#his realisation that he's doomed to be alone

[muninnhuginn]

Thinking about "your weakness is how you always want to be the hero" and how the series returns to this at the end

Li Lianhua hated how he acted as Li Xiangyi and spent years trying to distance himself from it, but ultimately he still fell back into the similar patterns, for all his added experience

His main priority was always to "do the right thing" regardless of how that would impact on those around him. And it *did* impact those around him. From Qiao Wanmian and Shan Gudao as Li Xiangyi to Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng as Li Lianhua

Giving the Styx flower to the emperor so he could use it as leverage to guarantee Fang Duobing and his family's safety. Using the last of his power to save Yun Biqiu. Constantly putting others above himself whilst actively refusing to recognise that his self-sacrificial nature would hurt those he cared about most

And sure, he thinks he's going to die anyway. They're going to be hurt regardless and he can't do anything about that. His odds are low of the Styx flower even working. But ultimately, he refuses to even consider trying. Li Xiangyi has been dead a long time and Li Lianhua is just there to tide things over. What value is the life of a ghost

To the end, he lives and dies a hero. To the end, he refuses to live for himself.

#sth about how he almost managed to live for himself but his past and need to do right doomed him. #those missing years before canon starts were probably the closest he got but even then the knowledge he couldn't use martial arts #must have killed him (no pun intended). because he'd put so much stock in his identity as sigu sect leader + hero + prodigy #so to have such a massive part of his identity stripped from him... honestly it doesn't seem that he ever fully comes to terms with it #but he makes progress and he tries to do better. + that leads to him becoming a different type of 'hero' than the symbol he was originally #deep down he wants to help people with all he has but his capacity isn't infinite + at some point can only be taken from himself #mysterious lotus casebook #mlc spoilers #also to be clear I mention shan gudao not to say lxy should have realised earlier bc for a lot of the time he was too young to notice #and later on sgd did better at hiding his intentions. but more for how lxy tunnel visioned towards his idea of righteousness #and steamrolled over everyone else. both sgd and qwm were placed far below the importance of the sigu sect #and lxy's arrogance made it such that sigu became reliant on him alone as he shut others out (hence domino fall once he went). #idk if he could ever have 'fixed' what was btwn him and sgd bc it was so deep rooted but I do think that his actions #helped convince sgd that sgd was entirely in the right to choose his path #mlc #edit: just went and checked the exact wording of the TL and it's actually 'you like being a hero' rather than 'you want to be the hero' #which is different but still close enough in implications for my point to stand (I think)

[yaoyaobae]

Its been awhile and i have another OC to share LOL gotta draw brain rots instead of keeping them in your head forever ☺️💖

Name: Aurore Dormir

School: Royal Sword Academy

Pastime: Escaping school to wander in the nearby forest, spending time alone

Hobbies: Sightseeing, Gardening, Fencing.

Family: Father, Mother , *Brother ( silver, please refer to the last note regarding my own theory)

Aurore is a third year student at RSA, currently house warden of the sleeping beauty inspired dorm.

Aurore is also the next king of the Kingdom of Heroes, which naturally made him the center of attention in RSA.

Unlike Malleus whose powerful aura pushes people away from him, Aurore draws people towards him as they feel a sense of security around him.

He was only recently enrolled into school during his second year as his family brought him back from isolation for training, far away from the world’s eyes.

At first glance, Aurore may seem like the ideal dream prince: Kind, Polite, Courageous, Strong and Smart as he is consistent in securing top grades across his cohort. But deep down, he isn’t exactly the perfect prince most of his peers think he is.

Aurore is actually afraid of strangers and overwhelming attention ( he was raised in isolation so meeting humans are.. yeah) He is skilled at hiding his weakness but starts blanking out if there are too many people crowding around him.

As a result, he finds happiness in spending time alone in places where no one recognises him. He usually takes a short stroll around Sage Island’s various forests when his caretakers aren’t looking.

Strangely, Aurore mentions that his enjoyment from lonely strolls only existed because he would suddenly find himself in unknown places as a child…as if something or someone was calling him. But he became mentally stronger as he got older and knows how to guard himself during his impromptu walks.

Bonus personal theory/lore:

Hi! So if you have been following me since i started creating twst ocs, you would be familiar with a certain comic i drew for an Aurora Oc ( its not exactly Aurore because i didn’t flesh him out) . But to sum up my theory for that comic:

There was once a powerful kingdom that clashed with briar valley, humans and fae did not get along as well back then.

Somewhere in between the war, both of the queen’s sons were cursed by a powerful magician and separated at birth. The queen initially wanted to send her two sons far away from the castle, but only managed to send one tucked away in a casket that drifted on a hidden river which led to a forest.

The war ended a few days later, with both fae and humans forming a truce. The queen fell into depression after realising that her second son probably did not make it and blamed herself for not keeping him a little longer had she known he would have been safe and alive in her arms.

Time heals wounds, and with some reassurance from the King the Queen got back up on her feet stronger for the sake of her people. Of course, sometimes the servants would catch a glimpse of the lonely Queen staring into the far forests wondering if she will ever see those small pair of Aurora coloured eyes again.

Because the Queen conceived her two sons alone away from the servants, only she and the King were aware of their other missing son. The three fairy advisors who had protected them from the very start told the Queen that if word of two cursed princes were to spread, the kingdom would be doomed to fall . The Queen had no choice but to accept this decision, and so they entrusted their only son to the three fairies in case the curse within him acts up. Hence Aurore was raised in isolation away from the world’s attention and only enrolled in his second year to prevent the curse from possibly manifesting.

In this story I created Silver is the missing prince in question who drifted far into the forest and eventually picked up by Lilia. His only proof of his royal status is a ring with an aurora coloured gem (Book 7 mention).

Regarding the curse: Silver was cursed to feel drowsy all the time while Aurore was cursed to follow a voice in his head which leads him to sleepwalk into dangerous places alone. Silver’s hair colour reminds me of the spindle/needle, so in a way he contains the sleeping curse. Like Aurora, Aurore is drawn into strange places by a voice and eventually to the spindle. Hence these two will always feel an unfamiliar sense of closeness to each other.

“Yao why do you think Silver would have a brother? Much less the RSA guy inspired by Aurora? Doesn’t Silver already have Aurora’s traits?”

In general this is just my own fun theory to think about, but my reasons are because i think it would be interesting if Silver canonically had living family member(s) from a royal family( that ring kinda tells all). It would also put him in place wondering if he should return to his biological human family or stay with his Briar Valley family as he feels a stronger bond with them. With the way TWST tackles issues about fae/human like Sebek from example, i would love to see Silver’s resolve for his found family.

In my old comic, the Aurora OC actually dislikes Fae because of the war. He especially hates Lilia because he believed the war criminal took his own brother away and is promoting peace despite his past.

I feel Aurore would dislike Lilia but eventually learns to see the war from both sides as humans aren’t all that great either, he is still a naive prince with much to learn about the world. So while Silver does have Aurora’s trait, Aurore may have some of King Stefan’s from Maleficent/OG film. TWST tends to combine diff character traits anyways🌝👍

Anyways I adore these two so much and am looking forward to Silver’s past in the future updates! Thank you for reading about Aurore, till next time 💖

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanart #yaoyao_twstoc #auroredormir #twst silver

[parkerslatte]

So Loved

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: allusions to parental abuse

Summary: Y/N wakes up alone in the middle of the night. She finds Eris quietly talking to their son.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

The left side of the bed was vacant when Y/N reached across to the usual warmth of her husband. She cracked one eye open. The only light in the bedroom was filtered through the lace curtain. The bed was still warm, meaning Eris hadn’t left long ago. 

Y/N sat up in the bed and stretched her body. There were faint whispers coming from the room right next to theirs. A tired smile stretched across Y/N’s face. She slowly manoeuvred to the side of the bed and slipped her feet into the floor, shivering in the process as the cold air hit her. Her silk nightgown did nothing to shield her from the cold. 

Folding her arms across her chest, Y/N stood up and walked out of their bedroom. The door was always open a crack just in case they heard anything in the night. Nowadays Eris was a light sleeper and with any noise coming from the other room, he was already up and checking that everything was okay. 

The whispers were louder now that Y/N was in the hall. Their house was small and deep in the woods. Despite now being High Lord, Eris preferred to live in a small cottage only surrounded by a few trusted individuals opposed to the Autumn Palace. He preferred the simplicity of it all. 

As Y/N stood in the threshold of the room, she smiled and leaned against the doorway. Eris was sitting in the chair next to their son’s cot, gently cradling him to his chest. 

“I don’t know how I got so lucky with you,” Eris whispered. “You are perfect.”

Y/N leaned against the doorway and watched the scene unfold, her heart swelling twice its size. 

“You are going to grow up so loved,” Eris said. “You will have everything I didn’t have growing up. You could tell me that you want the moon on a string and I would give it to you.”

“I don’t need you spoiling our child more than you already have,” Y/N teased, gliding into the room. “He’s not even eight months old yet.”

Eris tilted his head to Y/N and smiled and there was nothing but love in that smile. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Eris asked. 

“Not long,” Y/N replied, draping herself over the back of the chair and wrapping her arms around Eris and their son. “I turned over and realised that you were gone. There was only one place you would be.”

Eris smiled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s cheek then on to his son’s head. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Y/N replied, her fingers reaching out to her son. Even in his sleep, he gripped onto them. 

“How is he so perfect?” Eris whispered. 

“That’s easy,” Y/N replied. “You are his father.”

Eris scoffed quietly. “Have you met his mother?”

Y/N giggled and pressed a kiss to Eris’s cheek before nesting her head into the crook of his neck.

The small family simply enjoyed the small moment of silence. Nothing could harm them and everything was perfect. 

Eris was the first to break it. “I had a nightmare.”

Y/N stiffened. “Oh my love, are you okay?”

Eris smiled at the affection. “I am now.”

“What was it about?”

Eris sighed, hugging his child closer to his chest. “It was about all of us, many years from now. Theon was grown up, he was about ten or so. He looked so much like you.”

Y/N hugged him a little tighter, her lips ghosting his neck. 

“The dream started off good but I soon began to act like my father. I dismissed Theon and was vile toward him,” Eris said, his voice laced in sadness. “I said horrible things and it made me think…what if I do turn out like him? What if I’m simply doomed to repeat my fathers abuse?”

Y/N released Eris and circled around until she was in front of him. She pulled the second chair closer and sat down, her hands reaching out to caress his arm. 

