable to wait until you are in Dorne and wearing dresses that are far easier to access than these Northern dresses.

“Once again my gown is vexing to you?” The small tease feels good after such a serious conversation as you have had, and you look over your shoulder at him. “If there was a Dornish dressmaker in the Capitol I would have seen her immediately.”

"Wear nothing and make all of the women stew in their jealousy." He grunts, only teasing slightly because he knows your modesty will not allow that. You still cover up when anyone comes into the room, including Leyth until you are sure that it is just your maid.

“Perhaps one day.” If that day ever comes it will be a long way off, but he knows that. Instead you tip your head back further to kiss his cheek. “But well before that, I will be glad to be rid of all of these undergarments.”

"So do not wear them." He proposes easily. "You do not need them. You should be bare under your dresses."

“Truthfully?” This time you do turn fully, a slightly bemused and embarrassed smile on your face. “I asked Leyth to help me dress without them a few days ago and the dresses simply do not look or fit right. They are made for them.”

"How terribly proper of the ladies of the North." Oberyn snorts and continues to toy with your laces. "When it comes time, I will cut your dresses off of you in my eagerness to touch you, star." He promises quietly.

You hum. “It will be the only time gowns have ever been hunted for sport.”

“Vicious, dangerous creatures – cumbersome gowns.” He smirks slightly and decides to loosen some of your laces to make it easier for him to touch you.

“I can put on my dressing gown before Cal comes back,” you remind him. “If you truly want it gone.”

“No.” He isn’t going to disrobe you since you will be uncomfortable. “I just want to touch my wife.”

“That is certainly permissible.” If you could, you would loosen your laces for him and let his hands slip under your clothing to let him touch anywhere.

"I know." He doesn't say that because as your husband, he has every right to touch you whether you like it or not, but because you will let him touch you.

Cal returns shortly with more steaming water, readying the prince’s bath near the fire and with tamped wood underneath to keep the metal tub warm. As a soldier Oberyn Martell has faced plenty of cold baths and far worse conditions – as a prince he has the luxury of insisting for better. When he goes again it is to leave you and Oberyn alone for the night, and that small relief is enough to relax you a bit more.

"They have private rooms." He tells you. "Cal and Leyth. Allowed to sleep together safely every night." He is talking just to talk, but to also put you at ease. Pulling your dress down as he does.

“They deserve as much.” Neither of them knows any of the fate of their soulmate, they have said, but their love for each other is evident. Not everyone is lucky enough to know the other half of their soul – but at least Cal and Leyth are able to share one heart.

"I think they are happy here with us." He hopes they are at least. He had taken them from the brothel where they had known what to expect and thrown them into the world of nobles and lies.

“And if they decide they are not, they now have the power to make their own way in the world.” A fact which makes you hum softly as Oberyn undresses you. The irony that your servants have far more freedom than you do is not lost on you.

His fingers pause for a split second as he comes to the same conclusion and he resumes the task with a hum. "Yes, they will." He says after a moment.

“I suppose you do, in fact, have more meetings tomorrow?” The amount of time that the small council seems to spend ruminating over the smallest matters is extraordinary to you. Oberyn and Raeden seem perpetually frustrated and tired each evening.

"No." Oberyn lets the dress fall to the floor and he hums as he sees the layers of underclothes. "Tomorrow the trial begins."

“How could I have lost track of time so easily?” Days blend together here, you have found, and you shake your head. “We will all be there.”

"Ellaria will stay here." He knows his lover and she would be bored with the trial. "I know she does not wish to watch an innocent man be wronged."

“Nor do I, but I promised Margaery.” Oberyn had said it was up to you whether or not you came, but a promise to a queen cannot be broken.

"Do you wish to have Raeden sit with you?" He asks softly, knowing that you will feel comforted by his presence.

“Only if he wishes to attend.” It is your turn to undress your husband, but your work is much faster than his for lack of an abundance of laces. “My comfort is not more important than his.”

"Raeden will attend, his comfort notwithstanding." Oberyn tells you. "He is now a Lord representing Dorne."

“Then I will ask him to sit with me.” You lift the robe he wears from his shoulders and lay it nearby with care. “That seems only polite.”

"Polite." He chuckles quietly and plucks the ties of his breeches open. "You are always polite."

“Some of the things about my upbringing were not terrible.” You attest, frowning for affect because you know he is only teasing you. “I never liked thinking of Raeden as being inferior. It is a comfort that you have elevated him so that he no longer is.” The thought makes you sigh slightly, but you swallow it. “To where he belongs.”

"I have given him nothing that he has not earned." Oberyn insists. "Your own father should have elevated him beyond a mere knight." He huffs, shaking his head. "He had a good man under his nose and he could not even sniff him out." He had a less than stellar opinion of the man due to him letting his wife run his household, but this had made him sink even lower.

“I suspect my mother may have had more to do with keeping Raeden a subordinate than anything else,” you admit ruefully. “If Father had elevated him, there would be nothing to keep us from marrying for love.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes, making a face that would tell you exactly how he felt about your mother. "And then you would have been actually happy." He murmurs softly.

“Do not say such a thing.” Rather than being insistent or upset, your voice is quiet. Pleading. There are words you cannot bring yourself to say. Things that you feel that you have battled from the very beginning and have only grown stronger. But one thing you are not is unhappy. “I am happy.”

He senses there is something else, something you are unwilling to share and it seems as if there are three people around him who carry secrets that are to be kept from him. "Then we will not talk." He pulls the ties of your shift and pulls it over your head to reveal your body to his eyes and immediately guides you back towards the tub.

“Because I insist I am happy with you, we will not talk?” You ask, bewildered and instantly upset.

"We will not talk so I can show you how I feel." He hums, gripping your hip and pulling you close.

Oberyn's expression is rarely done with words despite how eloquent he can be when he chooses. He would nearly always rather express himself by fucking or fighting, you have found, and while that is admirable in a soldier it is not always particularly helpful in your husband. Especially when you are the sort of person who benefits from having things spelled out for you. It is only because you have shared so many kisses that you understand instinctively that this kiss shared between you is somehow different.

He tries to keep his emotions out of it, but it bleeds through the kiss. Pouring into your mouth from his. Keeping his tongue busy and following it up by keeping his hands moving over you. Guiding you towards the bath and at the same time stripping off his breeches.

The large, heavy tub has held both of you before and you are certain it will again, but tonight when your legs knock against it the wind seems almost to knock out of you at the same time. His movements are as hurried as they are sure, making you all but certain that there are things he is not willing to say to you. It is a vain thing to hope that they might be the same things you cannot bring yourself to say to him, but somehow even the prince himself is keeping secrets.

He reaches up, tangling his hand into your braid and starts to pull it apart. Wanting your hair down, his to touch – to pull. Once the two of you are in the bath, he pulls you into his lap. "What do you want, Princess?" He demands roughly.

Instinctively, your answer ought to be that you have everything you want, for it is very nearly true. But what he means is what do you want from him, and that is a very different question altogether. The bath is the best place for only one kind of intimacy and so you straddle his hips carefully in the wide metal tub. “You, husband.”

His cock is already hard so it is not hard to pull you down on him. Reaching for the cloth and the soap, he rocks his hips up and lathers up the rag so he can drag it over your skin. "I will wash you." He tells you.

"I do not believe I have washed myself once since we married." Though it might be a cheeky observation, it is also true. Oberyn seems to take delight in the show of gentle care.

"You have been bathed by all your lovers, star?" He asks, smirking slightly. "My princess is becoming quite spoiled."

“Ellaria insists. And I have learned quickly not to question her.” The slow, languid pace that you ride him is luxurious and you have no wish to hurry it. Not tonight.

"Has she bathed with you?" He asks curiously. "Or just washed you while exploring your body?"

"I–" It takes a moment of thinking, but you look down at him with a similarly curious expression. "I cannot recall precisely."

He has to give it to his lover, she is good at confusing or redirecting someone. Especially when she distracts them with her sexual prowess. He has no doubt you were cumming while you were being bathed and the fog of pleasure distracted you from anything else.

“Surely it was only a coincidence if she did not.” The wheels of his mind are turning, and sometimes you truly cannot fathom what may come from that. Right now all you want to focus on is him.

“Surely.” He agrees with you, even if he does not mean that. Instead, he kisses along your neck and pays special attention to a small mark on your skin. Laving it with his tongue gently before pulling back to examine it. “What did you do here, Star?” He asks, curious to know what caused it.

“It is Raeden’s mark,” you tell him without thinking anything of the fact. “A scratch from his training as a young man.”

“It is?” Oberyn’s eyes narrow on the mark and he runs his fingers over it again. “Interesting.”

“Only if you consider sparring to be interesting.” Which, at this moment, you absolutely do not. You would much rather concentrate on the man inside you.

“Sparring is always interesting.” He muses, rocking up into you with a rougher thrust that had water splashing over the edge of the tub. “Do you not feel my spear?”

The sharpness of the thrust makes you moan, head falling back as you grip his shoulders to hold on. “Always— I feel you even when you are not inside me.”

“Good.” Oberyn hisses and holds onto you tighter. “I want you to feel me. Every second of every day.”

"Think sometimes you want – oh gods!—" A particularly hard thrust rocks through you and you keen loud enough that you are sure someone heard you, but the idea bothers you less and less. "Want one of us on your cock at all times."

“It would be a nice way to live.” He doesn’t deny it, smirking as he watches your tits bounce and your tongue stick out between your teeth.

"Wicked man." It is barely chiding – a mere tease at best, but you gasp out again as you grind down onto his length with swirls of your hips. "Wicked."

“Completely wicked.” He chuckles and leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Thank the gods.” You groan deeply as you both give yourselves over to the pleasure once more. It seems every night and every morning that you cannot have enough of each other and you are having such trouble now in keeping your sleepy thoughts to yourself in the first waking moments. It can never be – you promised yourself that – but you never anticipated that Oberyn would be such a good and clever man. Such a supportive and caring husband. The promise you made to yourself was when you thought he would be a cur. It gets more difficult each day not to admit more.

“Gods, Star.” Oberyn groans, getting closer to cumming and he is loving how open you are with him now. How his seemingly uninterested wife now rides him with an eagerness that is nearly unmatched. “You are exquisite.”

“Kiss me.” If he does not you might say something you regret. Or worse – not regret it at all. And that possibility is at its highest when you are coming apart in his arms, which you will be in mere seconds.

He almost refuses, but he has quickly learned he can refuse you nothing. His mouth latches onto your with a kiss that is both passionate and tender, assertive and giving. Sure that he will awaken the ancient dragons below the keep in the dungeons with the force of his groan.

It seems almost a cue for your body, the way that his sounds of pleasure rip through you and always pull a shaking orgasm from your body as he pours that passion into his kiss. Your cunt bears down on him, clutching and pulling him as deep into your body as you can manage while states burst behind your eyes and a cry of your own melts in his tongue for him to swallow.

Oberyn’s singular focus is on you. Feeling the way that your body shakes and keens in pleasure. Only satisfied to take his own release now that you are seen to. His grip bruises and his thrust manage to be brutal, even without the natural momentum of being on top of you. Holding you close in an iron grip until he is buried deep, groaning your name as he floods your womb with his seed.

The moment tears into you, crashing through your nerves and over your heart like a wave heralding the incoming chaos of a storm. There is too much in you to pretend anymore — and despite the way your heart aches at feeling that you have betrayed your love for Raeden, it is no longer something you can deny. The affection you feel for Oberyn has bubbled over. It is more than that. Perhaps it has been from the beginning. But the wracking sob that shakes your frame as he holds you close to him is proof to yourself that you cannot deny it any longer. Falling in love with your husband was never meant to be, but it has happened regardless. And all at once the single sob from your lips is followed by a scream of searing agony. It feels like small fires have lit all over your skin and no water in the world could soothe them.

“Star!” Oberyn’s eyes widen in shock, perhaps a moment of fear as your scream fills the air. It is not one of pleasure, it is pure agony and he’s lifting you off of him for fear he had pushed too deep and wounded you in some way. That he had somehow breached your womb and done you a great wound. “Gods, tell me what is wrong!” He cries, trying to be delicate with you as he stands and lifts you out of the water to rush you over towards the bed.

As quickly as the burning begins it seems to end in a moment’s flash. The pain is all too familiar, but the shock of how intense it is has dropped the well of tears before they can begin, leaving you in shock. All that is left is for you to sputter and cling to him, shaking with disbelief. “It—” You gasp for breath and manage to look down your body even for the briefest moment. “Gods above…” There are new scars marring your skin. Ones that you know all too well – from Oberyn’s body. “H—how?”

“What? What is it?” He demands, not looking at your body, but your face. Too worried about his wife’s health to pay attention to you and needing you to answer him. He’s about to call for a maester. You don’t say anything and so his eyes drift down to find marks on your body that he is familiar with. “Star…” he breathes out. “What has happened?”

Scrambling for the familiar, you frantically bend your leg to see if Raeden’s marks have somehow been replaced, but find the goring mark from the day he saved your life still carved into the skin of your inner thigh where it has been for years. “I do not—” spluttering for an explanation that you could never conceive, your hands search out Raeden’s other marks on your skin and find each one where it should be. “Impossible.” You manage, with confusion and an almost awe-struck fear in your voice.

“You have two sets of marks.” Oberyn manages after a moment, his eyes studiously contemplating the situation before him. A book in the Citadel’s library springs forward in his mind. It had been one on soulmates. Something he had no interest in at the time. Now he wishes he had read the book when boredom had taken hold.

“It is not possible.” You insist again, desperate to understand what is happening despite the evidence in front of you. The evidence that is on you.

“Apparently, you are mistaken.” He reaches out and touches one of your scars, his scars, in wonder. “Fantastic.” He muses as he examines the skin. Wondering how such a thing could be and yet it is here before his eyes.

“Fantastic?” The shock of hearing him be so enthusiastic about this development is almost as shocking as what happened in and of itself. You had been about to start apologizing.

“Two soulmates.” He muses, shaking his head and tracing your other soulmate’s scar. “It seems as though you might wish to be a simple woman with a simple life with your lover, you are not destined for that.”

“You are…pleased?” Fighting the instinct to cover yourself, which is unnecessary in front of your husband and ridiculous considering he wears these marks, you cannot stop staring at him in disbelief.

“Intrigued.” He tells you, his eyes sliding up to meet yours. “Wondering. And pleased.” Of course he’s pleased his wife bears his marks.

“I—” Still at a loss for words, all you can think to do is shake your head a few more times before trying again. “It did not happen to you…how is this possible?”

“I am not sure.” He admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. “There is a book in the Citadel on soulmates. Perhaps you should read it.”

"For once, books are the furthest thing from my mind." Sinking back into the mattress, the urge to cover yourself is overpowering again as you try to process what has happened. How in the instant that you admitted to yourself that what you feel for your husband is more than mere affection, his marks had appeared on you.

Your husband watches you seemingly close yourself off from him again. A wall building between you because you wear his marks. You are pulling away from him, undoing all the closeness the past weeks have brought. He frowns slightly and straightens so he can step back. “I will get you some wine.” He decides that giving you a minute is the best thing and turns around to grab the drying cloth since he is still dripping water onto the stone floors.

The momentary impulse to watch him walk away — to try to understand his melancholy as well as your own unease — becomes all the more unbelievable in an instant. “O-Oberyn…” You gasp, climbing out of the bed again with wide eyes. “Your back…” The switch marks you had received from your mother as a child of seven for the unladylike offense of climbing a tree stand out against his tan skin and you can’t help but gape.

“What about my back?” He asks, drying off slightly and turning towards you. He flashes you a small smile, a cover for his discontent in your reaction. “Scratches you make during sex do not bother me, Star.”

“It is not scratches I made.” Although those are there, too. “It is ones my mother made…”

He pauses, frowning and tilting his head for a moment as your meaning becomes clear to him. “Scars?” He asks. “I am wearing your marks. Is that what you are telling me?”

