#i just think they had too many ideas at once and yet also not enough backstory

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Cant help but notice krubus stardew in the requests,,, so if i may,,,

How about a oneshot/headcanons, whichever ya think works better, for a farmer Reader who's roommates with Krobus, and Shane ends up visiting the farm, and accidentally finds Krobus and the reader is trying their best to calm the situation down or smthn? :]

Ofc you dont have to do this!!

Salt anon (have a good day also!!! always lovely to see ya on my dash :] )

YES MY TWO FAVES <3333

Got carried away but I had so many ideas for this one

.......

'I should check the coop. The void chicken could be hungry, and [y/n] may appreciate me stepping up. But...what if a human saw me? Oh Yoba...I hope there's no surprise visitors today..'

As Krobus paced around your cabin, he kept looking outside the window at the snowfall, the coop just within his sights. It was the second day of winter, and all of the animals you've been raising were huddled inside for the season, the hay keeping their bellies full.

But something told him that the void chicken you recently introduced to the farm felt lonely, a misfit among the "normal" chickens. She wasn't too sociable around them, and that worried Krobus.

Of course he, of all people, could understand why.

To this very day, the shadow monster couldn't fathom why you'd take him into your home..when his existence alone scared humanity and could damage your reputation with the town.

What would the villagers think if they learned you're housing a beast who once dwelled in the mines?

Many weren't anywhere near as brave as you were when it comes to venturing deep into shadow monster territory....and the few who had the guts to made it their personal mission to slay as many of his people as possible.

Or at least..what remained of them after the elemental wars.

Surprisingly enough, some of the brutes began visiting your farmland at night, and Krobus would see them hiding in the foliage, behind trees..or even rummaging through your crops, yet never taking anything for themselves.

He wishes he could greet them normally, ask what drew them to the surface, or try to reason that you're a good human who shouldn't be attacked.

Yet in the back of his mind...he feared being branded a traitor for siding with the species that hurt so many of his own people.

What would they do if they noticed his pendant and realized a human gifted it to him?

Surely they would freak out, coerce him into coming back to the mines where it was "safe"...or worse, they'd kill you and make him watch. He couldn't let his presence be known, lest they discovered you were housing him and destroyed the life you built here.

You would think he betrayed you and brought a siege upon your land--after all you've done to shelter him from the cruelty of the world.

Not even Yoba would forgive such a sin.

Even though he felt his connection with his people drifting with each passing week, he was content with his choice to live with you. He wouldn't trade your kindness and generosity for the world.

Plus, you've told him over and over that you knew what you were signing up for. You knew it when you first bought a void egg from him. You knew it when you and the wizard broke up his fight with Dwarf. You knew it when you created a space in your home that suited his environmental needs.

All he could offer you was a stardrop in return, but it was more than enough for you.

Krobus vowed to contribute to the farm's many tasks how ever he could..when it safe for him to step outside of course.

On this cold winter's day, he figured checking out the coop would be a great first step.

He peeked into your bedroom, discovering you to be sound asleep and looking rather peaceful.

Indeed, it was a stark contrast to how battered and bruised you were last night, having returned from the Skull Caverns at midnight. None of his people ventured there, considering the desert climate would be unbearable for them to live in, but while sharing meals he'd listen to your tales of serpents, mummies, and even dinosaurs living down below.

By comparison..the monsters in the mines seemed tamer and were somewhat civilized, and at his request you managed to avoid fighting them if you could.

The beasts you encountered in the Skull Caverns were brutal and unforgiving, and you had no choice but to defend yourself.

This trip in particular took quite a toll on your body, as you had to use a warp totem to get home...and even then, you were limping from sheer exhaustion. So much so Krobus had to assist you up the stairs and into your bed. He ran the the risk of being seen, yet his concern over your health took priority.

Sleep didn't easily come for him, but it only did after he prayed and thanked Yoba for bringing you home.

He didn't like the idea of you pushing yourself to work so early in the morning, so he decided he'll help lighten that load.

Starting with the coop.

Opening the door, he breathed in the crisp winter air, relieved to not see any humans in sight. There was your pet, who was initially frightened by his sudden arrival, but now warmly greeted him as they climbed the steps.

Krobus laughed softly, crouching down to pet them. "Good morning, little one." He whispered. "Enjoying the snow? I like it very much..but I can't say our chicken friends will agree."

He stood and continued on his way to the small building, eager to check up on your animals and see to it that they're fed.

But unbeknownst to him, a human arrived onto your farmland at that same moment, only seeing a dark figure creeping into the coop.

And he just so-happened to be the man who cared for chickens more than life itself.

......

Shane arrived at your farm, holding a small envelope with a letter inside. It contained a recipe for some dessert--not one that he made or discovered, of course, but rather one he tore out of a magazine.

His first thought was of you, knowing you liked gathering fresh produce and made your own meals..compared to him, a lazy bum who microwaves processed garbage in a plastic dish and called it "dinner."

It wasn't much, but it was the least he could do for a friend who pulled him out of such a dark place..

You were taking a shortcut to the sewer when you found him near the cliffs...where he was truly at his lowest. He doesn't remember much of what he said, but you told him that he considered ending his own life, yet changed his mind after you told him some comforting words.

All the strength you've gained down in the mines allowed you to drag him to the hospital, where you stayed by his side the entire night. Even when Harvey assured you he'll be okay, you refused to abandon him.

Shane never thought anybody in this town would care if he just up and disappeared, yet despite his rudeness towards you...you managed to break down his walls and show him that you cared.

And all it took were some peppers, pizza, eggs, and stupid amounts of persistence.

It really hit him that he almost did something he couldn't reverse..and he never wanted you, Jas, or Marnie to see him get that bad again.

So he promised to make some serious changes, see that counselor Harvey recommended to him, and cut back on the hours he spends at the saloon after work.

The last time you both talked, you mentioned Robin upgrading your coop's space, and Shane was thrilled. So he figured he'd come visit and see how the animals were doing in this cold weather.

He was also curious about that "void egg" you got from a merchant...and he wondered who it was if not Marnie.

Obviously he'd feel like a jerk if he came emptyhanded, or awkward if you weren't actually home right now, thus he decided to bring the letter and recipe just in case. A small surprise "gift" for you to come back to later.

As he approached your mailbox, however, he noticed a dark figure opening the door to your coop. He couldn't tell who it was as they quickly went inside, as though afraid of being seen.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep making him see things, but-

"Huh? What kinda tracks are these..?" He looked down, finding footprints in the snow that didn't belong to any human's.

In fact, they seemed to have clawed toes..

Just like a monster's.

At the saloon, you recounted tales of how you've encountered slimes, plant monsters, bats, and even shadow creatures on your farmland at night--as well as your adventures down in the mines with skeletons, ghosts, and more.

Most of the regulars were 99% certain you were drunk, but others believed your stories and were fascinated by them, as you'd show them gems as proof of your excursions. Sebastian in particular was intrigued by the frozen tear you discovered, flattered that you allowed him to keep it.

Shane, on the other hand, merely dismissed your tales with a "buh" and an eyeroll before sipping away at his beer. He was never a strong believer in the supernatural..convinced that only slimes, rock crabs, flies, and bats dwelled in the mines and nothing else.

Living Skeletons? Metal Heads?? Shadow Shamans???

You HAD to be either drunk, on drugs, or both at the same time.

Although he's become more open-minded to your stories since befriending you, he was still skeptical...yet the footprints he was seeing in the snow didn't match up to any animal he knew in the valley.

Whatever it was, it must've figured out that your coop was an all-you-can-eat-buffet.

That thought alone made him break out into a cold sweat, picking up a stone before rushing towards the building. He didn't hear any noise inside, and that made him all the more concerned.

You helped him when he needed it most, and now he'll repay you by defending your chickens...even though he knew nothing about fighting monsters.

Upon opening the door, he was stunned to find a shadowy humanoid creature holding your void chicken in its arms. It had a goopy smile on its face, looking down at the bird-

Before there was a furious shout.

"HEY! Put that chicken down!"

.........

"HEY! Put that chicken down!"

Just as you were tuning into the Oracle's channel on TV, you were startled by the sound of Shane yelling at someone-

Wait..

'What's Shane doing on my farm? And at this hour, too?? I thought he sleeps in all the time..' Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around the house.

"Krobus? You in here? I may have a visitor."

No response.

You checked the monster's room, and sure enough didn't find him in there.

Normally he'd freak out and hide beneath your bed if he even caught a glimpse of a human outside. You'd always tell him ahead of time if a friend was coming to visit just so he knew when and how long to stay hidden.

Of course, you never liked having to keep Krobus a secret, yet you understood why he believed that was for the best. He was so, so afraid to go with you even after gifting him the void ghost pendant--a precious amulet from his culture, symbolizing unity and devotion to another.

His worst fear was you being shunned and getting hurt because of him. But you promised to make things work, and so far you've had no problems.

The only other place he'd go besides your cabin was the coop, having grown fond of the animals there and the void chicken you were raising. The winter allowed him to bond with them.

But if he's there right now..and you just heard Shane yell, then-

'Oh fuck.'

Throwing on your boots and jacket, you rushed out the door, damn near slipping on the pathway to the coop.

You opened the door, finding Shane staring down your terrified roommate with anger, ready to throw a stone at who he believed was a monster trying to eat your livestock.

But as he reeled his arm back, he was confused by your hand grabbing his wrist. "Huh?! Hey! Let go!" He grunted.

"Shane, what the hell are you doing?!"

For a moment, he blinked and stared at you as though you had several heads. "What does it look like? I'm....that thing was trying to eat your chickens!" He pointed to Krobus, who was now curled up in the corner, having let go of the void chicken long ago.

"That's one of the monsters you were talking about, right? Don't you have a sword or something that could-?"

"He's not a threat."

Shane froze. "..huh?"

"His name is Krobus. He's a shadow person I met in the sewers." Letting him go, you opted to stand between the two. Krobus immediately got up and latched onto your shirt, hiding behind you for protection.

"The sewers? Jas and Vincent said they saw a monster through the grates, but I thought it was some imaginary friend."

"Well news flash, he's real. And right now he's more scared of you." You huffed. "Now please..put the rock down."

After some hesitance, he complied and dropped the stone. "Fine..sorry. I thought it--he was trying to-"

"I would never harm one of Yoba's precious creatures!" Krobus snapped, despite his voice trembling. "Especially not one that [y/n] so lovingly raised."

"You...understand what I'm saying?" Shane looked astonished.

"Of course.." The shadow monster calmed down a little, but redirected his anger to you. "You..we had an agreement. You promised to tell me if someone was coming."

"I didn't know he was here at all." You frowned. "You could've told me you were checking out the coop."

"But you were so weary from last night, and I thought you'd appreciate sleeping in-!"

"Look..if it helps, I can just leave and pretend none of this ever happened."

Both of you looked at Shane, who was slowly making his way to the door, only for him to stop as you sighed.

There's no way you could hide this now..

"Stay. This isn't something you can "pretend" never happened. Let's all head back to my house and I'll explain everything. Maybe we can come to an understanding without any violence. Whatdya say, boys?"

Shane and Krobus briefly glanced at each other, before silently nodding.

.........

"So basically...you got chased out of your home by Dwarves, had some great war with them, got cozy in the sewers...and [y/n] just...stumbled upon you?"

"Erm..slight correction, the local librarian had a key to the sewers, which [y/n] obtained. And only then they stumbled upon me-"

"After I donated like 60 artifacts to the museum, of course." You added on as you stood by the oven, watching the timer.

For a brief moment, you looked back at the two people sitting awkwardly at the table:

Shane, who was still wondering if the shadow monster sitting across from him was really a monster, a hallucination from his withdrawals, or just..someone in a SUPER convincing costume.

And Krobus, who stared at this scruffy, tired man who desperately needed a shave and a new jacket--the only other human he's spoken to aside from you and Rasmodius.

"Wow..I'd say I need a drink, but um..I'm in recovery right now. So I gotta cut back on those." Shane admitted, scratching awkwardly at his hair. "Do you like living on this farm with [y/n], Krobus?"

"It was...a difficult transition. Something I never expected to happen." He fidgeted with the pendant around his neck. "Our existence..terrifies humans. They attacked us when we came to the surface to make peace, so we stopped and hid back underground. We learned the world wasn't kind to those who were different. But [y/n] showed me that not all of them are like that...and I'm grateful for all they've done for me. I don't regret my choice.."

Then he looked to you, suddenly bashful. "A-As long as they don't regret it, of course..sometimes I feel like all of this is a dream. Or some foolish prank.."

"It's no dream or prank, Krob. I have no regrets becoming your friend." You smiled and patted the monster's head reassuringly, before glancing at Shane. "Just like I don't regret befriending this guy."

"Yeah..I was uh..in a pretty bad place myself." He mumbled, suddenly finding the weather outside more interesting.

"You said your name was "Shane", right?"

He blinked, looking back to Krobus. "Uh yeah?"

"Did you know that means "gift from Yoba"?" His eyes lit up, smiling from ear-to-ear as he clasped his hands together. "You should be proud of it! You are a blessed child of.....um...what's with that look?"

Shane's expression abruptly shifted to one of discomfort, and he couldn't help but shrink back. "Did..I say something wrong? W-Was I out of line?"

"No, no. I probably should've mentioned this sooner, but I'm actually atheist."

"....as in...you don't believe in Yoba?"

Reluctantly, Shane nodded and averted his gaze once more, expecting some kind of lecture or change in his friendly tone that would make this his first and last conversation with him.

Nobody liked it when he mentioned how he stopped believing in Yoba long ago, especially after what happened with Jas' parents and how his life just plummeted into a downward spiral since then. He feels like his name was cruel joke, and he had a pit in his stomach whenever he was reminded of it.

So now he was fully expecting this devout monster to spew something vile and call him a "horrible nonbeliever"-

"Why the guilty face?"

"..wha?" He did a double-take, seeing Krobus' smile return.

"I've observed humans long enough to understand their religious preferences, or lack thereof. We have our beliefs, and you have yours..and that is okay." He reassured. "No need to feel ashamed, Shane."

It took the man a few moments to process his words..before a small smile appeared on his face as well, shoulders less tense than before. "Whew..thanks. Seriously..you're somehow more understanding than all the people in my life." He chuckled dryly.

Krobus was about to respond, when the ding from your kitchen timer made the two pause their conversation, seeing you take something out of the oven.

It was a dessert that had a shimmering purple hue.

"Oh hey..you actually made it?" Shane blinked. "The infamous "Strange Bun"?"

"Yep! It actually looks pretty.." You smiled, setting it on the stove so it could cool down. "I almost don't wanna eat it...but I'm sure we can split it three ways."

"I recognize that dessert." Krobus gasped. "It's considered a delicacy among my people! How I've longed to taste it again....but how did you come to possess its recipe?" He looked to Shane, who simply dug out a crumpled magazine page from his pocket.

"Right here. It looked good, and [y/n] likes cooking stuff and finding the ingredients themselves..so I figured it's something new they could try."

"And it came out fantastic." You chuckled, bringing over plates of the strange bun and sitting down at the table, passing them to your friends. "Dig in, boys."

While Krobus was actively drooling and devouring it with his bare hands, you took a few bites and instantly felt rejuvenated....whereas Shane kept awkwardly poking at it with a fork, eyebrows furrowed.

"You sure this is safe to eat? Like..I'm not gonna keel over, am I?"

"...you're acting like Jas when she doesn't wanna eat her vegetables."

".....shut it." With a grumble, he rolled his eyes before finally taking a couple bites. You and Krobus watched him in anticipation, studying his reaction.

Only to be met with disappointment.

"Eh..I think I'll stick to frozen pizzas, but thanks. Here. It's all yours." He pushed the half-eaten bun towards Krobus, who gleefully finished it up.

"Thank you..this was delightful." The shadow monster swallowed, looking up at you both, frowning slightly. "But I do fear..now that one more person knows of my existence, word may spread to the town and-"

"I won't tell anyone."

"....really?" He looked at Shane, surprised.

"I used to not believe in "shadow people"..I actually thought you guys were just stuff of fiction. But no, you're actually pretty cool. And...I get that feeling of being stuck in a dark place, thinking you're a pest and a burden who has no future to look forward to. It sucks, but [y/n] here..." He paused and gestured to you with a smile. "They pulled me out of that funk, and it seems they'd pulled you out of one, too."

"They have..I-I find this hard to believe, but it seems we have more in common than I first thought." Krobus chuckled softly. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding, and that you embrace my existence, Shane."

"Yeah, uh...glad you can..embrace mine as well." He mumbled, already kicking himself mentally for how weird that sounded. "But tell me..you like caring for chickens, too? I saw that one with the black feathers and red eyes."