“Eris, listen to me when I say that you are nothing like him. Nothing like him,” Y/N said. “You are the most perfect, loving father in the whole of Prynthian. The amount of love you gave in your heart for your son is astronomical. You are nothing like that bastard that raised you– and you won’t be. You never will be.”

With one hand, Eris laced their fingers together as he looked at Y/N. The emotion on his face was unreadable but Y/N could tell that her words had touched him. 

“Theon is so loved, by you and by me,” Y/N said, lifting Eris’s hand to press a gentle kiss against his knuckles. “You moved us out into the woods just so he doesn’t need to grow up under the influence of the rest of the court. You were the one who said you wanted him to have a normal childhood without the constant training until he reaches maturity. You want him to be a normal kid, a happy kid. You have already given him so much love and care and he is not even a year old. You could never be like your father because you, Eris Vanserra, are a good male.”

Eris’s eyes glistened with tears as he kissed his son on his head, the red locks the same shade as his father. 

“I love you both so much,” Eris whispered. “I never thought I would be granted such a life.”

Y/N stood to her feet and pressed a kiss against her son’s head and then Eris’s cheek. “Well you have, and best believe that you deserve it, Eris.”

Stepping back from the chair Eris was sitting in, Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “I’m going back to bed. You can join me whenever you are ready.”

Once Y/N was standing in the threshold of the doorway, she looked back at her son and Eris and wished she could capture this moment in time. Y/N continued down to her and Eris’s bedroom and entered it, her bed calling to her. As she began to settle down, Eris slipped in and climbed onto the bed. 

“I thought you would have stayed with him longer?” Y/N said, as Eris pulled her back against his chest, intertwining their fingers. Y/N instantly felt warmer. 

“He opened his eyes just after you left and seemed pretty pissed that I disturbed his sleep,” Eris muttered, amusement in his tone. 

“I would be pretty pissed if you disturbed my sleep too,” Y/N jokes, pulling Eris’s arm tighter around her body. 

Eris kissed her head. “I see where he gets it from.”

Y/N smiled and closed her eyes. “I love you, Eris.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Eris replied. “Thank you for giving me the son I never thought I could have.”

Y/N nuzzled further into Eris's warmth. “When he wakes up grouchy tomorrow because you disturbed his sleep, you will wish he was not your son.”

Eris laughed quietly. “Impossible, because the amount of love I have for him is more than I thought I could hold in my heart. Even if he is grouchy in the morning.”

Y/N hummed in amusement. Before she knew it she fell asleep peacefully in Eris’s arms and dreamt about their small, perfect family.

#eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #high lord eris #eris vanserra fluff #acotar x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[iovesia]

𐚁֙࿐ SNOWED IN.

tbosas mlist.⠀ 𑇓 ⊹ ᳝ ࣪ ⠀ex-bf!coriolanus snow⠀𝑥⠀f!reader.

synopsis. the last thing you wanna do is share a cabin with your ex— let alone be snowed in together.

contents. modern au. headcanons. established relationship?. forced proximity. implied infidelity. toxic!coriolanus. brief nsfw. not proof read.

⋆ 𓂃 ﾟ .⠀josie's little note: merry late christmas my lovelies! here's some holiday themed smut from yours truly.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ⠀you and coriolanus had conveniently broken up in the coming weeks before the annual ski-trip with your friend group. your paranoia got the better of you when you notice him and a certain brunette songbird getting closer.

"nothing's going on— you're being crazy," he sighs, rolling his eyes as he suddenly gets out of bed. safe to say, your accusations had killed the mood according to his haste in putting his pants back on.

"would it even really matter as long as i come home to you?"

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ safe to say, you put your foot down that night and called it quits. coriolanus being a stubborn bastard couldn't help but badmouth you to your mutual friends— creating an awkward tension for the upcoming trip.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ the trip was doomed from the start when you realised you would be squeezed against him in the tiny travel van to the cabins. none of your friends were willing to trade, choosing to sit with their own lovers— so there you were, pressed up against coriolanus' side. the blond made no effort to even acknowledge you, keeping his head facing the frosty window for the entire 6 hour drive.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ to make matters worse, you completely forgot that you two had initially booked a cabin to share. you were too embarrassed to ask your friends to trade, while coriolanus shamelessly demanded his friends to swap with him.

your friends shared brief glances before shaking their heads no. coriolanus lets out a scoff, like a spoiled brat not being handed his present— while you tried to maintain some level of humility. there was no need to spoil your friends' vacation as well.

you could handle a week with your ex.. right?

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ unfortunately, coriolanus had other plans. now that you two weren't together anymore, you finally started to notice all his little .. quirks that you were ignorant to before.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ like his incessant need to keep everything organised, keep everything clean. can you brush your teeth quieter? it's annoying to listen to. organise your clothes! don't leave your suitcase sprawled out. you knew he was acting out because he was bitter. but to avoid another argument, you begrudgingly obeyed his complaints.

"i nearly tripped and broke my neck. twice," he mumbles venomously, purposefully shoving your suitcase to the wall with his foot. mimicking his tone under your breath, you stand up from your bed.

"since when did you become a tightass?" you retort.

"since when did you become a slob?"

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ thankfully, during the majority of this hell-week you managed to avoid coriolanus while skiing, and choosing to sit at opposite ends of the table during dinners. you can feel his piercing glare occasionally, but when you turn to meet his gaze, he turns his head away.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ your mutuals friends pry the two of you for information on why you split up. while you remain vague, you overhear coriolanus smugly conjuring up some story about you being insecure and over possessive. what a hypocrite.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ just on the evening of your final night in the cabin, you hear a sudden thud that shakes your nightstand. the wind and snow were bad during every night of your trip— but this .. this one was especially bad.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ much to your horror, the only thing that awaits you the next morning is not your friends in the van packed and ready to go.. but a thick sheet of white. pure, hard snow. the snow almost reached the top of the door frame, successfully trapping the two of you inside.

"you've got to be kidding me.." you huff, your shoulder pressed against the door. coriolanus has his back against the door next to you— the two of you banding together to try and shut the door again.

the heavy snow barely makes a dent as you both huff and puff, pushing with all your might. "maybe if someone used their eyes before opening, we wouldn't be doing this," coriolanus rolls his eyes.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ the hours are painful and awkward. according to your group chat, you're gonna have to wait out the snow til the next morning. so much for hotel service. it wasn't all bad in the beginning, with you and your ex just sitting in opposite ends of the room, scrolling on your phones.

you were giggling at a random video on your phone when you felt a nudge on your shoulder. furrowing your brows, you turn to see coriolanus standing oddly close behind you, his face blank.

"what do you want?" you shrug him off.

"phone died," he replies, annoyingly taking a seat right on your bed. you raise a brow, suspiciously eyeing his nonchalant behavior as if he hadn't been throwing himself a pity-party the last few weeks.

"so read a book," you scoff.

"didn't bring one."

"take a nap."

"not tired."

"then imagine me caring," you roll onto your side of the bed, back facing him as he continues to invade your space. coriolanus tilts his head, his face still expressionless as he watches you scroll on your phone.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ you couldn't avoid coriolanus's intense stare. it was penetrating into the back of your head. he was always like this. an observer. practically monitoring every little thing you were doing. it was one of the reasons you fell out.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ coriolanus kept edging closer to you, trying to sneak a peek at who you're texting and you keep shuffling away, trying to preserve an ounce of privacy in this cabin.

"can you not?" you close your phone, setting it to the side. coriolanus' blank face breaks into a sly smirk, as he shrugs his shoulders. "you're so nosy."

"don't want me to see your texts to sejanus?" coriolanus pouts mockingly, his head tilted. "you've always had a thing for him.. everyone knows it— it's probably why you couldn't commit to a real relationship."

there's mockery laced in his tone, but you notice the hint of bitterness. your blood boils at his insinuation. coriolanus's habit of nonchalantly bringing up everything he deems "wrong" with you irks you to no end.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"you know what i mean."

"that's so rich coming from you," you quip, sitting up from your position. you glare down at coriolanus who was sprawled over your designated bed, like a cheshire cat. "you're used to be all over lucy gray when we were together— didn't see you complaining about commitment then," you throw the pillow at the blond.

"that was different, and you know it," coriolanus scoffs, dismissing your valid point as he gets off the bed, tossing the pillow back at you.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ coriolanus's little quips were just fuel to the fire, as the two of you fall into the vicious cycle of another argument. this tiny cabin keeping your loud voices bouncing off the walls.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ his cold blue eyes glaring down at you, a finger in your face and condescension leaking from his words. you spit back throwing accusations after accusation that coriolanus dismisses easily.

"fuck you, coriolanus," you whisper coldly. his warm breath hits your face, his nose a few inches from yours as his deadly gaze mimics yours. a pregnant pause fills the room, as if all the air has been sucked out the cabin.

"fuck it," coriolanus hisses. his pale fingers pinch into your jaw as he tugs your face close, his lips smashing against yours. you let out a soft squeak in surprise and anger. you slap at his chest, trying to shove him away as he moves his free hand to your waist, pressing you up against his lean figure.

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ ྂ your venomous words were consumed by the echoes of moaning and panting. his cruel jabs swallowed by your lips, but his anger evident in how hard he pinches your waist.

"sorry.. did you say something?" coriolanus croons, his forehead against yours. you pant and whimper softly, unable to bite back as your nails dig into his shoulders. his hips were unrelenting as they rutted against you, almost like he was trying to hurt you. your words come out garbled as coriolanus's fingers toy with the bundle of nerves between your legs. "that's what i thought."

coriolanus snow taglist. to be added !

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀join/remove from my taglist.

© 𝐈𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀, 2023. do not copy, repost or translate my works.

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow angst

[cillivnz]

MISS A SPOT, HIT THE SPOT [lord dimitrescu]

pairing. LORD DIMITRESCU x MAID!READER (dub!con turned consensual)

initial, DIMITRESCU SONS x READER (very dubious consent)

word count. 3072

warnings. AFAB!reader, cursing, misogynistic themes, animal cruelty (using gator-skin on furniture; don’t call PETA on me, i’m sorry), groping, a little bit of exhibitionism, dub!con, fingering, reader is pinned against the wall, reader’s family has been serving the Dimitrescus, large age-gap, oral sex (both receiving), throat-fucking, tongue-fucking, clit play, pyromania, dacryphilia, extreme degradation, belittling, spitting, penetrative sex (p! in v!), squirting, multiple & forced orgasms, extreme breast/nipple play, reader’s just being used by the family, reader is called maid as well as a pet name in Romanian, unprotected sex, creampie.

listening to. ‘Enslaved’ by Diva Destruction

notes. Y/L — Your Last Name, Y/F/N — Your Father’s Name, căprița mea mică — my little doe

A regular day in an abysmal castle.

