#cater a bit more open about his melancholy

[cerealmonster15]

I’m acting on a whim and posting some unfinished(?) fanfic stuff I wrote like a year ago. Part of my many branches of caterella aus that has vague reference to one of my rsa ocs (dañarte)… but with a cater/idia main plot with jamil/azul happening in he background. My blurbs ended in a bit of a sad spot BUT it was always the intention in my mind that there would be happy resolutions 🙏 these were just little things I wrote for my friend and me bc it was an au we talked about…

Context: idia and cater are bonding, but only online over magicam, and idia is kinda catfishing cater (though not maliciously). when i was trying to name my original rsa oc (char) and looking at names, eppa was one of my initial possible choices. It was maybe my friend who had the idea initially of idia having a fake, RSA princely identity that cater gets to know over magicam?

Eventually I picked char for my actual guy, and dañarte became his cousin via me making typos and more discord sillies lol, but prince eppa became a pseudonym for idia and created another branch for the story. I’ve talked a bit about the dañarte lore and some of that comes into play here. Char I guess would too but I don’t think he got mentioned anywhere lol sorry buddy. But ya idia is pretending to be a prince at rsa named eppa who “secretly likes video games” or whatever I think lol. Idia likes his bond with cater but can’t even begin to think of how cater would react if he found out idia was lying to him.

Anyway. This is more cater/idia (and board game boys friendship) focused than anything (lots of idia pov pining lol) and idk if anyone would wanna read it but I’m putting it here to record keep anyway. No ao3 Bc It’s very unedited and unfinished and just kinda blurb writing lol

But it’s the only time if technically written for caydia. And I do like it. It’s just embarrassing bc I get embarrassed with my oc things and my love for romance drama but i guess I’ve been exposing more of it lately lol… shout out to anyone who recognizes the fic I’m referencing that I DID post lol.

Anyway. Copy pasted from my Google docs:

Idia’s computer pinged as a message appeared on screen.

C.Dia - eppa, are u awake?

Idia looked at the clock, startled. It was 3AM… Idia was still up because he was grinding a new event in one of his many, many, many games, but what the heck was Cater Diamond doing up at this hour? Had he just gotten back from a party?

PrinceEppa: ya, why r u tho? It’s crazy late lol

C.Dia: lol ikr

C.Dia: i just cant sleep rn >.<

PrinceEppa: how come?

C.Dia: i got into a fight w/my bf again…

Idia sighed at his computer. Right… Cater’d started dating that prettyboy from RSA.

PrinceEppa: 0~0 thats like the third time this month…

C.Dia: ya ik ;-;

Idia fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. He didn’t really know if his heart could take hearing Cater talk about another guy, but the thought of Cater laying around sad and alone made him ache just as bad… But what was he supposed to say in times like these? Idia didn’t know anything about comforting someone about relationships! He barely talked to people in general!

Thankfully, Cater kept going and spared Idia the anguish of trying to figure out what to do next.

C.Dia: are u going to bed rn?

PrinceEppa: no lol ill be up for a while longer.

C.Dia: royalty keeps busy at all hours huh?

Idia tensed at the mention of his lies.

PrinceEppa: something like that. Balancing the princely duties and the princely gamer sessions is tough work 😌

C.Dia: LOL. never change eppa <3

His face grew warm, a bittersweet swelling filling his chest.

C.Dia: can u chat with me a lil longer then?

C.Dia: tell me about ur day or ur games or w/e? I kinda just want a distraction, i dont really wanna be alone rn

C.Dia: if ur not busy anyway >.< it’s oki if you wanna focus on ur gamer mode lololol

Idia paused for a moment, before moving his mouse and closing out of his game. The rest of the event grind could wait.

PrinceEppa: im never too busy for you, cay.

C.Dia: thx <3

Sometimes, even for the prince of otakus, there were more important things than gaming…

But only when those things were really, really, really special.

*

“I heard Cater and that RSA boyfriend of his broke up.” Azul spoke after several minutes of silently moving chess pieces around the board.

Idia frowned. “Don’t try and use that as a distraction from the game just because I’m winning.”

Azul kept his face neutral so as not to betray any bluff he might have. “Perish the thought. I just thought his sweet prince eppa would be interested in such information.”

“SHH!” Idia hissed. “Not so loud! Besides, I-I already know. He told me…”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “He told you, or he told Eppa?”

Idia focused on the chess piece he moved. “Same thing.”

Azul sighed as he took his own piece and contemplated his next move. “Hardly. Honestly, how can you ever expect to move your relationship forward if you don’t unmask yourself? All this bonding will be for nothing if you don’t use it to the full extent!”

Idia rolled his eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it from you of all people. How long have you been saying you’re gonna ask Jamil out?”

It was Azul’s turn to shush Idia, face reddening. “How is that even relevant?!”

Idia grinned. “Cuz you keep going on and on to me about how I should be more confident with Cater, but you won’t even take the plunge with Jamil! Hypocrisy much?”

“I’m simply waiting for the right time. I would be a fool if I didn’t stick with my patient strategy of getting him to warm up to me before striking! Move too early, and I’ll undo all my progress…”

Idia sighed, thinking back to all the hours he’d spent DMing Cater under a fake name. They’d gotten quite close, but as far as Cater knew, Idia was still that vague acquaintance in the back of his classes.

If he messed up by telling him his identity at the wrong moment, or didn’t phrase it right…

“Lost progress… that’s exactly what I’m afraid of…”

*

“Idia!” Cater’s cheerful voice called out as he approached the lecture hall desks. “You’re in person again today; that’s three for three this week!” He spoke with a smile as he slid into the seat next to Idia.

Idia jumped at the sudden appearance of his classmate. “O-oh, uh, yeah…”

“Oh, B-T-W, did you hear that Azul and Jamil were on a date Friday night?” Cater said in a half-whisper, leaning close to Idia’s ear.

“Uhh…” Idia didn’t really know how to answer that. Sure, he knew Azul had some overly complicated date-but-not-a-date plan to get Jamil to hang out with him, and then ask him out for real, but how did Cater hear about…?

“I was hangin’ out with the pop music club on Friday when Ruggie texted Kalim that he was serving their table! Isn’t that just crazy?”

Ah. Kalim and Ruggie. That explained it all.

“I mean, I always wondered if those two had something goin’ on, y’know? Like, they had that ‘will they, wont they, playing hard to get’ kind of vibe. Super cute, if you ask me.”

Idia wasn’t really sure that ‘cute’ was a good way to describe anything those two were involved in, but he simply nodded his head along to Cater’s blathering, as he discreetly pulled his phone out of his pocket and switched to his Prince Eppa magicam account, reading the messages from that morning.

PrinceEppa: howre u feeling?

C.Dia: like total trash lol…..

C.Dia: ik he was a jerk but like i miss him, yknow??

C.Dia: or maybe i just miss having someone there. And its almost valentines day lol. Shit timing amirite?

PrinceEppa: that really does suck… im sorry, cater.

C.Dia: thanks, it’s oki tho. Better to get it overwith lol

C.Dia: i really dont wanna get out of bed or go to class…

PrinceEppa: mood

PrinceEppa: u really should tho. Ik it’s hard but itll feel worse if u stay there all alone

C.Dia: urk. Idk if i have the energy to be around people today

PrinceEppa: tbh i get that… i dont rlly wanna go face people either today…

PrinceEppa: how about we try it together?

C.Dia: i wish u went to my school so we really could go to class together <3

C.Dia: but oki. I'll try, for you :)

PrinceEppa: :)

If Cater really was feeling as bad as he felt, he was pretty good at hiding it with that blinding smile and bubbly laughter.

Sure, Idia’s first instinct would be to immediately enable anyone that wanted to spend the day hiding in bed, but… The thought of Cater lying alone in the dark with his thoughts just made Idia sad.

And, if he did that, Idia wouldn’t get to see him in class today…

“Oooh, do you think Azul and Jamil are gonna go out again on Valentine’s day?”

That depends on what Jamil answered on Azul’s questionnaire, Idia thought to himself. He was sure he’d get a full report from Azul later that day at their next club meeting.

Cater sighed. “Another Valentine’s day, and Cay-Cay’s single yet again!” He smiled, but Idia felt that his eyes weren’t lit as bright as they normally were as he spoke. “But, I’m sure some of the boys at Heartslabyul will be hangin’ around like always. It’s never lonely when you live with friends!” He turned to face Idia again. “What about you, Idia? Any steamy plans for Valentine’s day?”

“U-uh…” Idia started fiddling with his hair. It was now or never. ‘A-Actually, Cater… M-my dorm, Ignihyde, we’re h-hosting a movie night that night… Y’know, ‘cause a lot of us don’t really have plans for Valentine’s day and don’t wanna be sulking alone…” He swallowed a lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “...Y-you can come join, i-if you want…?”

Cater blinked a few times, a look of surprise on his face, before breaking into a smile and giving Idia’s arm a small squeeze of a hug. “OMG, movie night at Ignihyde?! I hear you guys have like, the sickest setup! That sounds great; count me in!”

Idia breathed a sigh of relief as the professor began class.

A few seconds in, his phone quietly vibrated as a single message came through. Idia glanced at it from down in his jacket pocket.

C.Dia: a rlly sweet guy in my class just invited me to hang out w/him and his dormmates on valentines day

C.Dia: u were right about getting out of bed. i think ill be okay today ^.^

***

“Hey, Idia…” Cater put his phone down, magicam abandoned where he’d paused on a video of a turtle swimming around an aquarium. “We’ve gotten a bit closer lately, huh?”

Idia paused the game he had up on his tablet. “H-huh? Oh, uh, y-yeah…”

“So, uh,” Cater played with a strand of his hair. “Do you mind if I talk to you about something a little… personal?”

Idia froze. Abort mission, find an escape route, he was not a high enough level for this kind of topic yet! Maybe Eppa was, but Idia!?

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to just say no when Cater was looking at him with those soft green eyes.

“S-sure…”

“Thanks! Y’know, you’re really sweet, and like, such a good listener…”

Idia hoped the redness of his face was hidden behind the flames of his hair that flickered in every direction.

“And I’ve just been feeling so… confused lately, about where my heart’s at. My feelings feel like they’re being pulled in so many different directions!”

Idia could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Cater sighed, laying his head down on the table. “My ex asked me on a date today. He wants me to give him another chance.”

The burning sensation from Idia’s insides made a 180 as he felt his blood go cold. This was the last thing he wanted to hear his normie crush come and tell him without warning…

“And the craziest part? I said I’d think about it.”

Oh god.

“I know that’s like, totally insane after everything that happened, but… I dunno, seeing him around now that he goes to school here just has my head all scrambled!” He picked his head up from the table, opened his phone again, and gave the turtle video a like before standing back up suddenly. “Gosh, sorry, I don’t know why I just came over here and dumped that on you, Idia. I guess I just find you so easy to talk to, I get a little carried away!” He said with a nervous laugh.

Lucky Idia.

“But, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure things out for myself. It’ll be A-okay!” Cater gave an unconvincing thumbs up before turning to leave.

Super lucky.

*

“Azul, today might actually be the worst day of my life.” Idia said as he dragged himself into the clubroom and plopped down in the seat across from Azul in their usual spot.

“...Hm? Oh, hello, Idia.” Azul looked up from his phone. “I believe you said the same thing when you came in here to lament about Cater getting together with his… boyfriend, a while back.” Azul seemed tense at the very concept of Danarte. He hadn’t exactly been a fan of the guy since he transferred to not just NRC, but into Scarabia specifically, where he’d made a point to hover around Kalim and Jamil as much as possible.

“I mean, it’s basically the same level of despair. Cater just told me Danarte not only asked him out, but that he’s considering it!” Idia dropped his head facedown onto the table in sorrow. “Like, how could I lose to the same guy twice!? Ugh, honestly, there’s no one as pathetic as me. I am having the WORST time, and NO ONE could possibly understand the agony I’m in right now!”

Azul chuckled, his tone solemn and hollow. “I’ll do you one better. Jamil broke up with me today.”

Wait, what?

Idia’s head shot up as he squinted at Azul, who was gazing sadly at his phone again. “Huh!? Wh- Huh!? What happened?”

Azul sighed. “We had another fight- and I mean, you know how we are. We have our differences, our disagreements, and the two of us can be a bit… stubborn at times. But we always figure it out! We were doing so well… At least, I thought we were.” Azul rested his chin in his hands. “But I suppose Jamil didn’t feel that way. He said he’d had enough of the relationship. Enough of me.”

Azul bowed his head to stare down at the table.

Idia wondered if he was trying not to cry. He looked out the window, both out of respect, and also because it felt kind of awkward to stare at his friend who was clearly just barely holding it together after getting dumped.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, when it was clear neither of them wanted to discuss their woes anymore, Idia spoke. “Uh, wanna play the VR headset boardgames today? Now’s kinda the perfect time to… Escape reality, right?”

Azul lifted his gaze to Idia. “...You just want to make me use the virtual dice again because you know I can’t use my perfected dice strategy on them, don’t you?” He straightened his posture, standing up to get the headsets. “I’ll have you know I won’t let your silly game of virtual chance best me today!”

Oh thank god that worked. Idia didn’t think either of them could handle any more emotions for the day, so he stood up and followed Azul with a grin. “Hehe, we’ll see about that, Azul.”

#cereal writes #ocs #oc: dañarte #kind of. he’s not here but he’s involved #uhhh I’m not putting my mess in the main tags #ur allowed to rb or whatever I just dhfbgbgbg I can’t put this in the tags #it’s by will of god if u see it. or if you happen to be looking on my blog for things I guess LOL #I wrote these bits spaced out over time too #each chunk was as I had a later idea and it was in order as I went #but Idr how far apart they were #last time was apparently sept last year #anyway the point was cater and idia could be a lil more real with each other online #cater a bit more open about his melancholy #and idia more encouraging and then #pushing himself to be in person more both motivated by cay to see him #and bc their convos make him wanna be better or whatever idk #sorry the jamiazu bits may not make sense if you haven’t done the prerequisite reading LOL it’s not a big deal tho

[luvvvivii]

can we get a changbin taking care of really sick reader? i am suffering rn 😪

11.58pm — s.cb

pairing - changbin x gn!reader

genre - fluff, timestamp

wc - 398

warnings - reader is sick, like one usage of 'babe'

a/n - I'm soso sorry for getting this out so late ml 💔 hope this was up to your standards tho

synopsis - one stuffy night your stuck home sick. lucky for you, your wonderful boyfriend is here to look after you

[11:58pm] — "achoo!" your whole body jerked as your nose sniffled away under the blankets. you were trying so hard to be quiet, to not disturb changbin whilst he was working, but couldn't help the loud sneeze that erupted. you sighed and turned onto your back, looking up at the ceiling in melancholy. that was when you heard the door to your shared room creak open slowly. uncovering the blankets from your face, you see your boyfriend staring at you with sympathy in his eyes.

"babe, you sure you don't want me to stay here with you?" you nodded your head, but it seemed as if there was no point. changbin was already there by your side on the bed with tissues, medicine, and heated soup he had made prior to your current situation. you chuckled a little, so happy at the fact he cared so much.

"you don't have to do this binnie, I told you I'm fine." as if life was against you once again, you released a chesty cough upon saying those words, making changbin wince slightly whilst passing you tissues.

"even if you were alright, I would still want to be here by your side. so it's final! I'm staying right here in bed with you until you get better!" he laughed and handed you the soup to have and slowly took out the medicine for you to have.

you were always pretty weak, and getting sick wasn't a rare occurrence for you. that was why changbin was almost forced into learning how to look after you and cater to your needs (not as if he wouldn't have learnt it anyway). you felt bad for making him do such nice things for you, especially when he would usually have sharp deadlines and lots of melodies to submit as a producer. but no, changbin always had time for you. he would always make time for you.

"yn? are you okay?" changbin's voice snapped you back to reality, showing slight concern for your current state.

"hm? oh, yeah, I'm okay. just spaced out a bit."

"alright that's good. now, how about we get some rest?" he slowly tucked himself into bed under the sheets, giggling and getting all comfortable beside you.

"what about your project? didn't chan say he wanted you to send it in by tomorrow morning?"

"that can wait. what's more important right now is you."

©@luvvvivii all rights reserved | do not repost or translate

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #skz imagine #seo changbin #changbin #seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin imagine #changbin drabble #changbin fluff

[kuroliondragon]

You are not getting away! (Ace Trappola x Reader)

Υou have a crush on Ace and keep on avoiding him. Until he finally has enough and confronts you about it…

Warnings: slight angst, fluff

“We will wait for Ace-chan and then we can all go to the cafeteria together!” Cater chirped cheerfully.

The moment you heard your friend’s name, you instantly turned to face Cater with blushing cheeks. “W-Wait! We are going with Ace?!” A cloud of panic was visible all over your face.

“Well yeah. It would be bad if we let Ace-chan alone.” Cater explained.

“Ohh, yeah…guess your right.” You awkwardly swallowed, hoping you didn't sound suspicious.

You looked at all your Heartslabyul friends, sweating as you thought hard for an excuse. “Oh! I just remembered!” you squealed as you found the perfect excuse.

Everyone turned their attention to you while wondering what has gotten in to you all of a sudden. “Is something the matter Perfect?” Riddle's silver eyes flashed at you with concern.

“Yeah… you see…I have left my notes for Crewel’s Alchemy class back at the dorm!” You nervously exclaimed.

“I see.” Riddle said as he placed a finger on his chin thinking. As he remebered something, he reached for his bag.

“So… I should really go.” With a shaking voice you signaled your head towards the other end of the hallway while hoping your little lie had worked.

“No need.” Riddle lifted his head, holding a notebook in his hands. “You can have mine instead.” He kindly offered.

“But are you not a second year?” You titled your head in confusion.

“This one has notes from my first year." Riddle held the notebook in the air. "I often lend it to Ace, Deuce or any other first year when they forget theirs.” His expession darkened a bit as he clicked his tongue in annoyance . "We wouldn't want to violate a rule now would we?" Riddle said while giving an intimidating smile to Deuce.

Deuce let out an embarrassed laugh while kept apologizing to his dorm leader with pleading eyes.

“Anyway, you can have it.” Riddle offered you his notes with a soft smile.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” You nervously declined, clenching the hold of your bag. The truth was that you hadn't forgotten anything. Your notes for Crewel's class were safely secured in your bag but you― no matter what― needed an excuse to get away from Ace. You had to get out of there fast, and even if you wanted to be close to him you couldn't. After realizing your feeling for your dear friend, you couldn't be near him not even five minutes without being nervous or blushing red.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed Perfect.” Riddle spoke softly, placing his hand on your shoulder in an encouraging gesture. But his silver eyes suddenly narrowed, giving off a threatening aura that soon was matching his face. “Ace is the one who should be embarrassed, for making us wait for so long.”

“If he keeps this up, he’s going to violate rule 366: 'You shouldn’t be late more than 10 minutes before going to lunch on Wednesdays'. The dorm head gritted his teeth, his patience was running thin.

“Dorm leader!” A voice yelled, in your mind it sounded familiar― way too familiar for your liking.

All of you turned to the unexpected shouting, to find Ace running towards your group. “Dorm leader!” he shouted, his heartbeat rapid as he tried to take a few deep breaths, finally reaching you. "Dorm leader, there is a crisis at the dorm!"

"What crisis?" Riddle raised an eyebrow.

Ace gasped for air. "The flamingos are loose!", he panicked.

"What?!" Riddle,Trey and Cater yelled in unison.

"Yes! You need to head there fast!" He pointed towards the Mirror Chamber at the other end of the hall.

Without a second thought they all rushed to Heartslabyul to resolve the situation, while leaving you and Ace alone. Once they were gone, you slowly turned to face your friend― sweat was already forming in your forehead. "You know…I really have to go." You nervously voiced as you tried looking anywhere but Ace's red eyes, "So…it would be best if you followed them." You suggested, praying to any of the seven get him as quickly as possible off your back.

You hurriedly took a few steps towards the other end of the hall. But Ace grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks as he stared at you, "I lied."

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"I said, I lied." He gave out a sigh. Observing your still confused expression he decided to provide you further context. "The whole flamingos incident…is a lie. I made it up, there is no crisis."

"Then why did you-" you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Why would he do such thing?

"Because I needed an excuse to be with you…You were about to run off again." He confessed with a sadden expression.

"I wasn't. I was just-" you tried to make an excuse.

"-trying to get your Alchemy notes that you left in your dorm?" He sarcastically asked. "Yeah, I know", his voice sounded more and more disappointed as his red eyes travelled to the ground.

Your eyes widen as you gasped in shock. "How did you know that?" You imidiatly shifted your body and faced him. He was still holding your hand. Maybe he had no intention of letting go...

"I overheard your conversation." He said as he kept his gaze down and for the first time you thought you heard just a bit of shame in his voice. Shame...Ace…Ace Trappola being ashamed… This must have been the greatest joke of the century! There is no way that compulsive liar would be ashamed for anything! He wasn't ashamed when he challenged his dorm leader in a duel for the dorm head position. Why he would be now?

He swallowed hard. "Why are you avoiding me?", he frowned. Oh no…

"No, no, no, no. NO!" You cried in despair. "Why?! Why are you asking me the one question I can't answer you?!" You said trembling as you lowered your face in your hand― hiding from Ace's view.

For a few moments there was pure silence. None of you spoke, only the wind and the chatter of some students was heard. What could you say?! What he could say?! This had turned out a mess. There was no saving your situation. You could just tell him your feelings. The idea appeared in your mind like a flash of lightning. But Ace was a bit of a special case. Yes, he was your friend. Yes, you two may or may not have done some awesome pranks together. Yes, you have also been in a lot of trouble together. But that did not mean that you could just confess to him! He would laugh at you in no time. Once he knows, he will never stop. He will keep teasing you until you two graduate, if you are lucky! Because if not, he would tease you until you die. So, why would you pour your heart out to him?

All of a sudden you heard a deep sigh and a pair a hands pushed yours away, revealing your troubled expession. "What?" You snapped at him, your voice stained with melancholy, while you turned your head away from him.

"Hey!" He slightly slapped your cheek to make you face him.

You did face him but with an expression he had never wished to see on your face. You were about to shed tears.

"Hey…don't…don't cry." He slowly placed his palm on your cheek as he cupped you cheek with a sincere gaze. "I'm just worried."

"I know. I know." You reassured, placing your hand on the top of his. "But it's hard to say what I feel…" you pressed your lips together in a tight line.

"Then say it. Don't hesitate because of me. " He encouraged with a smile.