"Indeed, that is a void chicken! I've carried their eggs for ages, but the mines weren't suitable enough to raise chicks in. Then [y/n] showed me the coop, and now I know they're in good hands."

"Ah...did you wanna meet Charlie sometime? Or one of my blue chickens?"

"......chickens can be blue?" Krobus had such a starry-eyed look, as though he had just been told the secrets of the universe.

Meanwhile, you were just cleaning the dishes, listening to their conversation delve into chicken care, eggs, and more. And you could only smile, glad to see that your monster roommate was finally warming up to humans.

Only a select few will get to see him, as you didn't wanna compromise his safety...

But for now, Shane is the only one you could trust.

#clanask #salt anon #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #sdv krobus #sdv krobus x reader #platonic #the only connection these fellas have is the 'strange bun' and once i figured that out- #i got back on track to writing this heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[atalossofwords]

YOU TASTE THE SILVER - IvanTill WIP (Part 7)

Somehow, these two last POVs turned out bigger than I expected. I think I can keep up the one POV change per day here before I post the full chapter on AO3, but I don't promise anything.

Also, I have plans for how many chapters it'll be! Yay me.

ON AO3 - part one - part two - part three - part four - part five&six

Till was... nervous. For more than one reason.

Firstly, he was getting ready for Mizi's concert. He'd be nervous enough to go to any show, since crowded places made him antsy, but this was a meet and greet. He bought a new jacket exclusively for this, and was trying very hard not to be weird about using perfume and generally dressing up for the occasion.

Secondly, he had Navi's number. He hadn't said anything after that first exchange, too awkward to try and make small talk but he found himself... wanting to.

He refused to let Hyuna send the messages, since she was halfway ready to demand to see Navi's ID. It was awkward but then... Then Navi had said all those things, about how much he liked Till's music, how Till deserved more recognition than what he got...

It made Till's stomach swoop, his cheeks colored red.

It reminded Till of those days when he had only 100 followers, when Navi would send 100$ donations solely to max the character limit as he talked about how much he liked Till's lyrics, how his mixing made him feel, how he couldn't believe Till didn't have a record deal yet.

After that short text conversation, Hyuna had changed her "bored office worker" theory to a "disillusioned producer", and for once Till was inclined to agree.

Still meant he was far from understanding why Navi would send him so much money.

"Till, are you ready?" Hyuna calls out, startling Till out of his thoughts. He gives a last once-over to his outfit, deems it ready, and goes to greet her.

Hyuna is wearing a black tank-top, cargo pants, hiking boots and a leather jacket he's sure once belonged to Dewey when he still ran with a motorcycle gang. She rolls his eyes at his face.

"Ready to go? We need to be in the venue in half an hour if we want to get in at a good time." He nods, checking that the clear bag he's bringing has all his necessary documents.

Tickets? Check. ID? Check. His first Mizi album and custom photocard binder? Check. A handwritten letter for Mizi? Check. Extra pens in case he or other fans need it? Check. A truly unholy number of phone charms he made himself the night before to exchange with fans? Check. He makes grabby hands to Hyuna, waiting until she puts all her stuff in the bag as well before shouldering it.

"You're such a mother hen." She says, grinning. "I heard we might not be allowed in with food, so I sent Isaac to get something from the convenience store we can eat on the way."

"Oh, good idea. He's meeting us there?" He asks, perking up. He really wasn't looking forward to surviving on granola bars for the day.

They end up meeting Isaac in the car, since he and Dewey are driving them and Hyuna wanted to re-touch her makeup. Isaac gets them both sandwiches, as well as a pack of chips to eat in the queue. He also gets two starbucks packaged drinks, black coffee for Hyuna, and caramel frappuccino for Till.

Luckily, the queue isn't too big; the meet-and-greet isn't open for a lot of people, so Till spends his time waiting by chatting with fellow fans, discussing the new album, and even meets one of his own fans, Mizi's Boots, who he remembers as an occasional chatter who mostly comes for his mixing streams.

She's very flustered that he remembers, but eventually they settle into some more normal conversations, Hyuna teasing them both about bringing so many phone charms to trade. He makes sure to put hers on his phone right away, since she takes care to pick one that matches his streaming set-up.

It also reminds him that... he has Navi's number.

He should send a message, right? Just to say he's at the venue. He did a few lives since getting the tickets, and only commented that he'd be going on the last one, so as to not give his fans any time to buy tickets to search him out instead of Mizi.

Navi had said nothing to indicate he was the one who sent the tickets, a simple "I hope hyung has fun!!" was all he sent.

He decides not to overthink it, and takes out his phone to take a selfie of him, with Hyuna in the background talking to a fan of hers. He hunts for Navi's contact.

You [ 4:44 ] On the line to see Mizi. Thanks again for the tickets. [IMG.7347]

He closes his phone, ignoring the flutter in his stomach to focus on the experience at hand. It's almost time to go in.

The queue moves forward,

"Chill, Till. You've watched these events like a thousand times on livestreams, it's going to be fine." Hyuna says, after they're already seated in the auditorium. He's glad his fan was seated far away from them, since he'd feel awful if she watched him losing his cool like this.

"Okay, but what if I trip and fall right in front of her? What then?" Till frets, combing one hand through his hair. Hyuna rolls her eyes, opening her mouth to tease him some more when the lights dim and a manager comes on-stage to announce Mizi.

Till immediately forgets his nerves, leaning forward to watch better. Mizi walks on-stage already waving, a radiant smile on her face. She's dressed more casually than she usually is for shows, with her glasses on. Her long pink hair is left free, bouncing as she moves to say hi to everyone on the first roll.

Till doesn't even see Hyuna settle down, focused on Mizi. She does a little QNA, pointing at people to answer. Most questions are pretty simple, like how's Mizi's doing, what's her favorite song from the newest album, favorite snack, and so on. She even calls on Hyuna, who asks if Mizi likes video games.

(Apparently, she's an Animal Crossing player. Till is so endeared, he loves her, oh god.)

After that fanfare, she sits on the stage, legs dangling closer to the first row, and sings My Clematis with her guitar. She thanks everyone, asks for five minutes to get some water, and the fansign begins.

Till has... a vague idea of the hour or so that happened between then and his turn. He knows Hyuna leans in to talk to him, mindless chatter about their streams and their next collab, about how Luka's workflow is increasing so she's thinking of paying for another chat mod.

In the blink of an eye, he's sliding on a chair in front of Mizi, and out of the hundred times he's imagined this meeting, he'd never have though of this.

She squints at him, tilting her head to the side, and says; "Oh, you're Till, right? The streamer?"

Till's face is so hot he thinks he's going to die.

#writing #wip #ivantill #alien stage #you taste the silver

[fragmentedblade]

Not to be a jingfu on main, but it's so cute that Jing Yuan thought of Fu Xuan with those jelly beans

#me: the Xianzhou characters are all just coworkers #also me whenever anyone is shown to be fond and have intimate knowledge of some other character: awwww #Like Fu Xuan and Jing Yuan playing starchess and teasing each other or making a reference to things they like #or Jing Yuan talking about young Yukong #Quingque apparently disliking Fu Xuan but obviously that not being the case‚ knowing what she likes and how she thinks #Fu Xuan hiding that she has a sweet tooth but Jing Yuan and Quingque knowing it and teasing her for it #I don't know. There are a lot of instances of these small intimate details in the middle of what looks like a coworker relationship #Good coworkers‚ but coworkers nonetheless #And ironically it moves me so much? Even more so than Belobog. I've been told several times that Belobog seemed more tight. And I agree #In Belobog people were friends or family or companions but linked by something closer than mere coworkers with Wildfire #Even Sampo in the Underworld was strangely 'theirs'. He had the magenta colour of Wildfire and he was trusted to some extent #The Luofu characters don't have that. And yet the fragments of intimacy scattered through their interactions move me a lot #These are people who have known each other for centuries. Jing Yuan knows of Yukong's youth‚ its joy and grief #He knows Fu Xuan has a sweet tooth and teases her about her height. Quingque does too #Fu Xuan chastises both of them for being lazy but she knows they're smart and good at their job. She plays starchess with Jing Yuan #Quingque mocks Fu Xuan for being a workaholic but is very aware of the weight she carries both in her position and ideas about destiny #I won't mention Yanqing and Bailu because there is obviously more than a coworker bound when it comes to them #But yes I love the moments of intimate knowledge scattered through the Xianzhou‚ so telling of the fact that these people have known #each other for longer than several human lifetimes‚ and that perhaps they don't necessarily regard each other as more than their coworker #But perhaps that's enough in order for them to care. Perhaps in a lifetime over one thousand years the intimacy gained with a coworker #through several centuries is something beyond what we could understand in our decades lifespan #But also‚ perhaps‚ I don't know. Also‚ perhaps‚ the do care beyond coworkers in that strange line between work and friendship #Perhaps it's strange for Xianzhou natives to tell apart that kind of relationship after so much intimacy and knowledge through the years #And perhaps‚ once again‚ as it often happens for them‚ they think they'll always have enough time to tell; until they run out of it #They play chess together. Quingque can lose time because Fu Xuan can't stay mad if she brings her sweets. Are they just coworkers? #We play chess. I know what tea and sweets you like best. I brought them today since you would indulge me and play starchess with me #Thanks for playing with me‚ I'm running out of book puzzles. You keep divining my moves but I'll invent a fake story to distract you #Are we coworkers or something more like friends? Where is the line after so many years? #I talk too much but I love this charged nothingness haha I find it ironically so true to how many relationships in real life develop #And I find it so moving‚ that representation of this endearing smallness of everyday life. Of these small things is life made

[boyfrillish]

OMFG my head is super fried from lack of sleep but I just wrote over 900 words in a bit over an hour ADGAADFGADh the power of the silliest of silly fluffs, silly fluff of The OTP as personal bday treat from me for me ✨🥰💜❤

#crystext #i mean it when I say I have reawakened... back to churning out drabbles of silly HughNate fluff like it's 2013-14 #I have not stopped thinking about playground scenarios ever since I walked yesterday midday and walked by a neighbourhood playground #while an owl city song played that makes me think of them too ... #IT WOULD NOT LEAVE MY MIND #then I walked back home from the train earlier and mind cinema intensified!! I HAD TO!! WRITE!! IT!! #so there I went – right after doing my bday scouts in pokemas (sygna suit N did not come home nor did my other favest favs adgag) #they are just 🥹 so soft 🥹 all the warm feels 🥹 they are all things bright and beautiful #which is both a description and a reference to one of my fav albums that also makes me think of them adfgafdhgsfdhj #I need to confirm if I remembered their shipname right ... not that I am ready to post stuff yet adgafdh #also i have zero idea if the fandom also uses color coded emojis for ships i am just doing it from habit but with their xtransceiver colors #afgadaafdg one of these days ... I'll be ready to dip my toes into pkmn tags again ... it's been that long ... #and back in the day there was like zero food for my OTPs I literally had to provide for myself #either way it feels so good to be back i feel so many things at once afgagsfhsdfh #okay that's enough tag rambling it's 9pm now WHAT THE WHAT

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

A Week (He Will Take You)

~

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

~

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

~

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

~

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

~

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

~

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #prompt fill #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #dp #ghost #ghosts

[prettyboykatsuki]

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny III

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: none

a/n: hope you enjoy this one just as much as the others!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Part III

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“That was…weird,” Mor remarked.

You agreed. You had no idea what to make of Eris’s behavior. Feyre and Rhys seemed to be locked in a mental conversation, leaving the rest of you to silence. You rubbed at your arm, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. You didn’t want to create any problems for your sister but you also didn’t want to leave. 

“He had a point,” Rhys finally said before looking at you with those violet eyes that reminded you far too much of a certain pair of amber ones. They both held too many secrets. “But I don’t think Beron will prove to be much of a problem as long as we keep his focus on other things.”

Feyre nodded along. “Besides, what is Beron going to do about it, anyways? Short of killing us, there is nothing to be done.”

You felt a flicker of fear but pushed it down. Rhys was the most powerful High Lord. Surely he would defend you and your sister if it came down to it. Feyre was also powerful in her own right and could fight for herself but you…

“We won’t let any harm come to you,” Rhys promised, his voice softening. “And what did I say about keeping those mental shields up?”

You turned red and quickly slammed the gates to your mind closed. 

“I would like to stay,” you mumbled, sheepishly. “But I don’t want to cause problems.”

Mor waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. Eris talks out of his ass most of the time. He probably just wanted to put us on edge. You being here is not a problem, doll.” 

You didn’t feel comforted in the slightest.

“Well, if that's settled,” Rhys said, standing up. “I believe it is time for us to make our way towards the meeting room.”

You let out a breath, trying to settle your nerves from Eris’s display. Feyre gave you a small smile, linking her arm through yours. “Don’t look so nervous. There’s going to be some friendly faces in the crowd.”

You nodded, still feeling anxious about the whole thing. Although you hardly considered Vassa and Jurian your friends, at least you were familiar with them. Unfortunately, you were also familiar enough with Lord Nolan and his son.

Feyre placed her other hand in Rhys’s extended elbow and the two of them led you out of the chambers and into the wide corridor. Your breaths were still shaky once your group got to the staircase that would lead you to the meeting room with the reflection pool. 

Feyre unwrapped her arm from yours and Azriel stepped forward instead. 

“Azriel is going to escort you in,” she explained. “If you feel nervous, just stay by his side. Okay?”

You gave her a small nod and let them lead the way forward. When your group finally reached the top of the staircase, you were a bit relieved to see that the Autumn Court wasn’t present yet. Your eyes darted around the room, landing on all the various High Lords and their entourages, trying to place them in their respective courts. 

“That right there is Tarquin,” Azriel whispered from beside you, following your eyesight. “High Lord of Summer.” 

“And him?”

“Kallias, High Lord of Winter. His wife and mate, Vivianne, is the female next to him.” 

“Another High Lady?”

“Not quite,” Azriel answered. He inclined his head towards a different group. “That’s Helion, High Lord of the Day Court.” 

The male he nodded to was quickly approaching your group, a serpentine smile on his face. Gods, you were still not quite used to how beautiful the fae were. Helion looked like a God in his own right. His eyes passed over your group until they landed on you and lingered for a second longer. 

You watched as he greeted Feyre, Rhysand and Mor before turning his head towards you and Azriel. 

“Shadowsinger,” he nearly purred, “Always happy to see you.”

Azriel didn’t smile, didn’t move. In fact, he shot the High Lord an exasperated look as if this flirtatious behavior was all too common. That didn’t stop you from blushing when the High Lord looked at you and smiled coyly. 

“And who might you be?”

He reached out a hand but before you could open your mouth, the High Lord was suddenly knocked to the side, stumbling over himself. 

“My apologies, High Lord,” Eris sneered at Helion. “Perhaps you shouldn’t stand in the middle of a walkway.” 

Eris strode away before Helion could even respond, his brothers trailing after him, glaring around the room. Your jaw nearly dropped at his audacity but you quickly schooled your face, watching Helion glare at their backs. He seemed to shake off the encounter quickly, his charming persona snapping back into place as your sister came up on your side.

“Helion,” she said, “this is my sister, Y/n. She’s here to help us discuss the peace treaty with the humans.” 

Your introduction with Helion was short lived as Thesan called for the start of the meeting now that everyone was here. The first half of the meeting was just with the fae before the human leaders were to be brought in. Since you were primarily there for the humans, your thoughts drifted away as the fae leaders began their discussions. 

Your eyes trailed over all the courts—taking interest in how different each fae looked depending on where they came from. But your gaze kept falling on one fae in particular. The red headed male sat behind his daunting father. He hadn’t once looked in your direction. Part of you was glad for it, because it would be embarrassing to be caught blatantly staring at him as you were. Another part of you longed for him to look your way… You had no idea where that feeling came from. 

Eris was dressed far more formally than he had been the last two times you had seen him. He wore a dark green vest stitched with golden thread, tiny leaves embroidered along the seams, on top of a cream button up. A golden fox brooch was pinned at the neck of his collar, probably the Vanserra family’s emblem. His pants were an even darker green, almost appearing black and neatly tucked into his boots. Around his shoulders was a matching green cape coat embellished in gold detailing much like his vest. 

His red hair looked like a raging fire next to all the green, his pale skin glistening in the soft lighting of the room. He was so distractingly beautiful, even with that familiar haughty smirk on his face. It didn’t matter that there were far more powerful, commanding fae in the room. Your eyes could not keep off him. 

Like a moth to flame. 

Eris’s honey amber eyes finally met yours and you felt something snapped inside of you. You gasped as a golden thread unraveled within you and shot out across the room—all the way to the male seated across from you….all the way to Eris. 

Mate.

The word clanged through your head, drowning all other thoughts.

Mate.

