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#Two Ravens at the Writing Desk
Note
“An emergency contact…” Yuu scratches their head. “Well, there’s one adult who stands out. Someone who has welcomed me with open arms, listened to my needs, and someone I really look up to and trust. Headmage Crowley! Do you have Trein’s cell number?”
Not gonna lie, you had me bawling in the first half 😂
Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.
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Up until now, Crowley had been nodding enthusiastically to your every comment. Feathers fluffed, eyes shut, as he bathed in the unearned praise. You could almost see his ego inflating right before you.
One adult who stands out.
A smile formed.
Someone who has welcomed me with open arms...
It grew, elevating the apples of his cheeks.
... listened to my needs...
He was glowing with pride, the most excited you had ever witnessed him.
... and someone I really look up to and respect.
His face might actually rip in half.
The you had dropped the bomb, and Crowley's entire demeanor collapsed in on itself. His shattered smile landed atop of the heap.
“Wh-What?! Professor Trein…!!” he managed to stutter out. “Did I hear you correctly?!”
"Yeah," you replied calmly. "Professor Trein."
"Wh-What exactly makes him a standout?!" Crowley demanded. When you gave him a queer look, he quickly deflected. "N-Not that I am envious, of course! I am asking as his employer so that I may take student feedback into consideration when calculating end-of-the-year performance-based bonuses."
"He's done so much to look after me and all of his students,” you patiently explained. “Professor Trein chaperoned us to the City of Flowers and taught us about its history. He ensured our safety when there was trouble afoot and even shed a tear for our moral character. I also heard from Ace and Deuce that Professor Trein oversaw NRC when Charon invaded campus.
“He always makes time to speak one-on-one with his students even on matters outside of schoolwork. Professor Trein cares about us like we're his real children and grandchildren. I'd totally trust him as my emergency contact.
“Compared to that… I seem to vaguely remember a certain someone who shirks his responsibilities at every opportunity, wastes his time on walks and snacks instead of running the school, offloads his duties onto children, and ignores my SOS calls when I was being held hostage over winter break.”
“I wonder who it could be that you’re speaking off.”
“Gee, I wonder,” you said sarcastically, staring right at Crowley. “Sucks that we’ll never know. Anyway, do you have Professor Trein's number or not?"
"W-Well!!" Crowley bristled, disarmed by your demand. "It wouldn't be very professional of me to hand out my employees' contact information as though it were Halloween candy! It's strictly confidential, I'm afraid I cannot divulge it."
He folded his arms smugly, waiting for you to change your mind, to beg for his cell phone number instead.
"Aaah, I get it." You shrugged, cool as a cucumber. "That's okay, I can ask Professor Trein directly myself. It was worth a shot to ask you anyway, headmaster. See ya!"
With that, you turned and exited his office. No fanfare, no groveling. Just... nothing.
Crowley completely deflated, cradling his head in his hands. He teased out a whiny groan.
"For them to overlook their most generous headmaster in favor of Professor Trein... Ooooh, where did I go wrong with that child...?"
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yuri-is-online · 4 months
Text
The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme
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"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.
But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?
notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.
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Two sentences.
Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.
Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 
Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.
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~~~~
Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.
“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  
“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.
“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  
“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  
“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”
“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”
“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  
“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-
“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  
You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 
“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.
“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.
“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.
“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 
“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.
“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.
“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  
“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.
“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.
~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.
“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.
“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”
“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”
“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”
“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.
“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”
“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”
“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.
“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.
“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.
“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.
“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.
“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”
“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.
“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.
It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.
~~~~
Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.
"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."
It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.
“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”
The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 
Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.
They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 
“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.
“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”
“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  
“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”
“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.
Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.
“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.
“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  
~~~~
For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.
“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  
“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.
“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  
“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”
“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”
“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 
“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 
“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”
“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.
“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.
“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”
“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  
“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  
“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.
“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.
“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  
“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”
“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.
“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”
“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.
“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.
~~~~
There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.
“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 
“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  
“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 
“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.
“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.
There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.
“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.
“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.
“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.
“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.
“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”
“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.
“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.
“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”
“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.
“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?
“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.
“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.
His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.
Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.
~~~~
“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  
“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.
“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.
“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.
“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  
“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.  Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.
Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?
“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”
“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  
“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”
“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.
“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.
~~~~
Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.
“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  
You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.
“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.
“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”
“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.
“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”
“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  
“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  
“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.
“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-
“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”
~~~~
“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.
“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”
“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  
“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”
“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”
“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”
“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”
“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 
“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”
~~~~
“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”
“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”
“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  
“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.
“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”
“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”
“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  
“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  
The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.
About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.
“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.
~~~~
“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”
“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.
“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”
“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  
“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.
“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”
“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”
“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.
“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.
“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  
“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”
“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.
“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.
“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”
“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.
Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.
Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.
Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  
What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?
He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.
“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.
“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”
“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”
“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-
“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.
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colonelarr0w · 10 days
Note
Hey hi hemlo
Love your writing style so much, that asshole Gojo fic made my heart squeeze like you wouldn't believe
Can I make a request?
A foreign Jujutsu Tech teacher/sorcerer struggling to do paperwork in Japanese. Satoru and/or Suguru try to help, but end up a distraction instead lol
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A Welcome Distraction
Sypnosis - Working is already grueling enough, made worse only by the human-sized distractions that are ... the loves of your life.
Warning(s) - None, this is really just pure fluff.
A/N - This really just spiraled into Gojo being an absolute distraction, but I hope y'all enjoy nonetheless!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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"There she is!" 
"Satoru … restrain yourself, even if it's just for a second." 
With a smile already curling the corners of your mouth upward, you turn your head to your classroom door – which had been swung open by Gojo, a wide smile already plastered onto his face. Not too far behind him was Geto, whose apologetic eyes flicker to you and whose lips quirk upward in an equally as apologetic smile.  
You say nothing as Gojo enters your classroom, beelining to where you sit behind your desk and wrapping his arms around you. His chin lowers to rest against the top of your head, a content hum rumbling in his throat when you lean back in his arms.  
“Hello sweet girl,” Gojo says with a wide smile, tilting his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You hum, then turning your head to watch Geto as he approaches. 
“Hi. What brings you both around here?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, turning in your seat to get a better look at Gojo. He peers over your shoulder, glancing at the unfinished paperwork that you had been tending to for the better part of two hours.  
Geto leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and sneaking a glance at your paperwork. “Hi honey, we just wanted to check in on you.”  
You smile, accepting the kiss that Gojo leans in to steal from you, his hands holding either side of your face as his lips curl into a boyish grin against your own.  
Geto rolls his eyes, reaching out to grip the collar of Gojo’s shirt and lightly prying him away from you; though he couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest at both of his lovers doting on one another.  
“That’s sweet of you both, but don’t you have physical training with your students today?” you tilt your head, remembering how Gojo was supposed to tend to the first-years and Geto the second-years.  
At the mention of fulfilling his teacher duties, Gojo groans childishly, hanging his head so that his forehead hits against your shoulder. His back arches uncomfortably, but his discomfort is lessened by the sound of your sweet laugh.  
“I let them have a small break, I couldn’t let Satoru run rampant,” Geto replies teasingly, grinning down at you. You set down the pen in your hand, lifting a hand to Gojo’s hair and scratching at his scalp — which he doesn’t hesitate to purr at.  
“Not true!” Gojo murmurs against your shoulder, removing his head from your shirt and turning to glance at Geto with a dramatic pout, bottom lip jutted out like a child who had been denied a snack before dinner.  
"It's entirely true love," you nod in agreement, chuckling breathily to yourself. Gojo huffs, this time completely disconnecting from you and taking a step away from your desk. He crosses his arms over his chest, still pouting.  
"You're both just so mean to me, and for no reason," he complains loudly, borderline stomping his foot against the ground as his gaze flickers between you and Geto. You turn to your raven-haired lover, both of you sharing a knowing smile just as Gojo grows annoyed with being ignored.  
Geto once again sneaks a glance at the paperwork scattered about your desk; ranging from mission logs given to you by Ijichi to student papers that you had procrastinated grading. His eyebrows furrow at the notes that you had scrawled into the paper's margins, but he doesn't bring any attention to it. 
"It's not being mean 'toru," you try to reason with your childish lover, but he merely presses his palms against his ears and hums obnoxiously. You sigh in exasperation, rubbing your temples before turning to Geto – your only saving Grace.  
Geto chuckles, catching Gojo as he dramatically falls into the former's arms, head knocking against Geto's broad shoulder.  
"Come now, you know she didn't mean it that way," Geto says, voice shaking as he struggles to hold back the chuckle that rises in his throat. "There isn't any reason for you to be this dramatic." 
It's your turn to chuckle now, the noise making both men smile lovingly at you. You half lean over your desk, arms covering your now abandoned paperwork as you turn your attention to both Gojo and Geto. 
"He's right, I don't mind that you both came to visit me," you say truthfully, lips still curled upward in that smile that your lovers could spend hours admiring. "I appreciate it actually." 
Gojo immediately disconnects himself from Geto's arms, beelining for you once again and wrapping you up in a bone-crushing embrace. You laugh heartily in his arms, squealing as he effortlessly lifts you from where you sit behind your desk.  
"'toru! I have work to do!" Your plea to return to working goes completely ignored by the snowy-haired man, who only tightens his grip around you and proceeds to spin you around. Geto joins in on the laughter, his chest warm and his eyes crinkled in a loving smile.  
Even with your complaining, and even with your pleading, you truly do love the distractions provided by not just one … but both of the loves of your life. 
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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 months
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Could I request a Principal Larissa Weems or Lesso? with 52,54,59? Maybe with her assistant? Maybe with some smut🫣. I was thinking that they would be cold to the reader bc they like them and then the reader says something like why do you hate me and then it leads from there.. but do what you feel most comfortable with!!! ( Also I love your writings they are so good and you are so talented<3)
Quivering at Your Touch ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Mommy!Younger(20s)!Assistant!Reader (feat. Morticia Addams)
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Summary— Sub!Larissa fic where Reader is Larissa’s assistant at Nevermore and they don’t really get along because Larissa is just cold to Reader all the time. But when Reader confronts Larissa, Reader finds that the tall blonde principal is a desperate sub who just wants to be a good girl for her mami… Anon Response— Hello anon!! You can absolutely request this! I would love to write this for you. I admit, I got a little carried away… Enjoy♥️
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
#52. “Fuck… Mommy! … Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?”
#54. “You can call me Mommy/Daddy if you want too…”
#59. “You… find this attractive?”
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, little fluff, eating out (oral sex), fingering, age gap (all legal), clit stimulation, grinding, humping, squirting, voice kink, sexy Spanish— I am not fluent so I apologize in advance for any mistakes, mami(mommy) kink, desperation, teasing, praising, light begging, light taunting, implied light overstimulation, implied Morissa, Morticia Addams, comforting, physical comforting, implied future smut, etc.
Enjoy (;
You walked into Ms. Weems’ office before the sun had even come up, handing over the paperwork that she had sent you home with last night. Being Ms. Weems’ assistant was your dream job. But it was not easy. The tall, blonde principal had high standards for herself and everyone else, especially her assistant.
After her near death experience, Morticia had convinced Larissa to hire an assistant, because according to the raven haired goddess, “You cannot carry the weight of the world, neigh Nevermore, on your shoulders alone, Mon Chérie…” Morticia had cooed late one summer night into the blonde’s exposed ear.
So, Larissa had began looking and interviewing two weeks before the new school year started. She had put out the news that she was interested in hiring an assistant, and soon the woman had resumes to look through. It had been almost two weeks and Larissa hadn’t found anyone suitable, when you had walked through the door of her office.
Larissa took an immediate liking to you. You were intelligent, organized, well-dressed and well mannered. After a mere twenty minutes, the tall blonde was offering you the job. You had eagerly accepted and moved into Nevermore at once. And the new school year started with a quick bang. And just as quickly, your work began.
“Here is your schedule for the week and those quarterly reports for this semester that you requested, Ms. Weems.” You spoke in a professional and formal manner, as always and as expected, as you handed the blonde principal the files.
Larissa looked up from her computer, reaching out and taking the files.
“Thank you, Miss L/N.” Larissa hummed, then standing up and going over to her cabinets of files, “One thing before you leave…”
You knew that Principal Weems was on first names basis’ with most of the staff, as far as the tall principal using pet names for some of your colleagues. The fact that after over nine weeks of working for this woman that she never wavered from Miss L/N, and she always expected Ms. Weems or Principal Weems made you sad. You knew it shouldn’t, she was your boss after all. But it did.
“Yes?” You asked, raising your head in her direction as she moved across the room.
Larissa paused to look through the many files, before pulling one out and coming back around her desk and up to you. She handed you the file, looking at you expectantly.
“Parent Teacher Conferenecs are coming up throughout the week, I need these typed up and reviewed before the end of today.” Larissa instructed you in her professionally cold tone, the tone that she only used for formal principal meeting, events and for you.
You nodded, taking the file, and looking away to blush at the intense eye contact.
“Yes Ms. Weems…” you spoke out, “Is there anything else…?”
Larissa went back to sit at her desk chair, then looking back at you with a stoic face.
“That will be all, Miss Y/N.” The blonde principal calmly stated, “You are excused until my first parent teacher conference, where I will be expecting you to take notes.”
You nodded and murmured, “Yes ma’am…”, before shuffling out of her office and going back to sit back in your tiny assistant area, designated to you by Ms. Weems.
You sat down with a deep sigh, Larissa’s tone internally eating away at you. You hated how cold she always was… You didn’t think you’d ever down anything to her. But you must have. Because the warm, caring, tall Principal that you saw interacting with students and her staff was a shallow, cold bitch to you when you were alone.
