#he said that his character is whatever you want him to be

[rodolfoparras]

Say something stupid (like I love you)

Pairing: Male character x Top Male reader

Cw: 18+, non human yandere character, human yandere reader, stalking, obsessing, possessiveness, masturbation, bondage, blood play, spit play, non consensual voyeurism, dubious consent, dom male reader, sub male character

Synopis: After spending so many years looking for the right one for him, he finally finds you or you find him…

When he first met you he hadn’t intended to fall in love, matter of fact he’d long given up on the concept solely because his partners rarely viewed love and relationships in the same way that he did.

Sure they’ve gotten jealous over him but never did they get possessive like he did.

Sure they’ve loved him but never did they get obsessed like he did.

Sure he’d been in committed relationships but never did they allow him to claim them properly.

And because of that he always broke up with them.

It’s love, he tried to explain, the all consuming type that has you tapping into your deepest darkest desires.

His previous lovers didn’t understand it, no one seemed to do, until he met you.

He had observed you through the shadows at first, not wanting to scare you away before he’d even gotten the chance to say hello.

He’d watch you practice in the garden. You were rather skilled with the sword but there were still weak spots in your swordsmanship, windows of opportunity where someone could come and harm you.

From then on he decided that he’d do everything in his power to prevent you from getting hurt, even if that meant secretly watching you from bushes and trees while you practiced with your sword.

He’d sometimes watch you take short walks to town. You didn’t seem to care whether it was day or night, seemingly determined as ever to finish whatever errand you had in mind. But he cared because sure while you knew how to wield a sword, the world you lived in was very unpredictable. You shouldn’t roam around alone so of course he followed wherever you decided to go.

He’d even watch you sleep until dusk turned into dawn through the window you always forget to close. Sometimes you couldn’t fall asleep for whatever reason, so you’d lay in bed, body bare and on full display lazily stroking your dick, grunts and groans tumbling past your lips, as you steadily worked yourself towards your release.

He tried not to look, it would be rather improper of him. He’d instead trail his gaze around your surroundings to make sure no one was watching, no one else but him.

You never noticed him or maybe you did because sometimes you’d throw a look over your shoulder while practicing with your sword as if you could feel someone watching you.

And sometimes you’d take one too many unnecessary trips to town, each time taking a new and unfamiliar path as if wanting to keep him on his toes somehow.

And sometimes while pleasuring yourself, you’d gaze into the open window, right in the spot where he usually hides himself, eyes searching the dark as if you were looking for something or rather someone, as if you were looking for him.

However the most notable thing was that you never seemed to fear him, at least not from what he could see.

There were no goosebumps rising upon your skin whenever you thought someone was watching you at practice, no pulse wildly beating under your skin when he was following you closely, no shaking limbs except for when you inched closer to your release.

He was intrigued.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and soon enough he decided to make himself known.

When he’d stepped out of the shadows and into the light he’d been intrigued with how much more beautiful you were up close but he’d been more intrigued with how familiar you seemed to be with him.

You didn’t lunge him down to the ground, didn’t bring your sword to his throat, didn’t even try to walk away when he came up to you.

Instead you said his name with a soft smile on your face, pronouncing the string of letters as if you were rather familiar with them, as if you were familiar with him. How you’d found that out, he had no idea.

He was used to an air of caution surrounding his conquests, the other party needing some time before they warmed up to him, maybe two or three dates before they allowed him to steal a kiss but there was no need for that with you.

There was no need for it when you were the one to pull him in for a kiss, a yelp of surprise turning into whimpers and whines, steadily licking into his mouth as if trying to erase any trace of previous conquests, sucking on his tongue and biting on his lips as if trying to devour him, before breaking apart, a string of blood and spit connecting you to him

At that point his conquests usually try to run away. They see the wild look in his eyes, the blood smeared around his mouth and run for the hills.

Instead it seems like you’re trying to prevent him from running away, one hand keeping a vice like grip on his throat, thumb pressing down on his Adam apples til his ears ring and world blurs while the other hand blindly fumbles for the cleft of his ass, fingers brushing over his clothed entrance.

He’d never managed to go as far as to get his conquests into bed yet here you were tying his limbs to the bed posters, using a bit of pre to stretch the tight ring of muscles before sinking into his warm wet heat like you owed it, uncaring of the way he winces and hisses as you set a steady pace with your hips, solely focusing on your pleasure.

You keep your gaze glued to his, like he’d done with you for so many weeks, eyes wide and frantic as if someone would steal him away from you, taking in the tears trickling down his cheeks, the way spit is dribbling down his chin, the way his cock is uselessly slaps against his abdomen while you frantically thrust into him.

And when he thought it was time to leave, feeling absolutely spent and wrung dry, nothing but pathetic spurts of cum spilling from his cock,you had stopped him before he could even get up.

This time you lunged at him, still naked as ever, your hard cock pressing against his thigh while pushing the sharp blade of a knife up against his jugglar.

Right then and there he knew that he loved you

and he knew that you loved him too.

#top male reader #dom male reader #yandere reader #I’m so nervous ABOT this bc never this type of. theme so I hope y’all like it djdjd #yandere male reader #sub yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x male reader #yandere smut #monster oc #monster x reader #monster x male reader #monster smut #x male reader #male reader #John price x reader #John price x male reader #gaz x reader #gaz x male reader #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #soap x reader #soap x male reader

[bardic-inspo]

Dhampir Dreams

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Generic/Unnamed)

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Key Tags: breeding kink, pregnancy kink, body worship, light dom/sub, light bondage, light praise kink, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dacryphilia, cunnilingus, PIV, Astarion’s past trauma, smut with so many feelings but nearly no plot, character introspection

Summary:

Tav saw beauty in Astarion he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like. Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her. Or: an angsty-turned-horny character study about the pale elf and his thoughts on creating new (un)life.

A/N: This is my first stab at writing a more generic Tav. Tav in this piece is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. Most other identifying features are left out.

Click here to read on AO3 instead

Astarion’s never thought much about making another vampire.

In the rare moments the notion occurred to him, he shoved it to the far back shelf of his mind so as not to waste himself on an exercise in futility. What did it matter, after all, while Cazador still lorded over him?

More than anything, Astarion yearned to see Cazador’s blood spill. In his mind’s eye, he’d watch it pool across the floor, not unlike the way he'd seen so much clothing puddled at so many heels. The lake he’d make of his master would be wide enough to swallow the garments of all who’d stripped bare before Astarion. Every sweat-soaked night he found himself bound to another moldering mattress beneath someone else’s weight, rocking through the motions that left his stomach sour, he’d fill his mind with such sweet dreams as Cazador’s death.

Whether Cazador would allow Astarion to drink his blood before being relieved of it varied with the fantasy. The dream changed as often as the hands on Astarion’s hips. It mattered little to him whether Cazador’s end came with true vampirism or not. As long as he ended. 

As long as the vile river of shit that comprised Astarion’s life ended, one way or another. For better. Or for good.

Of course, he flirted with the fantasy of his own spawn, sent out like skittering spiders to dispense his will. Foul little monsters they would be. Fine tools to have in his arsenal; Astarion would only want such wretches of his own the way one might want a hammer to pound a nail. And what he wanted didn’t hold any weight while bound in Cazador’s chains.

So the idea recoiled into the dusty recesses of his mind, collecting cobwebs kitty-corner to such out of reach trophies as freedom from his servitude to Cazador and the sun itself. Both still gleamed, despite the tarnish of time and hope rusted over. Despite Astarion’s prayers, no heroes came to save him. No gods or slayers or saviors spared him from his servitude. 

Until the illithids did.

Despite everything -- the centuries of torment, the hollow where his heart should be, its silence in his ribcage, the scars on his back, the thousands of other lashes that Cazador let fade from his porcelain skin -- Astarion did the one thing Cazador could never.

He stood in the sun. And on the sands of that same beach, another miracle washed ashore. A contradiction. His counterweight to everything else he’d ever known.

Tav.

Astarion’s hands roam the supple shape of her nestled against his bare chest. Her breath crests and falls soft and rhythmic, like the gentle slap of waves against the cliffs where they first found each other. His darling is always so serene in her sleep. Astarion dips his head down, nosing her splayed hair on the pillow, drinking in the lovely scent of lavender that always lingers with his lover.

Often, he wakes before her, as he does now in the dim blue light of dusk. Not yet dark enough for him to step outside, but for the moment, there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be. Not even in the raw, rippling light of day.

The smell of her has his eyelids heavy again, the steady patter of her heartbeat hypnotic in his head. His hands curve over the flare of her hips before slipping beneath the hem of her tunic. He stifles the satisfied hum that bubbles in the back of his throat as his palm smooths down the lithe stretch of her stomach. He resettles with his nose in the crook of her neck, eyelashes grazing the twin puncture scars that mark her as his.

He’d thought, once, that he’d ascend and have her at his side for an eternity. He was scared. Frantic. Grasping. He thought he had to grasp at something, fashion some sort of tether, to have her. Thought he had to have power, and enough of it, to keep her. Now he holds her every morning in the bed they share, until day becomes night again. It’s as effortless as blinking.

Now, the thought of turning Tav into a vampire turns his stomach.

His lips brush, tender, to the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He loves those marks he gave her. He loves the way her fingertips tap against them when she’s lost in thought. He loves the way she arches into his arms as he feeds, the way her body gives and gives to him alone. That sleepy, slap-happy smile she has when he’s lapped his last for the evening. The way her eyes roll back, and she gasps, breathless, as he kisses a trail from her neck to a nipple and sucks fervently.

He loves that he’s marked her, but that it didn’t change her. He can still curl into the heat of her skin at night. Still watch her preen in a mirror. Still stare at those gorgeous eyes and know the shade of them is hers. Her cheeks still turn the shade of sunrise when he leans in with a lustful whisper, or grazes her waist with a feather-light touch.

Absently, his fingers follow the path of an old scar on her stomach. At its end, he finds the start of softness. Astarion loves that, too. She didn’t used to be soft there, when they were just surviving. They’re not just surviving anymore.

Perhaps he’s changed her after all. It’s not so scary anymore to admit she’s turned him, too. Not to the light, or anything so nauseatingly righteous. But rather, so Astarion could see himself in it. Even if his days of standing in the sun are done.

I’ll be your mirror, she vowed, what feels like another lifetime ago. She smiled in that fond way of hers that, at the time, hurt to look at too long. He scoffed at her poetic ruminations on his hair curling near his ears. The creases when he laughs. 

Tav saw beauty in him he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like.

Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her.

He’s thought of Tav as a mother before. It flitted through his mind when Astarion watched her ease Arabella’s pounding heart with the gentleness of her own. That feeling lingered when Yenna joined their camp, and Astarion caught Tav teaching her cards. Combing the snarls from the girl’s hair. Coaching her in the basics of swordplay.

She’d be a wonderful mother. Astarion has no doubts in that regard. And he, well…

He doesn’t have an example to look back on, or one to look up to. But he has his compass. Tav’s heart beats, sure and steady, in his ear. That sound’s guided him through so much else. How could he lose his way for long, if there were two pitter-patters to listen to? 

His palm paints cool over that blooming softness in her stomach. An ache burns in his own. The sort of hunger her blood won’t sate. Would she taste even sweeter, he wonders, with her body rounded and swollen? 

Of course she would. So hard to improve something so perfect already. But she’d be radiant, if she were ripe with their child.

And after, when their babe is born, and her body is new all over again, he'd love every line, every fold, every mark that came from their coupling. He’d worship every part of her that was remade by the two of them to make the three of them. Marvel at the way the same body that first truly fed him would feed their child, too. 

He’d help her find her way back to pleasure in her own way, in her own time. Just as she did for him. His Tav gives, and gives, and he’d give her anything, everything, for the rest of his days, if a wretch like him would be so stupidly blessed to be the father of her child.

Astarion pulls a breath between his teeth, his nose flooding with her floral scent again. That would change, too. She’d carry new notes in her sweat, in her slick, in her blood, while carrying their babe. Astarion wants to taste them all, to learn what songs she can sing while he does.

Instinctually, he presses to the plump of her ass to soothe the building stiffness in his cock. He plants a muted hum in the fabric of the pillow. His groin throbs to the thump-thump of his compass, beating oblivious beneath her ribs.

He pictures pouring into her, night after night, his spend spilling in little translucent rivers down her slicked thighs, overflowing from her cunt. Too much for her to hold in, but she’d take him as long as it takes until life sparks inside of her. Tav’s determined in all her undertakings. Resilient. 

And in his dreams, she’s pliant. Pleading. 

“Star, please.”

She’s trembling in that slinky, translucent nightgown she wears to bed sometimes. The one that hardly hides her skin, but cloaks it in a delectable, silvery sheen. He likes it too much to ruin it. Or at least, he has every other night. 

Oh, he’d like to ruin it, now.

Tav’s pupils are blown black with want. Sweat shimmers on her skin, spurring his tongue to swipe his own lips. Her shoulder peeks bare from her nightgown, and Astarion can see her pebbled nipples, dark beneath the sheer silk that separates them. Hardened with hardly a touch. A feeling he’s intimately familiar with. His cock twitches as he strokes the back of his hand over the soft swell of her breast. 

“Aren’t you sore, sweet thing?” He tries for tender, but it comes out coarse. Rough like the way he wants to grip her hips.

“So be gentle,” she says with a sultry smile, lips peeled apart and glistening just enough that Astarion can’t peel his eyes away. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”

Astarion slinks forward, crowding her against the edge of the bed. Careful, like cradling glass, his palm reaches out to cup the side of her cheek. She sighs into the touch, the curve of her smile reaching the heel of his hand.

“Always,” he says reverently, before his voice sinks to a growl. “You’re always so, so eager…for me.”

Her lashes flutter low over hungry eyes. All it takes is one little wordless bob of her head for Astarion’s own hunger to have the best of him. With a lazy roll of his wrists, he shoves her back with kind but firm force. The mattress bends with her impact, her breathless laughter nearly lost beneath the whine of the wooden frame. Astarion crawls after her, hands fisting in her nightgown, and pulling her free of it.

And then, she’s bare beneath him. Writhing from his tongue and teeth. Gasping out the best words he’s ever heard. Astarion downs them like a man starved, kissing her with the kind of fervor he thought reserved for bloodlust. But her lips, the promises they pour, are sustenance all on their own.

“I’m yours,” she whispers, “all yours. Always. All of me.”

Astarion can’t stifle the whine that drags from some hollow in his chest he never knew about before.

The bed creaks as he hitches one of Tav’s limber legs up over his shoulder and nips a path of sharp kisses from her ankle to the crux of her thigh. He pauses, sweeping a feverish gaze over the spread of her: legs parted in his grip, that perfect slit, already wet with want, the rest of her sprawled naked across the bed, at his mercy, at his desire, at her own. 

He leans down, tongue dipping leisurely through her cunt. Always, she swore. So there’s no hurry in how he takes apart the woman he loves so dearly, in one of her favorite ways to be unmade. No matter how many times she claws the sheets and hisses, “Please, Star. F-fuck, I need you inside of me.”

It turns something in the depths of him to hear his own name said as a prayer. It makes him want with a force and harshness stronger than any thirst he’s felt for blood. He wants to turn her. Change her. Forever, for good. For the life they could make from their bodies, bound as close as souls could be. He wants to see her swell with the love they make, with all the love he’ll leave inside her.

She’s so close, her legs quaking violently when her hand tangles his hair and yanks his head upright. She’s beautiful, flushed ruby red, taking her air in shallow doses. Her eyes burn with equal measures adoration and reproach.

Astarion smirks, unrepentant, lips smeared with devotion. “My love, any work of art takes time. And that’s what we’re making, you know. When others look upon our progeny, they will weep in the sight of such beauty.”

“If all it takes is time, dearest,” she says, with a smile just as filthy, “then I don’t want to waste one second of it lying here empty.”

“Mmm,” Astarion sighs, nosing down against her throbbing clit, eyes flashing back to hers as he dares another lick. Her fist tightens in his hair. Astarion only chuckles. 

“You’re right, of course,” he croons. “That won’t do, at all. I do recall promising to-- how did you put it the other night? ‘Fuck you full and senseless’? I’m more partial to what you begged me for a tenday ago, when I had you face-down and waiting for me as soon as the sun was set. Remind me again, my love, what you said when you weren't gasping my name?"

Astarion presses the tip of his tongue to her clit again and tastes her rapid, ravenous pulse in the heat of it. Tav’s hips jerk in response, but he holds her fast.

“I-I said I want-- that I want--”

“You want me to ‘breed you like a damn animal’," he finishes for her. "Oh, don’t be shy now, my sweet. We’re far past that. And we want the same things, after all. But," he sighs, letting his lips drag through her flushed folds, "I've another promise to keep, first.”

Astarion flicks his wrist, muttering magic beneath his breath. Tav’s sharp little yelp of surprise shoots heat straight to his groin. His cock throbs as she settles again, arms bound above her head by his mage hand, tits bouncing from the slightest struggle against her restraints. She smirks up at him, eyes aflame with fresh desire. Escape is the farthest thing from what she wants.

“You lie back now, dear,” Astarion drawls. “You’ll take me soon enough. You’ll be so good for me, like you always are, and take everything I give you. And I’ll take very, very good care of the woman I intend to make a mother.”

Astarion watches her keenly, tracing his forefinger down through her slick. He unfurls it, circling her cunt daintily, and watching her writhe for even the faintest promise of friction. He’s not sure if it’s his mercy or his selfishness that readily discards the thought of keeping her here, just like this, for the rest of the day. She’s mesmerizing, with the way her back arches from the blankets, and how her body strains towards any touch he’ll spare her. 

All mine, he thinks, with a smile that makes him feel weightless. He grounds his hardened cock against the edge of the bed, groaning. All yours, darling. Just for you.

Pride rumbles low in his chest as he sets his mouth back to work again and knows she can’t cover her own. There’s no muffling his name pouring from her lips. No hiding how she cries for him. Her whole body winds taut, shuddering with every stroke of his tongue. 

Finally, finally, he lets his finger slip inside her. Astarion sighs into a satisfied purr, letting the tremble of it soak into her sex. Her cunt’s a vice around his knuckle. Every pump of his finger feeds the building burn inside him, fanning the ache to be sheathed in that tightness. He only aches more, feeling her squeeze around his finger, and knowing she longs for him just the same.

He slips in a second finger to join the first, feeling her spread and then clench anew. Astarion ruts aimlessly into the mattress, in time with the thrust of his wrist. The head of his cock weeps anticipation with the rogue tear trailing down the side of her cheek. It’s only pleasure that makes her cry.

There’s only love in her heavy-lidded gaze as she pants, “Please.”

Mercy, then, Astarion resolves. For both of them.

Her thighs quiver against his ears like leaves in a breeze. Astarion swirls his tongue against the bud of her clit and sucks tightly. Tav stiffens abruptly. His arms hook firm around her legs as a shattered sound breaks from her throat,and a hard tremor courses through her hips. 

He holds her through it, pinning her to the bed until just the faintest brush of his lips has her shuddering. The start of her plaintive whimper has him easing back. A murmured word sets her wrists free of her restraints. Her heart still hammers, sumptuous, in his head, as he peppers her legs in kisses soft as velvet.

“Beautiful,” he whispers with each one, slinking up her body while she comes back down. “So, so beautiful.”

He thinks of new life, as his knee bends between her thighs and drags her open all over again. He thinks of the graveyard, where he had her freely beneath the stars, in the dirt where he woke centuries ago. He thinks he’d be happy to die again, this way, as he slides forward and buries himself inside her waiting heat.

Astarion grates out a long, low moan as he basks in the wrap of her arms and her cunt. Dimly, he feels her fingertips threading gently through his curls. He thinks of sunlight on his skin again as he sinks in fully, bracing his arms on either side of her head, letting his forehead tilt against hers. He can feel her pulse thrumming through her body, through his cock, through his fogged-over thoughts. His hips roll to the sound, as if it beckoned him to motion. Tav’s head drops back into the pillows. She lets out a long, contented hum, while her body rocks in time with his.

“Is this what you needed, darling?” He huffs a laugh, catching her lips in chaste kiss. It’s enough for her to taste her own sweetness. And one squeeze from her cunt is enough to cut his breath away all over again. 

“I think you needed me, too,” she purrs.

“Y-yes,” he stammers through bared teeth, his throat tied taut as she wrings him for all he’s worth. “Yes.”

She knows exactly what he needs, what he yearns for. He needs her, needs this, needs to see his seed seeping from her fucked-out hole, pink and puffy and leaking. He’ll know the rest of it was spent so deep inside her, her fertile womb is flooded. That’s his, too, with the rest of her. 

Hips high for me, beautiful, he’ll say, when his last thrust is done. And he’ll hold her legs up against his shoulders, kiss her heels, and slip the pillow beneath her pelvis. Just to be sure it takes. 

It’ll be another couple months before they’ll start to see the fruit of their efforts. Until Tav starts to bloom with it. And then, he’ll be hard pressed not to have his hands on her every hour. Cupping the fresh heft of her breasts as they grow with the passing days, heavy from him, for the babe growing in her belly. He’ll soothe her weepy eyes and tits alike, with a skilled tongue and sweet whisper. Rub her shoulders to ease the new weight her bones carry. Draw his nose down her neck and smell not just her, but himself, and the consequences of what they did, right here in this bed.

Feel her change beneath his hands and feel so fucking proud to be the reason.

Pleasure winds, binding, around his cock, and he feels that hunger snap its jaws around him all over again. His hips snap with it, jerking frantically. I need you, all of you, he thinks, and if he weren’t already fucking her, he’d be on his knees, begging for all he’s worth. Her cunt quivers, and he’s lost to the grip of her. Astarion shoves his own knuckles in his mouth to stifle a strangled cry. 

“Star?”