“Check your arm.” There is a mark there from when your brothers had been teaching you to handle a dagger and Antony accidentally nicked you with the tip of his blade. Your eldest brother had babied you for a week in apology.

He looks down at his arm and frowns. Bringing it up to inspect closer, he sees a mark that he doesn’t recall having before. “What is this from?” He asks, sure that it is your mark.

“Antony caught me with a blade when I was thirteen.” You explain carefully, trying to absorb the implications of what has happened. “My brothers were teaching me to defend myself.”

“What other scars do you have?” He demands, immediately starting to search his skin for marks that are new. “Not Raeden’s, yours.”

“The only other is on my ankle.” Every other scar on your body previously was Raeden’s. Now Oberyn’s mar your skin as well. “I was bitten by a stray dog and caught a fever.”

Bare assed, Oberyn bends down to examine his ankles and chuckles. “I did not know that scars could be so attractive, Star.”

“The dog that left it was mangy and mean,” you chuckle, not knowing what else to say in your disbelief. “How is this possible?”

“I do not know.” Oberyn admits, frustrated that he does not know the answers that you are seeking. “When I was training to be a maester, I had no interest in soulmates, so I did not study the matter.”

“Did you already know Ellaria then?” If he did, you can see him being content not to learn more. He already knew everything he needed to. If not? You cannot imagine not wondering - but you have a different outlook than Oberyn does.

“No.” He shrugs slightly as he stands straight. “I had watched my sister endure her own soulmate running off to be with another woman. Leaving her to deal with the madman who sat on that throne and refuse to come home because she had thought it was her place to stay and wait for Rhaegar to realize his mistake and come home.” He snorts and shakes his head. “She loved him and was stubborn.” The grin he flashes is wry. “A Martell family trait, I’m afraid.

“There are worse things than to love unerringly and to be stubborn about it.” Inching to the edge of the bed, you reach for him to give him the option of returning to your side if he wishes. “In fact they may be traits we share.”

“Yes.” Oberyn takes the invitation and strides over to the bed to sit down. “It is said that a Martell, once they love, it is for life.”

With your arms tangled around each other it seems easier to breathe, and you bury your face in his chest for a moment to do just that. What has happened is a miracle only read about folk tales or fantasy romances. Even then the tales are always of someone gaining a second soulmate after the death of their first. Never about having two soulmates at once. Still, you cannot ignore this gift from the gods. It is miraculous in and of itself. “I do not think there is such a saying about my house, but perhaps there should be.”

He wonders if that means that you love him. He had thought you might but your loyalty to Raeden was strong and you might have fought it. “Yes.” He murmurs softly. “Your Raeden is lucky to have such a fierce love.”

Though you nod slightly against his chest, you lean back to look into his face. For such an expressive man, he betrays nothing unless he wants to. And it makes you sigh softly, swallowing your fear. “If the gods have seen fit to give me two soulmates, I can see fit to love them equally.”

Oberyn's hand finds your cheek, caressing it softly as he stares into your eyes, gauging your comment and finding nothing but naked hope shining in your eyes. "Star..." He murmurs softly. "You must know that there is a place in my heart that belongs to you. I think it has since you begged me to marry you to save your Raeden and it has only grown bigger since then."

“It sounds so dramatic when you say it like that.” Dramatic and poetic – and of course Oberyn is a professed poet.

It was not the response he was expecting and his lips curl into a pout. "You believed me crass before and now dramatic." He huffs at you, his fingers still caressing your skin. "Next you will say I am boring."

“If I claimed so, it would only be to see you pout at me.” You lean close to him, feeling your skin tingle and breath catch with this admission you have made to yourself and the stunning result of having two soulmates. “But…” you press a soft kiss to his lips. “I do not think I could ever love a boring man. And I must confess to loving you more deeply than I have been able to reconcile.”

“You have been fighting it.” He surmises, not surprised by that. There have been moments where he could see your guilt at being apart from Raeden for so long. Times where he had almost sent you to the other man to cast away the unease in your eyes.

"Are you upset with me for doing so?" That is the furthest thing from what you want, but you would understand it. Understand that he was hurt or disappointed by his wife fighting against falling in love with him.

“Why would it upset me?” He asks you, tilting his head curiously. “You have freely admitted that you are not like Ellaria or I, sharing the ease of our physical affections. Why would emotions be any different?” It’s reasonable and rational, and he’s surprised that you think he would not understand your internal conflict. “The only upset that I harbor is that you have been upset by it. Even if it was passing moments.”

"You have changed my life in so many ways," you admit quietly, leaning your head once more on his shoulder to have him close. "I think I had no idea just how many changes you would make simply by being at my side. Or by allowing me to be at yours."

“I only allow you to take your rightful place as my Princess.” He teases with a smile as he wraps his arm around you. “You have been the one doing all the work.”

"It was no work to fall in love with you." For better or for worse, it is the truth. And a truth you will no longer be hiding.

“You have been working.” He hums. “Working to make sure that your lover is safe, that my lover’s feelings are respected.” He rubs your arm. “Working to become the woman you are meant to be.”

“I only hope that it is someone you can all be proud of.” If you can accomplish that, you reason, it will have been worth every ounce of effort. Their happiness and comfort is everything to you. Your two soulmates, and fascinating, intimidating Ellaria.

“Two soulmates.” He muses, shaking his head. “I am already proud of you, Star.” He promises. “Never doubt that.”

“Though I am not sure why, I will wear it proudly.” Turning your head, you place a kiss on his shoulder before another sigh escapes you. “We should tell them in the morning. I do not like the idea of keeping secrets.”

“Hmmmm, you don’t?” He asks lazily, kissing your shoulder. “Perhaps we should sit with it another day or so. Find some answers to our questions.”

“How can we?” He could distract a dragon from its gold with that mouth, and you have nowhere near the strength of a dragon. “The trial begins tomorrow. We will not have time to go to the Citadel.”

“Perhaps you could go after the break for the noon meal.” Oberyn is well aware that there will be plenty of breaks for the whims of the lords, and this is important. “You can take Cal with you.”

“What should I be looking for?” The idea of keeping secrets from Raeden and Ellaria bothers you more than you can say, but Oberyn seems resolute — and he usually has good reason for the things that he does.

“See if there is anything written on two soulmates.” He instructs you, knowing your studious mind would quickly absorb the information if it was to be found. “When you arrive, seek out the maester that married us. Do you remember his name?”

“Rhodestone.” The man will forever be an important and anxious memory for you, so you have not forgotten.

He nods in approval and kisses your shoulder again. “Good girl. Tell him that I want to you to have access to every tome on soulmates they have.”

“And I will bring back any findings to you…before we inform our soulmates?” He must have a reason for wanting it done this way, you just wish he would share it with you.

“That seems the best way to present it. Would you not agree?” His eyes slide up to yours and he waits for your honest opinion.

“I suppose I simply do not like secrets,” you admit with a small shrug of your shoulders. “But I can see the virtue in doing research first.”

He hums in agreement. “If you truly wish to tell them, I will not stop you.”

“I would not interrupt them now.” The sounds of their pleasure bleed through the wall and you are only confused – and slightly deflated – by the fact that they did not come to see what had happened when you screamed. “I will think on it again in the morning.”

“I wonder why I did not feel your marks.” He grunts, squeezing you close again since you gave him the answer he wanted before he stands back up. “Do you wish to wash up? Or simply stay in the bed?”

“It would be self-flattery to suggest you did not feel them out of some kind of worry about me.” Even knowing you share the same feelings for each other - knowing the gods have declared you soulmates - you cannot imagine thinking that well of yourself in any way and you slip backward under the bedclothes in answer to his question. “It is likely the immunity of a soldier. Pain does not bother you the way it bothers others.”

“No,” he shakes his head as he moves towards the wine. Determined to get you that cup. “I was concerned with what was happening to you. I feared that I had injured you.”

“With your cock?” The idea almost makes you snort, and in holding it in, you end up smirking at him. “I confess I would never have considered that a possibility.”

He could say something crass or revolting, but he reminds himself that you are very innocent in many ways. He purses his lips at you in a pout. “What else was I to believe? It is not as if I expected you to suddenly gain my scars.” He slides into bed with you, not spilling a drop of the wine and kisses the closest scar that is also on his body.

“No one could have expected it.” His warm breath on your skin is as welcome as the wine and you sip it gratefully.

“Does it upset you to carry my marks?” He asks curiously. Eager to know your thoughts on bearing his and Raeden’s scars on your body. “Does it make you feel disloyal to your lover?”

“I thought it made me disloyal to…to fall in love with you…” you admit, leaning back against the bedhead and contemplating him carefully. “But it seems that I am meant to share my heart as I share my bed. There is no loss here, as I feared there would inevitably be. Only gain.”

He nods slowly and sighs softly. “I know there are a lot of challenges in our situation, but I want you to know that you are free to love whoever you wish. Share with me, of course, but your heart is your own.

“It is not something that comes easily to me, but as you say…once it has blossomed it is endless.” The wine in your hand is helpful for steadying your nerves, but gratefully it is watered down. A clear head is necessary here. “I have wondered for some years if I loved Brynna, and the wondering is why I am not so certain. With Raeden, and with you? It is like an unquenchable fire.”

“There are many types of love.” Oberyn reminds you. “The innocent first loves are there to remind you of something pure. Even if it was fleeting.” You have not had time or space to allow for you to experience such a thing. Girls being held to a vastly different standard than boys in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Perhaps it was innocent and pure, then.” That would be a comfort. That though it was secret and felt terribly wrong, it was nothing of the sort. “It would be nice to think of her that way.”

“You should.” He encourages you. “You have such a capacity for love, Star. I would be surprised if you don’t recall your time with your Brynna with tender affection.”

“I can only hope that Raeden takes the discovery with half as much grace as you have.” That is where your worry lies now, though you cannot imagine what he will actually say either way.

“I think he will not cause you any grief.” He predicts. “He will accept it.”

“Do you think Ellaria will be as accepting?” It does not, after all, only affect you.

“Ellaria will understand why such a thing happens.” He muses, rocking his jaw in contemplation.

“You are always so certain of everything.” As though you could absorb some of his assuredness, you lay your head on his chest when he puts his arms around you. “I envy that.”

“You do?” He hums thoughtfully and smirks as he rubs your back. “I shall teach you how to be certain, love.”

"There is plenty to envy about you." To hear him call you love is a bright and shining moment of goodness that you had not looked for, but it washes over you with joy. "At least I need not envy anyone for being close to you."

“No, I imagine a perfect world would be sleeping beside both of my soulmates.” He chuckles. “Lavishing you both with attention.”

"You would need a very big bed," you laugh softly at the idea, trying to assemble the visual in your mind. "I would want both of my soulmates there, as well."

“Much bigger than this.” He scoffs, indicating the bed you are in. There wouldn’t be much room for a child if one had a bad dream with the two of you in it, let alone two other adults. “We will have to have one made for our chambers in Sunspear.”

"How wonderfully luxurious." Conjuring the image for yourself makes you hum and turn your head to smile at him. "A four-person bed. Can you imagine?"

“I can.” He chuckles again. “Rolling over and deciding who I am going to fuck is a delightful image.”

"I believe that might even be your dream." You cannot help but tease him, enjoying the sound of his laugh immensely.

“Would it not be a dream?” He asks you, cocking a brow up in challenge. “Turning over to mount my cock, or turn the other way to swallow your lovers? Perhaps ignoring both of us to find pleasure with Ellaria. Letting me wake to your combined sweet moans.”

Wanting to be as confident or as bold as he might be, you straighten your spine and smirk back at him. "I think if you woke to our shared moans, it would not take long for you to impale one of us on your cock."

“Perhaps.” He enjoys the confidence in your smile and winks at you. “Or perhaps I will make your Raeden moan louder.” He teases.

"A competition." It makes you actually laugh, even if it is just an amused little chuckle. "That would be very like you both, I think."

“He will be very competitive.” Oberyn predicts with a grin.

"I think you have that effect on people." Still grinning, you lean over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "We should sleep, love. Tomorrow is sure to be a trying day."

He snorts in amusement. “Yes it will be, Star.” He agrees. “A trying trial, certainly.”

"I had not even--" The pun had not crossed your mind and you roll your eyes at him with doting affection. "You are teasing me."

“I am.” His nose nudges yours and he kisses you one last time. “Sleep star, we will see where fate takes us in the morning.”

******

Unfortunately, Fate sees you sleeping in, in the morning. Instead of lazily making love again before , you and Oberyn are up and dressing as soon as Leyth and Cal reappear. Apparently you had been impossible to wake an hour ago when they first tried.

“Sit with Raeden.” Oberyn instructs you, reaching up and caressing your cheek. “Make sure that you do not reveal what you are thinking on your face. Act aloof and almost disinterested.”

"Am I still to go to the Citadel during the break?" Provided that Maester Rhodestone will be willing to help you, the idea of trying to find a book - or several books - about soulmates is enticing in the light of day.

“Yes.” He would go himself, but there is no way to delay the trial. “Find what you can.”

"I will find out everything I can." You give him a firm, lingering kiss before his brisk exit from your chamber, knowing that he has to be to the trial early before spectators and all manner of other attendees arrive. Dressed in one of your more modest Northern gowns that will cover all of the new marks you have gained, you add the necklace he gave you the morning of the royal wedding and make sure both of your rings are in place before knocking gently on the chamber door where Raeden and Ellaria are starting to move about.

When the door opens, Ellaria breezes out, completely dressed “Star, you look positively radiant this morning. Oberyn must have planted his seed deep.”

"We slept late this morning." Is this excuse you give, finding it hard to look her in the eye with the secret of last night's truths weighing heavily on your shoulders. "But you look more stunning than ever. I trust you slept well?"

“Like a baby cosseted in silk.” She assures you with a smile as she comes over to cup your cheeks and kiss your lips. “I must thank you for allowing me to spend time with Raeden.”

"As I must thank you for allowing me to spend time with Oberyn." It does not matter that both men are now your soulmates, what matters is that the four of you have struck a balance that works for everyone. Which, right now, you are not sure Oberyn would agree with.

“You are planning to go to the trial, yes?” She asks, having no interest herself but encouraging you if that is your wish.

"I promised Margaery." Otherwise you would now be spending the entire day with Maester Rhodestone, scouring the Citadel for your necessary research. "In fact...I was hoping to ask Raeden to sit with me during the proceedings."

“Lover!” Ellaria calls over her shoulder before she beams at you. “I know he will be pleased to spend time with you.”

"I have missed him," you admit with a slightly sheepish sigh.

“I have been selfish.” She hums. “Keeping your lover for myself.” She pouts slightly and there is a flash of something in her eyes. “I am sorry, Princess.”

"I could have asked at any time." But you had not, and your growing bond with your husband has now resulted in something miraculous. So you press a kiss to her lips and offer her a sincere smile. "I am glad that you have found such affection for each other. It makes our intertwined lives far more enjoyable."

“Yes.” A cloud of doubt passes over her face before a pleased smile chases it away. “I am sure we will be well pleased with our arrangement. Nothing to worry about.”

"There is not anything to worry about," you murmur your agreement with a nod. "Enjoy your day far away from the trial, Ellaria. I am sure we will all much rather hear about how you spend your time than discuss the proceedings over supper tonight."

“I am certain I will have a much more entertaining time than you.” She reaches up and squeezes your shoulders affectionately and gives you one last smile as Raeden steps out of ‘their’ bedroom.

Ellaria slips away with a mysterious smile and you turn to the towering man who has been so familiar to you for years. "Good morning, my love." He is that, no matter who else might also live in your heart, and this morning you find yourself sure of it rather than afraid as you had been last night.

“Good morning.” Raeden’s smile is rather sheepish and he reaches out to pull you against him, still in awe of the fact that he can do so without worry. “Did you sleep well, my love?”

“I did.” You tilt your head back to smile up at him and silently ask for a kiss. “Did you?”

“Should I feel guilty if I say I did?” He asks with an amused twist to his lips. He rubs his hands up your arms and stares into your eyes softly.