For the rest of the day, you made sure to attend all of the woman’s meetings, taking diligent notes and remaining silent, as she would glare at you if you said a word. By the end of the day, you were tired and still had some of the papers for the conferences to finish. You worked until you had completed all of the work Ms. Weems had given you. You walked into Ms. Weems’ office, it was way past time for you to be off for the day, but alas.
“Ms. Weems?” You called, knocking and then opening the door, only to enter when she permitted you.
“Come in…” Larissa hummed, not even taking the moment to meet your gaze in curteous recognition.
You closed the door behind you, before taking a deep breath.
“Here are the conference files you asked me to fill out, along with my notes from today’s meetings…” You spoke, waking up to her desk and handing over the files.
Larissa continued working.
“Leave them here, Miss L/N…” the woman coolly spoke out, “You are excused for tonight. I will see you early tomorrow.”
A wave of frustration came over you, as you left the papers and turned to leave. You felt your eyes begin to water, as her hurtful treatment seemed to finally hit a nerve. Something about today, and maybe all the other times, made you turn swiftly on your heel, back towards the woman.
“Ms. Weems…?” You choked out, your voice faltering.
The woman hummed lightly, letting you know that she heard you, but not giving you the time of day for any eye contact or actual words.
“I…” you walked back to her desk, “Why do you hate me…? Have I… done something…? Is… my work not up to your standard…?” You stammered, your voice breaking throughout your sentences.
At your words, Larissa stopped typing on her computer. She then very slowly raised her head and her intense gaze finally met yours. She then closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with a deep sigh.
“No Darling, your work is impeccable…” Larissa sighed.
The petname sent warm shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your skin. And at hearing her compliment, a faint blush immediately began to creep up around your cheeks. You were able to take a little sigh of relief at her words, but an underlying pit in your stomache still tugged at you nonetheless.
“Oh—Ok. Then… why do you treat me like…” you stammered, struggling on how to express your feelings without offending your boss.
“Cold? Abrasive? Harsh?” Larissa scoffed at herself, finishing your thought far more direct than you would have ever admitted to.
Your blush deepened and you nodded slowly.
“Yes” you softly stated.
“Because…” Larissa sighed, clasping her hands together and biting her lip before continuing, “I don’t hate you, Darling… Far from it.”
You knew you could hear Larissa’s words, but they didn’t seem to register, as your face was still plastered with confusion and broken spirit.
Larissa’s expression slowly softened at the sight of yours. She then proceeded to stand up, coming over to the other side of her desk, the one closest to you. She indicated for you to sit on the couch by the fire. As she walked to the burning fireplace next to the couch, you scurried to take a seat, then looking up at the woman, whose face was now a myriad of emotions.
“Y/N… You…” Larissa began softly and with the most vulnerable tone you’d ever heard from the formal woman, “You are the most marvelous woman—person, that I’ve ever encountered…”
She paused to take another deep sigh before continuing, “You are brilliant at your job, I have never had anyone do their job as well as you do yours, the passion and effort you put into your work is unmatched. From the very first time I met you, I knew there was something about you. Your personality, your heart is so warm and you are so caring…”
Your eyes widened the more the woman confessed, and your lips parted slightly in shock. You wondered if this was a dream… Where you hearing the woman correctly…?
But when Larissa leaned forward and grasped your hands in hers, you knew this was no dream. Her sapphire gaze bore into yours intensely, and her eyes radiated truth. You gasped lightly at the touch, and found yourself immediately yearning for more. But her gaze and face then turned sad. And in the at moment, you would have some anything to make the tall blonde smile.
“I… I apologize for the way I treated you… I thought… I thought that if I kept you at a distance that I wouldn’t get hurt… But I see now that my actions, while protecting me, ended up hurting you… and that was never my intention, Darling. For that I am truly sorry…”
She squeezed your hands reassuringly, as her remorseful gaze met yours. The realization of the woman’s words started to creep into your mind. A rogue tear managed to slip past your watch, rolling down your cheek. Larissa’s heart nearly broke them and there, having to watch you process your past few months of agony.
“Protect yourself from what…?” You whispered, as you met her gaze once more.
At your question, Larissa looked away and a light rosy blush flushed her cheeks. She sighed once more and then began to chuckle lightly at herself.
“Protect myself from my feelings…” Larissa admitted, biting her lip anxiously, “And now that I think about it, it seems so absurd.”
These words were the final piece of the puzzle that you had spent months searching for. Suddenly, all the pieces came into place, it all made sense. And a wave of calm seemed to flow over you.
Without thought, instinct had you raise your hand and cup the woman’s flushed cheek. Her head immediately swiveled back toward you, her eyes widened at your bold move. But she didn’t pull away, quite the opposite in fact, you found that the woman only leaned into your touch, closing her eyes and letting out a hum in contentment.
“Larissa Weems, are you saying that you like me?” You softly asked, with a little smile and a light twinkle in your eyes.
The woman’s eyes fluttered open and at first, her face was panicked, but once she saw the calm expression on your face, she seemed to relax a little.
“I… I suppose so…” Larissa whispered, her face radiating raw vulnerability.
You smiled even brighter, caressing the woman’s cheek with one hand, as her hands held your other one. The tall blonde then fell gracefully to her knees, now sitting right in between your legs and right up against your couch. And she looked up at you, searching for some, any direction.
“I like you too…” you whispered back.
Larissa entire body seemed to be needing to hear those words, because as soon as they left your mouth, a weight was lifted from the blonde’s soul. And before you knew it, the woman was curling up in your lap. Your jaw threatened to drop, but you restrained yourself. Never in your life had you expected the cold, formal Principal Weems to be in your lap and purring like a content cat.
You gently reached out to her, running your fingers along her tight back hair. She raised her head into your hand with another hum, encouraging you. So you began to take out the pins of the woman’s hair, one by one, until her curls were falling onto your lap and you could run your fingers through her hair freely. The entire time, Larissa was snuggled up in your lap, purring in delight.
You chuckled to yourself, wondering what it would be like if someone walked in… but that thought quickly slipped away, as the ambience of the moment took over your mind. The fireplace crackling and giving a soft glow to the room, seemed to make it all feel more intimate. Not to mention Larissa being literally in your lap, also made it far more intimate..
Time passed naturally, as the woman continued to purr in your lap and you continued to run fingers through her hair, eventually moving to massage her tense shoulders. The blonde let out little whimpers and groans every now and then, which you found to be utterly adorable.
Larissa began adjusting her position for you, so that you could scratch and massage all the itches and tensions littered around her stressed out body. The woman ended up straddling your lap, her head tucked into the crook of your neck as you massaged a particular knot from her upper spine.
She let out a groan as you kneeded the knot out of her tense muscle, inadvertently bucking her hips into your lap and releasing a particularly breathy whimper along with it. Larissa’s mouth opened and her eyes widened in light shock at her overtly sexual actions.
Your eyes sparkled at the shift in tone of the scene, your hands traveling to the woman’s hips, starting to guide her hips to lightly grind against your form beneath her. Larissa’s hands shot to your shoulders as she arched her back and rolled her head back with another groan, this one most definitely sexual. Her eyes fluttered shut as you helped her get off against your frame.
“That’s it… Let me help you relax, Ms. Weems…” you cooed lovingly, eagerly drinking in the other woman’s frame.
“L-Larissa please Darling…” Larissa insisted with another breathy groan, as she continued to grind down against your lap.
You chuckled lightly and nodded.
“Alright Larissa…” you teased her name on your tongue, making the woman melt into a puddle in your lap.
You slowly shifted her frame onto one of your thighs, so that she could grind her core against your tensed thigh more effectively. The blonde was quick to catch on, letting her dress rile up her thighs as she began to put her grinding weight against your tensed muscles.
Larissa let out a mutter of expletives, words that you never would have thought to come out of such a proper woman’s lips. But it felt so right in the moment as the blonde was holding onto you for dear life, as she rutted against your thigh. You could feel the warmth of her pussy on your thigh, as you tightly held her hips and guided her further towards her impending climax.
Breathy whimpers and groans spewed from Larissa’s lips, her eyes were screwed shut tight, all of her previous inhibitions lost, as she unabashedly got herself closer and closer to her high. When she was teetering on the edge, you gripped her hips tighter, keeping her sloppy grinding in a rhythm and your lips snuck to the shell of her ear.
“Cum for me, Larissa… Te ves tan hermosa así… Let go, let it all out.”[You look so beautiful like that…] You purred into the blonde’s ear.
It only took a couple more grinding motions before the woman was coming undone on top of you. Letting out a strangled moan, she rode her high as best as she could before collapsing on top of your chest with heavy panting.
“Eres una chica muy buena, Larissa…”[You’re such a good girl, Larissa…] you praised the blonde.
Larissa couldn’t help but blush, she could recognize praise, even when it wasn’t in English. You let her gather her self in your lap, and the minutes past in comfortable silence. Eventually, Larissa stirred, sitting up once more and meeting your gaze.
“You’re sexy when you speak Spanish…” she breathed out, before her eyes went wide and she instantly began to correct her statement, “What I meant…! You’re always sexy— no I…!”
You hushed Larissa by leaning into her and connecting your lips swiftly with hers. Larissa immediately leaned in, impossibly close to you, her hands coming to cup your cheeks, pulling you even closer. You hummed into the passionate kiss, which seemed to be reigniting Larissa’s lust once more. Not to mention your own…
“You… find this, my Spanish… attractive?” You breathlessly whispered into her lips.
Larissa eagerly nodded before smashing her lips back into yours, and you practically purred in delight. Your lips and teeth began to clash together as hour respective hungers grew. Larissa happily allowed you to slip your tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss even further. Pretty soon, the woman was encouraging you to pick her up, which you eagerly did, carrying her to her attached private quarters.
“Eres tan hermosa, mi amor. Quiero mostrarte lo guapa que eres...”[You are so beautiful, my love. I want to show you just how gorgeous you are…] you whispered against her hungry lips, as you devoured one another.
Larissa bucked her hips against your frame and spewed a string of breathy whimpers as a result of your Spanish. You placed Larissa on the center of the bed as your mouth began to wander past the woman’s lips and towards her neck and shoulders… Larissa gasped as you sucked on her pressure point, her hands scrambling to pull you even closer, tugging you onto the bed with her.
Soon, hands were flying to zippers and buttons, as the two of you practically tore each other’s clothes off in the heat and passion of the moment. The blonde’s dress pooled at her feet as you unbuttoned your pants, both being thrown aside, along with your shirt. Your nimble fingers unclipped both her bra and your own, both of which were also tossed aside.
Now left in nothing but your knickers, you guided the woman to lay back on the bed, propping herself up by her elbows. You crawled on top of Larissa, perching yourself to straddle her stomache before connecting your lips together once more. The blonde let out a whimper into your lips, as her hands dropped her fully on the bed and shot to your exposed skin, wandering and feeling their way down your body. Her fingers stopped and paid special attention to your sensitive buds.
“Dios mío, vas a ser mi muerte...”[My God, you’re going to be the death of me…] you breathed out into her lips, her teasing causing you to buck your hips against the blonde’s form.
Another whimper erupted from Larissa’s throat in response, desperate for more friction. You pressed your lips once more time against her plump red ones, a mere ghost of a kiss, before starting to slowly run down her body, paying special attention to each bit of exposed skin that the woman had to offer. Larissa’s one hand shifted to your head, eagerly attempting to push you further down, down to where she needed you most. Her other hand wandered up to her own nipple, teasing and tugging to deepen her own pleasure. When you showed no signs of speeding up your worshiping of the woman’s body, Larissa began to beg,
“Darling P-please… I need you… need you so bad… need it… give it to me—” Larissa chocked out in a mewl.
Your mouth was attached to her left nipple as she spoke, arching her back into your touch. You let go of her tit with a pop!, and then smiled before shimmying your body further down her frame. Lowering your face down to her clothed, needy cunt, you licked a stripe along her underwear, right above her core. Larissa’s knees buckled and her hips jerked upwards, towards your face.
“¿Es esto lo que quieres? Te ves tan bien, cariño…”[Is this what you want? You look so good, my darling] you purred, fanning your hot breath onto her quivering pussy.
You were quick to hold her shaking thighs down, so that she didn’t accidentally suffocate or hit you from her impending intense pleasure. Larissa struggled a little against your firm hold, but as your grip tightened on her thighs, she quickly became even more desperate in her pleading.
“Christ Y/N Please!! Stop teasing and just… just fuck mami please!” Larissa cried out, desperately bucking her hips to encourage any kind of friction with the throbbing heat.
Her face flushed and all her motions came to a halt at the name just uttered from her lips, and the blonde began to stamer.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… Darling it, slipped out…? I—”
With a chuckle, you hooked your fingers along the waistband of her knickers. Tapping her hips, the woman couldn’t meet your gaze from the embarrassment but nonetheless she instinctually raised her hips and thighs for you. You then pulled off her last garment, throwing it into the abyss. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of Larissa’s glistening cunt. You looked up and met the blonde’s goddess figure and then her lustful, hooded gaze. She nodded in desperation, encouraging you to take her.
With one final teasing, hot breath to the woman’s cunt, you finally gave in and began lapping your tongue through her folds. Her back arched deliciously into your hot touch, her fingers curling in your hair and into the bed sheet. As your tongue flicked her clit, the woman’s head lolled back and her eyes fluttered shut, completely forgetting her verbal slip up for the moment.
“Oh yessss… Yes yes yes…!” She chanted, her mind swimming in overwhelming pleasure.
You swiftly pulled away however, making Larissa’s head shoot up and give you the most needy pout and whimper.