Your ancestry were sworn servants of the Dimitrescu royals, and ensuing your father’s demise after leading a devoted life to the Lord, it was your turn.

You managed to avoid his acknowledge, as well as his sons’; something you thanked your stars for. You were still at a tender age; early twenties yet unexposed to the worldly works, courtesy of your conservative father. You loved the old man, despite him giving you constant reminders that your birth doomed him— how you should’ve been a son to continue his legacy, not a fragile, worthless woman. But those words only came out of his mouth like venom when he was made to overwork or worse— punished.

And like any other day you were dusting the halls. Except it wasn’t every other day you felt your skirt lift up fervently by two strong hands who also pinned you against the wall. An heir. Another, holding you down, while one tugged at your blouse. Alas, the Dimitrescu boys had found you.

“Well, well, the silhouette comes to life.” The one pining you spoke. He had a raspy voice with some baritone to it. “Sire, please leave me be—” you beseeched, but before you could even beg, you choked on your own words as your thong was pushed to the side. “She wants to leave, yet you roam about our land dressed like a whore.” This erupted demonic laughter from all three. “You thought we ought not to catch on?” The one below spoke, his face so close to your cunt, you felt heat radiate off of him with every syllable he dragged. “Your scent lingers— hauntingly— how we’ve chased after your ghost.” “But you were always too fast, little doe.”

“Always teasing us — where were you hiding this beauty? Hm?” One teased, his stone cold lips grazing your bare shoulder. “Moreover where had you been hiding this ass of yours?”

You jolted when a harsh slap landed on your ass, your not-so-subtle moan eliciting evil laughter from the men harassing you.

The one gripping your ass began to spread it, you writhed like a worm in their vice-like embrace, begging and praying for the abuse to be over; in a way it was.

The minute you felt something stroke your folds, prodding at your entrance, a demonic thunder struck. “What do you have here, boys?” They froze, as did you. This is the most cooperation you four have shown, as if unsaid, yet understood that if you hold your breath and close your eyes, the Lord can’t hurt you.

But slowly, as if puppies caught creating chaos by their master, did the boys move away from you. Bright yellow eyes ablaze in the monotonous dark of his castle. His eyes darted from your glassy eyes staring at him, the fear in them, to your rosy cheeks, blood-red lips, and straight to your skirt; your ass was out since a Dimitrescu brother hiked it up, the same heir, on realising what his father’s hungry eyes were doting upon, made a feeble attempt to fix your skirt, but before his fingers, barely tainted with your slick wetness, could touch the fabric of your skirt, let alone fix it, his father ordered. “Don’t you dare lay hands on her, more than you have already.” The Lord spoke with utmost calmness, and that’s what terrified the four of you, you especially, the most.

Reluctantly but obediently they stepped away from you. You were still clinging to the wall, frozen in place. “Come on over,” You saw his gloved hand motion towards him, “My chambers need cleaning.” An ominously mischievous tone and provocative smirk tugged at his lips.

The walk to the Lord’s chambers was awkward and fearful. He had insisted you walked in front of him, and you could feel eyes ripping through your flesh, your predator ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

You were making feeble steps towards his chambers, almost there, when he interrupted you, “Halt,” he said, causing you to stop dead in your tracks, but you dare not look back at him. “Clean my study firstly.” He ordered, and waited by the door for you to turn around.

Once you turned, you were met by calculating amber eyes that peered down at you from a head held high. He stood by the doorframe, and on seeing you make weak, yet progressive steps towards him, his thunderous strides entered the chamber. He was seated on a leather chair by the time you entered, as if he’d been there the entire time. ‘Gator skin,’ you heard a rumour the one time you cleaned the Lord’s study before. ‘He tore it apart with his bare hands, and had it skinned into a chair as a trophy.’ You hadn’t believed the chamberlain until you’d seen it yourself.

On the left of it was an ablaze fireplace, and in front, was a library; not colossal, yet extreme in number. Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display.

“Do you fancy reading?” You almost jumped when his ravenous voice broke the eerie silence you were just growing accustomed to. “Yes, my Lord.” You seemed to pique his interest when he hummed after a short pause, surprised within yourself at the sudden confidence. It was clear, you preferred the father’s company to his sons’. Perhaps, you felt safe knowing he is the leash on his sons— the fear of your fears.

“Well, if your cleaning is satisfactory, perhaps… I’ll let you take some.” the Lord proposed, but somehow you knew this reward wasn’t for cleaning but something else he wanted to deem satisfactory.

You dare not utter another word and got to cleaning.

Dusting away, between books, underneath books; wiping away at the large mirror by the shelves. “What do they call you?” He asked with authority.

“Y/N Y/L, my Lord,” you hesitantly revealed. “Y/L!” He exclaimed, “You’re Y/F/N Y/L’s daughter,” he concluded in a wicked tone. With each wipe, he grew closer and closer and the horrid smile on his face grew wider and more sinister, forcing you to look back at him at a neck-snapping speed, only to catch him, still seated, gazing at you innocently.

“Mop the floors,” he requested, before adding “Maid.” As if asking your revelation of your identity fell on deaf ears that never demanded it. Without muttering, you dampen the mop and began cleaning.

This was just cruel.

You thought your saviour actually required your services, yet the man had you in the same position as his sons, except voluntarily, for you had to bend on all fours and stretch not to miss a spot, after all you were cleaning your master’s land, at his request. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ you sighed, only daring to think of it.

You heard fervent movement behind you, and the next thing you feel is your thong being pulled down till your ankles. It happened all too fast, you barely registered anything until his large hands spread you open to him. “They were right about you,” He spoke, intrigued, “Such exemplary beauty, căprița mea mică. Utterly pristine.”

Noticing your haltered movements, he quirked a brow. “Did I permit you to stop?” You choked a gasp, feeling his left hand trace your curves, making its way to squeeze your throat, while his right hand fiddled with your glistening folds. “No sir,” you breathed a sigh at the pleasure he was making you feel. “Fucking continue then.” He ordered and you did.

Maybe not a regular day in an abysmal castle. Your 9’6 Lord and Master, the fearsome and notorious, the head of the dreaded Dimitrescu family, Lord Dimitrescu himself, kneeling behind you while you wipe his floors, fingers stroking your lips, not yet penetrating, just— “Oh!” You moaned when a long, thick, wet something slithered about your pussy. Prodding at the places his very fingers grazed, now wiggling inside you.

You began panting, about to look back and begin your pleads when a strong hand grabbed your skull and forced it in place.

You were terrified; just a bit more coaxing and he could crack open your skull. You were less than half his size and half his age. What was more frightening to you was that it was just the tip of his tongue inside you. Your eyes rolled back and damn-near saw your brain as he began pushing more of it in.

Still, obediently, you wiped.

This pleased the Lord as he wrapped an arm over your waist to your legs and brought his thumb to your clit. The circular motions of figure-eights on your clit were frantic, causing an excruciating jolt of pleasure to run down your lower half, his anomaly of a tongue amplifying the feel.

You bit you lip, nearly drawing blood as the knot in your core grew unbearable. Feeling you clench around his tongue, Lord Dimitrescu replaced the oral attack with two of his fingers, stretching you so bittersweetly. The assault on your cunt was aching. He’d graze your g-spot oh-so-softly, slowly driving you to the edge yet deliberately prolonging the high tide. “You are making a mess, căprița mea mică,” he sighed, eyeing the slick dripping down your thighs, drenching you in all, and the wooden floor beneath you. “Allow me to help.” It was more imperative than offering, so it was but natural you grimaced in pain when he pulled out his fingers, moments before you were coming undone, only to spread your aching hole and spit into it.

You moaned; shamelessly, you let out a filthy, degraded moan, and the sound travelled straight to the Lord’s cock. “There, there,” he rubbed his spit on your folds, your swollen clit bathed in it, “All better — nice and clean.” He chuckled, causing goosebumps to arise on your spine and your breath to get caught in your throat when he shoved not two but three fingers smoothly into your weeping cunt.

You clenched at the sudden attack, bewildered at how easily you were being made to cum for your master yet again. He rose from his position to whisper in your ear, “Hits the spot, doesn’t it?” At that moment, he had you unravelling with a curl on his fingers inside you.

You screaming a string of curses, the Lord greatly amused by your sailor’s tongue.

He stood up, without a word or move. “Clean the mess you made.” He gestured down at your juices that he flowed out of your cunt. “And while you’re down there…” He unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock that sprang free, a demonic thing, it was; certainly, not pleasurable to accommodate inside, unless…

“Don’t be afraid, maid.” His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring.

“It can’t hurt you, unless I want it to.” His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you. You wavered off the uneasiness, still eager to please your master. Grabbing his colossal cock, you began to work out the large vein on the underside of it. He hissed when you applied pressure, using both your hands in an attempt to hold it; in vain it went. You licked the tip, before slowly taking it in your mouth.

“That’s it. Show me you’re an all-rounder, maid; not just for wiping floors, show me that’s not all you can do bent over.” He chuckled, something so sinister about how his own vulgarity was so amusing to him. However, you weren’t opposed to it. After all, orders were orders; that’s one thing your father did teach you, if ordered directly, orders are orders, even if they’re fatal.

You gagged on less-than half the length, but your quick save by jacking off the inches unabsorbed by your mouth was much appreciated by the man above you. His large palm resting atop your head, slowly caressing your messed up hair into place. The gesture nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

“You take it like it was made for you.” He cooed. You couldn’t help but put your guard down, making it unknowingly advantageous to the Lord who grabbed the same head he was caressing, as support to fuck your throat. He only chuckled at the stream of years flowing through your glassy eyes. Your flushed face tainted with tears was now red with lack of oxygen. His cock was slamming past your uvula; the bell tolls, as if he were morally obligated to.

“So young, yet you suck cock like you’ve been a whore all your life.” He chuckled to himself, before thrusting in deeply, and cumming inside your mouth. You swallowed his ichor without being told, when you stuck out your tongue to show him, he groaned, face contorted in some form of arousal, as he lifted your frame to his, kissing you with neediness. His lips were surprisingly tender, beard teasing your face while his tongue, one that swept your insides clean, forced entry into your mouth, which you hesitantly permitted.

“Dust by the fireplace, better get to it.” He said, pulling away from you. You grabbed the supplies and moved towards the said place. You hadn’t noticed when the flames became blazing, a conflagration, either way, you dipped the mop in the bucket beside you, and began wiping.