“Of course not.” Such a motion makes you frown and you shake your head. “In fact I far prefer for you to sleep well. No matter who you share your bed with. If you had not, I would be asking Ellaria why.”

The nagging guilt eases and he flashes you a small smile. “I have no doubt that you sleep well in the Prince’s bed.” He muses. “After he has worn you out and filled you with his seed.” The jealousy of knowing you must carry Oberyn’s child before his own is nothing but a small twinge and he would never voice it out loud. Too aware of everything the man has given him already.

“I will bear one for him and one for you, and the rest for whichever the gods decree,” you hum, seeming to read his mind. Your connection has always been a very deep one. “But I am afraid I have a favor to ask of you, my love. If that is acceptable?”

“Anything in my power to give you is yours. You know this.” He reminds you, although now he has a chance of giving you more than his loyalty.

“I had hoped to coax you to sit with me during the trial.” It sounds like such a small, silly thing, but it means so much to you. “Years of hiding or affection can be over, if we want it to be. But all I wish for is the comfort of your presence.”

“I would be honored to sit beside the Princess of Dorne, but more importantly, my soulmate.” Raeden straightens proudly and nods. “I am to sit with the other lords.”

“I see nothing wrong with a Princess of Dorne sitting to observe with the lords of her country. You will do your duty as a Head of House and we will have the luxury of each other’s company.” He is so utterly proud to be elevated and recognized for his noble blood and you grin to see him preening. “You deserve this place, my love. Oberyn bestowed it upon you because he saw that right away.”

“I hope so.” He has been worried that it is because he is your soulmate, or worse, because the prince wants to fuck him. Hoping to earn the title that has been bestowed upon him. “It is vastly different from being your guard.”

“I hope it is a good change, and not one that brought you cause for worry?” The last thing you want is to make his life harder, but you also know that this change is something he has desired for a long time. For perhaps his entire life.

“It is very good.” He nods and smiles at you. “I cannot describe it, my love, but I feel….free.” There had not been the mistrust amongst the Dornish lords that he might have faced in the Vale. He knows that it is a good thing for him and is looking forward to establishing his house.

“Then I hope you embrace it fully.” The fact that you feel very much the same is not lost on you - now is the fact that it was the marriage you were sold into that has provided such freedom. For more, you simply reach up to kiss him again. “Your happiness has always been of the utmost importance to me, and that has not changed.”

“You are happy?” His own eyes turn searching, wanting to make sure you are not merely putting on a show for him. He knows the intrigue of the prince, his magnetism is hard to deny, but he wants to make sure that you are truly happy.

"I am." You can feel the way it lightens you from the inside, your heart swelling in your chest with love and pride. The way that new love seems to make you stand taller and smile more easily just the way it had when you fell in love with Raeden. You put both hands on his chest and lean into his warmth, letting it envelope you. "I honestly think I may not ever become used to the title, but I am happy with this life."

“If anyone deserves the title of ‘Princess’ it is you, my love.” He reaches up and caresses your cheek. “You are kind and gentle, loyal and just. You were a princess to me before you married your husband.”

"I think perhaps you were a little biased, beloved." Still, it is relieving to have such a gentle moment with him, and teasing him does not keep you from savoring it as you nuzzle into his touch. "If it were not so important that we leave our rooms today, I might simply pull you into bed with me never to leave again."

“It is a shame.” Raeden groans quietly as he leans in and kisses your jaw. “I fear I have been negligent in making sure that you know that I still desire you so much I ache with it.”

“Stay with me tonight.” It’s almost a plea, as you tilt your head to let him touch and taste any part of you that he pleases. Every thought but him has left your mind completely.

A small fissure of something akin to fear races across Raeden’s face, almost imperceptible but he nods. “It might be late.” He warns you. “I know the council will want to convene after the first day.”

"I cannot find it in me to care," you admit, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "It will be a treasure to sleep against you and wake up beside you."

“Do not try to burn the candles and stay awake.” He urges you with a smile. “I shall sneak into your bed like a thief and pretend that I must keep you quiet.”

"It sounds far more appealing when it is a game, and not a matter of life or death against my parents' will." Something which had been the entire truth not too long ago. "Promise to wake me, my love. That is all I ask."

“Of course I will.” Despite his concerns, he craves the closeness of your body to his. The reassurance of your kisses and love. “Now we must hurry.”

******

There is nothing less desirable in the entire world than sitting through this trial, but you have not flinched all morning. Oberyn bid you to steel yourself and you have, sitting firm in your seat with Raeden beside you and envying Ellaria's ability to be absent from the proceedings. The only thing that saves you from complete and absolute misery is the call to break for the midday meal. When that break is agreed upon you squeeze Raeden's hand in yours and offer him a weak smile. "I think I need a walk," you murmur, knowing that the fresh air will do you a world of good as you make your way to the Citadel.

Raeden frowns and he bites his lip. “If you need to stray too far, go back and take Cal or Leyth with you.” He insists, wishing he could go himself, but he will be required to converse with Oberyn and stand by him in the talks that are inevitable to come.

"I will stay safe, I promise." The Citadel is not far, thankfully, and you can make the walk on your own. "Will you be alright with Oberyn while I walk?" Given that it was your husband's idea for you to journey out, you know he will not object, but you still want to make sure that Raeden is not too uncomfortable from the morning.

“Yes.” He frowns slightly. “I just wish you had someone with you.” He grumbles, having taken Oberyn’s warning about your safety seriously.

“Will it comfort you if I take Cal?” You will lose time because of it, but not much. His ability to trust you are safe and not be distracted with worry is more important.

His eyes slide past you to where Oberyn is beckoning him. “Does your husband know?” He asks and you nod, because he does know of your plan. “Then I trust his judgment. Go, my love and keep your dagger close.”

"I promise." With a nod and a reassuring smile, you head through the halls of the keep with a confident stride. There is only so much time before the trial will reconvene and you will be expected to return. You must make good use of your time.

______

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[bi-bard]

Cruel Trick of Fate - Xenk Yendar Imagine [Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves]

Title: Cruel Fate

Pairing: Xenk Yendar X Reader

Word Count: 1,508 words

Warning(s): self-image issues (i think that's a good way to describe it), mention of attack

Summary: Xenk saves the life of a person in need. (Y/n)'s time spent healing brings the duo exceptionally closer than either of them considered to be possible.

Author's Note: I don't know if I'm surprised that this is happening or not.

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My story truly begins when I woke up in what I assumed was a cave.

I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten there. And once I blinked the sleep from my eyes, I realized those facts and shoved myself out of the bed.

I scrambled, doing a circle in the hopes of getting some kind of hold on my surroundings. It didn't do much.

I reached over blindly, grabbing a stick of some kind that I could use as a makeshift weapon.

"You shouldn't be moving around."

I jumped when I heard a voice. I held out my arms, trying to look more threatening to the man than I actually was.

"You hit your head," he said. "You should sit down before your head begins to hurt again."

"Who are you and where am I," I asked. "And why did you bring me here?"

"My name is Xenk Yendar, this is my home, and you were attacked," he answered simply.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "That didn't actually answer my final question."

"Your head was hurt," he repeated. "By the creature that attacked you. Do you not remember?"

"Head injuries can impact memory," I replied. "Shocking, I know."

"I do not find that shocking at all," his eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

"I was being- it wasn't- why am I explaining the concept of language to you," I scolded myself more than I truly spoke to him. "Let me go."

"I cannot do that in good conscience," he shook his head. "How are you feeling?"

"I- I'm fine," I blinked a few times when a spiking pain shot through my head, finding a place in my temple to continuously remind me of its presence. "I want to go home."

"If I allow you to do that and you end up even more hurt on the trip, then I would never be able to forgive myself."

"Then you can guide me, how's... how's that?"

I must've swayed a bit when I spoke.

Xenk stepped forward, only stopping when I shakily pointed the stick at him.

"You are threatening me with a stick and are clearly weak, please sit down," he pleaded.

I closed my eyes, my face scrunching up a bit as I did so. I felt him pull the stick from my hands before guiding me to sit back down on the bed.

"I will be right back."

I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, not acknowledging his comment.

At the time, I decided that the entire event was decided by some cruel act of fate.

It felt like I spent ages with Xenk.

At first, I was angry. Dismissive. I made my discomfort very well known. The more that I looked back on that time, the more stunned I am that Xenk never told me to leave. He refused to give up on me until I was fully healed.

I did eventually begin to calm down. Anger and annoyance became something close to indifference. It was all much calmer. We would eat together, conversations were less awkward, and my constant need to fight or run seemed to dissipate.

When that indifference changed, I wanted to refuse that it happened.

It felt strange to think that such a change had happened. Ridiculous.

It was so much easier for me to ignore it happened at all.

And then, Xenk came back with a wound on his arm.

I furrowed my eyebrows as he walked in.

"Are you alright," I asked.

He nodded. "Just need to take care of this."

I watched him for a while as he cleaned his wound and attempted to take care of it. It didn't seem like a very intense wound, but it did seem a bit difficult for him to take care of.

It took me far too long to finally step in.

"Alright, stop," I walked over and swatted his hand away. "I may go mad watching your stubbornness."

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment. "How would my supposed stubbornness cause you to lose- you were figurative!"

"Yes," I nodded as I moved his arm. He hissed a bit. "Does that hurt?"

"Not at all," he replied, voice slightly strained.

I rolled my eyes before walking around him and sitting behind him on the mattress. He was able to lower his arm and I was still able to properly take care of his wound.

I remained quiet as I wrapped his arm. I was the youngest in my family. My experience with tending to wounds was minuscule. But I could do some of the bare minimum.

"How is that," I asked quietly after pulling my hands away.

"Better than I could have done on my own," he mumbled.

It was then that I noticed how... strange the moment felt. We were so close and it all felt so... intimate.

We fell silent again. We both seemed fixated on watching each other's eyes. As if we were attempting to read each other's minds before either one of us made a mistake.

I nodded somewhat awkwardly before going to stand from my spot. "I... I think I am going to make us both some tea. I know that it won't heal you, but it certainly couldn't hurt."

I went to walk away, but his good hand stopped me, catching my wrist before I could get too far away from him. I stopped, turning back to him.

"What is it," I asked quietly.

He blinked a few times as if suddenly realizing what he had actually done. "I... I'm afraid that I don't truly know. I'm sorry."

He let go of my wrist, still stunned by himself.

I paused for a moment. After contemplating my choices, I stepped closer to him. He looked up at me.

My eyes moved up to his forehead. I don't know why. I think holding eye contact with him was simply too intense. I heard him sigh as my eyes moved. He must have assumed that I was staring at the mark decorating his skin and not just trying to cope with my own emotions.

"That is why it has taken you so long to fully trust me," he muttered.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What?"

"The symbol of Szass Tam," he explained, looking away from me. "Some part of me will always be lost to it. I am closer to a monster than not... it is why you were so hesitant to trust me."

"No," I shook my head. "No, no, Xenk. That is not true."

He looked at me again.

"I didn't trust you because I was hurt and found myself in a strange place with a person that I had never met before," I corrected. "It was a very understandable reaction. But once I got to know you, I trusted you more. I cannot think of a single moment that the symbol on your forehead was what determined how I felt about you.

"You are also far from any kind of monster. You are a hero. You have saved many people, you protected me when you didn't even know my name, you have vowed yourself to a life helping others. I don't know a monster that would ever do such a thing."

Xenk seemed to scan every inch of my face, waiting for some sign that I was being dishonest. I reached up, gently running my thumb over the mark on his forehead. He took a deep breath, eyes falling shut as I did.

"Silly thing, really," I muttered. "I didn't even notice it when we first met. Did you know that?"

"Really?"

I nodded. "I was a little too focused on other things... like figuring out what had happened."

"When did you notice it," he asked.

"We were having dinner. That first night," I said. "I was refusing to eat until you did, so I had nothing to focus on other than you. That's when I started making out the symbol. I just... I couldn't bring myself to care about it."

"Why?"

"Don't know," I shrugged. "Instinct... fate?"

"I do not understand why fate would prevent you from caring."

"Maybe fate didn't want me to leave," I replied. "If I cared about the mark, then I would have."

"And why would fate not want you to leave?"

I could see something cross his face. Some small, knowing look. I bit back a growing smile at the idea. There was this air of safety and comfort. Security in whatever choice I made next.

I took a deep breath before leaning down and gently pressing my lips to his. I felt the hand of his uninjured arm reach up and touch the hand not resting on his face.

It was only a few moments before I pulled away. I slowly grinned at him. He smiled back at me.

"I'm glad that fate kept you from leaving," he muttered.

I chuckled. "So am I."

I leaned forward and kissed him again.

Quite a cruel trick that fate decided to play, wasn't it?

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

Author's Note: I just wanna brag about the fact that I managed to guess where this movie was filmed while I was watching it with a friend. It was the coolest thing I've done in a long time.

Also, that I kept making comparisons between this movie and Ella Enchanted, but that's not really as cool.

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

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[bestboysaiki]

BUCKET LIST ☆ 08

The cafeteria table is full of chattering, Kaidou and Aren are attempting to create plans for Halloween which is in two days. You listen intently as Aiura says you should all go in costumes.

"Nothing lame! So Hairo, no more blanket ghosts please" She complains, handing Nendou a napkin for the mess he made.

"It's a classic, how could I not?" He spits out, suddenly going on the floor and doing pushups. You laugh at the sight of Hairo randomly doing his workout. Your chopsticks drop loudly on your tray, listening to the rest of the plans being made. Teruhashi and Chiyo agree to do your bloody makeup, as you decided you wanted to go as a killer. No one in particular, but just a killer and Saiki thought that actually suits you. He munches on his cafeteria food, knowing he is going to get tangled into these Halloween plans either way.

"Saiki, you should go as a bloody butler! You'll look so cool" Kaidou suggests, pushing Nendou off the chair next to Saiki and sitting down.

"Yeah you should haha.. you would look nice" Teruhashi agrees sheepishly, scratching the back of her head.

You snort, finding it funny how Teruhashi so obviously likes Saiki but he doesn't seem to care. The most gorgeous girl in the world likes him and he doesn't like her? Yeah, he's weird. You focus your attention to Saiki's tray, eyeing the green grapes displaying. You glance up at him and he nods, pushing his tray towards you.

"Thanks Saiki" You whisper, grabbing the grapes by hand and pushing them into your mouth.

He grabs his school bag and takes out the bunny drawing you had done a while back. He sets it down on the table and points at it. Your eyes brighten up as you excitedly grab it and hold it up to the side of your face.

"How is it not crumbled?! I literally destroyed it with my own hands so how-" You try to catch your breath, stopping your rapid talking. Saiki mouths the word "Powers" to you and with a nod, you give him a thumbs up.

He always found it funny how your habit of throwing a thumbs up has gotten worse. He wonders if your thumb is as tired as you are.

Saiki decides it's finally time to ask you about it.

Once lunch ends, he tries to find you by yourself but you're always surrounded by either Aren or Kaidou. Even the girls seemed to never leave you alone.

So he has one last idea.

To talk to you after school.

This is a difficult concept considering you usually have Kaidou walk you home. So, Saiki has to get to you way before anyone did. He silently watches you put away something in your bag. The drawing, perhaps?

Saiki walks up behind you, poking your shoulder. You turn and wave at him, and before you could loudly speak, he holds a finger to his lips.

"Your eyebags" He flatly points out, cautiously looking at his surroundings and confirming there is no one coming near you both. Your eyes showing multiple emotions, confusion flashing through your irises.

He's really close to you now, and your back is against a wall. His last words catch you off guard and you try to play it cool.

"You're sick aren't you?".

You push him off harshly, your head bumping with his chin.

"Hey! What's with the questions, huh?" You blurt out, jabbing your finger at his chest and pressing your nail against his skin to inflict some kind of pain.

"I know something is wrong, just tell me" Saiki explains, gingerly grabbing your finger and pushing it down to your side.