Astarion rips awake in a sweat. He sees familiar wooden beams above his head, above his bed. Sunlight streaks the floorboards, leaking from behind the curtains. Turning his cheek, he finds his lover peering at him from over her shoulder, concern wrinkling her face. Tav still lays on her side, and Astarion still presses against her back. But his hand clamps tight to her thigh, bare where he hiked up her tunic. And his cock twitches fitfully against her ass, unspent and painfully hard. 

Just a dream, then. For now, at least. 

He lets out a long, weary sigh, slumping back into the sheets. Tav tilts her head, the worry in her gaze gradually dissolving into a mischievous gleam.

“I thought you might--” she starts, snickering, “but you were having sweet dreams, weren’t you?”

“The best I’ve ever had,” Astarion mutters mournfully as he buries his face in his pillow. “You were there, of course.” 

Astarion rarely sleeps anymore. It’s not normal, not natural for an elf. But it was a trick he taught to dodge Cazador’s torment at least for a few hours a day. Reverie used to mean putting the horrors on repeat. He’d slowly eased from the habit, now that he has new memories worth seeing a second, third, or hundredth time. 

Still, occasionally, he drifts to sleep without meaning to. Sometimes, he wanders off into novel nightmares. Or, if he’s lucky, he dreams of making love to his wife and making her pregnant. Of making their own little dhampir.

His hips shift, and he hisses. Pre-cum seeps from the head of his cock, slickening the shaft. It’s not enough. Not after such a succulent fantasy. But one touch from his darling might have him sated, if not entirely satisfied. Pleasure stabs, sharp, through his groin as she shifts and brushes him with her motion. He grimaces. 

Just one touch alone could do it.

“I’m here now,” she smirks, twisting to face him. Her hand slips down between them. Mercy, he thinks, as her fingers wrap his length. He thrusts into her palm with a pleading whimper. “Tell me all about these dreams of yours.”

A/N: If you're yelling "Let him breed!!" at the screen just know I'm right there with you holding a megaphone about it 💜

If there's interest (from others & myself) perhaps there might be a part two where Tav takes matters into her own hands. Makes him say exactly what he wants, if he wants to have it so bad 👀

If you'd like me to add you to a tag list for future one-shots, or all of my future BG3 fic (including multi-chapters), leave me a comment and let me know which you'd like!

& HUGE thank you to some lovely Discord and Tumblr friends/moots who cheered me on as I worked on this one! 💜

Tag List: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

Banner credit to @cafekitsune

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #tavstarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion breeding #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x f!tav #f!tav x astarion #my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate

[satorusugurugurl]

Idk how you would turn this smutty. But I guess it doesn’t have to be. But how would the jjk boys deal w their girl being depressed or just not really liking herself

JJK Men: When You’re Feeling Depressed/Anxious/Down

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU),

Word Count: 4,090

Warnings: Mentions of low self-worth, depression, self-negativity, anxiety, fluff!

A/N: A fix for those of us who have those bad days and need a little pick me up.

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo noticed something was wrong from the exasperated sigh from the bedroom. Popping his head in, he watched as you threw a top down on the ground, joining the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your face was comforting between frustration and anger before you laid down on the bed, face down; your scream muffled into the mattress.

Seeing you like this, distraught and in distress, had Satoru padding across the floor, plopping down on the bed next to you. His large, warm hand gently rubbed up and down your back in soothing strokes. Only stopping when you slowly pulled back to look up at him.

“What's bothering you, sweet pea?”

“I just,” you sighed heavily, “nothing looks good on me. I feel dumpy, and I hate how I look.”

The harshness of your words had Satoru moving as if you had slapped him. “I'm sorry?” His hands cupped your face, squeezing it. “It just sounded like someone was insulting my girlfriend.” you tried pulling away from him, groaning as your hands pushed at him.

“Toru, stop!”

“No, you stop.” His tone left no room for arguments. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen: your face, personality, even this perfect body. Everything about you is perfect.” he was pleased when you didn't argue with him, “You don't like your clothes? You don't like how the clothes look? Come on.” he yanked you up, tossing you one of his shirts.

“Huh? What?”

“I said, come on.”

While wallowing in yourself, pity sounded like a beautiful idea. You knew your boyfriend. He wouldn't stop at nothing until you listened. So you reluctantly got up, dressed in one of his expensive shirts, before he dragged you out of the apartment.

Knowing Satoru, he would take you to some sweets shop and get you whatever you wanted. That was something you expected when it came to him. What you hadn't been expecting was for him to pull you into a boutique, the boutique you'd always fantasized about shopping at.

“W-Why are we here?” you asked, eyes wide as Satoru sat in a plush chair.

“You don't like any of your clothes, so I’m going to buy you a whole new wardrobe.” he leaned back, giving you a dazzling smile. “You shop to your heart's content, sweetheart.”

Your eyes moved around the shop, taking in the clothes you'd dreamt of wearing. “I-I can't, Toru, it's too expensive.” Satoru sighed dramatically, leaning his head back.

“I’m the head of the Gojo clan, a single child, and the strongest sorcerer of the modern age. Money is not a problem. I could buy out the entire store, and that's pocket change.” You twiddle your fingers, still feeling hesitant. “Sweetie,” you lifted your eyes, “have fun, you’ll feel so much better.”

Part of you didn't want to do this, to spend his money. It felt like he was a Sugar-Daddy when he presented you with extravagant gifts, but at the same time, he liked spoiling you. With a pout, you began thumbing through racks and pulling out tops and pants you liked before handing them to an awaiting clerk.

You glanced and grazed, pulling stuff off racks that looked good. Before you knew it, you stood in the dressing room surrounded by what seemed like dozens of articles of clothing. Would any of these even look good? Or would you still feel dumpy? The only way you would know was if you tried them on, which you had been dreading.

You pulled on a pair of jeans, a blouse, and some shoes before walking out. Satoru perked up, jaw-dropping as you stood in front of the mirrors. You looked—amazing. Your face mirrored his. You looked so pretty. The clothes fit you perfectly and complement the curves of your body along with your skin tone. For the first time all day, you felt good about yourself.

“Wow, just wow.” Satoru was a beaming ball of sunshine. “You looked beautiful earlier, but the confidence radiating off you is blinding! Strongest sorcerer in the world and luckiest boyfriend in the world!” You watched him pump his fist in the mirror.

“I feel perfect about this one.” you did a little twirl, looking at your backside.

“Me too! Go on, try on the next outfit! I wanna see everything.”

You felt as though you were in a movie. Going through a montage of outfits, all of which Satoru excited. He proudly announced to one of the attendants that you were his stunning girlfriend and looked terrific in everything. Ultimately, Satoru bought you ten new outfits, six dresses, ten pairs of shoes, and some jewelry.

You walked out in one of your new sun dresses, grabbing onto your white-haired boyfriend's arm. With a glance down at you, Satoru signed contentedly, squeezing your hand. You had a smile that could light up a million stages. His hand gently squeezed yours; your head tilted to stare at him.

“Feel better?” Satoru asked, giving you a wide smile.

“A million times better. Thank you, you didn't have to do that—” Having him spend that money on you left a bad taste in your mouth. Satoru could see how you avoided his gaze, how your hand tightened.

“I know.” The gentleness of his tone had your nerves relaxing. “But you were down, and I wanted to make you feel better. And from that adorable smile. I'd say I did a pretty damn good job.”

“You're so full of yourself.” Satoru swung your conjoined hands back and forth. “But that doesn't mean that you're wrong. You did an excellent job, Satoru; thank you again.”

“Anthrung to brighten your day, sweetheart. Now, let's grab some lunch! I wanna be the guy to take the hottest woman in the world to lunch!”

Geto Suguru:

Suguru could see it in your grin at work. It was a soft smile, one that screamed to others that you were okay. Everything was perfect in your life. But he could see the way that smile fell when everyone looked away. You weren't your perky, bubbly self, and that worried him.

Suguru waited until after the last of the students to leave before he walked up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. For a brief moment, he feared that you might pull away, that you needed space. He held a bated breath until you relaxed against his chest, allowing yourself to be engulfed by his larger frame.

He stayed like that, holding you tight for a long moment and not moving until you shifted from one leg to another. It was a signal that told him you wanted to move without outwardly saying it. So he released you, arms falling to his sides, hands sliding into his pockets as you stepped to collect your bag off the desk.

“Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding your head instead of answering him. You knew if you were to open your mouth to confess that you weren't as okay as you claimed, you would end up crying. You knew Suguru could see you weren't OK, but he wasn't the type to pry. So he just wrapped his arm around you and ushered you out of the classroom to head back home.

When you arrived, you took off your shoes and jacket and began heading to the kitchen to prepare something for dinner. Suguru was faster than you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the living room, where he forced you to sit on the couch. He was lightning fast, sitting behind you, his hands gently rubbing at your tense shoulders, making you melt.

His fingers rubbed and kneaded the stiff muscles in your shoulders and upper back. His touch back in the classroom had been a comfort, but having him rub out the tension had you moaning as you leaned forward. Your soft mewls had him grinning, his fingers and hands continuing to move over your back.

“So,” he began, “will you tell me what's wrong? Or would you prefer to savor the moment?”

With a soft sigh, your body arched, leaning into his touch. “I just haven't been feeling like myself. I wake up a ball of stress, and I haven't been sleeping well.” A lump began to form in your throat as you struggled to find the words. “Works been a lot; I've been working twelve-hour days, that's not even including missions.” the tears you had been holding back this entire time finally escaped. “And I feel like I could do more for everyone and you. I don’t feel like I’m putting enough effort into everything.” The kneading of Suguru’s hands ceased; they remained still, gently squeezing your shoulders.

He took a moment to process your words, to filter through the pain and the stress that seeped through them. It was painfully clear to him that you were far more stressed than he had imagined. Situations like this called for more than just a back massage.

”I’m sorry that you have so much on your plate right now. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” The couch shifted as your boyfriend stood up, scooping you into his arms and carrying you toward the bathroom. “I think you might need to take a day off for yourself and stop worrying so much about helping everyone else out.”

Suguru sat you on the bathroom counter before unzipping his uniform jacket. “But I wan—“ He placed his forefinger gently over your lips, silencing the protests and excuses he knew you were going to make.

”I know you want to help. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help out your co-workers and partner when a lot is going on. But you must also remember to care for the most important person.”

”Whose that?”

”You.” His words left your cheeks burning as you watched him draw a bath. “You want to help, but you can’t do that when you’re grinding yourself to the bone. For tonight, don’t worry about work, me, or what we're going to have for dinner. I want you to focus on you.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Suguru was right, and you had been working yourself to the brink of death. A hiccup was the only sound Suguru needed to hear to know that his words had struck home. Turning his head, bangs flowing, he shut his eyes as he gave you the warmest smile. You sat on the counter, wiping at your tired eyes, sniffling like a child as your boyfriends strode forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

”Let’s take the night to focus on you.”

Suguru ordered dinner, and as you both waited for it to be delivered, you soaked in the bath together. The aroma of your favorite bubble bath mix and candles calmed you down. Your eyes were heavy as you pressed yourself back against Suguru’s bare chest, humming contently as he held you close. For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself slip into a deep slumber in the flickering glow of the candlelight. Your deep breathing and relaxed features left Suguru’s heart feeling light. Taking care of you was one of the greatest pleasures of the world.

Nanami Kento:

Nanami straightened his tie as he looked over himself in the mirror. With a heavy sigh, he stepped out of the bathroom and into your room, where you were nowhere to be found. The bed was unmade, so that you couldn't have gone far.

After grabbing his keys and wallet, Nanami went to the kitchen, where you were. Cocking an eyebrow, he began searching the apartment for you. The living room was empty, as well as the other bathroom. He was getting ready to pull out his phone to call you when a soft sniffle caught his attention.

The sound resonated from the office, where, upon looking inside, he found you sitting on the floor. You were surrounded by a pile of laundry in the basket, a list of groceries you needed to pick up, and you were reading over a report. He was watched for a long moment; tears ran down your cheeks as you sniffled, your eyes darting around items.

It was painfully evident you were in the midst of a depressive episode. When you suffered through these episodes, simple tasks you usually completed with ease were overwhelming to the point you held off on them until you could no longer ignore them. Seeing you so overwhelmed and drowning in your emotions had Nanami’s mind reeling on ways that he could help.

For now, the two of you need to get to work. With a gentle tap of his knuckles against the door, Nanami watched you regain your composure. You were taking several deep breaths, wiping at your eyes before you stood up, grabbing a boom to make it look as if you hadn't just been having an episode.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Your fiance asked, watching as you hurriedly passed him with your head down. “If we leave now, we’ll have time to stop for coffee.”

“Yeah, I’m ready!” Nanami listened to your voice fade before he stepped inside, grabbing the grocery list off the floor and sliding it into his pocket.

“Alright, let’s head out.”

The day went by too fast for you as you sat in the morgue looking over the folders you still needed to file. All the deaths had been bringing up memories of Haibara and the young lives that had been lost in your line of work. You needed a break to escape the death that constantly seemed to follow you in your work.

On top of all the work that had you drowning in sorrow, you had been neglecting the housework. You had fully intended on doing it before Nanami got home from his latest mission, but to your horror, he got home earlier than you thought. Meaning he saw how neglectful you had been, and that made you feel even worse about yourself.

Before those self-destructive thoughts could overtake you, the door to the morgue opened. What you had assumed was Shoko turned out to be your fiancè. What time was it?! Was he already picking you up? You snatched the clock off your desk and felt your stomach drop into your ass. It was six thirty. Six-fucking-thirty, you still had to go to the store, do laundry, and make dinner on top of everything else.

“I was beginning to wonder if you planned on sleeping here tonight.”

“N-No, sorry, I just—” Nanami tilted his head, “I lost track of time.”

“Right, well come on, let's go.”

On the walk back to the apartment, your mind was jumping back between the unfinished files at work and everything that needed to be done at home. All of it was important, you knew that. All you wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and sleep. This suffocating sadness had its grip around your neck, choking the life out of you and rendering you exhausted beyond all means.

There would be time to cry yourself to sleep once your chores were taken care of. Thinking about the pile of laundry awaiting you had your skin crawling as you entered the apartment. The same apartment that had been messy this morning was now tidy and smelt like the cleaning products you used. Your head darted to the number on the door. Did you walk into the wrong apartment?

The pictures on the walls of you and Nanami confirmed that you were, in fact, inside the correct apartment. Which only confused you more as you stepped further inside, taking off your shoes. You speed walked to the office to finish the laundry. But the basket was gone? Okay, so groceries.

You searched for the list you had made, looking under some books, the desk, and your recliner before Nanami cleared his throat from behind you. “If you’re looking for the list, I took it.” Wooden floorboards creaked under his weight before he held a bouquet of your favorite flowers towards you.

“W-What’a this for?” you questioned, your fingers grazing over his as you took the flowers from him.

“I noticed you were looking down and stressed this morning, so I figured you needed a little pick-me-up.”

The sweet floral smell flooded your senses as you inhaled deeply. “Oh Kento, these are beautiful, thank you.” His large hand cupped your cheek, caressing your skin.

“I also cleaned, finished the laundry, and picked up the groceries. So all you need to do tonight is relax.”

“K-Ken—” Words couldn't describe the relief that washed over you, “you didn't have to do that.”

“I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to.” You were gently pulled in, his lips pressing against your forehead. “You’re my partner, my future wife. There aren't set duties that you solely need to do. We're a team; I can easily help.” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks just as you threw yourself into his arms, bawling into his chest.

Your future husband smiled sadly, wrapping his big, strong arms around you. His hands soothingly rubbed up and down your back in gentle strokes, making you cry even harder. Kento was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Compassionate, loving, and gentle, what more could you ask for a partner?

You cried for what seemed like hours in Kento’s arms. Never once did he get annoyed or urge you to hurry up. Once you felt incapable of crying anymore, you pulled back, hiccuping.

“Feel better?” Kento asked, gently cupping your face in both hands. A nod was all he received back as a response. “Good. Now let's eat dinner, bathe, and relax.” That is precisely what you did, snuggled up next to him, dozing off as he stroked your head. His eyes raked over the page of his newest book. All the worries faded as you drifted to sleep, engulfed in the warmth of his body.

Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU)

“I-Is it gonna hurt?” The young eighteen-year-old girl asked as Sukuna held her lip with sterile forceps.

“If I said yes, would it make you feel better?” Sukuna snickered, holding up a large needle.

“N-No?”

“Then let me do my job.”

With a stab, yelp, and one ring later, Sukuna watched the girl wiping tears away as she checked out. He was snickering as he sterilized his workstation. There is a fifty-fifty chance she'll keep it or not. But he got to get one hundred percent of the tip regardless. So he couldn't complain.

“Sukuna,” Geto called from outside his room, holding the shop's phone. “It’s for you.”

With a glance at the clock, Sukuna could make a couple of guesses as to who would be calling him at work at two-thirty on a Thursday afternoon. Either one of his little brothers got into a fight, and the school was calling, or it was one of his clients calling to reschedule with him. Hoping for the second possibility, he huffed an annoyed sigh, taking the phone from his co-worker.

”This is Sukuna.” The line was silent, almost too quiet. “Hello?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the client's chair. “Look, I got important stuff to do, so if no one is bleeding or needs my attention, I’m hanging up.”

A whimper stopped him from pressing the red phone icon on the phone. He knew that voice all too well. It belonged to you, his girlfriend of two months. Why the fuck were you crying? Panic settled in his chest as he stood up, his chair rolling away as he held the phone flush against his ear with his shoulder.

”Babe?” He asked, getting another whimper in response. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Geto and the others had all gathered around, exchanging worried glances with each other as Sukuna rushed to grab his jacket and helmet from his locker. “Hey, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”

”I-I’m sorry —“ Soft sobs sounded from the line, “I had a terrible anxiety attack, and work sent me home, and I just feel so out of it. I know you’re at work, but I need you.”

“Do ya’ really think I give a fuck about work when you feel like this?” His voice came out a bit harsher than he wanted. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—-“

Fuck, he knew better than to snap when you were in the midst of an attack like this. “No, you’re okay. I need you to tell me where I need to go.” Sukuna held his breath, waiting for you to respond.

”M-My apartment.”

”Unlock the door; I’ll be there in ten.” A soft sob between understanding and goodbye sounded from the other line just as he hung up. “Geto—“

His co-worker was typing on his phone. “I’m texting Satoru now; he’ll pick up Yuuji and Choso. I’ll call and rebook your other appointments. Get out of here.” Sukuna gave him a thumbs up and a sharp ‘thanks’ before he bolted out of the shop.

Just like he had promised you, he made it to your apartment in less than ten minutes, bolting up the stairs and turning a sharp corner before throwing open your door. He locked the door, threw off his shoes, and hurried to the one place he knew you’d be at. Sure enough, he found you under the sheets in bed, curled in a fetal position.

Your body shook with sobs, ones that made Sukuna feel like someone was twisting a knife into his stomach. He truly hated your anxiety attacks just as much as you did. Not because he had to help you through the tremors and tears. But because he hated seeing how much they wrecked you.

You were amid a choked sob when the bed sheets lifted, and your boyfriend's musky amber scent flooded your senses. His smell alone had your grip on the sheets loosening as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His body was so far, his hands gentle as you buried your face into his side, crying roughly, your tears soaking his shirt.

”Shh, it’s alright, brat, let it out. I got you; you’re going to be just fine.”

The sadness that clutched you tightly began to fade as he continued whispering into your ear. His soft words and gentle praises had you curling closer into him. Your boyfriend was the best at bringing you back into reality. He was your life preserver, holding you afloat in the sea of melancholy that would have drowned you by now.

This was the reason he was the one person you called in situations like this. Where the sadness was too much for you to carry or when your anxiety felt like it had possessed you, Sukuna was there to ground you and bring you back to your senses. Days like these were when you thanked whoever spun the bottle the night you played Seven Minutes in Heaven.

”You good?” Sukuna asked as he felt your trembles die out.

”Yeah, I’m just sorry I called you at work. For something so miniscule over an anxiety attack.”

Sukuna hummed and flicked your forehead with a painful—thump before he pulled your body closer to his own. “I gave you the phone number for the shop for a reason, brat.” His finger ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. “I care about you; I want you to call me when you're feeling down or if you need me.” There was a particular hint of shyness to his tone before he cleared his throat. “So what happened?”

“Do I have to talk about it?” You questioned with a sigh. “I just want to lay here and relax with you.”

“Babe,” pulled you tighter against him. “We can do whatever you want. No questions asked.”

You got what you wanted, and that was him by your side, grounding you. He made instances like this easier to deal with. Just his presence alone was enough to make you feel like everything was going to be okay. All because Sukuna was by your side.

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[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 2)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and the triplets are 22 here), characters walking in on each other showering, nsfw content (no actual sex), a few uses of y/n (sometimes it's inevitable, y'all :P)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Y'all are about to kill me for this cliffhanger 🤗

“You’re here!” Chris smiled, throwing open the door. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It was yesterday, Chris,” You giggled. “Now let us in so we don’t drop your dinner.”

“Us?” the youngest triplet asked you, cocking his head to the side. 

Chris opened the front door wider to reveal Matt standing behind you, clearly annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t been let into his own home yet. You were holding a box of breadsticks and drinks from your favorite local pizza place while Matt carried the four boxes of pizza. Despite your protests that you could carry the pizza, the boy had refused, saying that he could do it because it was him and his brothers that could easily slam a whole pizza each by themselves. Secretly, you just thought it was cute that Matt wanted to help you, despite his “tough guy” façade. 

“You guys came together?” a look of what could have been confusion, but also something else flashed across Chris’ face. 

“You’re wack if you think I’m leaving her downtown alone at night. She’s too trusting; it’s like a puppy.” Matt murmured, shoving past you and Chris and into the house. 

“Uh oh, Mattitude’s out now.” whatever expression had been on your best friend’s face was gone now, leaving you with the happy, sunny Chris you had always known.

“Out now? It’s always out.” You laughed, making your way into the kitchen you were all too familiar with.

“I heard that.” 