You couldn’t get much done, however, for from underneath your skirt, you felt something big prod your entrance. Rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, Lord Dimitrescu positioned himself behind you, before shoving the whole of it in. You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure. “My…-my Lord!” You moaned, trying to form an actual sentence, “This is highly inap…-inappropriate!” You managed to muster. “Really now?” He questioned, you don’t know if it was a scoff or a laugh following his amused tone. “Who,” he paused, pushing you forward. You were now a stone’s throw away from the fire, every thrust into you pulled you back, which, despite the burn of the stretch, made you grateful for you were pulled back from the fireplace. “Do you think,” he continued, thrusting into you harder each time; the heat of the fire threatening to melt you whole, grazing your face, delicately. “You are.” He finished, slamming into you so hard, you began to cum, but before you could unravel before him, he pulled out, causing your pussy to spasm around the eerie nothingness of the room.

You were reduced to a whining mess, no words coming out of your abused mouth. “What’s the matter, maid? You want to cum?” he questioned, gripping your curvy hips. “Even when you’ve missed a spot?” One of his arms snaked on your waist, the other roamed about your spine, laying you down, before pulling your head up by your hair.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” he groaned, cock pressing against your slit, it’s new home, yet not in. He grabbed the bucket of freshwater besides you, pouring it all on the floor. “Let’s get that spot, shall we?” He said, before doing something so degrading, you felt disgusted in your own skin for enjoying.

Your hot body was used to wipe the floors of Lord Dimitrescu’s study. Ripping your blouse into shreds, he groped your breasts that had sprang free, before positioning your chest on the wet floor, and swaying you left to right.

This man, your ancestry’s master, was balls deep inside your abused pussy, fucking away the life in you, while using your tits as a mop. You moaned as your burning skin made contact with the icy puddle. “That’s how you wipe, căprița mea mică, so much better.” He grunted, the pace, the size, the girth, the sheer brutality of his sex was like a punch to the gut, nonetheless your poor cunt made feeble attempts to get accustomed to the ongoing torture. Your cunt clenched around his cock while your breasts swayed from side to side, the carpet had soupçons of water, courtesy of the fervency with which you “wiped”, which it soaked up instantly.

“My Lord, I’m going to- oh!” You yelped when he pulled out, shoving his fingers inside you and curling them. You hadn’t anticipated this, body reacting on sheer adrenaline junk that’s been coaxed out of you since the incident with this man’s sons in the halls of his castle.

Then, as fate would have it, mocking your misery, you squirted all over the floor. The juices gushing out your cunt, drowning the man that coaxed them out. He giggled, like a fucking teenager, while you fought for consciousness. Sure, you’d had sex before, he was a chef in this very place who mysteriously disappeared, but a man Lord Dimitrescu’s size? You had never held your head high around the family, avoiding their gaze like a thief, and now he’s fucking you like a stinging reminder of why you should’ve stayed in the shadows— remained a silhouette.

You were sore from the previous two orgasms, yet the man made it look easy to coax your third. The hostility your cunt displaying, clenching around the wanted, yet unmanageable penetration, was enough to unravel Lord Dimitrescu, you following with pornographic screams.

His grip on your hip and scalp was tormenting, but it soon loosened when he pumped into you one last time, pussy milked dry, filled with his overflowing load. He exhaled sharply, pulling up your panties, tapping your ass lightly. “You have been amazing — definitely considering promoting you.” He seemed very proud of his joke. Leaning down to catch your ear where you’d nearly passed out on the ground, he whispered in your ear. “Now, clean up.”

He left a moment after, stopping at the doorway to catch a glimpse of your sexy, worn out body. “My room’s next.” He said, leaving you alone with a shit load of mess to clean.

Your mess.

main masterlist. more from “resident evil: village”.

#lord dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu genderbent #lady dimitrescu #genderbent #lord dimitrescu smut #lord dimitrescu x reader #lord dimitrescu x reader smut #size difference #resident evil #resident evil village #dimitrescu #monster smut #vampire smut #lord dimitrescu sons #dimitrescu family #resident evil dimitrescu #maid dress #slutty maid

[honeydippedwaffles]

Smallest Drop - Part 4

Summary: Tav isn't sure how honest she can be with Astarion when any form of genuine emotion startles him into running away from her while he tries to figure out what more they can share beyond sex.

There will be a part 5. Astarion needs to learn to handle this new situation.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.5k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

They walked on a knife’s edge. It remained clear as day to her even if Astarion held the title of least forthcoming person in the world. A minor miracle given she spent so much time of her time trying to work out what Shadowheart’s situation entailed.

But Astarion trusted her with almost nothing and she didn’t have any certainty it would change.

She accepted it. The only problem she found dogging her was she understood almost nothing about what he wanted.

His teasing was obvious; honey words with so much falsity, they could drown her if she let them. She may have accepted his offers to spend the night tangled together had it not been for his expressions. His heart wasn’t in it and so she thought that too came of lies and mere fun.

So, she turned him down with just as much laughter.

Wyll warned her about it before she realised for herself. He commented while they shared a drink and she waxed her usual poetry about Astarion’s eyes.

“You must be careful,” Wyll said. “I’ve known plenty of men like him and they hide their emotions well but it makes it no less real. He’s going to think you’re not interested in him anymore.”

“But after what happened the first time, he’s the one who didn’t have fun.”

“Doesn’t matter. In his mind, you slept together once and just became what? Flirtatious friends? Without any definition, he’s going to think you didn’t enjoy it or presume you found a replacement.”

“Oh, that’s not what the problem was and you know it.”

“I do but he doesn’t.”

She pouted over her wine.

The night had been memorable for sure: his words sweet and his technique perfect but something ripped her away from it. As good as he was, nothing felt real. He moved with practised ease, forgoing any playful teases or comments she expected and replaced them all with generic compliments about her body.

When his teeth sunk into her neck, sharp and icy as they had been the first time, she’d seen a little more of him. He slowed down, stopped overwhelming her with sensation, and just existed. But when he’d moved away and she moaned his name softly, it sent him spiralling straight back into the act again and the compliments returned to lines from a script.

But she wasn’t exactly about to go and tell him she didn’t have fun. It would be a lie either way. She just saw no reason to rush into it once more.

Not until she understood him a little better.

“Can you imagine what he’d say if I brought something like this up? The thought of it alone provides enough anxiety to keep me quiet.”

Wyll chuckled. “I’ll tell Karlach for you. I’m sure she’ll happily proclaim the situation to the entire camp and the next city over.”

She rolled her eyes and drank from her goblet. “Don’t you dare.”

Without any events like the party though, she saw no opportunity to bring the problem back up and instead just returned his flirtations in kind. It worried her but she could find it in herself to break their little game with a topic as sensitive as emotions. Those were some of Astarion’s least favourite things.

Yet Wyll’s prediction appeared doomed to fruition and late one evening after she retired to her tent, she found herself wholly unable to sleep thanks to incessant whispering.

Not from her own mind (thank the gods) but from the only other tent close enough to hear into.

“I know vampires have no need of rest,” she said after skulking over, arms crossed over her chest. “But if that infernal book doesn’t keep quiet, it will likely drive me to madness.”

Astarion’s eyes darted up to her, smiling over the top as though he had no realisation of what he’d been doing. She adored the way the torchlight flickered over his skin and humiliated herself with how quickly irritation waned under his gaze.

“My apologies,” he hummed. “I’m so close to uncovering its secrets. I couldn’t bear to put it down yet.”

Sometimes, she wondered if she made the right decision handing the book to him instead of Gale. Though the wizard may have consumed the weave within, she likely would worry a little less.

“What are you hoping to gain from reading it?”

He traced the outside cover thoughtfully. “Books like this always hold power. With how well-guarded this one is, I can’t imagine what secrets it contains.”

“Seems dangerous.”

“Aren’t we all?”

He tucked the book back into a chest in his tent and lounged backwards on his bedroll, gesturing for her to join him. She did, sitting close but not quite touching, cross-legged instead of sprawled over the ground as she did when she invited him to stargaze with her.

If she had been more awake, she’d probably worry about accidentally upsetting him in any way. His voice soothed her usually but now it only put her on edge.

The perfect smile, composed through masterful talent and designed to make her happy, graced his lips. She knew she likely fell for his falsities more often than she thought but he wouldn’t catch her now.

She sat up straighter and waited, allowing him to speak first.

Eventually he did with a dramatic gesture. “I’ve finally figured you out and I must say, you surprised me. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you?”

He laughed but she didn’t join. “Normally, I’m incredibly good at sensing when people have, shall we say, other interests, but you managed to keep it quiet for longer than I thought possible.”

“I’m not sure if it’s the sleep deprivation but I really need a better explanation.”

He sighed, put out by her naiveness perhaps. “I overheard a comment from our resident cleric and I learned why our late-night trysts have come to an end. A pity. They were the one thing I looked forward to with perpetual doom looming.”

Her blood ran cold and she sat up a little straighter. “What?”

Astarion smiled as though they were merely friends gossiping about her newest fling. “Don’t worry, I’m happy for you, you know. What we had was a great deal of fun but that’s really all it was. I think it’ll be good for you to find your footing with something a little more permanent.”

Unsure if she was still half-asleep or not, she shook her head to try and understand. “Was that all I was to you?” she asked. “Fun?”

“Oh no, not at all. I mean, you were a lot of fun, but I understand even the best entertainment can get boring when you find somebody else.”

“Who else could I be sleeping with?”

“I don’t know if it’s gone that far,” he said with a chuckle. “Wyll’s rather stuck in the past, in more ways than one. He seems the type to really hold himself to a standard for the first time.”

Wyll? She glanced towards his tent on instinct, confused by the comment. The Blade of Frontiers certainly got along brilliantly with her; they’d made fast friends between shared stories but she held as much physical attraction to him as she did towards any of the others.

Though admittedly he hadn’t offered to taste her sweat yet so that gave him a small edge over certain friends.

“Astarion,” she said, making sure she didn’t falter when he answered her with the cutest hum. “I’m not doing anything with Wyll. He’s my friend but nothing more and even if you were right… I don’t think there’s anybody I would choose over you.”

“What? Why?”

“You must be blind if you’ve missed how I look at you.”

“I mean, obviously I’ve noticed your interest. If you didn’t like me, it would say everything about your taste but we had our fun. I really don’t mind so long as I can keep all those delicious memories of the time we spent together.”

“I mind dating Wyll though?”

“Really? He’s handsome enough for a fiend, don’t you think? And he certain suits your whole hero complex.”