"Why do you care? It's not like we're best friends" You say in a hushed voice.

Oh yeah, that's right Saiki thinks to himself, and he has to admit that did sting a little considering he was actually starting to think of you as a friend. Not even a friend, but as a best friend.

"You're a pain, forget I even asked" He blurts out, shaking his head and disappearing into the incoming crowd.

You blink, rubbing your eyes and frowning at yourself for saying such a rude thing.

Jeez, this sickness is really getting to me.

You're about to push through the pouring in of people but feel a hand wrap around yours. You look down and see Kaidou's bandaged up hand.

"Home?" He asks with puppy eyes and dammit, he really knows how to use those eyes when it's convenient to him.

All you do is nod and allow him to walk you home, as always.

☆

"Your skin is so soft, Y/n" Nendou comments, rubbing the back of his hand against your cheek. You slap his hand away, Teruhashi looking back at him with a forced smile.

The whole bunch is currently at Saiki's house, who does not appear too thrilled about the idea.

The girls are fixing up your costume by working on the blood makeup on your face. Aiura thought it was a good idea to splatter blood on your clothes. It was a great thought but it soon turned into Aiura and Teruhashi trying to convince Saiki to put on bloody makeup too.

It worked.

You're matching with Saiki in terms of how much fake blood you have thrown at your face and clothes. You grab him by the shoulder and pull him to your side, showing the others you both look similar.

"Look at Saiki's face, he's totally enjoying this!" Nendou points at Saiki, whose facial expression is still blank. You cringe internally, maybe he's hoping you weren't close to him.

He shrugs your hand off. You nudge him playfully and he stumbles to the side, nudging you back harder.

You sigh in relief, you're glad to see that he's atleast acknowledging you.

"Okay let's go!" Chiyo grabs your hand and Hairo links his arm around yours, pulling you towards out the house. The others follow you three out, meanwhile Saiki is having a crisis of his own.

Y/n is way too close to my friends for my liking , what should i do?

Saiki watches you joke around and laugh with the others, walking through neighborhoods and asking for candy.

He's getting nervous now, seeing you actually get along with Teruhashi and cracking more jokes with her.

He bumps into Nendou, who starts interrogating him.

"Woah buddy, why is your face so pale? Ah I see, you're scared of the decorations put up, don't worry I'll keep you safe" He grumbles as he places his jacket over Saiki's shoulders.

You finally look back at Saiki, it's like you've been avoiding him this entire night. You flash him an apologetic look, indicating that you're sorry for not acknowledging him this whole time.

He just gives you a thumbs up, poking fun at your habit of always throwing up a thumbs up. You return the favor, turning your attention back to Kaidou picking out his favorite candies and giving them to you.

"Saiki actually gets cooler once you get to know him longer" Kaidou tells you, his shoulder practically stuck to yours. You instantly agree, adding on about how he's not actually emotionless but really considerate.

Saiki's tense shoulders relax, he takes a deep breath in and gives himself a massage on his wrists. He really was nervous for nothing, you're not a threat to his already formed friendships.

He was actually afraid you might take his friends away, no wonder he's been acting so weird since you got here. He hated to admit it but he saw you potentially ruining his friendships with how outgoing you are.

In reality, you did not affect his relationships at all.

He decides to enjoy the night, he just couldn't stop staring at how you still looked like a genuinely nice person even with fake blood all over you.

Saiki shakes his head, he still disliked how he was getting comfortable with you. You just always seemed to create a welcoming atmosphere wherever you went.

Good grief, Saiki glances at his heavy bag of candy. I guess this could be worse.

☆

After everyone had left, you asked Saiki if you could stay at his for a bit. You hate being home alone and your parents are working super late again.

He agrees, only if you give him his favorite brand of candy in exchange. You groan, hesitantly grabbing the strawberry flavored bars from your bag. You show him your palm, the candies crinkling as he grabs him quickly and slips them into his own bag.

"Thanks" He mutters, dumping his entire candy collection onto the table. He hopes you understand what he is hinting at. He wants to exchange more candies with you as a form of human interaction ..

That sounds really bad, he just wants to interact with you because he feels bad for seeing you in a negative way.

You do get the hint, you follow his lead and you both start hastily trading sweets.

"Hey, give that one back! Don't be greedy" You snap at him, grasping back the king sized chocolate bar he snatched.

"Okay fine, your twin size caramel bar then" Saiki proposes, rubbing his chin as if he has made the most difficult decision ever.

"Hmm" You sit back on the chair, rubbing your temples and thinking hard.

"Only if I get your sour gummies".

"Deal".

You swap candies once again, your hands ripping apart the small packaging. The sour bears scatter in front of you on the table, you shove a gummy to Saiki's face.

"Take it" You insist, waving it in front of his mouth like it's bait. He carefully takes it from your hand, throwing it into his mouth. You let out a soft laugh, you find it funny how he chews.

You try to sneakily take back your caramel bar, but Saiki slams his hand upon yours. Shaking his head, he's still chewing and throws another candy package to you.

"Okay just one more sour bear" He says, picking up another gummy and popping it into his mouth.

"You should totally try this one" You hold up a plastic bag of candy corns, causing Saiki to throw you a disgusted glance.

"Candy corn is the worst, come on" Saiki stands up to get you a glass of water, looking back and seeing you're still shoving your face in candy.

Hours fly by and you're still conversing about how your collection of naked angels is expensive but manageable. Saiki nods intently, focusing on your lit up phone when a notification pops up.

"Doctors appointment at 9am".

He purses his lips, trying to force a calm expression on his face. He's fighting the urge to ask you about it, but he knows you won't say anything.

He throws more mini bags at you filled with sour belts, waiting for you to trade more chocolate bars with him.

"Bet you wish you never traded these" You twirl the multi color strip around your finger.

"Yeah, I really do wish" Saiki mumbles, staring at your eyebags.

He wishes you would tell him whats happening to you, but all he knows is that patience is what he needs.

He gives you a sad look, to which you do not see as you continue blabbering. He smiles slightly.

Maybe you're not annoying anymore.

#kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo x reader fanfic #saiki x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k. #saiki k #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki x reader fanfic

[omgkalyppso]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @littleplasticrat. ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ Thank you!

I'm going to grab a bit from a bunch of ideas. Some of which I may have shared before, but I think it's fine. I have some new followers. 👋

I'll tag @recurringwriter, @razrogue, @ghostwise, @bladesandstars, @allycryz, @lucius-the-sinful, @sevarix-blogs, @bosspigeon, @bhaalbaaby, @tadpole-apocalypse, @the-eldritch-it-gay and YOU. And I encourage you to reshare old wip's regardless of progress if there's nothing new you want to share. <3

Different stuff from the swtor imperial agent oc x Vector Hyllus wip than I shared last time:

“Vector,” she beckoned, “what emotions do you see in my face?” And he blinked, opening his mouth to answer before she added, “What colors do you read in my aura?” He closed his mouth again, swallowing, taking more time to consider. Politely, he moved his hand from her thigh to the side of the bed, and saw instantly in her expression and aura that this was the wrong decision. Quickly, he moved to answer before making another mistake, “You appear … relaxed. Non-judgmental, as you have ever been in the privacy between us. Content and comfortable,” he shifted his legs up onto the bed, bending them beneath himself as he sat closer, “but contrasted by bright red and gold: love and joy. Soft pinks and purples,” he released her hand to slide his fingers up to her elbow again, risking more skin contact, more arm contact, “like a resting nebula. Gentle blue.” He wondered if he should describe her physically next. He rarely did. She never asked. The speckles of black on her lip were as alluring to him as the brightest fruits tempted the sweetest tongues, the jagged shapes of her markings were as lightning and veins of precious metals in the heart of a nest, the curve of her chin, the set of her brow — she was beautiful, and capable of falsehoods, and diplomacy, and destruction, and love. So much love. He lowered his gaze as he finished his answer to her question, “It leads us to conclude that you are happy with how things are, if slightly distracted by—” “By your worrying, Vector,” Cipher Nine chastised, and his gaze found hers again easily, a blush growing on his cheeks. She squeezed the high part of his forearm, pressing her thumb into the soft flesh at the inside of his elbow as she’d once learned to do an age ago, and their shared smile filled Vector’s chest with such aching relief. “I may not see all of it, as you do,” Cipher Nine allowed, “but that doesn’t mean your subtleties escape me.”

Concepts for Astarion's parents: Antoinelle and Rasileth (ray-sill-eth):

Blocked dialogue between Étoile and Astarion for after my amended The Pale Elf climax where Astarion becomes a vampire, in place of either remaining a spawn or rising as the vampire ascendent. At his grave:

Étoile: Is the burial part of the transformation? Or did he just do that to you too? Astarion: No, it just … made me weak. Made me grateful to see him. To see anyone, I suppose. He may have thought it was funny, or maybe he just didn't have a discreet way to haul my corpse around at the time. Étoile: Who would have arranged for the tombstone? Did you have an estate? Was it Cazador, or someone you knew? Astarion: My … my parents. Étoile: Are they alive? Astarion: (as a warning) Étoile. Étoile: (imagining the disaster of encountering them without warning in the street) It's important. Astarion: They cannot see me. There's almost nothing left of the man I was. Certainly their son is long dead, buried here, while I stalked the streets like a ghost. Étoile: You can reinvent yourself. You can choose a new name and a new direction. And still I will cherish you, and your many incarnations. But you were stolen from them. If we survive this, I would like to meet them with you. To give yourself closure, if nothing else. Astarion: I have closure. They're as dead to me as much as I am to them. I'm here. I'm here! I survived. I won. They didn't even know I was missing. It would shame them to have even a fraction's worth of context for what I survived. And I… I don't want their pity, their grief. [a pause, hysterical] Their relief?! Should they have any, would only be burdensome. I can't carry it.

Possible scene concept for Upper City award ceremony involving Astarion's mother:

Astarion's Mother is a clerk / archivist in Baldur's Gate's Parliament, and they are there to receive some award / recognition / payment for their part in saving the city. And recognizing him, she reaches out to him in the crowded official venue where the Watch and important players are present -- she calls his name, she holds his arm; and his expression reveals in an instant he knows her, that this is his name, but his companions are scattered (because he doesn't actually (yet?) want to be recognized in high society while the future of the vampire spawn and himself are still contentious) and so he is free to deny her: she's mistaken. He uses some magic to make the lie take, but there are failsafes for this sort of thing in this kind of venue. [An important character (probably Florrick)] has charge of the guards, all pointed on him now, bringing more attention to the moment than it might've had otherwise. And it perhaps mirrors something he made a ruling on. Maybe he condemned a g/ur for improper use of magic on forbidden grounds against a family member, when the g/ur people insisted repeatedly that the law had no business over familial disputes. They were so often condemned by society, they did not mean to condemn one another. Let them sort out their own business, they pleaded, and he refused. In the "present" Étoile asks if there isn't a fine they can pay, and the important character says if Astarion releases the spell, then a fine can be discussed. His mother is glassy-eyed as the magic fades, but addresses him no more, and says to [the important figure] there should be no charges, and leaves.

Sharing two more wips more blocked dialogue (between Wyll and an oc (Zavorys)) and a few sentences as a sexual scene concept (between Étoile and Raphael) below the cut.

Years post-canon. Maybe seven, maybe more than ten. Wyll and Zavorys are married with three children (of which two are adopted):

After a long day, Wyll holds a book, staring into space instead of reading, while Zavorys half-sleeps at his side. They can hear him thinking. Zavorys: Wyll? Wyll: Yes, my sweet? Zavorys: You seem distracted, is everything alright? Wyll: I want to ask you something. Zavorys: Something serious? Wyll: Something important, but not serious. Zavorys: Then can it wait until the morning? I'm tired. Wyll: Yes, it can wait until morning.

Sunrises on the bedroom. Zavorys rises first, they make a mockery of his name and press a cold nose into his neck. He has some humor about it, and pulls them into tired kisses. Zavorys: Wyllace? Wyll: Mm. Mmm? Hm-hmm. Zavorys: You had something important you wanted to talk about? Wyll: I did, I— Do you want to eat first? Be with the children? Zavorys: We have some time. Whatever you prefer, it's your concern. Wyll: I love you. (more kisses) My beautiful, considerate wife. Zavorys: (more kisses) My handsome, deflecting husband. Wyll: (handsy) No one could blame me for my distraction when your lips are so soft, when your body is so lush, when my heart and yours dance with such passionate familiarity. Zavorys: (good-spirited warning) Wyll. Wyll: (a sigh as he drops his hands) I want to talk about our relationship. I want to talk about exclusivity. Zavorys: Go on. Wyll: I … love what we have. What we share. I don't want to upset your trust in me if this subject is too difficult. Zavorys: I can handle a conversation, Wyll. Wyll: In my early adventures as the Blade of Frontiers, you know that I took lovers. A sweet maiden's kiss, a gentleman's tryst, a lover under the stars. And some of them were sad partings, but most of them were not … and they didn't feel … like love, or even like possibility. From this, and the stories of my youth, and from my father's loneliness … I used to think that romance, for me, would only take one shape: a single partner, a traditional, dedicated, all-consuming love that could move the heavens in its purity and devotion. Zavorys: And now? Wyll: And now that I have that, you mean? Zavorys: Don't be smart. Wyll: (agreeing) And now. (sincere) I would either hesitate to call any love pure, or I would not hesitate to call all love pure. I've seen the ease with which Halsin's joy infects his partners, the work Étoile puts in to ensure their lovers feel appreciated, the care Shadowheart takes in maintaining boundaries, with her lovers, and her religion, and her children — and it doesn't look so different to the loves I've come to know, with you, with our family, or our friends. And so it emboldens me to ask, if you would want to — consider, at your own pace, in your own time — inviting Étoile and Astarion, to … being part of our relationship. They might be frustrated with me in this because of years ago, but they would be gentle with you, and I would be willing — and interested in putting in the work to see if this could agree with us, to find and feel love in this way. Zavorys: (gentle mockery) You're so delicate. Wyll: Hardly.

Zavorys: Has this been on your mind since we saw them necking Zevlor in that alleyway? Wyll: Since before, but … it didn't help. Zavorys: (more teasing) It did help. Wyll: Or yeah, it did. Zavorys: (considerate) With forewarning, I can't imagine myself feeling angry about you kissing another, but I don't know… What if they didn't want me? Would you still want to pursue them alone? Wyll: I think they'd reject us both rather than only one of us if it came to that, but … I don't know. I don't think I could be comfortable without you there at first, even if I had your support, but if we did take a lover or a partner, and then wanted to try individual relationships … No, I don't know. I don't know if I'd be secure enough for that. It would depend too much on the person or couple you chose. Zavorys: (a little sad, kneeling over his waist) That's about me again, Wyll. I asked about you. Not initially then, but eventually. Could you see yourself courting couples without me? (insistent) Because I could. I could see us working, as we always have — as we always will, even if your relationships took a different shape than mine. (considerate) You get this guilty set of your shoulders, this frown, when you worry … but there's nothing to worry about. It's okay. Wyll: (vulnerable) I love you. Zavorys: As I love you. (kisses) Invite them to dinner some day before a weekend, and give me at least three days warning. Wyll: There's five days until this coming weekend. Zavorys: There's no rush. I don't know how long it's been on your mind before asking me, but I know you rush yourself. When you're ready. When you want. Wyll: And you? Have you been wanting this without telling me? Zavorys: No, but— I love love, and we know Étoile and Astarion well. If they would want to take me to dinner and kiss you silly — there's a lot they'd do as just our friends, help with the children, with decisions about our lives — it might just be because they are both nosy as all get out, but I do need less thought for them than if you'd have suggested ... Lady Jannath. Wyll: (laughing) Not Lady Jannath. Zavorys: (laughing) Be kind, she's just a woman. Wyll: Sorry. (clearing his throat) You're right though. I understand what you're saying. Zavorys: Good. Now get dressed, we can still be on time for breakfast.