You giggled to yourself, sitting the boxes down on the island. Breathing in the familiar scent of the boys’ home, any trace of the unease you had felt at Matt’s earlier demeanor disappeared. The triplets had been your best friends since high school, and not much had changed now that you were all adults, other than the fact that your hangouts were less frequent. Just like old times, you all piled onto the couch with your plates of pizza and drinks, scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch. 

You had sandwiched yourself between Nick and Chris, while Matt sat at the other end of the couch, silently eating his pizza and scrolling through his phone. You didn’t take the silence personally, though. After the conversation at the shop about the man who was making his job more difficult, you couldn’t blame the brunette for wanting a break. Though you weren’t as close with Matt as with the other two brothers, you still cared deeply for him. If that meant him being a little more quiet in order to rest, you didn’t mind it. 

You turned towards Nick, snatching the leftover crust off his plate. “The stickers are selling well.” You stated, taking a sip of your Fanta. 

Being close friends with a graphic designer as a business owner definitely had its perks; for example, the small, cartoon-style flower stickers that read “One Trick Peony” had sold out within three hours of your shop being open for the past week since you’d started stocking them. Despite his busy job as one of the most reputable graphic designers in Los Angeles, Nick still found time to prioritize your business. The stickers had been just one of the hit merchandise pieces he’d supplied you with. 

“Do you know what you should sell?” Chris added, poking your cheek and then smiling when you looked at him fondly. “Alcohol. Lavender martinis would sell like crazy in a flower shop.”

“I’m not getting a liquor license,” You snorted. “Besides, I don’t even think the store has enough room for a bar.”

“Who said anything about a bar? All you need is a bartender.” Chris hummed, pulling you into his lap. 

It was true. Chris had become quite skilled in his ability to make drinks any and everywhere over the past year since he’d gotten his bartender certification. In your opinion, the job was perfect for him. The fast-paced, fun environment and the amount of money you could make if you were entertaining and talkative was right up the brunette’s alley. His good nature made it pretty normal for him to come home on any given Friday night with about 600 dollars in cash. 

You snuggled into your best friend’s chest, breathing in his boyish scent happily. “Maybe one day we can open a flower and brunch place with a bar.” You told him. 

“You guys hear that? I’m the one Y/N wants to run a business with.” Chris chuckled, sticking his tongue out at the other two triplets. 

“Just wait til she figures out how you actually act,” Nick grumbled, pressing play on the movie you all had decided on. “Now be quiet.”

Before looking over at the movie, you turned your eyes towards Matt. He was still withdrawn into himself, curled into the L-shaped corner of the couch now. He had put his phone down, though, and in a feat of chance, turned to look at you at the exact same moment. Matt cocked his head like he wanted to ask you a question, but then shook his head, averting his eyes. You shrugged, figuring it still had to do with the exhaustion and stress from earlier in the day, but you couldn’t help but notice the feeling growing in your tummy at the thought that Matt had been looking at you first.

One terrible, low-budget movie later, you sat up out of Chris’ hold and looked around the living room. Nick had abandoned the movie in favor of his laptop, seemingly editing some sort of advertisement. That was just his personality. If something recreational didn’t immediately capture his attention, he was back to working his ass off. Maybe that was what made him such a successful entrepreneur, but either way, you admired him for helping people bring their dreams for their designs to fruition. Chris was scrolling through his phone, every now and then migrating into his work group chat to chuckle at the stories his fellow bartenders had to share about cutting someone off for the night. Matt, on the other, had fallen asleep, chin resting in his hand. You felt rather bad for him; January was always a stressful month for tattoo artists and piercers because people had Christmas money and gift cards, and they wanted their modifications to be healed by summer time. 

“I’m gonna shower,” You told your two (awake) best friends, standing up and stretching. “Do you guys mind?” 

“You know that’s like asking to shower in your own home, right?” Chris stood up behind you, tickling your sides. 

“It’s…still…the polite thing to do!” You laughed, gasping for breath at the tickling. 

“But yes, we don’t care. Go ahead.” Chris placed a friendly kiss on the back of your head. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and your best friends to share platonic cheek kisses, cuddles, and hugs, but it didn’t make your heart any less happy. You smiled, making your way to Matt’s bathroom. You had kept shower stuff at the triplets’ home ever since the four of you had moved to LA. After all, you were at their house almost more than you were at your apartment. You trekked towards Matt’s bathroom since it was the closest to the living room. You knew he wouldn’t mind, especially because A) he was asleep and B) you’d done it before. 

You warmed the water up, ridding yourself of your clothes from the day, and stepping into the steamy heaven. You didn’t bother locking the door, knowing that on the off chance Matt did wake up, Chris and Nick would inform him that you were using his bathroom. You began to wash your hair, letting the rose scent of your shampoo fill the bathroom as you massaged your scalp, washing away the worries of both a busy day at your business, and the odd encounters you’d been having with the middle triplet all evening. You were so caught up in thinking that you didn’t even hear the doorknob to the bathroom turn as Matt stepped into the bathroom. 

Matt knew he shouldn’t have. You were one of his closest friends. There was no way he should be watching you showering. It was weird and wrong on so many levels, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from your body. You looked peaceful, head thrown back under the water and eyes closed, soft moans escaping your lips as you relaxed. The way the warm water and soap suds caressed your body and curves as they cascaded into the drain made him think about what other white substances would look like dripping down your body in the shower. 

What the fuck? Why was he thinking about railing you? You two weren’t even that close and he didn’t like you like that. Still, Matt couldn’t deny the tightening in his cock at the image of you in front of him, and the image of you in his mind. He told himself that it was just because he hadn’t been laid in so long, but the brunette couldn’t help the soft groan that made its way out of his mouth. 

At the sound, your eyes flew open, head turning towards the door. “Matt?” You futilely tried to cover yourself, knowing it was useless. Matt had already seen it all. 

“Fuck, I…uh, fuck–Y/N, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, clearing his throat. “I was just coming to brush my teeth and Nick and Chris didn’t tell me you were…in here.”

You shut the water off quickly, grabbing the towel you’d thrown over the side of the glass door and wrapping it around your body. “Shit, I’m sorry, Matt. I should’ve locked the door.”

“It’s um, it’s fine,” Matt coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. “I’m just gonna…grab my toothbrush and use Chris’ bathroom tonight. ‘S all yours in here.”

You watched as Matt grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and scrambled out of the bathroom. You were still standing in the draining shower, dripping wet and shivering. Part of you couldn’t believe that one of your best male friends had seen you showering, but for some reason, another part of you wasn’t mad about it. Unbeknownst to you, though, Matt was feeling the same way in his cold shower downstairs. 

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[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

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[queenxxxsupreme]

At the End of the World

(Cooper Howard x Reader)

A/N: I know absolutely squat about the Fallout universe but I like to think I’ve done my research good enough. This is my first kick at trying a Cooper Howard x reader so I am getting a feel for his character, please be kind :) Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: nothing outside of canon, little fluffy here and there

Summary: You run into a certain ghoul and the vault dweller he’s taken as hostage.

Side Note: I called the inhaler thing that Cooper uses to keep from going feral a breather cause that sounded better than inhaler in my head??

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her temple into the wall. She licked her lips in an effort to ease the pain she felt. Her lips were so dry they had cracked again and again.

“Better get some shut eye, Vaultie.”

She opened her eyes and looked across the room to the man holding her hostage. Calling him a man was a stretch. He hadn’t been a man for quite some time. Ghoulification had taken over his features long ago, gnarling his skin and turning him into something between man and monster.

Lucy said nothing to him and put her head back against the wall. Part of her wished she had never left the vault. How could people live on the surface? There were no rules, no regulations, not even morals. It was no way to live. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. She knew she needed to sleep, but she wasn’t sure how much she’d be able to get.

Lucy wasn’t able to concentrate on sleep for very long. After what seemed like just seconds, the Ghoul moved. He straightened his hat and pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip. His eyes remained on the window between himself and Lucy.

“What—?”

”Quiet.” He cut Lucy off.

The vault dweller closed her mouth and tried to listen to whatever the Ghoul heard.

“This has to be where they holed up for the night.” A hushed voice spoke.

”You sure it was a vault dweller, Dart?”

”Positive. You know how much we could get for one of those if we find the right buyer?”

The Ghoul stood to his feet. The wall they were behind was the only bit of building left from what had once been a house. There wasn’t even a roof or another wall, just the piece that Lucy and the Ghoul were hiding behind.

“Looky here, fellas.” A voice came from behind the Ghoul. The sound of a hammer clicking on a pistol made him roll his eyes. “Turn around slow, buddy.”

”You fellas are askin’ for trouble.” The Ghoul warned.

“Drop the gun. Don’t want to hurt you, just want the vaultie.”

The Ghoul let his pistol fall to the dirt floor as he turned to face the unwelcomed guests. The guests consisted of three men and a woman.

“Say, you think we could get anything for a ghoul too?” The woman whispered to the man closest to her.

“It’s far too late in the night for y’all to cause a ruckus.” The Ghoul spoke. “Why don’t you turn around and go back the way you came before one of yous gets hurt?”

One of the men chuckled and shook his head.

“Ain’t no way we’re leaving without her.” He gestured to Lucy with the end of his sawed off shotgun.

Without any warning, a gun was fired once, twice, then three times. The Ghoul watched as all three raiders fell to the ground, blood pouring out of head wounds. His eyes flickered around, seeking out where the shots had come from. He couldn’t see a damn thing in the pitch black night.

Then there was a whistle. It was low and steady, lasting a couple seconds before a second whistle followed.

Lucy’s eyes were wide with panic as she strained to see where the noise came from. She searched the darkness, eyes flighting back and forth. The Ghoul didn’t seem nearly as panicked. In fact, he almost looked confused.

The wind shifted and blew a breeze directly towards him, carrying a familiar scent with it.

“What-What is that?” Lucy croaked. Her throat was so dry that her voice was raspy.

The Ghoul picked up his gun that he had dropped earlier on the ground. He brushed the dirt from it as a grin appeared on his lips.

“Oh that? That ain’t nothin’ but a little ol’ mouse.”

”Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” A soft and sweet voice came from the darkness.

Lucy watched as you moved into her line of sight. You appeared to be human, dressed in black cargo style pants tucked into worn dark brown boots. You wore a dark gray sweatshirt that was tattered around the hem and a brown jacket overtop of the sweatshirt. A dark green scarf wrapped loosely around your neck.

“Haven’t seen you for a while.” The Ghoul spoke, his eyes focused on you.

”Could say the same for you.” Your gaze found Lucy. She offered you a quick and friendly smile, but the sight of your left eye caught the poor girl off guard. It was glowing in the darkness, letting off an electric blue light. “Making new friends, Coop?”

”Ah, you know me. Always looking for a new friend.” The Ghoul’s tone was friendly and light. Lucy had never heard him sound anything close to nice.

You smiled just a little, shaking your head gently as you took a few more steps towards the two.

“Miss? Uh, m-miss?” Lucy tried to move towards you but the sound of the Ghoul pulling the hammer on his pistol back stopped her.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, Vaultie. Sit your ass back down.” He gave a stiff nod to the ground where she had been sitting moments ago.

You kept your eyes on Lucy as she returned to her seat. Her eyes found yours again and you had to look away in order to avoid feeling bad for her. The Ghoul sat down and you took the spot right next to him, shrugging your backpack off of your shoulders and placing it between your legs.

“What happened with Dom Pedro?”

”Ain’t important.” He muttered with a shake of his head. You unzipped your backpack and pulled out a canteen.

“What’s your name, girl?”

”Lu-Lucy. My name is— My name is Lucy.” She stammered, pausing to lick her dry lips. “What’s your name?”

You leaned forward to pass her the canteen. She needed it far more than you did.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!” Lucy hastily opened the canteen and began to drink from it rather hastily.

“Friends call me Icy.” You answered her question. “Seems to be what I go by anymore.”

A raspy cough from the Ghoul made you snap your head in his direction. He tried to stifle the cough but it was no use. You had already heard.

“Where’s your breather?”

”Don’t got— Don’t got any vials.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aint’ no use to me.”

”Where are all your vials at?” You knew him too well. There was no way he’d let himself run out. You pulled your backpack closer to you and began to dig around inside hastily.

”Lost them in a tussle with the Vaultie.”

For a brief second, your eyes flickered up to Lucy. You decided then and there that if Cooper turned, you’d kill her yourself.

“You know, I could kick your ass for being so careless, old man.”

”Suppose you could.” He chuckled but it was cut short by another dry cough. “Wouldn’t- Wouldn’t do you any good, but it sure as hell would make for a good time.”

”Well given your current state, sweetheart, I think the odds would be in my favor.” You pulled out the sachet with vials and handed them to the ghoul. He took it from you, your fingers brushing momentarily but just enough to have your heart beating a little quicker.

“Thank ya, doll.” He murmured quietly. You offered him a smile, watching as he put the vial in his breather and took a hit.

“You two are…. Are you close?” Lucy asked. You turned your attention to her, tilting your head to the side just a bit. She tried to smile, to show that she was trying to be friendly.

“Lucy, was it?”

”Yes.” She nodded her head.

“Those kind of questions, Lucy, get you a bullet in your gut out here.”

The smile fell from her broken lips and her brows drew together in confusion.

“I-I wasn’t– I didn’t mean it– It was more just an observation.”

You turned your head to Cooper. He tucked the breather into his jacket and then his eyes found you.

“Heard you came into some trouble a few months back.”

“Just got into it with a group of raiders back outside of Targon.” You leaned back against the metal junk he was leaning against. “Just the same old bullshit. Wanted my eye.”

He stayed quiet. He wished he had found you sooner.

“You need to get some sleep.” You leaned over to push your shoulder against his.

Cooper tilted his head down, the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

“Ain’t sleepin’ tonight, doll.”

“When was the last time you slept? You look exhausted.” You reached over to put your hand on his. “You need to sleep, Cooper.”

He held your gaze for a few heartbeats, losing himself in your eyes. He had been worried about you since he crawled out of the grave Dom Pedro had kept him in. He was worried he’d never be able to find you, that perhaps you would be dead when he did get to you.

The ghoul pulled himself out of his own thoughts and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say, boss. Don’t let the Vaultie get too friendly.”

You smiled a little.

“Now you know that isn’t me, darling. I don’t let anyone get too friendly.”

“You let me get a little too friendly, if I remember correctly.”

“Shut your mouth, old man.” You smiled up at him. His grin you adored so much was covered up by the brim of his hat as he pulled it down.

You turned your attention to the girl that sat across from you.

“How long have you been upside?”

“Um, I-I don’t know for sure. A few weeks, I think.” She took another sip of water and then scooted a little closer to you so that she could hand the canteen back to you.

“Keep it.” You shook your head.

“Thank you.” She murmured quietly as she settled back into her spot. “Where, um, are you from?”

“Everywhere and nowhere all at once.” You let out a soft breath. “When you live for as long as I have, you don’t keep track of that sort of thing.”

“How…. How long have you been alive?”

“Long enough to know you don’t belong up here, Lucy.”

She held your gaze, almost too afraid to look away.

“I-I have to find my dad. He got taken by-by these raiders. They took him and I have to find him.”

You nodded gently. Lucy looked to the Ghoul, trying to figure out if he was asleep yet. After a couple moments of silence between you and Lucy, she could hear what sounded like gentle snoring.

“Icy, I need to find my dad. Please, you have to let me go.” She whispered.

“Quiet down, girl.” You stood to your feet, adjusting the holster that hung around your hips. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Where are you going?”

“Keep watch.”

***

Hours later, the blistering sun was just beginning its task of boiling the earth as it came up from the horizon.

You had been lost in thought, eyes gazing ahead at the sunrise. Your left eye, the cybernetic eye, kept track of the time, the rate the sun was rising, the temperature, and how fast the wind was going.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Cooper walking towards you.

“You slept good.” You commented, taking a sip of water. He had snored last night louder than you ever heard before.

“Easy to do when you’re around.” Cooper came to stand beside you, one hand finding the small of your back. “You know, I was– uh– I was worried bout you.”

“Same could be said for me to you.” Your eyes flickered across the baron land before you. There was nothing to see for miles and miles except dirt and remnants of destroyed buildings casting long shadows in the early morning light. “I’d heard whispers thrown around about what Dom Pedro was doing to you. When I get my hands on him–,”

“I don’t want you gettin’ anywhere near him, Icy Mae.”

You clenched your teeth together. Fiery anger swirled in your gut. Cooper’s hand on your back moved just slightly, rubbing your back in an effort to comfort you.

“No need in grinding those little teeth, doll.”

“I’ve spent three years trying to find you.”

“I know.”

“I want to kill him for what he’s done to you.”

Cooper let out a sigh.

“Lemme see those pretty eyes, doll.”

You turned your head away from him even more. You didn’t want him to see the tears that festered in your right eye.

“Look at me, Icy.”

You took in a breath through your nose before begrudgingly turning to face the ghoul. His fingertips found your jaw, tracing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. Blue eyes followed his fingertips as he brushed away the stray tear that slipped down your cheek.

“I was afraid you’d be gone by the time I got to you. So many people I talked to said that you had died.”

“You know ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me from you, doll. Not even death.” He was trying to use his voice to make you feel better. Sometimes you felt that all he had to do was say your name in that raspy drawl of his and everything would be cured.

“Stop trying to charm me, old man.”

“Oh, I ain’t tryin’ to do anything, darling.”

You turned your head away from him, trying to focus on anything else. But he took your chin in his hand, gently turning your head back to him. you had no choice but to look up into his eyes.

“Missed you, woman.” He spoke in a hushed whisper. You couldn’t stay angry with him looking at you. It was rare to see those stern eyes so bright. A smile snuck its way onto your lips. You turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand.

“Distracting me, old man, won’t make me change my mind.”

“He ain’t worth your trouble, doll.” His hand left your face and even though it was hot outside, you found yourself missing the warmth of his touch. He placed his hand on your side, drawing your body a little closer to his.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw something move. You turned your head, disappointed to see Lucy moving towards you and Cooper.

The ghoul sighed as he removed his hand from your side and adjusted his hat, pulling it down just enough so the brim covered his eyes. You turned to face the vault dweller.

“Good morning, Lucy.”

”Good morning.” She smiled lightly. She looked from you to Cooper, unsure of which of you to look at.

“We should leave.” Your words weren’t really meant for her, but instead for the large figure that stood so close behind you.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cooper grumbled. ”Let’s get this show on the road.”

***

A couple hours later, you all walked in a poor excuse of a line. Lucy led the way with you followed just shortly behind her and the Ghoul behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Cooper kept his right hand on the handle of the gun holster on his hip. He gave you a light nod of his head, to which you smiled.

Lucy slowed down just a little to be able to walk alongside you.

“I just—,”

”Keep moving, Vaultie.” Cooper spoke up from behind you.

“Give her a second, darling.” You looked over your shoulder to flash him a toothy smile.

“Thank you.”

You looked at Lucy out of the corner of your right eye.

“For what?”

”For being so nice to me. Giving me water and-and talking to me.”

You said nothing to her.

”Can I ask you a question?”

”Depends on the question.”

”Is Icy your real name? The name you were born with?”

You almost laughed at her.

“Hardly. Icy is just a nickname I got through the years. Comes from my eye.” You tapped your left temple. You cybernetic eye was a bright blue almost icy color.

“What’s your real name?”

”Why does it matter what my real name is?” You glanced over to her.

”It-It doesn’t. I was just curious.”

”Curiosity will get you killed up here, girly. People don’t think it’s too kind and friendly to be asking all sorts of questions.”

“I-I’m– Okay.” Lucy pressed her lips into a tight line. It was so hard just to make conversation with people from the surface.

You slowed down just a bit so that Lucy would keep walking ahead of you.

“Told you not to be friendly with her.” Cooper bumped your shoulder with his. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not being friendly. Just trying to make conversation ‘cause I know you aren’t gonna be. What are you doing with her anyways?”

“Originally, I was gonna sell her for more vials. But now that you’re here, plans have changed a bit.” Cooper paused. “She’s a MacLean.”

You turned your head to Cooper, brows furrowing together. Without meaning to, you stopped walking.

“A what?”

“You heard me.”

“How?”

“She’s the daughter of Hank MacLean.”

Your fingers curled into fists by your sides. The very mention of Hank MacLean made your blood boil. The mention of anyone from Vault-Tec was enough to get you angry and ready to start fighting.

“What are we going to do with her?” You found yourself glaring at Lucy as she continued to walk, unaware that the both of you had stopped.

Cooper glanced over to you, adjusting the shotgun he held over his shoulder.

“Use her to get to her daddy.”

“They’ve ruined so many lives, Cooper. Vault-Tec has.”

“Oh, I know, darling.” He started walking again.

The anger in your stomach started to form into something else, into grief. There she was, Hank MacLean’s daughter, walking just ahead of you. Vault-Tec had ended so many lives, broken up so many families. Why did he get to have a family? Why did he get to see his daughter grow up?

Cooper stopped when he noticed you weren’t following him. He glanced back at you, taking note of your left hand that gripped the gun on your hip.

“Come on, Icy Mae.” He called for you. “Ain’t no use gettin’ worked up.”

Lucy stopped upon hearing the Ghoul say your name. She turned back to look at you. Your eyes met hers and you saw her furrow her brows together in confusion. Why did you look so upset, so angry?

“Don’t tell me how to be, Cooper.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you how to be, woman. Just telling you gettin’ mad ain’t gonna do nobody any good.”

“Is something wrong?” Lucy asked.

Your eyes left the girl to find Cooper.

“It isn’t fair, Coop.” You whispered, but he heard you just fine. He said nothing as he held your gaze. “Just isn’t fair.” You took your hand off of the gun and started walking again.

***

The day seemed to drag on for an eternity. No one had spoken very much. Everyone was tired and doing their best to make their energy last.

As the sun went away, camp was made on the outskirts of what used to be a town. The three of you took refuge inside of what appeared to be some kind of overturned bus. A battery powered lamp was on and sat in the middle of the bus, providing the otherwise pitch black night with a tiny source of light.