Eris was your mate. 

In your shock, you missed the warning look Eris shot your way. You gasped, loudly, drawing the attention of the room as you stood so suddenly, your chair was knocked to the ground behind you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that golden thread thrumming with sparks of flame.

Your sister quickly rose from her seat, placing a hand on your upper arm to steady you. Azriel too had jumped up, his hand ghosting over Truth-teller, as if ready for whatever invisible threat was occuring.

Eris stood abruptly, almost panting. Your eyes never left those amber ones. Not even as they seemed to plead with you to sit, to hide, to disappear from this room entirely. 

“What’s wrong?” Feyre asked, her voice hurried and filled with concern. Her eyes followed your line of sight and darted back to you and down to the hand you held to your chest. 

Rhysand seemed to catch on to what was happening quicker. 

“Azriel, get her out of here,” he ordered the shadowsinger. 

A scarred hand wrapped around yours and a second later, you were engulfed in a wave of shadows.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“Rhysand,” Thesan said, “Please answer for that display. What antics have occurred in your court to disrupt such a meeting?” 

Feyre’s hands were shaking as Rhysand latched onto them, guiding her back to her chair softly. “Apologies, Y/n is still a bit sensitive to magic since coming out of the cauldron. You’ll have to forgive her sudden departure.” 

“And here I thought you had moved on from your lying and deceiving ways, Rhysand,” Beron jumped in, his voice filled with wicked amusement. “It appears a congratulation is in order.” He turned to face his son. “It seems to me that a mating bond has just snapped into place.” 

Eris’s face was unreadable as he sat back down, fists clenched at his sides. 

“Explain yourselves,” Tarquin interjected, looking bemused. “How do you have another Made female in your court, Rhysand?”

“She is my sister,” Feyre declared. “And she was there the day Hybern forced all of them into the cauldron.”

“Why was she not included in the reports from that day?” Thesan asked, sitting up straighter.

“She was under our protection,” Rhysand answered. “She was hardly more than a child at the time.” 

“Liar. She never came out of the cauldron,” Tamlin said, sharply, eyes narrowing. “Your reports never included her because she never came out of the cauldron that day.”

“Well, considering you all just saw her alive and in person,” Rhysand shrugged, picking a piece of lint from his coat. “Obviously, she did. Perhaps your head was too far up Hybern’s ass to see.”

Tamlin growled but was cut off by Beron. 

“Where have you taken my son’s mate?” Beron demanded. 

“That is none of your concern.”

“Rhysand, you cannot possibly keep her away from her mate,” Thesan said. “He is entitled—”

“He is entitled to nothing,” Feyre snapped. “The Night Court does not force females to accept mating bonds. As she falls under our jurisdiction, she has our full protection against any of your antiquated beliefs.” 

“Leave it to the Night Court to spit on traditions,” Beron hissed. “A mating bond works both ways. As the other half falls under my jurisdiction, my son has all the right to invoke a blood duel if you wish to keep her from him.” 

The Lady of Autumn looked alarmed at her husband’s words but said nothing. Neither did Eris, who seemed to be choosing his next moves very carefully. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time the Night Court stole a female away,” Tamlin said, sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh please, spare us from revisiting your despair,” Helion chuckled, humorlessly. 

“Have we all forgotten why we are here today?” Kallias cut in, his tone cold. “Must we argue over something that does not involve the rest of our courts? This meeting has already been derailed and some of us have better things to do with our time then listen to squabbles.” 

“This is not over, Rhysand,” Beron hissed. Eris still sat stoically behind his father, not faltering in the slightest. “You and I have much to discuss after we deal with the humans lest you wish to start a conflict between our courts.” 

“Fine,” Rhysand growled. “But prepare yourself and your son for disappointment.” 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You paced in the sitting room in the River House, your heart still beating rapidly, your thoughts out of control. A mating bond. A godsdamn mating bond had snapped between you and Eris of all people. Eris, the male whose reputation followed him like darkened clouds. Eris, the male who had left Mor to die in the woods all those years ago. Eris, the Heir of Autumn, the son of one of the most ruthless fae in all of Prythian. 

Surely it was a mistake. It had to be. 

“Why don’t you sit down?” Elain suggested, gently, patting the cushion beside her on the couch. “Feyre will get it all sorted out. You needn’t worry so much.” 

“How can I not worry? How can I not worry when Eris of all people is my mate, Elain?” You rubbed at your chest, already feeling an emptiness there now that you had been separated from him. “This must be a mistake. A trick, perhaps?” 

“Perhaps,” Elain agreed, though she didn’t sound like she believed it for one second. “But there’s not much you can do about it now. Not until they return from the meeting.” 

You let out a long breath and plopped onto the couch next to her. Elain brushed a hand through your hair, guiding you to lay down on her lap. “It’ll be okay, Y/n. A mating bond isn’t the end of all things. Feyre would never let that male get his hands on you.” 

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Some part of you wanted that male. Not the Eris that the others saw. But the one you had seen in those secret moments between the two of you. The alluring fox behind the mask. 

Your heart sang for him now that the mating bond had snapped into place. He hadn’t seemed surprised in the slightest….like he had already known about it. Had it snapped for him? Had he known this whole time that you were his mate? Why wouldn’t he tell you? Maybe…

maybe he didn’t want you…

Hours went by. The whole night passed. You didn’t stray from the couch, neither did Elain. You appreciated your sister comforting you. You wished Nesta wasn’t on her mating vacation and was here to help you as well…maybe she would know what to do.

The door to the house opening had you sitting up, rubbing at your red rimmed eyes. Elain woke abruptly as well, wiping the drool that was dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Feyre, Rhysand and Mor strode in, all looking just as exhausted as you.

“Well, I’m glad that shitshow is over,” Mor said, falling on one of the settees dramatically. 

A second later, Amren and Azriel came into the room, both wearing unreadable expressions. Amren’s silver eyes studied you for a moment before moving to Feyre and Rhysand.

“How’d it go?”

“Awful,” Rhysand sighed. “No one could come to an agreement.”

“Did the humans not want to sign?” You asked, purposefully avoiding the other topic. 

Feyre shook her head. “No, they were…even less receptive than we thought they’d be.” 

“What happens now?” Elain asked.

“We go through that again and again, I suppose,” Rhys answered. “Until a peace treaty is signed.” 

The room fell into a heavy silence until you broke it, minutes later.

“And…and what of…” You trailed off, unable to say the words, unable to ask about the male that had been on your mind since you had been whisked away from the meeting. 

“Beron will be visiting the Court of Nightmares tomorrow,” Rhys said, hesitantly, gauging your emotions. “To discuss what is to be done. It is unfortunate that he knows about the bond now because there is little Eris can do as long as his father is in power.”

“He can finally kill the bastard,” Mor grumbled into a pillow. 

“We must tread carefully,” Amren said. “If Eris is forced to call for a blood duel against Rhysand, he will die and one of his brutish brothers will be next in line for the throne.” 

“What!” You exclaimed. “A blood duel? Would he…would he really do that? Fight Rhysand even if it means certain death?” 

Eris was powerful, sure. But he was still only an heir, not a full blown High Lord like Rhysand. He would be misted in seconds. Just that thought of it sent you into a panic.

“I’ll fight him in your place,” Azriel said, darkly, looking at Rhys but he shook his head.

“We cannot risk that,” Rhys said. 

“Do you really think Beron would have his own son fight and die in a blood duel?” Feyre asked. 

“Of course he would. One less person he has to keep off his throne,” Amren said.

“He’s a monster,” Elain whispered, staring at you with concern. 

“Yes, he is,” Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So we must do as Amren said and tread very carefully.” 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

The next day, you stood in the foyer of the River House, dressed in a simple dark blue, silk dress. Your stomach was tossing and turning with nerves, scared of what would happen during this meeting with Beron. You hated that you were causing your sister and Rhysand so much stress, hated that you were in the middle of this conflict. 

You wished you could turn back time. Wished you could go back to that moment the mating bond snapped so you could hide the realization better. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve and it had finally bit you in the ass. 

You had no idea how today was going to play out.

You were certain of one thing, though. You ached to see Eris again. The mating bond had nearly kept you up all night. Feyre had tried teaching you how to block if off, but it was hard. Eris seemed to have no problem keeping his side of the bond locked down. It infuriated you to know he was probably feeling every single emotion from you. 

“Are you ready?” Rhys asked as Feyre, Mor and Azriel slid into view. 

Rhys and Feyre were dressed like they always were when making trips to Hewn City. Mor wore a scandalous red dress that clung to her beautiful curves and Azriel wore his Illyrian leathers, as per usual, all seven siphons on display. 

You nodded, unable to even speak.

The next hour seemed to happen while you were stuck in a daze. Rhys winnowed you all to Hewn City and led you into the throne room where everyone was waiting. Word must’ve spread quickly of what had occurred. Keir escorted Beron and Eris into the throne room after the formalities were done.

You couldn’t find the nerve to look at Eris now that you were in the same room. You had shown your hand during that meeting and had caused an avalanche to fall in its wake. You felt guilty, ashamed and scared…so scared. 

A dumb bunny, indeed. 

Rhys and Feyre led you all to a private meeting room, shutting the door in Keir’s face as he tried to join. You sat, hiding your shaking hands in your lap, keeping your eyes on the floor. 

“Well, I assume you have come to your senses by now,” Beron said, leaning back in his chair as if he commanded the room. “The girl comes with us. The Night Court owes Autumn a bride as it is.”

His glare focused on Mor for a moment and she scoffed in his direction. 

“Not so fast, Beron,” Rhysand tsked, pouring himself a glass of wine. “We don’t owe you anything. It was your court that ultimately broke the marriage agreement all those years ago.” 

Beron sat up with a sneer. “I believe it was broken the moment that girl decided to whore herself out to an Illyrian bastard of all people.”

You tensed in your seat, gripping the dress in your fists.

“Father, please,” Eris sighed, making you look up at him finally. 

Beron glanced at his son before turning back to Rhysand. “You should be overjoyed that we’re willing to take the girl as it is, considering the beasts in your court have probably ran through her already.”

“Watch your mouth,” Feyre snapped.

The smell of burning wood filled the room and Eris flexed his hands, new scorch marks on the table underneath them. “Don’t speak of her like that.”

Beron laughed. It was an awful sound. “Right, my apologies, son. Don’t worry, those mating instincts will go away once you’ve fucked her for a near century.”

Your face turned bright red at the crude words. Eris growled. The sound was so primitive, so animalistic. It sent chills down your spine. Even Beron looked unnerved for a moment.

“You are not winning yourself any favors,” Rhysand purred, smirking at the older male. “Have you any dignity?”

“Have you?” Beron bit back. “You all but spit on the face of the Mother by keeping her away from her mate. This is more of a blessing for you then it is us. A marriage alliance with Autumn, one you do not deserve that we are graciously offering.”

“Let me make myself clear, Beron, since you refuse to listen,” Rhysand snapped. “Our court has no laws that require a female to accept a bond. You would really go to war over something like this? While our courts are still recovering from the last one?”

Rhys and Feyre had theorized that Beron was so adamant about forcing you into the bond not because he cared for his son, but for two other reasons. One, you were Made. They had all seen how powerful Nesta was because of it and Beron craved power above all else.

Two, it was another way to keep Eris in check. To dangle you over his head as a threat. 

“Perhaps we should ask what she wants,” Mor interjected.

“What she wants does not matter,” Beron snarled. “She is mated to an Autumn male, by our laws she must accept.”

“She is a resident of our court,” Feyre argued back. “She does not have to accept it.”

“Then you leave us no choice,” Beron said, rising from his seat. He planted his palms on the table, staring at you all of a sudden. You crumbled into yourself. “Is that what you want, girl? You want us to declare a blood duel against your family?”

You shook your head as Rhysand stood, slamming his own hands on the table. “You would have your son fight in a blood duel against me, a High Lord?”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be against you,” Beron laughed, cruelly. His eyes fell on Feyre. “And it wouldn’t be my son. I will demand a blood duel against your mate. A mate for a mate. Very fitting, don’t you agree?”

Feyre versus Beron…. That bastard had planned this. You’d all been so concerned with Eris declaring a blood duel you didn’t even realize this would be a way Beron could kill Feyre as he wished in a legal way—as barbaric as it was.

And most of the other courts held the mating bond in such regard, you wondered if you’d find any allies against him for doing this beside Helion. 

Rhysand growled, darkness leaking off of him,

“And I will just fight you in her place.”

Beron smiled. “Oh, but you see, you can’t. Once a blood duel has been declared you either surrender to the terms or fight. I don’t know where you got your information from but there are no place holders allowed.” 

Your heart was racing in your chest. 

Silence fell so heavy in the room your ears were ringing. All of this was all your fault. You felt tears line your eyes. You couldn’t let Feyre fight for you. You wouldn’t. Even though she could probably hold her own against him, he was ages older than her—more battle worn. She’d be at a huge disadvantage.

And Eris couldn’t do anything about this, not if it was his father who wished to fight a blood duel. He couldn’t order his father not to. 

You couldn’t let her do this. You owed your life to her, you owed everything to her. It was time to start fighting your own battles. 

“I’ll go,” you whispered, so quietly you wondered if you had even said the words out loud. “I’ll go.”

Feyre’s head whipped to you. “No, absolutely not.”

But you shook your head. “I do not want anyone fighting on my behalf. I will go with them.”

Beron’s grin grew into one that could rival the devil himself.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“We will find a way out of this,” Feyre whispered into your ear as she hugged you. “I promise. Just hold out for us, okay? We’ll get you out of there.”

You nodded, pulling away to brush the tears off her cheek. You weren’t even going to be able to say goodbye to Elain and Nesta. Beron was demanding that you leave right away. 

“I’ll be okay, Fey,” you murmured to her. 

“Enough of the dramatics,” Beron called out. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Eris didn’t look at you as he held out a hand. You swallowed audibly and walked to his side, grasping it softly. You spared one last glance at your sister before you were winnowed out of Hewn City and into the den of foxes.

“Come here, girl,” Beron barked, now standing before his throne. “Let me get a look at you.”

You glanced at Eris but he just stood there, stoically, not meeting your gaze. You walked towards Beron, trying not to shake in fear. 

The older male grasped your chin in his hand, turning your face from side to side as he examined you. Eris’s other brothers stood at the bottom of the dais, their wolfish grins doing little to make you less nervous. The Lady of Autumn was seated in a small chair to the side of the throne, her eyes not lifting from the floor. 

“You look just like my other son’s mate,” he remarked. “Smaller, though. The runt of the family, I’m assuming. Pity. Were you not fed properly as a child?” 

You weren’t even sure how to reply to that. You decided not to respond and Beron’s eyes narrowed. 

“Hmm,” he mused, finally letting go of you. “Have you sullied yourself with those beasts?” 

“Father,” Eris growled, stepping up next to you. “That is enough.” 

Beron chuckled, mirthlessly, waving a dismissive hand. “Fine, take her away and get her out of those whorish clothes.”

Eris grabbed you by your upper arm and dragged you out of the throne room. You had to walk quickly, trying to keep up with his long legs as he led you down corridor after corridor. The Forest House was magnificent, beautiful. It was a shame that someone like Beron ran this court, you thought, as you studied the place. 

Eris finally stopped in front of a room, yanking the door open and pushing you inside. You glared at him as he slammed the door shut behind him, crossing your arms. You were inside of a huge suite, it seemed. A lavish sitting room, with two doors on either side, likely leading to a bedroom and bathing chamber. 

“These are my quarters,” Eris explained as he shrugged off his cape coat and tossed it on the red, velvet couch. He began to unbutton his vest as he faced you. “You are to stay here. Do not leave without an escort. Tomorrow, I will assign you two handmaidens to help you.” 

Your eyes widened. “I’m…I’m meant to stay here…in your room?” 

Eris let out a long sigh. “It is the safest place for you and I do not want to risk rumors.” 

“B-but surely this is improper,” you stuttered. “We are not properly mated.” 

Eris let out a cruel laugh. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t made such a spectacle at the High Lords’ meeting so don’t start complaining to me.” 

You felt a flare of anger. 

“You knew,” you grumbled. “You knew about the mating bond between us and you didn’t tell me! Perhaps if you had told me, I wouldn’t have even been in that room! I would’ve stayed home.” 

“Unlikely,” Eris sneered, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from a decanter on a bar cart behind the couch. He chugged the drink down, loosening his collar with his other hand. “You don’t seem to have a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours, bunny. Did you ever stop to think about why I might be hiding it?”

“You are such a prick,” you snapped. “I am not one of your little pawns. I am not a part of your stupid games! You should have told me!”

You went to whirl around but Eris grabbed your wrist, dragging you closer to him. You glared up at him, ignoring the way his heat enveloped you in its embrace. 