Whether modern setting or canon-setting-AU situation where Étoile and Raphael hate fuck. I just have these sentences on my phone to inject into a project whenever I have a whole scene or setting that suits:

“You'll have to blindfold me so I can cum, because just the sight of you—” Étoile slapped Raphael across the face to silence his insult, and Raphael made to laugh victoriously, but then their large, determined hand gripped around his throat, and Raphael couldn't even be bothered with a cursory display of offense, his lips twisting instantly into a bitten hiss that was half challenge and all relief.

#long post #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #swtor #my writing

[ethereousdelirious]

Would you consider writing Klapollo? 👀 While I love some Apollo whump I'm a big fan of bullying Klavier, maybe he's allergic to flowers his adoring fans have sent him, or he's so burnt out from a recent tour his voice is all wrecked, and a blossoming cold isn't helping matters, both of which Apollo (somewhat begrudgingly) would help him with 💖 Klav is such a show off but his usually perfect appearance being ruined by circumstances outside of his control, maybe his hair is down, or in a ponytail or messy bun instead of its usual drill, avoiding Apollo when he usually /loves/ to tease him. Anyway. I'm rambling sorry 💀

🙇 bully klav gav pls

Wow wow my first time ever writing Kl.apollo :0 Thank you for being my guinea pig!

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: A lil touch of mess? Not very messy, but like. It's not NOT there. (Kl.av sneezes into Ap.ollo's [clothed] chest lmao)

Notes: This is post AJ, presumably before DD. I didn't clarify bc it distracted from the snz, but I imagine this taking place at like. a community cente theater thing, like for a charity fundraiser or smth. Hence why Kl.av is performing solo.

Pre-slash, a lil heavy on the UST. Apollo may be on the cusp of learning something new about himself (👃🏼)

N-E-way, I hope you like it! My first time writing for a pairing is always a challenge, so I'd definitely like to revisit these 2 in the future (maybe even this same concept bc. there's so much K.lavier-wrecking that can be done 👀)

Klavier's sneeze announced his presence before anything else. The sudden "hk'TCHEH!" punched the air, scaring Apollo's disordered thoughts back to darker corners of his brain.

Right.

He was being silly.

He looked around the dressing room, straightening his shirt despite himself. Klavier had arranged his belongings into orderly piles, though the room still felt cramped. There was no glamor, no mystique in the white walls and humming yellow fluorescents.

He'd waited in Klavier's dressing rooms before. It wasn't that strange.

The door creaked open a crack, then a little more. Klavier's blond head peered in, and the smile on his face looked strained, somehow. "Herr Forehea— Hhheehh—" He wrinkled tje bridge of his nose and something about it made Apollo relax all at once. "I— Ach…" He wiggled his nose like a rabbit, tears sparkling in his lashes, then stopped abruptly. "Could you help me with the door, please?"

"Right!" Apollo leapt up and grabbed it, swinging it open so Klavier could come in. "Are you okay?"

The answer was obvious now. Klavier held a crystal vase in both his hands. Flowers exploded from the top of it, out to the sides, in all variety of colors and shapes. Yellow pollen floated in the water and dusted Klavier's face where the stamens had rubbed against his skin.

Klavier's nose wrinkled again, the delicate skin creasing up in straight little lines. Like a maze only Apollo could solve. His gleaming lips parted, wafting the smell of cherry lip gloss over the fragrance of flower's for a fleeting moment. "Ahh… hhk'kTSCH!" His body rocked forward, sloshing water up toward the edge of the vase.

The force of his exhalation sent a great plume of pollen into the air and Apollo winced. "Uh, Gesundheit?"

"Vielen Dank," Klavier said drily, and Apollo tried not to shudder. "What, ah…" He smiled at Apollo, blinking tears out of his eyes. This dulled some of the resplendent dazzle of him, but none of the charm, and Apollo bit his lip. Klavier sniffled. "What did you think of the show?"

"Too loud," Apollo said bluntly. He held out his hands for the vase. "Here, let me take that."

"'Too loud,'" Klavier repeated. "You're one to t-tal—" He froze for a split second too long, mouth hanging open. "KkH'TSCH! Ugh…"

Apollo hefted the vase and forced himself not to stare at Klavier. "Maybe I should throw these out…" He stared at the pristine flowers and the pollen dusting the leaves. It was all over his hands now.

Klavier shook his head and motioned for Apollo to set them down. "They, hhh— They were a gift," he explained breathlessly, artfully arranging himself in a chair. "From the event organizers." He scrunched up his nose between words like it itched.

Apollo couldn't help but stare. "Well, yeah, but—"

Klavier smiled again, that spotlight grin that made Apollo feel like the center of the universe. How he could help but cringe away from it? How could he help but lower his eyes? "They're lovely flowers, Herr Justice. I'm keeping th— ahK'TSCHEH!" 

"Gesundheit."

"Mm." Klavier was still for a moment, perfectly still. The lights made his lips glimmer, and his eyes, and his nose. His cheeks had broken out in a flush.

Apollo licked his lips.

The sight before him was unreal, a weeping Madonna in gold, in purple, in delicate pink and gorgeous brown. Here was Klavier Gavin as few had seen him.

This last sneeze had caused his hair to come loose and fall around his shoulders in ringlets and smears of pollen made lines upon his cheeks.

And.

He was still perfect.

Klavier blinked hard and touched his fingertips beneath one eye. They came away black with eyeliner. He closed off all at once, his posture stiffening. When he laughed, the sound was stiff and humorless. "I must look frightening right now," he said.

The gentle self-deprecation rang too true. Apollo swallowed hard. And even worse than that, Klavier's shoulders now shook.

"Hhk'TSCHF! Ahk'TSHEH!" He bent double in the chair, aiming his desperate, breathy sneezes at the floor between his legs. "Kk'KSTSXH! EkH'TSCH!"

A moment stretched out between them.

Klavier hid his eyes behind his hand, his breathing wet and unsteady.

"...you done?" Apollo asked feebly. When Klavier didn't move, he half-rose. "Hey, Kl‐ Gavin?

Klavier gestured vaguely with his free hand, shooing Apollo away. "Don't look at me."

In any other situation, it might have been a joke. Vain Prosecutor Gavin, rockstar, unable to stomach the idea of being seen in any state of dishevelment. As it was, his voice trembled and fell flat.

"Hey, it's just me." Spying a box of tissues on the vanity, Apollo grabbed a handful and nudged Klavier's knee. "Here, blow your nose."

Klavier took the tissues and scrubbed at his face with them and blew his nose with an airy hiss that didn't sound at all satisfying.

"D'you really want me to leave?" Apollo asked, trying hard not to sound half as crushed as he felt.

"I just..." Klavier sounded very young when he spoke. "I can't imagine I'm very pleasant company right— heh…" He sniffled hard behind the tissues. "Right now."

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

Klavier peered at him over the tissues. His eyeliner had run and smudged, drawing black moons beneath the pink rims of his irritated eyes. He blinked and a few more tears streamed past, landing in the tissues. "Don't I look like a mess?" he asked, searching Apollo's face.

"I mean." Apollo considered him again. Watery pink eyes, messy makeup, hair falling around his shoulders like some kind of Norse god. "A little I guess? So what?"

A hint of pink surged up Klavier's cheeks, bypassing the tissues. It didn't stand out much against the gentle brown of his skin, but Apollo's sharp eyes picked it up anyway. "Doesn't it bother y— hhHK'TSHEH!"

Apollo sighed and stood up. "Not as much as those sneezes do."

They were big, roaring things that bent Klavier double every time. As befitting a rockstar, but they sounded painful.

Klavier answered with another gasp behind the tissues. "Heh—! Hehk'schCH!"

"C'mon, sit up." Apollo snatched up and handful of tissues and tilted Klavier's chin upward. Startled, watering eyes blinked at him, the fluorescents making bright rectangles across deep blue irises. Apollo dabbed at Klavier's eyes and cheeks, bringing up black eyeliner and yellow pollen in irregular splotches. Folding the tissues, he moved downward to Klavier's nose, careful not to irritate the delicate skin.

Still, Klavier twitched and scrunched up his nose. "Careful, A-Apoll—" His chest hitched with stuttering gasps, the skin beneath either nostril gleaming. His breath left his mouth in one brief exhale. "Gah—"

Apollo bit his lip. His fist had clenched around the tissues, ripping them beneath the blunt ends of his nails. "Sorry," he breathed.

Klavier tucked his hair behind his ears and looked around.

"What do you need?" Apollo asked. Seeing Klavier like this— sheepish, exposed— had stirred something in him. He couldn't let Klavier feel so ashamed of something he couldn't help.

"A hair tie, if you can find one." Still, Klavier kept his face turned away, eyes down.

Apollo found one on the vanity and brought it over. At the kast second, he also grabbed a package of makeup wipes. "Here, Ga— Uh." His face warmed. "Klavier."

He watched Klavier tie his hair back in a messy bun, golden locks framing his face. But when Klavier looked inquiringly at the makeup wipes, Apollo shook his head. "Let me help."

Klavier's mouth twitched. "Herr Forehead thinks he's a pro at taking off makeup?"

"Wh— N-no, of course not!" Apollo stammered. The sudden reappearance of Klavier's easy smile calmed him for once instead of riling him up further and he exhaled. "I just want to help."

"Oh?" Klavier spread his legs, sinking down a little in the chair, and all the smudged makeup blurring his features could not censor the brief, lascivious look that flashed across his face. "Then come help."

There was the confidence that Apollo loathed and loved in equal measure. But was it real? Or was Klavier merely posturing because he felt ashamed?

Apollo's cheeks burned regardless and he had to make a conscious effort to unclench the muscles in his thighs before he could take his position in front of Klavier.

He took Klavier's chin in his hand. "Hold still."

As with the tissues, he started with the eyes. Stubborn lines of black still clung to Klavier's lash lines, intensifying his gaze. His eyes were deep blue, mottled with lighter and darker shades closer to his pupils.

Apollo swallowed and moved on to the cheeks, but found no salvation there. The light layer of foundation rubbed away to reveal gentle lines where Klavier smiled, where he wrinkled his nose, and little brown freckles scattered down the bridge of his nose.

Apollo swiped the makeup wipe down Klavier's nose like he could mop them up and Klavier gasped a little. "Careful there—!"

Ah, yes. Prosecutor Gavin and his sensitive nose.

"Sorry," Apollo said, swiping away one last smear of pollen that had clung to the outer edge of Klavier's nostril.

"Apollo!" was all he managed before a sneeze rammed his head solidly into Apollo's chest. "Hhk'KSCH! " The sudden expulsion of breath warmed the skin of Apollo's chest, though not as much as the delayed realization that Klavier was shaking his head a little, rubbing his nose against Apollo's dress shirt. "Kk'tsXch!" Another burst of warmth.

Of their own accord, Apollo's hands found the back of Klavier's head. He rested them there gently, tracing things line of soft hair leading up toward Klavier's bun.

"Get me out of here," Klavier mumbled into Apollo's dress shirt. A moment later, he stiffened and pulled back, staring at Apollo's chest with wide eyes. "I— Your shirt—"

"It's okay." Apollo didn't bother to look down and assess the damage. "Let's get you home."

How could be even a little upset when Klavier was staring at him with those wide, wide eyes? When the strands of hair that had freed themselves from his bun sparkled in the lights? When cheeks burned pink with exertion and embarrassment? How could Apollo ever, ever hold a grudge?

Even if his shirt felt a little clammy now, well… He'd deal with it later.

For now, he had a Prosecutor to look after.

#ethereous writes #snz #snez #sneeze kink #does that tag even still work on new tumblr. lmao.

[chinesegreenteagoldentriangle]

Chinese medicine says tea, are you drinking it right?

Today, I shared an article from the overseas edition of People's Daily, which featured a personal experience of drinking tea by Dr. Zhang Dong, the Chief Physician of the Cardiology Department at Xiyuan Hospital, China Academy of Chinese Medical Sciences. After reading Dr. Zhang's experience, it may challenge some of our perceptions about tea drinking. In popular belief, it has always been considered improper to drink tea on an empty stomach as it can cause discomfort, especially when drinking green tea. However, it seems that the reality is not entirely as we thought.

Taking this opportunity, I would like to share my personal experience with tea drinking. I have been a tea enthusiast for over 30 years and I have some digestive issues, including gastric ulcers and excessive stomach acid. Nevertheless, I can be called a 'tea addict.' I don't smoke or drink alcohol, but I am addicted to tea. I am the kind of person who would rather give up meat than give up tea. I remember starting to enjoy tea when I was in my teens, and my favorite is green tea. I love green tea because it is mainly produced in my hometown, which is located in the core area of China's green tea production known as the 'Golden Triangle.' The ecological environment there is exceptionally good, free from industrial pollution. Therefore, the quality of green tea is very high. Almost every household cultivates tea, which is why I have a special fondness for green tea and its refreshing aroma and taste.

I have a daily ritual of 'three brews' when it comes to drinking tea. By 'three brews,' I don't simply mean changing the water three times. The concept of 'three brews' refers to the following routine: after breakfast, I must brew a cup (or a pot) of tea. I drink the tea before starting work or while working. The second brew is in the afternoon. If I take a nap, I discard the tea leaves from the morning brew and brew a fresh cup with new tea leaves. The third brew is in the evening. I have a habit of taking a walk after dinner, usually in the park for about an hour. When I return home, I brew another cup of tea and savor it slowly. This has been my tea-drinking habit for over 30 years.

I prefer strong-tasting tea, so the tea I drink is usually concentrated. It has been like this all along. If it's too weak, I feel it lacks flavor. Also, the water temperature for brewing tea must be above 90 degrees Celsius because if the water temperature is too low, the fragrance and flavor of the tea won't be fully released. Therefore, I don't like brewing tea with low-temperature water.

In the blink of an eye, it has been over 30 years of drinking tea. I can't claim that tea is a miraculous cure-all, but I rarely get sick, not to mention serious illnesses. Even common colds are rare for me. It has been like this for decades. I haven't even used my health insurance card once. I found that my immune system is robust. Even during the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, I didn't get infected, not even once. Isn't that surprising? I wonder if my strong immune system has anything to do with my regular tea drinking. Of course, apart from drinking tea, maintaining good lifestyle habits is also crucial.

Drinking tea does have benefits for the body, especially green tea. However, it's important to remember not to treat tea as a miraculous cure-all. We should approach it with the mindset expressed in the ancient Chinese book 'Huangdi Neijing': 'Treat before illness manifests, and regulate before disorder occurs.' Because drinking tea not only promotes health but also nurtures the mind.

The following is a forwarded article：

When I was young, I only knew of two types of tea: 'big bowl tea' and 'Biluochun' (a type of green tea). It was later, when I studied traditional Chinese medicine, that I discovered tea is also a medicinal herb. For example, Chuanxiong Tea is mentioned in the book 'Compendium of Materia Medica': 'Tea leaves have a bitter and sweet taste. They enter the Hand and Foot Shaoyin, Taiyin, and Jueyin meridians. Its function is to clear the heart and lungs, cleanse the intestines and stomach. When combined with chrysanthemum, it treats headaches; when combined with ginger, it relieves water retention and can be consumed after drinking alcohol, entering the Bladder and Kidney meridians.' However, tea is inherently cool in nature, and I have a weak and cold spleen and stomach constitution. I remember one time when I drank Pu'er tea, I had to rush to the restroom halfway through. After that, I rarely drank tea. But one chance encounter changed my perspective.