Lucy sat down against the roof of the bus, moving her hands around in an attempt to get comfortable with the rope around her wrist. You moved towards her, pulling a knife from its holster on your lower back.

”What are you doin’, woman?”

”Yeah, what are you doing?” Lucy shifted in her spot, eyes sticking to the knife you held. She tried to move away, pushing herself backwards. “Hey! Hey—!”

”Quiet down.” You muttered, kneeling down to cut away the rope.

“Oh.” Lucy watched the rope fall away then she rubbed her wrists. “Th-Thank you.”

“Icy, what the hell?”

”May as well let her get comfortable for the night.” You tucked the knife back into the sheath on your back. ”And she can’t go no where. We’re surrounded by nothing. She‘ll die from the elements before she gets far.”

Cooper sighed, putting his hands on his hips. You shrugged off your backpack and placed it down next to his bag. You sat down, adjusting your backpack before leaning against it.

“I’m gonna go have a look around.” He told you. “See if we’re alone out here.”

”Be careful.”

The ghoul gave you a nod, then turned towards Lucy.

“You try anything funny, Vaultie, and I won’t hesitate to skin you alive.”

“I-I won’t. I promise.”

You watched as Cooper slipped out of the overturned bus and disappeared into the night.

Once he was completely gone, you leaned forward to start taking off some of your layers. With the sun down, you didn’t have to worry about its harsh rays.

Lucy watched as you took off the jacket and placed it aside, then pulled the sweatshirt off of your head and added it to the jacket. You were left in a thin tank top that appeared to be a dark shade of brown. The gloves you wore came up to your elbows. You tugged each one off, setting them aside. With all the layers off, Lucy could now see the scars that covered your arms. They were darker than the rest of your skin and seemed to go in a gnarled and twisted pattern from the backs of your hands up to your shoulders.

You looked up, feeling eyes on you. The girl was watching you, her gaze curious but horrified all at once.

“I-I’m sorry.” She stuttered out. “What, um, what happened to you?”

”Got caught in a fire a few years back.” You rubbed your left arm, then started to rub the right one.

”Is that what happened to your eye?”

You stopped moving, her question catching you off guard.

You reached behind you into one of the side pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Then you settled back against the backpack, bringing your eyes up to meet hers.

Your cybernetic eye read her vitals and told you that she was nervous. A slightly elevated heart rate and increased breathing.

”No.” You put the cigarette between your lips then pulled a lighter from a pocket on your pants. “My eye was taken from me at the start of the war.”

”Oh.” She was quiet for a few heartbeats, looking away from you. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

”Vault-Tec.”

Your answer seemed to surprise her. She drew her eyebrows together.

”Vault-Tec?”

“It’s a long story, girly.” Your face lit up a little as you lit the cigarette.

”Well…. We’ve got time.”

”That we do.” You sunk down a little more to get comfortable.

Lucy could tell you didn’t really want to talk about your eye or Vault-Tec or your scars anymore. She looked down at her hands, rubbing her wrists just a little more before she let out a soft breath.

“How do you know him? That guy?”

”Known him for a while.” You turned your attention to the black sky. ”Ran into each other ages ago. We’d go our separate ways no and again but somehow…. Somehow we always run into each other.”

If the man in question hadn’t been so mean and callous, perhaps Lucy would have smiled.

“But how can you…. How can you be with someone like that? Someone who-who is okay with so much murder and so much cruelty?”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, debating on what to say next. Lucy thought perhaps you were ignoring her, but then you slowly sat up. You crossed your legs and leaned forward with your elbows on your knees.

“I used to have a daughter.” Your voice was hushed, eyes cast down to the flashlight providing a little bit of light. You took a deep inhale of the cigarette. In the same moment that you breathed out a cloud of smoke, you continued to talk. “Used to have a husband too. He was a good man. He’d move heaven and earth for me and my girl.”

You paused to see if Lucy would say anything. When she remained silent, you carried on.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Miss MacLean. You’ve only ever known comfort your whole life. You don’t know what people have had to endure up here…. what good people have had to do…. in order to survive.”

Lucy looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer.

“There are no rules up here, no guidelines, no sense of ethics. If you want to survive, you have to do things you wouldn’t normally do. Good men do bad things to make sure they survive.”

Lucy directed her eyes downward. You flicked the cigarette ashes down onto the ground beside you.

“I’m-I’m sorry about your family.”

Your gaze was drawn to the girl once more.

“About everything you’ve been through.”

A whistle made both of you turn your heads. Lucy almost started to panic, but you shook your head gently.

”It’s just Cooper.” You took another puff from the cigarette. A few moments of silence passed before the Ghoul was making his way back into the overturned bus. “Find anything?” You sat up and offered him the cigarette.

“Nah, there’s nothin’ here but us and dirt.” He sat down next to you, settling with sitting up while you stayed hunkered down with your head on the backpack.

Lucy moved around a bit to get herself comfortable, choosing to lay on her side with her arm under her head as she faced the light.

”It’s your turn to get some sleep, woman.”

You turned your head to look up at Cooper.

“Don’t know if I’m gonna be able to sleep much, darling.” You took the cigarette back from him and puffed on it a little bit.

“You should try.”

You hummed but said nothing more.

After a few minutes, Lucy fell asleep, giving you and the ghoul next to you the smallest bits of privacy.

Neither of you said anything for a long time. You passed the cigarette back and forth until it was finished up by Cooper.

You scooted closer to him, trying to get as deep into his side as you could. He lifted his arm until you were comfortable, then he put his arm down around you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

”I haven’t been able to stop thinking about killing her all day, Cooper.” You murmured.

“Oh, yeah?”

”I want to take her head to her father.”

He looked down at you, unsure if what he had heard was what you said.

”He shouldn’t get to have a family. No one at Vault-Tec should.”

”You’re gonna get yourself all worked up, doll. Best not go down that rabbit hole tonight.”

You took a deep breath, reaching your hand up to hold on to his fingers.

”I don’t want to feel that way, Coop. I don’t want to hurt her.”

”Hush now.” Cooper leaned down to kiss your head. “Get some sleep, Icy Mae.”

#cooper Howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fallout #fallout fic #cooper Howard the ghoul #cooper Howard #fallout #fallout tv series #queenxxxsupreme

[nnnyxie]

kozume kenma crushing on you

requested by @jellyfishandry

⤷ despite what people may think, kenma is very expressive with how he feels about people.

⤷ just not in the way others are used to.

⤷ his face is what really gives him away—

⤷ especially since he’s always been bad at regulating his expressions. (coach nekomata said he makes ‘unique’ faces and i think that’s cute)

⤷ he doesn’t realize it but, he definitely slow blinks like a cat too. (which, if you didn’t know, cats blink slowly as an affectionate gesture)

⤷ and he does acts of service (ex; he joined vb for kuroo) and is sort of a gift giver— but not really?? (he thinks that if you frequently give gifts then the sentiment of giving loses it’s meaning) he’ll buy something if it reminds him of you!

⤷ kenma’s like the cat in the neighborhood that hates everyone but tolerates you for whatever reason.

⤷ i like to think that he invites you over for streams!!

⤷ he lets you sit off to the side, respecting that you don’t want to be on camera.

⤷ and this makes his fans go wild trying to figure out who it could be.

⤷ they become like— obsessed w/ you.

⤷ and they absolutely adore you for making ken (more) expressive.

⤷ he’ll send any nice comments or posts they make about you, saying “lol my fans really like you” (that’s his nonchalant attempt at getting you to come over more)

⤷ they make ‘ship’ edits of him looking off to the side (where you sit) and your slightly distorted voice talking to/laughing at him—

⤷ and whenever he sees them, he gets all blushy and smiley. (but then he catches himself and stops immediately)

⤷ the edits are just his guilty pleasure…

i couldn’t find inspiration for any other character so it’s just my cutie patootie kenma

#/ᐠ - ˕ -マ works — ♡︎ #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader

[buckttommy]

i don't think i really understand pr and what actors should and shouldn't say. why is what oliver's saying so wild?

Hi, it's okay. I'll walk you through it. The tl;dr version is written in bold.

So. PR, or, Public Relations, is the dynamic between the general public (us) and any entity that has interests to protect (in this case, that would be the network + 911). PR teams are designed to ensure the relationship between the public and [their entity] is as harmonious as possible. Happy relationship, happy consumer, happy company.

Because keeping the peace is the intention of good pr, pleasant ambiguity is the name of the game. People can speculate, and people can guess, but no one should ever be able to look back at your words and claim that you've given a definitive answer on anything—good or bad—because definitive statements can harm the entity's bottom line, whatever that may be.

Oliver is very good at keeping the peace between the network and the public. We know this because we have seen evidence supporting this fact for years. He always says a little bit of what everyone wants to hear—he'll keep things vague (plausible deniability) for the sake of the network, while also giving nods of support and encouragement to the fandom without promising anything. You know how he's talked about being cautious and aware of what he's saying in interviews because he knows the impact it could have? Okay, well, aside from wanting to avoid "queerbaiting" allegations, this is part of the reason. PR is a very delicate game and he plays it very well.

Or at least he did.

Right now, Oliver is using binoculars to identify the line, making sure the line is exactly where he left it, and then taking a giant wrecking ball to it. Because now, Oliver is saying things that should absolutely not be said in interviews, or to anyone in the general public, at all. Now, he's elevating the conversation from pure speculation, to actively confirming and placing the blame at people's feet for things that have gone on behind the scenes.

Saying that Buck's Queer storyline was floated years ago? Huge no-no. Why? You were on tumblr yesterday. You can see why. People were angry, and people were hurt, but most importantly, people started to ask questions. We started to look at past arcs, past moments in Buck and in Buck and Eddie's relationship (because, whether you like it or not, Buck's queerness is and always has been tangentially linked to the existence of Buddie) to try and pinpoint when/how his queer arc could have launched. Now. Most of us have been here for years, so we can easily look back at the show and see where it's pretty damn obvious how Buck's Queer arc could have launched, depending on the arc(s), the characters at the time, things that were going on outside of the show (re: Oliver liking Buddie edits before/after the shooting), etc.

But we're not the only ones who are reading these interviews. Other people—casual fans, new fans, people who don't give a damn at all and are just clicking around on the internet—are going to look at these interviews, they're going to look at the things Oliver is saying, and they're going to have the same questions that we had. When could this have happened? And, more importantly, why didn't it? To keep it simple: everyone is going to start looking a little closer at the man behind the curtain, and the network does not want that.

Now, sure, it could be argued that, "hey, 911 isn't with FOX anymore, so maybe Oliver is allowed to say these things." But that's not really how it works. Sure, he might have a bit more leeway (as in, a microscopic, so-small-it-might-as-well-be-insignificant amount of leeway) to say whatever it is he wants, but this isn't the first time a major transfer/acquisition has occurred, and there are safeguards in place (such as NDA's—Non-Disclosure Agreements—which often do not expire for years post-acquisition, depending on the entity they're protecting) to prevent him from harming FOX's bottom line. So, that reasoning rings hollow. Especially because, now, it's not just FOX he's pulling into the fray either.

In the article that dropped today, he openly acknowledges this thing between Buck and Eddie in Season 7. And at this point, we're well into ABC's era. So the fact that he's saying, "I went to Tim and asked if there's something I can play with when Eddie says he's going on a date"—that's odd behavior from him. Not necessarily bad, just odd. And after years of toeing the line, the question that has to be asked now is why? And, more importantly, why now?

Does this mean that Buddie is going canon? Not necessarily (and, before anyone freaks out, I'm not saying it's not going canon either; I'm just saying this isn't an indication). But The Buddie Problem, at least, in the way Oliver is addressing it, is something the Higher Ups would want to keep quiet for as long as possible, for whatever reason. Maybe because they intend to go forward with it. Maybe because they don't. But the fact that he's cracking the shades open and letting light through is deeply fascinating.

But, despite all this, it's important, also, to realize that, even with demolishing the good PR line he's always walked so carefully, Oliver still isn't promising us anything. He's still treading carefully regarding how we, Buddie shippers, will interpret his words. He's not claiming Buddie canon is a go and it'd be remiss to think that's the implication here when it's not. He's not that stupid, and he's not that cruel. But all of it is very curious.

So that's why a lot of us are looking at each other, and then looking at Oliver, wondering what the hell he's doing. Because he knows better, and we know he knows better. We know he's very good at playing this delicate game but right now, he's making moves that are... intriguing... to say the least. And it's not just him, even though he's the main culprit. 9-1-1's move to ABC—and this entire press junket since 7x4—has been rife with sensitive information being released to the public, starting with Lou's untrained self revealing that it was supposed to be Eddie and Tommy that were going to get together, and circling back around to... literally every single word Oliver has uttered in the past three weeks.

So. It's odd! As you can see. So I'm sitting back, and I'm waiting and seeing because something is happening behind the scenes, and I don't know what it is (and I don't even think it's bad!) but it is still very much happening. So.

#god this was so long and i'm so fucking late for work #jack answers mail #tv: 911 #oliver stark

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: ANGST! Use of the unforgivables, bIood, major and minor character dеath, major sad moments, mental breakdowns, taking characters to their breaking point, pain, griеf… I’m really sorry. Prompt: What happens when you hear something dreadful happening, will you stand up for what's right? Will you stay quiet for the greater good? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

A/N: This chapter is getting shadowbanned no matter what I change so please like, reblog and comment so it does not go under the radar.

Chapter 44: No One But You 

A hand above the water An angel reachin' for the sky Is it raining in Heaven? Do you want us to cry?

Where the hell is the alcohol in this party? You wondered as you stepped out of the room, dealing with Arkalis and Evan was more than enough for the rest of the night. If only you could find a corner, pull out a book and focus on that without being bothered by anything or anyone else, you’d be satisfied. Of course, that could not be the case, could it? 

“Well look who’s here?” Barty said with a smile as he blocked your path. 

“Oh, Barty!” you said as you tilted your head. “You should probably go look for Evan, he seemed like he needed… a friend.” 

Barty’s eyes seemed to burn when you spoke, but you stood your ground, even as he approached you with ferocity. He might be as tall as you were, even if younger, and he might have been able to overpower you in the past, but he was not about to make a scene in the middle of the party, he wasn’t dumb, he had never been. And clearly, he wasn’t important enough for the deatheater clique to be at the private dinner, he didn’t need unwanted attention. 

“If you did something to him again…” he said, voice low and threatening.

You blinked calmly at him, “Barty… in this party, you should be careful with the things that come out of your mouth.” He grabbed onto your wrist, anger clearly seething from him. “I didn’t touch him,” you said as you looked down at his hand and then back at his face, “I’d suggest you’d have the decency of doing the same.” 

Then you felt a hand on your shoulder, Barty finally let go of his hold on you but stayed in his place, glaring now at the person standing behind you. 

“And I would suggest you turn the fuck away before I hex you again. Remember where you are Crouch. This might be Arkalis’ dinner, but my father was the one to invite Tom here.” 

Barty gave you another look of hatred and then stormed off. You sighed and turned back to look at Regulus. 

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, eyebrows softly knit in concern.

“No,” you said as you shook your head and moved your hand a little bit, it was the same arm Evan had latched onto you earlier, but frankly, after having fallen from your broom, punched by bludgers, dragged by water spirits and scratched by werewolves, this felt like nothing. “Is there Firewhiskey here?”

“Firewhiskey?” Regulus asked in disbelief. “You want to drink?” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never sneaked out Firewhiskey from your father’s stash.” Regulus gave you a look in return that was answer enough. “So, you’ve never drunk?” 

He shook his head and you laughed at that, “Such a good boy,” you teased. In response, Regulus pushed you to the side, which only made you laugh a little more. “Let’s find some,” you said with a smile, Regulus tilted his head to the side disapprovingly. 

“It’s a terrible idea to do it here,” he responded. 

“Come on, Reg, there’s no way you want to see whatever the hell those people consider to be a show, do you?” 

Regulus averted your gaze, and you narrowed your eyes at him. Does he know something…

A glass of cold water over your dress diverted your thoughts. “Oh, sorry,” the girl said, she had a streak of white hair pulled back behind her ears and looked far from being sorry. 

Your dress was black, so whatever she had poured, certainly didn’t ruin the look, even if it was fucking freezing you now, “Whatever, I’ll just use a drying spell,” you said as you pulled your wand out and waved it over your dress. 

“You’re Silas’ daughter, aren’t you? You were sitting next to Lucius at the dinner.” 

You turned to her with a small frown, she was the girl talking to Barty earlier, the one that looked like Sirius and Regulus. You extended your hand politely, “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.” 

She seemed irritated at your lack of recognition. “This is my cousin Narcissa, Cygnus’ daughter,” Reggie said, introducing her to you.  

Cygnus’ daughter… Where had you heard that name? Right, Andromeda’s sister, you thought. You hadn’t spoken much to Andromeda Tonks, though Sirius and Remus had shown you some of her letters. As far as you knew, she had been kicked out of the family in the same way Sirius had, and her sisters had done nothing to help them. But then again, Regulus hadn’t helped Sirius either and you didn’t hate him for that. 

“Nice to meet you,” you added, she gave you a look before actually shaking your hand. 

“You’re dating Sirius,” she added, her tone making it clear that she looked down on you for it. 

“Cissy,” Regulus said in a warning tone. 

“I am, he’s delightful, you should know since you grew up together.” 

She scoffed. “Sirius is a disaster. He would always spark chaos and make stupid pranks on the parties, I’m glad he’s not invited anymore. He wears that awful leather jacket all the time, pretending to be a muggle or whatever and he’s insufferably loud.” 

“All of which I find absolutely charming,” you replied with a nonchalant smile, “You do not?” 

Cissy, as Regulus called her, scoffed again. “Just stay away from Lucius,” she added before leaving you and Regulus behind in favour of talking with someone else, her long hair flipping behind her in a rather majestic way that you would have praised had she not been a total bitch to Sirius. It must be in their genes, you thought, the Blacks have amazing hair.

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “The hell was that about?” 

“Lucius is her fiancé, she must have seen you talking to him at the dinner,” Regulus said. “You… looked very interested in whatever he was telling you.” 

“Oh, that?” You asked with a smile that turned into a smirk, “I was trying to piss Evan off.” 

“I figured.” 

“Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an offence.” Regulus raised his eyebrows at you and you gasped in disbelief. Then you spotted someone serving themselves a drink over in the far corner, it was the bar. You smirked, “Come on Reg, I’ll teach you how to drink.” 

“I don’t need to–” 

“Just come,” you added and pulled him along with you, you managed to convince the house elf there to give you a half-empty bottle of Fire Whiskey after telling them Arkalis had asked you to take them to him and pulled Reggie along towards a balcony. 

“It’s cold,” he said as the two of you stepped out, you could see the puff of condensed air blowing from his mouth as he spoke. 

“This’ll warm you up,” you said as you offered him the bottle. He gave you an exasperated look that was an awful lot like Sirius’ but took the bottle in his hands anyway, taking a small sip and scrunching up his face as he felt the bitter taste. Then he coughed and covered his mouth with his arm as he returned the bottle to you with a disgusted frown, you were laughing so much it took you a second to lean closer to him and place your hand on his back. “You all right?” 

“No wonder they call it Firewhiskey,” he said as he managed to catch his breath. You laughed again, still rubbing your hand over his back, he shook his head as he stood straight. He was a deal taller than you now, it hadn’t quite settled back in school, but it was evident now. “Why would you even drink it?” 

“Do you not feel warmer?” you asked as with a raised eyebrow, he seemed to think about it for a second. You were now taking your own sip of the bottle. 

“A warming spell would for sure do the trick.” 

You sighed and leaned over to look at the sky, you could see Sirius’ star up there, shiny and beautiful, just like him. Walburga and Orion might have been awful, but they definitely had a good eye for picking out names, even if they were just copying those of the stars. 

“Yeah, but it would take away the fun,” you said, head still tilted up and looking at the sky. You heard a few whispers from the inside, and you leaned your head over the window, there were people crowding a certain area of the room. Regulus stepped in between you and the window. 

“How’s school going?” 

You gave him a look, that was a stupid question. 

“I mean, I saw you at the Slug Party, you’ve been doing good at potions, haven’t you?” he pressed. 

“Haven’t I?” you asked with a frown, allowing your gaze to turn back to him. “It’s all thanks to my partner, he’s really good?” 

“Sirius?” Regulus asked, he had never heard of his brother being remarkably good at potions. 

“What? No, my potions partner, Remus.” 

“Ah… of course,” he said, now he had heard how good his brother’s best friend was. He was even a prefect. 

“But I’m shit at transfiguration,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t think Minnie and Horace are friends enough to discuss such things, though.” 

“I could teach you,” he offered. 

“Thanks, but I’ve already got a tutor.” You tilted your head to the side to try and see inside and then he moved, blocking your line of sight again. “Regulus?” 

“Yeah?” he asked, playing dumb. 

“You know what’s happening there, don’t you?” 

He swallowed thickly, “Nothing you should be concerned about, it’s adult stuff.” You shook your head as that and motioned to move inside but he stopped you again. “Please!” He sounded desperate. “Let’s stay here, and drink a bit more, I’m… I’m not looking forward to seeing my parents again.” 

You sighed, you knew how delicate it was for both Regulus and Sirius to deal with Walburga and Orion, and perhaps you shouldn’t have listened, you should have followed your instinct and walked inside, but there was something about the pleading expression Regulus had made that convinced you. You huffed out a breath and turned back to him. “How’s school for you? Messing with Severus didn’t put you on the spot, did it?” 

Regulus shook his head and carefully moved to the side, pulling his wand from his pocket and secretly casting a spell towards the doors so the sounds from the inside wouldn’t filter to the outside. You were looking at his face, so determined to figure out his emotions that you failed to notice what he was doing.   

“Not at all,” he responded. “Severus thinks it was all your fault.” 