“Hero complex?”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Don’t take it personally, darling. Everybody loves your whole commitment to doing good deeds and I’ve almost developed an immunity to it. Almost. Regardless, Wyll suits you awfully well. Your future could be written into the history books, legends of saving poor, innocent puppies and then, when you get bored of your domestic life… well, I’ll definitely never oppose a quick, dirty affair.”

Her mouth tasted bitter at the idea.

“Well, you can imagine your fantasy however you want but I’m not going to be sharing anything more than a bottle of wine with Wyll.”

He appeared genuinely irritated at her insistence. She’d noticed his habit of baring his fangs when something annoyed him, often wanting to gently touch them. Why did this matter so much at him?

“Oh,” he finally said. “Glad to have cleared it up. You may want to tell Shadowheart before she blurts it to the entire Sword Coast.”

Shadowheart likely said nothing of the sort. None of her companions missed the small flame she held for Astarion.

None except him, it would seem.

“Are you upset because we haven’t slept together recently?”

The question caught him off-guard but he recovered quickly, smiling a familiar coy smirk as he answered. “I do admit, I’ve been worried for your mental health. They say it’s very bad to sleep alone, you know.”

Okay, so it had been related. She’d hoped he realised by himself that she wasn’t trying to slight or disregard him.

“Is it important to you?”

His smirk faltered, incredulous and confused. “Is what important to me?”

She gestured at the space between them, trying to convey herself as clearly as she could. “Fun, or whatever you keep calling it. Is that like a super big thing for us to do?”

Maybe she could make it all about her for now. She could pretend the problem came from her side rather than admitting to the truth.

He looked incredibly bored when he answered. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“As great as you are at everything, I don’t know, I was thinking we could share a relationship that’s a little more than just fun.”

“More?”

“Unless you’re not comfortable with it.”

She had genuinely confused him and he took a few seconds to think about it, gaze drifting off and over her shoulder to something else. When he looked back at her, his expression was unreadable.

“We… we can try for more,” he said. “If you want. You know, if that’s what was keeping you from enjoying the finer things of life, you needed only to say. We could have started on this whole ‘more’ thing days ago and then you can enjoy all of me, guilt-free.”

“Strangely, I enjoy more about your company than how talented you are in other fields,” she said, sarcastic. “If all I wanted was sex, I could have ditched you lot in the first town and hired a brothel. The heavens know I have enough gold.”

He scoffed. “You wouldn’t have half of it if you didn’t have an uncanny knack for finding merchants who will buy your junk.”

“And I wouldn’t have half the junk I do if not for the rogue I drag to every chest,” she teased.

“Ah so it’s not because of my talents, it’s because you don’t know what a lockpick is.”

She would laugh if she didn’t fear he may genuinely think that to be a reason she wanted him around. He may have pushed aside their earlier conversation but the worries lingered in her mind.

She’d spent too many hours with this man to have him believe she didn’t genuinely just enjoy his personality. She’d sketched his laugh lines, listened to the way he teased their friends, dragged him closer to the group so he stopped hovering in the darkness.

“Astarion?” she said and she ran her fingers over the back of his hand so he’d look at her. “Is it really so hard to believe I drag you around to these places because I like spending time with you?”

He chuckled. “Of course not. Have you met me?”

“As long as you know.”

He tilted his head towards her, red eyes burning through her with an unreadable emotion. “It’s the type of noble thing you do. You collect all these crazy people from their situations to save them. They might not be helpful to you in the future but maybe you can be their hero.”

“What?”

“Come now, nobody else would gather this little ragtag group just because we share an eye infection.”

“The only person I can think of who might’ve needed saving is Gale and I didn’t really do it because I wanted to be a hero,” she said. “And I suppose I tried to help you but you asked for assistance first and I wasn’t about to abandon some random vampire in the sun.”

“Well, you didn’t know I was a vampire then.”

She hesitated. “I really did. The eyes could have been drow parent or something but the fangs and the scar really gave you away.”

He chuckled so she hoped her words didn’t offend him. She didn’t know how he even felt about appearing so obviously like a vampire. If his appearance didn’t give him away though, she’d known the second he grabbed her and she felt the chill of death on her skin.

His lack of ability to lie when they found the boar made it even more clear.

She wanted to lace their fingers together but he’d moved his hands away, not even fully focused on her. Something in their conversation had confused him more than he cared to admit.

“You really are beautiful,” she chose to say. “I think it every day when I look at you.”

“Obviously,” he said. “Though it wouldn’t hurt for you to say it a little more. I’ve only heard those words from your mouth about four times which is nowhere near enough.”

She laughed. “Well, you are stunning. I can appreciate it even without our midnight visits.”

He sighed dramatically. “You know, with how against sex you are, I’m going to start to think you didn’t enjoy yourself at all.”

“I did but I just know you didn’t.”

He went still and she cursed herself for the thoughtless comment. She’d gotten too used to defending herself to the others by pointing it out that she spoke without intending to.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’ll never forget our night together. It was one of my favourites.”

Should she apologise? She wasn’t sure but before she could, he got up from his bedroll and smiled. After a moment of consideration, he pressed a light kiss to the side of her mouth awkwardly.

“Right,” he said. “I need to hunt before tomorrow. You should catch up on that rest.” And he left her alone, fingers brushing against the spot he kissed, wondering how she could fix this one.

Taglist: @cassiopeia-adaar , @yikes-buddy

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

[kingjullian-3]

This was a season of curses being broken. Jimmy through a technically was not the first to die. Grian as far as I’m aware did not kill or be the direct cause for an allied death. None of Scott’s allies this season won.

Lizzie was the first to die. Forgotten by the watchers, left to suffocate in the thin air of the void. Her death had been a complete accident not many people even noticed or felt sorry. Her death also wasn’t the start of chaos, but neither was Jimmy’s. He died during the chaos, and a watchers last ditch effort to see through a curse that shouldn’t have lasted.

Grian didn’t have many allies this season. The only real ones being Cleo and Etho. Every other season he has had a strong alliance almost the entire season. This time? It really wasn’t till session 4/5 when he made any real connections. However he still trusted Etho and Cleo as if they had been his allies the whole season, stayed with them despite his history. Everyone knows of Grian’s Icarus curse, doomed to cause a ally to fall. But they stood by him, never dying as a cause of him.

It’s common knowledge that in every other season, the winner had somehow been connected with Scott. The Flower Desert Alliance, Scott himself, Pearl was his soulmate, Martyn had been the other Mean Gill. Yet Scar never really had any real connection to Scott. Sure they got along, but I wouldn’t call that an alliance. Scar turned his back on anyone who sided with him in a way.

This season was more about healing than anything else. Curses were broken, more than just those 3. Joel didn’t have his signature red bloodlust (as far as I know). It’s also important to note the implication regarding the forgotten duo as I’ll call them.

Lizzie and Grian were both forgotten in a way. No-one showed up to Lizzie’s birthday party, A single person really cared that she had died. Lizzie has been forgotten by everyone. The watchers, listeners, and players alike. This ultimately lead to her unfortunate demise, trying to fill out a task given to her by Joel.

“He was never meant to be there, he was only ever meant to watch” that line alone sums up almost the entirety of Grian this season, especially session 7. During the curse of the boogey, they only thought of Scott and Cleo. Sure he was mentioned in passing, but no one ever really looked for him. Etho realised that Grian had been forgotten when he looked to the sky and saw the changed platform. His way of apologising was by letting Grian complete his task freely.

Grian watched carefully from the safety of the cobblestone tower as the rest of the server was in chaos. Hunting for allies and enemies alike. Never once looking up to the skies. Just as a watchers should be. Watching. Never getting involved and forgotten to do his own thing. Perhaps THEY had successfully done one thing this season after all

#grian #goodtimeswithscar #pearlescentmoon #ldshadowlady #life series #secret life #jimmy solidarity #martyn inthelittlewood #dangthatsalongname #scott smajor #this season made me so ill #AAAAAAAAA #I love how poetic the ending truely was

[buff-muffin]

List of Doflamgingo and Corazon headcanons cause doomed siblings

1. Both brothers have extremely expressive eyes, they got them from their father. You can always tell what their thinking by looking at their eyes. Dofi was aware of this from a young age realising he could never tell what his brother was thinking because his hair covered his eyes. So he started wearing sunglasses. This kept him from being readable and stuck with him all the way to adulthood. This however also impacted Rosi as the entire time he works under Dofi he wears glasses to not let his intentions be read and thoughts understood, but the second hes with Law alone after finding out hes a D he took them off and let himself be readable for Law if it made the boy feel safe.

2. Doflamingo was always rather strong for a child and that came from helping his younger brother out. There were countless times where Rosi wanted to hold his hand yet when he tripped he would drag Dofi down with him. So he got strong enough to be able to pull his brother back up and not be taken down with him

3. Rosi was super clingy when he was small. Before and after they suffered on the streets, physical touch was such a love language for him, Dofi while never fully comfortable with it, was always sure to hold him… Now Corazon hardly even leans on him. It makes an old wound of Dofi’s ache

4. When Corazon first reunited with Dofi and he had time to process the fact his brother had gone MUTE after what happened years ago. Dofi wasnt sure what to think. While he felt no guilt for what he did and put his brother through a part of him feels almost pity, thinking his crybaby of a brother managed to scavenge around on the streets and survive without uttering a word. He felt pity, maybe remorse yet pride. That his bumbling younger brother had grown strong

5. One thing Dofi found odd about Cora was why he didnt use sign language despite being mute. When asked Cora explained that he never found a reason to bother learning. After all its not like people are going to go out of their way to learn sign for a random hungry kid on the streets. Dofi made sure all the family knew basic and needed signs so his brother could communicate needs quicker. Things like ‘help’ ‘thank you’ and names.

6. The sign Dofi used to symbolise corazon wa s a fist over the heart that he would clench twice to mimic a heart beat. It always gave a twicted idea of squeezing a heart. Law on the other hand would knock on his chest slightly to the left as if to knock on his own heart, this was because on minion island it was getting hard for him to clench his fists and found that sign far easier. Cora loved it.

7. As much as Cora’s muteness made things more complicated. There was a power aspect of it that Doflamingo enjoyed. There was something about the fact he knew that that no matter how bad shit would get Cora wouldnt speak and he would not tell anyone of their life before hand made him feel powerful, in control. Cora could be kept on a close tight leash and that, in the end was the biggest reason he doubted Corazon to be the traitor. He truly though if his brother could not speak there was no way he could help the marines. Though the longer he was there and the realisation of his capability and strength slowly made him doubt that logic. Until he left and the marines stopped.