"You will laugh." You twisted your gaze to the side, hoping he would leave the matter alone.

Only for him to brought your face to look at him once again, "I won’t."

"You will because you are a little shit." You almost laughed yourself.

"True." He gave you a small giggle. "But I want to know." He sofly stared at you. You still refused to give him any information about what you wanted to tell him. So he moved onto plan B. "Alright then, how about this: I will try guessing and you will tell me if I am close or not." He gave you a toothy grin.

You let an exasperated sigh, "Fine, because you are not going to leave me alone either way."

He gave you a mischievous smile. "Is it about..." he thought a bit, "...that you don't want to be friends with the best prankster of NRC?" he said playfully.

You bursted out laughing, "Cold, very cold."

Oh, now it was beginning to be fun! His red eyes twinkled craftily. "Is it because you are in love with some one?"

You bit your lip, averting your gaze from him, "Warm."

"Is that person close to you?" He suddenly brought his face close to yours.

"Warm, very warm!" You yelped, turning red.

"Is this person me, perhaps?" He cooed.

Your nervousness reached it's peak after Ace had asked the question. Something inside you, a gut feeling, was whispering to you that Ace knew exactly what he was asking, as well as, what the answer was. So, you shallowed and opened your mouth to answer. But you had no time to; without a warning you were met with Ace's lips on the top of yours, forcefully wanting access to the inside of your mouth.

Once he pulled away, you were left dazed, staring into thin air, while trying to catch your breath like a fish gasping for air. Ace laughed at your silly expession. "I surprised you, didn't I?~", he gave you a playful wink.

Still dazed as you were you could only utter one word, "Warm." You still couldn't believe the fact that Ace Trappola had just kissed you.

"And it's about to get warmer." He huskily whispered, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and diving for another deep kiss.

"ACE TRAPPOLA", a furious shout was suddenly heard.

You and Ace quickly pulled away from each other, dread filling both of you as you realized whose heels were angrily tapping in the halls.

The two of you turned towards the sound, finding a Riddle seething with rage while being followed by a concerned Trey and Cater. "Dorm leader, I can explain!" Ace cried out as he saw Riddle marching towards him.

"Riddle at least let him explain." Trey pleaded.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!" The dorm leader screamed as he unleashed his unique magic.

#disney twisted wonderland #twst disney #disney twst #twst scenarios #twst x you #twst x y/n #twst x reader #twst #ace twst #ace trappola #ace trappola x reader #twst wonderland #twst ace #cater diamond #cater twst #twst cater #twst heartslabyul #trey clover #twst trey #twst deuce #deuce spade #adeuce #twisted wonderland #deuce twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland ace trappola

[zodiakuroo]

Envy

EreMika is the villa’s top couple. Reader is hoping to turn one of their heads.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ characters, a good ol' fashioned love triangle, possessive behaviour, dom/sub dynamics, lil angst + lotsa pining, threesome, the sex is kinda messy but so is everything else

Word count: 10.5k (yes it's proofread but it's also kinda not)

Notes: For @doinmybesthere’s love island collab! happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈

Lush, mediterranean forests, thick with leaves and the wonder of adventure hidden inside.

Snow white, sandy beaches

Cerulean waters that sparkle in the sunlight and stretch to the edge of the horizon

The view from the infinity pool really is magnificent.

“You and Armin look good together.”

“You think so?” You murmur nonchalantly. The dark shades that cover your eyes dim your surroundings, making it all the more easy for you to see the brilliant figure in front of you.

“You don’t?” Mikasa cocks her head to the side, jet black bangs sweeping across her forehead.

“Armin’s a great guy. He’s my type on paper but… I dunno… I guess I wanna keep my options open.” You chew on your bottom lip, hoping she’ll change the subject. You can’t help the guilt that sits heavy on your heart.

The ‘you’ on the outside would never do something like this. Lead on some poor, innocent soul so you can stay close to the true object of your affections, biding your time until you can confess. Only when you’re certain that said love interest is free to be yours.

“Well, I still think you should lock him down before the recoupling. I don’t want you to get sent home.” Her gentle voice chases away any shame, kind eyes reminding you how you ended up in this situation in the first place.

“Oh you’d miss me?” You adjust your sunglasses, propping them atop your head, slowly wading towards her

“Of course you idiot.” She deadpans, kicking at the water, splashing in your face a little. You squeak in surprise and retreat a little. “You’re my best friend in the villa.”

If guilt is gnawing at you from one end, on the other end is bitterness, frustration slowly building towards a fever pitch.

Still, you don’t want to think about that now. You’ll only sour this moment for yourself. It’s rare that you get her full attention like this these days.

In the beginning, you two were inseparable almost from the jump. Both of you were a little more on the reserved side, especially stepping into such unusual circumstances. Naturally, you gravitated toward each other. Simply being in each other’s presence was enough to bring both of you out of your respective shells. That was the chemistry between you and Mikasa.

But when he dug his claws into her, your crush became one half of the strongest couple in the villa, leaving you behind to bury your own feelings.

Normally he’s stuck to her like a leech with his arms hanging around her like chains as if he’s afraid she’ll make a break for it any second. Like he’s afraid she’ll realise she’s too good to be catering to his every whim, too good to put up with his moodiness and too smart to fall for his charming front.

“Are you hoping someone new will come into the villa?” Someone ‘more your type’?” She uses air quotations to copy your words.

“Not exactly.” You start, distracted by the way she adjusts her bikini top, the soft flesh bouncing ever so slightly underneath her red bikini. The skin on her nose and on the apples of her cheeks are branded a similar shade thanks to the summer sun.

Your heart thrums against the ungiving wall of your chest, as you drift slowly towards her again, this time until you’re so close you feel her feet, drifting underwater at your waist. “I already have my eye on someone.” You answer as truthfully as possible.

“Are you gonna tell me who?” She furrows her brows curiously as you wrap your fingers around her ankles, slowly moving them up to rest on her calves. You use the position to pull yourself closer to her, until your chin rests on her knees. She leans down, as though she expects you to whisper the name of your crush into her ear.

You press yourself on to tip toes, to meet her halfway. Time seems to slow as you try to figure out what to do.

Lie? Confess? Kiss her?

But time doesn’t slow and-

SPLASH

You don’t get a chance to respond after your moment is ruined with an icy splash from behind you.

“Fucking hell!” You scream swatting water in his direction.

Right on cue.

“Eren what the fuck!” Mikasa scowls at him, clearly not amused either.

“I was just messing with you guys.” The sound of his cheery laugh may as well be nails on a chalkboard to you. “Sorry babe.” He pouts.

He takes up your spot by nudging you out of the way ever so subtly. Except it’s not really subtle. Not to you anyways. It’s pretty reminiscent of when he pushed you to the side when the two of them got together. He’s telling you to remember your place.

“Grow up Jaeger.” You roll your eyes.

With his arrival, discomfort sets into your bones. She accepts his apology almost instantly as always, easily placated with simple kisses. Innocent enough at first, starting over her knees but bit by bit his lips move further and further up her thigh, until she’s pushing him away murmuring “Not here.” As if he cared…

Watching them together, the picture of lovestruck, from a distance is nauseating enough, today you don’t have the willpower to experience it firsthand as a third wheel.

You’re about to excuse yourself when you hear Sasha yell from the opposite end of the pool. “Hey guys! I’ve got a text!”

Everyone shuffles closer, awaiting the message with quiet apprehension. When Sasha opens the message she gasps before reading it, making everyone’s anxiety grow tenfold.

“You don’t have to be a math genius to know that 1+1+1 = a crowd. It’s time to simplify the equation. Eren and ______ , get ready for a date! #LoveTriangle”

All eyes are on you in an instant and you resist the urge to duck down under the water to hide from the cameras. You wonder briefly if it would be easier to breathe down there, rather than up here where the tension is suffocating. Your fellow islanders are murmuring amongst each other but the words are indiscernible, muffled by the blood rushing to your head, face burning hot with embarrassment.

Everyone around you is wearing variations of the same expression; confusion. Sure they all had theories about you and Mikasa. Not that you were exactly subtle about it. Often touches that would linger for just a little bit too long, you would always lean in just a little too close when helping her with her makeup and many a time you’d been caught staring at her from afar. It’s just a little too intimate to be completely platonic but not intimate enough to be considered anything but a friendship. Then again, you never even had a chance to take it further because the only person who didn’t seem to notice was the ever oblivious Mikasa, not when she couldn’t see past the brunette boy with the striking jade eyes.

Now, looking at those very eyes you notice how they’ve lost their usual playfulness. As the exception to the bewildered expressions around you, he looks cold and unreadable. Then the corners of his lips twitch up into a small smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes but big enough for him to flash his sharp white canines at you.

Mikasa has her eyes fixed to her hands in her lap, picking at her nails (a nervous habit she once told you). She refuses to look at neither you nor Eren.

You want to explain but the right words are nowhere to be found. Right here and now, in front of everyone (including the person she’s currently coupled up with) is not how you wanted her to find out. But you have to say something, anything to take away the melancholy that is so obviously weighing her down, but the words are stuck in your throat and before you can swallow that lump, he interjects.

“I wanna talk to Mikasa real quick.” He addresses you directly. “Why don’t you go ahead and get ready?” He phrases it as a suggestion but it’s more of an order. And just like that, your emotions flip to irritation. Who is he to tell you what to do? Even now, he wants a monopoly of her time and attention. As if your relationship (even just as a friend) might not also be damaged because of this.

And it’s not fair. You have to speak to her as well. You need to tell her that-

“It’s fine.” Her mouth pulls into a tight smile, being mindful of the cameras. It’s obviously not genuine, you can tell but you also know that she’s not one to show her true feelings, especially not publicly like this. But this feels too much for her and that brave face has never been more transparent.

Still, her slate gray irises meet yours. “I’ll be inside to help you get ready in a minute.”

You give an equally artificial smile and then swim across to the other side of the pool, where Sasha lends you her hand to pull you out of the water.

_

The car ride was awkward at best, insufferable at worst. You and Eren weren’t on friendly terms to begin with. Aside from the fact that he was coupled up with your crush, it was safe to say that being alone with him is not something you would ever have done willingly.

Where you found him loud and obnoxious, Mikasa found him excitable and bubbly. Where you saw him as stubborn, Mikasa saw him as driven and headstrong. Where you thought him impulsive and reckless, Mikasa thought him brave and spontaneous. When you said that he was rude and crass, Mikasa would say he was opinionated and outspoken.

It wasn’t as though she couldn’t see the bad sides of Eren but it was that she cared for him in spite of those things. Loyal to a fault she was. You let out a heavy sigh, thinking how much worse that makes all this. She must feel as though the loyalty she felt towards both you and Eren had been spat back into her face.

Silently you stare out the window, head turned away from him. A rare moment when you don’t feel the presence of camera lenses watching your every move.

Your brain is constantly replaying the last conversation you had with Mikasa. True to her word, she did help you choose an outfit and style your hair. But that natural comfort was gone.

No. That’s not true. The bond may be strained but it’s not broken. You can still do something to fix it. But neither of you were willing to address the elephant in the room.

Well, that's not exactly it.

It’s that neither of you knew how to.

Stood in front of the full length mirror, you took one last look at yourself, smoothing out the front of your sundress, but caught her sad gaze in the reflection behind you.

“Hey ____. Earlier, when you said you had your eye on someone. Were you talking about Eren?” Her voice was hushed but you feel it in your viscera, like a sharp kick that leaves you winded

You know what she’s thinking. What everyone is thinking. That you were going to swoop in and steal your best friend’s partner. And you can’t blame her because that’s exactly what it looks like.

But you didn’t betray her, you would never.

You want her. Not him.

It’s almost as though you’ll never get a chance to set the record straight. Before you could even try you were being shooed out the door.

Now at the table, you fiddle with the stem of your glass, resisting your body’s command to down the whole thing. Sitting here in silence with him for 2 hours may as well be torture if you were completely sober but it sure as hell would be better than talking to him.

Eren doesn’t seem to share your sentiments and is the first to break the silence.

“I know you don’t like me.” He says before taking a sip of his drink. “All this bullshit about a love triangle is ‘cause you like my girlfriend. Right?”

He flashes you his signature cocky smirk, one of the many things about Eren Jaeger that seem to irk you to no end.

“I mean she’s technically not your girlfriend.” You say as a feeble retort.

You are right. She’s not his girlfriend because he’s never asked her. Life in the villa was harsh like that. If your relationship wasn’t official, anyone was fair game. Really the only thing that had stopped you from making your move was the painful gnaw of your insecurity. The deep-rooted belief that she would never choose you over him. Just the idea of public rejection, in front of your friends, family and god-knows how many other people, puts the bitter taste of bile in your mouth.

“Like that fucking matters.” He leans back in his chair, long legs spread wide. At least you didn’t bother denying it, he thinks. But why would you, Eren is many things but he isn’t stupid. The way you stare at Mikasa all dreamy eyed, following her around like a stray puppy. When you two are together, he doesn’t like how you sit so close, always whispering and giggling at god knows what. You’re entirely too comfortable, letting her lay her head in your lap while you play with her hair. Small things like that add up, it’s not hard to fingers out what you true intentions are.

He’s not jealous. He’s not. Why would he be jealous of someone who doesn’t even have the balls to go after what they want? You just… bother him. You could have your pick of literally anyone in the villa but no. Instead, you’re always hovering around, waiting for him to fuck up so you can play the role of comforting best friend.

“What’s wrong?” Extra bravado backs your voice. You know this act. He’s trying to intimidate you. You always thought Eren saw himself as untouchable but the way his jaw ticks makes you wonder for a brief moment, is he threatened by you?

“Scared of a little competition? I think you’re on the wrong show.”

“Oh please.” He scoffs before picking up his glass again. “You’re no competition sweetheart.”

“Famous last words.” You hum condescendingly, before bringing your fork to your mouth, letting the food pass your lips.

He clenches his jaw tighter. Being able to push his buttons in this way is something you’re very proud of right now.

He lets out a deep exhale through his nose and says. “You know. I actually had my eye on you in the beginning.”

The bite of food seems to lodge itself in your throat, eyes bugging out of your head. You cough and sputter, quickly gulping down your drink to try and move the lump into your stomach.

“Surprised?” His voice takes on a much deeper tone.

You don’t reply, too busy fumbling for a napkin to wipe down the edges of your mouth so he continues. “Yeah. You’re hot, obviously. But also real feisty. Fun to tease and ease to get a rise out of. My type. But Mikasa…. I could tell she wanted me from the start and if I wanted to stay in this competition, I couldn’t waste any time grafting on someone who was playing so hard to get.”

“So this is all a game to you then?” You say through gritted teeth, both hands squeezing tightly around the cutlery you’re holding. All your anger is bundled up by a thin thread, ready to snap at a moment’s notice.

“I think you’re a little confused. Isn’t that exactly what this is?” He rests his chin on his palm, wearing that same chilling smile from earlier.

“You’re a real piece of shit. You know that?” You don’t want to lose your temper. Doing that means that you’ve given the upper hand back to him. Too bad you’re doing a terrible job of keeping it under control.

“Oh come on.” He laughs as if any of this is funny. “Its not like I’m leading her on.” Sharp as a dagger, those words jab themselves right in your gut. They’re a painful reminder that you don’t deserve to take the moral high ground. Thinking about what you’ve done to Armin, you may even be worse than he is.

“If I didn’t like her, I wouldn’t be bringing her tea in the morning, or making sure she ate.” Eren leans across the table, voice low and gravely. “Or making her cream all over my fingers every night while you and everyone else are fast asleep.”

You pick up the wine glass with the intention of covering his smarmy face in the blood red liquid.

Eren quirks brow at you, watching and waiting to see if you have the nerve. Because he knows that you don’t. If you did, you would have told Mikasa how you feel already. If you did, you would haven’t have latched on to the sweetest person in the villa as a fail safe. If you did, his pristine white shirt would have been stained burgundy by now.

Eren thinks you’re a coward and there’s nothing he hates more than that.

“Could have been you.” He sits back again. “Sorry I beat you to it.”

-

Your reception upon return to the villa is fairly mixed. Everyone is already dolled up with a drink in hand, the party in full swing.

Some people are glad to see you guys back, eagerly asking questions about the date. They might be genuinely curious as to how it went, interested in the development of new relationships or the survival of the villa’s power couple in the face of this challenge

Or they might just be in it for the drama, looking for gossip fodder. Wanting to know the details so they can go to the confessional booth and talk about how terrible of a person you are and how they would “never do anything like that to a friend”.

Other people greet you with disdain, people who would have been friendly with you mere hours ago. Armin is well liked in the villa, boyishly handsome with a kind heart. He’s a bit of a flirt at times but has never done anything with bad intentions. Of course everyone is fond of him. It’s only natural that you would look like the villain for stringing him along all this time, while he was developing genuine feelings for you.

Armin himself was angry of course, but it’s nothing if not deserved. You thought he would rage at you, call you selfish and cruel but he didn’t. Because Armin is a better person than you. You wanted to explain to him that you never meant to hurt him, but that wouldn’t mean anything because you did. In fact it would probably upset him more to hear that he was just an accidental casualty. A meek “I’m sorry” was the best you could offer. A nod and an impassive expression is all he offered in return, walking away to join Jean and some others on the daybed.

As for your date, you can feel his glare from all the way behind you as you make your way across the lawn to the bar. Mikasa is sitting on one of the stools with Sasha.

“Hey.” You interrupt Sasha’s animated chatter.

“Oh hey.” She turns to face you. While you’ve been gone she’s had time to build her defences up again, appearing stunningly neutral, not a hint of listlessness she couldn’t hide earlier. “How was the date?”

The first thing you think is She looks gorgeous tonight. But she always does.

The second thing you think is It’s time to grow a pair. Now or never.

You can still remember the sad look in her eyes from this afternoon. The thought still has your heart sitting in the pit of your stomach. The idea that it was a hurt you caused makes you want to throw it back up.

“It was…” You pause to find the right word. “Fine.” you decide on. You could have lied and said it was good but that’s probably not what she wants to hear. You could have been honest and said you would have had a better time removing your own wisdom teeth with a butter knife but that’s not the point. The date was irrelevant anyways, simple misunderstanding that you need to clear up right now. “But actually, I was wondering if I could pull you for a chat?”

Sasha hops off her chair, wobbling a bit as she lands. “Why don’t you guys stay here? I'm gonna go find Connie.” She places her hand on your shoulder, her own way of giving you a little courage.

You mouth a thank you that she meets with a wink before leaving.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the front of your dress, taking the seat across from her. Your mouth is dry and once again you can’t find the words to tell her how you feel.

Why can’t you just say it?

“So Armin is pretty mad at me. I’ll probably crash on the daybed tonight.”

You colossal idiot! You scream internally.

Once again you’re dancing around what you truly want to say.

Mikasa digs her clipped fingernails into her palm, struggling to keep her emotions at bay, dam threatening to break at any second. After everything, that’s what you came here to say? She knows it’s not your fault that you two didn’t get to talk before you left but you don’t think she deserves an explanation now?

At least Eren had the decency to come to her after. He didn’t say much except reassured her that nothing happened and he wasn’t interested in coupling up with anyone else.

Still, it didn’t quell Mikasa’s insecurity.

She’s never been jealous before in her life but this must be it. It feels like someone has dug into her chest and is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until her poor heart is nothing but a crumpled mess.

If it had been anyone else, maybe it would have hurt less. Now she’s so afraid that she's losing you to Eren and she's losing Eren to you and in the end, she’s the one left with nothing.

“Yeah he was pretty upset when you left.” With her elbow on the counter top, she rests her chin in her palm. You’re used to her stoic expression because you know if you look long enough, carefully enough you’ll see how soft she is. But this is different. There is nothing but cold, hard steel behind her eyes.

“I deserve it though. I shouldn’t have strung him along like that.”

“Yeah I’d be mad too.” The bitter edge to her voice is one that you’ve never heard her use towards you. You try hard not to take it personally, she’s only mad because she doesn’t understand. You have to set the record straight.

Now or never right?

“Mikasa look. I have to tell you something. I-”

“I’VE GOT A TEXT!” Jean announces, getting in the way of your confession.

“For fuck’s sake.” You mutter under your breath.

It’s pretty obvious at this point that the producers have you on their hit list but as Jean reads aloud the message, it only becomes clearer that they must have some personal vendetta against you.

“Eren, you get to spend the night in the hideaway with the islander of your choice. #DecisionsDecisons”

It’s an easy decision so Eren doesn’t give it much deliberation.

But his choice shocks everyone.

“_____. It’s you and me tonight.”

Even after what transpired this afternoon, your relationship with Mikasa was salvageable but this… you don’t think it will survive

Without a word, she hops off her seat, storming into the villa without sparing a glance at anyone else.

It might have been the final nail in the coffin for his relationship with her as well.

-

Alone in the hideaway, you nervously tug at the silk sheets, bunching the fabric between your fingers.

You’ve been waiting here for 15 minutes, sat in your pyjamas, a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts. The possibility that Eren would stand you up becomes more and more likely. Why he would do all this instead of just choosing Mikasa is beyond you but you know better than to waste precious brain cells trying to figure out Eren Jaeger. If he did plan on leaving you alone here for the night, it was probably for the best. At least you could sleep in a room by yourself for the first time in ages. A small consolation.

Just as you start to contemplate turning off the lights and calling it a night, you hear the door of the room creak open.

Eren walks in still dressed in his jeans and white linen shirt and kicks off his shoes.

“Look Jaeger. I don’t know what you want from me but I’m not interested in playing your games. I-“

The rest of your sentence evaporates when Mikasa appears from behind him. You jump to your feet, fully prepared to leave. Did he bring you here just to humiliate you? If that’s the case then he’s had more than his fill, you won’t let him have any more fun at your expense.

“Not interested you say?” Eren raises his eyebrow, as he gently nudges Mikasa forward.

You should go but your feet just won’t move when she stands square with you. “What’s going on?” You ask, as your chest grows tighter, with every second that ticks by.

“Do you-” she pauses, after a silence that dragged on for much too long. “Do you like me?”

Everything about it is innocent; question, the tone, the way she looks at you. But now your heart is beating so ridiculously loud that you can’t think straight. She asks you so bluntly that you feel stupid for how long you’ve spent agonising over how you would confess. Unlike you, she’s never struggled to get to the point.

Behind her, Eren wears a poorly concealed smile and that’s confirmation of the obvious. You don’t know what he told her but it’s obvious she knows this much. There’s no reason to deny it now.

“Yeah.”