You pouted at that, “How could it even be my fault, he’s the one that ate the snacks, I didn’t even offer them to him.” 

Regulus laughed at that, “So you had nothing to do? No emotional manipulation involved?” 

“What do you take me for? A housemate?” 

“Haven’t you been saying you ‘missed the whole indoctrination’ part by getting to Hogwarts so late?” 

“Doesn’t change the fact the snakes can be very manipulative. You know the muggles think they’re to blame for losing paradise.” 

Regulus huffed as he shook his head, he was just proving your point right then and there, “Well, I’ve never met a snake with ‘Vixen’ as a nickname.” 

“You know about that?” you asked in disbelief. “How do you even know about that?” 

“The entire school knows about that! Potter isn’t exactly subtle when he calls you. To be honest, I thought he was pissed the first time I heard it, and then I was surprised you weren’t insulted by it.” 

“It’s an inside joke.” 

“I could tell,” he responded and then smirked, almost imperceptibly, “I think it fits.” 

“Ass,” you said with a laugh and pushed him lightly. He laughed along with you. 

Talking with Regulus was fun, he told you more about the Slytherin common room, he mentioned seeing the giant squid through their window once when he was in his second year studying for a quiz late at night, and he told you about the time he had done the quidditch trials, back when Dorcas was still in the team. He asked you about the race, and you told him that’s when you and Sirius got together. 

You also told him about some of the fun things you had done with the boys, like picnics near the lake and even sneaking out at night to get books from the forbidden section. He asked you to teach him the disillusionment charm one day, and you promised you would. 

While the rest of his family was a piece of work, you thought Regulus had come out as nice as Sirius, even if a little more stuck up. You didn’t mind though, it was part of his own charm. He’d make a great brother-in-law…

“And then Solacis added the last ingredient of the potion, and it blew up on their faces…” he told you with a smile, mimicking the explosion with his own hands. The alcohol had warmed his cheeks and made him a lot more expressive by now. You laughed along with him. 

“Yeah? And what did Slughorn do?” 

“Nothing, he was being distracted by Nox so they wouldn’t fail the both of us,” he explained. “Nox added dragon breath to his potion and it clogged the entire classroom with purple smoke.” 

“For real?” 

He nodded excitedly, it was nice to see Regulus more relaxed, “Nox thought it was amazing and tried switching the ingredients around, he now knows how to make smoke of almost any colour, we’ve used it on parties so many times since then.” 

“I had no idea Nox was that into potions…” 

“Oh, he loves them! Slughorn doesn’t like him too much though, he’s always doing his own experiments in the back of the classroom instead of focusing on the class, and often ends up changing the potions around and–” a harrowing scream cut through his words. 

Your head snapped towards the inside and Regulus blinked a couple of times. His spell! It had worn out. 

But I’m not that drunk, he thought, he was certainly having fun, but that was just a consequence of hanging out with you.

“What the hell was that?” you asked as you looked inside, but he stood in between you and the door in a second.

You gave Regulus a stern look but he shook his head really fast, he looked nervous, like a kid that had done something terrible and didn’t want his parents to find out. 

“Regulus,” you said as you tried to look over his shoulder, but he moved to block your sight again. “Regulus, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing. You… you don’t want to know, just trust me.” It was more a plea than anything else. 

You took a step back, “Have you been distracting me?”  

Regulus swallowed and then nodded, “I’m sorry.” 

“Why?” You asked, voice dry. 

“I don’t want you to see what’s happening in there.” 

“And…” 

“Your mum might have implied I’d be better this way as well.” 

You nodded, you weren’t angry at Regulus, at this point you understood why he did most of the things he did, and you knew whatever he was doing now, it was because he wanted to protect you from his parents and whatever it was they were doing. 

“Will you tell me what’s happening inside?” 

“Will you promise not to enter if I do?” 

You sighed, “You know I cannot do that, Reg.” 

“It’s dangerous.” 

“Yeah?! For me or for the person screaming?” 

“If you do anything reckless–” 

You squared your shoulders, determined. “Regulus, let me in.” 

He didn’t move. You tried to move to the side and he moved along with you, effectively blocking your way again, you scoffed, slightly exasperated. 

“Regulus, I–” You were interrupted by another harrowing screaming, and then a silence so eerie it chilled your very bones. You looked at him, straight in the eyes, his eyes were red-rimmed and shiny, you were about to ask him what the hell was going on when a cheer erupted from the inside. All of the wizards were clapping, as if whatever had happened was cause for celebration. 

Regulus winced at that which only made you worry more about what was happening inside. 

“You don’t need to see that, trust me,” he repeated. Thunder came from above and then a smokey green skull appeared in the sky. There was a snake protruding from its mouth, slowly swirling around the skull. You swallowed, you knew exactly what that was, Seraphina had shown you pictures, and she had told you that one of the reasons they’d cast that spell was because… they had just murdered a muggle. 

You swallowed thickly, the scream, the silence, the cheering. It all made sense now. They had been tоrturing someone and you had been distracted, you weren’t even given the chance to stop it. But then again, could you have stopped it? One person –nay, a 6th year– against an entire army of deatheaters, you might have been a good duelist, but you weren’t narcissistic enough to believe you could take them all down by yourself

Perhaps it really was better to be out here, avoiding the reality that was inside and hanging out with the one person in this entire party that you’d actually want to talk to. You didn’t appreciate being tricked, you hated that Regulus had decided to keep you in the dark, but at the same time, you were thankful. He had spared you from having to witness whatever horrors were being committed inside. 

You were just a kid, why was it your responsibility to stop it? Why was it your war to fight? It was fucking unfair. 

“Trust me,” Regulus said, “stay here, it’s better this way.” 

You swallowed, and there was another scream, you shut your eyes and turned your gaze to the side, you could feel tears prickling in your eyes. 

“It’s not your fault, you won’t be able to do anything, even if you witness it.” 

You turned back to look at him, your teeth pressed so hard against each other it hurt, “They’re kiIling muggles,” you whispered. 

Regulus sighed, his eyes were just as glassy as yours, “We can’t do anything about it.” 

You huffed and looked at nowhere in particular. There was another scream, and then another one, and then there was silence and cheers. You sank down to the floor, the snake in the sky was still crawling around. Your breath was slow and controlled as if you were trying to keep it together. The first scream, you couldn’t have blamed yourself for it. The first one out? You had no idea. But this one? 

You already knew what was happening and chose to stay outside with Regulus. You chose to ignore it and an innocent had diеd. Were you any different from your father now? He had sacrificed Sirius and Regulus for his political means –and he hadn’t even gotten them kiIled– and now you were letting those innocent people diе. 

For what? To be the perfect daughter? To play the part they asked you to play and then pretend like nothing had happened? To write a letter to Nightshade and Dumbledore telling them everything that had happened tonight and becoming a valuable asset? A spy? Was that what you wanted to be? Was that what you were meant to do? Was it worth it to let all these people diе, in order to win the war in the future? Were lives exchangeable like that? One life for a hundred, does that… make it worth it? 

There was another harrowing scream and then silence and then more cheers. You dug your head on your knees. 

You

Were

Heinous

As much as you considered your father to be.

Was stopping a war, winning a war, any different from the way he coveted power? Was it any difference in doing things for the greater good to doing things for power if the casualties were exactly the same? People were dying, and you were too much of a coward to do anything about it. Hiding behind a mask of righteousness and pretending it was all for the greater good –It was, but it didn’t feel right.

Sacrificing innocents was never okay, not even for the greater good, and yet… you were here, crouching on the floor, and wishing you were somewhere else, wishing you hadn’t heard that first scream, and that Regulus was still telling you about Nox and how good he was in potions and so on. You wanted to feel like things were normal, like there wasn’t a war; like you were a normal teen, not one being trained to be a soldier, a spy, a warrior.  

Was it selfish to wish for all of this to go away? To wish to be elsewhere? Were you selfish? And if you were then, for what? 

For letting innocents diе or for wishing you were ignorant about it? 

There it was, the eerie silence again. And then a wicked laugh. “Would you look at that? the little witch has claws?” 

The what she said?

 You turned your head to Regulus and the look he gave you in return made you instantly know that whatever was going on inside was as much of a surprise to him as it was to you. 

“Reg wha– What does she mean by witch?” 

“I–” he stuttered and turned to look back, there wasn’t much he could see, except for Bella’s black hair bouncing around as she said something else. “I’m not sure but–” 

“Filthy mudblood!” the same voice roared and then there were screams. 

But there was something about those screams, they were different from the rest… And not because it was a witch but because… you gasped when the realisation hit you –you knew that person.

“Nina,” you whispered. 

“What?” Regulus asked, confused. 

“That’s Nina!” you repeated as you stood up and tried to get inside. 

Regulus squared his shoulders to block your path, and then gently placed his hand on your arm, “There’s nothing you can do, forget it.” 

“They have kilIed muggles, Regulus. What’s stopping them from doing the same thing to her?” 

Regulus shook his head, “You cannot intervene, even if you know her.” 

“Even if I– Regulus, Nina’s my friend! Like you, like James! I would intervene for you, even if it did nothing.” 

“It would be stupid,” he replied, there were tears in his eyes, you could tell his mental struggle ran as deep as yours.  

“If it were me, would you just wait and let me diе?” 

Regulus closed his mouth, looking down while not being able to give you an answer. You weren’t sure you wanted to hear it either way. 

“Let me through, please.” 

“I wouldn’t let you diе,” he said, panic filling his voice, he felt like he had to reassure you, he wasn’t the evil one here, he just wanted to protect you. “But I’ve known you for years, you’re my brother’s girlfriend, it’s different,” his voice was filled with panic. 

“It’s not different for me,” you said as you shook your head, a sombre tone adorning your words. 

“I can’t let you go in,” he replied, his voice breaking towards the end. “I’m sorry.” 

You pulled him into a hug, you could sense him relax into your hug the second you did. She understands, he thought. 

 “I’m sorry too,” you whispered with a sad smile, he didn’t have enough time to react, “Petrificus totalus.” 

You caught him as he fell, his entire body leaning onto yours as you tried to hold him from hitting the ground. Regulus was a lot heavier than he looked but you managed to open the door again and drag him back inside. You smiled awkwardly at the person who spotted the two of you and lifted the bottle as an excuse. If they thought Reggie was passed out drunk, they wouldn’t think you’d charmed him to get in. The person nodded as if completely understanding and you dragged Reggie to a chair. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, accommodating him to look asleep. 

And then you walked as fast as you could towards her screams. 

It took all your strength not to break down at the sight, there were people –not people, their bodies– on the floor. They weren’t covered with bIood or anything like that, it wasn’t gory, it was just… harrowing. At least 7 of them, all of them on the floor, horrified expressions on their faces. They probably had no idea why they were there and had been hexed and tоrtured till the light escaped his eyes.

The scene enraptured you so much the screams in the background almost faded out, especially when you saw someone you instantly recognized. The lady at Kings Cross, the one that had hugged Nina, she was there too, you sobbed. You had allowed that to happen, you had allowed them to kilI Nina’s mum because you were too scared to intervene. 

“Crucio!” you heard the woman scream again. 

You turned your face away from them and towards the turmoil, there were many people crowding around her and Nina, so many that you could barely see the top of her blonde hair, and the only reason you knew Nina was still there was because of her screams. You spotted Tom, Arkalis and the man you now knew as Rodolphus Lestrange all sitting and chatting at a faraway table as if none of it was happening. Tom would often turn to see what was going on, smile and then go back to the conversation with a pleased expression.  

You shuddered and tried to find a way through the people. You had to push a few wizards around and got an angry elbow shoved in the rib at some point but you pressed on. Eventually, you reached the edge of the circle, and you had to hold back the tears threatening to spill out as your young friend squirmed, her long hair sprawled all over the floor, and tears in her eyes. She had her mouth determinedly closed and her brows furrowed, she was trying to resist screaming again, all to avoid giving the woman the satisfaction. 

“I’ll find a way to help you,” you mumbled as you looked around for possible solutions. If you had had more time perhaps you could have used a mist bomb to create a commotion, if you had more time to think of a solution, perhaps you would have burned the curtains down with incendio or caused some other kind of distraction to drive people away from Nina and sneak her out. But you had no time, and your mind was filled with the stress of seeing poor Nina on the floor, with that heart-wrenching expression on her face, and the soft whimpers that she couldn’t help but let out as she continued holding her cries and the woman with curly hair twisted her wand to inflict more pain. 

If you had acted earlier, if you hadn’t let fear and cowardice drive you away from the incident, perhaps things wouldn’t have ended up the way they had, but you had been selfish, and you were now facing the consequences of your own decisions, them being mainly the mental strain and the stupidity of the action you were about to commit. 

“CRUCIO!” the woman shrieked again. “Come on luv, don’t be shy, we want to hear your cries.” 

She twisted her wand and Nina let out an agonising cry. This can’t continue, she’s not gonna last. 

“Come on little mudblood, cry louder!” the woman said, enjoying herself so much you felt like you wanted to puke. “Entertain us!”

You stepped forward, “Stop!” You shouted. 

The woman turned to you and, surprised you had spoken and twisted her wand again, Nina cried, but the moment she spotted you, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 

You raised your wand at her, “I said STOP!” 

“Silas’ daughter?” she asked, clearly diverted. “Thought you were snogging my little cousin Regulus somewhere in a corner.” 

You held her gaze, “Last warning,” you added. 

She laughed haughtily in return, “You think you could do anything to me? What are you? A 4th year?”

You were so focused on the woman and Nina, that you weren’t paying attention to the things surrounding you, at least you had gotten her attention enough to have her stop torturing Nina, who was now struggling to catch her breath. 

In the far corner, Orion and Tom had turned to look at the scene with a perturbing interest, as if they wanted to see the bIoodshed that your stupid disobedience would cause. Evan had gripped onto Barty’s forearm and pulled him away from the circle and both of your parents were rushing towards you as fast as you could, but the crowd, which seemed just as interested in the situation, was making it harder for them to reach you. 

“None of your fucking business,” you replied. She turned her wand back to Nina and you stepped in her way in two long strides, she laughed again. 

“You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you? There’s no way a Slytherin would be so recklessly stupid.” 

“Let her go,” you said sternly. “She’s a witch, just like you.” 

The woman laughed again. “She’s as much of a witch as the rest of them,” she said with a smile and pointed at the pile of bodies behind her, “Muggle-borns are abominations that shouldn’t exist. So weak they need real wizards to defend them, don’t they, Luv?” She said the last bit looking at Nina, she was still on the ground, eyes shiny with unshed tears but she held her head high. 

“I’m only making things even,” you replied, “do you really feel superior when you need thirty-plus wizards for torturing a 14-year-old?” 

The woman scoffed, “Do you even know who you’re talking to?” 

“No, but I bet I can guess,” you replied. “Dark curly hair, pretty but dеadly, a little crazy –I assume due to inbreeding– and you were sitting next to Rodolphus, which makes you one of Cygnus’ daughters. I met Narcissa today, and you’re definitely not Andromeda, which leaves out… Saiph? No wait, wrong star, it’s Bella, isn’t it?” 

She gave you a deranged smile, “Bellatrix.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you responded. “Now let’s leave this nonsense behind, and–” 

“Crucio,” she said pointing her wand behind you, Nina cried again. 

“Stop!” you shrieked. “Confringo!”

Bella barely managed to stop your spell and turned to you with rage, “Can someone take care of her?” she asked to no one in particular. Suddenly there were several wands pointing your way, but no one cast a spell. No one was brave enough to attack Silas’ daughter directly. 

Bella smiled and pointed her wand towards you, “Expelliarmus,” she said with a smile, your wand left your hand faster than you could react. 

She gave you a wicked grin as she pointed her wand at Nina again. She looked like she couldn’t take another moment of it, and you were running out of ideas. “Stop! I have a better prey for you.” 

Your father said your name sternly as if he could read your thoughts. 

You ignored it completely, “Why bother with a muggle-born when you could be torturing someone who’s mixed-race.” 

Your father screamed your name again, but Bella seemed interested enough to lower her wand and look at you, she wanted to know whose life you’d propose instead of Nina’s. 

“A mixed-race you said? Whoever could that be?” 

“Me!” you said and took a short breath, “I’m part-fairy.” Several gasps echoed in the room followed by whispers of the crowd.

“She’s lying!” your father spat.

“I am not!” You added quickly. 

“She’s trying to buy time.” 

“I can prove it!” you said desperately. “Use diffindo,” you told one of the people next to you. 

“Do not dare to touch my daughter!” your father roared. 

You looked around, trying to find Barty or Evan, since you knew neither of them would think twice before hurting you, but they were nowhere to be seen. Worst time to be fucking absent, you thought. No one dared to do it. 

“Fine then, bunch of cowards,” you said looking around before bringing your arm to your mouth. You had never done this, but you had practised half transfigurations, you focused all your energy on your mouth and managed to turn your canines into Vixen’s, and then you bit onto your skin and dragged your arm, slicing through it, you didn’t even wince. 

“That proves nothing,” Your father said. He was still trying to reach where you were.

“No, it doesn’t,” you responded. You could feel the metallic taste of your bIood in your mouth, you wondered if you looked as deranged as Bella did now. “But this will,” you said and focused your gaze on the cut you’d made, “Revelio.” 

A single drop of bIood fell from your arm, everyone witnessed it change colour and clash onto the ground in a shiny, silver drop. There was another collective gasp. Bellatrix cackled and your father looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a mix of desperation, rage and disappointment.

“Well, well, well,” a voice boomed from the back of the room, “what an interesting little plot twist.” The crowd parted to allow the dark lord to walk towards the centre of the room, he seemed pleasantly entertained. “Silas,” he said as he turned to your dad calmly. “Anything you care to explain?” 

You turned to your father, being thankful that everyone’s attention had turned the other way, and looking for someone distracted enough for you to do your next move. 

Your father was about to say something but was quickly interrupted by your mother, “He didn’t know! I lied to him.” 

Your head snapped back towards them, Why is she–? 

“Is that true? Silas?” 

Your father stood straighter, looking indifferent. “I had no idea,” he lied blatantly, “I wouldn’t be married if I did.”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit–” 

“Silence child,” you were interrupted by the dark lord who was staring at your dad with interest, he hadn’t said the words to the spell, but your tongue was tied, and you couldn’t emit a word anymore either, “the adults are talking.” 

You moved towards them when you realised you wouldn’t be able to speak. “Incarcerus,” Tom’s voice boomed and a set of ropes appeared from thin air, binding you to the spot you were currently on. His spell was much stronger than Evan’s had been, it was as if the more you moved the more the ropes tightened around your arms, digging into your skin sharply. Tom turned to your mother. “Elaborate.” 

“I met him, I knew he wouldn’t like me if he knew of my heritage so I lied and hid it from him.” 

“Well, I find this is the perfect little set-up for you to prove your loyalty,” Tom said with a simple smile. “Torture her.” 

What? You thought, head snapping towards your mother sharply, forgetting about the ropes entirely. 

Your mother and father exchanged a look, your mom nodded, almost imperceptibly, and then your father raised his wand against her, “Crucio.” 

There was a wicked laugh from Bellatrix as your mother sank to the ground and started screaming. You stared at the scene as if petrified. If there was something you had never doubted in the past, it was the love your parents had for each other. How could he– how was it even…

You turned back to the ropes and started to desperately fight against them. When you realised it wasn’t working you went for plan B, you turned into Vixen and jumped as fast as possible, snatching a random wizard’s wand from their hands as you turned back. 

Of all the terrible ideas you’d had today, this might have been the worst. You barely had enough control over the spell with your own wand, but you had to do something. You took a deep breath and pointed your wand at Bellatrix, “Pestis Incendium.” 

A giant fire exploded out of the tip of the wand you had stolen, prompting the people around you to step back several metres as the fire turned into a massive Chimera. Fiendfyre was a dark and dangerous spell, and you had only practised it in a controlled environment with Nightshade watching your back. But the Chimera you had formed now was bigger and angrier than anything you’d ever created, she was dеadly. The massive winged lion-goat was burning everything in its way as people ran to the sides and attempted to apparate the hell away from the room. 

But Evan’s house was charmed against apparitions, a few of them were caught in the fire as they attempted to run, others tried to fight against it, with water spells, but they seemed to do nothing against the angry beast you’d created. The heat quickly filled the room, smoke from burning things wafting through the air and making it harder to see. You searched for your mother, but you couldn’t spot her at all, so you turned back to Nina who was looking at you with an awed struck expression. You picked up a wand from the floor and handed it over to her before helping her up and casting a disillusionment charm around the two of you. 

“We need to get out,” you whispered, as you grabbed onto her hand and pulled her along with you. You sped through the running crowds as the curtains and furniture started to catch on fire and remembered you had left Regulus petrified. 

You ran towards him, pulling Nina alongside you and finding him still unconscious in the place you’d left him. “Finite Incantatem!” you said and Regulus opened his eyes hastily. He looked around confused and opened his eyes wide when he spotted the giant Chimera behind you, being even more confused when it completely ignored him and turned to the other side. You grabbed onto his arm, leaving traces of bIood over his white shirt, “Get out!” 

“What?” he asked, confused. 

“I won’t be able to control it for much longer, get out!” you repeated and pushed him towards the window before you pulled Nina to the side again. 

She used her wand and started hexing people as you sped through the crowd and toward the window behind the snack area. If you could reach the hedge maze, you’d have enough time to think of a better way to get the hell away from there. 

Finally, you spotted your mum again, she was right in front of the Chimera, using relashio in an attempt to slow her down. You raised your want towards your fiendfyre to drag it away from her but there was a spell cast in your direction. 

“Stupefy!” Bellatrix said as you fell to the ground, you lost control over the Chimera completely and the beast used one of its paws to crush your mother. You could hear your father’s scream ringing in your ears alongside yours, followed by a sob as tears welled up in your eyes. Bellatrix smiled, “Well, well, well, would you look at that, one little fae gone, and one to go,” she said as she pointed her wand towards you. 