“This is not a game to me,” Eris growled. “Have you any idea what you’ve cost me? Have you any idea what he will do to you if I so much as take a single step out of line now?”

You yanked your wrist out of his grip. “Have you any idea what this has cost me? I’m the one who's been forced out of my home—forced to come here!” 

“And who’s fault is that?” 

Eris slammed the empty glass down on the cart. 

“Gods, sorry I couldn’t read your oh-so-clever mind! Sorry I couldn’t act like an emotionless shell of a person like you!” 

“Watch how you speak to me,” Eris snarled. “I can make your life here a living hell, bunny.”

“I’m not scared of you, Eris,” you snapped. “You don’t fool me. I see the real you under that mask and you know what I think—I think it is you who is scared.”

Eris ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You know nothing. Do you understand? Nothing.”

“Then tell me! Tell me so I can help you! I know you do not wish to see your father in power much longer. Let me help!”

Eris grabbed your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. You hated how cold his amber eyes looked.

“No. Absolutely not. I will not involve you in the slightest,” he snarled before his eyes softened and his hand slipped to cup your cheek instead. “I cannot…I cannot bear to see this place make you cruel. Stay here, where you’ll be safe, bunny. Leave everything else to me. You were not made for this place. But me…You have no idea what kind of monster I can be.”

Eris’s hand dropped back to his side and he stepped away from you, heading towards the door. You were breathing so heavily, your lungs constricting your ribs against the dress you wore. 

“Can we talk about this? Please!”

He said nothing, reaching for the handle of the door. 

“Eris, please!”

His hand fell against the doorframe, flame licking at the wood—scorching it again. A growl rumbled through his chest and his head hung between his shoulders but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look at you.

“Do not,” he groaned. “Do not say my name like that.” 

And then he was gone, leaving you completely alone. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

When you woke up later that night, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room. You sat up, realizing you were laying in a bed. You were certain you had fallen asleep on the couch, not wanting to even go into Eris’s bedroom.

The silk, dark orange sheets next to you were undisturbed. You rubbed at your eyes, getting up from under the covers. You were still in the dress you had fallen asleep in.

You padded over to the door, opening it slowly. You took two steps into the sitting room before you froze in your spot. 

There, on the couch, was Eris. The fireplace was roaring in front of him as he slept, a lump on the floor by his feet. You blinked away the blurriness in your eyes to see what it was.

Ashera was curled up there, the dog you had met that day you had accidentally winnowed into the forest here. She slept soundly on the floor next to him. 

You stepped back into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, quietly, not wanting to disturb them. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris fanfic #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra #eris x reader #autumn court #archeron sisters #eris x archeron!reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fic

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Savanaclaw dorm (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

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Leona's ideal type would be...

Someone who knows themselves and their worth. Leona might be apathetic and somewhat lazy, but he knows exactly what he's capable of. While he is willing to nudge people in the right direction, he doesn't want to deal with any dead weight.

Someone who doesn't take things at face value. He thinks having people who do what he wants are an advantage, but he doesn't think highly of any brainless followers. You are allowed to question him, disagree with him, even completely go against him. You also can disagree whenever he says he's "fine" and "just tired" whenever he's been skipping classes for too many days in a row, and there's an unopened letter from Falena on his desk.

Someone who doesn't mock his sleeping habits. Leona has some chaoric sleeping patterns, and he often doesn't sleep for a full night. If he says it's naptime, then it's naptime, and you don't get to do more than playfully argue. He'll also allow you to join him if you keep quiet enough.

Someone who doesn't belittle him. He knows he will never be enough. He knows he's just a second choice, if not less than that. He knows that he will not always be your top priority. And he doesn't believe you when you say or prove to him otherwise. But it's the first time he enjoys seeing someone try to prove him wrong.

『••✎••』

Jack's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't share his black and white way of thinking. Jack had a very rigid code of conduct, and he sticks to it religiously. While his views can't always be challenged, he likes the idea that regardless of your way of thinking you're still willing to understand him, and he's willing to do the same.

Someone who wants a serious relationship. As a wolf beastman and a witness of the dedicated love the generations before him showed, Jack has some very idealised expectations for his love life. He doesn't jump into relationships right away, and he's open with what he wants from the very beginning of your relationship. lf you stick around, he'll take it you feel the same.

Someone who is more of a realist. Jack finds enjoyment in becoming the best version of himself on all levels. Yet, he struggles to keep an open mind when he's decided to do something. Reminding him to give up on his tunnel vision from time to time and see the bigger picture brings him back to reality and makes him feel thankful for you and your ability to remind him to be a bit more real with his plans.

Someone he can care for. This is not a matter of size or personality, and while Jack knows you'll always have his back, it's very important for him to feel like he's also protecting you. Some of it does stem from his view on relationships, but he also likes caring for people. Let him brush your hair after he grooms his fur, or let him reach for that one book you need that's just out if reach.

『••✎••』

Ruggie'a ideal type would be...

Someone who saves leftovers for him. This is kind of obvious: Ruggie has some bad food anxiety, because he grew up not really knowing when his next meal would be. Someone who helps him soothe some of that anxiety will make his heart feel fluttery.

Someone that sticks with him through thick and thin. Spotted hyenas stick together in clans and have a very strict hyerarchy. However, Ruggie is also an opportunist, and you can't expect him to always stand by your side if you don't do the same. Unwavering loyalty has to be at the base of your relationship no matter what, and don't let it falter once you reach that point.

Someone who doesn't let him rely too much on his bad habits. And by that I mean mostly his pickpocketing habits. Yeah, you can't really stop him from stealing from Leona's wallet whenever he gets ahold of it, but he'll remember you made him a sweather! You gifted him a blanket! You invited him over for dinner! Okay, maybe he has himself somewhat covered already, shyehehehehe.

Someone who loves unconditionally. Everytime you show him affection without really expecting anything in return, his mind goes back to the days when he was little, and his grams told him stories about love that conquered all, love that made everything easier. He never thought of himself as worthy of that type of love.... But with you in his arms and head on his chest, then maybe... just maybe...

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader

[wandasfifthwife]

finding you ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

— wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || discussions of sexual acts/kinks but nothing (yet), reader deals with stress/anxiety, dom/sub dynamic/relationship, dom natasha/wanda w/ sub reader, reader’s personality is described to be shy/anxious/introverted, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference 😭

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.2k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

The city was truly a different world at night just with the way everything seems to take a breath of life. It was cooler, a breeze making its way through the buildings to cause goosebumps on any person walking by. It was cold enough that your friend had thought to try and hurdle you under their jacket, something you forgot to bring.

They didn’t seem to mind, pulling you under the warm blanket of a coat and rushing the two of you towards your apartment. You had just finished dinner—using it as a way to bond and meet up since work has separated you both for too long—and now we’re heading back to your apartment.

“You’re back,” one of your roommates speaks up from their location on the couch, “how was dinner?”

“Great, but I was freezing. You were right about bringing a jacket tonight, I really should’ve.”

“The winds tunnel through these buildings, it’s always good to pack a jacket.”

“Yes well thank you. Is it alright if my friend stays over?”

Your roommates waves a hand, dismissing her claim and focusing back on the tv show. The sounds of whatever bachelor show was playing quiets once you’ve shut your door behind you.

Your friend pins you with a look as she lays down flat into your bed, “what’s the deal with that person from work?”

“It’s really nothing, I think some people are just going through a rough time.”

“Okay well whatever—babe, it’s still not okay.”

There’s a creak in your bed once you’ve decided to join her, the old thing hanging on since you’ve not been able to afford a new one.

“Yeah sure they’ve made some rude comments, but they weren’t that bad.”

“Not to mention they also stole your idea and they’ve been aggressive towards you for no reason—tell them that they’re being a bitch.”

The emotions liked to confrontation are like sinking to the bottom of a body of water, suffocating. Your friend lies beside you, waiting, but her raised eyebrows give away her impatience, waiting to argue with you over your hesitation. A sigh makes it way out, a vocalization of how you’re feeling on the inside, “I really don’t know if I need to.”

“It’s less of a have to and more of a should do. Just be a bitch back,” she makes a poor attempt at reeling in her aggression after your expression of disgust, “or at least talk to someone higher up.”

“I’ll maybe talk to someone later—“ you put a hand up to silence her oncoming attack “—and that’s it. I appreciate you caring.”

“I just want you to be able to stand up for yourself.”

“I know, and I love you for that, but I’m done with stressful topics. I’d like to just talk about exciting things.”

She deadpans, “but this fun.”

A laugh filled amusement fills the room, your foot coming to shove her. There’s a pause after, ears turning into the smaller and more minute sounds. Dramatic stage music, though silenced by your door, it’s loud enough to still make an entrance in your room along with the sirens outside. The sheets rustle as your friend moves onto her side, body facing towards you. It was a gentle breeze until she began to fight off a grin, the thoughts in her mind almost driving a crazed expression in her face.

“Have you thought anymore about what I said?”

“You talk a lot, which of those many conversations are you mentioning?”

“The stress-relieving one.”

The words are quick to bring a similar crazed expression on your own face, one similar to your friend’s but more terrified.

“No.”

“Aw come on. I do it and it’s worked wonders, I still know—“

“I’ve heard enough for one night, you’re too public with it—how’re you not embarrassed?”

She rolls, resting her head on you, “you’re shy, I’m not. I don’t care what others say.”

“You’re weird.”

Her shoulders upturned in a shrugging motion, the vibration from her low hum ticking your stomach. The floor creeks again when she slings her feet off the mattress to find something to eat, leaving you alone for a minute. It seemed to stretch forever due to waiting every second to ask her a burning question. It was nearly on fire when she finally came back, the words tumbling from you.

“Who’re the people?”

It was, technically, four words that set off an hour and a half conversation.

Your friend’s persistently paid off after about two months of bringing it up. It started out as a question to check up, formed into a joke/tease, and ended up as a proposal. You’ve eventually thawed, only tonight feeling comfortable enough to ask, allowing yourself to be curious. It was curiosity, but you strayed far away from any sexual conversations, feeling that topic would actually throw you over the edge.

You pick at your nails, a nervous habit to ease the discomfort of the vulnerable conversation, “what do you do?”

“You mean my role? It’s what I said before, I’m a dominant in our relationship.”

“How often do you do it?”

“Sex?”

Her hand swats at your shoulder, enabling your fidgeting to become actions of aggression. You shove back, “fuck off.”

“Anyways, it depends on each relationship, but for us we fall into it most nights. Usually they come home and I can pick up the signs. I came to understand their body language about a month after us dating that they’re feeling a specific way.”

“Too intimate.”

“Oh yeah, it’s intimate and entirely built on trust. It’s why I love it so much,” your friend reached a hand over, stretching to reach until her fingers wrap around her phone, “I’ll send you their number. It’s entirely up to you from this point on. But genuinely though, if anything I say is making you uncomfortable let me know. I truly have just wanted to help.”

It wasn’t brought up again. An episode of some old show capturing the both of your attention the rest of the night, her scratchy laugh engraved in your mind from how often she found the dialogue hilarious. A small red mark forming from when she got too excited, jumping on the bed and bouncing your body to move and hit a dull item nearby. Thankfully you don’t have neighbors that occupy the room below you.

It was a sad goodbye when you both had the knowledge of how busy your schedules were. You had a form of contact, your phone, but you didn’t always have access to her in person. The lights in the apartment were shut off, the dark almost navy hue covers the room. You clicked your phone on, squinting from the onset of light before checking your recent text from her, “their” contact information sitting open on your phone for the night.

It turned out to be a weak battle, with the conflict being between man vs man. You had daily arguments with yourself, both sides—heart and mind—fighting with valid reasons. You don’t know if they’d be a weirdo overtime. They could not win your trust, or understand you, step over you like your coworker at work has been.

It could be a waste of time to be so intimate with someone and have the time come to a close, so you make a new space in your contacts for their number. You had a simple message typed out, introducing yourself and how you got their number, and then prompt turned your phone off.

The waiting period consumed you.

Brushing your teeth, you’d flip your phone to find that the notification was another spam email from a store you visited two years ago, reminding you to unsubscribe yet again. At work, you’d even pulled your phone from where it rested under your thigh to check whenever it buzzed. It was impossible to deny when the evidence was written all over your face, but you liked to believe you didn’t care.

The earth spun a whole two times and you’d still gotten no response. You checked your phone less, initial nerves transforming right into worry. Were you bothering them?

“Stop fretting,” your friend told you over the phone and then proceeding to let out a laugh at your embarrassed rant, all about how you regret reaching out.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have hooked you up if I thought they weren’t interested. It’s barely been two days.”

“You’re right,” your phone sat across from you, giving you the perfect view to stare at her personalized contact photo,

“Give it time.”

You had another speech about to spill about how you’re not going to obsessively check anymore, but that buzzed sound you’ve grown to respond to rapped against your wooden table.

Your lungs contract, closing when a contact with no profile photo and definitely no name appears. Your friend’s voice becoming background noise as your focus snaps to the unopened message, watching it as it slides away.

“Okay well I have to sleep. Love you, stop freaking out.”

The call ends abruptly, a habit of hers you’re usually frustrated with but now you’re grateful. Nerves at a new high for the day when a second message comes in. Feet patter on the hound, carrying you to climb into your room.

Realizing they’ve messaged you back is both an energy drainer and giver. Lights bright on your face while you’re unlocking your phone, clicking on the chat button. Your mind makes up the worst scenarios in hopes to keep your expectations low, but as your eyes sweep across the text a smile appeared on your face.

Long text summarized, they’d love to meet you in person and brief information was shared. They’d agreed to meet halfway at a coffee shop in Manhattan named, “coffee project nyc.”

The closest subway station was swarmed with a dozen people, the time on your phone being the explanation behind why others were brushing against you on the train. They contained to when after the train had arrived, pulling you along with them like a terrible tide.

Your phone map is a virtue, showing you the route until the cafe is in sight just across the street. It was across the street but your feet were stuck to the side you were on. Seconds passed like milliseconds, speeding up like your breathing.

The door had a little bell, one that rang when you walk through and sit down at the closest open seat to you. Eyes set on your phone screen like you were doing something meaningful by scrolling through already opened texts.

A new text appeared, a statement, telling you that they’d arrive. It wasn’t the intention, but you realized you hadn’t told them you had also arrived. The bell rung as it did for you, signaling to you and the others in the building that another had entered.

Her tone was clear when she spoke to you, leaning so she can look at your eyes. An air of calm around her when she introduced herself, saying how nice it was to meet in person.

“Is there anything you’d like from here? Natasha’s in line to get herself something.”

“Oh no,” you internally wince at how high your tone is pitched, “I’ll just pay for my own later!”

“It’s on us if you’d like any,” she repeats the offer with a smile. The scent from all the coffee beans and tea leaves is too addicting, filling your senses and pulling at the right heart strings to make you weak.

“If it’s okay could I maybe get a tea?”

“That’s perfectly fine. Natasha hasn’t ordered you yet, you can go tell her your order,” she says, words emphasized by her finger directing you to find the women fifth in line. An apology comes out as a whisper, feeling bad when you have to cut between two people holding a conversation.

“Hi,” you breathe, feeling nervous about being pushed to her warm body by those in line and others trying to move about.

“Breathe,” she says, pausing your sentence until she’s seen you visibly take a breath.

“Sorry,” you say, the unwarranted apology causing her eyebrows to furrow.

“Why sorry? You don’t have any reason to be.”

You say it again but she makes no pays if no mind, a gentle hand coming to rest under your forearm.

“Would you like something?“

The words you had spoken to wanda are repeated, asking about ordering a tea with another apology following right after. You fear she’s upset, but every movement she makes is kind, soft.

“You don’t have to apologize. Go wait with Wanda, I’ll bring it over once it’s made, okay?”

You thank her what feels like ten times, hoping each one is more sincere than the other before stepping away, mindful of the kicked up carpet. Wanda’s smiling at you, reaching over to push your chair out.

“Did you get a tea?”

“I did, thank you two—seriously—I appreciate this.”

Her response comes out as a hum, the words, ‘of course,’ mended together through the one sound, “how was your ride over? You mentioned the trip only being a few minutes, correct?”

“Usually yes.”

“Have you been here before then?”

“Not really, I don’t go out often. If I did I’d ruin my budget plan.”

The smell of the store is amplified once the cup is placed in front of you, the gentle steam floating off the top smelling exactly like the aroma in the small room. The seat to the right of you is pulled out, taken by Natasha a second later. Hers smells of coffee, a darker roast you’re familiar with from one of your roommates making it in the morning.