You had rehearsed it countless times, thought about all the flowery words you would use to tell her how you feel. Yeah is not as eloquent as what you had in mind but it would have to do.

“Oh.” Her blush deepens, blending perfectly with the red and pink hues of the dimly lit room.

Mikasa is still shocked, she didn’t really believe Eren when he told her. Granted, at the time she wasn’t really interested in what he had to say seeing as he had just publicly humiliated her. Hearing you say it now makes her rethink everything, from those early days up until now.

She’s seen people chop and change partners with every new face that comes in and out of the villa but that was never her. To her, she already had Eren so there was no need to consider anyone else. But now that she knows how you feel, things are different.

“Hmm. Oh.” You mimic followed by a dry chuckle.

It’s not the response you had dreamed about but what did you expect? Yes you’ve confessed but this wasn’t your moment. It wasn’t the one you’d been waiting weeks for. Ultimately, that moment never came and maybe that was a sign that you and Mikasa just weren’t meant to be.

The big room now feels too small for three people. There's not enough space. There’s not enough air. You need to leave. You need to-

“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” She steps closer to you. There is no malice in her tone. A simple question with a simple answer but you can’t pick up if this is a rejection or not.

“I didn’t know if you liked girls.” You mumble, taking a step back.

It’s not the reason. Maybe it’s one of them but you just needed the space to think. To breathe. But the back of your legs hit the bed and once again your backside is on the soft cushion of the mattress.

She moves even closer until her knees knock against yours.

“That doesn’t matter to me.” She shakes her head and cups your face with both hands so you look at her face, her smile (even though it’s only slight) alleviates the tension in your chest. “If I like someone, I like them and… I think I like you.

The relief that you feel meets an untimely demise when Eren approaches the bed. He pulls her body flush against his chest.

You truly were something. Here he was making it easy for you but you still can’t say what you want. A coward.

He whispers something inaudible into her ear and now you have both of them looking down at you. This is the smallest you’ve ever felt, wanting to shrink even further under their scrutinising gaze. Still, you feel a familiar tingle just buzzing in your lower belly as they size you up.

She tilts her head to the side, granting Eren access to her neck which he accepts. He plants soft wet kisses across the expanse of pale skin. Pink tongue and white teeth appear every now and then as he leaves bruises and bite marks on the, once flawless, canvas. Her eyes fall closed as she writhes in his hold, grinding her rear on to his crotch. His hands wander, underneath the hem of her short dress, exposing more of her milky thighs, black lace panties just barely visible. She hums, finally opening her eyes, to look at you, her thumbs rub circles onto your cheeks.

You can’t imagine how you look right now but you know how you feel. Your head is spinning from the erotic scene in front of you, clenching your thighs to alleviate some of the heat you feel, breathing heavily even though all you’re doing is watch, sitting there in your cartoon pajamas.

Mikasa gasps as he digs his teeth into her neck especially hard, leaving behind the dents of his incisors.

“Focus.” He murmurs into the crook of her neck.

You don’t know what he means but you can’t exactly blame her. If there were hands squeezing and clawing up your thighs, never reaching where you actually need them. If there was a tongue sliding over the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth raking over the same sore spots over and over again before soothing them with featherlight kisses and kitten licks. If you were in her place, you wouldn’t be able to focus either.

“I- I’ve never been with a girl though.”

Your mouth dries up at the promise of her words. There’s no way she means….

“But Eren said he’d help.”

Help?

There’s no chance for you to stop and question once he unzips her dress, letting it fall off her body, leaving her in her underwear in front of you. You can’t stop yourself from shamelessly raking your eyes over her body.

Yes, you’ve spent days with her, lounging around in swimsuits but this feels new. Maybe it’s the way the black lace cups the curves of her breasts, budding nipples just barely visible through the sheer fabric. Or maybe it’s the way the matching fabric only just covers her pussy, that’s just mere inches from your face. She’s so close you can practically smell her. Your tongue dips out to moisten your lips, practically dying to taste her.

Perhaps the biggest difference comes in the smouldering way she looks down at you, it’s the same desire you’ve had in your eyes for weeks, finally being reflected back at you.

Your hands twitch atop your thighs, itching to do something.

Touch her.

Touch yourself.

Anything.

She tugs at the sleeve of your shirt and that's all the instruction you need. You pull your shirt over your head, perhaps with a little more eagerness than necessary. While Eren unhooks the other woman’s bra, flinging it across the room. You feel your nipples harden instantly but you can’t be sure if it’s because it’s due to the cold air of the room or the heat of her stare on your chest.

Mikasa straddles you, stepping free from Eren’s hold. From the corner of your eye you see him unbutton his shirt but you can’t focus on him for too long. Not when your bare chests are pressed together. Both of you shudder as your nipples graze against each other and you feel the heat of her cunt radiate onto yours. You hear the sound of heavy breathing, you can’t tell if it’s hers or yours. You can smell her perfume, intoxicatingly sweet jasmine and amber. Her pupils are already blown wide, only a thin grey ring that lines the pitch black of her iris. You see your reflection of yourself in them and you can only imagine that she is seeing something similar. Mikasa has literally taken over all of your senses, all except for one.

She’s so close to you, she must be able to tell that your heart is racing. Her nose bumps against yours ever so softly. You’re almost too scared to even move. Everything about this moment feels like a dream, what if you close that millimeter gap and it ends?

But you know it's real when her petal soft lips press against yours. It can’t be anything but real when she kisses you, gently as though you might break. You can’t help but want more, slipping your tongue past her lips. And finally you taste her and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

You swallow all the sounds she makes as you lick the inside of her mouth, lips sliding against each other. Every whimper makes you hungry for more so you kiss her deeper, massaging her tongue with yours.

Puffs of air escape through your nose, but both of you are much too desperate to stop the kiss for something as trivial as breathing. It’s not worth losing the feeling of her mouth on yours.

Before long, your hands are wandering, trailing over the curve of her ass, rubbing over thin fabric that moulds to her body, tracing the intricate patterns of the lace. Her hand glides up your torso gripping the soft breast in her palms, making you moan into her mouth. She smiles into the kiss, rolling your nipple between her fingertips, sending small shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy.

You maneuver her body, rocking her back and forth on your lap. It’s not nearly enough friction. You’re dying to get rid of the fabric that separates you. You want to feel skin to skin how wet she is for you. You want her to know how unbelievably wet you are for her. You fiddle around trying to adjust the position, trying to get her closer to where you need her.

“Baby.” A deep voice cuts through the tension in the room. For a moment you’d forgotten he was there at all.

Much to your chagrin, Mikasa pulls away from the kiss. You’re both left panting with your lips swollen. Your heart sinks as you come to the realisation that this is as far as everything would go. One searingly passionate kiss and nothing more. You couldn’t imagine a crueler fate.

Mikasa looks over her shoulder for Eren’s instruction.

He crosses his arms over his bare chest, toned muscles rippling with the motion, and stalks over to the bed. “On your knees.”

Obediently, she sinks to the floor, kneeling in front of you with Eren directly behind her. Yes, you just made out with his girlfriend right in front of him but suddenly you’re self-conscious being half naked in front of him.

He’s staring at you and not in the ‘ogling your tits kind of way’. It’s like he’s sizing you up, breaking you down with just his eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

You blink down Mikasa, not believing your ears but you heard the words yourself, clear as day. Eren does nothing but stare, expression unreadable. The room is quiet as they wait for you to answer.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod hesitantly.

Mikasa helps you shuffle out of your shorts and panties in one go, leaving you fully naked. Your legs are already shaking, resisting the urge to snap shut out of embarrassment. You can’t hide anything, not when she holds your legs apart, exposing your bare pussy to herself and Eren.

“Look how pretty she is, Eren.” Her voice is breathy. You’ve never heard her sound like this.

It’s because she’s in awe. Day in, day out you two would lounge around in swimsuits and not once did she picture this is how you would underneath them. Perhaps it’s better that she didn’t, because the thought would drive her crazy.

“Real pretty.” He hums in agreement. He can admit, your little display had him rock solid already. But god seeing you puffy cunt, lips already shiny and slick just from making out has him aching.

Mikasa slips two fingers between your folds, barely grazing your clit.

She pulls her fingers away admiring the way your slick webs between them. She holds her hand up for Eren to see. “Real wet too.”

It proves too tempting for him to resist. Eren leans down to suck on her fingers, cleaning them of your arousal.

You wish you could deny how much it turns you on when you hear him moan at the taste of you on her fingers. But it does and you can only hope they didn't notice how you flinched at the sound.

“You wanna taste her?” He teases when he notices her pout. He’s speaking to her but looking directly at you, pinning you under his gaze. “Then ask.”

“Can I eat you out?” She doesn’t miss a beat.

That tilts your whole world. Are you really sure you’re not dreaming? You nod, not trusting your own voice right now. Mikasa spreads your legs even wider but Eren stops her, firmly grasping the back of her neck.

“Nah. Don’t make it so easy on her. She has to use her big girl words.”

If you weren’t willing to take what you wanted, then he would give it to you. Eren is a nice guy like that. But he’s not that nice. If you wanted it, you were gonna have to say so.

“Right.” She agrees. “I’ll ask again. You gonna let me taste this pretty cunt?”

Eren’s throbbing behind his zipper. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard her talk like that. It’s not a monster, more of a little green pest that buzzes around his brain asking him why she’s never said those kinds of things to him.

“Yes… please.” you answer hastily but neither of the two seem to share your urgency.

Mikasa’s touch returns, spreading your lips apart, only for her gawk at your dripping entrance, so close you feel her exhales on your skin.

The buzz in his head goes quiet because she’s waiting for his permission. She’s still his.

“Go on. Taste.” Eren whispers in her ear.

With one broad stroke, she drags her tongue across your cunt making your hips cant up towards her face, both of you searching for what the other has to give.

You will your eyes to stay open, hoping to brand the image of her between your thighs like this into the recesses of your brain. You don’t know if this will ever happen again and in case it doesn’t, you’ll have this memory.

Her tongue laps at your hole with the kind of excitement you can only hope to reciprocate by grabbing on to her silky hair, pushing her tongue further inside you. Not too hard, just enough to guide her in the direction.

She’s close. Right ther-

“Oi.” A smack echoes throughout the room. Eren is now knelt behind Mikasa, massaging the now sore flesh that was reddened by his hand.

Eren hated that you were a coward and he wanted you to take what you wanted but he’d forgotten that what you wanted was his.

Her attention is on him once again and the familiar jealousy starts to crackle in your belly. When Mikasa said that Eren would “help out” you didn’t think it meant him interrupting you two everytime you were starting to enjoy yourself. Of course it was naive of you to think that Eren would let you enjoy anything tonight. Maybe he did bring you here just to mess with you.

You hoist up your upper body to rest on your elbows just in time to see Eren take out his cock. Or rather he makes sure you see it. Gives you an excellent view in fact. It’s fully erect, bobbing against his abdomen while he gropes the flesh of her ass, giving her one more spank for good measure.

“You said you wanted to top right? Stop bein’ a fucking pushover.” He growls.

Her panties are pulled to the side, letting him press the fat, drooling head past her lips. You feel her breath come out in quick puffs against your thighs as she tries to accommodate his impressive girth. Inch by inch he’s filling her up until his hips press up right against her plush cheeks where he rests for a moment .

You look down to where her head rests on your thigh. Her face is scrunched up in either pleasure or pain, you can’t discern which.

Then Eren starts moving, slow and shallow at first and finally her eyelids flutter open. “I’m not done.” She digs her nails into your skin, making you wince. “Put that pussy back on my face.”

Eren lets out a satisfied noise. He really doesn’t know where she learned to talk like that. Even though she’s talking to you, he still feels it so he rewards her by snapping his hips faster, pulling out almost completely before ramming himself back in.

You don’t need to be told twice. Soon you’re back where you were a minute ago, Mikasa hopes to do the same, dipping her head low, already missing the taste of you on her tongue.

Sure she knows her way around her own body but she’s never eaten anyone out. She wonders if everyone tastes this sweet. Doubtful. She’s so eager for more wanting her tongue as close to the source as possible.

But before she can get there Eren chimes in.

“Nuh-uh baby. Go for the clit.”

Mikasa doesn’t argue because she knows that he’s helping her in the right direction. She can’t vouch for his skills, having had first hand experience. If she could learn to eat pussy half as good as Eren that would be enough to brag about.

She parts your slippery folds ever so delicately until she finds the swollen bud, that’s just throbbing for attention.

Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, tentatively flicking against it. She watches your face intently, taking careful note of your reaction. And what a reaction it is. Your thighs twitch beside her head, threatening to trap her between your thighs while you moan something that definitely sounds like her name.

She wants to hear it again to be sure.

“Spit on it.” He instructs her again.

You don’t think she will. The Mikasa you know would never do something so-

She doesn’t question his orders, cheeks hollowing out to collect her saliva that she allows to mix with your juices.

“See how messy she is? Fuckin’ sloppy.”

“So sexy.” She murmurs before diving for your clit again. Her tongue flicks at it haphazardly, she can’t get a good reach because of the way Eren’s thrusts shake her body. It feels good but you need more, shuffling down the bed until she can wrap her lips around the bundle of nerves. Everytime Eren hits just the right spot inside of her she moans against you, and you can feel the vibrations radiate from your pelvis up your spine.

While you’re so entranced by your own pleasure you don’t notice Eren’s lascivious stare. Mikasa being so eager to make you feel good should enrage him. He shouldn’t be this turned on, watching his girlfriend get on her knees for someone else, especially not you. But seeing the way, you’re so desperately trying to keep yourself from rutting against her face, nearly drawing blood from your bottom lip to try and keep yourself quiet. It’s adorable. But Mikasa has been too easy on you in his opinion and he doesn’t think you deserve ‘easy’. He wants to see your attitude breakdown bit by bit.

“Fingers. Use your fingers baby.” He prompts while slowing his thrusts, giving Mikasa more room to work.

One slender finger slides into your dripping cunt, feeling near no resistance on its way. Noticing how easily you take her, she’s quick to add a second, scissoring her fingers to stretch you out. High pitched ah ah ahs fall from your lips matching the rhythm of the drag of her fingers against your walls, the rhythm of Eren’s thrusts into her. It’s agonisingly slow, so she can enjoy the sight of you sucking her back in every time her fingers attempt to leave and admire the way your sticky arousal drips down her knuckles, onto the satin sheets.

Once Eren decides he’s had enough of that he picks up the pace again, meaning Mikasa has no choice but to follow suit. While her fingers pump in and out of you, she crooks them ever so slightly to try and find your g-spot.

When she prods at the spongy spot you go limp for just a second “Mikasa. Oh my god!” You squeal.

“Oho. She likes it.” Eren remarks, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Keep doing that.”

Mikasa is nothing if not diligent. She consistently aims for that spot while her tongue stimulates your clit, stroking it over and over again. You’re practically rushing towards an orgasm, stomach muscles already tightening up and white spots already clouding your vision.

“G-gonna. Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.” You stammer, teetering on the edge.

“You hear that baby?” Eren asks. “She wants to come for you.”

Eren tugs on her hair, pulling up her head so she can answer him, but all she can manage is a string of needy whimpers.

“What do you say? Hm?” He pulls harder, not satisfied with her response.

“Mm-ah. No.” She slips her fingers out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothings.

“Atta girl.” He praises her, beginning to fuck her in earnest now.

All you can do is watch as Eren fucks her stupid on his cock, driving her closer and closer to her peak while you feel your own pleasure dissapate into nothing.

A hazy fog has descended over her eyes, she’s looking at you but she’s so far gone that she may as well be looking past you.

Eren’s hair is messy, chocolatey strands framing his face, skin dewy with sweat. The heavy plap plap plap of his hips ramming into her ass is deafening. He catches you staring and you can’t even find it in you to be embarrassed although you do regret inflating his already sizeable ego.

“Tell her how it feels.” He hooks his middle finger into her cheek “Tell her how good my cock feels inside you.”

He has no issue with admitting he’s being petty but he wants you to see what he does to her.

No, scratch that.

He wants you to feel it. That deep hunger you have for Mikasa? He wants a share in it too. He wants you hungry like that for him too.

“Feelsh shhho good. Eren’shh cock feelsh sshoo good.” Her words are barely coherent, drool seeping from the corners of her mouth.

“Hmm. Ask her if she wants it.” He grunts.

“You want him to fuck you?” She slurs, words distorted by the obstructing force of his finger.

Do you?

Before you would swear up and down that you hated Eren. You still do. But Mikasa has gone delirious on his cock, mouth hanging open with her tongue lolling out, whining muffled “Eren Eren Eren”s even with him fish hooking her, and you can’t deny that it has you curious. It doesn’t help that you’re still desperate, from being left high and dry, poor empty pussy just begging for attention.

You shake your head yes and Mikasa’s hand comes down hard on your sore puffy clit. “Words.”

“Yes please.” You mewl. Tears prickle at your eyes from the sting between your legs. “Please. I want Eren to fuck me.”

“So well behaved.” Eren mocks you. “Hm?” He stops moving, still balls deep inside her.

“Good girl.” Mikasa practically purrs, lifting her head up once more. The small praise makes you feel flustered, desperate for more.

“Yeah?” His palm comes down hard on her ass. She almost sounds delighted at the pain. “What are you gonna do for your good girl?”

“I’m gonna make her cum on my tongue.” With that she’s back into your pussy, face first, suckling on your clit with quick pulses and pumping into you with three of her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for her to bring you back to that peak. Maybe because she left you on the edge just a moment ago only to let you watch her get fucked within an inch of her life. Maybe it’s you’ve been wanting this, fantasizing about this for weeks. Or maybe it’s because (as per usual), Eren Jaeger doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, a string of filthy words falling from his lips.

“You're doing so well baby.” He still hasn’t moved, more focused watching Mikasa fuck you open on her fingers. She’s so focused on making you cum, he wonders if she’s even listening but he knows that you are. “Gonna make that sloppy pussy cum so good. Let her make a mess all over your face.”

That’s the catalyst. It’s then that you’re falling into the abyss of pleasure, legs shaking as you writhe on the bed, while Mikasa’s fingers ride you through your high, gradually coming to halt as everything subsides.

When you finally feel grounded again, you open your eyes in time to see Eren pull Mikasa’s face towards him. Tonguing at her mouth, licking inside and around it to clean off the remnants of your orgasm. You watch longly from the bed as their tongues tangle together, tasting the mixture of you and each other.

When Eren has had enough, Mikasa turns to you, spit-slicked face gleaming under the dim lights. “My turn right?” She asks you, still slightly breathless.

Eren answers in your stead. “Yeah, take these off.” He stretches the elastic of her underwear so it can flick back against her skin. He’s trying very hard to sound indifferent because he’d be mortified if you knew how eager he was to see Mikasa rut against your face until she cums.

“Move up.” The instruction is for you this time, Eren patting your knees that still dangle over the edge of the bed. You clamber up until your head lands on the soft, downy pillows, body sprawled on the length of the mattress now. Eren crawls on top of you, slotting himself between your thighs. Mikasa sits next to your head, now sans panties.

He nudges against your tender pussy with the bulbous head of his cock, spreading your lips apart ever so slightly.

You don’t expect a ceremony, closing your eyes in anticipation for the burn you know is coming. It never does.

“Beg for it.”

Your eyes fly open, face immediately moulding into a scowl. He looks down at you with unabashed cockiness, clearly amused at your frustration.

“You fucking bastard! I-“

“_____. “ Mikasa trails her hand down your neck, grazing over your sternum and tracing the underside of your breast and circling your areola. Your nipples stiffen under the light touch. “He said ‘beg’.”

“But I already said it, didn’t I!?” Your irritation simmers when you address her, still deep down you cringe at how petulant you sound.

Eren’s hand comes down hard against your pussy and you let out a loud cry on impact. His hands are bigger, stronger and harder than Mikasa’s and that one spank leaves your whole pussy aching.

“Told you babe. You were being too soft.” He slides his tip through your folds while you twitch underneath the two of them, spreading is pre-cum around, mixing it with your juices. “Now she thinks she can get whatever she wants.”

She takes your nipple between her fingers, tugging on it gently. “Is that true?” She twists it hard, making you wince. “ I thought you were a good girl.”

She soothes the sore nipple by laving her tongue across it but the reprieve doesn’t last long as she sinks her teeth into the hardened nub.

“I’ll be good!” You whimper.

You're dizzy from the teasing; Mikasa playing with your tits, mouth around one nipple while her hand gropes the other one and the torturous drag of the full length of Eren’s cock up and down your pussy. It’s slow enough for you to feel every ridge and vein around him, always stopping to tease your entrance, but never giving you the stretch you’re craving.

“P-please.” Your voice is hoarse. “Please Eren fuck me. Pleasepleaseplease.”

He’s content with that; hearing you beg for him. He would never admit out loud that he’s jealous but there is a certain envy that sits heavy in his bones knowing that you want his girlfriend and she wants you just as bad. That's why it helps to know that, at the same time, you want him and he wants you too, just in a different way. It's messy and twisted, perhaps a little too complicated to unravel now. Because right now he wants to fuck you until you cry.

Yeah, that’s the way he wants you

In one quick, smooth motion he enters. You let silent scream and just as you feel full enough to burst, he reaches his hilt.

Mikasa lets go of your nipple with a pop and murmurs, “There’s my good girl.” Against the shell of your ear.

Without warning, Eren starts to move, impossibly deep thrusts, moulding your walls to the shape of him. He prods against a spot inside you that has your back bowing off the bed but he holds you down by planting one of his large hands firmly on your stomach.

Soon, he’s fucking you hard and fast. He can’t help it. The loud sound of your sopping wet cunt squelching every time he slides home, dripping down his hefty balls as they slap against your ass with each brutal thrust, was just egging him on.

That, combined with the sweet-sounding quiet moans of his girlfriend with her hand between her thighs, rubbing quick, quick circles while she’s seemingly unable to take her eyes off of the both of you.

She perches up on her knees to get a better look. Wanting to see exactly where he enters you, wanting to see your pussy stretched out way more than her slim fingers could do.

The creamy ring that encircles the base of Eren’s cock makes her shudder. She feels a sense of pride, knowing that translucent strands of your cum was because of her. Part of why you’re so sex-drunk right now is because of her.

“Eren.” She purrs. “You’re fucking her so good. Making her feel so good.” She uses her free hand to tweak at her nipples, eyes flitting frantically between you and him.

“F-fuck!” You cry out as Eren bottoms out and stays there. He leans over you, face hovering just above yours, the strands of his hair brushing over your cheeks. His pelvis is against your clit, providing delicious pressure but not much else.