You were on the floor, still trying to get a grasp of the situation and attempting to gain control over the Chimera again but it was pointless, she was doing whatever she wanted. Bellatrix smiled and raised her wand towards you, “Avada–” 

“Crucio,” Nina shrieked next to you, and Bellatrix instantly fell to the ground, with a cry. Nina’s curse was so strong that the woman continued to scream madly as she pulled onto her hair. “CRUCIO!” Nina repeated. You looked at her in amazement and she gave you a half smile, fear hidden behind her eyes. “She’s not going to touch you ever again,” she reassured and extended her hand your way, you took it and she helped you up. “Ferrum Incarcerus,” she said and suddenly a set of chains bound Bellatrix Lestrange, “Flagrante,” she said next and the woman started to cry in pain as the chains started to heat up and burn. “Call me a Mudblood again, you bitch!” Nina spat, and you recast the disillusionment charm around the both of you. 

Clutching to each other you walked all the way to the snack table “Bombarda!” you shouted, the window blew into pieces, and your Chimera went wild, growing wider and wider. You looked back once more, Bellatrix was still crying over the chains. There was a tall man, Cygnus, you assumed, trying to help her out of them, but Nina’s spell was strong and whatever he was doing wasn’t working properly. 

You spotted your father clutching the burned remnants of your mom and you stared at the scene almost petrified. You had done that, you had murdered her. 

Nina looked at you with tears in her eyes and decided to avoid staring at the pile where she knew her mother’s body would be, focusing on you, and on getting the hell away from that damned hellhole you’d ended up in. 

“Come on,” she pulled onto your arm. “We have to go, come on!” 

“That–” you said, still looking, the Chimera was bigger now, angrier. “They’re gone.” 

“I know,” she said somberly, but then the urgency came back to her, “Come on, they’d want us to get out!” she added as she pulled onto your arm again, this time much stronger, you didn’t move at all. “Hey, look at me!” she added and grabbed your head in between her hands to force you to look at her, Nina might have been younger, but she seemed so much wiser than you at that moment. “This is awful. Things are awful, and it’s unfair. But two things are true: It was not your fault, and we need to get out.” 

You tilted your head to the side, she didn’t know, she didn’t know you had ignored her mother’s cries. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, what a terrible person you were. “Okay,” you managed to say and allowed Nina to pull you alongside her and both of you managed to exit through the window. 

The cold was the first thing you noticed, white snow melting into puddles close to the house due to the fire. Messy mud on the floor making the pristine white layer of snow look brown and messy.

There were already Wizards outside, Regulus stood next to his mother and Narcissa, who kept looking inside as if waiting for someone to come out as well. Reggie too was looking around nervously, the last time he saw you, you were still inside and things were chaos. 

You took a small stone and threw it towards him, when he turned around you said “Vermillious,” and from the tip of the wand you had stolen, faint red sparks appeared. People weren’t looking your way, and they had been so faint that they were nothing in comparison to the amount of light that came from your blazing Fiendfyre, but you saw Regulus smile and nod your way. You turned to Nina, somehow much more composed than seconds ago. “You like puzzles, don’t you?” you asked her as you nodded towards the hedge maze. 

She smiled and gave you a nod, “Let’s get out of here,” she added, and the two of you walked inside. You ran through the maze, staying as close to each other as possible, and jumping from dеad end to dеad end. It truly was a headache, but Nina was as determined to get out as you were, so you followed her lead and continued walking behind her. 

“We can’t be too far from the way out, the magic stopping us from apparating is losing power the deeper we go, can you feel it?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a smile, and end to the nightmare, finally. 

“You can apparate already, right?” 

“Kind of,” you replied. “I mean, yes,” you reassured, you’d figure out a way, you’d both get out, you had to.

“Finite incantatem,” someone said when you rounded a corner, and both you and Nina raised your wands against him.

“Would you look at that, charming little butterfly and her mudblood friend,” The man said with a wicked smile, his silver hair flowing behind him. “You really thought you’d get away after causing so much havoc? My fiancé’s father is dеad because of your little ruse.” 

“Obscuro,” you spat, ignoring his remark and going straight for defence.

“Protego,” he returned. “Stupefy!” 

You blocked his spell with practised ease. “Nina behind me!” you said with determination, “Depulso!” 

He blocked as well, “Confringo!” 

You ducked and pulled Nina alongside you to the ground. His spell went straight to one of the hedges and things started to heat up, quite literally. The snow surrounding the area behind you melted and mixed with the dirt beneath, making mud similar to the one just outside the house. 

Lucius taunted and attacked with increasing ferocity, while you fought desperately to defend both yourself and Nina. Spells flew back and forth, lighting up the night with bursts of magic. With each passing moment, the intensity of the duel escalated, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. 

There was constant shouting and blocking. The more time passed and the more time you stood your ground against the man, the angrier he seemed to become. And you were tired, the amount of magic you had used up to conjure the Fiendfyre and the fact that she was still distracting and burning things back at the house, even if out of your control, was draining your energy –and magic– at worrying speeds. 

Combining that with the charred image of your mother that you desperately tried to bury in the back of your mind, you felt closer and closer to losing your grip and concentration, but you refused to give in, if there was something that you were, even in cases of life and dеath, was stubborn. 

“Getting tired, butterfly?” he asked with a cocky smile when he noticed you had almost tripped on a spell. 

“Opugno!” you responded, ignoring his taunting. Suddenly the branches of the hedges seemed to come alive as they went straight to get him.

“Deprimo!” he shouted before the spell hit him, and the floor started to shake, both you and Nina managed to step out of the way, on time, but the hole in the ground had now trapped the two of you in a dеad end. 

“Reparo!” you shouted, your previous spell had been strong enough to distract him while you attempted to build the ground back up so you could continue. 

“Impedimenta!” he shouted, and you were locked in place. When did he even get out of the hedges?

You tried to focus on shaking the charm off while he pointed his wand at you again. You were tired, but you had fought against Nightshade’s impedimenta several times before, and Lucius’ curse was much weaker. Despite that, the amount of magic you had already used had debilitated you and it seemed to require even more concentration than it had done in the past. That didn’t make it impossible. 

You were just getting a grip on the knot of magic that seemed to lock you in place when Lucius smiled, still bound by the hedges but gloating at the way you struggled. 

“Stupefy Maxima!” he shouted. You braced yourself to receive the spell, but instead, you felt a push from the side and ended up cornered against one of the hedges as Nina fell to the ground right in front of you. 

“Nina!” you shouted and dropped to the ground next to her in an instant, then you saw another spell leave his wand. You stared at the red bolt coming straight at you with watery eyes, thinking of all the things you wouldn’t be able to do, of all the things Nina wouldn’t be able to do because you had failed to save her. Anger and sorrow filled your thoughts as you stared at dеath straight in the eyes. 

But she didn’t stare back.

Instead, there was a bright, blinding light that lasted no more than half a second, and Lucius was thrown back against one of the hedges. It was as if his wand had backfired the spell on him. You stared at the scene confused, your bafflement increasing only when you spotted Barty Crouch shooting a stunning spell in Lucius’ direction. 

You turned back to Nina as the two of them fought the other, “Nina,” you said softly as you placed your hands around her face, her cheeks were cold but there was something gooey and warm behind her hair. As you pulled your hand back to look at it better you realised what it was. You shook your head and as you stared. “No, no, no, no...” you repeated over and over again as you leaned down only to realise she had fallen onto a sharp rock. “No, no… Nina, look at me,” you said, voice wavering. 

Her weary gaze turned to you, her eyelids were heavy and tired, but she smiled faintly when she saw you. “You’re okay,” she sighed. 

“No, no, no,” you repeated, tears already blurring your sight as you stared at her. 

“Go!” she said softly, reassuringly. 

“No!” you said again, voice cracking near the end. 

She nodded soothingly, “It’s okay, you have to go.” 

“Nina, please!” you begged. “We can do something, we can find a way to–” 

“Go,” she interrupted you calmly, more secure now. “You’re all right,” she said and smiled, “I can go happy knowing you’ll be alright.” 

“You can’t! I won’t leave, not without you,” you replied stubbornly, shaking your head as you said it.

“You can’t stop her now, the bargain’s made, the deal’s done,” she said simply. 

“No, please,” you said as you leaned onto her chest and allowed the tears to stream down your face, the girl somehow managed to place her hand over your hair and played with some of the strands with the little strength she had left. 

“You know… I’ve been bles-sed,” she said, her breath caught in her throat. “Blessed that you were the last thing I got to see,” she added with a smile, “thank you for saving me.” 

You felt her hand go limp over your head and you heard the last beat of her heart boom against your ear. “No!” you cried and stood back up to look at her. She had a pleased and peaceful expression on her face, contrasting completely with her stained blonde hair, and the rapidly changing colour of snow, no longer white, but scarlet. “Rennervate,” you said pointing the wand at her. Nothing. “Rennervate,” you repeated, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Rennervate, Rennervate, Rennervate.” 

“Stop it!” you heard Barty say from behind you. 

“Rennervate!” you said again, completely disregarding the boy. 

“Hey! You need to get out of here, people are coming.” 

“I don’t care!” You snapped. And turned back “RENNERVATE!” 

“You’re going to diе too! Her sacrifice would be for nothing!” 

“Go to hell!” You responded. You felt him trying to pull you away from her. “Get your filthy hands off me!” 

“Re- rennervate,” you repeated, it was more a whisper than anything else, a desperate cry, a futile attempt to cling onto something that wasn’t there anymore, that wouldn’t be there no matter what you did. Perhaps you had used up your magic, it was a stunning spell, not a kiIling curse. 

But it had also been the fall, and the rock.  

“Listen to me!” Barty said as he hauled you up by pushing you against one of the hedges. “She’s gone, and if you don’t move, you’ll be the same! Your stupid spell will do nothing to bring her back!”

“She’s my friend!” you shouted angrily as you tried to pry his hands away from your arms. But Barty was still stronger than you. “She’s my friend, and she’s struggling because of me. I won’t give up on her!” 

“THERE IS NOTHING TO GIVE UP ON! SHE’S FUCKING DЕAD!” 

Rage filled your gaze as you managed to focus on him again, you tried to push him off of you again, this time with much more determination. When he realised, he smiled and loosened his grip. 

“What?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Wrath is more useful than desperation,” he retorted. “You need to get out of here.” 

You gave one last look at Nina, her pleased expression made her look as if she was sleeping, soft and simple and happy. Could you trick your brain into thinking she was just sleeping if you tried hard enough? 

You turned back to Barty wearily, “Why– why are you helping me?” you asked with a wavering voice, emotions raw and unfiltered at this point. 

“Evan told me what you did for him. He’s taking care of Lucius and I’m much better at apparating than him.” 

You swallowed, distrusting, and turned to the side, Evan was indeed in the distance, performing some kind of spell on the man that had murdered Nina. Your mind was spinning with conflicting emotions. You wanted to lash out, to scream and rage against the unfairness of it all. But there was no use, Nina was dеad and no matter how much you cried about it, you wouldn’t bring her back.

“Look! If it makes you feel better you can hit me–” His words were cut short as your fist connected to his face. “Fuck! I’m trying to help you!” he winced as he reached for his nose. Your fist stung, but clearly, his face did just as much. 

“You’ve been an asshole to me for months.” 

“And I’m trying to do a good deed, bIoody hell!” he replied with a frown, you glared in return. “Come on, we need to get out.” 

“I don’t want to!” You said in a stubborn whisper, you wanted to lean against her and cry until the snow covered both of your bodies and you could forget about it all. 

“But she wanted you to,” he replied, there was bIood streaming down his nose, but there was an honesty in his gaze that you didn’t think Barty was capable of. “Allow me to help make her last wish true.” 

You swallowed, giving the boy one more weary look, “Can you try?” 

“Try?” he asked, confused. He was trying.  

“To save her.” 

“It’s pointless, if you couldn’t do it–” 

“My magic’s weak,” you admitted, despite yourself, it didn’t matter anymore, you didn’t care if Barty or Evan used it against you as long as Nina came back. 

The boy sighed, clearly thinking it was pointless, but leaned down next to Nina either way “Rennervate!” he said steadily.

Seconds passed by, agonisingly slow but nothing happened.

You let out a defeated breath, your mind was suddenly empty. You realised if you didn’t want to end up like her, you’d have to pull yourself together somehow. Barty tried again, even if you didn’t ask him, but the result was the same. You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fine, let’s get out,” you said with a nod. Barty stood up and you tighten your grip around the wand you were holding, taking in a deep breath before pointing it at Nina. “Papilioscorpus,” you said, focusing all of your attention on that one spell.

Suddenly Nina’s body transformed into a heap of small blue butterflies. You held back the sob that threatened to escape by sucking in a breath as the small creatures broke off Nina’s body, one by one until there was no more of her, but hundreds of them. 

How unfair it was, that Nina had to diе because she wasn’t a pureblood, you thought, even if Nina would disagree. She didn’t diе because she wasn’t a pureblood wizard, she didn’t diе because they tortured her to dеath, she didn’t diе weak and defenceless and in despair, you had spared her from that fate. No, Nina diеd to save you, and she was pleased with the choice she’d made, simply because she wouldn’t want to live in a world where you didn’t exist. 

They flew up, circling you for a second before continuing their path, way above the hedges, and leaving behind the bIoodstained snow in search of somewhere warm. 

Barty turned to you with a soft expression and then raised his wand to the butterflies, “Irascor,” he said simply. A protective charm, so they would be safe, even if Nina hadn’t been. 

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, as you saw them leave, not allowing yourself to wallow in the hopelessness you felt at such a stunningly beautiful sight. The snow-covered landscape, the stars shining above in the sky, the small snowflakes falling softly on the ground, all contrasted deeply with how you felt, how broken and in pain you were. You blinked back the tears and turned back to him. 

He nodded and cocked his head to the side, indicating you to follow him. It was slow at first, steps into a different direction, away from the bIood, now being covered by a fresh layer of snow, away from Evan and unconscious Lucius. 

Eventually, Barty started to pick up speed and you matched his pace, a welcome heat to the cold that had now chilled your bones. The dress you had, while long-sleeved, wasn’t exactly snow-friendly. Your heels long forgotten, left as you took faster and faster steps. The white cool of snow against your heels, helping you focus on anything other than all the previous events. 

Barty seemed to know exactly where he was going, and you followed him blindly. The traces of your steps had been long erased by the constant falling snow. If he was leading you to safety or back to the house, what difference did it make at this point? 

But then you felt it: the barriers against apparating were gone. “Where should I take you?” He asked softly, softer than you’d expect him to, the two of you breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. 

You blinked, looking around like a lost puppy. You had no mother, your father was a deatheater or something, and your home was probably not yours anymore –not that it had felt like one in the last few years. “I have nowhere to go,” you said the words as you realised their weight. 

Barty sighed, he knew what it was like to not belong. To feel lonely and forgotten and like he had to be outstanding to be cared for, to be worthy. He knew what it was to have no place to call home, but he had Evan now. He knew what that felt like, and for the first time since he’d met you, he empathised with you. “Sirius?” he offered, he might not like him, but he knew Sirius was as special to you as Evan was to him.

“He’s with the Potters, you cannot apparate there, you don’t know where it is… It would be too dangerous, for the both of us,” you said steadily, emotionlessly, trying to cling to your analytical side. If you blocked the emotions threatening to boil out of you, if you hid them so deep within your mind that they wouldn’t bother you then perhaps you’d be able to keep moving. 

“Secret hideout?” 

“I–” then you remembered. “School! Take me to Hogwarts!” 

“You can’t apparate there…” he said with a frown. Hogwarts was a brilliant idea though, it would certainly be safer.

“No, but, you can apparate on the Shrieking Shack! You’ve done it before.” 

“You want me to take you back, there?” he asked, disbelief laced in his tone.

“Yeah!” you said with a confident nod. 

“Are you… sure?” he asked again, perhaps the emotional toll of the night was getting to you. 

“Yes! I can get to the castle from there,” you repeated. 

He looked at you as if analysing the situation, you seemed pretty sure of yourself, so he nodded, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you closer, Barty was as tall as you, still growing, so you assumed he’d be taller. You ended up hugging each other in the most awkward way possible (a weird sort of hug where neither of you seemed to want to touch each other) before he apparated just outside the shack. 

You felt a sense of relief when you spotted the snow-coated building. You had made it this far, against all odds. But was it worth it? With how much it had cost? 

Barty gave you one last look, “Can I have the wand?” he asked in a relatively polite tone as he pointed to the wand in your hand. He was being considerate, even for his standards.

“Pardon?” You asked as your grip on the wand tightened. 

“I’m going to say I tried to stop you but you apparated away, you’re talented for your age so it’s believable enough. Evan is obliviating Lucius. We’ll try to get your actual wand back–” 

“Nina’s,” you said as you handed him the one in your hand. He frowned. “Get Nina’s wand, it’s more important.” 

“Why?” 

“I can buy another wand, but she… she can’t,” you said, trying not to let your features betray the emotions you felt. 

“But it’ll be useless to–” You gave him a mix between a pleading look and a glare, and he stopped his words, “we’ll try,” he conceded.

You smiled weakly, “Thanks.” He was about to leave. “Wait!” you stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, he turned to you, movements soft and calm, he knew you were on edge. “Priori incantatem, they will know you tried to bring Nina back if they check.” 

“Give me the wand,” you said and he did as told. “Now take it.” 

“Expelliarmus,” he said and the wand you had stolen flew from your hand to his, he caught it in the air with ease. It was surprising how fast he’d caught on to what you meant, but you already knew Barty was brilliant, even if he used said brilliance for evil deeds more often than not. 

“And now stun me.” 

“What? Are you daft? I’m trying to save you,” he protested with a frown.

“And this is my way of thanking you, you put up a fight against me. Stun me softly if you will–” 

“Stupefy!” 

Your body reeled back against the gate and ended up on the floor. It had been soft, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Either way, the physical pain was a welcome distraction from the grief that threatened to consume you whole. 

“Payback for punching me in the face,” Barty said with a smile as he offered his hand. He was joking. 

You scoffed and pushed his hand away, deciding that sitting on the snow was comfortable enough. “Get the hell out before I punch you again.” 

His smile only grew wider and he had the nerve to send you a wink before he apparated again. You stared at the empty space he’d left for a while, there was snow all around. Falling and falling in a stunningly, slumbery sort of way. So peaceful and quiet in comparison to how loud and hectic things had been just seconds ago. Even your heartbeat, which had been blasting against your ears, was slowing down. 

You stared at the cold white snow, and let your head fall back onto the gate as one of your hands fell on it, pulling some of it up and staring at the way it fell from your fingers lazily. You remembered playing in the snow with the boys, how happy you had been that day, you wondered if you could ever be that happy again. 

Ah… how tired did you feel, things were calm now, you weren’t in danger anymore, you sank deeper into the ground, adrenaline dissipating with ease and exhaustion washing over you in waves. You closed and opened your eyes wearily. 

The shack, why did you have to get to the shack? You wondered, everything was so peaceful where you were, you liked it, the cold of the snow soothingly numbing the pain, all the pain, not just the physical one. You let a faint smile coat your lips, who’s that in the distance? You wondered, it looked like someone you knew, but paler. Could it be… Nina? 

And then you closed your eyes. 

And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye…

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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[lowkeyrobin]

could you write something where walker scobell and reader like each other, are super obvious about it but also super oblivious when it comes to knowing each others feelings? (bonus points if the cast of percy jackson is involved and all know about their feelings for each other)! 🎀

aweeee oh my lord yes!!! stop this is so fucking cute wtffff 😭🙏 ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!!! ; ALSO!! this features a random oc because apparently no one from the older cast other than Charlie and Aryan can be normal so 🤞, oc is supposed to be like a bg character for one of Luke's friends in the show anyways!!! ; sorry this turned out so bad after you waited so long for it LMAO

WALKER SCOBELL ; oblivious

summary ; youre both oblivious to each other's feelings, and your costars need to help push you together

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; I mentioned some stores/brands that I'm pretty sure are zionist corps, so please don't go support them! this is just a fanfic, don't see this as advertisement bc these places kinda suck anyways. free palestine and do your daily clicks on arab.org

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist

"You're so stupid," Aryan sighs, walking next to you toward the mall entrance.

Leah and Walker walk ahead of you two, both talking about whatever they wanted to do while they were here. Charlie and Jordan walk behind you, acting as your parental gaurdians because apparently at ages 14-17, you weren't responsible enough to walk around a mall yourselves and needed a pair of 19 year olds by your side.

"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him, Aryan. Get it through your thick skull" You chuckle.

"Uh huh" He nods sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Walker and Leah quickly turn around, walking backwards. "Come on, we're going to Target!"

You and Aryan share a look and quickly chase after them, Charlie and Jordan walking behind all of you like uninterested parents.

You jog across the top floor of the mall and take the escalator down right in front of Target, heading for the interior doors. Leah, Walker, and Aryan head towards the children's toys aisles while you find yourself distracted in the music department. Charlie and Jordan walk around the store, just browsing while you younger teens do whatever. They weren't going to be responsible for any destruction.

You scan through the CDs, looking for anything you didn't have that you found interesting. You pick up a Conan Gray CD, one of his new album Found Heaven. You look to the left, seeing Walker quickly walking towards you, nearly walking into some lady's cart around a corner of one of the aisles.

"Hey." You chuckle, making it clear you saw him nearly get his hip busted by a middle-aged woman.

"Hi" The blonde smiles nervously, "What're you up to?"

You hold up the CD, "Browsing"

He nods, "I've never listened to him, should I?" He asks, beginning to flip through the CDs himself.

You look at him with slightly widened eyes. "Walker, how have you never listened to Conan Gray?..."

He shrugs, "I dunno"

"I'm forcing you to listen to him in the car."

"Okay, okay"

You continue looking through the CDs, seeing if they had anything else to your interest. For a split second, your shoulder brushes against his, considering you were standing so close.