She picks through the sugars on the table, ignoring Wanda’s advice to leave the sweetness alone; Wanda mentions again how it impairs her dreams, giving her terrible nightmares instead. Natasha acknowledges what she says and still pours two in, her defense being the brand labeling itself as a ‘natural sugar’ as opposed to some other popular companies.

You turn to Wanda, “do you like to drink coffee or tea?”

“I do,” she says, fingers brushing under yours to stabilize the tilting hold you had on the cup, “every now and then I’ll get a tea.”

She quirks a quick smile, the mood fading fast once she’s turned her attention to Natasha and how bright the coffee has become. Natasha pulls the cup away from her extending grasp, bringing the cup to her lips with a grin.

“Do you work?”

“I do! I work in marketing at a real estate company, basically meaning I create pamphlets and design their websites. Do either of you have a job?”

Natasha keeps the mug in her hands, not letting go despite the heat, “we do. I work as a mechanical engineering, Wanda’s does corporate finances.”

You later worry about how your emotions are written on your sleeve seeing how they noticed the slightest change in your body language. Wanda lets her hand drift off of yours seeing as you’re now paying attention to how you’re holding it, “what do you do?”

“Nothing crazy like that. I sell art pieces, occasionally teach somewhere like an art class or work as a substitute for a school if needed.”

“Did you go to school for art?”

“I did, somehow passed to with how strict a few teachers were.”

They then ask to see a piece you’ve done, listening to every word you’re saying on every detail of each individual piece. You show ones you’ve sold, ones you’ve given as gifts to friends/family members, and some you’ve painted for yourself. You ease into the moment with every passing minute, tense muscles and fidgeting movements calming.

The room is small, but busy. A multitude of conversations being held in one place, all forming and coming together like the infamous background ambiance.

A watch on Wanda’s wrist catches light when she flicks her sleeve down to check the time, a deep sigh coming from her when she realizes it’s past 9:30PM, “it’s getting late.”

Natasha hums, grabbing your cups and stacking them to take to the dish bins nearby. You stand when she does, grabbing your coat to toss over your shoulders.

“We can walk you home if you’d like, it is quite dark out.”

You take a glance as well, the scarcity of light on the street enough for you to accept her help. The sidewalks are small, pushing you to walk so close to them you’ve stepped on Natasha’s shoes two times already. They keep close to you, sitting beside you in the subway ride. You’ve told them that you’re grateful they’ve offered to walk you back, but that you also feel bad for taking up their time. They keep reassuring you, every time gentle, if not gentler than the last.

The street becomes familiar again, the lights from your balcony coming into view. The little store building with the apartment complex above it, your little home. It’s never fully quiet, but at this minute in the hour it almost feels like it’s just the three of you. An occasional car, bike, and stranger may walk by, but you barely notice.

“Would you like to see my apartment?”

“I wouldn’t mind a tour,” wanda says, her words making you smile and excitedly being to unlock the door. It’s late enough that either your roommates are out or asleep, leaving you and them to walk into a silent space. It’s entirely too quick tour; only showing them your balcony, bedroom, living room, and kitchen while trying to be quiet for the one roommate trying to sleep.

Wanda calls your name, finding you in your bedroom after hearing where your voice came from and following it. Your room is reflectively dark, only light source coming from the dim lamp by your bed. The one you’ve been meaning to repair.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m good, a bit tired.”

“I mean about this.”

Your lips fall slightly ajar, taken a bit off guard. She’s not rushing you at all, leaning against your vanity. She’s even gone far enough to not make you even more nervous by moving her gaze anywhere but you.

“I—“ you freeze momentarily when you realize Natasha’s come to stand in your doorway, “I’d like to if that’s okay with you.”

“We’d love to. Later tonight I can send you some papers for you to look over whenever you feel ready.”

You nod, thanking them with a smile. They bid you goodnight, both mumbling sweet words about the night. They both pull you into them, wrapping their arms around you in a gentle embrace before pulling back. You’re inside with heating AC and yet when they pulled back you felt colder.

Once the doors shut, the rooms entirely too quiet, the silence emphasizing the emptiness of their disappearance. They already made an impression, their good nights making you feel twice elated. It shows in your night routine, a smile etched on your face from the night. How beautiful they are, how someone they wished to also see you again, how they were mindful and intentional.

You had gotten dressed, wrapped up in your sheets with your phone settled between you, scrolling through the sweet text they sent after and the documents. The first were fine, but the last few brought nerves to the surface. Explicit acts and suggestive themes filled the page, maybe half you’ve never heard of. They were reassuring though, stating that you’d all run through them together once finished. During the whole process they were helping to answer any questions or concerns you had until you were ready to print and fill it out. After a week and a half you make your relationship official.

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl

#baby im yours series #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #dom wanda #top wanda #wanda x afab!reader #natasha x wanda #wanda x natasha x reader #dom natasha #marvel natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x wanda x reader #natasha x fem!reader smut #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff marvel #natasha romanov x reader #top natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff

[theoldsports]

Mirror

Coriolanus Snow x Reader. 6.1k words.

18+ some smut, but it’s dicey. dubcon, biting, fingering, nudity, nonconsensual touch, drugs/alcohol? rehab discussion briefly, threats of violence, the shower, struggle against media, one reference to a line from scripture, possessiveness, manipulation. it’s dark. prolonged exposure to it is bad for you.

longest one yet! chronologically follows Married 1+2 in the TRUCULENT series fairly rapidly. i really learned to love this one. upon editing, this story became way more about gaslighting and headfucking someone good and hard into relying on you. special thank you to @heavqn for beta-ing and ridiculous amounts of support and ideas. a lot of our pre-editing convos made this make much more sense to me. + votes are in: next installment/current WIP will be the wedding.

CLICK FOR MORE! CAN BE READ AS SERIES OR STANDALONE

The hand against her shoulder shook her for a moment, then much faster. The shaking lasted seconds or even minutes before [Y/N] pried her eyes open. Everything in the bedroom looked too real, too clear. Coriolanus stood above her. His hand had been doing the shaking. He looked like he had just returned from a run due to his clothes and sweat-stained hair. His hair had grown back more beautifully than before. [Y/N] remembered seeing him when she saw him in the stacks of Philosophy books at the library right after he had returned from Twelve. It was jarring. She had always fancied him a pretty boy even if she loathed him throughout their childhood. He was much different upon his return.

Coriolanus pulled himself up out of the comfort of their bed almost every morning, far too early, to go for a run. [Y/N] didn’t know how she would endure a lifetime of his too chipper morning behavior once they were married. Coming down after a night on morphling was hard and still, she did it over and over again. Coriolanus knew he couldn’t stand in the way of a little fun, but he wouldn’t allow it in their home, so [Y/N] had become involved in using it socially when it was available to her.

“Great. You look like a bum.” Coriolanus said, noting the dark and sunken crescents under her eyes.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. You look like a bum.”

“I’m not a bum.” [Y/N] replied tiredly. She rubbed her eyes.

Last night, [Y/N] had gone out dancing with some of her friends. It was not a bachelorette party in so many words, but it filled the same purpose. It was also a stretch to call the people she went out with friends in so many words, but they filled the same purpose. [Y/N] hadn’t felt that she had people other than Coriolanus for sometime now. She had gotten very drunk and very high the night before, resulting in frustration from Coriolanus when she returned home. He always waited up by the front door when she was gone so long. Coriolanus did not like it when she wasn’t home with him. She would make it up to him somehow— she always did.

“Come on, up with you.” Coriolanus commanded. He sat on the edge of the bed and pushed her up to a sitting position. His voice was harsh, but his touch was soft. [Y/N] adored Coriolanus’ careful, yet guiding touches. Unless his dick was in her, he only touched her with care like she was a porcelain figurine.

“Why all the rush?” [Y/N] yawned.

“You don’t remember?” Coriolanus sighed. He was upset in that pompous way of his. He rubbed his creased forehead. “Seriously, [Y/N]. I ask so little of you and you can’t even behave well enough to remember that we have an interview in…” he checked his watch. “Three hours.” Coriolanus said. It was false that he asked so little of [Y/N]. Sometimes, he asked too much.

An hour exclusive on Lucky Flickerman’s daytime chatter joint. Shit. That woke [Y/N] up. “That’s today!” She exclaimed. That was the only caffeine she needed to wake her up. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Coryo. I didn’t think—“

“No. No Coryo. No, you didn’t think,” Coriolanus said. He needn’t elaborate. “Shower. We’ve got to beat downtown traffic.”

[Y/N] swore Coriolanus scheduled things like this at the worst possible times just to make her look worse than him.

She pushed her shaky legs off the bed. As soon as she stood, [Y/N] felt like she was going to fall. Perceptively, Coriolanus stood and placed his ever-vigilant hand on her lower back to steady her. “You’re a mess.” He said flatly. [Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus felt damp from his run. It crossed her mind that Coriolanus drank bitter coffee, did his work on time, smoked very little and went on a run daily. [Y/N] regularly got too high to see straight and cried when she didn’t get her way. Some pair they were.

“‘M not.” she protested messily. She didn’t want to admit that Coriolanus was right.

Coriolanus huffed indignantly, but did not reply otherwise. He walked her to the bathroom like marching a child to the naughty step. [Y/N] was set down on the low counter-top. “I’m concerned you’re going to slip and give yourself a black-eye,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want people to think I hurt you.” He pulled his track jacket off and dropped it on the floor and reached over to take her short magenta teddy off. She felt desperately bare in front of Coriolanus as she was striped mechanically like a child’s doll. The teddy she wore was one of her favorites, with the delicate lace on the bust. She appreciated that Coriolanus was equally as delicate as the lace when handling it. He must have remembered how much [Y/N] liked it. Coriolanus remembered everything.

[Y/N] was simply impressed she had gotten herself into pajamas after last night at all.

“You’re going to ruin yourself if you keep doing this, you know.” Coriolanus said, starting the shower water.

“So you keep telling me,” [Y/N] shivered due to her bareness against the bathroom tile. “I’m sorry.”

Coriolanus deflected with a shake of his head. He turned to her. Coriolanus was obviously thinking about speaking as the water heated up. Hot water whenever desired was Coriolanus’ number one favorite thing about rebuilding the Snow fortune. That’s why he took his showers too hot; to prove that he could. The thought gave him the confidence to speak. “Do I make you feel so ill that you have to run around and treat yourself like this? Did I do something?” The insecurity of that question made [Y/N] raise an eyebrow. Sometimes when she looked at Coriolanus and realized he was still a boy in many regards. Twenty-three wasn’t very old at all. His frontal lobe wasn’t even finished developing. His primary desire was to be enough for himself, for her, and for everyone else too. [Y/N] feared that he worried he hadn’t figured that out yet. The girl was far from figuring that out herself as well. She rarely saw vulnerability slip through the cracks in the finished marble exterior that built Coriolanus Snow. But who knew if what he said was a true feeling of his or not.

“No,” [Y/N] said. She looked down at her manicured toes. “I did this before we were, y’know… You’ve seen me at house parties since the Academy. You know it’s not you.”

“It has to stop,” Coriolanus started, dashing that fear from his mind. [Y/N] permitting a discussion without blocking him out unpowered him to share his concerns. “It worries me when you’re out late with who knows who. With so many people seeing you. It’s not just part of an act, it’s bad for you.” He said, but what he meant to say was it’s bad for me.

“I knew you had jealousy problems, Coriolanus, but being worried you can’t personally compete with your girl’s partying habits is… hilarious.” [Y/N] attempted a joke. She saw the vein in Coriolanus’ neck throb. His eyes got cold when his vulnerability, no matter how shallow, was met with rejection.

“Get in the shower.”

[Y/N] cast her eyes down, took off her panties and did what she was told.

“It’s so hot!” She all but screamed.

[Y/N] let the water scald her skin. She didn’t want to complain at his trying to help her. “You’ll deal with it,” Coriolanus said, sliding the shower door shut behind the both of them. [Y/N] hadn’t even noticed him undressing, but here they were. They had never been in the shower together before. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the circumstances were. “For the record, I don’t have a ‘jealousy problem.’” He said after a moment of allowing [Y/N] hair to get damp enough to shampoo.

“Really?” [Y/N] bit back, reaching clumsily for her shampoo bottle with slippery fingers.

“Really. Jealousy isn’t a problem when you understand what’s rightfully yours,” Coriolanus said. Normally, she blocked Coriolanus out when he spoke like that. Maybe it was physical proximity or toxic prolonged exposure to Coriolanus, but that made her blush red in the face. Ignoring it, [Y/N]’s fingers closed around her pink and brown shampoo bottle, but Coriolanus snatched it out of her fingers effortlessly. “Let me. I want to be sure it gets done,” He muttered with a passive aggressive edge. That attitude seemed like a put-on to [Y/N]. She wondered if he wanted an excuse to be close to her. She made those up sometimes to be close to him. Maybe she was just flattering herself. Coriolanus squeezed some shampoo into his palm and set the bottle down on the shower ledge. “Who were you out with anyway?”

“Um… Some of the girls. Lysistrata. Oh, Clem. Some others.” [Y/N] braced a hand against the damp wall to steady her feet on the slippery ground.

“Clemensia?” Coriolanus asked, sliding his fingers into her hair, careful as ever. It felt newly intimate in a way that Coriolanus typically avoided with her.

“Who else?”

“I see. You know she’s—“

“I know you don’t like her.” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus was silent.

“I don’t like when you go out without me. I just worry.” He finally said.

“I’m sure you do.”

It was silent between them. Coriolanus worked the shampoo into her hair easily. A man known for his rough intensity being gentle with anything was a surprise to her.

“Did you see anyone else?” He asked nonchalantly.

[Y/N] sighed. Even casual conversation turned to interrogation. She wasn’t sure if he meant it, or if it was all he knew how to do. “Do you mean… Was I photographed behaving in some unsightly way? I dunno. I probably was. I wasn’t unfaithful, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Stop.” Coriolanus said, leaving no room for further argument.

It was quiet again. “Thank you for washing my hair. That’s, uh, it’s very kind.”

“Don’t mention it.” He replied, coaxing [Y/N] back under the water to rinse out the suds. His long fingers combed back through her hair over and over again. [Y/N], soapy, turned around and stared at Coriolanus’ wet face and hair. Even when appearing like a drowned animal, his imposing figure was statuesque.

[Y/N] leaned up and kissed him quickly. “I’m sorry I forgot about the interview,” she whispered, barely louder than the shower water. She apologized more than he did, but he responded well to knowing someone other than him was in the wrong. “Do I really look like shit?”

Coriolanus sighed, more familiarly this time. He loved when she needed him. He would insult her all day long if it meant he got to give her more validation later on. “No,” he slipped a hand under her breast and gave it a squeeze, his thumb danced across her nipple. “No, you don’t,” His other hand wormed its way across her cheek to brush away that disgusting makeup residue from the night prior. “You just needed a little polish. Let’s finish up. Go get dressed. Coffee’s on in the kitchen.”

“You poison it?”

Coriolanus frowned exasperatedly. He reached the hand cupping her breast around to her ass and gave it a hard, wet smack. “You bitch.” He smirked.

Sins almost all forgiven.

—

Every time [Y/N] was in a car with Coriolanus, it felt like a coaching session. Hand on her thigh with, don’t say this, say that instead, let me speak first, don’t embarrass me.

No point in elaborating on the most familiar part of their normal day-to-day since it really was habit at this point. [Y/N] always ached to snap back at him after these times. One day, don’t embarrass me was going to hit so hard that she did.

When they got out of the car a few blocks from their destination, [Y/N] had dawned her bright purple sunglasses. Coriolanus hated them and had tried on multiple occasions to buy her new ones to no avail. The daylight was still too bright for her tired eyes, so they were going to be worn on the walk to Capitol News.

After half a block (and so close to a news building), they were swamped by people clicking away at them. It made the bright sun burn hotter. Coriolanus’ white blonde hair and intimidating stature was much too easy to pick out in a crowd for their sunglasses and long jackets to disguise much.

Right now, besides Games news, they were the hottest topic of discussion in the Capitol. Their engagement party had been wild, [Y/N] was typically wild, and Coriolanus was characteristically unwild. It made for good TV.

Coriolanus leaned in to whisper something. [Y/N] couldn’t hear it. All she could do was smile and tell any reporters with microphones ‘no thank you,’ or ‘you’ll have to watch Lucky’s to answer for that.’ Coriolanus merely smiled a smile that was not his smile and said ‘not now folks, we’ll be late,’ or ‘don’t worry about them, Darling.’

[Y/N] was leashed by Coriolanus’ hand on the back of her neck as he guided her through crowds. He had two dressbags of clothes for the show tossed effortlessly over his shoulder as they walked. They were a newsroom’s wetdream. She was exuberant and he was magnetic. And they were both trouble. Power, wealth, youth, stability and status. Everyone liked to watch them at their best and loved to watch them at their worst.