8. When they were children, Dofi was still a rather stuck up and serious kid, always waiting for the day he was an adult and could take charge. Rosi however was the only one who could make him laugh. It was this dark spell his brother always had in his back pocket. The faces he pulled, the little shows he put on all of it made Dofi laugh. Rosi pulled out all those same tricks to make Law laugh

9. It took Rosi a really long time to stop flinching at the sound of gun shots. While Sengoku was a reasonable parent and did not put Rosi though any kind of intense training until he was ready for it. Gunshots was one of the hardest things to help the boy overcome.

10. Rosi was always a quite kid. He was never particularly chatty or asked a lot of questions. Usually just making squeaks when he fell. But after what happened he was mute for a while with Sengoku. Afraid to speak up as his brother had found him weak for making noises crying. It took him a while and Sengoku was willing to work with him when he didnt speak, but Rosi found his voice and started speaking though still never often, When he ate the calm-calm fruit not much had changed in the talking regard

11. Rosi has used the calm bubble to scream and cry once in the privacy in his own room. Yes he knew what he signed up for as Doflamingo’s corazon. But that didnt mean his heart didn’t ache whenever he had to take lives or threatening innocence

12. Every time he had call check ins with Sengoku, Rosi’s voice would crack just a little, the lack of use taking its effect on his voice. Even Law heard it once or twice in the start of them travelling together.

13. Corazon originally had an identical feathered coat as Dofi, but between the fact it no longer made doflamingo look like the one on top, and Cora kept accidently burning the feathers. They switched him to black. Now no one can see the burn marks unless you really look

#been trying to find good fics that explore their dynamic IM STARVED #DOOMED SIBLINGS MY BELOVED #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #donquixote brothers #rosinante corazon #trafalgar law #donquixote family #one piece #one piece head canons #I genuinely love exploring the concept Dofi did love his brother #yes I spell it Dofi with an I suck my dick #I call him corazon when he’s undercover Rosi when he’s himself just fyi #rambles

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the bouquet

lilac, chapter six

a/n: those kind of wet dreams are the best for real... like a fucking spell has been put on you, damn....

summary: “they should really put a warning up on those, plucking flowers is a dangerous thing.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, no work gloves this time purely for the slutty need of hands, patching up a porch, wet dream, masturbation, townies thirsting over frank, pov shift (the end is from frank's), going to a bar, alcohol consumption, lots of pining

word count: 2253

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“H-holy shit,” you blew out a shaky breath as you blinked open your heavy lids to stare up at the ceiling of your bedroom. 

Haven stirred from a dream but moments before, the imagery your mind had coaxed you with had been so intense that you still felt half asleep when you woke. 

Half asleep and dripping wet.

Subconsciously, your hand had crept down below your pyjama pants before you’d even opened your eyes, determined to finish the job your fantasy had started. 

Tangled in the sheets, it felt like you were still dreaming, the powerful and alluring imagery possessing your mind making it impossible not to tremble in want and near the edge faster than you’d thought imaginable. 

But as your body laid there reeling in the afterglow, buzzing pearl sensitive beneath your fingertips, that’s when you truly woke and realised what, or whom, your carnal vision had been about. Who’s touch had felt so real, lips so sweet and words so honeyed… 

Squinting up at the blossoming lilac flowers, the sun shined directly into your eyes as you raised yourself up onto your tip toes to see if you could reach them. The lower ones already plucked and secure in your left fist, your fingertips barely skimmed the deep green leaves on the gnarly branches you were attempting to grasp. 

With an airy huff, you looked around the garden and quickly spotted a weathered fold-up chair that could no doubt grant you the necessary centimetres.

While dragging it over to the right spot underneath the blooming shrub, you feared that the old seat would be too wobbly for you to be able to balance on, though when you tried, it turned out to sink enough down into the grass to make the boost be just stable enough to hold you. 

After snapping a few of the flowers off the branches, you came across one that was much fuller and more striking than the others already in your grasp, though when you tried to give it a firm tug, the unexpected stubbornness of the twig caused you to let out a curse for why you hadn’t brought out a pair of scissors with you. 

“Come on,” you mumbled through your gritted teeth as you yanked at it, eventually leaning back to utilise some of your body weight, though when you did, when your spine reached a curved enough angle, that’s when the damn flower decided to snap off, sending you tumbling down to your doom. 

Though as you let out a shrill yelp, you never managed to hit the ground, as you instead fell into a quick pair of arms. 

“Wow, I’ve got you,” the deep voice alone caused your face to go flush. 

“Uh,” you blinked up into the eyes of the one and only man whom your brain had decided to have a filthy dream about just last night, “h-hi!”

“Are you okay?” his strong grip on your form caused the vivid fantasy to come rushing back with a vengeance.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes fluttering hazily, “I’m good, I’m great,” your chest heaved as you then haphazardly raised up the bouquet in your grasp, “you know, just getting some flowers for the tables and stuff…”

“Yeah, I can see that,” an amused cock to his brow swiftly appeared, “I’m gonna put you down now, okay?” he said clearly, in a tone as if you’d hit your head. 

Nodding fuzzily, “okay,” your hands, still tightly wound around the pastel blossoms, rested in support on either side of his broad shoulders long after he’d planted you back down on the ground. 

“You good?” his head dipped to search your features, fiery touch still lingering on your waist a moment longer before it faded away. 

“Yep,” you averted your gaze, awkwardly gesturing up towards the grand shrub, “they should really put a warning up on those, plucking flowers is a dangerous thing,” finally peeling your palms away from his radiating warmth, “but, uh, thank you for catching me.”

Tongue sweeping out in an effort to snuff out his beguiled smile, he gazed down at you and uttered, “any time.” 

“So, um,” you cleared your throat, recalling why he was actually here today, “do you have t-the wood?”

“Yeah, it’s in the truck,” he gestured back over his shoulder towards the façade of the inn where the dirt road ended, widening out into a small patch before the veranda of the building flourished, his loaded vehicle indeed being vaguely visible from back here, “but we don’t have to work on the porch today if you don’t feel up for it.” 

“No, no, I’m ready,” you hastily shook your head, shifting all of the florets into one hand, “there have been giant holes in that thing for as long as I can remember, so I am more than ready to bid them adieu.”

“Great, then I’ll just go get it while you finish this up.”

“Oh, I’m actually done, I was just supposed to get them for my dad,” you then heard yourself adding, “also, I can’t in good conscience make you carry that stuff all alone,” nearly poking him with the bouquet as you implored, “I mean, you’re already helping me out so much around here, it just wouldn’t be fair,” raising up a pleading finger, your feet then began to back up, slowly carrying you towards the backdoor, “just give me one second, let me run in with this real quick and then I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he offered you even a hint of confirmation, your stride took off, rushing indoors, chest heaving as you eventually caught yourself on the kitchen counter, though not from your speedy pace.

Settling the flowers down, your fingers grasped the edge of the cool tabletop, nearly doubling over as you sucked in calming breaths in an attempt to rid your body of the tingling sensations the lingering dream triggered.

When you eventually swung the doors back open, a purposeful shake of your clammy palms on either side of your frame was the last attempt you made to cool down. 

Shoving the passenger side door shut, paint-chipped toolbox acquired and firm in his hand, you walked towards Pete as he unlatched the bed of the truck where lengthy planks of wood lay stacked. 

“Hey,” you hesitantly called out as you neared him, his head rotating at the sound of your voice, “I just wanna apologise again for what happened that day at your cabin…” 

“Christ, not this again,” he set the toolbox down with a heavy clank, “Y/n, you can’t keep doing this.”

“But-”

“No,” he nearly chuckled, “you literally did nothing wrong! One was an accident,” he counted on his fingers, “we’ve already established that, and the other? Sweetheart, that’s not something you should apologise for.”

Brows knit tightly together, you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, “but I cried, like really cried, and dumped all of that shit on you…”

“You didn’t dump anything, you shared,” he countered, “hey, look at me,” dipping his head down to catch your tense vision, he then continued softly, “I know that it was uncomfortable for you, but that doesn’t mean it was wrong,” his wide palm reassuringly found the top of your shoulder, “it’s not wrong to talk about something that’s hard, that’s the kind of shit that helps you move on from it,” searching you edgy expression a moment, his warm touch then faltered in favour of the pile of lumber, sliding one of the long stacks out as he urged light-heartedly, “now shut up and grab the other end of this,” gliding it out far enough for you to grasp the other end. 

After curving halfway around the porch, you halted, “hold up,” fingers screaming out from the way the weight dug into your soft palms, “stop, one second,” you tried to prop your knee up under the many planks, “I just need to hold onto it a little differently.” 

Glancing back at you, “okay,” he muttered before the lumber gingerly swung away from you, careful not to collide with you as he unexpectedly hauled the long and hefty bundle up in a more secure hold on his broad shoulder, “I can also just carry these the rest of the way, if you want,” the nonchalant offer coming out as if the timber didn’t weight a thing at all.

“Uh…” your breath became a thing of the past as your eyes fixated on the way his burly muscles bulged under his rolled-up sleeves.

“I think maybe if you go back and just grab one or two on your own it won’t be such a pain on your hands. I mean, no offence, I’m just–” 

“No, that sounds great, you just–, uh,” your fumbling words cut off his suggestion as your feet already began to drag you back towards his truck, “I’ll go get some–, uhm, yeah…”

Dark hair gently falling down and tickling his brow, Pete’s eyes were fast on the plank under his broad palm as he fastened in two screws, securing the board and gradually patching up the gaping hole on the deck. 

Kneeling as well, your clutch on the other end of the slat didn’t do much in the way of holding it in place. Your whole body felt like jelly as you caught sight of the way the veins on the back of his hand popped out from the stain of pressing down on the buzzing drill, forcing the screw to embed itself into the wood. 

Lips slightly parted, you swore you felt your cunt clench around nothing as you fought the urge to let out an embarrassing whimper. 

Pete’s head barely raised as his index finger slacked its force on the bulky button, unceremoniously passing the power tool to you as he had done a dozen times by now so that you could take care of the task in the other end, “here,” though when you didn’t move to snatch it out of his grasp, his features perked up, “Y/n?” letting out a short whistle in order to snap you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” your pulse thumped between your thighs, “oh, thanks,” giving your head a swift shake before you seized the gimlet and huffed out a big exhale, hoping you weren’t blushing as hard as it felt like you were.

As you clutched the drill, screwing in a few bolts on your side of the porch, a voice from the garden caught your ears.