Not long ago, I was strolling around the Wudaoying Hutong near the Yonghe Temple in Beijing when I came across a small shop. The owner of the shop was a good friend of mine who invited me to try Biluochun tea. It is a type of green tea. It was dinner time, and I hesitated to drink green tea on an empty stomach. So I politely declined. But my friend said, 'Give it a try, I guarantee it won't be cooling to your body.' She explained that this tea came from an 80-year-old tea tree growing on a sunny slope in the mountains near Dongting Lake. It was the first harvest of Mingqian tea, hand-picked and processed using firewood, making it different from other green teas. Unable to resist her persuasion, I sat down and tasted this Biluochun tea. After a few cups, to my surprise, my stomach and intestines felt slightly warm and comfortable, with no signs of diarrhea. I let out a few belches and felt quite at ease, and surprisingly, I felt a sense of fullness. I stayed until 8:00 PM, drinking tea on an empty stomach without any discomfort. I even felt a slight sense of fullness and didn't feel hungry. The warm tea entered my stomach, and I started to sweat slightly, feeling incredibly comfortable. Later, my friend gave me some Biluochun tea to take home, and every time I drank it, I had the same experience. It seemed far from being a mere coincidence.

This chance encounter changed my perception of tea, especially green tea, and reminded me of an elder who once said that his father, in his nineties, had been drinking tea his whole life and lived a long and healthy life. Now I realize it's not just due to constitution. Recently, I have been pondering on this and suddenly had a realization.

Although the nature of tea is generally considered cool, whether it ultimately exhibits a cold or warm property depends largely on two factors. Firstly, the growing environment plays a role, whether it is in a predominantly yin, cold, and damp location or a warm and sunny one. Just like grapes in the north differ from those in Xinjiang, Chinese medicinal herbs such as Achyranthes bidentata, known as niuxi, have different properties in Sichuan, where it promotes blood circulation, compared to Huai niuxi in Henan, which tonifies the liver and kidneys. Another example is ginseng, with ginseng from the northeast having a warm nature, while Western ginseng tends to be cooler. These differences are primarily attributed to variations in the places of origin, which encompass factors such as temperature, sunlight, soil, and cultivation methods.

Secondly, the processing method of tea plays an equally important role. Most teas undergo a process called "kill-green," which involves using heat for fixation. Traditional Chinese medicine recognizes that the heating process can alter the cooling or warming properties of medicinal herbs. For instance, raw licorice has a cool and clearing nature, while roasted licorice has a spleen-tonifying and qi-supplementing effect. Raw Rehmannia has a cool nature that cools the blood and promotes blood circulation, while steamed Rehmannia has a slightly warm nature and tonifies the kidneys. Most herbs that undergo heating processes tend to acquire some warm properties, although the specific methods of heating, including the use of firewood or an oven, can also make a difference.

Tea processing involves various steps, many of which involve heat treatment, such as roasting or steaming. These processing techniques determine the coolness or warmth of the tea. I used to believe that fermented teas like black tea or Pu'er tea were not cooling because I didn't understand the fermentation process. Fermentation in tea production often involves spreading the tea leaves and allowing them to ferment at around 25 degrees Celsius, which is different from the heating process. Therefore, in conclusion, the coolness or warmth of tea depends on the environment and processing techniques.

From this perspective, individuals with a cold constitution can still drink green tea, while some fermented teas, such as Pu'er tea, may not be suitable. It is important to find the tea that suits oneself and understand the principle of moderation in order to find the path to health preservation. (Dr. Zhang Dong, Chief Physician of the Cardiovascular Department at Xiyuan Hospital, China Academy of Chinese Medical Sciences)

Article Source: People's Daily Overseas Edition via People's Daily Online

#tea #green tea #chinese tea #qiandao silver needle tea #spring tea #organic tea #tea polyphenols #white tea #black tea #caffeine #Bowl tea #Fermented tea #Black tea #iced tea #matcha #cardamom #hot chocolate #herbal tea #Dark tea #Biluochun tea #Traditional Chinese medicine #Tea leaves #Bitter and sweet #a warm embrace #zhongli my beloved #xiao my beloved #diluc my beloved #genshin impact zhongli #Clear the heart and lungs #Cleanse the intestines and stomach

[butterflyclan]

Mid Winter

Hickorymarsh is practically gasping for air between coughs by the time he finally admits something's wrong.

"I couldn't be sick," He tells Pondfang glumly when, at long last, the coughing fit subsides. "The Clan needs me to be healthy. We need as many healthy warriors as possible."

Pondfang didn't deign to give that a response, instead just giving Hickorymarsh a look that made the tom fold his ears and look away guiltily.

"It's yellowcough, I think," Pondfang said at last. "I can't be sure, of course, but that's what it looks like to me. You've got some yellow gunk coming out of your nose."

"Yellowcough isn't so bad, right?" Hickorymarsh asked hopefully. Pondfang snorted at him, and he looked cowed.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Pondfang sighed in relief. The swelling in Stormclaw's leg had gone down, and the skin wasn't hot anymore. The tom was sleeping peacefully for once. This was good. This was great, actually. Pondfang had declared Shadowbloom free of whitecough earlier that day. Everything was going wonderfully for now. He could only hope it would stay that way for a while.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

"Algae, if you'd step forward please."

Algae blinked in surprise, and the Clan murmured. They'd expected that Sky would be apprenticed now that he was six moons, but instead Algae was being called up. The black she-cat stepped forward cautiously, meeting Parsleystar's eyes.

"This she-cat has proven that she belongs among us. Should she accept, we will welcome her into our fold. Algae?" Algae's heart quivered. She'd found a home here, where she'd least expected it. She'd learned the ways of Clan life from Lynxfur and Burdockheart, and watched Hickorypaw become Hickorymarsh. She wanted... she wanted to stay here.

"I do," Algae called. Parsleystar's eyes crinkled with joy.

"Then I, Parsleystar, leader of ButterflyClan, the Colony of Survivors, bestow upon you a warrior name. From here on forth, you shall be known as Algaesky."

A purr caught in Algaesky's throat as the cats around her roared her new name.

"Skypaw is now six moons old, and ready to be trained," Parsleystar continued after the Clan had calmed down. "Algaesky, I'm entrusting him to you. I know you will train him well."

A lump formed in Algaesky's throat as she touched noses with an eager Skypaw. To be given a new name, a community, and an apprentice, all within a few minutes... it was almost overwhelming.

"Lastly, Sakari has asked to stay with us. She has requested to keep her name, and I have considered this request carefully and decided to accept it. Sakari, from now on you are a full warrior of ButterflyClan. We welcome you warmly into our fold."

Skypaw scrambled away from Algaesky to chatter excitedly at his mother, and she watched her apprentice go, swelling with pride. Today had been a very, very good day.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

"Hey, Algaesky!" Skypaw called. "There's an old tom over here saying that he's looking for ButterflyClan!"

Algaesky bustled over, concern alight in her eyes. The tom looked quite nervous at the sight of her, but nodded to confirm Skypaw's declaration.

"I'm Minty," he introduced himself. "I have some healing skills, and-"

"Healing skills?" Algaesky interrupted. She turned the concept over in her mind. Pondfang would love to be a warrior again, she knew. And it would mean great things for the Clan to have a medic who- well, who knew how to be a medic.

"I'm pretty sure we have a position for you."

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

"I'll be returning to warrior duties now," Pondfang announced immediately upon meeting Minty. "Good luck."

"At least stick around long enough to teach him the job," Parsleystar told him. "Not the medical job, of course. But the job of caring for Clanmates."

"Look at him," Pondfang scoffed. "He's practically trembling. He doesn't need to learn how to care for anyone. He'll have to learn to boss them around!"

"And you're very good at that, Pondfang. Very bossy. I'm sure you'll be a great mentor." Pondfang didn't seem like he knew whether this was a compliment or not. It could have been both. Parsleystar seemed like the kind of cat to compliment and insult you at the same time.

"I'm going back to being a warrior," Pondfang decided, squinting at her.

"Okay," Parsleystar shrugged.

"...I am."

"I didn't say you weren't."

"Fine! I'll teach him how to be bossy! But I'll be doing my warrior duties, not medic ones." Pondfang grumbled to himself as he rustled away. Parsleystar watched him go with a smug air about her before turning her attention to Minty.

"What do you think about the name Mintswirl, dear?"

#clangen #hickorymarsh #pondfang #stormclaw #shadowbloom #algaesky #parsleystar #sakari #mintswirl #skypaw #skyrumble

[smittenroses]

Memories are better than Gifts - Interest check

Ah yes, Christmas, it's coming up, isn't it?

Christmas is an amazing time of year, one of which we can celebrate love, joy and... *checks smudged hand* real people? No no, we're on tumblr, we're lonely fuckers so we're celebrating fictional crushes and OTPs instead.

This idea has been brewing in my mind for a while so I decided to open up the concept to anyone who wants to join, not only to celebrate the year that has come and gone in nearly a blink of an eye, but to celebrate the amazing people I have met in this community.

The collab focuses on the concept of memories that are more precious than any gift, be it soft moments or ones that are made better with the love and support of another.

Status: CLOSED

DEADLINES

Interest check ends: November 30th (Australian time), 16 days after this post. Date fics due: 15th December (Australian time) Masterlist published: December 20th (Australian time)

What's the dress code? (RULES AND REGULATIONS)

You must be following me — new followers are always welcome and you are free to unfollow after the event has finished.

In order to make sure everyone is comfortable, I please ask that you do not write "problematic"* content with the intent of romanticisation — now before you come running at me, pitchforks blazing, this accounts for things such as teacher/student (and similar relationships), paedophilia, racist, transphobic, ableist, etc, content, essentially things that will defiantly cause a stir if it's meant to be portrayed in a romantic light. This however does not include things such as trauma and recovery, mention of past events, age gaps between adults*, etc. Darkfic is also allowed. — *I define problematic content as things that defiantly are considered taboo and frowned upon, hence the wording of this particular rule. — *for age gaps, please do not play on the troupe of the older person waiting for the younger person to come of age, that's creepy. — no age ups are allowed for this collab.

In order to ensure fairness, double-ups are allowed but I am only accepting 3 per character or ship — people enjoy certain characters or ships and that is perfectly fine, being that this is a non-fandom specific collab, but I have to ensure some sort of variety exists. However, should someone drop from the collab and they have a ship or character that was in demand, I can open up that spot for the next person that had requested for that character.

Multiple entries are allowed — however, like the rule prior, there is a limit; one blog is allowed two characters/ships or a character and a ship each.

You do not need to write about Christmas in particular — if you have another Holiday that is celebrated instead of Christmas and want to write about it (e.g Hanukkah), it is 100% accepted; not everyone celebrates Christmas.

How to RSVP (joining the collab)

To join, just send me an ask in which includes your blog name (if you're anon), the character or ship you wish to write for, the fandom and what type of memory you wish to cover. You are 100% allowed to specify AUs and tropes that you wish to cover. — example: smittenroses, Albedo (Genshin Impact), watching the snow fall, modern AU, engagements.

Once you have submitted interest, please reblog this post.

If you are wishing to participate in the NSFW part of the collab (all participants for that half will need to be 18 or older), please direct your asks to @/corruptedroses instead

If you plan on posting to AO3, Wattpad, Quotev, FF.net, etc, please also include that in your ask.

Setting the Table (Requirements)

All submissions are to be written works, however, art is allowed to be included as well if it is a part of your submission(s).

All fics are to be at least 500 words minimum, there is no maximum and you are encouraged to go wild.

Content will be split across two master lists, across two blogs: sfw (smittenroses) and NSFW (corruptedroses), the second one will be hidden behind the new community feature as to protect anyone who is a part of it.

please tag with #memoriesovergifts22 and tag me in it when you're done! Due to the specific Holidays surrounding the collab, fics are asked to be done no later than the 20th of December, the finished list will be published on the 24th of December.

#memoriesovergifts22 #collab #interest check

[insecateur]

i'm backing up VERY OLD stuff from my evernote while i'm thinking about it so it doesn't get lost, and i found this beginning for a fic i wanted to write about animeverse augustine remembering gameverse lysandre. unfortunately i ended up really disliking the anime and i couldn't be bothered to fact-check things so i could write this properly and gave up, but i do still really like the concept... i don't know if i'd ever revisit it again so, since ao3 is down and might be for a while, i'm offering these 1,7k words of unfinished fic from 2017 for your consideration. enjoy

   

The coolness of the air-conditioned restaurant was a welcome reprieve from the harsh summer sun, even if said restaurant was on the lower end of the spectrum as far as quality was concerned. Augustine let his head fall back against the artificial leather of his seat, his neck sticking uncomfortably to it. He groaned, even as the nearest waitress was quickly approaching their table.

"Bonjour," she said, much too cheerfully. Augustine straightened his back. "What will you two gentlemen be having?"

She was cute, with her short red hair and the pen she kept behind her ear. Her uniform was slightly too large for her, but she worked it surprisingly well. Meyer cleared his throat.

"I'll just go for a coffee, please," he said with a smile. It was slightly forced - but Augustine couldn't blame him for not wanting to smile after the hours they'd spent moving boxes and putting together shelves of various sizes.

"I'll have a coffee too, please," Augustine said, moving a strand of hair away from his face. 

The waitress nodded, her eyes following the gesture. He smiled at her, unable to resist the temptation. Her cheeks were a little red. 

"I'll get it right away," she said after a short hesitation. He watched her walk toward the kitchen. 

Meyer sighed, a loud huff that did nothing to hide his - amused - annoyance. "Your shirt is open."

"It's too hot outside!" Augustine protested. He was sweating so much, it was a miracle he hadn't melted yet. The only thing that was preventing him from walking around shirtless was his refusal to appear undignified. Back at the lab, Meyer hadn't had such qualms, but when they'd agreed to take a break, he'd put his shirt back on. 

All things considered, drinking hot coffee probably wasn't the best idea. Augustine blinked toward the window they'd sat at, suddenly struck by - a feeling.

It was hard to explain. He'd had them for a long time now - fleeting moments where he suddenly felt out of place. There never seemed to be a single occurrence that triggered it, and once it was there it lingered, a full body sensation, as if he was suddenly aware that he was not where he was supposed to be.

He certainly was, though. There was nowhere else for him to be - and yet, always, the feeling came back.

He scratched at the stubble on his chin, willing himself to ignore it. He turned back toward Meyer, who was eyeing him cautiously.

"You dissociating on me again?"

When he'd asked around for an explanation for what he kept experiencing, nurses had mentioned that he was probably experiencing dissociation due to stress. Augustine had been unconvinced, but Meyer had mostly been worried.

"Do you ever," Augustine started, but the waitress was coming back, and he pressed his lips together instead of continuing.

She'd redone her make-up, he realized vaguely when she put his cup down in front of him. When she smiled, the glitter in her lip gloss was shining in the light, barely noticeable, but still there. He smiled back.

"Please enjoy," she said, still looking at him. Augustine nodded.

After she was gone, Meyer sighed again. Augustine stared at his coffee.

"Do you ever feel like," he started again, interrupting Meyer mid-gesture as he went to grab his own cup, "like something is missing? Something should be there, but it's not."

"Definitely dissociating," Meyer mumbled before taking a sip of coffee.

"I don't think that's it," Augustine said, frowning. "You've never felt that?"

Meyer took his time enjoying his coffee before putting it back down, the cup hitting its plate with an unpleasant clink.

"Well, I guess so," he said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Something's definitely missing from my life."

Immediately, Augustine felt his stomach tighten.

"Jeremy, I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't think-"

Meyer laughed, or coughed, it was difficult to tell.

"S'alright. I know that's not what you mean. I've never felt it your way, though."

Still feeling guilty about inadvertently bringing bad memories to the forefront of his friend's mind, Augustine twirled his spoon around in his cup, gathering his thoughts.

He couldn't remember when exactly it had started, but it seemed to get stronger as time went on. He'd lived with it just fine - it was just a few moments of emptiness in a life where he was very much busy all the time. Still, when he was alone, it could hit him hard. An inescapable helplessness, like trying to remember a dream.

"It's like how we can't see all the colors, you know," he tried to explain, holding his cup with both hands. "Like, say, if red didn't exist - wouldn't you miss it?"

He thought back to the waitress and the color of her hair. Meyer drank what was left in his cup.

"If red never existed, then I don't see how we could miss it," he said after he was done.

It wasn't a bad argument, but it only served to make Augustine even more thoughtful. He sipped his coffee slowly.