“How do you put up with it, Mr. Snow!” A bland-looking man with a microphone called.

“How was the party last night, [Y/N]!” Called another. They always called [Y/N] by her first name because, frankly, she was fairly certain they didn’t know her maiden name and technically she wasn’t Mrs. Snow yet either. Coriolanus’ grip on her tightened at the question.

She smirked at how the power of her own name took away power from her family and their name; the thing they desperately wanted a morsel of.

Considering a future where she inevitably became Mrs. Snow, she thought about how her lifetime of indiscretions would be tied to Coriolanus forever. She smirked wider at their folie a deux.

[Y/N] felt like a doll again, being pushed by Coriolanus like that. She didn’t hate it entirely, though. She liked it when he manhandled her a little. It helped with all the noise that surrounded them these days to be able to turn her brain off and let Coriolanus handle it for her. She would never admit it, but being a good doll for Coriolanus for the foreseeable future didn’t seem too bad. Her stomach churned wicked for thinking that. It made her antsy to not have an exciting retort in front of reporters. [Y/N] usually did, but her head ached too much this morning. Instead, she looked helplessly up at Coriolanus. He glanced down at her, an eyebrow raised. “Overwhelmed?” He asked quietly, but not too quietly. [Y/N] nodded. “Don’t worry, my dear. We’re almost there.” Coriolanus said like a good husband should. [Y/N] thought about how he was rarely such a good husband when other people weren’t looking. Then why had he seemed to care so much that morning? She must’ve been mistaken about one part or the other.

[Y/N] leaned up and kissed him for in part for his kindness. The crowd aww’d. Kisses were a good way to distract a man. Any man, receiving or watching. Coriolanus’ hand slipped down from her neck to the back of her waist. Her fingers went into the soft hair at the bottom of his neck. She felt him inhale sharply. She knew he hated that. “What was that for?” Coriolanus asked when he pulled away, referring to the kiss.

“Wanted to make sure you were real. None of this feels real.” [Y/N] laughed dizzily. It was true, but she felt stupid saying it. She had spent a lot of time feeling stupid recently and this morning was no exception. The hangover and the whirlwind of voices and flashes had emptied her brain completely. Coriolanus leaned in to whisper in her ear again. This time she caught what he said:

“Stop this. We’ve ten steps until we’re in the building. I’ve told you not to touch my hair.”

He pulled away from her and put on his brilliant, effortless smirk that rich boys his age always had. Coriolanus yanked [Y/N] the remaining distance into the news building.

As soon as they entered, they were whisked away to dress for that afternoon’s broadcast. [Y/N] was dropped into a beautician’s chair to make her face look like someone else’s. She groaned at the duty she held.

Makeup brushes and blowdryers and curling irons and spray bottles of who knows what clouded [Y/N] of vision.

She wished Coriolanus was in her immediate vicinity so she could glance over him and laugh cruelly about how stupid all this is. He was always good for a laugh at the expense of things like this.

“Honey, who does your hair on the regular? I suggest you switch to someone else.” The obscene-looking woman pulling her hair back asked.

[Y/N] laughed, but said nothing. [Y/N] wanted to strangle her.

Not long after that, [Y/N] was pulled up to her feet and forced into a dress that she at least knew she liked. Tight around the waist and thighs, capping off at the knees. It was higher necked, but was so tight that it left little to the imagination. She knew Coriolanus would get frustrated with a fluffy dress, so she picked one that would make his eyes bug out instead. It was off-white with a delicate floral pattern outlined in a brighter white.

[Y/N] looked great. She knew this as she admired the contrasting bulk of the shoulders and flowing sleeves with the clinging exposure of her curves everywhere else. She didn’t exactly look like herself, though. Especially with her hair and makeup done so precisely. She wasn’t precise, she was messy. Precise didn’t suit her.

[Y/N] wondered if the her that stared back in the full-body mirror was the real her now. Messy her was gone. A Capitol wife remained. A doll.

She slid her black ankle-breaking heels on and shook the thought away as she entered the sound stage.

[Y/N] always forgot how noble Coriolanus was capable of looking, considering he was distinctly the opposite. She stared at him. Mauve coat, black trousers, crisp white undershirt, white tie, white rose. Clearly, he had let someone touch his hair. Even if it was a stylist.

Coriolanus gestured for her to walk over to where he stood and Lucky sat. It was difficult to walk with the dress clinging around her knees and the height of her heels. Her short, intentional steps felt demeaning. Most things in her life felt vaguely demeaning, but she kept turning a purposeful blind eye. The stage lights were too bright. Coriolanus’ teeth were too white for the amount of throats he’d ripped out.

Capitol magic.

“Hello Darling. You look lovely.” Coriolanus said as she approached. He took his hand in her and kissed it. Coriolanus’ eyes never looked up at hers because they were too busy looking at how her body fit the dress.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied neutrally. “Hi Lucky. Green’s really your color.” [Y/N] lied. Lucky’s green, wintery tux was vile and everyone with eyes and a modicum of taste would see that.

Coriolanus coughed into his shoulder to cover a scoff. He wrapped a strong arm around [Y/N]’s waist.

“Thank you, [Y/N]! Good to see you, pleasantries, pleasantries, yada yada. Shall I call you [Y/N]…? Mrs. Snow… The network doesn’t really know what the hell to do with you.” Lucky beamed from his chair.

“Oh, uh… I’m not really Mrs. Snow yet. It’s not necessary. My first name will do. I’m not picky, though.”

She felt Coriolanus deflate a little beside her as he dropped her waist and folded himself into the gaudy patterned armchair the network provided. [Y/N] felt a sting of guilt. Maybe she should have let him carry on with the Mrs. Snow thing. Coriolanus would have to get over it. “Sure thing, hon. Anyway, go ahead. Take your seat. Some of these questions are tacky, tacky, tacky, but do your best and humor us. Panem wants to know the real you.” Lucky beamed.

“I’m sure they do.” They don’t. And they won’t.

“You kids really are… Wow, lovely to share the stage with. You make me look old and sad comparatively, damn,” Lucky joked. “It’s been a good while since I’ve had the pleasure of sitting alongside Coriolanus like this. You were a child then. Crazy, the passage of time.” He continued.

“Lucky, it’s always an honor.” Coriolanus said. Coriolanus hated Lucky. [Y/N] marveled at his ability to lie so gracefully.

A group of production folks stepped out of the shadows to give them bottled water and let them know the show was about to begin. The studio audience poured in through side doors.

[Y/N] quickly leaned over to Coriolanus. “I thought this was a pre-tape.” She whispered frantically.

“You didn’t remember this interview existed three hours ago. You’ll deal with it.” He replied, with a note of his own panic he was unable to squash.

Fifteen minutes of seating and then a live camera inches away from [Y/N]’s face. “Well, we really thank you for having us on your show, Lucky.” She smiled. The audience analyzed them like vultures. This was the most wicked game designed for them, but Coriolanus didn’t lose. [Y/N] would have to be perfect.

“Of course! Always a pleasure, [Y/N]. Let’s get to some of these questions on my handy little list of questions, huh?” A few shallow questions about what designers they were wearing, what their morning routine was like to look so gorgeous, Coriolanus leaning over to hold [Y/N]’s hand across their chairs (the audience sighed lovingly). Coriolanus curls, stubborn as he was, fell out of the hold of the hairspray like they always did. She smirked and reached up with her left hand to push them out of his eyes. Oh, he hated that. [Y/N] could tell. Lovely.

“Oh, look at that ring,” Lucky said. “The ring we’ve all been talking about. Let’s get a closeup on that rock,” the camera pushed in to [Y/N]’s hand obediently. A large ruby mounted on a white gold band. She had been assured it was real. [Y/N]’s other jewelry, silver, sat patina-ing in a wooden box because of it.“Beautiful. Must’ve cost you a pretty penny, Coriolanus.”

“Yes, Coryo, how much did it cost?” [Y/N] asked. Coriolanus shifted in his seat. Money was not a thing Coriolanus discussed.

“A bit.” He replied stiffly. [Y/N] grinned.

“Uh, you both are mighty famous for that ring. I suppose it’s time to discuss that crazy engagement party. I was there to witness the whole thing firsthand, of course.”

The Snows-to-be nodded.

“These questions can get uncomfortable, but I’m sure you’ll answer all the same. So, your relationship seems… Alarmingly happy today for two people debating splitting over infidelity at the celebration of their engagement.”

“Please, we only debate it when I’m drunk, Lucky.” [Y/N] said much to the audiences joy. They laughed heartily.

“Which is too often, if you want my opinion.” Another laugh from the audience for Coriolanus, never one for being outdone. She knew, in his mind, she deserved that.

“Rehabilitation is always an opinion.” Lucky joked darkly, not knowing what to say.

“Being wild is fun, though, isn’t it? I’m not from privilege and grace as much as my fiancé. He’s always been elegant. I’m learning; I have a good teacher. But you only get your youth once. You would know, I’m sure, Lucky. When someone loves you as much as Coriolanus loves me… He always forgives my mistakes. He’s too good me. He’s patient.” [Y/N] said. He was patient, but it came out in the way that he played the long game. His impulses along the way were markedly less patient. Coriolanus squeezed her hand tightly as a warning.

Lucky smiled bitterly. “Well, I’m sure he’ll learn to keep you on a shorter leash eventually. Actually, I hear you were out last night as well.”

Fuck.

“Yes, bachelorette party, you see.”

“The studio’s telling me,” Lucky clutched his earpiece. “They have some photos from your last wild night as an unwed woman.”

“Oh. Is that so…? Haha,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus squeeze her hand until her own knuckles were white. Neither one of them had a clue what they were about to throw up on that screen. Coriolanus inhaled shakily, but maintained neutrality. “Can’t be worse than the sides you saw of us a few months back at the—“

It was worse.

The dress was short, but Coriolanus had known that when she stopped into his office to tell him she was going out. He had responded with a “That? Really? Okay…” with quiet anger that the dress wasn’t being worn for him.

Then there was the dreaded miniature morphling vile empty between her fingers. It was obvious she was trying to talk with her friends under the flashing lights. They were all wearing similar fare. Six or seven drunk, high young women pictured together wasn’t that bad, even for some of the old school Capitol prudes.

None was more damning than the strange man’s hand planted firmly on [Y/N]’s ass. His smile was too wide. The [Y/N]’s in the picture’s grimace at the stranger over her shoulder was uncomfortable. It screamed DON’T-TOUCH-ME. She looked like she was telling him to stop, but her eyes were wide and her lips were pulled into a frown. The subtext implied by the woman in the photo was Coriolanus is going to kill me. She sighed. The crowd gasped. Coriolanus inhaled sharply.

[Y/N] had said her behavior the night before was inherently not unfaithful. Coriolanus didn’t feel the need to not believe her since she was the one who brought it up. The apples of Coriolanus cheeks grew red with rage. The stranger’s smile was too big. He knew he was touching Coriolanus Snow’s fiancée. He knew was taking advantage of a helpless girl and her friends. He knew he was defacing someone else’s property.

Coriolanus Snow was going to find this man and ruin his life.

[Y/N], humiliated, looked over at Coriolanus. She had a hazy memory of telling some guy to “knock it off” the night before. Truly, she did remember this, but of course, she hadn’t thought this would be a big deal. This was a part of her life she had had to deal with since she was a young woman. This man’s action was undesired, but not unexpected. Taking in the photo and the look on his fiancée’s face as she shook her head slowly at him was enough for Coriolanus to determine that this touch was unwanted. [Y/N] looked guilty, but she had little reason to be. He hated seeing that look on her face in a situation he didn’t create.

[Y/N]’s only crime was going out without Coriolanus. She knew he hated when she did that. If he had been there, he would’ve handled the situation there and then. She was never going out alone again. She needed him. Right now, he was going to be the man she needed.

“Take that off the screen.” Coriolanus said firmly to Lucky.

“Well, first, let’s have—“ Lucky tried.

“I don’t think you heard me. I said take it down,” Coriolanus continued. He turned to the cameras and those behind them. “Now.”

Coriolanus watched a young woman at a screen immediately buckle at his demand and begin scrambling to pull the image. The show’s graphic was returned to the monitor. “Thank you,” Coriolanus said in the woman’s direction. [Y/N] stared at the floor, beet-red. She was trying not to cry, but what would it matter if she did? Coriolanus knew too well the meaning of her tell-tale sniffle and avoidant eye contact. He turned back to Lucky. “I think that was extremely rude of you and your production group to put up an image, without consent, of my fiancée getting touched without consent. It’s apparent to me from looking at that photo that my fiancée did not welcome that touch. Would you agree?”

“Possibly, but since the engagement party—“

“I think you forget I trust [Y/N]. Are you the one marrying her?”

“… No. But hey, this is my show, kid. Let’s get back on track with—“

Coriolanus knew better than most people that what was said and done on live television was as good as forever. He would use that to his advantage. Nobody came for Coriolanus’ belongings and left with the hand that tried to snatch them.

“I’m not finished,” Coriolanus snapped. [Y/N] reached for Coriolanus’ hand again to signal that that’s enough, dear. He took it and looked over at her. He was angry; normal person righteous angry. Not manic, not cold. That was a new face. Coriolanus had so many pretend faces that clipped on and off. [Y/N] had previously thought she had seen them all. “Were you wanting that touch, Princess? Did you know him?” He asked [Y/N]. She shook her head with her eyes damp and downcast. “As I implied, you don’t know us. Don’t ever embarrass my fiancée like that,” or me, [Y/N] assumed his subtext as he spoke. “Whoever this moron in the picture is has another thing coming. What kind of self-respecting news network aims to humiliate guests for something they couldn’t help?” Coriolanus said. [Y/N]’s heart raced. He cared. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but his support mattered. No one else was going to do it.

Sometimes he was absent, yes, but Coriolanus always came through when [Y/N] needed him. She was grateful that he wasn’t angry with her, even if that part came later in private. She was grateful for now that his way of easing his own pain eased hers too. She could get used to that. [Y/N] let out tears of temporary relief and reached for the box of tissues on the round table between guests and host.

Coriolanus stared Lucky down and settled himself further back in his seat with a sigh. “Next question?” The blonde man said.

—

The ride home was nearly silent. [Y/N] had started crying the second she sat down in the car. Coriolanus hadn’t say anything, but he kept his hand in hers the whole time. He didn’t even fight to let go when his palm got sweaty. [Y/N] pulled his hand close to her chest. She had done nothing wrong, yet she felt that everything was her fault. She had failed Coriolanus. This media wreck wasn’t just a game for photographers and journalists, this one embarrassed her genuinely. This one embarrassed Coriolanus and she was constantly told she was not supposed to do that. Don’t embarrass me rang against every corner in her brain.

The car stopped in front of their building. Coriolanus, as he always seemed to, opened her car door before the driver could get out. Coriolanus thanked the driver and put an arm around [Y/N] and led her up the stairs to their townhouse. The door closed behind them. Coriolanus locked the deadbolt with a heavy clunk. Safe from eyes that watched every failure with glee. They could be people again.

“I’m sorry, Coriolanus,” [Y/N] said, mascara down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know him. Really, I didn’t. I told you this morning. I—I didn’t know him.” She backed herself protectively towards the couch and away from Coriolanus in learned preemptive panic.

“I know,” Coriolanus said. “Nobody but me gets to touch you like that. I know you’re smart enough to understand that. I cannot fathom how another man thinks he can do that to you and get away with it.”

“That’s… That’s been happening my whole adult life, you can’t magically make that—“

“I don’t think you understand, Darling. I can. I don’t want to know that anyone has ever touched you like that. I swear on my mother’s grave. I will fucking murder them.” His winter blue eyes could vaporize a perpetrator on the spot.

“Coriolanus, that’s extreme.”

“Not to me. Not when you’re involved.”

“You can’t hurt people that looked at me funny. It’s hardly a crime.”

“Isn’t their some old line about not coveting another man’s wife?”

“…Yes. You have a future. You can’t interrupt your opportunities because some shithead—“

“It won’t interrupt anything. Wouldn’t it make you feel better to know that a creep like that was off the streets?”

“…Yes.”

“Well, then we agree. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

[Y/N] blushed and looked down. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be. I’m not angry with you about this. I know I can trust you. I do. You know I do. I don’t worry about that. I cannot trust other people around you, especially when you use that filthy drug,” Coriolanus said. He extend a hand to [Y/N] as he approached like he would approaching a scared animal. That hand went slowly to [Y/N]’s waist. Coriolanus pulled her in closer so they were chest to chest. “You are not going out without me to some party like that ever again. Disrespecting you like that means disrespecting me, too. I won’t stand for either.”