“Open.”

It takes a moment for you to process that he’s giving you an instruction. But then, you slacken your jaw, lips parting.

“Looks like you can listen huh?” He sneers. “Stick out your tongue.”

And you do.

It’s all so Eren can drop a glob of spit from his mouth into yours. He makes sure he does it slowly, so that the string of saliva can stretch and stretch and stretch until it plops unceremoniously on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow. Keep it there.”

He gives you another one, coating your tongue in his spit while your own begins to pool in your mouth.

“Hey babe. You didn’t get to cum.” He addresses Mikasa. He gives you one shallow thrust of his hips, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“Yeah?” She perks up, catching the meaning behind his words.

“Yeah.” He grunts, one more of those thrusts that puts him so deep you feel like he’s fucking the air out of your lungs.

She leans over you too now. Two pairs of eyes, look down on you from above. You blink your eyes shut, trying to escape their scrutiny.

“Open your eyes, sweet girl.” Mikasa coaxes you out of your sheepishness. She purses her baby pink lips, as if considering her next words. “Make me cum. Can you do that for me?”

For the third time that night, you have to question if you’re dreaming or not.

You nod your head a yes, feeling your own saliva pool in your mouth.

“So, so good.” Mikasa tells you.

“Shit.” Eren’s hips jerk against you, when. you squeeze tight around him when she tells you that. “Say that again.” He grits out.

Mikasa is positioning herself, facing Eren with her knees next to your ears, soaking wet pussy just an inch or so above your face.

“What?”

Their conversation is nothing but a faint buzz in the back of your mind, how could you focus on anything except what was right in front of you. Her pretty pink pussy, all wet just for you. The smell of her is heady, rich and sweet. The kind of thing you would get addicted to. God if she would only….

“——, you're such a good girl.” She sighs as she finally sinks down, resting directly on your face.

You moan involuntarily, finally getting to taste what your mouth has been watering for. You let your tongue stay still, letting her grind herself down on it. She tries to roll her hips in fluid motions but they stutter every time her clit rolls over your tongue as she lets out the most melodic moans.

You know that you’re being greedy now, but you can’t help it, the more she gives you, the more you want. Your hands fly up to her thighs and hold her in place. The tip of your tongue catches the rim of her leaking hole, trying to draw more of the sweet honey.

Eren clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “There you go again, letting her do whatever she wants.”

She pays him no mind, slipping her hand between her thighs to play with her clit, while your tongue massages the inside of her walls. “You’re just mean. She just wants to make me feel g-good r- ah right?” She rubs Her other hand tweaks one of your nipples, signalling to you that she wants an answer.

You moan a yes, muffled by the weight of her. You’re darting your tongue in and out of her pussy, unintentionally matching the pace of Eren’s unyielding thrusts.

She rolls the pulsing numb under her fingers, round and round. Her breathing quickens as she tries to bounces on your face; shallow up and down movements.

You can tell she’s close and briefly lament the fact that you won’t be able to see her face when she cums. You wish you could see what she looks like when that wave of pleasure finally crests. But when her knees dig into the mattress beneath her and rooting her firmly against your face, moaning your name as the waves of an orgasm rock her body, you can’t bring yourself to regret a thing. You’d let Eren have that. Getting to swallow down every drop that spills from her is more than a fair trade-off.

You clamp down on Eren’s cock, quickly approaching another orgasm of your own. Mikasa rides out hers by rutting against your tongue, her moans gradually fading into gasps.

“Make her real cum real hard okay ‘Ren?” She still hasn’t fully regained her bearings before she climbs off your face, (much to your dismay). “She really earned it.” She sighs giddy with bliss, plopping down beside you, turning her body to face you.

Eren huffs. “Your wish is my command.” His reaches your raw clit, rubbing it in harsh circles, setting your nerves alight like a livewire. There’s no way you could have held off your orgasm. Your muscles pull taut as you cum around his cock while he pummels your g-spot throughout your climax. As soon as you’ve come down, he pulls out of you. You whine, despite yourself, disappointed at the abrupt emptiness.

Eren mutters various expletives as he strokes himself over you. He’s coated in your cum and it makes the most obscene noise with every flick of his wrist. He releases onto your stomach hot, white ropes of cum shooting out, streaking from your belly button right down to the mound of your pussy. He milks his cock, desperate to get out every last drop, jolting his hips with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

He collapses on your other side, leaving you sandwiched between the couple.

For a moment the room is filled just with heavy breathing, the three of you recovering from your recent activities.

Mikasa drags her fingers across your torso, smearing Eren’s cum over your skin.

Your body is sticky all over, a mess of sweat and sex. All of you are. But you’re not able to get your muscles to move, just yet.

As the lust that fogs your brain clears, nagging questions start to rear their head.

‘What does this mean for us now?’ being the most pertinent.

You roll over, to face Mikasa.

Perhaps now isn’t the time to ask, but you’ve learned your lesson about waiting until the right time. It’s in everyone’s best interest to clear it all up as soon as possible.

“So um- agh!” you choke around a sudden intrusion and a salty taste spreads across your taste buds.

“Not now.” Mikasa gags you with two of her digits that are coated in Eren’s cum.

“Yeah.” Eren jostles behind you. His sinewy arm snakes around your waist pulling you into his chest. At the small of your back you can feel his dick pressed up against you, already at half mast. “We’ll talk later.”

#love island collab #dyk it’s mandatory for islanders to go to therapy after the show #i think my subconscious took that info and ran #CAUSE THEY ARE ALL SO BAD AT FEELINGS??? #and have 0 communication skills #eren yaeger smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot x reader #aot smut #eren smut #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman smut #eren yaeger x reader #mikasa x eren #mikasa x eren smut #tw spitting

[cherrywoes]

crimson king. (diavolo x fem!reader.)

prologue.

“Stricken among a field of poppies,

With hair as red as molten flame,

The Crimson King brought low the thane,

And thus usurped his father’s throne,

For there would be a day the world would end,

And he would not see it until his own life’s end.”

— the records of Paimon, King of the West.

masterlist | i. cruor.

♕

“LADIES, GATHER ‘ROUND.” The Matriarch of House Gascoigne clapped her silk gloved hands sharply. The sound echoed throughout the dance room, cracking through the air with the force of a whip. “We have news from the capital!”

An excited murmur rose amongst the girls. It had been months since the royal family had last issued news on any events regarding the palace, or the King and Queen themselves; ever since their children, the prince and princess, had fallen ill with some unknown illness, not a mere scant of word was allowed outside the palace doors, much less from the mouths of maids and butlers. It had left much of House Gascoigne (their female occupants, at least) with little to do besides practice their waltz, needlework, and plan on wooing the finest bachelors in the kingdom. To have this little bit of gossip to break their melancholy was welcoming—even if it was bad news, for a time.

“News from the capital!” One girl gasped, reaching for the letter in delight. The Matriarch held it high above her head, swatting the girl’s grasping fingers with the paper and striking a deep cut in her hand. She hissed and pressed the well of blood to her mouth, scowling at the older woman.

“Yes, news.” The Matriarch’s stony gray gaze flickered over the throng of girls, counting each head—seven in all, her daughters—and found herself just one shy. She counted once more, just to be sure, and yet again, she was lacking a duckling with particular [color] hair and [color] eyes. “Where’s [Name]?”

“[Name]?” Another of the sisters rolled her eyes and stamped her heel. The hem of her dress caught in the stiletto and she was forced to listen to the slight tear of the seam as it punctured through the expensive fabric. “Please! It’s not like she cares for idle gossip; open the letter, mother!”

“Last I heard she went out hunting with father,” one crowed slyly, waving a lace fan in front of her face coquettishly. Her eyes, sharp and blue, darted over to the matriarch, whose face was unmoving. “Not much of a change, is it, sisters?”

“Girls!” The matriarch’s sharp tone cut through the speculating chatter like a knife. The sisters dropped their gazes to the floor momentarily, then back up to their mother, properly chastised. “I am ashamed of you—all of you. Speaking of your sister as if she is scum of the earth; why, your father would be disappointed in all of you. I do not believe any of you deserve to hear this news today.”

“No, mother! We promise not to speak of her as such again!” Similar sentiment rose, each girl pleading with their mother individually with different promises and different oaths. “Please, the letter!”

The matriarch looked upon her daughters with a narrowed gaze. They returned her stare with ones of silent pleading. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Very well then. Let’s see what it says, shall we?”

She cracked the wax seal upon it and with a cough to clear her throat, began to read.

“Marriage?” You parroted back at your father with gawkish eyes. Your mare came to a still beneath you, snuffling at a patch of vibrant green grass, a product of the new spring. You could feel the stays of your corset protest at the deep inhale of disbelief you took, squeezing hard shards of whale bone against your ribs. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“It’s time, [Name].” Your father sighed, much in the same way your mother would do when she was exasperated with something you or one of your sisters had said. He adjusted the reins of his horse’s bridle, nervous, and stared off in the distance somewhere away from you. “You know I would never force you into an arranged marriage, but…”

“But I need to start looking,” you mocked in a high, posh voice. You snorted through your nose and fixed him with a dark glower. “How many times have I heard that before? Ten? Twelve?”

“I know… I know your mother pressures you,” he amended,”but this time I’m afraid I’m the one asking you to begin searching. You’re twenty years old, [Name], far past the age of marriage already; I just want to see you well off and comfortable, if not happy.”

“And my happiness doesn’t matter as long as I’m well off and comfortable.”

This wasn’t how you expected your day out with your father to go. You had expected to hunt dove, at most, maybe a few squirrels or two; your quiver had been packed to handle it. Instead, you had gotten barely a foot or so into the forest, your mare eager to head into the lush grass, before he was bringing up the subject of your marriage—again. This wasn’t the first time you had heard it, but it was the first time it had come from him, and you were starting to wonder if they were just concerned or wanted you gone.

“Sometimes you can have one thing and forsake the other.” He shrugged helplessly. “I would rather you have money and comfort. But if you can somehow gain happiness as well, then…”

Which was highly unlikely, he was saying, as your marriage would likely be out of convenience, as the majority of your older sisters’ were. Your family was rich and everyone wanted part of the Gascoigne fortune—if not in gold, then in their daughters. Each of your sisters had a dowry large enough to buy off a country or two and every dirty old man wanted a piece of it, whether you were willing or not. Luckily, your parents were not so old fashioned as to arrange your marriage with a far older man, or push you in that direction, but they directly encouraged you to get married soon, and quickly. It didn’t help that a lot of the men repeated the foul saying “Gascoigne pussies are as good as gold”, meaning that if they were lucky enough to get any of your sisters or yourself with child, they might as well be set for life.

You didn’t want that. Not if you could help it.

With narrowed eyes, you looked at your father once more. He was fidgeting in his saddle, avoiding looking at you entirely, and by the look on his face, you had to wonder if he was just nervous or debating asking you to attend a debut ball knowing full well that you would be five years older than any other girl there—at least, that was your assumption. You had missed your first and subsequent balls after a particular rough bout of sickness that kept you bedridden; you had only recently been able to function normally again, albeit with some lightheadedness if you were too active in a short period of time.

“Right.” You reached up and held a hand over your head to deflect an oncoming branch. “Well, I guess I have no choice in the matter, do I?”

He sighed once more. “You know if I had any other choice, I would give you all the time in the world, [Name]. But the older you get the more you risk turning out an old crone with no marriage ties. I don’t want that for you—your mother doesn’t want that for you.”

You huffed and turned your head. Your mother’s sole goal was to marry off all of her daughters to eligible bachelors to get them off her hands; at least the ones who didn’t cater to her every whim, like yourself and a few other of your sisters. She was not a cruel mother by any means, but she was a thorn in your side at times, especially with her insistence on perfection. Your waltz and embroidery were as perfect as they were going to get, and you most certainly weren’t going to shrink your waist down to her tastes either. You would be surprised if she didn’t have something else to harp on you about when you returned home.

“I suppose.” A glance at the sky revealed it was already lunch time. You had already skipped tea with your mother and sisters; skipping another meal was a bad idea, even if you were out hunting. A very unladylike sport, she would probably hiss. “We should probably get back for lunch if we don’t want mother getting angry at us again.”

Your father almost seemed surprised, looking up at the sky himself. “It is, isn’t it? I heard we’re having pigeon pie today.”

“Pigeon pie?” You repeated slowly. “Father, that was yesterday. We’re having potato soup today.”

“Oh. Are we?”

You didn’t answer, watching him turn his horse around and begin the ride back home. You followed at a distance behind him, watching as he regarded the trail as if it was entirely new to him and familiar in some spots. You had been wondering if his illness had gotten worse and your proof was right in front of you. His father before him had been afflicted with the same memory loss, a product of a few lines of inbreeding centuries before, you had heard, but only in the paternal line. It had started with him mixing up names and stuttering them into the proper ones; then he slowly began to fall out of his routine, eyeing his paperwork in slight confusion; and just now, forgetting days and time.

Before you could call out to him and ask what day he thought it was, you heard an ungodly screech coming from the manor. It sounded faintly like one of your sisters, but it was loud enough that the birds in the trees startled and took to the sky. You urged your horse into a canter, your father following suite, and the closer you got, the more you could make out actual voices instead of mindless screeching.

“—this is ridiculous! How does she get to go to the palace and I’m stuck here?! Mother, it makes no sense! She’s twenty years old, she has no chance—”

“—oh, please, Violetta, like you could do any better at nineteen—”

“—says you two, I could sweep him off his feet without even a—”

“—I wouldn’t even need a dance, just five minutes alone in a—”

“—Adrielle, shut your mouth! I ought to send you to a convent!”

“There she is!” A finger went flying to point to you as your mare pushed through the treeline, hooves clopping on firm stone. “Mother, tell her to turn down the offer!”

All of your sisters, including even the youngest ones, just shy of fourteen, were gathered around the cut in the pathway in a tight cluster. All of them had some range of fury or irritation on their faces as they looked at you, clutching their lace fans or skirts tightly in their fists. You had only faintly heard your mother’s threat to send Adrielle to a convent and raised an eyebrow at the little crowd they made, pulling your horse to a halt with her reins. You wouldn’t dare risk dismounting in a dress, so you stared down at them all from your mount in confusion.

“[Name],” your mother approached your horse with some hesitation, eyeing the mare’s ears in any hint of her mood. “Here. This arrived for you in the mail today.”

You didn’t miss the sour tone in her voice. You accepted the opened letter from her with a raised eyebrow, the broken seal on the back stamped with the royal crest. Your sisters watched you like a hawk, searching for any hint that you weren’t happy with whatever the letter said.

While the envelope wasn’t addressed to you, the letter inside was: it was written in the elegant hand of the Queen herself, even down to a personalized address from her as well.

‘Dear [Name] of House Gascoigne,

It is my pleasure to notify you that you have been selected to participate in the Bride Hunt for Prince Diavolo of the Devildom. As you filled all the requirements to participate, you, along with three other girls in your bracket, will be escorted to the palace to participate in a selection of games picked by the prince himself. As this is a show of goodwill between our kingdom and that of the Devildom, we encourage you to be on your best behavior with your fellow competitors and play to win.

As a more personal note, I do hope you participate, [Name]. I believe you have a true chance at winning, my dear.

Queen Cordelia.’

In the corner of the letter was her personal seal, stamped in shining red wax. Unbroken, you could make out the sigil of the phoenix, a half of the official crest. You looked up at your mother’s expectant face and then at your father’s hopeful one, having likely guessed what it was.

You sighed.

“I suppose I’m going to the palace after all, then.”

Your sisters groaned in disappointment. Some of them even clicked their tongues at you and turned to head inside, your mother turning on her heel and chiding them on their childish behavior.

Your father caught your eye as you moved your horse to head to the stables. His smile was one of pride and hope, as if this had made all of his dreams come true.

You only hoped you wouldn’t disappoint him when it all was over.

taglist (open): @crashica (just let me know if you want to be added!)

#diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #diavolo obey me #diavolo x y/n #obey me #obey me:swd #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me shall we date

[disastrouslyyours]

Here is a drabble catered to your personal tastes: Spamton plays a lovely song for somebody on the piano. Have at thee.

I am a puddle a small puddle on the ground, don’t mind me.

Using this as a warm up before I tackle some of the other requests in my inbox! The masculine urge to write Spam saying “Do ya like jazz?”

Optional listening

When you first brought Spamton home, you were surprised to find that the thing that excited him most was your old upright piano. It had been your grandmother’s, and it came with you every place you moved. She taught you how to play at a young age, and while it was more for decoration than anything nowadays, you could be heard softly plunking out old favorite songs a couple times a month. It was the first thing he walked up to upon being welcomed inside, and while gently running his fingers across the keys he asked you if it was alright if he gave it a try.

“IT’S BEEN YEARS SINCE I’VE GOTTEN THE [Now’s Your Chance] TO PLAY.” He mutters more to himself than to you as he pulls himself onto the cushioned piano bench. Splaying his fingers across the keys he rolls out a soft melody, more testing out the keys than attempting to play anything in particular. He glances down and grimaces when he realizes his foot doesn’t reach the pedal, so he hops off the bench and opts to stand instead. Careful hands craft a melancholy melody, something soft and heartfelt that sounds vaguely familiar. You pull the bench to the side to sit on it, resting your head in your hands as he plays. This funny little puppet man you pulled out of a dumpster mere hours ago entered your house, and instead of running straight to your kitchen to raid your fridge, opted to see if he still had the muscle memory “from 1997”, as he put it.

You watch him in silence, heart racing out of intrigue, and wonder what’s going through his head. He suddenly sighs and opens his mouth to sing. His voice is surprisingly tender, and lacks any of the vocal clips you’ve started to become accustomed to. When he glances over to see you staring at him, a slight blush spreads across your face and you shuffle yourself to sit up a bit straighter.

“Surprised?” He chuckles, his tone much softer than before. “I told you, I’m a man of many [Talents].” You offer a small round of applause and he turns a wonderful shade of red.

You think about that first night whenever he plays, about how happy he was when he realized he had retained much of his ability and how flustered he was when you told him his voice was lovely. You wanted to ask him to play you more, but wanted to give him the space to settle into his new living situation. Now, several months later, you rarely have to ask. He’ll sit and serenade you for as long as you’d like, sometimes inviting you to join him by playing one of your favorite songs. You’ll sing along and he’ll beam at you with the same fervent expression as the night you took him home. But unlike the night you took him home, instead of applauding his nightly concerts, you get to pull him into a tender kiss and whisper your thanks against his marvelously crimson cheeks.

#i am so tender at this time no one perceive me #drabble requests #auntiemagnus #thank you for indulging me in my saccharine desires #no bc im so in love with him ugh

[azurevi]

3 halloween tales (cater, jade & vil)

This is really random, but the ssr cards for the halloween show have given me many au ideas, so here are my self-indulgent stories inspired by them. The Cater one is especially long because I got a lot of ideas about it. For the Vil one.. it's pretty disappointing how it turned out, but I hope it's not too bad. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS!

WARNINGS : death (all), mild mention of gore (cater), war + mild possessiveness + violence (jade) [let me know if there're more!]

the heart and its eternal weight

Cater is a cemetery caretaker. It isn't that he really loves it, but his father was one. He feels like it is only right to take after his steps.

He isn't into superstitions. Some people find distaste in his job, but it's something crucial for Cater. People, even after they're dead, should still be honored, and so deserve a hospitable place to rest. 

Everyday is a routine for him. Sometimes, though, the families of the passed talk to him about their stories and their emptiness once their loved ones are gone. Cater finds the beauty and softness in humans by hearing these stories, and it makes him even more dedicated to his job. 

It's natural to him, dying. His father was killed in an unintended accident, and sometimes it seems like his death could have been avoidable just as much as it was inevitable. He just wishes that he had had more time with him.

One of the lessons his father taught him about graveyard caretaking is to beware of ghosts. Those who recently died are more visible and intimate with the world of the living, and so they might appear before humans. Some are inhostile, of course, but there are malevolent ones.

Lore has it that some ghosts prey on hearts. It is said that the heart is the most important part of a human, as it is accountable for life, death and emotions. People believe that ghosts can be revived with a fresh, still-beating heart, and as a result the human giving up their heart will die in place of the ghost. Basically, the heart can also create ripples in the fabric of space-time.

Because of his job, he isn't all that popular among others, and he only has a few life-long close friends, his mother and sisters by him. So even if he has a crush on the most admirable person he's ever seen, he still won't make it known in fear of rejection. He figures that he still has time to figure it out.

And he's wrong. News about your tragic death spread around quickly like wildfire, and he's devastated. It feels wrong to even feel so, because he has never been acquainted with you in the first place.

Your body is buried in his cemetery, and a lot of people come to your funeral that day. Some of your family members are so heartbroken and pitiable, and so Cater offered to be their listener.

All he can hear is about the great work you've done, the care you put into everyone you met, the warmth that radiated off you while you were still alive. It breaks Cater how he's never had the privilege to know you, to experience all your graces with his own perspective.

One night, the moon is lit and hung up high in the sky, so close that it seems to be prying on Earth and the people roaming on it. Cater is patrolling with his lawnmower when he hears quiet and uncertain sobs.

He is creeped out, yes, but he's also curious. He's never seen a ghost before, and it could be a human for all he knows.

He's proved wrong once again, as he discovers your opaque body behind a giant tree. You are hugging their legs close to your chest, and a rotting hole's visible where your heart should be.

There's no way you can be hostile, and you certainly won't kill him for his heart, so Cater decides to approach you gently, tentatively, like you're smoke that will disperse the moment he intrudes.

To his surprise, you can hear him clearly, and even invite him to sit down with him. It's so bizarre -- a ghost asking for a conversation! But Cater doesn't mind as he pops down beside you. He notices how although you were no longer solid, it still feels like tense when his hand passes through you. Certainly it's because you've been dead not for long.

And so the two of you indulge in heartful conversations, and Cater finds himself regretting even more about how he never gathered the courage to go up to you. Mid-conversation you tell him about all the things that you wish you could've done and all the ideas you wished to spread.

Cater probably shouldn't have, but he is so absorbed in your ambitions and kindness that he offers to carry out all these great things for you. After numerous confirmations, you agree too to let him carry out your thoughts.

And so Cater works in his neighbourhood, sharing campaigns and donating, taking care of lost pets and cats and partaking in environment improvement. He's never felt so fulfilled before, and it's the first time he feels like he's genuinely making a difference in the world.

In times he's not representing you, he brings you up on the little hill behind the cemetery where the moon and stars are so close and vibrant, where they all dance in the dark ballroom and pulse in excitement of being seen. He wishes he could show you more hidden gems, but your spectral spirit cannot be too far away from your body. 