“You can call me Mami if you want too…” you purred wickedly, before swirling two fingers in her wetness and then sliding the digits into her core.
Larissa let out an unbridled groan, her fingers digging into your scalp as her walls fluttered around your fingers. You fucked the woman at a decent pace, pumping and curling your fingers inside her core, paying close attention to what motions made her toes curl especially. Her eyes fluttered closed. Larissa was huffing and whimpering more and more, and soon the sounds turned into full on moans.
“Eyes on me, hermosa…” you lustfully purred, drawing the blondes hooded gaze back to yours.
“Y-yes mami—” Larissa choked out.
Her blown out pupils met your sultry gaze. Her face flushed at the intense eye contact. She held your head in a vice grip as your fingers thrusted inside her expertly and your mouth latched onto her aching clit. Larissa’s back arched desperately in your touch, and one of your hands moved up from her thighs to tease her perked, straining buds.
It didn’t take long for the blonde to be teetering on the edge again…
“Mami mamiiiii…!!” Larissa babbled, shaking her head violently and fighting the urge to screw her eyes shut tight and scream,
“AhgghhhhHhH GOD pleaseeee—!!!” She cried out, her hips thrashing and body spasming.
“Vamos, vamos... Cum for me… lo tienes, mi dulce chica…”[Come on, come on…You’ve got it, my sweet girl…] you purred gently, curling your fingers with huge words to perfectly hit that spongey spot inside the woman’s core.
Larissa’s breath faltered and suddenly her orgasm was washing over her, her juices gushing out of her and onto your fingers as her walls clenched around your fingers. Your tongue eagerly lapped up all the woman’s arousal, practically keening over at her taste. Then with sudden force, the woman’s core squirted all over your fingers and face. You moaned in delight, eagerly taking all that Larissa would give you.
She was so wrapped up in her orgasm, Larissa hadn’t even registered that she had squirted. But even as she came down from her high, the older woman still seemed to be not fully satisfied. She was squirming in pleasure, in need for more, babbling and begging for it…
“Mami mami—por favor, necesito más, necesito más…!!”[Mommy mommy—please, I need more, I need more…] Larissa pleaded with a desperate cry, her hips bucking against your face is desperation.
You nearly moaned into the woman’s cunt at her pleading, her tone, her words, her voice… You couldn’t deny the fact that even broken Spanish sounded sexy on her tongue… It made you shiver with anticipation. With one last lick to her cunt to rock her back from her orgasm, you pulled out of her cunt. Larissa immediately whimpered at the loss of feeling.
“Vale, vale, te escucho, dulce chica… Tell me what you want, bueno chica… Use your words for me…”[Ok ok, I hear you, sweet girl… good girl…] you cooed.
The following sweet babbles that flowed out of the submissive blonde’s mouth were like music to your ears. And you were more than happy to grant any request this woman made of you. Hell, with a simple please from her lips, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for that woman…
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
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themotherofhorses · 10 months
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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: “she’s a bastard—‘innit the truth, mother?”
warnings: explicit language. angst. much angst. nothing but angst. i cannot stress it enough.
notes: well this is rather unfortunate.
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
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The raven arrives at nightfall, at an hour so late that only Aemond is awake to accept it. The princeling could not find sleep that night, instead rolling off the bed and crossing the chambers to his windows, before pulling back the heavy tapestries and throwing them open one by one.
The cool air is a welcoming feeling to his feverish skin, hot to the touch from hours of lovemaking under the sheets.
He stands facing the darkness, naked and at utter peace, in pure happiness. His precious girl sleeps soundly behind him, with the thick furs pulled up to her chin, hiding the most of her beneath the blankets. She is so utterly beautiful in the moonlight. It’s been three long months since his sons were born, and Aemond was beginning to hope his seed would again take. His loins ache at the thought, and he fights the sudden urge to slip in between her thighs. Perhaps she’d give him a daughter this time.
In his dreams, she wears her mother’s face, in a gown of Targaryen colors with a dragon hatchling sitting on her shoulder. She pokes him awake in the morning, and pleads for a quick ride atop Vhagar before grandmother arrives to begin her history lessons.
His daughter has his love’s eyes and smile, he thinks again, and her nose scrunches up in the same way hers does.  
I want it.
He shakes his head.
Let her rest, you fool.
When the black raven arrives at his windowpane, he is a bit confused. He waves the bird away before it could make another squawk, and stares down at the scroll taken from it, eying the blood-red ribbon tied into a pretty, tight knot around. In his head, he weighs the choices in taking it as his own. Should he…? Or should he not? His curiosity clashes with his righteousness.
Aemond decides to, in the end.
He takes the scroll to his desk, quietly lighting a small candle before taking a seat and unrolling it out to read. The writing is in pretty cursive yet smells of cheap ink, with a slight smudge staining the edge of the paper. It is addressed to his handmaid, he realizes, starting with her name that leads to a sweet congratulations on her newfound motherhood. Twins, your uncle had said. How marvelous to hear. I hope to meet them soon, my dear.
With all the love in this lifetime—your mother, Alys Rivers.
“With all the love in this lifetime,” he repeats aloud, shaking his head, refusing to believe. His fingers tighten around the letter, the tips turning a jarring white. “Your mother, Alys Rivers.”
Aemond then glares up at the woman lying in his bed, a bitter twist on his mouth. She shifts a little bit beneath his gaze, but remains relaxed and asleep and blissfully ignorant of the rising anger sparking deep inside him.
Who is she? For the first time since he met her, he asks himself that.
He should’ve suspected this.
“A bastard, Lord Beesbury, mothered by the daughter of a milk cow.”  
Aemond turns away from her, back to the darkness outside.
Her mother is a bastard rivers woman, it seems. At least that is how it reads. Alys Rivers. She carries no man’s last name in her letter. What is her daughter, if not the same as her? He picks at his mind, trying to remember if she ever mentioned her father. Aemond returns to staring up at the moon and the white stars blinking high above in the midnight sky.
He suddenly feels no desire to return to bed with her tonight.
But she is the mother of your children, his mind argues, and it leaves him irritated.
She’s given him two heirs, his first-born children, beautiful twin boys that are mirrors to their own father, himself. And the daughter he’s dreamt of…But…they’re bastards too, he then reminds himself. You love them the same way you love her, do not lie to yourself. It was not enough to ease his thoughts, and reason with him, and stop the ugly bitterness from rising in his throat.
Damn her.
Aemond stuffs the letter inside one of the desk drawers, not wishing to lay eyes on it again. Maybe he’ll burn it later in the day. He then shrugs on his robe, tying it around his waist, before leaving the room. She’ll wake up in the morning, and search for his hand buried within the sheets. When she realizes she is alone in the bed, he knows she will pout before readying to tend to her babies, like the mother he’s made her into.
Damn her.
Then she will move on to her responsibilities, like the silly, dumb handmaid she is.
Damn her.
That is all she should’ve remained, Aemond thinks, curiously calm as he strides down the hallway. He doesn’t know where he is going, but he knows he will not return this night. Bastards never amount to anything else.  
Aemond hasn’t spoken to her in three days, dismissing his handmaid from his bedchamber before he retires for the evening. She no longer fetches his hot baths or crawls beneath the blankets with him. He hasn’t allowed it. He avoids the nursey too, where he knows his twin sons sleep in their cots, too young to notice their father’s absence. Aemond walks the halls of the Red Keep, as he has walked a thousand times before, but disregards all the rooms where he knows her presence painfully lingers.
She does not fight nor question him. He knows she won’t.
“Aemond.”
He hears her voice in his slumber, always- sometimes in a breathless whisper, and most times in a scream, or a whimper, or an anguished howl. She always manages to find him, following him into his dreams and nightmares and antagonizing him into insanity. Her shadow stands over his bed. And around her neck dangles the sapphire necklace, while her pretty eyes weep both tears and blood.
“Aemond, please!” she cries, bawling up the sides of her dress in her fist. The plain cloth is stained in dried blood, splashed across her belly and thighs. “Aemond, please, I need you, husband!”
“AEMOND.”
This time tonight, it causes Aemond Targaryen to jerk upright, pulled from a horrible nightmare that still clouds his thoughts. The sheets are tangled between his fingers, and his heart is heaving heavily within his breast. He hears her voice echoing, begging for her husband. “Aemond.” His attention quickly darts to the door, where his mother stands, tall and regal and noticeably pissed. She calls his name again loudly. Although still groggy, he stumbles his way towards her.  
His mother does not greet him. Instead, her brown eyes remain on his empty bed, skimming across the sheets and the way the heavy fur blanket nearly hangs off the foot of his bed. He must’ve kicked it off him during his sleep.
She frowns at the sight, before looking back at him.
“So it is true, then.”
Aemond rubs at his eye, tilting his head in confusion. “What is true, mother?”
“That she hasn’t been seen in your room for the past three days; instead, she’s returned to her old room across the castle, where the other maids sleep. Three days, and three nights.” His mother spoke in anger, yet her face remained a mask that betrayed nothing. It is one thing he greatly admired about her, in the same way it terrified him the most. “And you haven’t visited your sons as well, I’m told.”
He flushes. “I’ve been busy,” he grumbles, shifting on his bare feet. “I’ll see them tomorrow, in the morning after we break fast together.”
“Tomorrow? You’ll see them tomorrow? AEMOND!” she shouts, incredulous. Her hair hangs loosely around her face, and she pushes a thick strand behind her right ear. “You wanted these babies so badly, and yet you are beginning to neglect them before their second nameday. Have you lost all fucking sense?!”
Aemond bites his tongue in an attempt to keep his own temper from flaring up in response to her yelling. He says nothing in return, which he knows only upsets his mother further.
“What has happened, Aemond?” she asks. “This is unlike you. You love those boys, and that girl too.”
“Nothing,” he says, a bit too quickly. “Nothing has happened. I’ve simply been too busy to play anymore games with her.”
“Games? Games?! That is all shit,” his mother blazes. “Utter shit. Do not begin to take me as a fucking fool, Aemond. I am not your father, and I am not your brother, and eldest sister either. Now you tell me, boy, what has happened.”
Aemond sighs. “She’s a bastard—‘innit the truth, mother?” He meets her eyes and feels his poor heart sinking at the silent shock that instantly falls across her features and the way she makes no move to deny it. “A bastard.” Saying it aloud, it makes him wish to return to his bed, and curl up in his sheets, completely hidden from this cruel world that damned him to fall in love with a stupid bastard girl. “A damn, no good, bastard girl from Harrehnal—”
But he is then cut off by a sharp backhand blow to the side of his face that quickly sends him stumbling two steps back, almost falling hard against the wall. Aemond holds his cheek, breath hitching as he brushes a tender finger against the already reddening skin that he knows will surely show a dark bruise on the morrow. It feels hot, and it stings. He looks up at his mother, who has never hit him before.
“How dare you speak of her in such a way,” she spits, purpled with rage. Her hand twitches at her side, as if she itches to slap him again. He deserves it, he thinks. “HOW DARE YOU. She is the mother of your children, and you dare behold her with such loathing venom?”
“AND YOU DID NOT THINK TO TELL ME BEFOREHAND?” he shouts back, half hurt from the realization that she watched him fall smitten with the bastard, and never thought to tell him the truth. “She is the cousin of those bastards that took my eye, their own blood!”
“And? It is the truth, yes, that she is a riverlands bastard, born to a woman at Harrenhal. Lord Larys is her true uncle, who brought her to us at my request. But damn you, Aemond, that girl is so fucking in love with you.”
All his words fall stuck in his throat, and he fails to push them out.
“Have you nothing more to say?”
His queen mother sniffs when he says nothing, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. Perhaps it is best she drinks the moon tea, lest she gives you another child that you won’t love nor appreciate because of its mother’s unfortunate bastardy.” Aemond remains silent, and her mouth drops into another scowl. “You lied to me when you promised that you would never be your father or Aegon.”
I am not, he wants to scream out. His knees buckle in weakness at her cruel words, and the sheer disappointment laced within them. It hurts worse than her slap.
I love her so much, I swear, and my boys too. I love anything she gives me, and I promise…I promise…I promise…
“You, Aemond, carry their eyes and hair and nose, everyone can see. But I know the truth now—you carry their pig attitude as well,” she remarks, pushing herself toward him. “I’ll send her back to her mother, I promise, and find another handmaid for you, one that is to your liking.”  
She says not another word, instead turning to the houseguard that had accompanied her to his hall. “I’m tired. Please help me back to my bedchamber,” she asks, pressing her fingertips against his temple. “I would appreciate such, my good knight.”
His mother leaves him silent and still, sad and scared and helpless and heartbroken, staring down at his toes as they grow damp from his tears.
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tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67 @iiamthehybrid @bellstwd @katzarantos @crazymusicgirl104
taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke
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shirakow · 21 days
Note
I was wondering if you could write some Vincent x reader smut from dead plate? There’s barely any on this site and I need my fix😭
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˗ˏˋ꒰ synopsis ꒱ ; Vincent's always so mean to you, especially at work. (18+)
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍇 pair ⋅ ˚✮ ; Vincent Charbonneau x GN!Reader .
. . . words ; 1.3k+
EXTRA ! here you go boo, sorry if it's not up to your expectations ^3^ I wrote this in one sitting at 3 am so this is not proof read <3
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"I'm mean to you?" Vincent frequently asked you on multiple occasions, only because you brought it up once and now he wouldn't let it go.
He'd unexpectedly corner you near the dumpster whenever you take the trash out—it wasn't the most romantic meet-up spot, even he knows—but it's the only place where he could be alone with you.
That or his office. But it's not like he can call you there every hour of the day, or else the chefs and Rody might get suspicious, right? So he only does it every few days.