“I—“

Coriolanus was going to get what he wanted all along: [Y/N] alone with him always. How could she need anyone else? Everyone out there wanted to hurt her, touch her, make her feel bad about herself. Not Coriolanus. Perhaps, he should be thanking that man instead of cutting his fingers off one at a time. “No. Let me keep you safe. That’s all this is. I want you safe. I’m to be your husband. That’s my job. Won’t you let me do my job, [Y/N]?” He said too calmly. His blue eyes stared deep into hers. Coriolanus had a fantastic talent for telling someone something and letting them think it was a question; letting them think it was their idea— letting them they had a choice.

He was right. He did make her feel safe. Holding on to her like this made her melt. In Coriolanus’ arms, [Y/N] felt secure. He was moody, but Coriolanus was frustratingly reliable. He wanted to make himself the bedrock of [Y/N]’s life. She had no choice but to allow him that. [Y/N] breathed out and he felt her breath fan out across his face. “Let me take care of you. I won’t let that happen to you anymore. I promise.” Coriolanus muttered.

He tipped his mouth slowly into her neck and hungrily sucked at the place below her ear. A gasp caught in [Y/N]’s throat at the surprise sensation. Her knees wobbled and her dress and shoes didn’t make it any better. She put her arms around his neck for support. “Coriolanus…” she whispered. Coriolanus loved the vibration in her throat beneath his lips.

Helplessly, [Y/N] tipped her head back to give her fiancé what he wanted. Coriolanus had sucked a few hickeys on her neck and chest before, sure. Never before had he bitten her. This time, he bit her hard enough to bruise and scab. It was harder to cover an indent with makeup than a simple bruise. If she were to go out even to the grocery store, other men had to understand that [Y/N] was off the market. If an engagement ring wouldn’t do it, this would. Coriolanus bit her with such force that the tears started to well again.

The position they were in felt like a dance. His hands on her waist, hers on his neck, their bodies flush together. [Y/N] fell deeper into the black hole of Coriolanus Snow. This must have been on purpose. He knew she loved to dance with him and made it a weapon. Damn him. She would always say yes to a dance, wouldn’t she? Wasn’t this whole relationship just a fucked up dance?

The man reached one hand down and pulled up [Y/N]’s dress as much as he could get it up and tore it the rest of the way. [Y/N] could swear she had been torn out of a third of her clothing recently. Coriolanus pushed her panties to the side and pushed his fingers into her. It would have hurt if she hadn’t been so wet to begin with. She bobbled on her heels. Once Coriolanus has pumped himself fingertip to hand in and out of her a handful of times, [Y/N] was holding herself up entirely by his neck and shoulders and the fingers that impaled her tenderly. Coriolanus had complete control over the situation. The only thing left for her to do was moan and she didn’t hold back.

Coriolanus was unrelenting. He marked a disturbing black and blue column on her throat the way he liked. Slowly, the pair rocked back and forth from foot to foot, as Coriolanus nipped, fucked and sucked. A fucked-up slow dance to the song of the traffic on the other side of the window.

MORE FROM THE TRUCULENT SERIES

TAGLIST:

@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @arminsarlerts @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @taykorsyogurt @ndycrls @watermelonharry @nananarwhal @ohantonia @catlover420sstuff @justaproudslytherpuff @notarabellasstuff @scarytiger111 @zucchinimalfoy @secretsicanthideanymore @h-l-vlovesvintage @dannydevsbbg @clintsupremacy @lookclosernow @10ava01 @or-was-it-just-a-dream @lucielsstuff @fairyydvst @spencereidbasis @a-mellifluous-life @daenerysqueenofhearts @heavqn @dangelnleif @lapisthelovely @wotcherpeak @24kmar

apologies as always for the little tags that couldn’t.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #hunger games #ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coryo snow #coryo x reader #truculent series

[ceesimz]

The Mountain Is You

Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'

Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.

Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.

Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.

If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.

For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.

Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.

"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.

"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."

"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."

"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."

"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."

"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."

"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.

The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.

Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.

You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.

Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!

What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?

Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.

So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.

Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.

Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?

You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.

A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.

"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"

For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.

"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."

"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."

"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."

"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."

And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.

The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.

Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.

When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.

However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.

You:

Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x

Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.

Alexia:

Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x

Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.

And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.

Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.

Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.

When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.

Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.

Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.

Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.

You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.

Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.

Until she did arrive.

The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.

She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.

Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.

The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.

"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.

"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."

"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."

"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."

You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.

"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."

"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.

"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.

"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."

You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?

"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."

She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.

"How are you?"

"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.

"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."

"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.

"I do, I swear."

At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.

She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.

The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.

"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.

"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.

"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.

"Any of it. All of it."

"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"

"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.

"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."

Sorry, what was that?

"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.

"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."

"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"

"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."

"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"

"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."

"Are you okay?" You blurt out.

At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.

"What do you mean?"

Exactly what you guessed.

"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.

"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.

"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."

She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.

"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."

"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.

"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."

"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.

"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"

"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.

Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.

"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.

"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"

Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.

"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"

"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.

"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."

You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.

"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.

"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.

"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.

"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.

"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"

"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."

"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."

"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.

"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?

"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.

Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.

"What's wro-"

"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.

"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"

"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"

"Oh, perdónarme, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.

"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"

And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.

"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."

There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.

It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.

The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.

"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.

"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.

"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."

"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."

"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"

"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."

"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."

"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."

"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.

"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.

"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."

You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.

"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."

"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."

"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."

She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.

"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."

You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.

Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.

Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.

"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.

"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.

"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."

You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?

However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.

"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.

"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.

"Liked the smell, did you?"

"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.

You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.

A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.

"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.

"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."

Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.

"No, I like that you still have it."

You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.

"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.

"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"

"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.

"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."

"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.

"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."

With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.

"I think it's only a matter of time."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso

[mayullla]

Quest: Clear out the slimes in grandmother's garden.

Character(s): Slime Monster (Oc / Original work) Summary: You are an adventurer, taking up missions and quests in the guild. You didn't know that your choices all have unfair consequences. You thought of the slime more as a pet while it thought of you as a mate. Tags/warnings: Yandere!monster, fem!reader, non-consensual kissing and touching, possession (not the reader), taking a bath in front of a 'supposed' pet if that is a warning needed

{ - JRPG Quest masterlist - }

You took a simple mission, help an old grandmother clean out the slimes that have been eating all her crops and vegetables in her garden.

Clearing out the slime with your sword you noticed a smile, a little lighter blue than the other slimes. Weakly moving around while others jumped in panic at the sight of your sword. You should have killed it then and there, but you left it.

The old lady was kind and gave you your reward for clearing out the monster yet she could not help but question if it was really all right for you to hold such a dangerous creature in your hand. "Are you sure it would be okay to keep such a thing? I know some people keep them as pets but aren't they still wild creatures?" You tried to calm the worries of the grandmother stating that you will only release the slime out to the wild.

Walking deeper into the forest you gave it some food to eat that you have brought with you. You watched as the sandwich slowly disintegrate inside the slime's body. You wondered why you let this one go, really while most slimes are harmless too many also cause trouble for the ecosystem. Maybe it was because of its unique color, you never saw such pink slime in your life.

"Don't come back if you know what is good for you." You mumbled poking the little slime on your hand. The gushing sound it made in delight perhaps because it finally ate made you smile. When you thought you were far enough from the place you tried to place the slime down. "There you go- huh?" You were supposed to plop the slime onto the grassy floor instead the slime continued to cling to your hand refusing to let go. "What the..."

No matter what you did, the slime did not let go. As you scoop the slime from one hand it started to cling to the other when you tried to remove the creature from your hand with your boots. It still didn't let go instead choosing to stick to your boot's ankle making it hard for you to walk.

After trying to get this thing off from you and failing miserably you had no choice but to take the thing back home as the sun slowly goes down and the day ends. "What am I supposed to do with you." You mumbled scratching the back of your head as you glance at the thing on your arms giggling in happiness that you weren't trying to throw it out anymore.

The little thing had become a pet of sorts for you. It followed you around the house everywhere you go. When you finish eating, the remaining food and plate you would feed it to the slime where it would eat all the leftovers and clean the plate and then give it to you. (You thought it the little thing could become your dishwasher with how clean your plates look but at the same time the idea that it was not washed by water and soap and instead slime doesn't sit right with you.)

It would follow you when you get ready for the day and follow you to the bathroom and even when you shower. The slime had at one point crawled into your bathtub once joining you in your soak. You didn't think much of it really, the thing didn't have eyes nor a mouth or anything it was just a blob really.

"Hmmmm" You poked the floating slime that did its best to get on your bathtub. The slime clinging to your finger at that moment and started crawling closer to you till it reached your shoulder nuzzling itself on your neck.

It followed you to your bed when you went to sleep. The thing tried to cuddle next to you again, and while it didn't bother you while in the bath it bothered you now. It was a weird feeling! How were you supposed to sleep went it feels like one side of the bed was wet. Too uncomfortable you grabbed the slime and placed it on a pillow that you tossed to the floor.

"That will be your bed from now on all right?" You told it satisfied when you saw the curious motion it was doing looking at you and then at the pillow. Too tired you were soon fast asleep.

You woke with the thing right on top of your chest as if it had sneaked up when you were sleeping. And the next time it happened again and again, you tried to put the small slime outside your room but it seems that since it didn't have any bones it was able to slide on the crack of the door and place itself again close to you.

You had gotten so used to this slime being in your life thought of it nothing more than a pet unknowing that in the end it still was a monster. That pink slime grew so attached to you, unknown to you its attachment was somewhat an obsession than something cute.

In a sense, it thought of you as its mate. Your affection for it was a courting ritual for the pink slime as it returned your affection with rubs in your hand almost as it was a puppy when all it wanted was to merge with you. Yet it can't. Slime went the smartest yet they pick up fast as it watched you interact with a man. You wondered what the slime was thinking when it watched you as you talked to your crush. You have fallen in love with another adventurer for a while now and while you two aren't partners sometimes you would join with him on a quest or two if you happen to bump into each other.

But you weren't able to dwell in those thoughts anymore when the adventure called your name wondering if you were okay or not as you seem to zone out a bit. "Are you okay? Want to rest somewhere?" "O-oh no! I am completely alright!"

You wondered where that slime had gone after the quest, disappearing near the end. You called out a small nickname you have given to it yet no blob of pink appeared in your vision and after trying to search for it for a while you returned home thinking that it finally returned back to the wild. You felt everything was odd at first there was no squishing sound of slime following you and when you tried to reach out for something you realized it was there anymore.

After staying in your life for more than 2 months you have grown used to the little guy that you can't help but become a little solemn at the thought.

Yet you didn't want this... You certainly didn't want this...

It was a rainy night when you got a knock on the door. It has been two weeks since the pink slime left but it also has been two weeks since you last saw that certain adventurer that you have in mind. You gasp when you saw him all drenched from the rain standing right in front of the door. "H-hey... It seems that i have been caught in the rain... Sorry, can I stay at your place for a little till the rain stops..." He told you having an awkward smile on his face.

You have given him the shower while finding clothes that he could wear. You let him stay for a while, thinking that he would leave the moment the rain stopped but it didn't as your heart beat with how close the man that you liked was as if the man was unconsciously nuzzling you on your neck as the two of you waited on the sofa for the rain to stop.

When you realize that he was that slime that you once cared for it was too late when he forced you down on the sofa his hand slowly changes to something more slimy texture yet still strong enough to pin your arms down. The smile he gave was so lovestruck and goofy as you could see specks of pink in his eyes.

When he forced a kiss something that the slime has saw all the other couples would do, you could taste and feel the texture of slime on your tongue as the slime on top of you curiously explore your mouth. His eyes were sickeningly sweet... you now knew you make a mistake in bringing the slime in.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #tw yandere #yanderecore #yancore #monster x reader #yandere monster #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere writing #yandere terato #yandere tetrophilia #yandere exophilia #yandere original work #yandere original charcater #yandere slime #yandere oc #yandere prompts

[breannasfluff]

Fanfiction Comments: Why Bother?

Genuine question: If ya’ll like a story, why not comment?

This question, born out of previous discussions and Discord chats, is one writers have been dealing with for a long time. Feedback/reblogs on art tends to be more common than on fics. Yet writers continue to beg for comments on stories. So what's stopping people?

Don't know what to say/an emoji/script feels too impersonal

Forgot to comment

Read everything and how do you pick out one part?

Rather give feedback personally

Feels like an expectation/I owe them

Send me a string of emojis? I love it. Send a single heart? I love it. Keyboard smash? I love it. Copy/paste a "thank you for writing"? I still love it. "I don't know what to comment or how to put my feelings into words." Then put that! That's a compliment! Can't think of anything to say, then "I don't know what to write but asgfdhgf I liked it." is fine!

Seriously, I don't care WHAT you put, because it shows me you cared enough to take a few second to show that love. I recognize and look for my regular commenters, even the ones who leave just a heart or "extra kudos".

Forgot to comment? Leave the fic open on your phone or get in the habit of dropping SOMETHING right as you finish. If you had time to make it through the last 100 words, you can probably tap an emoji. It's likely more of a habit to build up than anything.

Read it in one go and it's all a blur? "I read this all in one go and it's a blur, but I loved it!" We don't need specifics; just tell us you loved it on the chapter you stopped on. That in itself is a compliment because Hey! You loved it so much you had to keep reading!

Personal feedback? Well, I'll never say no to friends gushing about stories to me! And it might not be the same for everyone, but if you stop commenting on AO3 and only tell me personally...my assumption is you don't like it enough to say it publicly. I've spent many a time wondering why people stopped giving that support and what I should do better. If it's a friend, try asking them which they prefer! We can go back and reread (and do!) AO3 comments. Much harder on discord/dms/etc.

Owing authors? Look, we put a lot of time and work into writing and providing content for free. Hours of idea planning, actual writing, editing, catering to requests, etc. My partner once said I have a second job, writing, but I don't get paid. If you read and enjoyed something that someone put a lot of work into, it's nice to take a few seconds and tell them that.

You don't owe authors comments. They also don't owe you free writing. Sometimes, you forget there is an author at all when you're reading. But there is. A real person put out a story hoping you'd love it, or connect to it. You'd see yourself in the writing and feel less alone, or cheered up when you have a bad day.

Writing is art, and all we want to do is connect with you. Comments help bridge that gap.

#fanfiction comments #fanfic commenting #fanfic writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfic #fanfiction #writer appreciation #ao3 comments #ao3 community #writing #Ika is opening a writer support cheerleading team. The requirement is: cheerleading for the writers

[natriae]

Oh to make out with omi omi like it’s so messy and hot and surprisingly he love it too. Maybe one day u are having drinks and things get heated. OMGGG a roommate au fuckkkkk my mind goes burrrrrrrrrr

NO FRR needy omi makes me go brrrr

I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITTING THIS SOONER

WARNINGS: 17+, BONER ALERT!!, drinking

Friday nights with your roomate weren't unusual. The two of you often going to the fanciest bars in Tokyo with the best views. You'll have to thank the Volleyball Association for his hefty paycheck. The two of you didn't get to see each other often between you pursuing your master's degree, Kiyoomi traveling and his tough practice schedules. The most interaction you guys have had in the pass month was passing him in the hallways. Him always being half dead and you... well you weren't in the best shape as well.

So you decided that the last friday of the month was Omi and Y/N time. While you wanted to spend this time showing him how greatful you are he took you in, omi had the idea of going to "better" establishments. By better he means 3 star michelin restaurants... the ones you can't afford.

Yes, it was nice to see that his name allowed the two of you to experience these beautiful places, but as of lately these seemed more like dates rather than two roommates catching up. Not that your opposed to a date with Omi. Have you seen his body? But he's seen you at your worse. Crying to him at the bar in Ongiri Miya about how your getting evicted from your apartment and how your behind on loan payments. He's seen you sick and begging for him to get you toilet paper. If anything he probably takes you to these places to be his wing woman.

One too many drinks later, and the two of your are stumbling out of the restaurant to his luxurious car. Kiyoomi was much better at hiding his drunkenness than you where. The street lamps were just dim enough to hide the pink dusting his cheeks.

All of your weight pressed into his side while he attempted to keep you upright. "Y/N you need to work with me," the taller man grunts before decides to lift you up over his shoulder. "we need to go home," he breaths into the chill night air.

"whoa, big boy take me on a date first," you giggle into his back. Hitting one of his butt cheeks with the palm of your hand.

You're flipped back upright once you reach his car. He opens the back door and tosses you in. It takes a moment for your brain to register that he got in next to you. "why aren't you driving?" you question, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I'm drunk...gonna wait till I sober up a bit," he states closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Always so responsible. "Also we live together, and that was a date, so I wouldn't be in the wrong," he says sternly looking down at you.

Popping your head up you look at him with furrowed brows. "what do you mean that was a date?"