You keep quiet, feeling your face heat up a bit. He feels the same way, unbeknownst to you. You nervously glance at each other, milliseconds apart so you never saw the opposite look.

"Walker, we found water guns!"

"They're so awesome, I could literally just stare at them all day while they talk about their favorite movie" The curly haired blonde smiles, slowly strolling down the lower half of the mall with Aryan and Leah at his side. "I don't think I've ever smiled and laughed so much than when I'm with them, seriously. Everything about them is so amazing, like, I could marry them here and now"

"And you said you don't have a crush on them," Leah states sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "You're something else"

"I don't have a crush on them!" Walker exclaims, the plastic bag in his hand slinging back and forth as he walked, spinning it around his fingers. "I was just describing what I like about them, yeesh"

The two look at him with similar expressions.

"You have a crush on them. Accept it, dude." Aryan sighs, patting Walker on the shoulder. "I'm like, 99% sure they feel the same way as well"

"Shut up!"

"Walker!"

"Quiet!"

You instantly connect the disembodied voice to your familiar blonde friend, having been grabbing a pretzel with Jordan and Charlie. You were stealing their money for food since you'd spent fifty dollars on CDs, plus an extra one for Walker. Thank God Charlie knew who his favorite band was, you'd wanted to get him an actual gift before you left for home tomorrow.

Jordan and Charlie sat down at one of the tables next to the big escalator in the middle of the mall, in clear earshot of the trio who just walked out of Bath and Body Works. They send a shared expression to Leah and Aryan, and they both nod back.

Walker doesn't notice, considering he was busy ranting about how he doesn't have a crush on you and was more focused on his body language and speaking with his hands then figuring out who or what his friends were looking at.

You walk to the table, get a look at the trio, their backs face towards you, and you hand Charlie and Jordan their food.

The two are oddly quiet as they munch down, which makes you question if they're conspiring against you. You ignore it, though, wanting to enjoy your pretzel while you had it.

Charlie and Jordan finally start conversation as you finish up your pretzel and soda, which you devoured. They were talking about some TV show they liked as you stood up, threw your garbage away, and headed toward the bathrooms. You leave the elder teens alone, walking down the dim side-hallway to the restrooms.

Charlie quickly pulls out his phone once your back was to them and calls Aryan. He was with Leah and Walker across the mall, where he and Leah had sneakily set Walker up to get you a little gift. The teens converse quietly and privately, not wanting their victims to hear.

"Yeah, he's inside with Leah, where's Y/n?"

"Restroom" Jordan answers, as they'd FaceTimed him. She pushes her dark hair away from her face as she speaks.

"Okay, where are you guys going next? We're going to Barnes and Noble back near you guys, on the top floor." Aryan informs

"Alright, we'll go fix my phone plan really quick and head over" Jordan nods, looking at Charlie for approval.

He nods as well, and quickly whispers bye as he hangs up. You walk back toward them with a light smile, asking where you were going next.

"We're gonna fuck around with my phone bill, and-"

"-Meet them at the food court!" Charlie finishes, trying to keep you and Walker apart for a moment. He sends a glance to Jordan, who pulls out her phone.

"Oh, okay" You shrug.

After joining Jordan to be a Karen to get her phone bill fixed, you three head up to the food court to meet up with Walker, Leah, and Aryan. As you sit down with them, they all make excuses to leave or go to different spots to get food. That leaves you and Walker at the table alone, both of you unable to start conversation.

You'd just eaten the biggest pretzel of your life, and it turns out he had a milkshake not too long ago. You both nervously smile at each other, biting your nails and fidgeting your fingers a bit. Aryan and Charlie watch from the Noodles and Company line, trying to see if you'd hand over your gifts for each other.

Right on queue, you decide to just give Walker the CD you'd gotten for him, not wanting to miss the sort-of-private opportunity to give it to him. You pull it out of the plastic bag that rests on the floor next to your feet. You hand it to him over the table, awaiting his reaction.

He quickly smiles and looks up at you. "Is that for me?"

"Duh"

He graciously accepts the gift, looking at it front and back over and over again. "How did you know I liked David Bowie?"

You shrug with a smug smile. "One, everyone likes Bowie, two, I know more about you than you think"

He playfully and lightly scoffs with a smile. "Thank you. Actually! That reminds me, I got you something too"

He reaches into the bag that sat next to him, and pulls out a few candy bars and bags, and slides them over the table for you. One of those is a lollipop shaped like a rose.

You smile and give him a warm thank you, laying your eyes on the Twizzlers for the most part.

"Y'know, I have a feeling I'm gonna like Conan Gray in the car"

"Oh, you will, trust me"

In the distance, Aryan and Charlie share looks.

"They're so head over heels for each other" Charlie sighs, "Can they just kiss already?"

Aryan nods, "We need to really push them together"

"How?"

"We'll ask Jordy and Leah"

"Sounds like a plan"

You and Walker sit side by side, smiles on your faces as you rest on the ledge of the fountain. You look back at all the silver and copper coins in the water, shimmering under the rippling water.

"And the whole thing exploded all over me! It was the dumbest thing ever"

You chuckle, listening to Walker talk about some science project exploding all over him in seventh grade.

"Y'know, you're like, really cool" He smiles, nervously glancing at Aryan.

You feel a smile tugging at your lips, "Oh, uhm, thank you. You're cool too, dude" You lightly punch his shoulder.

"No, like, cool cool" He clarifies.

You look over at your four friends, all wearing sunglasses, acting like they weren't spying on your conversation, on their phones or looking away nervously.

"Is this some kind of setup?"

"No!" He quickly replies, "I just, like, think you're really cool" He says, feeling too nervous to go out and ask the question or confess his feelings.

Leah groans and stands up, Aryan at her side.

"Just kiss already!" She says, throwing her hands in the air, "This show is too slow!"

"Kiss!" Aryan cheers, "Please! Do it already! It hurts to watch this anymore"

You look back at Walker, cheeks and ears as red as a stop sign.

Walker shrugs with a nervous look, which you share with him.

"Okay, well, I'm not kissing you on the ledge of a mall fountain"

"Yeah, I get that one"

#lowkeyrobin #gender neutral reader #gn reader #they/them reader #walker scobell x reader #walker scobell x gn reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson x reader #walker scobell

[beauregardlionett]

did i rant to my friends about dorian and orym just to be called a simp? yes i did. and i'll do it again.

these two characters? consume my waking thoughts. because just fucking think about this from a timeline/literary point of view for a second with me.

orym lost his husband and his father-in-law (who he always calls dad because he didn't have a dad growing up) in a violent attack on his leader a while ago and whatever magic was used to kill them kept them dead - no reviving magic worked to bring them back. in the space of a single attack, he lost two of the most important people in his life, and now he's a widow who still mourns and loves in equal measure even while far from home trying to save the world. he loves even though he's scared of losing again.

dorian is a runaway heir to a title he never really wanted, a musician for himself, a charlatan hiding behind an easy smile, who has really only ever wanted to see the world in his own time and make real friends for once in his life. and he did that! all on his own! he was with the group at the beginning of the campaign but then they ran into his older brother who was in trouble and needed to lay low and dorian went with him, falling back on old instincts that family by blood comes first. he ran from the group and from the foundations he was building with them. because dorian has only ever run from the things that scare him. but now he's back, re-traced his frightened footsteps toward the daunting promise of tomorrow - not yet with the group, we're getting his side of the story first. and he even said it himself, that he ran from the group and now he's not sure why he did it, why he left, when he stands here now and realizes everything he wanted was already in front of him.

they have sending stones, a once a day chance to say something to each other in 25 words or less. they've been using them, keeping each other updated on where they are, that they're still alive, and kindling this flame even without dorian at the table, without even seeing each other, and liam has been carrying this torch alone for 78 episodes but damn it the flame is still lit regardless!

and orym always updates on their progress and location first, and with whatever words he has left he drops in a sentiment to remind dorian that they still care - that orym still cares. and orym is practical through and through, he's a strategist so he always always always uses his words wisely because he's so fucking limited by this spell but the last message he sent? he repeated himself, he admitted a weakness, he faltered.

he told dorian where they were. he asked if dorian could come their way. he admitted to struggling while his voice broke. he asked again but in a different way if dorian could come their way. he ended the message with the most heartbreaking "fuck, i miss you," i have ever heard in my life.

orym, the man who messaged dorian 52 episodes ago and said "glad you're not here, wish you were anyway." because they're constantly in danger, and he wouldn't wish that on dorian, but he still aches to have him near. orym, the man who confessed 13 episodes ago during a trial with his friends that he's lonely, that he misses dorian and sometimes he thinks it's okay and sometimes he doesn't - because he was married and is still mourning and how dare he have feelings for someone else? how dare he move on even when his husband would WANT him to be happy again? he indicated dorian was missed by everyone in three of his previous messages before the trial, before finally shifting to 'I, orym, me - it's me who misses you'.

and dorian, the one who replied to a message orym sent him with "stay steadfast, sending you fairer winds" in the most longing tone i have EVER heard. dorian, who kissed orym's forehead when they parted ways but that is the closest they have come to acknowledging whatever is between them. dorian, who has been to orym's home between exu and c3 and met orym's mom and knows about orym's husband.

when orym died 58 episodes ago, he went limp and the sending stone slipped out of his hand because he was trying to message dorian before he died, before he ran out of words and breath. before he was revived, there was a moment he stood in the beyond and saw his husband and he told orym "you're not done," and orym said "i really wish i could stay," and then his husband said "i'll still be here," and orym said, heartbroken, "oh, i miss you so bad."

he told dorian, "i've really missed you," and "fuck, i miss you." i miss you is orym's way of saying i love you.

they're so close. they are so close. and orym fully died 19 episodes after dorian left, but he was revived and then never told dorian via sending that happened. part of me wants dorian to find out and the other part hopes he never has to feel like he failed orym by leaving. because nothing could have changed that from happening, not even dorian.

they are so close to reuniting, orym has needed dorian back for WEEKS and he's so close. i'm begging them to hold on so they can hold each other again.

and, again, from a literary point of view, you know the wildest part about all of this?

none of it is scripted.

#cr #critical role #dorian storm #orym of the air ashari #dorym #writing #my writing #i guess???? idk simp rant or whatever #anyway. am i making a hell of a lot of assumptions about their dynamic? yes. #will i be stopping? n o p e #this ship hasn't sailed far but i'm clinging to the steering wheel regardless #i had to get this out of my brain so i could focus on finals

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (12)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven!

Notes and TW: Last chapter! Side stories will follow. Thank you for sticking with this series for so long! This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

7:30 P.M. DD/MM/YYYY

I thought I knew the truth for a while—that this world existed inside a story. That this was a world which revolved around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around me existed to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world was created for “(Y/N).”

I was Friend A. Friend A was never mentioned again after page two of that story.

It turns out that I was sort of wrong. This world is made for stories, from stories, and (Y/N) happened to be the main character at the time. Now that I’m the author, I made myself the main character.

You wrote “story” and “world” so much that they hardly look like real words anymore. The tip of your pen hovers over the first page of your journal. It’s your first time keeping one, and you aren’t certain how to proceed. What tone do you use? Should it be informal or professional? How long should each entry be? How detailed should you make it?

The trapdoor to the attic flips open. Floyd’s head pokes through it like a garden eel in the sand.

“Whatcha doin’ over there? Still lookin’ for that manuscript?”

You shake your head. The manuscript for (Y/N)’s story disappeared without a trace after your meeting with Hans. No matter how hard you searched, nothing turned up, so you could only assume he retrieved it.

“No use in looking for it. I’m starting on my journal.” The pen twirls in your hand. “I’m not really sure how I want to write it.”

He hoists himself up and saunters over to where you’re curled up at the window. He peers at your handwriting. Flippantly, he flops on the floor next to you and yawns.

“Who caaares. Write whatever ya feel like writin’. It’s not like the one before was any good.”

The previous author’s manuscript was riddled with inconsistencies, plot holes, and grammar mistakes. It wouldn’t be a massive problem. Hans would simply have to work harder to fill in the gaps.

“The previous one failed, though.”

“Then just don’t fail.” He grins up at you. “Easy, right?”

You pinch his nose, laughing when he swats at your hand.

“Easier said than done.” Despite that, his words ease the burden on your shoulders just a bit. You don’t need to overthink this. It’s your story, yours to tell however you’d like. “Thanks for the advice, though.”

“Sure, sure.” Your name rolls off his tongue dismissively. “You worry too much.”

You glance at him. “You’ve been calling me ‘Red Handfish’ recently, why’d you switch back to my name?”

The lamplight glints in Floyd’s eyes briefly, then he closes them. A lazy grin spreads on his lips.

“I was calling ya ‘Red Handfish’ ’cuz I was hopin’ you’d get your hands all red and bloody again.” A huff of air escapes him. “Shoulda been there when you beat up the security.”

“Typically, you’re supposed to not hope I’m beating up your men.”

“It’s fine. Not like Jade and I need much protectin’.” His voice quiets down to a mumble. “You’re enough for security or whatever.”

His voice trails off at the end. Soon, quiet snores fill the attic. Seeing that he isn’t planning on disrupting your writing, your attention returns to your journal. Following his advice might not be a bad idea.

My main priority was to break the curse on Mr. and Mrs. Leech. I thought I’d have to ask (Y/N) to reach out to Vil Schoenheit or write something in this journal, but it turns out I didn’t have to do anything. Hans went ahead and nudged the odds in my favour already. At least, I suspect he had a hand in it. But I’m never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll happily accept that Walrus’s team and our own people have found a way to break the curse.

Azul was slightly disappointed that he didn’t manage to find a method on his own. He really wanted to put the twins in his debt, but I guess he’ll have to sulk. His specialty is potions, after all. Not curses. He’s also a little salty because this implies Vil Schoenheit is still more skilled than him on the subject of curses. His competitive nature never dies down when it comes to other competent people, even after all these years.

Anyway, the curse was undone three days ago. They’ve woken up perfectly stable and healthy, if a little tired. The twins have spent nearly every waking hour in their room. I’m glad they’re all looking much more lively.

Their parents wanted to go right back to work, but Jade and Floyd have been very insistent on making sure they rest. Right now, Jade and his parents have decided to split up the work equally, but Jade plans on eventually relinquishing his position as the temporary head of the Leech Mafia. He doesn’t want it back anytime soon. His parents might want him to keep observing their work, but I think he’ll take a long breather after the Carpenter Mafia dissolves. He says he wants to join a research lab on fungi. I’m sure he’ll enjoy himself there.

Speaking of Jade’s interests, Floyd owes him quite a bit for breaking his terrariums. You cast a glance at the twin dozing off on the floor. Jade’s been working him hard. Just as you’re about to pull a knitted blanket off the window seat and drape it over his torso, Jade climbs up to the attic.

“Ah, I thought I might find you two here.” He ignores your shushing motion, speaking nearly louder than his usual conversational volume. “Have you made any progress on that journal?”

“Keep it down, Floyd’s sleeping.”

“Oh? I suppose he is.” He smiles as though he’s entirely innocent. “Even though he should be running an errand on the west side of the city right now. Isn’t that so, my dear brother?”

Floyd stirs, brows furrowing as he grumbles. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’m afraid you’re late. Why don’t you head out? It wouldn’t do for you to procrastinate.” Jade leans over him, his shadow eclipsing Floyd’s face. The latter gripes some more before rolling away and hopping right through the trapdoor. His footsteps echo through the halls, eventually leading to the sound of the front door.

“He’s tired. You should let him rest.” You close your journal and set it beside you.

He kneels by your seat and rests his head on your knee. Gingerly, you reach out and comb your fingers through his hair. His entire body melts against the wall and your knee.

“I am also tired.” His eyelids drop halfway, a pitiable pout on his lips. “Much more so than he is, I’m sure.”

“And what? You want a gold medal for the Fatigue Olympics?” Despite your words, your other hand holds his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek. “Come on, get off the floor. It can’t be comfortable.”

He sighs in contentment. “With the way you’re touching me, I have half a mind to stay where I am.”

You’ve come to realize that Jade acts this way when he’s looking for attention, and he only actively looks for attention from you. With a sigh escaping the smile on your lips, you ease his head off your knee and move your legs so that your feet touch the floor. He has the gall to look like a kicked puppy.

“You’re so dramatic.” You pat the cushioned space next to you. “Sit up here.”

It’s like his fatigue disappears as soon as you extend the invitation. He wastes no time in sitting next to you, his thigh pressing against yours. One of his hands reaches behind you. You feel it causing the cushions to shift under you as he uses it to support his weight. Strangely, it feels more intimate than if he had touched you directly. The knowledge that his arm is there creates a sense of security. Sturdy, safe, like the face of a cliff that has your back. He’ll never be a threat to you. You think back to what you once thought of people who trust Jade, and you wonder if you’re a fool, desperate, or if you have something on him.

It might not be so bad to be a fool once in a while.

You lean into his side and rest your head on his shoulder. A pause, followed by the light pressure of his cheek against your hair. His body is cool to the touch like always, and you find comfort in it.

“I’ll help you make new terrariums to replace the ones Floyd broke.”

“How kind of you.” The hand behind you lifts, only to find its place on your waist, securing you to his side. “In that case, I should consider what I’d like to grow in them. Lichen would decorate some surfaces well, but I doubt it would be possible.”

“Lichen?” You often see it back home near the shore. “Why not?”

“It cannot survive in a closed system like my terrariums.” His voice lowers to a soft, almost sweet tone. “It requires clean, fresh air, outside the confines of a box that I control. The charm of keeping a terrarium is that I control every factor within it, down to what lives or dies. But despite the fact that it eludes my grasp, I adore observing its beauty in the environment where it thrives.”

Somehow, you don’t think he’s talking about lichen anymore.

“Lichen grows on trees and rocks, right?” You think about the cliffside. Patches of pale green life covered the rocks where you met Jade. It brought a sort of earthy, rustic quality to the area. “It’s pretty. I think I’ve seen a few of your photos focusing on it.”

“Yes, it needs to be anchored to a sturdy surface.” He adjusts his grip on your waist. “Unassuming, allowing other elements of the scenery to shine, but charming and effective in its own right.”

You don’t want to ask if he’s referring to you. He’ll surely tease you for being self-absorbed. However, you are not so prideful as to not acknowledge what he’s trying to say.

“I sort of understand wanting to be anchored to something.” You place one hand over his. “It’s easier to let my guard down when there’s something that can protect my back.”

“Allow me to assist you with that.” He intertwines your fingers. “If you must be anchored to something, I’ll be more than happy to provide you with support forever, until you ask me to stop.”

“All this talk about ‘forever.’” A grin pulls at your lips. There’s no harm in teasing him once in a while. “It’s like you’re trying to marry me. What’s with that, huh?”

His entire body freezes. You lift your head from his shoulder, trying to look at his face.

“Jade? I was joking—”

He gently presses against your temple, his wrist blocking your eyes as he guides your head back down to his shoulder. What a letdown. This time, you really wanted to see his expression.

“Incidentally,” he says, “would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“You changed the topic way too abruptly.” Laughter bubbles in your throat. “I thought you were better at making conversation than that.”

“I’m inclined to disagree.” He doesn’t elaborate. “Are you free tomorrow evening? We can book a reservation for that restaurant you wanted to try.”

Usually, you wouldn’t turn it down. But . . .

“Sorry, I’ll be out with (Y/N) all day.” You’ve missed her. And after she called you in distress over losing the polaroids you took together, you promised to replace them with new ones. There’s so much you have yet to do with her. “Maybe the day after?”

Jade sighs loudly, as though he’s the most pitiful being in the world. Amidst teasing laughter, you close your journal and focus your attention on him. It’s alright to take your time writing it. Your story is a process that does not need to be rushed. It may only be a page at the moment, but one day, you’re sure this journal will fill with your experiences, plans, and thoughts. You will continue on living as your own person—not a side character or a main character in a grander scheme, but as yourself. To live as a human being with your unique experiences—that is your story.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #twst fanfic #mafia au #floyd leech #multi chap fic #slow burn has burned #thanks for reading so far!

[thevirgincherry]

black water - one !

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. cop!leon, corruption, mentions of harassment/rape/drugs, body horror, raccoon city incident never happened but there r bioweapons, suicide ideation bc leon, character death, there’s smut in later chapters i promise, public sex, creampie, hate sex, slapping, choking, gore descriptions

note. hi trying something new! i know raccoon city is in the midwest somewhere but to be frank idgaf ab the usa and know nothing about any part of it so i decided that it’s a southern state in this fic bc i wanted to make reader have the cute accent bc she’s a farmer :3 only the first chapter so like um this is honestly just more of a test to see if anyone would like this erm smut comes soon prommy.. reader implied poc but like um :3 PLEASE GIMME FEEDBACK N IGNORE MISTAKES!!

summary. there is something in the water, you want it gone before it eats more than just your livelihood.

You know pigs, so you know men.

This one has blue eyes, it is the type of blue you’d dip your toes into, you let the waves lap at your calves until it drags you under. His gaze taps a gun to the back of your head and demands full attention.

He is subjecting you to himself, and you hate it.

The glint of his blue-gold badge is nebulous in the dark. “Officer Leon S. Kennedy.” He offers you a look at his ID card - has the sort of face that lets him get away with things. “Criminal Investigations Department.”

Beside him, a dog with intelligent eyes stands sentinel. Officer Kennedy drops the leash and the dog sits back on its haunches. “Now, what’s this about pigs?”

The RPD is one great big circle jerk. Brian Iron’s doctrine is an easy one to follow, and Leon is not opposed to easy. His innards spill into the middle of it all as the lump in his throat dislodges, adding to the slurry of toxic waste that coats their blackened underbelly.

There is a horrible liminal quality to the place, footfall echoes in halls lit by jaundiced bulbs. The scent of sex is a wisp of smoke in his nose as he passes the chief’s office.