But it's enough.

A month passes and Cater notices subtle change in your behaviour as well as appearance, like how you're responding with less enthusiasm and how the hole in your chest is growing bigger. When he finally asks about it, he's told that ghosts generally only stay in the world of the living for 49 days, and their heart will rot away in this period. After that, they will have to go to the underworld, never be back again.

Cater is certainly shocked that the lore is more than a children's makeup story. He is well aware of the significance of the heart in relation to the soul and life. 

He asks if you'd like to have his heart instead, so bluntly and casually. You seem to return to their original intimate self when you refuse. 

"I'm already gone. It's you, the living, who should be making changes,"

So he pretends that you're not getting more and more unresponsive and less and less generous. He turns a blind eye against your wavering figure and how you can't be seen at all in the sun. He plays dumb when in reality, you're slipping away before his very own eyes, heart rotting away like nothing more than a fruit.

It hurts finally knowing and understanding someone and having to lose them. 

On the 48th day, you are already but a still, soulless shadow, leaning beside your gravestone and fresh, white flowers. Cater can still see you. Sometimes he thinks that you chose to be seen.

And he can't bear to see you go. To see your dreams go into flames, to watch such a pretty soul just - vanish.

So he gives you his heart. Alive and beating and sentimental. It doesn't even hurt a bit. 

You wake up immediately, your eyes glowing and body solidifying. 

"What have you done?" 

"What I can do to make a change,"

Time is starting to rewrite itself. Cater is going to die in your place. The space around you was warping and folding into itself, softly and rightly like a lullaby.

Just before you slip into darkness, you gather up a whole bunch of rose petals and desperately stuff them into the hole in Cater's chest, as if they can give him life in lieu of a heart, and you are sobbing and clinging onto his still warm arm, never wanting to let go.

It's all Cater wants, to save a wasted soul and to make a difference. 

And so he cradles your face, and leans in the moment everything goes black. When he wakes up again, he's weightless in the cemetery, where a bunch of well arranged roses lie on his buried body.

a melancholy specimen

To Jade, beauty needs to be preserved to be constant. It's just like flowers. They die away without proper care.

Just when he thinks he's seen all the beauties of the world and is getting bored of it, he meets you. A blooming flower sparkling in the bland, old boring world around it. He's immediately captivated - how a person can still manage to flourish in such a rotten world where everything is depressing and all man is for themselves!

You're the most elegant piece of art he's seen, and that's something considering that he owns a museum. Innocence lies in your eyes and bravery sings itself between your lips.

You find him just equally amusing -- gentlemanly, insightful and just a touch of flirtation. The two of you fall in love like Alice down the rabbit hole - amused and unstoppable, fascinated by the wonders evolving about.

But the world doesn't give a damn about love, nor do they understand your dreams of a bright future where everything is close to hearts. They call you both madness and nonsense.

"Their souls are tainted with war and sorrow. They are beyond the point of rescue. Victory and glory are all that can feed their ego,"

Jade is disappointed. War has gouged people's eyes out and filled them with wails and ash.

The two of you are the only stars in the night sky, still fighting for salvation, yearning for a better future where trees grow and flowers yearn for the sun. You promote and do your best to lift the veil of darkness off the world. 

But the sun doesn't understand either. War keeps going on and on, and people never have the time for aesthetic relaxations. It refuses to shed light on its pitiable humans.

"We should evacuate, Jade. They say a bomb is dropping tomorrow,"

Jade doesn't care and can't care. The most paramount thing is to open his eyes to the beauty of this world. He doesn't want to become one of those barbarous men, tasting dirt and blood on their tongue while they glorify violence and brutalness.

He stays behind while his neighbourhood dies away. You are the only ones yet to leave. 

"Please don't leave me, Y/N. You're the only light in my life,"

You can't bear to leave him, and so you stay. The bomb is dropped, and it's too close. Too hot. Too cruel, too inhumane. It ravages everything in its way, burning all the darkened things to the ash and bringing the only beauty left in this world with it.

Jade wails. Broken cries are engulfed by nearby explosions and the cackling of flames. Your soulless body lies amidst the destruction, just another wilted flower in the slit of a rock, deprived of water and sunlight.

He finally understands. Nothing can save the world anymore. It's gone way too far, and it will never recover from malevolence. All he can feel is pity for his world as his heart ache with spite.

Bandages around his hands, he wraps your corpse up completely, preserved underneath the layers. You will be his reminder that there was once a flower in this drought, an anchor keeping him from becoming one of those barbarians.

lifeless silhouette in the dark night

You can never recognize directions. You find yourself stumbling upon a seemingly inhabited mansion in the middle of the woods. Cold and bruised, you knock on its door.

Welcoming you is a tall man with blonde and lilac hair called Vil. His skin is unnaturally white, and his eyes seem to glow like orbs that eat your souls. But you are too tired to make notice of all these details, and he's kind enough to let you stay for the night.

He treats you with ravishing cuisine and a grand bedroom that was as grotesque as the rest of the house. Afterwards, he leaves you to rest, but not before warning you not to get out of the room post midnight.

You oblige- for the first half hour. Then you start to hear wails and footsteps that amplify and disappear. It's impossible to sleep.

The next morning, you confront Vil about it. He refuses to face the questions as he ushers you to get going, and so off you go.

You spend another day lost in the woods, then somehow come face to face with the mansion again. Vil is beyond shocked to see you, but then he breaks into a deep smile.

"It's almost as if you belong here,"

Weirdly enough, you could agree, There seemed to be an invisible force pulling you towards Vil. After dinner, he orders you not to leave the room again before making his leave.

Broken wails. Recurring footsteps. You can't bear it any longer, and you also wonder if Vil is aware of this. He properly is, and thus tells you to stay safe inside the room.

But dumb curiosity gets the best of you, and you open the door and step into the endless corridors.

The wails come from the host's room, where Vil is supposed to be. You're closing in when its door is suddenly flung open, and out runs a panting Vil.

"Vil? What are-"

His eyes are bloodshot and there's red stain in the corner of his mouth. Sweat dots his forehead. He looks disheveled and the complete opposite of how he was during dinner.

"You shouldn't be here. Get back - get back in!"

His voice booms in your skull, and you're running back to your room before you notice. 

It's another sleepless night.

To your luck, Vil doesn't wait for you to bring the incident up.

"Don't be creeped ou by it, please."

He seems very uneasy about it, but he's obstinate to give you an explanation.

Turns out that he is a vampire. One that has lived for 500 years and is waiting for his eventual death. He's seen everything in this world and lived through the best and worst of humanity. He understands people's fear about vampires, and so he resides in the remote part of the wood. He only ever drinks the blood of small animals that he hunt, and never has he once killed a man.

He knew nothing about what'd happen to him when he became a vampire. If he'd known about the repercussions, he'd never have become one in exchange of eternal beauty. Now he has to turn someone else into a vampire to end his immortality. It is only a cycle.

 Every night the moon rises and spills into his room, and he has to fight his urge to go out and taste the sweet blood of humans. 

There are times when he slips and loses control, but he always manages to get back to his senses. But it seems that your presence here in the mansion is awaking his desire to suck you dry.

You're bewildered to say the least, and frankly horrified. But at the same time you feel pity for him, for he is just a man who can't ever do anything as atrocious as hurting people.

And so you offer to end his suffering. Of course Vil disagrees. He just talked about how he never wanted to take a life, and now you're offering yourself to him? He'd never allow it.

But you're even more persistent. You keep staying in his mansion, and his sanity slips a little more every night. And you know that he's contemplating too, for he never tries to kick you out of his mansion.

"You deserve a rest, Vil. For your love and selflessness. For all the unspoken kindness you bestow on others. It is only fair that you get to rest,"

Vil has lived a life. He's but a mere walking corpse now, and a rest -- a sleep -- sounds just like what he needs.

And so he rests. Vil falls into a deep, serene sleep while you endure each and every dark night.

#twst x reader #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland #cater diamond #jade leech #vil schoenheit #sie writes #twisted wonderland imagines

[misc-headcanons]

Hi! Can I get headcanons/scenarios/whatever you like about Sanji falling for a girl and then during their relationship, he finds out she's a former princess whose kingdom was conquered by Germa? (If asks are closed, please just delete this!)

Sanji would be a fantastic boyfriend to his darling ____, catering to her every whim and being a perfect gentleman. He'd even try his best to avoid swooning over every beautiful woman he sees, because his s/o is the most radiant gem he could ever set eyes upon. 

His energetic, heart-on-his-sleeve persona seems to fade for just a bit when his girlfriend tries to find out more about his past. He loves ____, more than life itself, but...it's hard to open up about years of abuse and trauma, even to your loved ones sometimes. That cloud of melancholy only appears for a moment or two before he manages to change the subject or only talk about his childhood with Zeff, but after a while it starts to get more and more noticeable.

When ____ asked to talk to him privately, he was immediately concerned by the serious look on her face. What was wrong? Whatever it was, he'd be there for her no matter what. Once they were alone, and the first words out of her mouth were "...I'm a princess", he just smiled brightly. Of course she was; she was his beautiful, magnificent princess, and he was her loyal prince!

But as she explained further, that she was the literal princess of a now-ruined kingdom, he became silent. And when she solemnly said that her former kingdom was conquered by the Germa Kingdom, his eyes would widen and his chest would feel like it was made of lead. They'd done this. They were the ones who ruined his beloved's life and family.

He'd start to panic internally, wondering how she would react if she found out that he was related to the bastards who destroyed her home and family. Would she hate him? Of course she would. She should. Dammit...how is it that even after he thought he'd escaped their torment, Judge and his brothers manage to find new ways to hurt him and his true loved ones without even realizing it?

If his girlfriend told him that she'd always known (or just suspected--those eyebrows are a pretty distinctive trait) he was related to them, he'd be stunned. Why did she even want to spend time with him at all, much less be in a relationship with him? He sometimes struggles with his self-worth, and hearing that the woman he loves most loves him back, despite being related to the Vinsmokes...it fills him with so many different overwhelming emotions. 

He would be so filled with pure love for his s/o that he wouldn't be able to properly articulate it. He'd just wrap his arms around her while tearing up, and when he finally did say something, he'd tell her that he'll do anything it takes to right the wrongs his former family has done to her. She deserves that and so much more, and he's so thankful he has someone like her as a bright ray of light in a life so filled with gray and darkness.

One of his nicknames for her up until this point was "princess" (and many flowery variations and additions: "my darling princess", "princess of my heart", etc.), but he'd promise to never call her that again if it brought up any painful memories. He wants her to be as comfortable as possible; plus, he has many, MANY other sweet names for her that don't relate to royalty. And he will use all of them, because she deserves it.

Now that they know about each other's past, he would ask her about what her kingdom was like (if she was alright talking about it). He wants to learn about her homeland's customs and history, and her family. He'd also open up more about his own past, and whenever his s/o comforted him about it, he'd start to tear up again. It just feels like such a weight off of his shoulders to hear someone he loves so much tell him things he sometimes doubted as a child: "You didn't deserve that", "You're not useless or weak", "You do deserve love"...

When he returned to Germa for the wedding, he'd be heartbroken about being forced to marry someone for the sake of his biological family--especially when they're the ones who ruined his true s/o's former life. Before he left them for good with the Straw Hats, his true family, he'd land one solid kick against Judge in ____'s honor. If it weren't for his extremely high level of compassion, he would have killed him; to be honest, when he looked back at his s/o on the Sunny and then to Judge's face...he thought about doing it, just for a moment. But deep down, he knew he couldn't. Besides, he'd never do something like that in front of his princess--he's her gentleman prince, after all.

#one piece #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece headcanon #one piece headcanons #female s/o #mine #sry if these are long and rambly lol 😅

[aurora-australis-tumbles]

Hi there :) I loved your soulmate short fic! Do you still take requests for the short fic ask? If so: 22 and Phrack, please :) If not, that's totally fine!

Of course! Here you go! (also for Anonymous who asked for the same number)

Hope you enjoy it!

two miserable people meeting at a wedding au

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

“Excuse me, I think that’s mine.”

Phryne pointed in irritation at the plate on the table and, more specifically, the sugary confection upon it. It was bad enough that the caterers hadn’t provided enough cake for everyone, but what really irked her was that even after she’d managed to heroically snag the last slice, she’d still somehow wound up empty handed.

Well, no, not “somehow.”

She knew exactly how.

The photographer had asked to take her photo and she’d put it down for one second and this...this… THIEF had swooped in to steal it. Luckily she’d tracked him down before he’d managed to take his first filched bite.

“Sorry?”

He looked so confused at the accusation she graciously amended her assessment — this daft man had swooped in to steal it.

“That’s my cake,” she told him. “I put it down. You picked it up. I’d like it back now.” The man’s eyes darted between her and the dessert, a doleful expression on his handsome face, and her ire softened. Slightly.

“Uh, yes… yes of course.”

He started to hand it to her, but instead of taking the cake, Phryne took the seat next to him. With one hand resting on the very edge of the plate, she offered the stranger a smile.

“Ok, don’t take this the wrong way, but, quite frankly, you look miserable.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do I?”

“You do. You look miserable, and I know I am, so I’ll make you a deal — saddest story gets the slice.”

His lips turned down in an expression she took to mean thoughtfulness, before he nodded. “Deal.” Then he made a little “go ahead” motion with his hand, before putting it on the other side of the plate in a mirror image of Phryne's. “Ladies first.”

“Well,” Phryne began, “I’m here with my assistant who begged me to be her date so she wouldn’t have to go alone, who has since abandoned me to flirt all night with some man she met at the coat check. Really at this point she’s dropped so many hints I’m surprised he hasn't made a move yet.” Phryne pointed across the room at Dot, who was currently deep in conversation with a handsome young man who was hanging on her every word. The gentleman next to her chuckled, and Phryne shot him a questioning look.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just know him. And honestly he might not even have realized she’s flirting.”

“Well be that as it may, I’m now all alone at a wedding where I know absolutely no one and all the people I’ve tried to talk to have either been too drunk or too tedious to hold my attention.” She shot him a smile. “Present company excluded.” Phryne put a little more pressure on the plate, and started pulling it towards herself. “So you see I clearly win.”

“The bride is my ex-wife.”

Phryne’s surprise caused her to lose her grip on the plate and it skittered towards him.

“Oh.” Her eyes involuntarily found the happy couple, smiling at each other across the room, and then flew back to the man. “Oh. And you’re…” She lowered her voice. “You’re still in love with her?”

The man jerked his head up in surprise. “What? No. No. That’s not... “ He sighed. “The split was very amicable, and several years ago, and I’m happy to say we’ve remained good friends.” He waved around the room. “Hence the invitation tonight.”

“But…” Phryne supplied, helping him along.

“But…” He glanced over at a group of people two tables away who caught his look and glared back. “Some people need every story to have a villain and her family seem to have cast me in the role. It’s been a ... tense night.” He shrugged at her, a little awkwardly and not just a little sad. “So... I get cake.”

Phryne watched him, saw the hint of melancholy in his eyes with just a dash of guilt and wondered if maybe a small part of him had assigned himself that role as well, though her instincts screamed that if so he’d been woefully miscast.

Well... that wouldn’t do.

She put her hand back on the plate. “Absolutely not.” He looked up at her in surprise and she shook her head. “You’ve managed to remain friends with your former wife, who, if my assistant is to be believed, is a very lovely and sensible woman. That she asked you to be here today says quite a lot about you both. You’re doing fine. I, on the other hand, am all alone and missing an exhibit opening at the Gertrude.”

He raised an eyebrow at her assessment, but there was a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

“Well…” He pulled the plate closer to him again. “Possession is 9/10 of the law.”

She snorted. “Yes, well, I work with a lot of lawyers, and that’s bullshit. But I’m feeling magnanimous, so we can split it.”

He did that downturned lip thing again, which she realized now was a kind of smile, and nodded. “I think I could cope with that. But I draw the line at not knowing who I’m sharing with.”

She reached over with her hand. “Phryne Fisher.”

“Jack Robinson.”

“Well Jack… bon appétit.”

They both dug in with gusto, though one more than the other — Jack was in fact making some very evocative noises she didn’t think he even realized he was making. She hid a smile behind her fork.

“So… what do you do when you’re not being miserable at weddings?”

“For work or play?” he asked.

“Start with work and we’ll see how long the cake lasts.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough. I’m an Inspector with the Victoria Police Force.”

“Ah. Then you’re well aware that 9/10 of the law bit is bullshit.”

“I am but I wanted cake.”

Phryne laughed and took another bite. She was just about to ask what he did for play when he was engulfed from behind by a cloud of white.

“Jack! I’m so happy you’re here!” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then looked over, took in the two forks on the one plate, and positively beamed. “And with a date! Oh that’s wonderful. I couldn’t believe it when you said you’d be attending alone.”

Phryne looked between the bride and Jack and noticed that the tips of his ears were turning red. Poor man. He really was having quite a night. Phryne watched him, could see how much he didn’t want to lie, but a man has his pride and Phryne thought this man might have actually earned his. She reached over to shake hands with the bride and save him.

“Phryne Fisher. Lovely to meet you. The ceremony was beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you so much! And that dress is gorgeous. I hope you plan to show it off on the dance floor later.” She leaned in conspiratorially towards Phryne, though of course Jack could hear. “I was a little worried Jack would be spending all his time in the game room tonight.”

Jack perked up at that. “There’s a game room?”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Yes. Michael insisted on it. For his friends mostly.” She indicated a door towards the back of the ballroom. “I tell you, I love my husband, but he is a nerd. Seems I have a type.” She winked and Phryne laughed. “Speaking of my husband, I should go find him. Wonderful meeting you, Phryne. Remember - dance floor!”

At that, the bride moved off towards the dais, but Jack’s eyes turned towards the game room. Phryne took her last bite of cake — Jack’s was long gone — and pursed her lips.

“You know…” she said, drawing his attention back to her. “I always keep an emergency Cherry Ripe in my purse at these things. In case I don’t like the food.” He looked at her questioningly and she continued. “I could be persuaded to play you for for it.”

He smiled, a sort of lopsided thing she found oddly endearing, and gestured to the room. “You’re on.”

They spent the next hour and a half in there, playing Checkers, then Chess, then Battleship, and finally Connect 4.

The time flew, though, in good conversation and light-hearted ribbing and a growing and unusual ease neither was expecting. It went so fast, in fact, that Phryne was quite surprised when they heard the announcement for the last dance.

She looked at the door at the same time Jack did. He coughed. “Should we… only because Rosie seemed — ”

“Oh, yes. Yes of course. Lead the way.”

It was a slow song, of course, and at first Phryne felt a little awkward, though she didn’t know why; she danced with relative strangers all the time. But Jack held her so… it was an almost impossible combination of respectful and intimate and she found that she wanted more of it.

The song ended, but they didn’t part. Not right away. Not until the lights came up and then they did, quickly, like they’d been caught out.

Perhaps they had.

Jack gave her an embarrassed smile, then pointed questioningly towards the exit. He walked her back to the coat check, passing her assistant and that young man speaking very low and close in an alcove, then to the front door and out onto the sidewalk.

Jack cleared his throat. “Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’m fine. And I’ll be needing to go in to collect my assistant shortly anyway, though I doubt she’ll thank me for it.” She glanced up at Jack, a flirtatious look in her eye.

“Would you like my number?” she asked him. “Just in case you ever need a date to one of these things again?”

He gave her a wry smile. “Well I only have the one ex-wife.”

“I see.” Phryne was a little surprised she’d misread that one, but it happened. Pity, though… she would have liked to hear those cake noises in a different context.

Jack continued. “But I wouldn’t mind a battleship rematch. I’m fairly certain you were cheating at the end there.” She gave a little indignant huff and he laughed, then unlocked his mobile and handed it to her.

Phryne put in her number and handed it back to him, but as she did, Jack took her hand and kissed the back of it in goodbye. It was incredibly dorky and eminently adorable and Phryne laughed in delighted surprise at the move. He gave her a little self-deprecating smile (and when had she started cataloguing his smiles?) then started walking down the street. He was several yards away when she remembered.

“Oh! Don’t you want to collect?”

He stopped and turned around. “Collect what?”

“The candy bar. By my count, you won.”

He shook his head. “I don’t like Cherry Ripes.”

She crossed her arms and smirked at him. “Then why play?”

Jack grinned at her — really grinned, and she was definitely starting to catalog his smiles — and spread his arms wide on the sidewalk. “Phryne, I won the minute you decided to sit next to me. The rest was just… the icing on the stolen cake.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t stop her own grin from bursting forth. “That is a terrible pun!” she shouted after him, as he continued walking backwards down the sidewalk. “And I want my number back!”

“Can’t hear you!” he shouted back, still grinning.

Phryne narrowed her eyes, but her smile would not abate, which somewhat lessened the effect. It was hard to believe, standing on the sidewalk and feeling the way she felt now, that she had been so miserable just a few hours ago.

She really was looking forward to their rematch.

She was going to absolutely wallop him in Battleship.

| Short Fic Ask |

#mfmm fanfic drabble #mfmm fanfic #ask meme #modern au #phrack #i really do try to make these short... #i'm just bad at it

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Eight

Previous Chapter Here

Warning: Language. NSFW. Unprotected sex (be careful guys)

Notes: Apologies this is a little (a lot) longer than planned, but hope you enjoy it!

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chris knew this would more than likely be the last time he would see his friends for a while. The reshoots loomed ever closer, the knot in his stomach was getting tighter, and he was growing more and more unnerved at the prospect of what was lying ahead of him. He was determined to make the most of this night as much as he physically could.

He showered and made himself vaguely presentable, ignoring the navy Chanel sweater and trousers that had arrived earlier that morning and opting instead for a plain white tee and jeans. His favourite red belt made a special appearance. He began regretting his decision to allow his management team to redecorate his pad in order to make it “friendlier on the eye” as soon as he took stock of his open lounge. They’d shifted some of the furniture around, added some fresh flowers and balloons here and there, and taken down the photograph of a family trip to Disney that used to be hanging in the entrance hallway. There was also a distinctly sweet and fragrant smell of freesias wafting through the air. It smelled like Springtime and positivity. He hated it.