This day is one of the few.
"Have you been watching Rody like I told you to?" He'd ask you in that same deep and brooding voice of his—charming, with a hint of danger that always lingered in his tone whenever he talked.
You just looked up at him with tear stained cheeks as he stared back down at you, "Oh right," the corner of Vincent's lip quirked upward upon remembrance. "I forgot your mouths too full." He pushed your head back down on his cock, forcing you to deepthroat him as a gutteral moan came out from his mouth.
"There we go... At least you're good for something..." Vincent whispered breathlessly, momentarily forgetting that he needs to be quiet, or else someone'll hear him and catch the two of you in such an embarrassing predicament.
However, he could just play it off: say he stubbed his toe while he makes eye contact with Rody while you keep sucking him off from under his desk. He'll make sure to start small talk with Rody too just to embarrass you further.
You gagged and drooled all over his dick, the ache in your throat growing more immense the more he continued to fuck it like his personal fleshlight. But despite the pain—you slobbered all over his cock like a fucking prostitute.
Vincent let his head fall back as his teeth bit down on his bottom lip with a silent curse following after it. His slender fingers loosened it's hold on your hair, giving you a moment of respite to breathe and slow your pace down.
Noticing the way you hesitated to continue, Vincent ran his hand down to caress your throat; gently massaging and rubbing the skin with his cold fingers.
"Was I being too hard on you?" His voice purred almost teasingly. You slowly nodded with tears rolling down your cheeks, silently enjoying the way he gave attention to your aching throat. You took his wet cock out your mouth, and gave the bright red tip a kiss, before running your tongue down the side—tracing the veins while maintaining eye contact with Vincent.
You saw the glint that appeared in his raven eyes, "What?" Vincent let out a breath which you assumed was a laugh, "Is this your way of begging?" He gave a small grin. Vincent moved his hand away from your throat, which earned a whine from you.
"Don't worry," he hummed and parted your lips, using his thumb to toy with your tongue as he pumped his cock, "I'll massage it from the inside..." Vincent whispered and slapped the tip on your tongue, "Now be a good little cocksucker and keep my dick in your mouth."
Vincent's always so mean to you, regardless if you were in and out of work. But he's especially so when you're at work.
Sometimes, he'd finger your hole before opening hours, stretching it to his hearts content while whispering all kinds of things into your ear.
"Imagine how they'll react when they see my server bent over my desk..."
"Having you walk around with a toy in your ass while you work...~"
"And the fact you're just letting your boss have his way with you too? Aren't you just a naughty thing."
And then when you're about to cum, Vincent would pull his fingers out and make you lick them clean. You'd beg and beg for him to make you cum, but Vincent only shoves his fingers down your throat to shut you up.
He'd have a grin on his face while he does it too, because he knows how much you hate it when he leaves you aching for more.
Right before you leave his office, he would put a pink vibrator in your hole and let you prance around the whole restaurant with him knowing you have something in you to remember him by.
He'd occasionally turn the level up by one, but most of the time, he'd turn it up to max just to see you squirm from the pleasure. Vincent would watch you from the hole in his office as his hand fisted his cock at the sight of you flushed with embarrassment.
Vincent felt so dirty whenever he does that, but he can't deny that acting the slightest bit perverted didn't turn him on.
He doesn't make any exceptions, however. So if you mess up at all during work hours: he will not let it slip. Even if it's because you have a toy in you, Vincent will not hesitate to punish you after closing hours.
If you let even the slightest moan out your mouth—best believe you're gonna get ravaged.
"I told you... Not to make a fucking noise." Vincent panted into your ear, tightening the belt around your neck as he takes you from behind. Your perky ass bent over his desk while he drills his cock into your hole.
Vincent reached for vibrators remote, and turnt it up to the max level; feeling it vibrate against your gummy walls along with his dick that rubbed your prostate. "Feel that? Feel my cock kissing the deepest parts of you?" He groaned against your shoulder.
You squealed into the gag, the overstimulation being too much for your poor sensitive body. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head from the sweet pleasure he gave you. If it weren't for the ball in your mouth, you'd be screaming Vincent's name over and over again like a prayer.
Your face was flushed with sweat dripping from your forehead, and down to the discarded news paper articles of missing people on his desk.
He gave the leather belt another tug, and you made a choking sound. Vincent grunted at the noise you made, finding pleasure in knowing he controls your breathing.
He could cut it off if he wanted to, but he's not that mean.
"Is it too much? Am I making you go lightheaded?" He teased while giving a particularly sharp thrust.
Your toes curled as you cried. You shook your head and held onto the desk tightly. You felt your vision going dark, like you were about to pass out. Luckily, Vincent slowed to a stop and turn the vibrator down a level to give you a break.
At first you saw it as a blessing, but it quickly became a curse when you felt your release slipping away from you. More tears rolled down your rosy cheeks as you sobbed, babbling incoherent nonsense both from the pleasure and because of the ball gag.
Vincent grinned and used his hand to turn your head towards him, "You sound so pathetic..." He pushed your head down flat onto his desk, pulling all the way out and thrusted back in.
The tip of his cock kissing your prostate as he moaned. "Don't worry... I'll give it to you soon enough."
He's such a meanie.
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© shirakow ! Reblogs are greatly appreciated .
I'm starting to get into soul eater so expect something from that !! Also keep those requests coming <3 I love writing for you guys (even though I rarely post anymore)
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nina-ya · 6 months
Note
hey, could you write about law. He strikes me as a cat person and he has this little cat who just loves to cuddle. And in the mornings it just snatch us away bcs they come to cuddle with us and not with law.
Law just get jealous bc the cat gets all the attention and how he is he can't vocalize his needs that he wants cuddles and affection too. Maybe in the end he just imitate the cat with head rubs against you, beet red...😅
A/N: I am screaming crying at this I love the idea that Law is a cat person thank you for requesting this I hope you enjoy <3 Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None, pure fluff WC: 597
The clatter of an item falling onto the floor jolted you from your slumber. Groggily, you opened your eyes and rubbed the sleep away, only to be met with Law's cat, its big doe eyes locking onto your soul as you searched for the source of the disturbance. Your gaze settled on one of Law's scrolls, knocked off his desk and now lying on the floor.
"You know you shouldn't be doing that," you whispered to the feline, attempting not to wake up Law. The cat simply stared back at you, no remorse present in his gaze, and then lowered its head while raising its behind. Your eyes widened as you realized the cat was about to pounce, and you braced yourself for the inevitable. With a small squeal of surprise, you caught the cat in mid-air, inadvertently waking Law in the process.
Law let out a small grumble before speaking up, his voice groggy. "What happened?"
You smiled down at the cat as it started to purr and nuzzle against you. "Oh, it's nothing. Go back to sleep," you said softly to him.
Law raised his head from the pillow, his raven hair messily framing his face, and glanced over at you. He noticed the cat's affectionate antics, rubbing against you and purring incessantly. He sighed and grumbled, "He's just hungry. Let him outside."
"I don't think he's hungry," you responded. The cat began kneading its paws into your stomach, making biscuits, and you added, "He just wants attention right now." A smile graced your lips as you reached up to scratch the tiny cat's head, and he leaned into your gentle caress.
Law couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest as he observed how you were completely captivated by the cat. You pet it with the most endearing expression he had ever seen on your face. Law reached out to take your free hand but you quickly shifted to use both hands to pet the cat. Something inside him seemed to snap, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you tightly against him and burying his head into your shoulder. In the process, the cat jumped off your lap and scurried away. You let out a soft protest with a small whine, but your words were lost as Law squeezed you tightly in his embrace.
"Hey, what was that for?" you asked, a curious tone in your voice.
In response, Law remained silent. He raised his head, his gaze locked onto your eyes, conveying his unspoken thoughts and desires, hoping you'd understand without the need for words. You may not have fully grasped what he was asking for, but when you brushed his hair away from his eyes, a blush rapidly tinting his face, it became clear that he wanted your touch. You ran your fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, releasing a small, contented sigh. 
After a moment, he buried his head into your neck once more, and he began to emulate the cat's affectionate behavior. It started slowly, his hair and beard gently rubbing against your neck, then traveling up to your jaw, and finally your cheek. It was as though he was mirroring the feline's actions, expressing his yearning for attention in a tender, wordless manner. A soft smile graced your lips as you realized his need, and the image of the cat faded from your mind as you devoted all your attention to Law. You closed your eyes, fully embracing the tenderness of Law’s actions, reveling in the affection the two of you shared.
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bones4thecats · 2 months
Text
What If They Had A Mushu Inspired! S/O?
Type of Writing: #8 - Poll Result Characters: Trey Clover, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, and Ruggie Bucchi Name: What If They Had A Mushu Inspired! S/O? Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: This is kinda like if they were to comfort them for their actions that got them sent to Night Raven College. Basically the events they caused are kinda like what happened in Mulan II
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🧁 He was surprised to see you walking through the halls of Night Raven College, as you were once a strong-standing member of Royal Sword Academy
🧁 Unsurprisingly, you were organized into Scarabia, due to how you could think on your feet relatively well, but, you loved spending time in Heartslabyul to annoy their housewarden
🧁 Trey had noticed that one day you had not showed up to annoy the leader, so, he set his sights for Scarabia, and when he spoke to Jamil and learned you hadn't come out of your room and not touched the food he left by your door, your boyfriend got concerned
🧁 He thanked Jamil and bee-lined for your room, and once he arrived, he noticed three different containers of Jamil's cooking. And they were all untouched, a slight layer of dust remaining on the bottom two
🧁 Grabbing the boxes and knocking on your door, he voiced how he was coming inside, since he had no reply for a good solid minute
🧁 Trey expected to see you doing something dumb, maybe you were waiting for someone to get annoyed and come in to scare them, you were kinda like Lilia in that way
🧁 But, when you didn't and he noticed a humanoid-lump underneath your bed sheets, his face shifted from calm to concerned, he had never seen you without some kind of energy or happiness
" My dear? Are you alright? "
🧁 He laid the three boxes down on your desk and sat down on your bedside, lightly grabbing your sheets and pulling them back. And when he saw your puffy red eyes, his heart stopped
" Oh Sevens, what's wrong? " " Trey... am I a horrible person?... " " ... What do you mean? Why would you feel the need to ask me this? " " Think about it! I lost one measly spot in my dorm at RSA and because I felt I deserved that spot more, I separated the two people that actually stayed by my side for years! "
🧁 Trey flinched lightly at your yelling, it was full of regret and sadness, how long has this plagued your thoughts?
🧁 He wrapped his arms around your form, making your lay down on his chest and he rubbed your head, allowing you to stay quiet for as long as you wanted. When you wanted to talk more, you can. But, for now, he'll let you cry as much as you need
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🪅 Ace was used to playing pranks with you, since you would care-less what many thought of your actions
🪅 You were in dorms that you guys were practically opposites in, his was Heartslabyul and he was a troublemaker, and your's was Scarabia and you were a oblivious person
🪅 So, when you didn't show up one day for first hour, Ace asked the your closest person he knew besides him; Kalim
" Oh N/N? I'm not exactly sure... Jamil said that they're still in their room. He also said that they haven't eaten yet... I'm kinda getting nervous for them, to be honest. "
🪅 Ace looked into the kitchen where your vice-housewarden was, cooking for the dorm's dinner that night, if this was true, he'd see the boxes outside your room
🪅 After thanking his upper-classman, Ace began to make his way towards you room, twirling a pen in between his fingers. This pen you gave him on your first date, and it had a special saying carved into it; " I'm travel-sized for your convenience. "
🪅 He chuckled at that, those were the first words you said to him after showing him your small dragon-form
🪅 Before he realized it, he ran into your door. And, deciding that was his knock, Ace tripped the door open slightly
" Uhm... Y/N? Are ya' in here? You're not dead are you? "
🪅 The sound of sniffles, your sniffles entered his ears and made him freeze and close the door behind him and run to your side, asking you what was wrong
" Am I a bad person, Ace? " " What?! Who told you that?! I'll pummel them into the dirt! "
🪅 Your eyes, pupils thinner than ever and your eyes glowing a bloody red. He has never seen you so angry, or, rather, upset...
" This isn't some kind of damn joke, Ace! This is serious! I mean, for crying out loud... just because my place in my old dorm was taken from my claws... I screwed up the entire balance between the two people who were always there for me... "
🪅 Ace looked down in guilt and concern, he didn't mean to make you more upset by touching you... but, he is good with his words!
" I'm sorry, N/N. But, if you want- do you wanna talk about it? You don't have to if you don't want too! But, just... know I'm here for ya', no matter what. "
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♠️ Deuce is a very big worry-wart when it comes to those he cares for... it's not like he doesn't trust them with their strength, you did take down some Savanaclaw students with one hit, but, this was far different
♠️ You hadn't shown up for any gathering in the past few days, and it was making everyone nervous, since you were always there, waiting to spook them
♠️ After being asked where you were by Yuu for the second time, he grabbed his bag and announced he was going to go find you
♠️ His first stop was your dorm, Scarabia, and once he noticed that Kalim was holding one of your gifts, a necklace with one of your scales on it, and looked sad, he asked the male what was wrong
" N/N hasn't come out of their room all day! They attended classes for a bit, but now we can't even get them to open the door and eat something... I'm getting scared. " " Where's Viper? " " Jamil's delivering them something for a snack, since they haven't eaten any actual meals. " " Thanks, Al-Asim! I'll try helping him out! "
♠️ Once Deuce made it to your room, he saw Jamil there knocking, calling your name over and over, trying to get you to speak back and settle his nerves
♠️ He asked what was going on, in which the vice-housewarden just sighed and rubbed his temple, the box in his hand had a small amount of steam coming from them
" Y/N still hasn't answered me. I've been here for around 5 minutes now, and I have their favorite food; dumplings. I have other things to attend to right now, can you try getting them to open up, Spade? "
♠️ Deuce nodded and grabbed the foods from the man's hand before watching him walk away and to the lobby of the dorm, no doubt going to have to deal with Kalim
♠️ He sighed and began to knock on the door, and after every three tries, he'd press his ear against the wood, trying to hear something inside of there; what if you had left and nobody noticed?