“You know, my second husband was a carpenter,” you spotted Donna right on the other side of the railing, wafting a bright floral fan mere inches from her amble bosom as if she was some saucy Victorian woman in heat, “I’ve always loved a man who’s good with his hands…”

Her obvious innuendo made you bite down on your grin in order to not burst out a laugh. 

Sucking in a controlled and mildly impatient breath, Pete averted his gaze and uttered formally, “hello ma'am.” 

“It’s awfully chilly these nights, don’t you think?” the rotund woman continued to brashly bat her eyelashes at him, “perhaps you could personally come fill up my stack of firewood? Help warm me up a bit?”

“Ma'am, I already informed you before,” he kept his tone polite yet detached, “I don’t do deliveries, I just drop firewood off at the market, but perhaps someone there could help bring some to you.”

Pushing the doors open to the unacquainted roadside bar Frank found himself at, he had no idea how long he’d been driving for, simply that the sky had turned black long after he reached uncharted land in his desperate attempt at clearing his foggy mind.

“Evening,” the proprietor greeted him as he slumped down at the bar, “what can I get you?”

“Just a beer,” Frank answered distantly, his head elsewhere as it had unfortunately become acquainted with ever since nothing short of an angel had walked into his life. 

“You’ve got it,” the bartender swiftly reached down into one of the compact coolers hiding back there and conjured an emerald flask, popping the lid off with an opener at his belt just before he slid it across the counter towards him, “here you are.”

Offering a courteous nod, “thanks,” Frank then began to drown his sorrows. 

The establishment was mostly empty, only he and one other customer on the other side of the bar acted as its sole patrons. 

“Hey,” the other man soon barked, “can I get a refill over here?” he lifted up his stout glass and tapped a ringed finger against the side, “and from the top shelf this time, I don’t want any more of this cheap hillbilly shit you try and call whiskey.” 

When the bartender obliged, unable to hide how visibly peeved the rude customer made him feel, Frank’s eye line followed the proprietor’s movements as he served up the drink, still lazily fixated as he handed it off into the boorish man’s inked hand. Swiftly downing it as he rose from his tall stool, Frank’s tired vision momentarily got a chance to rest on the reptilian tattoo that decorated the back of the stranger's right hand. His sharp suit rose up ever so slightly to reveal that the striking design curled even higher on his tan skin than what was visible, before he promptly slammed it back down, along with crumbled compensation, and left, the sound of a garish engine soon acting as his last and final farewell.

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst #the punisher smut

[thelov3lybookworm]

White Roses And Lies.

Summary: Rhysand and Y/n realise they might not make it to starfall. They make the most of what they have to celebrate.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: im convinced rhysie poo is going to murder me because all the fics i have ever written for him are sad 😇

Anyways, this is a lil smth for the third prompt for @starfallweek

(also you can all fault @thehighladywrites for making me hurt rhysie poo because she picked him to be hurt)

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n glanced up from where she was picking chamomile from the wild bushes in her backyard, her eyes squinting to make out the shape materialising out of nowhere.

"Rhys? Is that you?"

No sooner had the words left her lips that he appeared fully, stumbling forward.

A wide smile split her lips, and she moved too, just happy to see her lover.

It was just one moment before the two of them were wrapped in each other's embrace, but it was enough for Y/n to realise that he did not have the big smile he usually had on when he met Y/n.

He looked haggard, like he hadn't slept or eaten in decades, but what scared Y/n more was the fact that those were tear stains on his cheeks.

He crushed her to his chest, his arms wrapped so tight around her it was hard to breathe. Concerned, Y/n tried to push away from Rhys.

He wouldn't let go.

"They're hunting us." Rhys spoke directly into Y/n ear, pressing his face into her hair.

Y/n froze, her struggle to breathe now forgotten.

"W-what?"

If possible, he pulled her even closer. "My father. He told his courtiers to hunt us. You and me."

All of a sudden, it all clicked for Y/n.

She didn't even bother to pull away from him and ask for an explanation then. She just wrapped her arms around him, and let her head rest on his shoulder, under his jaw.

After all, she knew low born fae and high fae, especially a high lord's heir, were never supposed to even talk, let alone be involved.

She'd always known it was all a moment's bliss, but who could have faulted her for having hope?

"We were always doomed." She mumbled into the expensive fabric of his shirt, a tear escaping her left eye and staining the fine material.

She felt Rhys shaking his head against her, and her heart clenched when a torturous sob ripped out of him.

"Why Y/n?" He questioned, his voice wobbling and choked with tears. "Why us?"

She said nothing, because there was nothing to say. She simply rubbed his back, and let him cry.

"Why couldn't we have been an example that the class system was bullshit? Why could I not have had a better father? Why could I not have been born as a lower fae-"

"Rhys."

"Why did he find out about it? Why-"

"Rhys-"

"Why hasn't he fucking died yet? Why-"

"RHYS!"

He stopped then, stiffening a little.

"Rhys please." Y/n's voice broke, and he finally loosened his hold on her. She quickly drew in a deep breath, her first full one since Rhys had showed up, and looked up at him.

She did not let go of him, but leaned back so she could see him better.

"Its starfall." She smiled a little as she spoke, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say, as another tear escaped those eyes that had captivated her since the moment hers had met them.

"Exactly. I was planning on sneaking away to meet you once the stars started making the journey, and he found me. He broke my mental walls, and he found out."

Y/n swallowed, looking around for anything to help her. She found a flower staring back at her.

A white rose.

The white rose he had gifted her once he had started courting her, one she had decided to plant.

Quietly, she untangled herself from Rhys and walked over to study it. He followed her like she knew he would.

"Do you remember when you first gave me this rose?"

A smile bloomed on his face just like everytime she reminded him of that day. "I can never forget it."

Her face split too at the sight of his happy face. "Me neither."

He stared a the flower a moment longer, then turned to her, the look on his face knowing. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you?"

She grinned sheepishly. "I mean, whatever works, right?"

He laughed, the sound wet and full of sorrow, yet so full of joy as he sat back, his arms coming to rest on his raised knees.

"Y/n... I hope you know I love you. That no matter what tomorrow holds for us, whether they do hunt us down, I will love you forever. Even when I'm nothing but bones and dust in the wind, I'll be yours."

Y/n had to look away at that in order to stop herself from breaking down.

"I do. I love you too Rhys, more than you can know. More than words are capable of expressing."

Rhys glanced up, towards the clear sky, just as a star shot past.

His eyes lit up. "Look!"

Y/n followed his gaze, nodding and laughing at the childlike glee in his voice.

"Starfall has begun." Y/n mumbled, laying her head on his shoulder.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed. "This could be our last starfall."

Y/n sighed. "So let's enjoy it Rhys."

She knew he had a retort at the tip of his tongue, so she pulled away, meeting his eyes as she began pushing him to the dirt so he would lay down.

"It's our last starfall Rhys, so let us enjoy it." She stared at his eyes intensely to make sure he understood. "Hmm?"

He nodded, and she smiled again, laying down next to him, uncaring that her clothes were getting dirty as she lay her head on his chest.

His heartbeat was calm, so at odds with the erratic rhythm it had beat when he arrived.

And so, there, in the middle of nowhere, on the hard ground in front of Y/n's small hut, under the star filled sky, Y/n got lost in the soft sounds of Rhys's breathing.

And sure, those were the sounds of warriors and fae males who served the high lord coming closer, and those were definitely the barks of the hunting hounds, but here, nothing existed other than Y/n and her lover.

Not an heir, not a high born fae. Not a low born fae, not the scum stuck under the boot of the higher ups.

Just him, and her.

And as she felt his presence in her mind, grabbing hold of her conscious, she smiled and closed her eyes- the white rose twinkling in the light like an enchantment her last sight, a testament to their love- content and satisfied despite the unexpected and quick end to their story.

Go to sleep my love. I'll be there when you wake up.

Y/n didn't point out that she knew it was a lie, for right now, that was all she needed as she lost herself.

Lost herself in the sound of his voice in her mind, his scent in her lungs and his love in her heart.

•○🌑○•

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[grimbanes]

Six Months (Kaz Brekker x GN!HEALER! Reader)

Summary: “Kaz Brekker, I have seen you run with a broken leg, heard you scaled a building with a bullet lodged in your shoulder that I had to fix and you’ve concussed yourself numerous times with every nose you break- and now you’re telling me you can’t stomach a papercut?” OR : Kaz Brekker is sometimes a quiet softie if it means coming to see the reader, even in life or death situations. It takes the reader six months of service to realize they may or may not love him with their whole heart, and confession ensues.

WC: 3.8k.

Genre: Mostly fluff, maybe slightly ooc kaz?

TW: mentions of blood, usual six of crows warnings, injuries.

A/N: maybe a second part to yesterdays fic which you can read here, or just read this one as a stand-alone. The POVs have changed, i fancied writing something a little different, more personal to the ~feelings~.

It had been three months since you had the unfortunate task of bringing the Bastard of the Barrel back from the brink of death, though you were sure the stubborn young man would have crawled away from the reaper’s grips with a smirk on his face and blood seeping from every crevice - he was certainly stubborn enough to do the impossible. ‘Improbable’, you could practically hear him correct, eyes expectant of better and eyebrows raised in that condescending way he often did when he was the smartest in the room. 

It had been three months, you realised silently, still scratching away at the parchment you were writing on, ink drying on its smooth surface. Months under the protection of the Dregs. You didn’t join them, that was not an option you ever considered accepting. A life of crime was no different from serving the Second Army, only your General would be well-dressed for the sheer sake of mocking the rich. In that time, you had countless trips to the Crow Club and the Slat, tending to the wounded whenever summoned.

It was a simple agreement - protection and space to live on Dreg territory in return for mending their wounded whenever jobs turned sour or confrontation reached a violent conclusion.

You knew that the small flat you were given to live in above a little dress shop was not just for your protection, even if on Dreg territory. No, it was to make calling on you easier. Kaz Brekker could keep his second pair of eyes on you at all times. You knew you did not really have any privacy anymore, doomed to only socialize with Dregs or Dregs associates so really, you chose to keep to yourself.

Even when a certain Dreg rolled his way into your life, grinning wide and fingers held in the shape of his favourite tool.

Jesper Fahey adopted you as a friend and you were almost certain he was told to do so. To keep an eye on you, or maybe keep you safe. Both options were viable but fortunately, you were not a mastermind and you didn’t care to be one.