Just a few “unfiltered” photographs, they said. Nothing too intrusive of stressful. Now, however, they were looking to cover up the potential fall-out from his fling with Jenny after she’d helpfully announced the day before that she was starting divorce proceedings. Matt had taken to messaging him at half-hour intervals to remind him his house needed to be bustling with as many people as possible even if he didn’t know them all personally. He needed to look carefree, he was instructed, and unbothered by whatever may be going on in somebody else’s private life because it had nothing to do with him, right? Maybe flirt a little bit. Bring out the “big guns” and the Boston “bro” personality his fans loved to see. For God’s sake, just try to look as single as possible.

People weren’t due to start arriving until 7 but it didn’t stop Chris from drinking almost as soon as he had woken up, calling on Scott and a couple of his oldest pals to come and join him for some pre-party beers. 

“Woah.” said Gary, walking in closely behind Scott, carrying a crate of Budweiser. He rook one exaggerated sniff of the perfumed air surrounding him. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say we’d come to the wrong place!”

“Are we allowed to touch anything?” joked Scott, mocking him by tip-toeing in past the guys.

“Don’t ask. Just do whatever you like, please. I need it to at least feel like it’s still my home.” Chris scratched his head in disbelief. It looked more like something featured on the ‘gram of a would-be influencer than the home of a 30-something bachelor who had no time for soft furnishings and Feng Shui.

“Bro, it’s your birthday! You could at least look happy about it.”

Chris wasn’t drunk enough to muster much more than a half-smile at his brother at that point but figured a few more beers might encourage him to lighten up. He must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. He was about to follow the lads into his kitchen when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. If it was Matt bugging him one more time, he swore he’d throw the phone out of the window.

     Unknown 1.09pm

     Happy birthday sweetie. Can’t wait to see you again x

“Who’s that?” said Scott as he emerged from the kitchen, beer in hand.

Chris just shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea.”

Gradually as the hours passed by, a steady stream of people started making their presence known. Most parties Chris threw rarely went off as originally organised but he didn’t much care. It was always implied that his downtown apartment had an open-door policy when it came to friends and family turning up unannounced. Hell, many would stay for days at a time and he wouldn’t care. If he was holding a party or a game night, people could just show up whenever they felt like it even if Chris himself wasn’t awake or ready to greet them in person. 

The vibe soon started picking up and the music was louder now. Scott had made various playlists and was doing the duty of hosting people better than Chris, who had been glued to his phone on and off for most of the afternoon. More and more of his friends arrived with their partners and Chris would give them a bro-shake but pretty much leave them to it. It was...odd. He wasn’t sure what was going on but he was growing concerned that his brother wasn’t much enjoying his birthday celebrations. The table in the hallway was rife with gifts and cards, and the beer and alcohol levels were not in danger of diminishing any time soon. Chris had gone overboard on catered food but he himself had yet to touch anything. That was a danger sign, Scott thought. Last thing he needed was a drunk and melancholy actor on his hands this earlier in the evening. Thankfully, Chris perked up as soon as he saw his mom and Shanna arrive, and Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hello darling. Happy birthday!” Lisa called out to him and embraced him in a typical motherly hug, all stretched arms and smiles, running her hand under his chin as he pulled away. “How is everything?”

“Yeh, all good. Thanks mom. You look great!” Chris moved in to kiss her on the cheek again before pulling back to allow Scott his turn. “Wow, Shan, I really didn’t think you could make that shade of yellow look even more grotesque but you did it!”

When she was sure Lisa couldn’t see her, Shanna flipped him the bird. Chris feigned offense before wrapping his arm tightly around her shoulders and walking her towards the lounge. “Baby sis, you can’t be mean to me on my birthday.”

“Ugh...I really can’t handle you when I don’t have a drink in my hand.”

“Then let’s fix that!”

Chris shifted past a few friends, all greeting him and patting him on the back as he and his sister moved by. Several faces he didn’t recognise so Matt would be proud of him, he thought. “So, is Sarah travelling separate to you guys?” Chris asked, finally taking one of the wrapped boxed out of his mom’s hands.

“I think so. Do you want these in the fridge or in the pantry for later?” Lisa asked indicating the cupcakes she’d been asked to pick up on the way over.

“Um, just leave them there for now, it’s fine.”

Before he got a chance to speak to his mother again, it was too late. He watched as she was grabbed by Josh and his new girlfriend and started to make her way around her son’s oldest friends, greeting them all as though she hadn’t seen them in years. Shanna reappeared next to him, rifling through the bottles of vodka until she landed on her favourite. 

“Is Sarah not coming then?” Chris asked, more concerned this time than no one seemed to know exactly where she was.

“Not if you’re going to continue being a dick to her, she’s not.” Shanna turned around to Chris’s fridge and began perusing the selection of mixers. “Where’s the cranberry juice?”

“It’s inside the door.” He responded. Shanna couldn’t see for looking but finally located the carton of juice and poured a fraction of what she needed into the glass before topping it up with a very generous amount of vodka. “I was kind hoping to apologise to her in person actually. Is she still really upset? She hasn’t answered my texts.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well, you were out of like, Chris. But yes, she’ll be here, I’m sure. I think she just had something to do first.”

Chris knew Shanna was hiding something from him. She was a terrible liar.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He grabbed the glass from her hands. “I am not looking after you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’ll make sure she gets home safe.” Scott reappeared alongside them, merrier than before and holding a small plate of food for Chris. “Why don’t you ‘mingle’ mingle? Your audience awaits, kind Sir.”

Just as Chris was about to protest, his phone vibrated again in his pocket.

Unknown 9.22pm

I hope you’re having a great time tonight. The party looks amazing! Can’t wait to catch up with you properly x

*

At some point around 10pm, Chris escaped. He retreated to his little hideout behind a tree that gave him a clear view of his property without the pressure of being spotted by anyone inside. His phone had buzzed a couple more times and he was now sure if was Jenny reaching out to him. She’d been leaving little heart emojis on some photographs that had already appeared online. He felt a little sick and just needed to get away from the crowds, now tipsier than he was, annoyingly. He took the cigarette he’d bunged from a friend and lit it, savouring the feeling. In that moment was possibly the calmest he’d felt all day.

“Who are you hiding from, birthday boy?” Chris knew it would be Scott who would find him eventually.

Chris shrugged. “No one. Just needed the air.”

“Yeh right. Mom knows you smoke by the way. No point hiding it now.” Scott took the cigarette and took a slow drag before handing it back to him. “Zach hates me smoking inside.”

“Is that why you started running?” Chris smirked.

“Running’s healthy. It’s all about balance.” Scott observed his brother for a moment. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet all day. You’ve only had, what, three beers? That’s not like you.”

Chris shrugged unconvincingly, avoiding eye contact before his phone buzzed again. He quickly dove into his pocket to grab it but shifted uncomfortably when he saw who it was.

“Somebody’s keen.” Scott didn’t need to ask to know who it was. He could read his brother like a book. “Can’t believe she hasn’t got the message by now.” Scott continued to eye him, unsure of what was going through his head. “That’s not what’s got you down, is it? There’s nothing going on, is there?”

Chris glanced at his brother and shook his head. He knew he’d been caught out and at this point he was too tired to deny it. “I still haven’t heard from Sarah. I’ve tried apologising and it’s like she’s just ghosting me or something.”

“Stop being melodramatic. She lives with your sister. She’s not “ghosting” you, you dick.” His attempt to lighten the mood between them fell flat and he realised humour was going to be wasted on Chris this evening. “She’s got a lot on her plate right now, what with Charlotte and work and everything. Just give her a break, OK? It’s a tricky think she’s trying to navigate here.”

“I don’t know about that.” He shook his head slowly, crushing the cigarette under his shoe. “I said she was being ungrateful.”

Scott sighed. “Well, that’ll explain it. Hey, remember when Shan was a teenager and she got all those letters out of the blue?” Chris nodded at the distant memory. “I think the one thing we need to keep in mind here, with Sarah, is that she chose to reach back. She’s doing things her way and no one is forcing her. That’s gotta be a positive, right?”

*

Sarah felt like an idiot. She had no one to blame but herself. She couldn’t even lean on Shanna for support right now and she didn’t want to disturb Audrey at this hour if she was mid-celebration with Michael. She threw her coat on the stand and stood in the hallway of her apartment, bag swinging low. She kicked off her shoes and took off her tights to feel the coolness of the floor on the soles of her feet. It was a small comfort. The text message was still showing on her phone that was grasped in her hand as if she hadn’t been staring at it for the past three hours.

Charlotte 7.52pm

I’m so sorry. I thought I could do this. Please forgive me.

Sarah had decided to arrive at the venue a little earlier than they’d agreed to meet. She didn’t know what she was planning on doing by deciding that but she just knew she couldn’t sit around the flat any longer, her stomach was tied in knots. She hadn’t eaten much of anything that day but claimed she was saving herself for the extensive catering Chris would no doubt have laid on now that his guest list had multiplied.

She had spent some time getting ready with Shanna and Lisa but left her hair and make-up quite simple figuring she could add to it on the way to the party later on. She didn’t want to make an unfair first impression on Charlotte. She knew she didn’t want to look like she was a party girl but equally so, she didn’t want to appear to have given too much thought to what she was wearing to meet her in the first place. She wanted to remain as casual as possible which was some kind of weird irony given what was taking place.

She managed to make a relatively quiet exit as Lisa was helping zip up the back of Shanna’s jumpsuit telling them she’d be there as soon as she could. They didn’t ask her any questions. She just left and got into the cab that was waiting for her around the corner. A little under fifteen minutes later, she was outside the bar, trying to regulate her breathing. Maybe Charlotte was already inside? Maybe she had had the exact same thought and was having one for courage before they met? That thought made her laugh a little. She opened the door and gave her name to the rep who proceeded to show her to a nice booth in the far corner. Charlotte hadn’t arrived after all but Sarah had a clear eye on the door, as much good as it did her.

She poured herself another glass and wiped at the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t believe she had been reduced to crying over someone she had never met. She couldn’t believe she had allowed herself to assume everything would work out despite evidence to the contrary.

Everyone was right. She was a fool.

She heard the door go but couldn’t face seeing Shanna. She swiped at her face as much as she could, trying to remove any and all hints of her crying. Shanna told her once she was jealous of how she could cry without her skin getting all red and blotchy.

She clocked the time and realised it was perhaps a little too early for her to be coming home unless Scott had shoved her into a taxi, which wouldn’t have surprised her. Loud music and a free bar were Shan’s undoing. She composed herself and waiting for Shanna to appear in the doorway, worse for wear, but everything had gone silent. Sarah got up and walked out of the kitchen, not sure what to expect but certainly not expecting to find Chris stood with his back against the foot, keys dangling between his fingers. He seemed smaller somehow.

His expression briefly turned towards guilt when he noticed she had been crying. He made a move towards her before ultimately deciding against it, preferring to remain still in her hallway. He looked awkward which was a feat in itself for someone who always seemed so...cool, she thought. It didn’t last long, though, a steeliness soon returning to his eyes.

“Hey,” said Sarah diffusing the silence. She suddenly became hyper-aware she was in the Chanel dress he’d given her to wear for his birthday party, the party she should have been at hours ago but instead chose to blow off carelessly in favour of meeting somebody who really shouldn’t have mattered. Shit, she thought. She was a terrible friend. “I’m so sorry, Chris. I really don’t know wh-”

“-You know, I could have done with seeing you there, Sarah. It’s been a fucking terrible day, I’ve had my team hounding me over this Jenny bullshit and having my friends around me would have made all the difference.”

“I just,” she wasn’t sure where to go from here. He’d become so cold in the last few moments. She wasn’t really expecting it but knew she’d pushed her luck a little too much this evening. “I had something I needed to do first, and-”

“I don’t ask for much from my family but the one thing I do expect is that they turn up when they say they’re gonna turn up. You understand me? It’s my fuckin’ birthday after all and you couldn’t even manage that.” He moved past her, ignoring the tears now burning at the corners of her eyes.

“Alright Chris, you’ve made your point.” she whispered. The room felt too small and Chris looked like he’d grown a foot out of pure frustration. She just wanted to go to bed and forget this day ever happened or at least get Chris to leave so she could feel pathetic in peace.

She could detect a faint small of tobacco coming from his breath now he was standing closer to her. “What was so important that you couldn’t make it? Must have been amazing to blow us off like that and please don’t tell me it was Greg. I didn’t think you of all people would sack family off for some fuck you’re ambivalent about at best.”

She felt like a scolded child. Actually, no, it felt worse than that. It felt like he was picking at her, trying to get some kind of reaction out of her but what that reaction was, she didn’t know. She took a breath and calmed herself. Her hands were shaking. She was pretty sure he noticed now.

“It wasn’t like that,” she said, as calmly as possible. “I’ve said I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, OK? Your family and friends were there and I was planning on dropping by.” She pleaded, her tone striving to be a little more even. She figured if she tried reasoning with him instead of pushing back it might allow them both to get out of this unscathed but he just scoffed.

“Dropping by? Well, gee, thank you for making me an afterthought, Sarah. I really appreciate that.”

“It’s not just you that’s had a crap night, OK?” She shouted before reigning herself in. She really didn’t want to fall out with him on top of everything else. “We all have shit to deal with. At least people turned up to see you. They care about you. They didn’t just leave you hanging around, wondering what you’d done wrong.”

Chris looked confused. He signed and placed his hands on his hips, unsure of what his next move would be. “What’s going on?”

She could feel herself tearing up again, her face getting hotter by the second. She hated crying in front of people and it invariably gave her a headache, one she’d most likely fail to overcome before bedtime. “I arranged to meet her this evening. I didn’t want to say anything to anyone until I’d seen her at least once but, um, she didn’t show.”

For once, Chris didn’t have any answers. If he had been thoughtful instead of the selfish asshole he recognised himself to be, he would have known to have shut his goddamn mouth. “Fuck, Sarah. I...I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” He took another step closer to her but she made no effort to react towards him. “You don’t deserve this.”

Sarah audibly scoffed. “Well, that’s a maybe. But hey, look, happy birthday! Looks like you were right all along! I’ll make sure to wrap it next time.”

“If I’d have known what you’ve been through today, I would have shut my mouth. You’re one of my best friends and I was just thinking of myself, like always.” He leaned against the doorframe and Sarah recognised how pathetic they both looked in that second.

“What kind of person do you have to be to reject someone twice?” Sarah whispered to herself more than anything. She gently banged her head against the doorframe in thought. She wasn’t looking for a response.

Silence passed between them for what felt like hours. They were good at being quiet around each other, neither feeling the need to dispel energy and not caring what the other was doing but this didn’t feel like those times before. She glanced across the doorway at him but didn’t recognise what was looking back at her so intently. He looked like he’d been suspended in motion and if it wasn’t for her tapping her foot on the wall behind her, she would have thought she had, too. Everything just seemed a little fuzzy now and there was a headache threatening her from behind her eyes.

Before she could move again, Chris had crossed what little space there was between them and went for her, his hands grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It was messy at first, their lips slightly out of line with each other and she couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe. He’d taken the breath straight from her, it felt like. The only thing she could do in that moment was to grab back at his hands that were holding her face but she didn’t feel like pulling them away. Not just yet. For the first time, she had some power over what was happening to her. She was tired of being a good person, being vulnerable for others to use whenever they felt like.

She felt his lips slowly move across hers, calmer now, while she stayed almost still in his grasp. She felt one hand leave her face and reappear on her lower back and he pulled her in to bring her closer. They must have occupied less than a square foot of space stood like this. Everything was silent apart from what Sarah assumed was her heart beating or perhaps that was his? She couldn’t separate them at this point, a perfect fit soon only disturbed by the shrill buzz from someone’s phone in their nearby vicinity.

“Fuck!” Chris whisper-shouted pulling away from her, biting his bottom lip. Sarah scrabbled around to find her bag in the hallway before signing when she saw who it was. She took a breath so as not to give the game away.

“Shan? No, it’s fine, honestly.” Chris could only hear one side of the conversation as she spoke on the phone but could instantly tell from Sarah’s inability to get a sentence out that Shanna was drunk and giving her the third degree. He wanted to grab the phone and smash it against the wall. “No, it’s no problem. Don’t worry, OK? Yes. Yes, I’ll see you in a bit. Alright. Bye, lovely.”

Sarah had turned away from Chris at this point and looked down at the phone in front of her. She pursed her lips, embarrassed that she could still feel him on her. She thought she might have been imagining things but that was definitely his hand gently touching her on her hip where he’d held her just moments ago. She turned around to face him but one look into his blue eyes and she felt like she was going to collapse on the floor. She was pretty sure he could feel her shaking but he kept his grip on her, trying to work out what she was thinking. She just shook her head slowly and in confusion at what transpired and walked out of the kitchen, down the hall to the bathroom hoping to get some privacy and some cold water on her face.

She didn’t get very far. Chris followed her and grabbed her wrist, swinging her back towards him until she crashed against him again, unsteady on her feet. There was no time to think before his lips were on hers again, harder than they were before. He had his arms around her waist and started walking her backwards towards...something, she couldn’t register what. 

She briefly resisted his movements but after a few steps or so he made do with the wall next to her bedroom doorway. He pressed her hards against it, his hands now back cupping her face. She could feel how hard he had become with the way he pushed his crotch into her in an attempt to keep her still against him. She knew she didn’t want to break away again, she was tired of fighting and was ready to let it just wash over her. She grabbed at his sweater with both fists and moaned into his kiss.

She shoved him until he felt his back meet the opposite wall. The groan that left him was nothing short of filthy and something inside her snapped when she felt his hands fist in her hair while the other slipped down to grip her ass. She felt him pull up the hem of her dress, his fingers gently skimming the back of her thighs. He grabbed at her just underneath her ass and pulled her against him harder than before until they lost their balance and she ended up on top of him as he slid down the wall and hit the hard wood floor beneath them. They’d have bruises tomorrow but they didn’t care.

He desperately grabbed at the hem of her dress again, this time to feel her soft skin between her thighs. Her skin was so smooth and not to the touch, he couldn’t bear it. She felt like she was on fire. He managed to pull her panties to one side but she felt them rip as she furiously gripped at the belt on his trousers. He worked out pretty quickly what she was trying to do and took over for them both to release himself as quickly as possible. In one move he placed her where he wanted her. He heard her sharp intake of breath and looked up just in time to see the look of pleasure on her face as he entered her, perhaps harder than he had intended to but she didn’t seem to mind.

Her eyes closed. He could see the blush covering her skin and her neck and he reached out to pull her face back to him as he motioned for her to move on top of him. He filled her, thrusting into her as much as he could from this angle and briefly regretted not keeping them up against the wall. He knew it would be over in a matter of seconds at this rate. They were both struggling to feel something. Make something of this godawful day.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the way she was moving. He felt her wavering slightly as he quickly approached his own release, her eyes open now and looking down at him. Their staggered breaths were the only sound filling the space. He was so close and he knew she would be too but he couldn’t ignore the look of fear growing apparent on her face. The glazed look in his eyes felt like electricity coursing through her veins. She didn’t know it could feel as exciting as it did to be encouraged along by him like this, his hands firm on her hips, gliding her up and down, keeping him firmly inside her. She had to look away and she began to move faster, slightly out of rhythm now, scraping her knees against the floor on either side of him, pain that only served to heighten the pleasure.

She could feel him throbbing inside her as his legs began to shake and his breathing quickened. The sound of them both hitting the floor over and over again only served to push her on even more against her better judgement. It was too late to stop now. They would just have to deal with the consequences another time.

He tried to hold off from his own orgasm for as long as possible. He wanted more than anything to see her hit her peak as he held her hips tighter and moved her so she could take him harder. One of her hands pushed back against the wall behind him in order to find purchase and it was this move that ultimately caused them both to hit the point of no return.

He didn’t know who came first but it didn’t matter. After a few moments, their breathing started to even out, their skin showing that unmistakable sheen of sweat that only sex could give. Without thinking, he wrapped one arm around her waist and stroked the strands of hair out of her face. He wanted her to look at him as she continued to get her breathing under control but her eyes were too tightly shut. He look scuffed up from their actions and his pupils were blown wide open. She couldn’t even imagine the state she was in. If he could have found a little strength to speak in that moment, he would have told her she was more beautiful than he’d ever seen her look before. Perhaps wisely, he decided to save that for another time.

Oh fuck.

Sarah’s brain went into overdrive as she gradually came back to reality. Chris was trying to figure out what was going through her mind as he felt her slip off him and shuffle herself to the side, pulling the hem of her dress down in a rather redundant effort to protect her modesty. Her underwear was left wrapped around one ankle as she tried to move onto her knees to stand up. She wiped at her mouth with the side of her hand and in that moment, he thought she might start crying again.

“Fuck.” She rubbed her face with her hands. He didn’t think she meant for him to hear that. It was the last thing he thought he would hear her say. He made a grab for her hand but she avoided his grasp as she stood and, on shaky legs, walked back into the kitchen leaving him ruined on the floor against the wall, shaken in more ways than one.

She couldn’t register her surrounding. She felt like she was about to throw up. How could this have happened? How could she be so stupid?

She held herself as she contemplated all the things she would need to say to him to try and make this better. No words made sense in her mind and those that did, she could barely string together to form coherent sentences. She heard Chris enter the room behind her but he stopped just inside of the doorway seemingly as unable to speak as much as she was. This was bad, she thought. So fucking bad. She felt embarrassed when she eventually clocked his messed-up hair. He looked dazed by the whole thing. No doubt his back would be bearing the brunt of their heavy mistake.

she finally reached his eyes and was met with a shy smile and a look she didn’t quite recognise. Was it pity? Concern? Regret? All of the above most probably, she couldn’t quite tell.

“Sarah,” he whispered, swallowing. “I’m....” He took a couple of steps forwards, holding his hand out to reach her, offering what he thought would be some kind of solace.

“I think you need to get back to your party,” She said calmly, deflecting the situation, tears forming in her eyes.

“Sarah, please, I don’t want...”

“People are going to be wondered where you are, Chris. You should go.”

Chris tried to focus on her face in an attempt to find something there other than the shame she was failing to hide. He wished he could get to her but the space she was putting between them felt wider than the kitchen they were stuck in. Resigned, he bowed his head slowly and turned to leave half expecting, or possibly wanting, her to stop him.

*

#chris evans #chris fic #evans fic #sarah bernette #clear the area #chris evans x original female character

[nyxi-styx]

Comfort in Celebration

Fandom: Sanders Sides Ship: None (While this fic is not Thomas x Roman, it can be taken that way, I do not mind)  Words: 1209 Rating: E for Everyone Warnings: None Characters: character!Thomas Sanders, Roman Sanders, mentioned Virgil Sanders Tags: hurt/comfort, mild angst, coda for POF (sort of), Roman’s birthday, friendship and love A/N: Posting this a day late and it’s not perfect, but I wanted to get the idea out of my head. I know the title is garbage but I’m bad at coming up with titles. I’m sorry. Completely inspired by the photo Thomas posted for Roman’s birthday.