Raccoon City is a backwater bog, and to match the inhabitants are insular primitive beings who cling to antiquated ways. To be stationed here by choice was a lapse in judgement - snark is the currency of social interaction.

Leon is often taken by women.

He met this one back in Brooklyn, where he and his family lived above a Deli, an older southern lady with a gap in her teeth. Had the pleasure of crossing her path—Something about her just stuck. Led him to believe that all women round these parts had big hearts and even bigger bosoms. A place to rest his head for the night, a neck to hide his face in, blonde curls just shy of silver to tickle his skin flower-pink.

She talked all like:

Well, ain’t you just the sweetest peach I’ve ever seen! Oh, I could just eat a feller like you up, get me full as a tick.

Whatever it was that she said and meant, he liked it. And so guided by the expertise of his dick, Leon landed himself here.

There are a handful of beautiful women that Leon has seen, met, fucked.

(He weeded out the ugly ones the moment he was given access to the file room.)

The thing is, small town beautiful is different to New York pretty.

He has an ex over in Manhattan who could turn the sidewalk into a catwalk. She had Leon, a man built like a god, fumbling like a teenage girl. The last girl he fucked here was homely - she had the hushed urgency of a military wife and her monotony was sobering.

One girl he dated on and off for a year or two. She worked at a car wash and she was needy. Real needy. She missed the taste of his dick so he provided her with the scent of pussy instead. Every weekend he’d drive over and watch her clean the sex from the backseat of his cruiser just because he could.

Things are slow in this marshy cesspit, a never-ending conveyer belt of nothing much. The wind carries the scent of magnolia blossoms and sewage. It gives Leon a lot of time to think of the filth that is his underfurnished life. He lowers his head to the desk, allowing himself to fall in and out of spasms of lucidity.

Leon has done bad things, but he doesn’t qualify as a bad guy. The badge and the blue forbids it. Take Redfield for example, that guy got deployed in Penamstan. Y’know what happened there? He shot a kid or two and now he can’t get it up. He’s not a bad guy, not at all, he’s got a photo of his smiling face plastered in the lobby.

He’s a hero.

The only problem folks have with him is that heroes have nice, hard cocks and they fuck for hours. No matter his sex drive atrophied by gore splattered on the barrel of his gun, or how the studded underside of his boot caused flesh to crumple like the newspaper with his name on it—It doesn’t matter. To be built like a brick shithouse and have something soft between your legs, well, that just ain’t right, is it?

Over in Penamstan, he would say, you introduce yourself over the sound of gunfire, shake hands as the earth is split in half, kill an orphan to bond.

A good man for sure. So good his little sister went ghost.

(Leon finds her postcards in the mailroom. For Redfield’s sake, he hides them in the bottom drawer of his desk alongside all sorts of ephemera. He’s acquired quite the stash.)

Valentine is alright. She’s quiet. The moral fibre has been plucked out of her with a pair of forceps, and now she doesn’t think much about where she points her gun. They often sit in shared silence, and sometimes it is like looking in a funhouse mirror that creates a shape far slinkier than his bulk.

Chambers is too nice. Vickers is fat. Burton is old. Frost is ugly. These are all irrefutable flaws, but none of them are bad, and none of it is intentional. Not bad by Leon’s standards at least.

(The entirety of the STARS unit would be better off if they stopped kissing Captain Wesker’s flat ass, but that is like asking for sympathy from the devil.)

Man, he has too much time on his hands.

“Kennedy, you busy?” Rita knocks on his desk. The fabric of her shirt creases inwards to grasp the dip of her waist as she places a hand on her hip. She’s poised, but something about her gait is wobbly.

“Mighty busy.” He nods.

What they have is not history, but something much smaller. It is a word blotted out on a torn page from a burnt book, it is ground into powder by mortar and pestle.

It is Leon’s hand in her back pocket when nobody’s around.

“I’m sure.” She straightens her spine, eyes heavy with the weight of her lashes. “Up in Black Water, something about a dead pig.”

“They have gators,” Leon points out. He may be bored to the point of suicide, but he is not in the mood to wrangle any gators.

“I know,” she says, lifting her eyes from the ground to meet his sidelong gaze, “go check it out, she sounded real spooked, take a dog if you have to.”

She, huh.

Wonder what she looks like. He hopes she has big tits. He hopes she isn’t a cousin-fucking, peat-smelling hick.

Black Water has a lot of those.

“Took ya long enough.” Your voice skims the air like a bullet, it strikes Leon in the chest.

You are she. And you, well—You’re both the needle and the spoon.

Doused in the lantern glow, the egg-whites of your eyes are streaked by small, bloody streams, your mac is zipped up to the chin, and your rainboots are the same colour of boxed rubber duckies.

You’re no sole-crushed peach, making the ground its canvas in a pitiful splatter, you’re a tart cherry that he would like to pick, melt into a glaze and store in a jar.

“Oh, we’re mighty busy.” Leon wipes Rita’s wet from his fingers on the front of his tailored pants, it’s gotten sticky like pomade. He thinks of her tailbone digging into the flesh of his stomach as he sits her on his lap.

“I bet.” You raise your brows. “How many lines did’ja do?”

Leon leans forward to watch your face with unblinking eyes. “Don’t say that too loud, Wesker’s gonna get worried, y’know, start digging through his stash.”

“Hah.” Your laugh is hidden into the collar of your mac. “He seems like the type.”

“You met him before?” An unpleasant squelch is heard when he steps where you do, it seems deliberate for a moment, that you’re avoiding a well-trodden path to give him a hard time. He stumbles forward in the dark—His shoes are fucked, and these socks deserve a funeral service.

“Think we all have.” Your body is lost in the shapelessness of your attire, clothes draped over your frame like you are more hanger than human. Effortless femininity lost to androgyny. “You’re not from these parts.”

“You don’t look like you’re from these parts, pumpkin pie,” he mocks your twang and is met with a tut.

You stop and Leon bumps into you with a grunt.

He shines his torch at the ground and isn’t quite sure of what he’s looking at. “That’s a pig alright.”

#leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[apollosfavkiddo]

⛧° you promised you’d come back

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace x pluto!fem!reader blurb

warnings: angst, not a happy ending, interrupted friends to lovers, death of character, really short.

a/n: i know, i know, i have to post the leo fic first. whatever?? i wrote this late night in the hospital in my phone and i cried, so you’re gonna read it and cry too. this one doesn’t even have wc or song cause i literally left it just like i wrote. shits really short. good luck 🫡

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

You didn’t have any news on how the damn quest was going.

No Iris message. No letter. Absolutely no indication that your best friend was still alive. lt was a mix of emotions together, but especially fear.

Fear that maybe he wasn’t alive anymore. Maybe he had finally succumbed to one of those damned quests that your parents put you through, because somehow, they can’t do it on their owns.

But you had to cling to the small light of hope that was alive and that he was okay. After all, he promised you he’d come back.

“Of course i’ll come back, y/n/n. I always do.”

And maybe when you do came back, you thought, i’m finally be able to tell you how much i love you.

But all that hope was completely and totally crushed down the moment that Nico came to your apartment, along with Lester, Meg and Piper.

All of them had a dark and intense gaze, but especially Nico.

You obviously knew about the growing friendship that Jason had with the younger boy. Gods, Jason even talked about him like an older brother talks about his baby sibling.

And that’s when you knew. That’s when it hit you, that’s you’d never see Jason again.

“Y/n… can i come in?” Nico asked, his voice cracked. He instantly cleared his throat and stand up straight, swallowing a lump. “I mean- we. Can we come in?”

You just nodded, the tears already welling up in your eyes.

“Hm… Im really sorry to say this, Y/n, but… Jason didn’t make it. Caligula, he-“ Apollo - Jason’s half brother, cause nothing could be better - said, but you interrupted him with a raise of your hand.

“It’s okay. You didn’t have to come all the way here to talk to me about this. You have a quest to continue, i get it. You can go now.” You said, your voice trying to sound firm and certain.

“Y/n, are you-“ Piper said, reaching out a hand to you.

“Yes.” You said, taking a step back away from her. You and Piper never had the best relationship, and you just thought that she was the last person you’d want around in a moment like this - the girl who first killed Jason. “I’m fine. Really.”

You tried to sound reassuring, but Nico quickly caught in your facade. He cleared his throat again and looked back at the trio behind him. “It’s fine.” He said, and they finally backed off.

Meg was the only one who didn’t. She achtualmy took a step forward and pulled you in to a hug. She was a few inches shorter than you, so it was hard for her, but the hug was very appreciated. You quickly reciprocated, and she finally pulled away. She had puffy eyes and a pout on her lips.

“I’m sorry about him. I know you were close.” She said in a whisper, only to both of you hear, and you smiled. She was sweet. You nodded and whispered back a small ‘thank you’. And then, they finally left.

When you closed the door, you immediately broke into sobs. Your brother was quick to cradle you into his arms, and you just sobbed.

Not that far after, you felt his body also shaking. You didn’t think you ever saw Nico cry, but this was understandable, at least. He was his best friend. He was the best friend to both of you.

“W-why, Nico? It’s- it’s not fair! He’s- he was too young, he-“ You groaned as you sobbed into Nico’s old jacked, damping it completely. Bit you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when that happened.

He nodded, caressing your back.

He was gone. Jason was gone. Your Jason. Your best friend. The man you were in love with. The person that you grew to admire, looking up to how kind, generous and intelligent he was.

Your favorite person. Your soulmate.

In the end, all that’s left is a broken promise, a crossed heart and a shattered soul.

#all my love 🍀 #postcards from leah #jason grace #jason grace angst #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo

[braveclementine]

October 22- Mirror Sex (Legolas) 💙

Warnings: 18+ readers only, angst, mirror sex, prince kink, princess kink, oral sex 

Copyright: I do not own Legolas or any other LOTR characters. Annerose is a made up character, but she's barely mentioned and I don't own names either. I also do not condone any copying of this.

You gazed as the gorgeous man in front of you. Well, not so much of a man as he was an elf, one of the ancient race and you knew there was a difference- to them of course. Such a difference that the relationship between you and Legolas was kept a secret. It wasn't entirely forbidden, but Legolas was the son of an elf King. 

Your eyes trailed down his body. He had the perfect physique- as all of the elven men and women seemed to. Thin, but still fit and muscular. Long luscious blond hair and a pretty face, but still manly at the same time. 

You always felt rather. . . well ugly was a blunt word, but it still fit. Unflattering, perhaps. You knew among common mortals- as Legolas might put it- you were decently pretty, even in your own eyes, but amongst the elves. . .

Legolas was a man and beautiful. The women were something completely different. You still didn't know how Legolas could prefer you when he had so many female elves that would love to court with him. 

"You're staring." Legolas murmured softly, feeling your eyes burning into him. He opened them, his brown eyes meeting your E/C ones. Though you looked away, he could still read the emotions in them, sliding a hand across your hand. "Y/N, you are beautiful." 

You flushed, looking away completely. It was very easy for him to say it, of course. But it didn't mean anything. Not when you couldn't see it yourself. 

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Always self-conscious of the maid that came in to serve the two of you, you quickly slumped back into the sheets, feigning sleep while Legolas chuckled softly. 

You knew which elf it was the minute he greeted her by name. The elf with the silvery blue hair and large purple eyes. She was so beautiful you couldn't even believe she was a maid and even more surprised that Legolas had not had any sort of relations with her before meeting you. It had been rumored that they had, after all. But Legolas always told you the truth about whatever you asked. If he said they hadn't, then they hadn't. 

"Good morning my Prince." Annerose murmured softly, the sounds of clinking dishes being set on a tray near the bed. 

"Good morning Annerose." Legolas murmured back quietly, his hand landing gently on your shoulder blades. 

 "Um, my Prince!" Annerose said quickly, as though wanting to speak before you woke up, "I. . . there have been. . . well pardon me if this sounds forward. But you are our future King and some of the other servants. . . we've been worried about you." 

"Oh?" Legolas questioned. You could heard the curiosity in his voice. "For what reason?" 

Annerose hesitated a long time before saying rather meekly. "I know this is rather forward of me, my Prince, and I'm sorry if this comes across as rude, but we have been worried if. . . if you are satisfied." 

Your cheeks burned and Legolas hand stopped rubbing circles on your back. You held back anything you wanted to say or do, keeping up the pretense of sleep. 

Legolas responded easily. "I can assure you that it is a needless worried. I am very satisfied, Annerose." 

"Ah." Annerose sounded unhappy with this, but of course would never say so. "I'm glad my Prince. Well, if there is ever anything else, you shall ring the bell." 

"Of course. Thank you." Legolas said, the edge of his tone clearly dismissive and then suddenly called out, "Annerose!" 

"Yes, my Prince?" Her tone had the slightest hint of hope in it. 

"Please, to clear all conscious and worries, let the others know that Y/N is to be my wife. They need not worry with my love, she is all I shall ever want." Legolas said. 

Annerose said nothing more, leaving the room, the door closing behind her quietly. 

Legolas said nothing, his hand leaving your back and you felt the bed dip as he got off of it, presumably to go and get the breakfast. You stayed laying where you were, hoping to fall back into an endless sleep and get away from the humiliation. 

The bed dipped again, long lithe arms pulling you back against his chest. A sob had gotten stuck in your throat and you didn't dare let it out, so you kept your lips shut firmly, trying to even out your breathing. 

"I know you're not asleep." Legolas murmured, stroking your hair back. "And I know her words hurt you. I'm sorry they were so thoughtless, my love." 

You swallowed the sob down and once the lump was gone, you murmured softly. "I'm alright. Just tired." 

"No you're not." Legolas saw right through you. "I know exactly what you need." 

He started to kiss down the back of your spine, his lips leaving a feather trail of burning spots. His hands caressed you and when you finally opened your eyes, he picked you up, swinging you over to sit you on the end of the bed. 

"Look." He murmured softly, looking straight at something, and then you realized that it was your reflection. The two of you were reflected in the tall, body-length mirror that sat in front of his bed. Gilded and wrought with silver and emeralds, your reflections were clear as day. 

You were painfully aware of how plain you looked next to him and averted your eyes down to the carpet in front of the bed, but Legolas wasn't having any of it. His fingers lifted your chin until you were looking directly at the two of you again. 

"What do you see?" Legolas asked softly, kissing the side of your neck, before meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

"I see myself. And I see you." You stated stubbornly. 

Legolas didn't back down. "How do you think of me?" 

"You're gloriously beautiful." You replied immediately. "You're so ageless and fair, there's a gay light in your eyes at all times. Your hair is so silky and smooth, it glows. But you're also as regal as your father." 

"And how do you think of yourself?" Legolas fingers were rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh now, slightly distracting you. 

"Well, I haven't prettied myself up, so I look rather plain." You admitted, figuring that this was the game you were playing and it was time to put everything out in the open. "But then again, next to you, I'm always plain. I don't have any of your light and I don't have any elvish beauty. I wish I did. Annerose is so beautiful Legolas, I don't know how you didn't fall for her instead." 

"Because she's not you." Legolas whispered, pulling the sheets away from your body so that you were exposed- the two of you having fallen asleep naked last night. You flushed a little as he ran his fingers through your H/C mons, before sliding two fingers into your cunt. 

Legolas got off the bed, sliding to the floor in front of you. "Y/N, you're going to look into the mirror the entire time. You will not look away, you will not close your eyes, you will only look at yourself and focus on my words. You don't have to ask for permission or say anything at all. Your safe word is still in use, understand?" 

"Yes." You murmured, letting your eyes stray down for a second, looking at the glorious Prince on his knees before you, before letting your eyes move back up to your own face. 

Legolas licked a stripe through your folds, your legs shaking a little, threatening to close around his head. 

"You know what I see?" Legolas asked, before diving back in for his feast. Though you knew that you didn't have to answer, you couldn't help the slightly snarky retort that rolled off your tongue. 

"A human?" 

Legolas lightly pinched the inside of your thigh, but otherwise didn't comment. He pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers and answered instead, "I see a beautiful young woman. Your hair shines in the sun, and when you have it down, it curls around your face, framing it, so that it softens your features." 

You wanted to look down at him, but kept your eyes focused on the mirror, looking at yourself. It was the one thing Legolas had commanded from you, so you wanted to make sure you followed through. 

"You have a different beauty." Legolas continued, placing light kisses on the inside of your thighs. "Something no elf has, even me. Mortal beauty Y/N. You are beautiful as a human and you don't even realize it." 

'Well of course not.' You thought inside your head, staring into your own eyes, which reflected a bitter sadness back at you. 'Have you seen yourself?' 

Legolas seemed to feel your emotions because he kissed the inside of your thigh and said, "Look. Look at yourself Princess." 

Your heart fluttered with the nickname and you watched your cheeks redden just a tad. A new light was in your eyes as pleasure started to coil in your abdomen. One of your small hands came into view as you placed it lightly on Legolas' fair hair. You watched your slender fingers slide into his locks as he latched back onto your cunt. 

You watched your own eyes widen, glistening lips parting a little as you let out a moan. 

"Look how beautiful you are." Legolas mumbled, muffled slightly as he didn't let up eating you out. You let out another moan, his words causing vibrations against your lower lips. Your legs shook and you could see your cheeks turning pinker. 

"My Prince. . ." You moaned, voice quavering as you started to read the apex of your orgasm. Legolas looked beautiful between your legs, your hand tightening in his hair, the golden-white locks bunching up. He looked almost disheveled now, if that was possible. . . and it was because of you. 

Your eyes were even brighter now, almost glazed as you reached your pleasure, which felt like fire across your veins. Your body shook and you watched yourself in the mirror once more, before collapsing against the bed so that you could relax. 

You stared up at Legolas as he knelt next to you, smiling a little like you were the most adorable thing he'd seen on Middle Earth. His hand stroked your cheek until you finally smiled back at him. 

"Did you see your beauty?" Legolas asked softly. 

You knew what he meant and you could see it. He was right, it was a different sort of beauty than perhaps he was thinking about, but it was beauty. 

"Yes." You whispered. 

"Do you know why you're mine?" Legolas whispered. 

You blushed at that. "You love me." 

"Exactly." Legolas said, picking you up into his arms now, cradling you as he brought you over to sit with the food so the two of you could eat. "I love you." 

You burrowed into his side, glancing up and seeing the two of you in the mirror again. You smiled at your reflection and then said to Legolas, "I love you too." 

#Braveclementineworks #Kinktober 2023 #Mirror sex #prince kink #princess kink #angst #18+readers only #Legolas #Legolas Greenleaf #Legolas x reader #Legolas Greenleaf x reader #xreader #smut #Legolasxreader #Kinktoberprompt

[2goldendarkness]

I usually reblog, rather than make my own posts, but seeing everyone in the gaze community deal with their grief by writing things down has given me some courage to do the same. I hope it will help me in my grieving process and i hope to help everyone who does relate to what i write. So this will be my farewell letter.

Dear Reita,

I got the news seven days too late, like how it usually is for me coming into a fandom.

I became a fan about 8 years ago, i was doing a creative education as a designer, listening to random music on Youtube with autoplay. Suddenly i found Red, the first song that got me into the Gazette, i was glued to my screen and intrigued with the looks of all members. But why the hell was that one guy wearing a band around his nose? I needed to get into it. So i did.

The gazette then became my first and favorite Visual kei band, i’ve been trough a lot in my life and whenever hardship struck me, there was always an interview that would make me laugh. When i had boring days in school we even played a game, my friends would ask me “why is he covering his nose?” And i would make up the weirdest stories on the spot. That resulted in some charms with titles like ‘reita and the smelly drummer.’ And ‘reita the drugs dealer.’ It varied from poking fun and making up the stupidest thing, to making you some cool guy who fought bad guys. It would always make us laugh, even though, i was making up these stories to friends who weren’t even necessarily in the fandom, because everyone who saw you once, knew your name and so knew who you were.

I wrote fanfiction, many in where you play a big part of the story, not as a love interest, but as a brother of a character based off of me. All because you once said in a radio show that you feel like you’d be a great older brother, hell did i take you up on that one.

I never got to see The Gazette live, i used to curse you all for skipping my country and forcing me to travel for 5 hours to see you all. In 2018 i was almost at that point, but i couldn’t go because of my exams and because i had no friends who wanted to come with me. I always promised myself: one day, i will see them.

It hurts me to realize that day will never come, at least you won’t be there anymore. I accidentally open instagram, and find a grief post written by Hiroto of Alice nine, in the hashtags your name. Shock, that’s the first thing i felt. I must be going crazy. But next up was Miyavi’s post and as i read that it slowly starts downing upon me, my heart sinks to my stomach and a lump forms in my throat as i rush to jrocknews to confirm they aren’t just playing a sick joke.

I start crying like most of the sixth guns, but only after i start reading the members messages. Why am i crying? We’ve lost a talented bass player who inspired so many people to also start making music. The world lost ‘the world’s Reita’ who was always poking fun at the drummer. The bookstores lost their most unexpected romance buyer. Many lost their source of love and joy. I’ve lost my fictional brother.

But most importantly, your actual family lost a loving family member who bought his mother an entire house to repay her for raising him well. The Gazette lost a member. Kai lost his fear during interviews of whatever you are going to say next. Ruki lost being in your personal space no matter how big the dressing room. Aoi lost the person who’s jokes he could laugh the hardest about. Uruha lost his longtime best friend, and now can no longer feel your heart racing before the show, nor can he feel your hand searching for his heart.

I hope everyones feelings reach you, i hope that whichever way you passed, was peaceful and without pain. I hope that whenever it is our time, you come in your mustang to pick everyone up. Usually as a driving instructor i call shotgun, but i’ll leave that space to your close relatives. That way i can’t judge you for turning around while parking, rather than using your mirrors.

Thank you for everything Reita, you will never be forgotten. Once my grief is gone, i promise to remember you with a smile rather than cry. I also promise to be a fan of The Gazette no matter what they decide to do now you’re gone.

And to whomever read my entire message, thank you for reading this unhinged post.

#rip reita #personal #the gazette