He'd never admitted it to anyone, not even Meyer, but after what the nurses had said he'd taken to looking into this through other means. He'd researched legends and rumors and fantastical accounts by people who definitely had had too much to drink. He'd found nothing that was satisfactory enough.

If red wasn't a color, and only one person could feel it was missing - then what? What did it mean?

Before he knew it, he'd drunk all of his coffee. He stared at his reflection, dark and distorted at the bottom of the cup.

"I need to eat something," he grumbled.

"I thought we were saving ourselves for dinner? I was looking forward to a late night barbecue with my dear friend," Meyer moaned in fake disappointment.

"I need to eat a cake," Augustine went on, ignoring his friend's pleas. "Excuse me," he called out to the waitress.

She blinked but walked in their direction fast. "Yes? Are you done?"

"He needs to eat a cake," Meyer let out. He rolled his eyes.

That made her perk up slightly.

"Oh, in that case, would you like to try our apple pie? It's today's special."

"Sounds great," Augustine said. "I love apples."

The waitress gave him a smile so wide, he couldn't help but offer her one in return. She left swiftly, her shoes hitting the linoleum floor hard in her rush to go get his order done.

When Augustine turned his gaze toward his friend, Meyer was staring at him thoughtfully, holding his chin propped up against his fist.

"If it's not dissociation, maybe you're just lonely?" he said.

Augustine fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm not-"

"Come on. You're still on your own after all these years... maybe what you feel missing in your life is, just, a partner."

"Are you trying to hint at something? Finally decided to face your crush on me head on?"

Meyer snorted. "You're deflecting."

Augustine was about to argue that he was not, in fact, deflecting, but the waitress was already coming back with his warm pie slice. He welcomed it with much more enthusiasm than probably was necessary.

"Thank you so much, you're a darling," he said emphatically, making the waitress blush hard.

"Please enjoy," she stuttered before running away, apparently appalled by her own embarrassment.

The pie looked wonderful, and smelled just as good. Augustine's appreciation of it was short-lived, unfortunately, because as soon as he lifted his fork to dig in, Meyer was back on his case.

"Aren't you sick of the bachelor life? I know you like flirting, but..."

"I can't believe you've managed to make this about my love life," Augustine mumbled, biting onto a piece of pie. "I'm fine. Honestly."

Meyer stared in disbelief, but he did not insist further. It wasn't exactly the first time they'd had this conversation, although usually it began the other way around. There was relief in knowing they at least had each other, Augustine mused.

The pie was definitely homemade, and could hope to rank among the best he'd ever tasted. His only complaint would have been that the apples were too soft; he missed the crunchiness. Would he still miss it if it did not exist in the first place?

Most likely. He chuckled to himself.

"Good pie?" Meyer asked.

Instead of answering, Augustine elected to sacrifice his last bite and presented it to his friend, sitting atop of his own fork. Their waitress came back to check on them at the exact moment when Meyer accepted it inside his mouth.

She cleared her throat. Augustine beamed at her, soothed by his pastry.

"The pie was great," he said.

Meyer swallowed his bite. "Sure was."

The waitress nodded, but her demeanor had chilled remarkably. She took away the cups and plates and told them they could pay at the bar in a voice that transpired affected indifference. Augustine quirked his eyebrow, but made no comment. Meyer merely rolled his eyes.

"Think she thought we were dating?" he asked once they were back out to fend off the sun.

"If she did, she must have thought I was a terrible person for visibly flirting while on a date," Augustine said as he fumbled through his pants' pockets to find his cigarettes. "Would explain why she wouldn't look at me while I was paying," he added once he'd positioned one in-between his lips.

Meyer scoffed. 

"I hope you don't smoke in front of the kids."

"Never," Augustine said, blowing out smoke as he spoke. "You always say that."

They bickered about their unhealthy habits, allowing Augustine to forget about his prior bout of emptiness, and walked back toward the lab.

#samfic #not tagging any ship but this does feature augustine and meyer ftr

[mahoutoons]

Sonic Dimensions: Chapter 7 - Alternative Blaze - Ember

yes, i used one of blaze's concept design as the inspiration for her alternate self. i originally considered using proto-blaze as the design but then again, other characters need to be able to tell they're the same person and proto-blaze looks really different from her final design. so anyways, enjoy.

AO3 link

The group landed near a palace. It looked a lot like the Imperial Palace, with its white marble structure, its large arches, and the domes on the top. Blaze looked at it and blinked. “Wait… did we end up in the Sol dimension?” she asked. “It can’t be,” Tails responded. “Something about this place seemed…. different.” “Let’s go inside,” Blaze said. “If this is the Sol dimension I know then it should be no problem.”

The group went to the palace. Two guards stood in front of the door, both cats wearing armour and carrying spears. They stopped the group when they saw them. One of them took a close look at Blaze. “Huh, I didn’t know our princess had a twin,” he commented. “Your princess?” Tails asked. “So she’s in the palace?” “What business do you have with Princess Ember?” asked one of the guards. “Ember?” Blaze was surprised. “Do you not know the princess of the Flame dimension?” one of the guards said in almost a mocking way. “I see. So this is an alternate version of the Sol dimension,” Tails mused. “Over here, they call it the Flame Dimension.” “What is that fox boy going on about?” asked a guard. “We’re from an alternate dimension,” Tails explained. “Blaze here is an alternate version of your dimension’s princess.” “So what you’re saying is, she’s impersonating the princess,” a guard said. “Wait, no-” But the next thing they knew, they were brought before the Flame dimension’s Princess, their hands bound behind their back.

Princess Ember looked very similar to Blaze. Her ponytail was turned to the front instead of the back. She wore a shalwar kameez with flame designs. She also wore the same bindi Blaze wore. She sat on her throne, musing over the group before her. Her eyes were fixated on Blaze. “Your majesty, we caught this imposter and her friends just outside,” a guard claimed. “She said she was an alternate version of you.” Ember studied her for a moment. “Its true she does look a lot like me,” she said. “Your majesty, you have to believe us,” Tails insisted. “I find it hard to believe all this,” Ember contemplated. “But I feel the fox boy isn’t lying. Guards, please untie them. I wish to speak to Blaze.” The guards did as they were told. “Blaze, please come with me,” Ember pointed to the rest of the group. “The rest of you, outside.” “But-” Tails began. “Are you disobeying the princess?” From the way she glowered, no one said anything else against Ember. The rest of the group went to wait outside, while Ember motioned for Blaze to follow her.

“Man, this alternate version of Blaze sure takes the whole princess thing more seriously,” Sonic said once they were outside the palace. “I…. I r-really hope h-her highness will b-be okay,” Serena whispered. “Don’t worry Serena, she’ll be fine,” Amy assured her. She then leaned in to whisper to Serena, “If you’re really worried about her, we can sneak into the palace.” “Ah…. n-no thanks…. I-I wouldn’t want t-to cause her highness a-a-any problems.”

Meanwhile, Ember took Blaze to the balcony. It overlooked the little island they were in. Blaze could see greenery spread all over, with little splotches of colour from the houses that were there. There was a little table in the balcony, with two chairs. Ember sat on one of them and motioned for Blaze to sit in another. Ember offered her a cup of tea. Blaze found it hard to refuse, even though she’d already had tea in the previous dimension. “So you’re me from another dimension,” Ember recalled. “Please do elaborate.” Blaze told Ember about her job to guard the Sol emeralds, how she met Sonic and how him, along with Cream opened up her heart and made her realize relying on others is not so bad. She then told her about Eris and Eggman and how they’re out to cause chaos in this dimension too. At this Ember’s ears perked up. “Oh, the human and the cat?” she asked. “My guards caught them trying to break into the palace. They’re in prison now. You don’t have to worry about them.” “That’s good, princess,” Blaze said. “But you don’t know them. They’re cunning. Especially Eggman, the human. He’ll surely find a way out. And Eris, she’s powerful even without all the Chaos and Sol emeralds with her. She can definitely break out no problem.” “And if they do, we’ll catch them again,” Ember said. “With all due respect, Ember-” “You will address me as ‘your highness’” Ember snapped. Blaze swallowed her breath. “With all due respect, your highness” she emphasized, “you can’t keep catching them. At this rate they’ll steal this dimension’s Sol emeralds and-” “Enough!” Ember shouted, “Just because you allowed your dimension’s emeralds to be stolen doesn’t mean its my problem!” “I didn’t-” Blaze began, but Ember held out a finger indicating for her to stop talking. “You allowed yourself to become weak, to rely on others as you said, and look at what happened! I couldn’t stand you explaining that but I let you go on because I was intrigued. But now? After everything I see what you are! You’re a failure of a princess who couldn’t protect her own dimension!” “NO SHE’S NOT!” a familiar shrill voice shouted. Blaze and Ember looked behind to see Amy and Serena. The boys were there too, Tails holding up his arms in a way to indicate that he did not agree to this. “How did you all get in here?” Ember asked. Ignoring the question, Amy continued, “Blaze is an amazing princess! She may be socially awkward but underneath it she’s kind and truly cares for the people of her dimension! And she wants what’s best for them! That’s not being a failure as a princess, that’s being a caring person. That’s what a princess should do!” “A-Amy’s right!” Serena said. “H-H-Her highness is…. A-a very kind person…. Sh-she truly c-c-cares for everyone…. And sh-she does h-her best f-for others…. And…. a-and she’s p-protected the S-Sol emeralds for s-s-so long…. So…. so she’s not a failure! Sh-She’s an amazing person and… and i-it wasn’t her fault the S-Sol emeralds were stolen… it was…. I-it was…” “No it wasn’t your fault either Serena,” Blaze interjected knowing what Serena was about to say. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault the Chaos and Sol emeralds were stolen. But we’re getting them back one by one!” Blaze then turned to Ember. “I’m sorry that you think holing yourself away and being aloof is the way to go. Believe me, I was like that once too. But thanks to Sonic and everyone else here, I’ve learned that relying on others is not a weakness. It is a strength. I hope you may one day see that, your highness.” Saying this, the group left the palace before Ember could say anything.

“Well, I couldn’t convince Ember to help,” Blaze said. “Its alright then. We’ll stop Eggman and Eris ourselves.” “Yep. We can surely do it together!” Sonic agreed. “Amy, Serena, thanks for standing up for me there,” Blaze said. “Ah it was nothing,” Amy said. “Serena was worried about you so I thought we’d sneak into the palace to see how you were doing.” “A-Amy!” Serena blushed. “Aww, you were worried about me?” Blaze asked. “I…. ah…. Well….” Blaze put a hand on her shoulder, causing Serena’s face to turn completely red. “Its alright, I’m fine,” she assured her. “You don’t have to worry about me.” “I….. ahahaha….. Well…. Uh….” she struggled to form coherent sentences. Amy giggled.

Just then there was an explosion. The group looked back. Eggman and Eris had escaped from prison! Eris effortlessly took out the guards and made their way inside the palace. “We’ve got to stop them!” Blaze exclaimed. “At this rate they’ll get the Sol emeralds of this dimension too! And Princess Ember could be in danger!” The rest of the group nodded and ran inside the palace.

Ember, on hearing the explosion, immediately went to the chamber where the Sol emeralds were kept - or rather, a singular Sol emerald. It was green and cut in a square, similar to Blaze’s Sol emeralds, and had a glow similar to the Master emerald. Ember went near it and touched it. “I will not let anyone have this Sol emerald!” she said softly. At that time, Eggman and Eris had made their way to the chamber. “No one is allowed in the Emerald Chamber without express permission from me!” Ember shouted. “Oh spare me the rules, Princess,” Eggman said. “Now, be a good girl and hand over the Sol emerald.” “Never! I’d never hand it to anyone - especially the likes of you!” “Then you’ve made your choice,” Eris said. She lifted her hand. Ember immediately ducked out of the way of the black beam that came from Eris’ hand. She summoned her fire powers and from her hand, shot a large beam of fire at Eris, who caught it in her hand and directed it back to Ember. Ember jumped out of the way. She covered her hands with fire, then jumped up to fight Eris. She managed to get Eris to the ground. Ember then tried to land punches on Eris. Eris caught her hand and pinned it behind her back. Ember struggled. “Its no use trying to beat me, Princess,” Eris whispered in her ear. She then twisted Ember’s hand. As Ember screamed in pain, Eris threw her across the room.

Ember was injured but she still tried to get up. She tried to summon her powers but her hand throbbed in pain from what Eris had done. Eris stood over her. Ember had a determined expression on her face. “Prepare to die, Princess!” Eris raised her hand. But just as she was about to deliver the final blow, Blaze and the rest of the group rushed inside. “PRINCESS EMBER!” Blaze screamed. Eris turned around. “Great, the annoying pests are here,” she said. “You guys…. You’re not allowed in the Emerald Chamber without-” “Is this really the time?” Knuckles asked. “Is that the…. The Sol Emerald you guard?” Blaze asked. “It reminds me more of the Master Emerald,” Knuckles said. “It doesn’t matter what it is! Its power will be mine!” Eris declared. “Oh no, we’re not letting you get anywhere near the Sol emerald!” Sonic said.

Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, and Amy began to fight Eris while Blaze and Serena went to help Ember up. “Y-Your highness…. A-a-are you a-alright?” asked Serena. “I’m fine!” Ember said. “She just caught me off guard!” She touched her other hand, the one Eris had twisted. Blaze noticed that. “You’re hurt,” she said. “Yeah, well, its nothing. I can still fight.” “No” Serena said. “Y-Your highness you sh-sh-shouldn’t strain yourself wh-when you’re hurt.” “But… I want to stop her! She’s going to take my Sol emerald! She’ll put my people in danger!” Ember said. “You really care about your people, don’t you Ember?” Blaze asked. “That’s something I relate to. We’ll think of a plan to get the next set of emeralds out of Eris.”

Suddenly, Eris ambushes them, throwing a beam their way. Serena acts quick and flies Blaze and Ember away. “A-Are you two a-alright?” she asked. She realized she was too close to Blaze’s face and suddenly backed away, blushing. “I-I-I-I’m s-s-sorry y-your highness.” she stammered. Blaze’s face was a bit red too.

Sonic and the others came to check on them. “She’s still incredibly powerful!” Sonic said. “Even with the power of only three of the emeralds!” “No matter what you’ll be no match for me!” Eris said. Blaze came forward, her hands covered in flames. She shot them at Eris. She dodged. “You know that won’t work on me, Princess,” she said. “Why do you even try? You failed to defeat me with the power of the Sol emeralds. What makes you think you can take me on just like that?” “Because I’m not doing it alone,” Blaze said. “I…. I have Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy and Serena to help me.” “I thought a Princess of the Sol dimension shouldn’t rely on others,” Eris said. “You really are a failure, Blaze the cat. If anything its you who isn’t worthy of the title of Imperial Princess.” “N-No, you’re wrong Eris,” Serena said. “What?” “H-H-Her highness….. She c-c-cares about everyone…. She a-always thinks a-about everyone….. She d-does her best so that h-her people will be happy….. A-and she’s l-loyal…. L-loyal to her kingdom a-and her friends…. So d-d-don’t say the p-princess is a failure…. She deserves her title!” “Serena…” Her face gave a tint of red. “Serena’s right!” Amy said. “Blaze is amazing! No matter what she puts her duty to her kingdom above all!” “And she does her best to make sure people are happy!” Sonic said. “That’s what a true Princess is like!” Tails added. “You guys…..” Blaze was flattered at how her friends defended her. “I may not be able to defeat you,” Blaze said summoning flames again. “But that doesn’t stop me from trying. I am the Imperial Princess. It is my duty to rule over the Sol dimension fairly and protect its people. Even if it means I might get hurt!” She jumped, with renewed confidence. She and Eris fought for a while. Eris seemed to get the upper hand at first. She threw Blaze against a wall. Blaze lay there, seemingly unconscious. “Y-YOUR HIGHNESS!” Serena screamed. “This is the end, Imperial Princess,” Eris smirked. Blaze’s eyes suddenly shot open. She shot a ball of fire at Eris, powerful enough to knock two more emeralds from her - a Chaos emerald and a Sol emerald. Sonic rushed to grab them.