♠️ Once he heard a small whimper and sound of sheets shuffling, your boyfriend grabbed the knob and announced his entry
" Y/N? Deary? Are you okay? Al-Asim and Viper have been saying you haven't come outside of your room all day to do anything... "
♠️ You swung your small tail out from underneath the sheet and pulled him onto the bed, thankfully, he laid the dumplings on your nightstand
" Deuce? Am I a horrible person, please be honest... " " Of course not! You're the best person I've ever met! " " What bullshit... Deuce, I was kicked out of RSA because my position was taken from me. And because of that, I couldn't handle it and- and I took it out on the only people I could really trust. I'm such a horrible- " " Y/N. Listen to me. You are the best person I have ever really met in my life, you inspire me to change myself for the better, to put my past behind me. But not forget about it, to acknowledge, yet keep it out of my current self. "
♠️ Deuce smiled lightly, rubbing your arm, touching the slightly scaled skin, before hugging you closely and kissing your forehead, whoever made you think this was gonna be personally visited by a pissed-off boyfriend
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🍩 As pro-tricksters, he loved to mess around with you, and he loved it whenever you would mess with him right back
🍩 Ruggie had just finished his work for the day and walked to his room and tested you, since he hadn't seen you all day, he wanted to ask what you were up too and if you were busy
🍩 But, when he received no reply and didn't see any recognizance that you had even looked at his message he sent minutes beforehand, he began to feel a hint off
🍩 He sat up from his bed when he saw three dots, but when they immediately went away, he groaned and threw his phone into his pocket before walking out of his dorm and headed towards Scarabia
🍩 Your boyfriend understood that you preferred to have some alone time, but not a lot, you were by far more of a people-person than anything else
🍩 Ruggie walked through the halls of Scarabia before he noticed that Jamil was walking in your room's direction holding a box of foods, that must've been your dinner that night
" Ah, Jamil! " " Yeah, Ruggie? " " Is that N/N's dinner? " "Yeah. They haven't come out of their room lately, so, I've been trying, keyword; trying to give them some food, but they haven't come to their door to take it. Last I knew, they hadn't touched any boxes I left. "
🍩 Offering to take it for him, Ruggie grabbed the box of foods from his fellow second-year's hands and said his goodbyes before leaving the hallways in separate directions, Jamil back to the kitchen to clean and Ruggie to your room to check on you
🍩 He knocked on your door once he reached and called out your name before moving to your surname and then both
🍩 Ruggie eventually gained impatience and opened the door, announcing his entrance and noticed how you were wrapped up in the blanket that you took from his room, your small blue horns poking out from your hair and your long tail wrapped around your body and blanket
" My Dandelion, are you alright? Jamil said you haven't been eating lately. " " Can I ask you a question? " " Uhm, sure? " " Am I a bad person? Please, just- tell me the truth, no sugar-coating... " " You are an amazing person, Y/N. I would never lie about that. But, what struck this up? "
🍩 Ruggie was so confused, why would you ever think that he would sugar-coat his words, he's as honest as the sun is bright with you...
" It's just- the reason I was transferred here was because I got my position stripped from me... and... to make myself feel better, I just- I pushed two people apart, and I didn't- I didn't mean to hurt them- I just- "
🍩 Grabbing you by the arm, Ruggie felt your scales graze his hands before he felt you bury your face in his chest, your tail wrapping around his leg tightly
" I'm here, Y/N... don't worry... I won't let ya' go. "
178 notes · View notes
gastrophobia · 3 months
Text
The History of My Ponysona
Hey, let me tell you all about my ponysona, InkyQuills!
Don't pretend you're not extremely interested in this because I know you're not too cool for it. You're on Tumblr.
The first time I drew a ponysona, I did it ironically:
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Oh, too scared to draw an unironic ponysona, huh? Don't worry. You'll come around.
In fact, the first time anyone actually asked me who my ponysona was, in December 2013, I posted this:
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The first ever drawing of Inky Quills. I guess someone asked me. My hand was forced and I had to create a real ponysona. Sigh. 9_9
Still masked in a little irony with a horse version of the Understanding Comics symbol for a cutie mark because I was too closeted to be sincere. Named after what ravens and writing desks have in comon.
Two years later, on December 2015 I drew this:
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I titled that image "inkyQuillsCutiepie.png"
Pretty eggy, if you ask me. Anyway, I'm glad Inky's a pegasus now. Fits my personality more. And the name.
And then, after I came out as trans, I redrew Inky Quills as a mare for the first time ever in 2019:
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I own all that jewelry IRL, btw.
And that's the entire history of Inky Quills!
OR SO I THOUGHT!!!!!1!
I recently found an image file on my computer from 2013 that predates all of this; the ACTUAL first drawing of Inky Quills:
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I ORIGINALLY DREW HER AS A GIRL‽
Look! Look! I gave her a special horseshoe with a pen-holder so she could draw comics!!! I designed an entirely sincere G1-inspired cutie mark!! And she's literally calling herself pretty! Just like I do whenever I look in a mirror! Aaaaaahh!
Oh my gosh, I must have been SO SCARED to show this to anyone!
As soon as someone asked me who my ponysona was, I must've quicky redrawn her as a guy and blocked this image from my memory under seven layers of irony!
Past Daisy, you poor closeted baby!
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devildom-moss · 3 months
Note
LOVE your works !!!!!! i adore how everytime u write, it just kind of turns into a very subtle character study (at least that's what i'm getting) it's vvv nice and the kind of writing im into <33
it's gmt for me so idk if i'm way past the cut off and this might be an odd request btw but a reader refusing lucifer and belphie's offer of a pact after yk... everything lol. it's up to u if the reader eventually accepts but i want it to hurt 🤌🏻
Thank you so much, that's so sweet. I hope you will see your request since I'm taking so long, and I hope you like it. I hope its got enough angst and hurt. I think they have two different types of hurt in it. Lucifer's has more of his pain and Belphie's has more of the reader's pain.
Rejecting their pact offers
(Lucifer x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC)
(Slightly suggestive for Belphegor) (angst) (hurt; pain; implied physical and emotion harm to reader; slight yandere!Belphegor; Belphie is really creepy in this with some non-consent elements regarding touching/kissing)
Word Count: +2,000
Lucifer
You dreaded spending time alone with Lucifer, so you were displeased to receive a message from him – and even more unhappy that it had arrived, coincidentally, just as you had finished your assignment, when you were looking forward to being able to unwind. Your hopeful plans were crushed by an arrogant invite:
Lucifer: Meet me in my study once you’re free. Alone. Don’t keep me waiting.
Your first instinct was to pretend that you were busy all night and didn’t have time for whatever he wanted, but you knew you wouldn’t enjoy your night if you were constantly on guard and worried about your leisure being interrupted. You could pretend you didn’t read it – after all, you turned your read receipts off specifically because of Lucifer. You could wash up and head straight to bed, sacrificing your free time for the sake of avoiding Lucifer. But avoiding him would only result in his nagging the following morning, and he had already ruined your night, so you might as well safeguard your morning peace by appeasing him. Hopefully whatever he wanted would be quick and painless. With a sigh, you reluctantly dragged yourself in the direction of his study.
You knocked at the door despite it being open ajar.
“MC, please enter,” Lucifer spoke up. He knew it was you; his brothers never knocked. You heard the shuffling of paper and the creaking of his desk chair as you opened the door fully. “You’re slightly earlier than I expected. I’m glad to know that your studies are not giving you any trouble – or at least, I suspect that’s why you’re here so soon.”
“Yeah,” you answered him shortly. He seemed flustered by your presence – which would be entertaining outside of the current situation. You stood in the doorway, watching Lucifer collect his papers and tidy his workspace before walking over. His looming figure inched closer, but you stood your ground. “Did you need something from me, Lucifer?”
“Right. Please take a seat. Can I pour you a glass of Demonus? I’ve acquired a new bottle from Diavolo, and I’ve been looking forward to trying it. I’d like to open it with you.” Lucifer walked over to his bar; pulled a bottle from the very back of the top shelf, hidden behind a taxidermy raven; and grabbed two clean glasses.
“No thank you. I’m fine.”
“Oh.” The sound left him so quietly, you weren’t certain he had intended for you to hear it. He put one of the glasses back, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and poured himself a drink. “Suit yourself.”
“Was that all?” Your eyes wandered the room. You hadn’t been in here for a while, and the last time was not particularly ideal.
“Of course not!” Lucifer looked away indignantly. “I wouldn’t call you to my study just for a drink. I have something important to discuss.”
“Alright.”
Lucifer took a sip of his drink before speaking again; his subtle delays – the slow draining of your time and patience – annoyed you. “You’ve impressed me over the last few months, and you’ve managed to make pacts with each of my brothers. I believe you’ve proven yourself worthy of a pact with me. That is, so long as we make one thing clear: if we form a pact, I own you. I don’t care who else you’re entangled with, you’ll be mine.”
“No. I’m good.” You shook your head to accentuate your response.
“What?” Every muscle in Lucifer’s body tightened, and the glass in his hand formed a superficial crack. His eyes widened. Shock and anger fed off each other as Lucifer sat there speechless.
“I don’t trust you,” you admitted. Somehow, you were thrilled to finally have the opportunity to tell Lucifer how you truly felt.
“After everything we’ve been through together?” Lucifer scoffed. He thought he had proven himself to you. He’d come so far since the last time he had tried to hurt you. He thought you were both past this – that you meant more to each other by now.
“No, Lucifer, after everything you did to me.” You sat up from the chair, rage rising with you. You had done nothing but try to help him and his family, and he had done nothing but hurt you. Even when he had saved you, it was usually for his own selfish reasons. By the time he had developed this strange infatuation with you, you had no trust left to give him. You had no foreseeable interest in furthering a relationship with him – especially not after the pompous way he asked you.
“MC, please, be reasonable. You know very well why I reacted the way I did at the time. You’re a part of my family now,” Lucifer pleaded with you desperately, trying to show you his version of reason. He grabbed your wrist and clung to you tightly, afraid to let you leave. “I won’t hurt you like that again. I promise. I adore you much too much.”
“Lucifer,” you half-sighed, half-winced, “let go. You’re hurting me right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Lucifer apologized. He quickly let go of you and brought his hand back to his chest, wide-eyed and terrified. “Please. . . I’ve never offered this to a human before.”
You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, it trembled on his vocal cords and shook his breath. It was his last resort to persuade you: to show you that he had never been this vulnerable, and he didn’t know how to handle your rejection. You knew he needed you to accept his offer – or at least consider it. Anything except rejection would be survivable.
“Please?” Lucifer begged softly; his cheeks flushed with shame.
“Just because I’m your first and you might have changed, it doesn’t mean I have to accept your offer.”
Belphegor
You could have sworn that you had locked your door before heading to bed last night – and no one could blame you for still feeling a bit cautious after the events that occurred a few weeks ago. Yet, you were disturbed by the creaking of your bedroom door – if it hadn’t been unlocked before, it certainly was now. The soft shuffle of exhausted demon feet creeped towards your bed. You gulped and inched closer to the wall, hoping your eyes would adjust, and you would see Mammon. Maybe he had a nightmare. Or maybe it was Asmo, and he was lonely. Maybe Beel got lost on his way back from the kitchen – and hopefully not on his way towards the kitchen.
“Sleepy,” a soft voice muttered, and your hope plummeted. Fear spiked, prickling up your spine as you felt Belphegor crawl into bed next to you. His hands pat the bed gently, searching for your body, feeling for your warmth. He whined, “MC, hold me.”
“Sleep in your own bed, please.” You tried to sound firm, but your voice trembled at the last word. Maybe it was fear, but maybe your own lips could hardly stomach the thought of begging a demon like Belphegor to let you sleep in peace. After everything he did, why did he think he had the right to break into your room in the middle of the night and crawl into your bed?
“Too far now, and I want to sleep with you.”
Against your will, Belphie wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder. He nuzzled into you, taking in your scent with a deep, calm inhale. A gentle hum left him.
It was infuriating, the way he relaxed against you while your body tensed with an overflow of negative emotions: anger, annoyance, anxiety. It wasn’t fair that he could drift peacefully to sleep, clinging to you, after everything he did. You wished he would stop – that he would let you go and return to his room, shutting the door on his way out. You’d make sure it was locked this time; you’d double check it and put a curse on it if you had to.
“I was thinking,” Belphegor hummed mindlessly without even opening his eyes. He practically sounded happy. “We should make a pact.”
Your blood boiled, and you stared at his restful form in the dark. “No, Belphegor. I don’t want a pact with you.”
“Why not?” he started, eyes shooting open to stare at you in disbelief for a brief moment before he remembered. He lowered his eyes and attempted to bury his face against your arm. “Don’t answer that.”
“You know why.” There was spite in your words – so bitter that Belphegor couldn’t ignore it even if he wanted to.
Suddenly he felt he had to do something, and before you could understand what was happening, Belphie had tackled you, pinning your hands down at your sides and straddling your lap. The dim glow of his amethyst eyes soaked up all the light in the room when he stared down at you. His grip on your hands wasn’t tight, but a familiar fear clawed at your throat, cutting back your desire to protest.