"Was it not?" He questions, more so to himself than to you. While Kiyoomi is lost in his own thoughts yours run wilding thinking of all the times the two of you have gone out like this. He never said any of these were dates...

You watch as Kiyoomi's adam's apple bobs in his throat. If his face wasn't flushed enough it's clear now. His ears bright red as he stutters out his next words. "d-did you not want this to be a date?"

Did he really think these were all dates? You attempt to look at him in the eyes, yet his fail to meet yours. His head remains looking at the window leaving you with only the view of his red ear. Memories flood your mind in attempt to find the word date leave his mouth during any of your plans. Yet all you can remember are the times Kiyoomi was left stressed he wouldn't have time to shower and change, how he spent an abnormally long time on his hair, or how he always would sneak his card to the waiter so he paid for your meal.

"Hey, look at me," you whisper, lightly moving his chin to face you. His pupils widen over his already dark eyes making them look like perfect tapioca pearls. "we're these all dates?" did you want these to all be dates? Kiyoomi nods his head slowly, and you drop your hand from his face. Unwanted touch was not the man's specialty, yet his hand drops to yours. Placing it back on his cheek, as he looks into your eyes.

"I didn't know how to ask you, and I definitely drank to much tonight," his face flushes more as he rubs your hand softly. "Miya told me to ask you tonight, but i was.."

"Kiyoomi you can say you were nervous," you whisper in the dark car inches from his face.

"never," he smirks. That's something you can tease him about tomorrow. You want nothing more then to kiss the stupidly handsome man. "didn't think you'd like me.. you know with my habits," he states barely loud enough to hear.

"how can I not, at least i know you don't have shit stains," you giggle, leaning closer, noses almost touching. He giggles with you, a sound you don't get to hear often. The deep breath he takes is almost enough of a distraction for you to miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips.

"Kiyoomi"

"huh" he responds on autopilot.

"do you wanna kiss me?" you ask, eyes widening like that of a doe.

"may I?" the gentleman in him asks. Not even a second later your leaning completely into him. Leaving a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes remain shut after you seperate. Your nose still touching his, a small smile escapes as you lean in to kiss him longer. His hand comes to rest on your neck to push you futher into him. You may have broken Kiyoomi.

He bites your lower lip as his hand leaves your neck to wrap around your body while his other hand grabs your thigh to help situate you on his lap. Both of your hands hold his face as you deepen the kiss. You can't help, but strattle him while your tongues explore each others mouths. It's mess and sloppy as saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. His large palms move under your dress to kneed your ass. Your not even sure this is your Kiyoomi with the way his hand slaps, strach that, spikes your ass. Kneading the flesh before repeating the action. Your left unbuttoning his shirt as he begins to trail kisses down your neck. His hands go to waist to push your heat to his hard on.

They were right, it's always the quiet ones.

Your hands tangle in his hair as your left grinding onto him. At this point your dress is bunched up around your waist, allowing Kiyoomi's hands to play with the string of your thong.

Kiyoomi's deep breaths lead you on as you kiss down his neck. "y/n, y/n, not here," he breathlessly rasps. He hears your whine as you grind a little harder into him. He laughs before bringing your face to look at him. His hairs a mess, shirt halfway unbottoned, and his breathless. What god do you have to thank for this sight.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa #sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x reader #hq sakusa #hq headcanons #hq imagines #hq smut #hq #sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyū!! #haikyuu fluff

[bunji-enthusiast]

I'm so sorry if I filled up your request box! I'll try and slow down the requests 💀

But, think about this, Catnap and Dogday both being clingy towards Smiling Critter! Reader 👀✨ perhaps they're both acting this way due to the Reader spending less time with them, part of it due to the Playcare getting busier and busier with new orphans coming in. The other Critters also felt a left out but not as much as Catnap and Dogday. The reader indulged them in their clinginess but oh my Prototype, the reader suddenly has to get transferred to the game station??

For what reason is up to you along with the rest of the idea, I wanna see what you can cooked up 👀✨

Good luckkk 👀✨👍

Alternative For Two

Note || I love a challenge! I hope this lived up to your expectations ��

WC || 1,279

Sypnosis || two clingy little boys desperately trying to get your attention once more, but what happens once they learn of your sudden transfer?

More often than not, you were quite distant. Indifferent to hanging around the other Smiling Critters, on a daily basis there always seemed to be more and more orphans coming in and out of Playcare. So you were busy tending to them as much as possible. 

Then there was DogDay and CatNap, they were also playcare attendants but they had a particular clinginess to hanging around you–you always indulged in affections for them. They were absolutely fluffy, and you didn’t mind putting aside some time for them.

Yet as of late, you were busier and busier with each passing moment. Well, not always could your time be occupied, by mandatory state regulation you had to have breaks from time to time. 

CatNap and DogDay were a little worried, being a little more clingy as time passed. You had wondered before why they were behaving this way, you just had been busy is all. There are many orphans to take care of and tend to.

“This is interestin’.” You murmur, seeing official paper of transfer right in front of your very eyes. You truly didn’t expect to see something like this today, but your only biggest problem is how you would tell your friends you are being transferred. No less the reason being it is for it. 

Especially with having two particularly clingy friends of yours at the hip, always vying for your attention for some odd reason.

Perhaps, you thought, that you could distance yourself for a while. Long enough for every single one of your friends to start getting detached from you, you weren’t going to be able to see them as often as you would anymore.

Even more-so, management had only just now decided to transfer you to game station of all places? 

“Crazy, if you ask me.” Another voice broke you out of your thoughts, “I thought Mommy handled the station?” KickinChicken, one of your many friends. He was more keen on keeping secrets more than anything, inquiring about the girgaum of information management that had been passing lately. 

You nodded, setting the paper at your side. “You're right, I suppose they needed more hands? There have been more and more orphans coming into both the game station and Playcare as of late.” You cross your arms, tapping your foot as you think about it more clearly. 

KickinChicken shrugs, not even a hint of amusement shining through his expression. “I dunno, but I really wished you could stay here with us.” 

You too, wished for the same condition. “Oh but, I feel bad for DogDay and CatNap too.” You mutter, your voice clearly not being masked as your strained emotions shined through. KickinChicken laid a hand on your shoulder, rarely had he been the one to reassure someone, but this was right now.

“When’s all said and done, they’re your friends.” Your yellow-feathered companion nodded without a shadow of doubt betraying his unwavering confidence, “I’m sure they’ll understand.” 

KickinChicken was right, they’re your friends you had reminded yourself–with an affirmed nod. “I guess you’d be right, I shouldn’t be that doubtful of them.” You spoke slowly, letting out a fluctuating groan once more. 

“Well,” He began after the time had passed, very awkwardly. “You’ve still got time and things to do here, right? Cherish it, y’know.” KickinChicken removed his feathered hand from your shoulder, taking a step back from you. 

“Anyway, I gotta go take care of some kids.” He waved, a silence filled the air before he finally decided to elaborate, “A group got assigned to me.” To which in turn you nodded, he prompted a step of hesitance–then left you alone with your thoughts. 

You sighed once KickinChicken left, your shoulders slumping as you were practically left in a defeated state.

Ah, why did the gift of existing have to be so complicated?

All the children in the room with you were right as rain, everything was going smoothly. You just didn’t expect such a sudden surprise from behind when a mysterious figure hugged you from behind, you yelped and turned around to see who it was. 

“CatNap!” You utter without missing a semblance of a beat, looking up to see his beady white eyes interlocking with yours. 

“Very… distant.” CatNap mumbled, audible enough for you to hear, no one else is close enough to hear your conversation. You raised a brow at what he had meant, blinking at him in confusion for a few moments to discern the meaning behind his words. He relaxed his hold on you, then sat down.

Finally, the cogs in your head had adjusted correctly, “OH! I’m just… pretty busy.” You nodded, “You know how it is with all the new orphans we’ve been taking in lately.” CatNap’s head lolled about as if he was heeding your words, considering them. 

“No kidding!” Another interjected, your head turned to figure the source of the new voice, it was DogDay! How surprising it is they are both with you now and again. “But I’m glad we can help them, they aren’t alone as we aren’t either Angel.”

DogDay nodded, proud of his statement. CatNap stepped sideways a little bit to make room for the sunny dog who was now sitting down next to CatNap. 

“I suppose this is an intervention or something?” You inquired, your brow raised with a quirk as you set down the box of toys that you had held steady in your hands. DogDay raised his hands, slightly flailing about as if a blush of embarrassment bloomed across his brightly orange-yellow face. “Not at all! We just like spending time with you.” DogDay replied, CatNap nodding along at the dog’s words as he spoke.

Your tense expression eased up, still not letting up on the fact you felt a ball of anxiety forming in your gut, about ready to cause you to burst into tears. About any emotion really. A sort of darkness overshadows your own heart in this very moment, allowing you to stay still and remain calm. Whatever your feeling right now was most likely untrue or unnecessary.

“Well alright, mind helping me with these then?” You heaved a heavy breath as you picked up the box of toys, gesturing to the other ones you had at your feet. 

DogDay and CatNap looked to where you had pointed, then nodded, already making movements to take one each and follow you behind. “So, I was wondering… maybe you want to hang out with the rest of us later?” DogDay wanted to ask what was up with you, but he didn’t want to probe you for answers, thinking it to be rude. Merely only asking a silly question.

“After this? Sure!” You grin, beaming with excitement at the prospect.

They really wished you would have stuck to your promise, you weren’t one to make and break promises just like that. DogDay was happy to hang with you again after some time now, as was CatNap (in spite of being a very tired cat). 

“We just now know of this?” DogDay’s voice trembled, holding the official paper that would notify you of transfer.

It had seemed you were whisked away to be transferred earlier to the game station then expected. Only KickinChicken knew of this, which was the only way to tell CatNap and DogDay about your predicament.

KickinChicken frowned, shrugging as his foot kicked away a stray plastic pebble. CatNap was remaining quiet, even more eerily than usual–that wasn’t normal. “M’ sorry, I assumed [First Name] would’ve told you beforehand?”

CatNap shook his head, DogDay’s fabricated lips pursed, his expression contorting to that of a defeated state.

You were really gone.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime dogday #catnap poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #idk what i was doing #lol

[pathetic-sapphic]

arcane characters and their toxic traits in a relationship?

Arcane characters and their toxic traits

a/n: it is almost 5 am so i haven't proofread it yet ;; hope you'll enjoy it regardless

VI

Tries to take on all the burden and suffering on her shoulders. She never wants you to get hurt or to bother you so she'd rather suffer in silence. This greatly affects your communication as she may get distant whenever she's dealing with some problems, which in turn may make you think that you did something wrong and that she's ignoring you. This simply comes from a traumatic past where Vi always had to take accountability and sacrifice herself for others. She will work on it once she sees the way it affects your relationship though. She just doesn't want to be a burden.

JINX

Very insecure when it comes to your love and loyalty towards her. Jinx is so used to thinking that everyone will eventually abandon her and you're the one person she really cannot lose. Because of this, she will often come off as overprotective and possessive. You will need to make your boundaries clear and reassure her often. Because she's so scared of losing you, sometimes she will go to drastic ends in order to make sure you're still happy with her and don't want to break up. Can also be very impulsive and has trouble sticking to the plans you two made.

CAITLYN

Can come off as insensitive when it comes to finances. Of course, she understands that many people aren't quite as well-off and Caitlyn genuinely cares for everyone but sometimes she doesn't quite understand how affluent she is. She might overwhelm you with expensive gifts, luxurious trips or over the top galas. She won't understand if you're ever hesitant when buying something or why you always make sure to see what's on sale at the market. It will take some time getting used to and you'll have to explain to Caitlyn the differences between your upbringings. Caitlyn isn't a judgemental partner, she just likes to spoil you, though she will tone it down if she notices you getting uncomfortable.

EKKO

Very stubborn when it comes to asking for or receiving help. He will push you away and hide his wounds or problems from you. Ekko is just so used to handling things on his own that he hates the idea of letting you bear his burden. He needs a long talk with you where you'll show him your support and help him realize the importance of confiding in one another. Ekko doesn't realize that it isn't a one-sided thing, meaning that if he helps you out when you need it, you'd do the same for him. Sure, he has the Firelights, many of them who are his friends but he rarely felt comfortable enough to confide in anyone. It's easy to forget that he is just a boy, trying to shoulder the weight of the world, and that he doesn't have to do it all alone.

SEVIKA

Surprisingly inexperienced when it comes to romantic relationships. Sevika rarely gets attached to someone, beyond the sexual sense. For her, lovers are people she sleeps with to release the tension and frustration that builds up during her shift. She never truly had a partner, someone to whom she can show her soft side, someone who will cherish her beyond her body and money. Because of this, she often struggles with showing love towards her partner in a non-sexual way or a way that doesn't include physical touch. Words. That is the biggest problem for Sevika; expressing her appreciation and adoration through kind declarations is something that will take a while for her to learn.

SILCO

Silco is often too focused on his cause towards Zaun and forgets his other priorities besides that one. This causes him to overwork and come off as cold towards anyone he deems a threat to his goal. Because of this, he may ignore his partner whenever he's stressed out and deep into work. He's also rarely home, and since he isn't a fan of PDA, it can be hard to deal with the feeling of missing him so much. He tries to make it up to you with gifts but you'll need to explain to him that such luxurious things cannot replace his touch and company.

VANDER

Similar to Vi (where do you think she got that trait from?), Vander is so used to shouldering everything on his own. He wants to assure for you to live a comfortable and fulfilled life, even at the cost of his own happiness. He works tirelessly to keep the Last Drop and the Lanes afloat and seldom shares the workload with you. You can see how the stress wears him down but he will deny it until he completely bursts under pressure. Vander doesn't understand how much it hurts to see him like this, but some kind words and gentle touches can help when coaxing him into leaning on you too.

VIKTOR

Workaholic who never takes care of himself. So burdened down with the little time that he has left, Viktor doesn't plan to waste any of it by doing trivial stuff such as eating or resting. As loving as he is, Viktor can be an insanely stubborn partner. You'll probably have to hoist him over your shoulder and lock the door to his office in order to take him away from work for a couple of hours. He doesn't realize just how detrimental the negligence when it comes to taking care of himself is to his health. You need to explain to him that he won't get anywhere by working himself to the grave and you'll probably have to beg him to let you take care of him.

JAYCE

As smart as he is when it comes to his field of work, Jayce can be quite dense and heedless of other people's feelings. If you're the type of person who doesn't know how to talk about their problems or struggles with communication, there will be some issues in your relationship with Jayce. He's the type of person who asks you what's wrong and, once you give him a half-assed 'Nothing, I'm fine.', he goes all 'okay :D', pats your back and wanders off. You need to be direct and blunt with him because hints and exaggerated sighs simply won't do the trick.

MEL

Mel is an incredibly intelligent woman who knows how to get what she wants. This means that she can be quite manipulative at times, I mean you have to be if you want to succeed in politics. She'd never act that way with you on purpose, of course not, but it may happen unintentionally. She is also another workaholic who may appear too cold with her feelings but this is simply because she's hesitant to bring her walls and defenses down. It'll take a lot of time and patience to see her vulnerable side.

GRAYSON

Grayson is sort of a combination between Viktor and Vander; works too much and is too selfless for her own good. Grayson takes her job very seriously, safety of the citizens is of the utmost importance to her. This leads to her neglecting her own well-being and health. Lots of caffeine and many long nights in the office are spent by Piltover's Sheriff and, the older she gets, the more it wears down on her. It's hard to ignore the bags under her eyes or the tiredness in her voice as she drags herself into your shared home late at night.

AMBESSA

Quite cold and guarded, someone who doesn't appreciate or understand feelings like mercy or kindness. She believes that every single person is inherently selfish and wants something from her. This is why she doubts your good nature so much in the beginning. It has been a long time since Ambessa let herself get involved romantically with someone so she has a lot of re-learning to do. This may come with a cost of your feelings being hurt from time to time, especially if you're a sensitive and kind-hearted person. As much as Ambessa loves you and tries to show that, it isn't easy to sweep years of experience under the rug. You'll need to be strong while she gets used to upholding a romantic relationship.

CASSANDRA

Cold and regal, oftentimes comes off as strict. Cassandra only wants the best for you but sometimes she just doesn't know how to say it. So instead she might go behind your back in order to ensure your safety and happiness. This often backfires, especially because of your opposing opinions. You feel as if she's treating you like a child while Cassandra simply thinks that she's looking out for you. Is also insanely stubborn, it'll take time for her to learn to look at things from your perspective.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane headcanons #sevika x reader #grayson x reader #viktor x reader #vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #jinx x reader #ekko x reader #silco x reader #vander x reader #ambessa medarda #jayce talis #mel medarda