“Sh-She’s alright,” Serena said. “You….. You little….” She was suddenly hit by another ball of fire, this time from Ember. “You two have done enough,” Ember said. “GUARDS! ARREST THESE TWO!” Guards entered the Emerald Chamber. Before they could arrest them, Eris opened another portal and she and Eggman jumped in. The guards were left stunned. “Should we-” one of them began. “Don’t!” Sonic said. “It leads to another dimension!” “Huh? What are you people doing here?” asked the guard. “No one is allowed in the Emerald Chamber without the Princess’s express permission!” “Its alright, guards,” Ember said. “They helped me.” “What? Oh, in that case….” The guards backed away. Ember turned back towards the group. “I suppose I must thank you for your help,” she said, though she looked like she had to swallow her pride to admit so. “All in a day’s work, Princess,” Sonic said. “And…. I suppose I owe Princess Blaze an apology. You aren’t a failure. I’ve seen how much you care for your kingdom now.” “Its alright, your highness,” Blaze said. “Someday maybe you can learn to rely on others too,” Amy said. “I’d prefer doing things by myself,” Ember said. “Though I will admit, having someone help isn’t so bad once in a while. So, what are we going to do about….. That?” Ember gestured to the tear. “We’re going to the other dimension to stop Eris,” Sonic said. “I see…. I wish you luck on your journey,” Ember said. “Thank you, your highness,” Tails said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must tend to my injured hand.” Ember walked away, holding her injured hand.

“Five down, two to go,” Sonic said. “Lets get going everyone.” And with that they jumped into the tear again.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic oc #sonic dimensions #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #blaze the cat #serena the butterfly #dr eggman #eris the cat #ember the cat #my fanfiction

[unmeinoniwa]

Urianger arrives not too late for the holiday, having been bedecked in a festive shawl and fortunately capable of delivering a gift to theo. Call it the Saint's blessing. "I know not if thou followeth an equivalent tradition to Starlight, but I did bring these for thee. Happy holidays, my dear friend." He hands over a package alongside leaning to kiss Theo's cheek in the same movement. Within the package, a small bird mammet and a glasses chain, both handcrafted by your dear astrologian. "I had hoped to prevent thee from spending what I see as a holiday in solitude."

ㅤㅤ IN most cases, the holidays weren't exactly something that Theodore thought to celebrate because well, what sort of holiday could he celebrate while he resided in a place that stood between worlds ? Truthfully, it didn't bother him much considering that his concept of a holiday was registered as a mere event that people gathered for. While it was a pleasant thought, it was difficult to feel any attachment to it when he's never experienced it himself. Not to say he wasn't curious but it always ended up as a passing thought ... up until recently anyways.

ㅤㅤ Truth to be told, being in Eorzea this past year changed the librarian in a lot of ways than he realized. Ordinary things he once yearned for had quickly become the norm and he found himself becoming more selfish; eagerly seeking out the companionship of others and wanting to participate in these celebrations that were considered normal to the people of this world. Of course, having experienced such things ... he found himself anticipating Urianger's presence in one way or another while he was quietly working away in the library. It felt almost wrong to expect his beloved friend at such an important time of the year but given how frequent their interactions were, it became natural.

ㅤㅤ With the glow of his sapphire brooch, he was notified of Urianger's presence and almost immediately, he stood up to greet his friend. He offered a heartfelt smile in greeting at the sight of Urianger being cloaked in festive wear. A small laugh escaped his lips. " I didn't peg you to be someone who dressed up for the holidays but not to say this isn't quite the festive sight. And -- ... oh. T - thank you ... ! " Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he was handed his gift and a kiss to the cheek to accompany. He momentarily rubbed at the kissed spot, feeling his cheeks heat up from the thought of Urianger's affection but he didn't ponder on it long when he realized he should open his gift.

ㅤㅤ He carefully unwrapped the present to reveal an intricately handcrafted bird mammet and glasses chain. His eyes widened in disbelief and he looked to Urianger, almost speechless. " ... This is -- did you make these yourself ? These are amazing ! Is this ... one of those mammets ? It's so well-crafted and not to mention adorable ! And a new chain for my glasses ! Oh ... " Ah, curses. He felt tears prickling in his eyes as emotion overcame him. He did his best to further restrain his tears and blink them away but to no avail. Realizing he was even shedding tears, he quickly wiped his tears away with his sleeve. " S - sorry. No one's gotten me anything like this before ... you're the first person put so much thought and effort for someone like me ... I ... I don't know what to say ... I just -- thank you. Really. " He gazed upon his gift with a warm expression but before long, his countenance was veiled with hint of shame; his lips tightening into a line and his emerald hues lowering to the ground. " ... Truth to be told, I was selfishly hoping that you'd come here tonight again. I honestly didn't expect you to bring me anything but ... I ... thank you. Thank you so much, Urianger. " Theodore held the present close to his heart with a tender smile. " ... I don't usually celebrate the holidays but if it's truly alright with you then I'd love to spend Starlight with you. I - I don't think I can match up to what you've given me but ... the least I can do is impart some tomes you've been eager to bring home with you ... ! Oh and uhm ... holiday treats ! Homemade ! " Although he knew it wasn't obligatory, he wanted to do something for Urianger too ... to show his appreciation and how much he cared for him.

#minarcana #✦ INTERTWINED paths. (answered.) #✦ RECORDING the fates in the stars. (theodore ic.) #ME FALLING TO THE GROUND #theo would absolutely DIE for urianger im SOBBING #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA #MERRY CHRISTMAS GAYS!!!

[napkindream93]

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This is as a end result of the scan sees proper via your baby, so the pictures present her inner organs. Plus, the pictures may help medical doctors spot an issue along with your baby and make it simpler for them to explain it to you. Verywell Family content is rigorously reviewed by a group of qualified and experienced reality checkers. Fact checkers evaluate articles for factual accuracy, relevance, and timeliness. We depend on the most present and reputable sources, which are cited within the text and listed at the backside of every article. The opinions expressed here are the views of the writer and don't essentially reflect the views and opinions of News Medical. More support by the father after visualizing the baby’s form and motion. Interactive, as it allows the operator to capture completely different viewing planes by shifting the probe. She’s liable for making sure BabyCentre’s well being content material is correct, helpful and simple to understand. Before 27 weeks your child has very little fats under her pores and skin, so the bones of her face will present by way of.

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[andypantsx3]

subtle | shouto todoroki/reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,171 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You're determined to track down the sender, certain it's a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

There was a box on your desk.

There was a box on your desk, and the sight of it was enough to instantly set you on edge.

The box looked normal enough, if a little fancy, maybe. Its lacquered top glinted brightly under the fluorescent office lighting, its smooth, polished sides waterfalling into the soft matte of your desktop underneath. You weren’t close enough to read the inscription, but you could just make out some elegant, curling script inlaid into the top of the box, possibly the name of whichever company had produced it.

The box looked very normal, in fact. Only, you knew it wasn’t. Boxes didn’t just show up in the middle of the Todoroki Hero Agency, a campus swimming with pros and armed with layers of security so deep it took even you--Shouto Todoroki’s manager--fifteen full minutes to get through screening every morning. It was something very much like being a prison guard at Tartarus.

So either this box meant the agency was dealing with a security breach the likes of which had scarcely been seen before, or someone had mistaken your desk for somebody else’s.

Which, considering it was Valentine’s Day, made a lot more sense.

Buoyed by the realization it wasn't a security risk, you crept closer, peering at the box, and the script resolved itself into the name of the extremely fancy chocolatier in Hiroo district that you made a point of drooling over every time you had to make a house call on Shouto. Their prices were literally insane, so you had never let yourself wander inside, unwilling to shell out an entire week’s pay for a tiny set of chocolates. Even if they did look absolutely fucking unbelievable from the window.

Your mouth watered.

That confirmed it--this was a Valentine's gift, and it was definitely a mistake. For the briefest of seconds, you’d wondered if maybe you had gotten obligatory office friendship chocolates, but this was too much. Some poor, love-sodden flop had gone out, spent their week’s pay on someone they were clearly very serious about, and then proceeded to fuck the entire thing up by plonking their gift straight onto your desk instead of their intended’s.

You frowned, quickly checking the box over for some kind of clue as to who had left it. There was no note included, nothing even mildly helpful that would give you the slightest hint of the person who'd left it here. Which left you with the question of how to return the box to the sender without knowing who they were, or how to pass it on to whoever they’d really meant it for.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, staring hard at the surface of the box like you could crack its code if only you glared hard enough. The box stared back at you, unhelpfully silent.

You were still skewering the box with your gaze some minutes later, determined to unravel its secrets, when a deep voice murmured from your doorway.

“You look puzzled."

You startled, whipping around to find Shouto propping up the wall, looking as unfairly handsome as usual. He was watching you intently, those heterochromatic eyes fastened to your face in that careful way he had, the one that always made you feel too warm and slightly unfocused. As usual, it was all you could do to remind yourself that you were a professional and he was something solidly between a friend and a coworker, and no matter how cute and attentive he was, you shouldn't get any ideas.

This morning, he was dressed in his hero uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, his distinctive hair only a little ruffled from his early patrol. It wasn’t often someone tried something in the districts he watched over anymore, probably too nervous to find themselves on the wrong end of the number four hero’s temper. You knew from the reports you received to your phone that the only trouble he’d encountered this morning was a pack of amorous school girls purposely misusing their quirks to draw his attention.

Thirty minutes ago, in fact, you’d almost spit out your coffee laughing at a photo of him looking wildly uncomfortable as he attempted to ice down some girl’s lava quirk with his right hand while fighting off her unfathomably enormous bouquet with his left. It was only right that he should suffer once a year, when every other day he got to stalk about as handsome as you please, oblivious to the effects his appearance had on every breathing person within a five mile radius.

You gave him an absent nod, gaze drawn back to the box on your desk.

“Somebody accidentally left something in here,” you told him, gesturing to it. “I’m trying to figure out how to track down who it was, or who it was meant for.”

Shouto made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a cough, and it was enough to startle you into looking up at him again.

“What?” you asked, peering at him. Was he coming down with something? It wasn't often he got sick, but when he did, he usually attempted to hide it and needed to be steamrolled into taking time off. You looked him over, trying to assess whether or not you needed to start badgering him now.

Shouto gazed back at you evenly, his expression deceptively bland. “...You think it’s not for you.”

You felt yourself blink at him, surprised by the comment and struggling to discern his meaning. What did he mean, you think it’s not for you? “Of course it’s not for me, Shouto, it’s from Grégoire Chardin.”

You knew he’d know the place, considering he lived in the same fancy rich people neighborhood as the chocolatier, but Shouto looked unimpressed.

“Why should that mean it’s not for you?” he asked, his tone dry.

The remark caught you off guard, as his comments sometimes did, and you bit down something like a smile. Bless his sweet, oblivious, rich boy heart. Either he overestimated your appeal to his agency staff, or he really did not understand the concepts of cost and return on investment.

“It’s expensive, it’s not something you would give someone as obligatory chocolates,” you explained, watching as a white eyebrow went up. His expression sharpened into something you couldn’t read well.

“It could be a secret admirer,” he said.

You stared blankly back at him, absolutely floored by the idea.

He thought you had a secret admirer? The idea sent an excited thrill all the way down to your toes, but you quickly squashed the feeling. So far, you'd never been on the receiving end of any furtive but romantic gestures, and you really didn't get any interested vibes from anyone in the office, no lingering glances or excuses to spend more time with you. The person who paid you the most amount of attention was Shouto, which was to be expected, considering how closely you worked together. And obviously he wasn't interested, he was just happy to stand in your doorway spouting wild conspiracies about his agency staffers like they were completely reasonable things to say.

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he took an intent step forward into your office. “Is the point of a secret admirer not to be exactly that--secret? How can you be sure?”

You couldn’t help it--you gaped at him, your face going weirdly warm. Okay, was he--was he serious? You obviously weren’t the most unfortunate creature on earth, and you even had your good days, but nobody in their right mind was going to attempt anything with you when there were girls like Nejire Hado and Ibara Shiozaki roaming the hallways of his agency. Even several of the analysts and most of the support crew had you beat out in terms of appeal--literally bless this man for his obvious indifference to your appearance.

“I, uh--thanks for your confidence in me,” you said, fighting down a laugh. “But I assure you, it definitely wasn’t meant for me. I just have to figure out who left it and who they meant it for.”

Shouto shifted impatiently, like he was waiting for something.

“You’re so certain,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“Of course I am,” you waved at him vaguely. It was actually super cute that he thought you could net yourself a dude who was willing to shell out Grégoire Chardin dollars, but you were just wasting time now, lingering over the least important part of this entire affair. “Listen, Shouto. I know sometimes men talk in the locker rooms. If you--if you hear anything, will you let me know? I just want to return it, it looks way too good sitting here.”

It was actually taking all your willpower not to open it and avail yourself of Japan’s finest chocolate, considering you would never have another opportunity like this again. Maybe you should just pretend it was for you....Really, no one could fault you for opening something left in your own office. But...no. No, you knew better.

Shouto appeared indifferent to your internal struggle. He watched you for a long moment, his features impassive. “Under one condition,” he finally allowed.

You cocked an ear to show you were listening, rifling around with the paperwork on your desk to distract yourself from the chocolate. You were strong, a good person. You had willpower like steel. You did not need to eat it, no no no.

“If no one comes looking for it by the end of the day, you will open it,” he said, moving closer.

You glanced up at him, shocked. “Shouto, this is someone else’s gift,” you hissed. “I can’t just open it.”

He placed a large palm down on your desk, leaning over you slightly. “That is my bargain.”

“You want me to steal somebody’s shit in your own agency,” you accused him. You tried not to pay attention to how close he had gotten, how straight his nose was up close, the way his eyes seemed brighter and his mouth pulled into a pout almost too pretty for a man.

The rest of his expression slipped into something like annoyance, matching his pout. “If no one comes for it, then it must be evident that it was meant for you.”

You suppressed a derisive laugh. Now was not the time to get shirty with your own boss, especially when his delusions were kind of sweet. It was honestly just short of a miracle that a man who looked like Shouto did could possibly think anyone on earth would have a thing for you, regardless of his own tastes.

“What if they’re just too shy to ask for it back?” you asked, watching those heterochromatic eyes flick over you curiously.

“If it’s as expensive as you say, someone will come looking,” he said. Which was actually kind of annoyingly reasonable.

A smirk flitted across his maddeningly perfect face when you failed to come up with another argument. He had a point, and he knew it.

You let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m certain someone will come looking for it. Please be subtle when you’re gathering info, okay? I'm sure this is embarrassing for whoever made this mistake.”

Shouto looked almost offended. “I am perfectly capable of being subtle,” he intoned in his deep voice.

This time, you did laugh. He was quiet, maybe, very perceptive, and unobtrusive when he wanted to be, but no one had ever accused the man of possessing tact. “Yeah, okay. Just, try to channel more subtlety than you think you need, okay? No one else but the sender needs to know about the mix up.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shouto was leaning over you more fully, eyes glittering strangely as his clean, fresh scent met your nose. You froze in your chair, brain going horrifyingly vacant as he leaned impossibly nearer. What the fuck was he doing?

“It will be like I’m not even asking,” Shouto promised, his voice light. “Not asking anyone at all.”

You tried to scrape your thoughts back into something resembling order, but the effort was all but futile. You needed to get him out of your space stat before you embarrassed yourself.

”Okay, then it’s a deal,” you said quickly. “Now go...flambé a villain or something.”

Shouto lingered for a long moment, his mouth curling a little at the corner, like he was being let in on a secret you couldn’t hear. His eyes brushed over you, almost like a physical touch. And then he was gone, pulling open the door to your office, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“You will see,” he said by way of farewell. “You will find out how subtle I can be.”

You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t explain himself. He just smirked, and closed the door behind himself.

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