“Hush. Relax. I’m not a threat anymore. I love you. I want you. For fuck’s sake, if I was going to hurt you again, I would have done it already, so please, please don’t be scared. I need you. Come on, accept a pact with me, please?” The light from his eyes disappeared from your sight as he dipped down. You felt him kiss up your neck lazily, his warm breath tickling your skin. From anyone else, this might have felt loving and affectionate, but from Belphegor, it seemed cruel – as if he was kissing where his hands might have bruised like some panacea that came too late. “Please? Don’t make me keep begging.”
“Get off!” Your voice came back to you in a frightened yelp, still hushed in the dark of night. You struggled and writhed beneath him. The panic was setting in.
“You’re scared?” Belphie questioned, almost surprised by his effect on you. He pulled back to meet your eyes, but you had them shut tight. “Hey, look at me. I told you I loved you. Don’t be scared.”
“Let me go, Belphegor.” You lifted your arms slightly, only for him to force them back down.
“Form a pact with me,” he insisted. He kissed just above your collarbone, allowing his lips to linger on your skin. “If we had a pact, you could control me. I can feel your pulse pounding; I know you’re scared, but if we make a pact, you’ll never have to be afraid of me again.”
“I’ll scream, Belphegor. I swear,” you warned.
“Shh,” Belphegor let go of one of your hands to cover your mouth. He held your gaze with a delusional sweetness. You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, praying for someone to barge into your room and end this. Belphegor cooed, “I promise I won’t ever hurt you again. I know that will take time to prove, but I need you now. I need that connection to you. I crave it, and I can’t let my brothers be the only ones to stake their claim on you. And until you want me and trust me, a pact will give you reassurance. You’ll never have to worry about being alone with me. If I act out, I’ll be under your spell – in more ways than one. I just want to keep you safe. Can’t you understand that? Make me yours.”
You knew he had a point about control, but it didn’t make you want him. Still, when he removed his hand from your mouth, the fear and anxiety that remained spoke for you. “. . . Fine.”
“Yay.” Belphie giggled and kissed you sleepily, caressing along your cheek and neck. He hummed and stared down at you, trapped beneath him. With your eyes finally more accustomed to the darkness, you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks as he bit his lower lip. “You know, I’m not so tired anymore. Let’s stay up all night and make the pact more official. I’ll even let you mark me.”
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crazycatgirl420 · 3 months
Text
Fuck Around, Find Out
Ghost King Danny tutors Impulse, Bart Allen, in Summoning magic after a horrible drunken Summoning disaster.
Part 1
Monday came much too soon. Danny had spent his weekend preparing his first lesson for Bart, considering he was so deep in his non-belief of magic that he nearly started a war, Danny decided they would have to start with the basics as taught to newly formed entities in the Realms.
Danny removed his pc and monitors from his desk, snapping on a white board attachment and putting several notebooks, pens, pencils, and markers in the drawers. He held his folder of lesson plans and his own notebook. At exactly four o'clock he put one hand on the desk and appeared right in front of his Contractor.
There was a crash sound behind him, and a wide eyed red-head on the couch, a game controller in his hand.
"We agreed on four to six for your lessons." Danny reminded him. "We have a lot to cover and I do not want to spend my entire existence teaching you."
Thee human grimaced but nodded. "What are we doing today?"
"You'll be learning to read and write," Danny said. "Magic is its own language, if you don't know it you can't effectively use it."
Bart spent two hours copying the Infinite Realms Dictionary of Magic into his first notebook while Danny read it aloud.
"There are six hundred and seventy languages used in this dimensions magical script," Danny explained. "As a living being born of this realm you only need to be fluent in those six hundred seventy languages, which is a lot less than what I had to learn as a being of the Infinite Realms-"
Bart paused in writing, glancing at the book he was copying from. '670 Alphabets, Beginning to End'
"I'll leave you with the Dictionaries to study in your own time. On Wednesday we'll go over grammar, and Friday we'll practice speaking. You'll have the weekend to practice as you wish and next week will be your first set of tests,"
"Tests next week?" Bart asked. "After only three days of lessons?"
"This is easy stuff," Danny said. "You're magical friends learn this as young children before they even choose a specialty."
Bart had a week to learn six hundred languages. He couldn't believe Raven or Zatanna knew all these languages, and only a week to learn them all was insane.
"Keep working," Danny said. "We don't have time for you to change your mind now. You signed a contract, I can't even explain what that entails until you understand magic script. The gibberish you scrawled on the floor in your drunken Summoning could've been the end of your deminsion and every deminsion that surrounds yours."
Bart kept writing.
Two hours for Bart tended to feel like an eternity but Phantom taught at the same speed Bart lived his life normally. There was no slacking off for milliseconds waiting for outside time to catch up. Phantom kept up, as soon as Bart finished a notebook another was handed to him. Phantom recited the dictionary and passages on culture, history, and traditions with ease, asking questions and having Bart read the passages as he copied them down.
"You have until I return on Wednesday to learn all six hundred and seventy languages here." Phantom said, pulling several stacks of books out of the desk. "Feel free to ask those magical friends of yours about magic script of you don't believe me, though your inability to believe them was what lead to this in the first place,"
Phantom left just like he has appeared, with a flash of light and an ice cold breeze.
Bart groaned, eyeing the stacks of books with regret. This was going to be a lot of reading.
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Note
Hey headmage, remember the Tsums that came to school...twice? Well...look at this
*shows Crowley Tsum in hands*
What should we do?
Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.
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“Oh my, if it isn’t a mini-me!!” Crowley exclaimed. He excitedly scooped up his Tsum self from you, marveling at the strange creature. "Salutations, mini-me!"
The bean-shaped being perfectly fit in the palm of his hand. It matched his dress in every way, from the mask to the feathered cape and crisp suit and tie, all crowned off by a top hat on a mop of dark, loose waves. Bright yellow eyes blinked up at the new onlooker.
"Fufu, look at how handsome it is!" Crowley gushed, scratching the Tsum behind a tiny pointed ear. The Tsum shook with happiness and leaned into his finger. "But of course, anything made in my likeness is sure to be brimming with the same charm as I!"
“It fell from the sky and bonked me on the head while I was walking up the path to Ramshackle,” you explained. “It was right after got back from grocery shopping at Mister S's Mystery Shop and the Tsum started to go through my..."
"Aren't you an adorable thing! Yes you are!" Crowley's voice had taken on a high pitch--the sound of a doting parent to an infant or a beloved pet. "I'll bet you're as gracious as you are cute! Cootchie cootchie coo!"
"Um, headmaster? Headmaster? Hello-oooo, are you paying attention to anything I'm saying?"
"Hmm, what?" Crowley startled, registering you for the first time since entering his office. His tone, suddenly dismissive. "Yes, yes, I am listening and taking your report very seriously, Prefect!"
"Great, so you'll take it off my hands for me. it's been a real troublemaker, and I don't know if I can deal with and everything else on my plate."
"A troublemaker? This little fellow? Preposterous! Why, he wouldn't cause trouble for anyone." Crowley patted the Tsum on its head (which blended with its rounded body). It seemed to smile at him, bouncing in place. "Perhaps you might be able to assist me with my oh-so important administrative work? There are some documents that need to be reviewed and signed."
He lowered the Tsum, allowing it to hop onto his desk, where a few papers laid. You watched in silence as the Tsum explored its new surroundings. Poking, bouncing, prodding. His inkwell, the quill.
Anything but the documents—which went completely ignored.
The Tsum turned away, disinterested. It preoccupied itself with taking in the shininess of a nearby candelabra.
You raised an eyebrow at Crowley. It really is exactly like him.
"I-I'm sure he's taking his time! What matters is the quality of work produced, not the quantity nor how quickly is it completed!"
As he protested, the Tsum padded to the edge of the desk and stared over its edge. Then it tipped over, diving into an open desk drawer. The Tsum's rump stuck up in the air, happily wiggling as it swam in a sea of wrapped cookies and candies.
The headmaster let out a distressed squawk. "W-Wait, don't go in there! That's my top-secret snack stash...!!"
He yanked the Tsum out by a stubby foot, dangling it like a ragdoll. A macaron was in the Tsum's grasp, rapidly vanishing into its nonexistent mouth as if being sucked in by a vacuum. Crowley's eyes bulged.
"I tried to warn you," you shrugged. "It finished a whole loaf of bread from my groceries before I fished it out. Speaking off..." You extended a hand, palm up. "I'll need more monthly allowance to replace that bread."
His jaw dropped. Not at your misfortune, you suspected, but at the idea of having to shell out more money.
"Wh-What! Why must I be responsible for such a thing when I'm not responsible for the damage to begin with!?"
"You called it a 'mini-me'," you pointed out, "so take some responsibility for 'yourself' and make things right."
"I-I know I may have said that on impulse, but upon closer inspection... In what way does a Tsum that acts carefree, shirks work, and stuffs his face resemble me?!"
Uh, in every way...
"In any case, I am far too busy with my duties as headmaster to put aside time to monitor this hooligan," Crowley declared. The Tsum writhed in his hold, reminding you of a pathetic worm speared on a hook. "However, it happens that I know of a proven beast tamer who is perfectly suited to keeping him in check!"
His gaze settled on you, and your stomach sank.
Crowley grinned, approaching you and placing the Tsum on your shoulder. It immediately nuzzled up to you, nestling in the crook of your neck.
"I'm counting on you, Prefect!" he chirped, giving a strong, encouraging pat on your back. "My expectations for my students are quite high, and you are certainly no exception to that rule~"
Typical kiss-ups, both the Tsum and the real Crowley.
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stirthewaters · 7 months
Text
Too Sharp to Touch pt.6
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: Language, Wednesday-level threats 
Summary: Wednesday practically flips the school upside down during her search for her missing typewriter, and lo and behold look who comes to help her? None other than you.
Pairings: Wednesday x Reader
Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist
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Wednesday was losing her mind.
And no, it was not as pleasant as she had imagined it would be.
It was missing. Gone. Almost as if it has never been there in the first place. 
Her typewriter - her precious, prized typewriter - was missing. 
The Addams was one who favored neatness and precision. Everything had its place and every place had its thing, ensuring that no time would be wasted and that there was no confusion in where something could be placed. If she needed something, it would be there. That was that, and that was the way that she liked it.
It was why Wednesday had a specific folder for her homework assignments, as well as one for her investigations, and another for story drabbles and ideas, all stashed carefully under her desk in their drawer where they could be easily accessed when needed.
So when the raven entered her shared dorm after a rather successful day of classes, pulling out her folder full of notes for her novel as she prepared to engage in her writing hour, when she spotted the lack of a typewriter beside her box of written pages, she was baffled. At first.
Without hesitation the first thing Wednesday did was meticulously search through every inch of Enid’s side of the dorm. The Addams hunted through every inch of pillows, nooks, crannies, and crawl space, though her attempts came to be in vain. She was unsurprised, albeit; she never truly believed that Enid would have taken it, even as maybe a prank, since the werewolf knew how much her typewriter meant to her, but everyone was a suspect when it came to things like this.  
And so the mystery began.
Of course, Wednesday loved a good mystery; she found nothing better than discovering the culprit of a complicated and mysterious case, one that would take experienced detectives hours to crack; seeing the fate of the culprit as their punishment was carried out - it was a wonderful feeling. It filled her with a sense of satisfaction.
And wouldn’t you know, the very first person to offer their help was you. You were eager, that she was sure of. It was unnerving how quickly you volunteered to help her solve the case, this tiny grin on your face every time you asked her about what the latest thing was she’d uncovered, but you weren’t the focus of her attention.
As much as she hated to admit it, Wednesday knew that Nevermore was a big school and having a werewolf with a good sense of smell would be helpful in her case, so she reluctantly allowed you to assist her, convincing herself repeatedly that it was only because she wanted to humor you.
Even worse? You weren’t that bad. She already knew you weren’t incessantly cheerful like Enid was, but you behaved yourself better than she’d expected, especially for you. It was odd, to say the least, to see the change in your behavior. Other than that, you did add helpful points to the conversation, and one or two of your suggestions weren’t as irrelevant as she’d expected.
Although Wednesday knew for certain that her typewriter had not been carelessly misplaced, she decided it wasn’t the worst of ideas to check anywhere it could have been misplaced, despite her insistence on the fact that she would never do such a thing. How could one misplace a large, expensive, prized typewriter that was only used in her dorm and her dorm alone? Impossible.
And so, the raven became sure that her assumptions had been correct from the start; foul play was indeed the only cause of her sudden loss and without a doubt when she would uncover the culprit at hand she would make their life a living hell. 
On her own the raven cut through her suspects list, starting with Bianca herself. Her week became festered with interviews as she took her time planning to take aside one of her friends (a term very loosely used), and question them mercilessly. Well - Bianca at least. The siren may have done her a favor or two a ways back but Wednesday was most certainly not one to allow mercy to anyone, especially under the circumstances. Unfortunately despite her flawless interrogation, the raven found Bianca empty handed. Ironic.
“What about Xavier?” That was your suggestion you offered when you approached her afterward, already peppering the raven with questions with that same small smile on your face that made her stomach twist.
“Xavier has no motive, Y/N, do you know anything about the pursuit of criminology?” Wednesday muttered, pulling the shoulder straps on her backpack tighter. “Use what’s left of your brain and actually think about possible suspects with valid intentions.”
Just as she expected you were already going for a kick to her shin, which she promptly dodged, continuing to walk down the hall while you surely sulked behind, most likely due to your failed attempt.
“I don’t have all day to play games and the gap is getting narrow.” Wednesday huffed, almost muttering to herself at this point as her fists clenched. “There’s an answer here.”