The pain had been searing, like a white hot blade directly through his heart. Roman couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried so much, sobbing and snotting his way through more than a dozen monogrammed handkerchiefs, nearly vomiting multiple times from the force of his wails. He’d turned to Virgil, but the anxious Side could only do so much. A broken heart was not so easily fixed. 

Thomas hadn’t heard Roman sing, hum, whisper a daydream to him, or crack a joke in a month and a half. He’d tried so many times to reach out, to apologize, to ignore it and just work with him, to touch, to hug, anything. Roman wouldn’t even look at him, wouldn’t even speak clearly. It hurt Thomas to see him like this, to think that he caused this. He was running out of ideas. 

May finally turned to June and Thomas was feeling pretty hopeless about repairing his relationship with the prince. He stared at the calendar. Roman’s birthday was approaching quickly. Well. One more try certainly couldn’t hurt. Thomas sent out a message to his friend, Aleks, knowing that it was a long shot that he’d have any time for a small photo shoot, but he lucked out and they set plans for June 4th. 

Supplies were ordered from Amazon, picked up from the supermarket, organized neatly and hidden away lest Roman appear and spoil his own surprise. That was unlikely, but Thomas still wasn’t taking any chances. He wanted everything to be perfect. There was no other option. He was desperate to earn Roman’s forgiveness, to restore their friendship. 

June 4th. Make it or break it. Thomas woke earlier than usual to get prepared. The filming space was temporarily transformed into a miniature, in-home photo studio. The apartment was filled with red, gold, and white balloons and streamers. A large red banner hung over the painting above the sofa that boasted: “Happy Birthday, Roman!” in fanciful gold script font. Thomas took the vanilla-iced red velvet cake from the refrigerator, letting it come up to temperature. It was pretty enough, but had obviously come from the supermarket. Thomas only hoped Roman wouldn’t mind; it wasn’t as spectacular as he deserved, but Thomas had to make due on short notice. He pushed a few little gold candles into the cake and left it to be lit later. Everything was ready. Now, Thomas just had to hope Roman would stick around long enough to see how much he was loved. 

“Hey, Aleks,” Thomas greeted warmly- even if it hid a touch of melancholy- as he opened the door to his friend, ushering the other man into his apartment and closing the door. He conversed with Aleks while the camera and equipment were set up and offered hospitality, but in the end, he supposed he was only prolonging the fear of rejection. He took a breath and closed his eyes. 

Roman. The call was clear. Thomas’ voice in his head still made his heart sting, but he promised always to come when Thomas called. Wiping his tear-flushed face, Roman took a steadying breath of his own and appeared. Because of his aversion to meeting Thomas’ eyes, he immediately saw all of the decorations adorning the apartment, the perfect banner, the camera, the photographer. He was almost speechless. Almost. He took in every little detail in awe, mouth open slightly. The prince finally met Thomas’ eyes for the first time in nearly two months. “You did all of this… for me?” 

“Of course, I did, Roman. You’re my hero.” The creative Side let out a shaky breath and put a hand over his mouth, holding back tears, these ones not caused by pain or grief for the first time in weeks, but by an overwhelming sense of love and happiness. “I thought you’d forget…” The words stung Thomas’ heart, but he should have expected that. “I’d never forget. I’d never forget any of you, but of course I’d never forget you, Roman. It’s your day. And… I want to make up for everything. I want you to have a good day.” Roman took another breath. “And I’m not even camera ready…” “Take your ti--” Before Thomas could even finish his sentence, Roman spun around and no longer looked like the picture of grief: the wrinkles gone from his clothes, his hair neat, his face no longer red, and his eyes no longer watery and puffy. He offered Thomas one of his charming smiles that Thomas couldn’t help but mirror. “There. Now I’m ready for my close up!” The prince struck a pose and raised an eyebrow and it warmed Thomas’ heart to see him back to his old self, even temporarily. Who knew he merely needed to cater to Roman’s vanity and stroke his ego? 

Thomas smiled at his Creativity and let Aleks get started on the photo shoot, using his Alexa to turn Roman’s playlist on as he stepped away into the kitchen. He lit the candles on Roman’s cake and carried it carefully out to him, singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him with a smile on his own face. 

Excitedly, Roman stood in front of Thomas; he closed his eyes and made a wish before blowing the candles out in one sweeping breath. He grinned brightly at Thomas and Thomas thought they might actually be okay.

“Oh. You know. That actually gives me a good idea,” Aleks input. “Can you cut a slice for a photo? With a candle. And… relight it, please?” Thomas nodded and left them again to return to the kitchen. He cut a large slice from the cake and put it on a small marble cutting board- much more aesthetically pleasing than a plate. He relit the candle and carried it to Aleks who created a makeshift table in their makeshift studio, draped with a velvet cloth and fairy lights. Roman is served the cake, some photos are taken and the candle is extinguished before the slice is set aside for later. Thomas mostly stays out of the way, happy to watch Roman enjoying himself. This is for him, after all. Not for Thomas. Well, maybe it’s a little bit selfish. Thomas has just missed Roman so much. And now, even while getting his pictures taken, the prince is finally singing again. Eventually, Aleks packed up his equipment and left and Thomas sat down at the regular table to have cake with Roman. He sighed. “I know it’s not perfect and only a quarter of what you deserve, but… I hope I was able to give you a good birthday celebration, even as small as it is. I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”    “Oh, Thomas. It’s all been absolutely wonderful. Thank you. From the very bottom of my heart, thank you. I’m… I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you with my grief. But today you made me feel… valued. And I appreciate that. Thank you.” Thomas, choking back emotions, reached across the table and touched Roman’s arm. “You are valued. Thank you for finally giving me a chance to show you that. I really missed you. Happy Birthday, Roman.” He smiled and it was immediately mirrored by the prince. They really were going to be okay.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #character!thomas #thomas sanders #roman's birthday #gen fanfic #birthday fic #hurt/comfort #mild angst #angst #hurt comfort #general fanfic

[explosionshark]

Amerikate + neon lights

this one’s really long but fuck it you’re my favorite person in the whole world i love you so much

22. Neon lights at 1.30am

As birthday bashes go, it’s not Kate’s most extravagant. 

Her dad rented out an entire banquet hall for her sweet sixteen — celebrity chef catering, half her school showing up along with a half dozen C-list celebrities. It feels absurd to think back on it, like something that had happened in another life, to another girl.

Thinking of her dad is something she does less and less these days, but she can’t help but glance at her phone, at the conspicuous lack of birthday messages from him. Susan had texted at least — sent a little gif of two kittens hugging (nice) and venmo’d her at least two months rent (nicer). 

“Hey,” America’s voice is uncharacteristically light, she bumps her shoulder into Kate’s to jolt her out of her own head. “No frowning allowed inside La Taqueria Fantastica. They’ve got a sign up and everything, you can get kicked out for that.”

She points at a printed 8” x 11” sheet of paper taped up on the wall over the salsa bar.

“That won’t work on me anymore,” Kate rolls her eyes, smiling anyway, which is annoying because America looks predictably smug about it. “I’ve been here long enough to learn to read at least a little bit of Spanish. That’s just this month’s menudo specials.”

America grins wolfishly and sprawls back into the corner of their side of the booth, legs falling open a little as she reaches lazily for the horchata they’ve been sharing. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” 

“I can’t believe this place is still open,” Kate says, glancing around the bustling restaurant, packed with taco-loving drunks despite the late hour, the fine drizzle of uncommon mist blanketing the streets outside.

“New York’s not the only city that never sleeps,” America teases, kicking Kate’s leg lightly with the side of her shoe.

The thought of home makes Kate’s heart ache, she can’t help it. The older she gets the more weirdly melancholy she feels on her birthdays — and it’s been harder out here, without her friends, without Clint, without the familiar sights and sounds of the city that had raised her. “Guess not, huh?”

America pauses, studies Kate’s face and sees something that evidently makes her frown and then she’s sitting up, leaning in with her arm over the back of the booth, the sleeve of her jacket brushing Kate’s bare shoulders. “What’s up? I didn’t drop in with your whole crew, take you out dancing for hours and then drag you to the best taqueria you’ve never heard of just to see you thinking this much on your birthday.”

“Me? Think? Since when?” Kate tries to deflect, pitifully unsuccessful judging from the exasperated eye roll it earns her from America.

“Okay,” America sighs dramatically and reaches over, grabbing the last half-eaten taco off Kate’s tray without asking. She shoves it in her mouth unceremoniously and urges Kate up out of the booth with insistent hands on her shoulder, guides her out of the restaurant with a hand on the small of Kate’s back, hot even through her clothes.

It’s colder outside, and damp, but it’s quieter and Kate finds her breath a little easier to take, her mind a little less cluttered for the space from the crowd. Trust America to know what she needed before Kate really put it together for herself.

“What’s up? Really,” America asks, the most serious she’s been all night, brows drawn low, a good superhero quality brood coming on.

God, Kate wishes her taste wasn’t so predictable.

“It’s just…”

America looks so good out here, bathed in the flashing red and green neon lights of the taqueria. Her hair is still mussed from all the dancing they’d done in the club, eyes hooded, lips pursed in that sulky little pout she gets when she’s trying to tell Kate something without using her words. She’s rarely this beseeching, usually preferring to tell Kate to get over herself or else distract her out of a funk.

It had been such a nice night, Kate feels kind of foolish for being this aimlessly despondent about it. America had portal’d into Kate’s apartment this morning with Billy, Teddy and David in tow and a cake on top of everything — even if it had those stupid joke candles that wouldn’t blow out. And they’d spent the whole day together, Kate showing her friends around all her favorite local haunts. They’d only split up after the club, the boys going home to get some rest while Kate took America up on her offer of a late night food run.

And yet, here Kate is, brooding in the rain on her birthday like some kind of… Clint.

She misses him suddenly, fiercely, wishes that their Skype call earlier had been longer, had been her and him on the couch in his apartment, Lucky between them and an episode of Dog Cops on TV in the background.

Had been what her life was a few years ago, basically, when everything made sense.

America’s hand is cupping her elbow, urging her hand gently away from where she’d been furiously kneading her temples. She’s a little shocked to find her eyes wet, decides to blame it on the late hour and the alcohol from earlier.

“Do you ever feel like… like you have a good life and you like what you’re doing for yourself and it should just be good, you know it is good, but it just feels like… nothing fits? Like you’re in the right place at the wrong time?”

America’s quiet for a long moment, unspeakably beautiful in the cast off light. She rolls her shoulders, pushes a restless hand through her thick, curly hair and sighs out into the night. “Yeah.”

And she has. Of course she has, because if there’s anyone Kate knows that would understand what it feels like not to fit anywhere it’d be America. The feeling rushes through America’s veins with every pump of her heart, keeps her kicking through dimensions, slipping in and out of Kate’s life like a sewing needle; piercing her and stitching her back together in turns.

It’s a moment of poignant realization of shared loneliness, of the terrifying amount of power America’s presence carries, of the kind of vulnerability they’d both usually do anything to avoid but feels inexplicably, intensely right tonight.

So, of course it’s ruined when an unspeakably loud, monstrously huge pickup truck drives by, idles at the red light across from them blasting the loudest reggaeton Kate’s ever heard in her life.

She cracks, collapsing forward into America’s arms. America who doesn’t even rock with Kate’s impact, steady and sure, just wraps her arms around Kate more tightly, dips her head to rest into Kate’s shoulder and laughs with her. 

She’s so tall, Kate always forgets until they’re touching like this. She’s warm and solid and she smells like sweat, and being pressed this close together reminds Kate of dancing with her earlier. America’s hands had been sinfully low on her hips then, not innocently framing her shoulder blades, the laugh she’d breathed into Kate’s ear on the dancefloor had been darker, the look in her eyes hungrier.

Though not by much, Kate thinks, pulling back to meet America’s gaze.

“You wanna talk about it more?” America offers, not loosening her grip on Kate in the slightest.

“Nah,” Kate shakes her head. America frowns and Kate amends, “Not right now, anyway.”

“Okay,” America nods. “You wanna go home?”

“Nope,” Kate says. She keeps her eyes locked on America’s, leans in a little closer. Licks her lips just to lay it on extra thick and is rewarded when America swallows, lets her hands slide lower, fingers drifting to the small of Kate’s back — definitely skirting the line of just friendly, now.

America shifts a little, darts her gaze away for a moment before returning it.

Kate waits. She’s not the most patient of her friends, not by a longshot, but she can outlast America, this much she’s sure of.

“Oh, fuck it,” America says, bare seconds later, proving Kate right again, and leans in. She presses a swift, firm kiss to Kate’s lips, no less full of intent for its brevity. “That?”

“Mmm, that,” Kate agrees and leans up to kiss her again, tangling her hands in America’s long, damp hair.

It’s good, as first kisses go. A little mellow, Kate chalks that up to the mood the night has taken, but she finds she likes it. It feels good to just lean in and kiss someone who already knows her this well, who already feels this comfortable. And then America’s tongue tentatively brushes her bottom lip and the air between them sparks. Kate gasps into America’s mouth a little, she can’t help it, and leans up on her toes and—- Christ.

“You okay?” America asks, voice gratifyingly rough, as she catches Kate’s weight against her body. “I mean, I know I’m good but I’ve never actually made a girl’s knees give out. Not from a kiss, anyway.”

“Oh, do not get that cocky with me yet, you definitely have not earned it,” Kate warns and then winces. “These heels are killing me.”

America leans back further, lets her gaze cast slowly down Kate’s body, past the edge of her skirt, down her legs to the monster heels she’d worn out because they make her calves look insane. “Yeah, ouch.”

“If only there was someone nearby who could, y’know, save me. Someone with… uncommon strength. And perhaps an ability to get between places quickly. A superhero, even.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Well, it is my birthday.”

America heaves a put upon sigh, but she leans down, scooping Kate up into a bridal style carry so sudden it sends her squealing, just for a moment. “You really are a princess, Princess.”

“Less than you’d think, actually,” Kate says, wrapping her arms around America’s neck and leaning up to whisper, low. “Take me home and get me out of these things and I’ll show you.”

The stomach-dropping feeling of falling through one of America’s portals is worth it for that stunned, eager look on her face.

#kate bishop #america chavez #amerikate #young avengers #hawkeye #prompt fills #explosionfic #long post #I LOVE U SO MUCH STEPH!!!!!!!!!! #i hope you like this #this one's dedicated to all the 24hr taquerias that have been in my life #sirtrevelyan

[corvid-lullaby]

TLDR: I RP Nishiki both from 0, K1, and past that for AUs. I RP him canonically but I primarily base him off of a fanfic (SecT) I’m working on, of which he lives and where the events of K1 causes him to have what is outwardly believed to be Dissociative Personality Disorder (AKA Multiple Personalities.) One is of his former 0 self (Referred to as Nishiki) and the other is his K1 self (Referred to as Shikiya (Derived from Nishikiyama)).

However, Shiki isn’t just another facet to Nishiki, but ends up being a fully realized entity with his own thought process, opinions, etc. He even converses with Nishiki and interacts with him within the mind. Typically cold and standoffish, but how foul he can be highly depends on ‘when’ a post takes place. He’s at his worst during the events of K1, less terrible but nervous and beginning to be understanding post K1, and eventually very protective in a tsundere sense as the two continue to recover. Since the beginning, he has been in love with Nishiki, but it started out in an extremely toxic way. This has also improved over time.

For threads, I very much prefer it if you tell me your preference on what version of Nishiki you’d like. Be it 0’s, K1’s, my split personality SecT version, or something else. I’m very flexible and willing to cater towards your preferences.

To make things easier, the two will sometimes be colour coded. Generally, purple is for Nishiki, red is for Shiki, and pink/maroon is for both.

This Bio will cater towards my fanfic/AU Sect, and will have hints of FFXIV in it.

Nishiki (Akira, Koi)

Shikiya (Shiki, Crow)

Basics

Represented with purple

Birthday: October 8

Species: Human/Hyur

Race: Japanese/Doman

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Pansexual, switch

Romantic Status: Polyamorous

Scent: Sweet potpourri with hints of something kin to rain as well as a higher quality cigarette scent.

Personality: Typically energetic, easy going, and friendly. He can become bubbly and peppy around friends or if it fits the situation’s mood. Flamboyant to no end, yet sensitive. Beware for he is completely capable of embarrassing himself or a friend for the sake of being a complete dork. He also enjoys teasing Shikiya from to to time. May or may not be easy to cry.

Represented with red

Age: ? (5 ½ If you want to age him by years he has ‘existed’)Birthday: Unknown. Sometime in the fall.

Species: None/Unknown

Gender: None due to only being a mental entity, but prefers 'him, ect.’ To him, gender is nothing more than an aesthetic.

Sexuality: Pansexual, dominant

Romantic Status: Polyamorous

Scent: General floral with a note of mint and occasionally a nice higher quality cigarette scent.

Personality: Relatively cold and quiet. He’s very poor at regular conversation where awkward silences can be common. Awkward for you, not him. He couldn’t care otherwise. On the other hand, he’s very adept at being a leader and in battle. It’s these times where he shines the most. If a fight gets violent enough, it could bring out his bloodthirsty side where he loses himself in the enjoyment of a difficult kill.

He hasn’t been 'alive’ for very long. Only 5 ½ to 6 years. This can sometimes show through by ways of his random curiosity on even the most mundane of subjects, as well as being extremely gullible on anything he knows little to nothing about. This isn’t to be confused with being stupid, which he very much isn’t. Although his lack of personal experience can cause him to come off a bit innocent at times.

Yes, he can use Nishiki’s mind and memories as a filing cabinet for knowledge, but he has to seek and learn it himself. He doesn’t automatically know everything Nishiki does. On top of that there are things in life where experiencing it for yourself is entirely different from simply knowing and understanding it.

As with being a 6 year old in an adult body, he can be quite the greedy little brat and be completely ignorant to a lot of stuff around him. Such as the feelings of others.

Physical

Voice: Commonly chipper and energetic. His vocal range for normal speaking can be highly varied and playful due to his flamboyant nature. Vocal example.

Height: 5'11

Build: Swimmer’s but not overly built, and an extra emphasis on the stomach due to high mono fin usage.

Common Clothing: He can typically be found in a clean maroon suit with a black silk undershirt swimming with loud golden print. He enjoys dressing up so he can be found in other clothing. There’s also a high enjoyment in traditional Japanese wear, but he usually only wears this either privately at home or on special occasions.

Distinguishing Attributes: Koi irezumi (tattoo) on the back. Burn scars on the front and side of the right half of his stomach. Since Shikiya came to be, he began exhibiting a faint amber glow to his irises under dimmer lighting. This only shows if Shikiya is currently aware and present to the current situation, regardless if he’s the one speaking/in control or not. He also has a belly button piercing.

Weapons: Carries a gun but prefers hand to hand.

Fighting Styles: Does well with a gun and close range weaponless combat, although not as good as Shikiya. Preferably he’d rather fight with his fists. While his sworn brother, Kiryu, is extremely strong, Nishiki tends to be quicker and more light footed than he, but not nearly as strong. Even though Shikiya is skilled with the sword, Nishiki is a complete klutz with it. He’s far more likely to stab his own foot. Still, he does enjoy Iaido at home… even if he’s bad at that too.

Voice: Still Nishiki’s natural voice physically but sounds notably lower, calmer, and cold. Within Nishiki’s mind, it can sound severely or slightly altered in various ways. Be it higher, lower, masculinized, or feminized, or some inhuman alteration. At times it even sounds like he has multiple vocals going at once. An example can be found here at 3:40. Warning: the end of the video has implied suicide. Again this is not his physical voice that everyone else hears, but how Nishiki perceives his voice in his mind sometimes.

Common Clothing: Often professionally dressed. Usually in mostly white with black accents. Occasionally can be found in all black (even the tabi) traditional Japanese/Doman clothing which could include a hakkuma, waraji, and ornamental fabric around the neck.

Distinguishing Attributes: Outwardly it still is Nishiki’s body, but with minor differences due to Shikiya being an entirely different entity. There is a faint amber glow to the irises that is visible under dimmer lighting. He often looks either irritated or melancholy in comparison. Also has a smooth and calculated gait. He hates having his hair in his face, so it’s often put back in some way.

Weapons: Besides a gun, can sometimes be found with a katana.

Fighting Styles: He’s far more skilled at the gun and close range weaponless fighting than Nishiki. He’s also skilled with the katana, primarily with Iaijutsu. He is also fond of Iaido, but this is used more for self balancing and self discipline training rather than fighting.

Personal

Professions: Cabaret Host, mermaider, and aquatic caretaker at a cabaret, hitman, mercenary, former yakuza patriarch (still helps advising and running his Family although no longer officially a part of it)

Disabilities: PTSD (Fiercely covers this up), “dissociative personality disorder”, schizophrenia, chronic klutz

Hobbies: Aquatic biology, eating, swimming, still eating, various arts and crafts, also never stops eating. No, we don’t know where it goes.

Fears: Abandonment, sedatephobia (Fear of silence), autophobia (Fear of being alone, although Shiki’s presence cures this, for better or for worse)

Quirks: Says “koi” in playful situations with various meanings depending on context. For example, hell say “Koi koi!” while giving someone an overly loving hug. In this case he could mean ‘love love.’ Another would be him saying this while beckoning someone with a finger. In this case it could be ‘come come.’

Habits: Flirtatious at times without realizing it. Sometimes he’ll go into a severely reclusive state when his mind starts going into darker places. If it gets bad enough, he can fall into varying states of psychosis.

Professions: Hitman, mercenary. Although Nishiki has officially retired from being a Patriarch and is no longer a part of the Nishikiyama Family, the Family still respects him as if he is still the Patriarch. The higher positioned people know of Nishiki’s split personality and especially treats Shikiya with respect. Shikiya still occasionally returns to the Family office when needed or to take up stray jobs.

Disabilities: None

Hobbies: Yakuza odds and ends, Chess, Iaido

Fears: Ceasing to exist, disappearing, being locked away mentally

Quirks: Finds having longer nails being more comfortable

Habits: Rubs the back of his neck when sleepy and/or when overly comfortable, seems to have poor restraint or realization on impulses (ie can drag his nails too roughly to the point of being painful when he means to simply pet, or fingers can give gestures of wanting to wrap around a neck to strangle but is obviously restraining himself)

Traits

*Bold is typically. Italics is situational.*

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open-Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Laid-back / In Between / Hyperactive

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional/ In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

*Bold is typically. Italics is situational.*

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open-Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Laid-back / In Between / Hyperactive

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Background Summary

**Contains major Yakuza spoilers for 0 and 1/K1** **Based on AU Fanfic SecT**

Can be found here.