“What about Thing?”
Your voice broke her out of her thoughts as you jogged to catch up with her, walking alongside her as you spoke.
“He’s still pissed at you for giving him the silent treatment last week.” Your hands waved around excitedly as you talk, something that only very briefly distracted the raven.
“A punishment well deserved for an appendage who thinks it is appropriate behavior to provide useless information instead of helpful resources.” Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed in slight annoyance as she recalled why she had refused the hand permission to assist her when she had performed her bloodstain analysis research on you in the woods a week prior. “He knows better than to hold grudges against an Addams.”
“He is an Addams, Wednesday.” The raven could practically hear you rolling your eyes as you spoke. “He’s part of your family but I wouldn’t put it past him to nab your typewriter to get revenge.”
“Couldn’t even think of the inevitable punishment he would receive,” Wednesday muttered with an eye roll of her own. “Ameuter. I’ll make sure he receives his consequences.”
The raven turned direction swiftly as she swerved from her original destination, already on track to Ophelia Hall as you caught up, the smile you had worn so frequently abruptly fading. Odd. She tried to focus on walking instead of your uncharacteristic silence. You were thinking. That she could tell.
“You’re going to like- hurt him? Right now?” You looked at her, your eyes searching hers. The raven kept her eyes ahead on the path, the students around her instinctively carving a path as she plowed through. “You can’t like- put him in timeout or something?”
Wednesday gave you a look of disgust as her lip curled into a grimace. “Y/N, suggest such a weak punishment like that again and I’ll make sure you understand an appropriate consequence.” She immediately shut down any nagging thoughts reminding her she’d never actually-
No. She needed to focus. This was not about you.
She veered the corner, before stopping in her tracks and spinning to face you with a glare. “Are you going to trail after me like a lost puppy or go make yourself of use?” Your face of insignace would be almost comical if she wasn’t so irritated with Thing. “Do as you please. I have business to attend to that will not require your inexperienced assistance.”
You huffed and folded your arms, grumbling something under your breath that the raven was almost positive was something contradicting her statement, but you nodded and turned, heading back down in the direction which you had come.
She threw open the door to her dorm, instantly spotting Thing on Enid’s bed with the blonde herself, discussing a nail care magazine the two were flipping through.
“That’s a good point, Thing, but this green might suit your complexion better,” the werewolf pointed to something on the glossy page, the hand tapping rapidly in response. “I absolutely am an expert at this, Thing, I know more about fashion than you.” A few more taps. “That’s vulgar coming from you.”
Wednesday stormed over to the bed, promptly yanking the magazine out from under Thing and handing it to the bewildered Enid, the appendage tumbling to the floor.
Before he could scuttle away the raven bent down and grabbed Thing in her hands, holding him up to her eye level as she glared at him with murderous intent. “Tell me where you put it or you’ll be receiving another scar to add to your collection.”
The appendage tapped rapidly on her hand, interrupted by Enid who stood and hurried over, laying a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Willa….? What are you doing-?”
Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the hand as she met Enid’s worried expression, gesturing toward Thing with her head as she hissed, “my typewriter is missing and I wish to know why Thing took it.”
Enid paled slightly, which was confusing to the raven. “Don’t be sensitive, he’ll be receiving the attention that he clearly so desperately wants.”
Wednesday was already reaching into her pocket for her handy pocket blade that she carried on her at all times but was met with Enid’s hand on her wrist. She stiffened slightly and shot the blonde a glare, though she didn’t pull away. “Don’t interfere, Enid, I know what I’m doing.”
Yet, the werewolf didn’t move, eyes wide and face pale, mouth opening as if she wanted to say something before closing her mouth again as her gaze flitted from the hand and then back to her. “You said he took your typewriter?”
Wednesday nodded, pressing the tip of her knife to the crook of Thing’s thumb as she spoke in a dangerously low voice. “Start talking.” The hand responded with rapid and wild gestures, flailing in her hands as the raven’s fingers curled tighter around the appendage, pressing her knife firmly against his thumb, close enough to draw blood. 
“Don’t play dumb, Thing, answer the question. Where. Is. The typewriter?” Wednesday hissed, applying a little more pressure as the hand squirmed, signing wildly. Her grip faltered just slightly at the hand’s pleas; although pathetic and shameful, especially for Thing - they seemed authentic, which caught her off-guard. Shaking off her thoughts, Wednesday pressed the knife back against Thing’s smooth palm.
“It wasn’t Thing-” Enid blurted out, and Wednesday paused, slowly turning her head to stare at the blonde, eyes narrowing slightly. “It wasn’t-” the blonde trailed off with a frustrated sigh, rubbing her neck in what appeared to be an anxious gesture. The raven slowly lowered the hand, already realizing that Enid wasn’t lying. With a reproachful expression she set Thing back down on the bedspread, ignoring the hand’s rapid tappings of indignance.
“Explain. Now.”
Wednesday stared at the Enid with a glare, not budging as she folded her arms and waited for the blonde to explain, exhaling sharply through her nose. The werewolf fidgeted around with a guilty expression before groaning,
“Look, I told her that it was a bad idea, but she didn’t listen-” the blonde pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and guilt, looking back up at Wednesday after a moment as she continued. “And you’re not allowed to murder her, but-” Wednesday didn’t even register the rest of Enid’s sentence as the answer hit her like a stab in the abdomen. You. Of course it was you. Why else would you volunteer to help her when you could’ve been off doing your own thing? That small smile she had always seen on your face when you had offered your advice? Now the mischief and deceit made sense. The fact that you had paled when she’d mentioned getting her revenge on Thing for your crime? How could she have not put the pieces together?
Even more infuriating, your advice and ideas as well as what you had suggested for suspects and information - they had all seemed so valid. How could you of all people be so foolish and yet infuriatingly genius at once? 
It was admirable.
No doubt about it, Wednesday was going to kill you. 
—————
pt.7 here!
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Text
more than a song ~ alex turner
word count: 2937
request?: yes!
“hi lovely! i wanted to request an alex turner x reader. just something based off of the song you’re so dark by arctic monkeys. he’s been friends with you for a while but a side comment from his girlfriend (something just like she doesn’t get how they’re just friends) and it’s just snaps into place. ig just him writing the song and moments of them together. maybeeeee him jacking off imagining her on all fours 👀. something like that! thank youuuuu”
description: in which he starts by writing a song about his best friend who is much different than him, and it turns into something more
pairing: alex turner x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (male masturbation), kind of cheating since alex is imagining the reader and not his girlfriend (who will be a made up character, not his real girlfriend louise), also the reader doesn’t really know what alex was doing so idk take that into consideration? idk these warnings are a mess now
masterlist (one, two, three)
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It all started with a comment his girlfriend, Cheryl, made.
“She’s so dark. How are you two friends?”
They had just left a night out with Alex’s bandmates and his best friend, (Y/N). It was the first time the two women had met, which Alex was hoping would go well since both of them meant so much to him. They had just barley left the bar when Cheryl made the comment.
It amused him so much that he couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Why do you say that?”
Cheryl gave Alex a look. “Really?”
He stopped walking so he could turn to face her. “I’m serious. What do you mean she’s dark?”
“Alex...she talked for nearly an hour about HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.”
Alex waited, expecting her to explain why that was a bad thing. When she didn’t, he said, “Yeah, those are her favorite authors.”
“They’re very depressing authors.”
Alex shrugged. “I’ve never read any of their stuff.”
Cheryl closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s got a very dark personality, Alex. Like murder of crows follow her around, Addams family’s long lost member dark. It’s just weird to me that you’re her friend when she’s so depressing.”
“Hey, you may think that, but she’s still my best friend. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t insult her like that.”
Cheryl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I should be questioning your friendship with her in different ways.”
It was safe to say the night did not go as planned. Alex brought Cheryl home in a tense silence. He gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek before she got out without a word, slamming her door shut behind her.
The night had definitely left a slight strain on their relationship. Cheryl had decided that she hated (Y/N) just because of this idea she had that Alex and (Y/N) had romantic feelings for one another, but Alex refused to end his friendship with her when that wasn’t true at all, and when he had known (Y/N) for so much longer than Cheryl. So, even though they decided to continue their relationship, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.
But Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N)’s personality stuck in Alex’s mind. He had never noticed a “darkness” to his best friend. She was just (Y/N), the person Alex had known since they were kids. But now he was thinking about the things she liked, and the way she acted and just her general personality. He found himself humming to himself around his apartment; a melody at first, but eventually lyrics started forming in his mind.
“You got your HP Lovecraft. Your Edgar Allan Poe.”
He quickly rushed to his work desk to scribble down the lyrics as they came to his head.
“You got your unkind ravens, and your murder of crows.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he thought of Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N) being like a murder of crows. What Cheryl didn’t know was that (Y/N) had a tattoo along the backside of her left shoulder that was a flock of black birds. They weren’t distinguishable birds, but she often said it was a murder of crows since they were black birds. Cheryl would probably have lost her mind if (Y/N) was wearing anything that would’ve showed off that tattoo.
Thinking of Cheryl caused his mind to wander to the turmoil of their relationship. He looked down at the verse and chorus he had written about (Y/N) and thought about the fact that he was in the process of writing a song for his best friend when he had never had thought about writing one for Cheryl at all since they started dating. Maybe Cheryl was right to think Alex felt stronger feelings than friendship for (Y/N).
He shook his head. No, that’s not it. She’s my best friend since we were kids, and I’ve only known Cheryl for a few months. That’s all it is.
“I know you’re nothing like mine, cause she’s walking on sunshine. And your love would tear us apart.”
Alex was at his desk for nearly an hour putting the song together. He had two full verses and a rough outline for the chorus, but it still needed something more. He was toying around with more lyrics when he started writing, “You watch Italian horror and you listen to the scores. Leather-clad and spike collar, I want you down on all fours.”
“Whoa,” he muttered to himself. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
But now that he had written it, he couldn’t help but picture (Y/N) doing exactly what he had written: on his bed, down on all fours, her ass in the air.
He shook his head. “No,” he scolded himself. “No, stop. This is wrong.”
But he couldn’t stop. He closed his eyes and the image was embedded into his eyelids. He felt himself straining against his jeans as he imagined himself knelt behind her, looking down at her ass in the wear, wearing only a pair of lacy black underwear.
He groaned as he palmed himself through his jeans. The desire was far too strong to ignore. He had to take care of this, otherwise he knew he’d have a nasty ache between his legs that he would not be able to get rid of.
Just one time, he thought. Then I’ll never think of her like this again.
Alex unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees. His dick was hard as a rock and angry red. He hissed as the cool air touched the sensitive area. He spit on his hand and wrapped his hand around the base. His head tipped back as a moan erupted from his throat.
He closed his eyes and the image of (Y/N) appeared again. Her face buried into the pillow beneath her, moans muffled by the fabric of the pillow. Alex’s dick plunging in and out of her tight pussy, her ass bouncing every time his hips collided with it. He imagined that her moans were as pretty as her regular voice was. Picturing that pretty voice moaning his name caused his dick to twitch in his hand.
The wet sounds of his hand stroking his dick mixed with his heavy breathing and moans filled the room. His mind drifted from having her bent over in front of him to having her sat on his lap in the very chair where he was sat. He imagined (Y/N), still just in a matching lingerie set, pulling him away from his songwriting so she could climb up onto his lap and straddle him. He imagined her pulling the fabric of her panties to the side, a string of arousal connecting her needy hole and the underwear. He could almost feel the warm, wetness of her walls as she sunk herself down onto him, and her lips on his neck as she started to ride him.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “God, that feels so good.”
His desire to have her grew, even though he knew he never would. She was his best friend. There was no way she felt this way for him, too. And he definitely was not going to risk their friendship by bringing these feelings up to her. More than anything, (Y/N) was his friend and he wasn’t about to lose her all together. For now, the only way he’d have her would be in his imagination, and he was more than okay with that.
Behind his closed eyes he could see (Y/N)’s perfect tits bouncing in his face. He squeezed the base of his dick a little tighter as his jerking motions became quicker, almost more desperate. He could feel his high creeping up on him, and he was desperately trying to chase it.
In his mind, (Y/N) was leaning into his ear. In a sexy, sultry voice, he pictured her whispering, “Cum for me, Alex.”
And that was all he needed to go tumbling over the edge. He called out her name into his empty apartment as his hot cum spilled over his hand, lap, and some on his shirt. He mentally cursed to himself for not preparing more for the mess, but physically he felt incapable of fixing it. He let his head rest on the back of the chair as he breathed heavily. When he opened his eyes to finally face reality, he was looking up at the ceiling instead of at (Y/N)’s beautiful face.
There was a slight ringing in his ears as the blood flow from his brain to his dick finally went down. It was loud enough that he almost didn’t hear his phone vibrating on the desk and took him a moment to realize someone was trying to call him. He reached out with his clean hand to look at the caller ID, and his heart skipped a beat when (Y/N)’s name and face popped up on his screen.
Against his better judgement, Alex answered. “Hello?”
“Where the fuck are you?” (Y/N) asked, a joking tone in her voice. “I’ve sent you, like, five text messages.”
Alex pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the lockscreen to see that (Y/N) had in fact tried to text him.
“Hey fucker, what are you doing?”
“Hello? Alex?”
“Quick wanking off and answer me.” (That one both made him laugh and made his heart pound harder against his chest.)
“Listen, can I come over? I wanted to talk about something.”
“I really hope the reason you’re not answering is not what I think.”
“Sorry, I was - uh - I was busy writing,” he said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I got really into it and had my phone on silent. Didn’t even know you were texting me. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”
“Well, I’m currently parked outside your place. Can I come in to talk about it?”