RP Hooks

Dirty Jobs: Given that Shikiya highly enjoys challenges, fighting, the thrill of the kill, and because Nishiki retired from a position that fulfilled those cravings, he’s pretty willing to take on the more dangerous tasks. He has a lot of skills and experience under his belt due to being an ex-Patriarch to his own Family. He also has a lot of resources with that Family since they still highly respect him. Sometimes Nishiki can be found doing this too, but it’s typically due to Shikiya picking up a job and dumping the job on him. It’s usually out of a negative sort of amusement.

Subordinates/Nishikiyama Family: Both Nishiki and Shikiya offer hirings into their Yakuza Family. The Family is ultimately very strict and harsh, especially towards newcomers with their heads in their asses, but actually have a tight bond with one another. It’s easy to tell when their strict and harsh behavior is out of care or not. For Shikiya in particular, he does look for those that would qualify as good right hand members for himself. Needless to say, anyone attempting this sort of position will be put through the ringer, as Shikiya is anything but soft and kind.

Cabaret Host: Nishiki’s primary job is both a host and for aquatic maintenance at an aquatic/mermaid themed mixed gender cabaret club. The club itself does traditional hosts/hostesses but also has a section for their mermaiding. Just as Shikiya gets a kick out of sometimes dumping his jobs onto Nishiki, Nishiki also does the same by 'shoving’ Shikiya out sometimes while working, although rarely. He sometimes goes on paid dates with trusted customers, but will absolutely refuse going down any sexual routes.

General Buddy: Nishiki is pretty friendly and energetic, but is also the type to easily get lonely. He’s always willing to hang out for the sake of hanging out. This includes anything simple, such as going out for a drink or karaoke. Shikiya, on the other hand, is too cold and awkward for this sort of thing. He’s better suited as a companion on the field of battle.

Aquatic Biologist: It isn’t a profession of his, but rather a hobby gone out of control. He knows more about freshwater over marine, but he’s always willing to offer advice or help in regards to this.

#at gun point• #nishiki• #shikiya• #bio

[littlemissrainhoe]

with this soul that once believed it all was meaningless, i won't stop

For @tododeku-week! Day 1: Determination. This is the first time I’m participating in a ship week. (I was this close to writing an Endgame AU, but then I realized I didn’t want to hurt myself.) I made a weird Spy AU where UA is some sort of spy agency lol. I hope I did okay!

You can also see this on AO3. ^_^

-

"Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart." ― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

-

The door creaks as it opens, revealing a broad figure and the glint of eye wear. Even still, the figure on the couch doesn’t move from where they sit.

Tenya enters the room, quietly closing the door behind him, his footsteps rather incongruous to his large frame. He stops a few feet away from the man on the couch. Though he has not given any response to his entrance, Tenya knows he is fully aware of his presence.

These days, even the lightest wind can wake them up.

“Midoriya-kun,” Tenya calls.

Midoriya doesn’t move from his position, his front facing the fireplace burning before him. After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “Did you know we were thinking about adopting a kid?”

Tenya did not know. At the time, he was with Uraraka, tailing a suspected traitor in China. He hadn’t heard from Midoriya for weeks, but that was par for the course; it was unprofessional to let personal life get in the way of a mission, and Midoriya stood by that as well. But part of him still thinks what if? What if he brought his phone with him? What if he let Asui take the traitor case with Uraraka instead? What if he was here back then?

Would that have changed things?

Midoriya’s voice is low, perhaps even mellow to the ignorant. But Tenya knows Midoriya Izuku, and he is a man who is always dynamic, always fearless—the man who is known to smile at the face of danger.

But this man, who sits alone in this empty home, staring into a burning hearth but feeling no warmth—this is Midoriya Izuku nowadays: solemn, melancholy, closed-off. Hurting.

Tenya can only feel his heart break all over again for his friend.

He met Midoriya on his first day at UA, as is the same with all of his friends. They are a tight-knit group, an anomaly among other classes. After all, it is the height of folly to trust people who are currently training to become spies. UA may be known by the inner circle as the most reputed of all government spy agencies, but even then they are an agency built—quite literally—on lies.

Perhaps, in a different world, that would have been their reality, where the closest relationship they could have with each other consists of wary respect and a hidden revolver. But when hordes of criminals try to kill you and your fellow trainees only a few days in the academy in an attempt to bring attention to their secret society, spies in training they may be, they couldn’t help but bond over their near-death experience when they have no one else to turn to.

Even then, Midoriya was a beacon, pure even in the face of deceit, loyal even to the detriment of himself. Many times, Tenya has heard people call him foolish; that his weak heart would only get himself killed. But his very earnestness is his weapon—his analytical mind sharp in this game of truth and lies.

Tenya remembers asking the same question in the middle of the night, back when he found Midoriya Izuku to be an utter mystery. There, in the quiet of the infirmary room where Midoriya laid to rest after a mission gone wrong, Tenya felt the words of reproach burst from his lips. After all, Midoriya just took a knife in his place—a wound that should have been Tenya’s after his rash decision to confront his brother’s killer.

“If I didn’t trust anyone,” he said, his eyes shining in the dark—not blinded by naiveté like Tenya thought, but filled with determination, belief and hope. “If I couldn’t bring myself to trust the people who I’m around on a daily basis, what kind of life would I be leading then? If I couldn’t help the people I’m with, how can I help the strangers who need it?”

That day, Tenya learned the value of trust from the man he now calls his closest friend, a brother he never would have found had he been too stubborn. Time and again, Midoriya has saved Tenya, be it from danger or even Tenya himself. He has taught him how to live, how to love—how to always choose the path of righteousness.

Now, he has a chance to repay his friend, even if just a little bit. For once, he will be his friend’s guiding light.

So Tenya steels himself and gives Midoriya his news.

“We found Shouto.” 

Sometimes at night, when he lies in bed waiting for sleep to come, Izuku can almost feel Shouto’s body next to him.

“Izuku,” he would whisper softly, looking at him with a tiny smile on his handsome face as if he was sharing a particularly treasured secret. Shouto always preferred to sleep facing him. In one drunken episode, where everything was raw and vulnerable and real, he said that it was to make sure Izuku was still beside him.

He wonders if Shouto still seeks his warmth the way Izuku does for Shouto’s.

It’s been a month of silence. A month since Izuku last saw his husband, walking out the door for a quick grocery run in a rare day off for the two of them; a month since Shouto was taken from him.

Most people would have already given up, choosing to close the book and bury it along with the body that’s not there. After all, in their line of work, not everyone gets to retire voluntarily.

But Izuku isn’t most people. Even if the world is to crumble—right here, right now—Izuku would still find a way to believe that the sun will rise again. Not because of misplaced ignorance or forced conviction, but because there is always hope to be found even in the most desolate places.

Izuku has learned from a very young age, back when he was just a tiny, sickly kid with too big dreams, to never give up hope. Even when the world spat on his dreams and called him worthless, he never stopped believing.

These days, Izuku can only thank his lucky stars for his stubborn streak, even if the weight of his past will always and forever be a stark reminder of how cruel and miserable the world can be. If he gave up hope, he would never have gotten where he is right now. He would have lived his life in regret, thinking of what-could-have-beens and what-ifs. He would never have made connections with these people so close to his heart. He would never have met the love of his life.

But sometimes, even Izuku gets tired. He would never give up hope, because Shouto doesn’t deserve that. But sometimes he just wants to lay down and remember—the way Shouto doesn’t put sugar or milk in his coffee, the way his skin feels under the moonlight, the way he wakes up with his hair somehow more unruly than Izuku’s chaotic curls. In those moments especially, Izuku would yearn for his husband; he would long for the missing part of his heart.

Then, in the wake of his memories of better days, Izuku will find the strength to keep going, to keep searching for his husband.

And now it has finally borne fruit.

Dressed for war in a black and white ensemble, Izuku perfectly recreates the image of a waiter. Plain, simple and easy to overlook. Tonight, he dons the face of Ito Kiriya, a college student moonlighting as a waiter for a catering service. Gone are his trademark green hair and eyes; now replaced with black and dark brown. His freckles has been erased with makeup, nothing too heavy that it will draw unnecessary attention. Izuku is no longer a respectable spy, but an exhausted kid who is thinking about upcoming deadlines.

For a moment, Izuku closes his eyes and remembers to hope. Whatever happens tonight, he will never give up hope. He will never give up on Shouto.

Iida steps beside him, clad in an elegant black suit and without his glasses. His role is an assistant who was forced to accompany his boss in the hopes that she won’t get too drunk in front of important associates. After all, the stakes are high here.

“This will work, Midoriya,” Iida says, shoulders straight and firm in his belief. “We will take him back.”

He can only nod, his mind as clear as it’s always been on the job. He knows they have back-up, their friends either infiltrating the party as well or waiting in the sidelines for support. This is not an agency-sanctioned mission, but he knows full well that they have the agency’s full support.

Izuku clenches his fist. It’s now or never.

It’s time to infiltrate the Todoroki estate and bring Shouto home.

#tododekuweek #bnha #tododeku #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #iida tenya #bnha spy au #lol #let's see if something comes out of this au #rain writes

[kontextmaschine]

am i imagining it or is there a bit less anger towards the left from you about the death of 90s Culture recently? Not that you’re not still melancholy about it, but it seems like in recent months you’ve moved from “Horny 90s Secular Culture was my rightful birthright that was DESTROYED by Gawkerites” to “Horny 90s Secular Culture is worth mourning but it collapsed under its own contradictions that have only become visible in the wake of a lot of Internet Feminist Discourse.”

>  [same “less anger toward the left” anon] Even more speculatively, it seems like you’re less sympathetic toward the Right than you were, set, a year or so ago, less in the sense that you now back the actual agenda of the Left than that you briefly expected that the Right’s pushback would take a form more compatible with your own preferences than it has. Any of this onto something? [2/2]

You’re seeing something real but you’re not seeing it right.

If I’m more sanguine about the culture wars lately it’s because the wave already broke. In 2015 I was saying the other side walked off a cliff and just hadn’t looked down yet, well by now they’ve looked down.

And on the one hand meep meep, motherfucker, on the other hand this means the dumbest and gone-too-far stuff is gonna be coming in the other direction now as the backlash sets in.

Like, what’s the last time the cultural “left” tried to sieze new territory, and not just struggle to hold the line? MeToo? At the time I called it as feminism biting the hand that fed/off more than it could chew, and yeah, by all reports the “targets” there are being welcomed back and people notice that they were still viable all along, meanwhile the supporters are getting blackballed as risks.

(Meanwhile, the Republican supremes are expected to rule that no, protections against sex discrimination do not just imply protections for sexual/gender minorities, and wouldn’t you know it most “sexual harassment” law is leveraged out from similar implications.)

The next step in the culture war is just to make people realize this is already happening, the woke order’s plummeting, and all the stuff that’s been growing underground poised to benefit from their fall is going the other way.

I point out Stupidpol stuff to draw attention to how the new young avant garde in pretty much every subculture - even explicitly leftist ones - is increasingly anti-woke, and the invention of a typology - “radlib”, “wokescold” – by which their rivals don’t even have to be refuted, just identified, mocked, and dismissed.

I point out how all the woke take factories are exhausting their funders’ patience, pivoting to video and selling out to Bryan Goldberg (who made his name by founding a women’s vertical that wasn’t shrill feminist, an online Cosmo when everyone was trying to build an online Sassy), and how meanwhile the hot rising thing is a bro site with an editorial line somewhere between rape culture-tolerant and -positive.

I point out how not so much opposed but underneath consent culture there’s a flourishing ecosystem of Fsub kink as lifestyle (which was the other side in the ‘80s feminist sex wars, after all) and the rising smartphone generation grew up with “catering to the male pornographic gaze” as a popular hobby.

And I’m not just wishcasting here, even the perceptive people on the “other side” have noticed this – Sady Doyle’s looking back over ’00-’10s internet feminism and wondering if it even changed anything deeper than superficial fashion that will cycle back before too long (subtext here is she was a half-step behind the Marcotte/Valenti/McEwan coterie and tbh a better writer/thinker/intersectionalist but now she’s in upstate New York scrambling for enough child care to crank out work for lower-and-lower-profile outlets; if you’ve read her work long enough you know she’s acutely aware of how in the 80s second-wave feminism and radical feminists weren’t so much defeated as just… gave up on and left to wither.)

Like, “this too shall pass”, y’know? It’s passing. Which doesn’t mean the stuff that takes it down or replaces it won’t be dumb and fucked up. To the extent I had identified with the “cultural left” to begin with it was cause I came of age in the 90s after the ‘80s backlash had run through and the reigning “cultural right” was pretty dumb and fucked up. Weirdly sour in a sunny time, in retrospect I realize they were trying to drive a stake through the ‘70s so hard it never got up again and that excess probably did buy me some more time of comfort, but could get counterproductive too, you know if these are the guys trying to maintain their hegemony through suppressing left voices…

Plus honestly yeah I was invested in the fun-for-all ideal of Horny 90s Secular Culture as it portrayed itself, and if more modern revelations are that it was premised on hierarchies of power… Well, at some level I’m “ohhh, hierarchies of power, so THAT’S how you create the good times, they should’ve told us, no wonder we’ve been fucking it up”. But I’m still eagerly receptive to plans to bring things closer to the ideal, or at least avoid some of the worst failure modes and rig the hierarchies right by going in eyes-open.

#culture war #it's media #2018 #same as it ever was #this too shall pass

[kennysatyr]

Rise Of The Damsel: Part 2

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of absent parents, transitioning, blood, insufficiant medical procedures, and death.

(Author Note: Sorry I haven't had a consistant posting schudeule I've been going through some things but for some reason finsihed this hope you enjoy it please like and share when you get the chance.If you want to join my crew just send me a message)

06/13/1999 10:56 AM She woke up in an unfamiliar place she had no clue where she was she remembered what the goddess made her do suddenly “Oh good you are awake” an androgynous person stood at the door they looked slightly older, red tattoo’s on their face, she is missing an eye yet her eyelid was sewn shut, no hair is wearing a blue kimono they walked slowly towards her “I came to retrieve you for meeting with the general” she was confused “Is this the-” “Yes it is dear Osirus told us you were coming, of course, we had to get the goddess out of you we let you rest” Khadijah got up walked towards the person then saw a mirror she was shocked by what she saw her old body wasn’t seen she saw a woman’s body instead of a man’s she had breast and female genitalia she started to tear up the woman behind her started walking up to her, “Osirus told us you desired a female’s body so while you were asleep we made you one” Khadijah looked at her and said, “Do you know how long I have dreamed about having this body?” “Are you pleased with it” “I very much am” tears started streaming down her face happy ones. 11:15 AM Khadijah and the person walked into a tent candle were lit a desk was surrounded by other people they were obviously debating with each other one noticed them “Our warrior is here” they all looked at them “Amaterasu bring her closer” they both walked closer to the table the people parted to let them through Khadijah looked around to see it was mostly women and androgenous people most missing eyes, hands and other parts covered in scars “Welcome Khadijah” she looked it was an older woman with a gold crown greying brown hair wrinkles visible on her face “You are at the lotus army headquarters I am the leader Hera” Khadijah immediately tried to bow Hera smiled “No need for that child let me introduce you” Hera pointed at the woman next to her “Amaterasu is the main leader of defense here” she pointed to a woman east of her this woman had lavender skin and dark hair “That is Artemis my left-hand woman her voice was taken during the war so she speaks in sign language” Artemis signed “Hello newcomer” Hera pointed to a caramel skinned woman with one eye scars covering her body “That is Sekhmet the goddess who possesed and brought you here” the woman nodded “Everyone else here is a soilder the empty seats are to preserve the memory of those lost” Khadijah didn’t know what to say “I know it is a lot to take in do you have any questions?” “No not at the moment” “Good now come with me and we shall discuss your duties here” she goes to open a curtain entrance and gestures for her to come in Khadijah obeyed Hera looked at the other goddesses “You are all dismissed” she closes the curtain. The room was like the previous ones just with more pictures on the walls and incense burning a desk lies in the middle of the room with a lotus flower engraved Hera sits down behind it and says “Sit down dear” she complied once again she put her hands on the table twiddling her thumbs she was nervous she didn’t know what she’d say to a goddess Hera has a stack of papers most were blueprints on her desk and looks at her “So are you enjoying the new body?” “Yes but ho-” “Most of us have experience in medical things and magic so it really wasn’t too hard and we like to cater to our soldier’s needs here” she put her hand on Khadijah’s and rubbed her thumb against her hand in a comforting way “now there is a reason I wanted to talk to you privately” “To tell me what my role is here?” “That and well I must ask a private question” She felt a chill go down her spine “How close were you to your mother?” she thought about that question she hasn’t been asked that question in years when she was young she used to be teased about it calling her “unwanted” and that her mom hated her and that’s why she left and she answered “Well I am not sure, to be honest, I never really knew her I only know pictures and stories of her from my father who tears up even thinking of her” the mood became melancholy “well I can tell you, me and her were close” she felt a small glimmer of hope, yet inquisitive “You saw how I had a chair beside me empty?” she nodded “Well that spot was for your mother” “Was she a mortal?” “Absolutely not,” she said firmly Khadijah looked down at her hands they somehow seemed different now “Now would you like the full extent?” she questioned herself, but so far the answer yes helped her “Yes” Hera breathed in and out “Well we do not know if she is dead or alive she dropped off the grid a while ago no oracles can find her, after the battle against the god Tezcatlipoca she disappeared” “How long ago was this?” “Four-teen years ago” she was shocked this was how long it’d been since she left her and her father how long it has been since she had felt a motherly touch she clenched her fist “What was her name?” “Morrigan she was the goddess of death, crows, war, and fate” “Didn’t death gods not be involved?” “Morrigan was a... Different kind and she wouldn’t stand for the inequality which made her perfect as my right hand” Khadijah was silent she thought about this she thought of her last memory with her mother her father begged her not to leave and her mother gave her one last kiss on her Khadijahs forehead before she left their lives forever “I’m sorry if this opened up a wound for you” Khadijah noticed that thinking about that made a tear fall down her face “It’s alright I shouldn’t have repressed this” “However she could be alive out there and you could meet her” “That is true” “Would you like me to change the subject?” “Yes please” Hera nodded her head let go of Khadijah’s hand “You first will be trained here to fight” “You are assuming I cannot now?” “Well if you can we will make you better then you were before we would make you indestructible” she was intrigued “Now you will be training with the war goddesses we have to offer and if you’d like we can also teach you magic and the secrets of it” “I can do without magic” “Alright then now any questions?” “Well one” Hera raised a brow Khadijah continued “Would I be able to go home?” “Well you’d have to stay till your training is done, mostly because of where the gods found you and we need to be cautious” Khadijah nodded “However we will have you stay in a tent here at the camp and I’ll have you have a visit with our doctor Dembe because we want to be sure what we will need to do to make you the best” she then slides a picture of a map of the camp and it was honestly bigger then she thought it’d be “Now I enjoyed this talk, Khadijah, but after you go home please promise one thing?” Khad looked at her “You’ll always keep contact with us” “I will,” she said in an affirmative way. 11:50 AM She had finally found her way to the medicine tent instead of a regular curtain it was beaded she pushed them inside she saw bones possibly human incense lit a bottle of rum a shelf full of bottles all of the different colors, a cauldron in the middle of the room “Lost?” she turns around she is now facing a woman a beautiful one her skin was dark but had light skin pigments that make her face look like she was wearing a skull piercing blue eyes “N-no” “You must be the new recruit” her voice was heavily accented yet sounded heavenly to Khadijah “Yes, I am are you Dembe?” “Yes, and why are you standing around? Come in” she grabbed Khad’s arm and almost dragged her to a chair on the side of the room and sat her down and immediately started putting her hands on her face, her hands were cold Khadijah blushed “Why are you, nervous child?” “S-Sorry I-i do not use to seeing” the woman raised her eyebrow “Seeing what?” Khadijah nervously “S-someone as beautiful as you” the woman smiled a bit and started to open Khadijah’s eyes “If I wasn’t doing a check-up I would’ve been more flattered” then opened her mouth “Good teeth, however” she immediately grabbed a pair of tweezers “Hold still this will only take a second” she then grabbed something in her mouth and violently ripped it out Khadijah immediately Yelped in pain “AHH” “Interesting” Khadijah looked it was a chip “H-how?” Dembe threw it on the ground and crushed it “Tracking device is weak” “T-Tracking?” “They must’ve put it in you while you were asleep” Dembe then proceeded to examine her “How do you like this body?” Khadijah was a bit thrown off “Hmm?” “You came here with a man’s body and now a woman’s how does it feel” “Tremendous actually” “Good you are actually one of the first where this ritual was successful here” Khadijah got confused “Ritual?” she started trying to feel Khadijah’s heartbeat “Yes the sorcerers here gathered to give you your proper body I assisted actually, but only in gathering what was needed because I can only bring back the dead” “Interesting” “What?” “Sorry I am not used to being around magic users” “With time you will adjust” “Hopefully I just found out why my mom left today after not knowing for fourteen years” “Well at least you know she had a reason my father just shows up for a while drinks some alcohol smokes a cigar then leaves,” she said as she rolled her eyes “Rough relationship I guess?” Dembe smirked “yeah right he barely has one with his own wife and djol kaka” “Your mother?” “Nope my mother passed a long time ago he still cheats on his wife constantly” “Oh” “How is your relationship with your father?” She hadn’t even thought of him all day “He is the only parent I have, but since I was a child he’s been nothing but supportive” “He sounds like a good one” “Very I haven’t talked to him in so long” Dembe nodded and said “Well your checkup is done and you are in good condition however I’ll give you something for your tooth” Khadijah forgot about her tooth Dembe walked to some cabinets started looking through her cabinets she pulled out a root “Ginger should help” she walked back to Khadijah and handed it to her “You could eat it or crush it up and make tea” “Thank you” “No problem” Dembe was about to walk away when “Since this is no longer a check-up-” “Yes I’d love to spend some time when I’m free” Khad was astonished “How did you know?” Dembe smirked “It’s not every day you find someone as pretty as you” Khadijah blushed.

#somberoutcast #khadijhaghali #backstory #kennysatyr #originalcharacters #originalseries #hera #sekhmet #artemis #lotusarmy #fanartaccepted #orginstory