He felt his blood run cold. (Y/N) was outside his place right now trying to come in to talk to him, meanwhile he was sat at his work desk with cum over himself after jerking off to the thought of her.
This truly could not be any worse.
“Yeah! Yeah, just give me a second,” he said, quickly trying to figure out a solution to this.
“Alex, I’ve known you for years, you do not have to tidy the place up for me,” (Y/N) said.
“I know, I just need to...I just have to do something before you come in. Give me a second.”
He hung up before (Y/N) could protest any further. He quickly took off his already cum-stained shirt and used it to wipe off his hand and the area around his dick. He threw the shirt with the rest of his dirty clothes, tucked himself back into his jeans, and found a new shirt to put on. Just as he was pulling the shirt over his head, the doorbell started ringing. He quickly raced to his front door and threw it open to reveal (Y/N) stood there.
“Are you done whatever you had to do?” she asked, but pushed past him before he could answer.
“Come on in, make yourself at home,” he teased as he followed her in.
“I always do,” she said with a smirk. “You’re lucky I respect your privacy enough that I didn’t just get that hidden spare key and barge in here before I called.”
Very, very lucky for that, actually.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked her as they reached his living room. “Your texts sounded serious.”
(Y/N) sighed and flopped down onto his couch. Alex sat across from her, leaving a decent amount of space between them. His mind was still reeling from the mental images from earlier that he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to be so close to (Y/N) right now.
But she seemed very troubled, which was very concerning to him. (Y/N) always talked to him when something was wrong, but very rarely did she physically come over to his place to talk about something. He knew whatever it was had to be very serious for her to show up so suddenly like this.
“I ran into Cheryl at the store just now,” she said, looking down at her lap. “And...well...I know she doesn’t like me. I’m not stupid. I know there’s a reason she doesn’t come out anymore when she knows I’m there, and our brief run ins since we first met always include a glare whenever she sees me. Don’t even try to deny it, Alex.”
He wasn’t going to, but his mouth had been open to speak. He wasn’t even sure what he would’ve said, so he closed his mouth again and allowed her to go on.
“I saw her and decided just to try and avoid her. I expected her to do the same. There was really no reason for her to approach me when it was just her, so I thought. But she came right up to me in the middle of an aisle and she...well, the best way to describe it is she went off on a tirade about not liking me and how she wishes you would just stop being friends with me, and even told me that I should be the one to end our friendship so that she didn’t have to stress about me and you anymore.”
Alex’s hands balled into fists on his lap. He couldn’t believe Cheryl would really go up to (Y/N) like that when he wasn’t around. Like (Y/N), he figured that Cheryl would’ve just walked the other way and left her alone since she disliked her so much. But to go up to his best friend in a public and to go as far as telling her to stop being friends with him for the sake of a relationship that wasn’t even a month in was further than he ever expected her to go.
“I thought you weren’t responding because she got to you first,” (Y/N) continued. “I thought she was going to come to you with some made up bullshit saying that I was the one who attacked her or something.”
“I haven’t heard from her,” Alex said. “I guess she’s waiting till whenever I see her next.”
“Listen, I’m sorry that I’m causing this strain on your relationship - ”
Alex reached out to take (Y/N)’s hand to cut her off. The contact sent a spark through him, but he tried his best to ignore it.
“You’re not the one causing any strain to my relationship. Cheryl is. She’s the one who is feeling so insecure about our relationship that she has to go as far as calling you down to the dirt while I’m not around. I’ve tried everything to assure her there’s nothing to worry about between us, but it’s not enough for her. I think...I don’t think I can continue this relationship with her. Especially not after what you told me.”
(Y/N) looked down at their joined hands. In a soft voice she said, “She’s a fucking bitch.”
Alex smiled and chuckled softly. (Y/N) did as well, and eventually, they were both laughing at her comment.
When the laughter died down silence fell over them. Neither one of them knew how to break it, but they didn’t really feel like they had to. Silence always felt comfortable between the two of them. They never felt like they had to speak if they didn’t want to. They could just sit like this for hours and it would be fine.
But their hands were still joined together. (Y/N) was tracing circles in the back of his hand with her thumb, almost absentmindedly. He liked the feeling of her hand against his. He never wanted to let go of her.
“You said you were writing when I came?” she finally asked, looking up at him. “Anything good?”
“Oh, um, I think so? I haven’t really put it together properly. It’s just a couple verses and a chorus that I have to finish.”
“Can I hear it? Or see what you have written, at least?”
His face burned at the question. He knew he was definitely blushing by the way that a confused look creeped on (Y/N)’s face. How did he show her this song, which was clearly about her and included a line about wanting to fuck her, and not absolutely ruin their friendship in this moment?
“I-I guess, if-if you wanted to,” he stuttered. “But, um...it’s...it’s a little embarrassing because...well, you were my muse for it.”
Her face seemed to brighten. “Really? You were writing about me?”
“Yeah. There’s some lyrics...well, you’d know it was about you the song is released so I guess there’s no getting around it, there’s some lyrics that are a bit...more than friendly.”
And there it was. There was no taking it back.
He watched her face, trying to gauge what her reaction to that revelation would be. She was just looking at him for a moment, as if registering his words, before a smirk crept across her face.
“Then show me,” she told him, her voice low and sultry the exact same way it had been in his imagination.
And Alex swore he had never been more excited than in that moment.
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twilghtkoo · 1 year
Note
HI!!!! TOTALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!! but I wonder if I can request a haechan drabble where his s/o putted a lot of lipbalm on her lips and haechan said it'll go to waste so he'll kiss her and say he's sharing it with her. HSJSHSJSBSJSNSJNS
pairings. haechan x streamer!reader (f)
genre. fluff, established relationship
warnings. shy haechan?? small make out sesh, mentions of zelda again bc i love zelda
notes. THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTE??? thank u anon for requesting this ! i hope you enjoy this just as much as i did writing this one :D
haechan masterlist | main masterlist
-
“i blocked and muted anything related to zelda because i do not want spoilers!” you exclaim into your mic, mindlessly scrolling through your playlist on spotify to play another song.
user same i blocked and muted everything bc my game doesn’t get here til the twentieth
user same
user i like playing new games going in blind it’s exciting
“me too, i love it. even though the trailers and concept art drops give away a bit but not too much.” you agree to the last comment you read.
user how are you
user hiiii yn
user how long have u been streaming
user is haechan home?
“i’ve been streaming for two hours and thirty-eight minutes,” you answer. “and haechan is almost home actually!”
“oh let me show you guys my new wallpaper.” you excitedly say, minimizing your current windows, displaying your wallpaper to the viewers.
it’s just a screen capture of a scenery from one of your favorite game franchises, the legend of zelda twilight princess. an official illustration that shows link on his horse, epona, with the master sword in his hand, looking handsome as ever in his green tunic. princess zelda and the twilight princess in the background and wolf link in front. the colors are so pretty and you’re very proud of it.
user oh my god that’s so cool
user tp yessss
user who is that fine man
user that is fire
“that fine man is link–“
knock knock.
“who?” speaking of the devil. your favorite person walks in, staring at you quizzically with his work bag hanging off his shoulder. he looks absolutely ravenous and you want to thank his parents once again for giving birth to this man.
“hi babe!” you chirp, straightening your posture as you weakly hold out your arms in the air, waiting for him to walk into your embrace.
he cradled your head against his tummy, being careful of your headset. his hands move down to the area just below your ears, pulling you in for a kiss but you slyly dodge him. haechan rarely kisses you while you are streaming, he doesn’t like showing that in front of thousands of people. but he can get affectionate and touchy sometimes, so he’ll pull you towards him with his back facing the camera and blocking both of your lips.
“haechan’s home guys,” like it wasn’t that obvious…
you grab your tube of lip balm that was across your desk, quickly and evenly applying some to your lips. when you rub your lips together, it feels a bit thick but you try to ignore it.
he hums, “that’ll just go to waste, let me get some.” he cups your face again, pushing your chair with his knees to make room for him to stand in front of you. you instinctively place your hands on his waist from the sudden movements. he bends down, his face inching closer towards yours and it’s like your brain goes haywire because your lips quickly connects with his before you attempt to shove him away.
you know where this is going.
he lets out a whine, “kiss me.”
you giggle, your head is still in his hands. you try to look at your monitor, already forgetting you had a live audience. haechan noticed your concerns, he turns his body slightly to tap your mic, turning it off so viewers can’t hear anything.
“now kiss me.” he says impatiently, the corner of his lips curving upward in a smirk.
you roll your eyes before your eyes flutter close and you let him indulge. he takes his time kissing you, long and slow yet hard, and he’s smiling into the kiss.
“ok enough stingy,” you managed to say in between kisses.
you can feel your lip balm being smeared all over your lips and around, all sticky and uncomfortable.
he chuckles, he bite on your bottom lip gently pulling on the flesh as he pulls away slowly before resting his forehead onto yours. a familiar action that makes your thighs clench together.
“you’re calling me stingy when you weren’t gonna share,” he points back, ruffling your hair before he turns your mic back on.
you look at him once more. “aigoo, look at you!”
you grab his wrist before he manages to walk away, pulling him down so he can show his face. his lips are glistening from your make out session and his cheeks are all red.
he gasps when he sees his reflection, immediately straightening up so he’s out of frame.
user theyre so disgustingly cute
user i feel like we’re interrupting something even tho we were here first
user GET A ROOM
user in front of my sandwich too?
you cackle at his reaction, too distracted by him to be reading the comments. tapping the mic once again with your hand.
“look who’s shy when you were begging to kiss me in front of twelve thousand people.” you jokingly tease.
“yah! is it a crime to kiss my girlfriend?”
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m-jelly · 2 months
Note
Hello Jelly. I was thinking about secret admirer! Levi.
The reader is new at work and really liked Levi. He considers her the most wonderful woman, but he is very shy and afraid of rejection. So he decides to secretly leave her sweet notes and beautiful surprises.
She accidentally catches Levi, who is preparing another note and surprise, and confesses her feelings to him. Levi kisses her and he is happy because now he knows that his love is mutual
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Letters to love
Levi x fem!reader
Modern AU, fluff, romance, secrets admirer, detective Levi, shy Levi, confessions, kisses.
Levi is a confident detective, but he is not confident in love. He's had a crush on you, a case assistant, for a while and he is unsure how to approach you. So, he leaves you letters, gifts and notes. You catch the handsome detective and you both confess.
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird
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Another note was there on your desk ready for you to pick up. It flustered you knowing that someone loved you so deeply and romantically. For two months now you have been left notes and they were increasing as time went on.
There was one man in the station that you had deep feelings for and you were sure it was him leaving you the words of love. Detective Levi Ackerman was a dreamy man. He was confident, hardworking, funny and sweet.
The writing left on the notes reminded you of Levi's writing, but there were others with similar writing. All you knew was you adored the raven-haired detective. The letter always had a delightful scent on it and reminded you of fresh lemons and flowers.
You read the sweet words of love and adoration. You smiled sweetly before looking at the reusable cup with bunnies on. Today the sweet man had gotten you a white mocha with a bit of caramel. For a few days now he'd been getting you delicious coffee and you'd wash it up for him. You would leave baked treats on your desk addressed to your secret admirer as a thank you.
The longing in you to meet this man was growing. You knew you had to catch him in the act and he usually left a note in the afternoon. You had a plan, a big plan to catch who it was. So, you went into the main commune area and said that you were going out for lunch and you wouldn't be back until near the end. You pretended to leave, but managed to get back to your office and lay in wait in your bathroom.
Levi had been in love with you since you started working at the station just over two months ago. He had a lot of experience with bad people, taking down criminals, solving crimes, facing harm and head-on. What he wasn't confident in was love. He had one ex and it went okay, until she cheated on him so he left and felt rather broken. Levi was scared to be in love.
When you walked into his life, he felt like there were fireworks. Due to the pain in his past, Levi wasn't sure how to approach you and he got so flustered around you. The feelings inside Levi were building up and he needed to let you know, so he wrote you a letter and left it on your desk. It filled his heart with joy when he saw you walk around with a smile on your face, he had made you happy.
He bought you gifts as well and whenever you wore the hair clip, or showed off your resuable coffee cup it made his heart flutter. It flustered him hard when he saw you had left baked goods for him. Every single day he looked forward to seeing what you'd make him. He felt like you were a couple, but an odd one. The letters you left made him happy too.
Levi noticed you kept every single letter and note you kept from him. He kept everything you gifted him as well. He was happy and ready to be with you, but he just needed a bit of a boost. Hearing that you were going out for lunch meant he could leave you another note and a little cuddly rabbit as a gift.
As he made his way to your office, he had a flutter in his chest as he felt excited and happy. He approached your desk and placed the letter down. He smiled a little before turning around and felt his heart stop when he saw you step out of your bathroom.
You smiled a little. "Hello, Levi."
He blushed hard. "I was just...I...uh..."
"Are you my secret admirer?"
He whined a little and shyly nodded. "Y-Yes. I'm s-sorry if y-you don't li-like me. I w-will stop."
You walked closer to him. "What if I feel the same?"
His eyes widened. "Y-You do?"
"I do. I love you."
Levi smiled. "I love you too. I love you do much."
You nibbled your lip. "I could sense that in the letters."
He gulped hard. "May I kiss you?"
You took his hand and nodded. "Please do."
Levi cupped the side of your face as his other hand gripped your hip. He pulled you against him and crashed his lips against yours. All the pent up feelings and emotions came spilling out for the two of you. Hands clung to each other as you kissed with deeper passion. Tongues moved as one as your hearts fluttered. It was very clear that you and Levi were going to have a beautiful relationship.
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