So when you received a knock at your door, you fully expected one of their young runners to be on the other side, note in hand with a little Crow etched on it. You knew why it was a Crow, just didn’t care to invest your life into it fully. You set your pen aside and dusted your hands off on your apron, carefully stepping up from your makeshift table and taking steps towards the rickety door barely hanging onto its rusted hinges.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet the usual young boy who gave you your summons, only for no greeting to roll off of your tongue.

In front of you, Dirtyhands himself towered. His gloved hands remained gripped to his cane, jaw tight and eyes a calm ocean, staring at you without the usual expectancy. Instead, he seemed almost relaxed, confident arrogance that often dripped from his well dressed frame present as always. He donned his long black coat, the collar turned up at the nape and shape fitting his figure as perfectly as usual.

Assessing the situation, you accepted it but that nagging feeling of oh no sat in the pit of your stomach. You had to be cautious - Why was he on your doorstep?

“Your services are required,” Kaz’s voice spoke in his quiet, rasping yet commanding volume, business as usual. Impatient.

“Of course, Mister Brekker. Let me grab my things,” You stepped away from the door, leaving it open for the man to enter if he so wished. It wasn’t much, your humble abode. Just a small bed tucked into a corner, a sad excuse for a clothing dresser and a makeshift table against the window with an old, collapsing stool for a seat. But it was enough for you, and you knew Kaz was used to such things, preferring it to the luxuries of Merchers and nobles. 

You paid him little attention as you turned to close the ledger from your day job, pen set into ink but you did note that he took off his hat as he entered, closing the door behind him with a small click and stepped his way to the small chair you had in the other corner beside a kitchen counter, making himself comfortable with his bad leg stretched out a little more than the other. He held his cane between his legs on the ground, fingers clasped to it tightly.

“Who got hurt this time?” You asked absentmindedly, a wicker basket set on top of your desk as you glanced to his still frame, his eyes already trained on you. 

“Me,” Brekker answered, shifting in his seat and setting his hat aside on the counter beside him, hand falling to touch his leg and you sighed, but the small smile on your face betrayed the exasperation you felt. 

“I didn’t figure you so clumsy, sir,” You subtly teased, stepping from your table once you realised you did not need to pack anything due to the fact you would not be leaving your home. You stepped to him, shirt sleeve rolled to your forearm and fingers rubbing together, hoping to remove the cold from them that your small little home often left.

The Dregs leader eyed you, unable to keep perfectly still, setting his cane down to lean against the wall and slowly began to bring his fingers to unbutton his glove. You could only watch with well masked surprise, the young man pulling at each finger until it was loose and he pried it off, offering you his slightly shaking hand, a frown pulling at his lips.

“It's uncomfortable to work like this. Fix it,” He ordered, turning his hand palm up and you studied his hand for any injury, unable to see one. 

As your eyes traced his pale, near luminescent skin, you came to stop upon a little slit in the skin of his index finger, from one side to the other and you fully understood what Kaz Brekker was asking of you. Please heal my papercut, it's annoying me. You didn’t laugh, but by the Saints did you want to. You stifled it and slowly, brought your eyes up to meet his own, noting the calmness of the ones staring at you even with the unsteady tremble in his fingers, the light sheen of nervousness painting his skin and you couldn’t help but feel a little endeared. 

“You could have shot yourself in the foot if you wanted to come see me so badly,” You teased gently, just like you often found yourself doing with him. He never replied to them usually, and only once did he ever roll his eyes at you. He just stared, lips pressed into a line and sometimes he hummed with a quirk of his brow. This time was different, the threat of a smile daring to pull at his sharp features and it felt more dangerous than facing a Dime Lion, you were convinced. You didn’t know how to handle Kaz Brekker smiling at you. 

“I couldn’t risk not being able to use the other leg too,” Kaz steadily jested, wit rolling from his tongue in a way he never did, the humour in his voice often only present when he was with his Crows and mocking Jesper, eyes twinkling with mirth and you almost swore you could taste your heart on your tongue, between your teeth. 

He didn’t even deny wanting to come see you.

“Kaz Brekker, I have seen you run with a broken leg, heard that you scaled a building with a bullet lodged in your shoulder that I had to fix and you’ve concussed yourself numerous times with every nose you break- and now you’re telling me you can’t stomach a papercut?” You exasperated, shaking your head despite the unsteady rhythm in your chest, unable to see the usual murderous bastard in Kaz’s face, daring to see a young man with an unfair amount of weight on his shoulders and that was a scary thought. Horrifying, even. You needed your morals, even in Ketterdam.

Brekker didn’t answer you to start with, just pursed his lips and his finger twitched a little, the rest of his fingers curling to his palm and just leaving his little wound out to you, eyes locked on it himself. It took him a moment but then he opened his mouth, words leaving you with a revelation;

“I don’t like the feeling of it.”

You didn’t quite know how to feel about it and even though it would normally be just a casual statement, it felt a little heavier, like it was harder for him to admit that something unsettled him so much that he had to seek out someone with the Small Science. You decided not to pry, not to tease, only to touch your hands together and then reach your hand out, ghosting the tips of two fingers over the little knick on his finger. It took mere seconds and the cut was gone but Kaz still trembled beneath the ministrations, nostrils flared with an uncomfortable exhale and you didn’t even want to know why he was so quiet. 

“There we go, all better, as if it never happened,” You spoke carefully, drawing his eyes back to yours and you knew you would take this little moment to the grave with you, your little secret. You would never tell a soul that Kaz Brekker did not like paper cuts. 

Except, Kaz didn’t stand to leave. He didn’t pull his glove back on, didn’t grab his cane. Instead, he got more comfortable in the little seat and rested his bare hand against his bad leg, eyes on you and that dangerous smile once again threatening his lips, meeting his eyes so subtly and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him. 

“Become one of my Crows,” It wasn’t a question, it was an order. 

You shook your head, lowering yourself into a crouch in front of him and tapping your fingertips together, you did your best to help ease the pain of his leg, hands hovering over his knee but never touching. You never touched him, if you could help it. You weren’t a heartrender, you couldn’t soothe his heartbeat or ease his mind, but you could numb it enough that the walk home wasn’t so miserable. 

“I won’t,” You answered, knowing full well that becoming a Crow meant joining the Dregs, meant that you’d be a grunt, you’d do small jobs, risk your life, even take them. You didn’t want that. As much as you came to adore Brekker’s little quirks, the silent glances of communication, teasing the man and him letting you get away with it, the beginnings of a friendship forming, the way your heart lurched when you heard the uneven tapping of his cane against the floorboards, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You had loyalties to yourself, after all. 

“You will, eventually,” He mumbled, leaning back in the seat and never once taking his eyes off of your form, his head tilted ever so slightly. Even in this lighting, midday painting him in golden, he was as handsome as the night he had almost bled out under your care. You didn’t know how he managed it, knowing full well he didn’t eat full meals or hydrate as much as he should, and didn't sleep nearly enough. 

“Mister Brekker, you’d have to be on your deathbed for that to even be a consideration.”

You didn’t know how right you were. 

┕━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

“Y/N! Quickly!” Jesper’s voice rang out, cracking, bringing your attention away from the printing press in front of you and with confusion, you tossed away your the paper in your hand and heard your own boots clicking and clacking against the stone floor before you even realised you were rushing out of the shop, job forgotten and keeping pace behind the sharpshooter.

You didn’t know what was wrong, you just knew that you were needed. Four months under the Dregs protection, you felt more like their protector or caretaker, tending to the wounded and keeping them fed. It was the first time somebody had come to you on shift, in your shop, dragging you away from the thing that paid your rent and kept your own stomach full. You didn’t know when you became so loyal to them, to him, but you did and couldn’t change that. 

So you ran, you ran faster than you ever had. You felt your clothes carry the wind, your hair pushed back from your face and the bitter chill of the Barrel on your skin as your chest heaved, legs carrying you as fast as possible as you went through alleys, down streets, pushing past as many people as you needed. Dread kept your legs from getting tired, pure adrenaline keeping your lungs full of air and you knew, you just knew. Kaz. 

Saints, you couldn’t handle knowing you cared so much about one person. 

You didn’t notice when you had overtaken Jesper, throwing the side door to the Slat open and pulling off your apron and desperately scanning your surroundings. You didn’t care about anything else, you just met the eyes that stared back at you, filling the room with a bit more ease.

“Y/N-” Wylan.

“Where is he?”

“His room-” Inej.

You didn’t listen to anything else, taking off up the steps and you threw yourself into the attic room. With hardly a breath, you dropped to your knees where he lay on the bed, pale as death could be and you cussed to yourself. You weren’t going to let him die. You stopped it happening once and you would do it again and again and again if it meant you could see that stupid boyish smile on his lips and hear a mean jest rolling off his tongue again. You worked too hard for it all to go to waste. 

“You’re stuck with me I’m afraid, Brekker. You’re not going anywhere,” You told him, earning yourself a grunt and his head turned, dropping heavily to one side and his eyes stared at you. Even he looked relieved. You didn’t even think to ponder on what that meant. 

Setting to work quickly, you healed the artery that had been cut, apron pressed to him to keep as much blood in his system as possible as you worked at sealing it, stitching the wound with your grisha power. The short time you’d cared for the Dregs, you had gotten stronger, better with your power. Things like this didn’t take as long as it used to, didn’t take as much energy out of you. You knew Kaz would live but it didn’t make it any less stressful to see him like that. And you didn’t want to ever again, you never wanted to see death try to pull him out of your life just as you had gotten used to him in it. 

“My Crow,” He uttered, rasping and breathless, the hint of teasing a whisper on his breath and you resigned yourself, eyes scanning his relaxing features and you nodded, never touching him. You were finished. He was fine. He was alive, sitting up against the wall and staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yes, Kaz. It seems to be that way. The deal is the deal, after all,” You pressed your lips into a small smile, submitting yourself to the reality that you had found yourself in. It seemed your morals could be set aside if it meant keeping this criminal’s unsavoury heart beating in his chest. 

And maybe, just maybe, Kaz was keeping yours beating irrevocably fast too.

┕━━━━━━━♔━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

At six months, you were a Crow, but not a Dreg. You didn’t join the gang, only really spending your time with a close inner circle or drinking by yourself after a long shift at the printing press. At six months, you were seated at the bar of the Crow Club, sipping your drink and enjoying the busy ruckus as men gambled their life savings right away.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Jesper sang, leaning over the bar beside you and grinning ear to ear, whiskey in hand and pockets stuffed with kruge. You could practically smell it on him - the money and the victory. You laughed softly, tipping your glass to him and then taking a sip, you turned your barstool towards him and gave him your full, undivided attention.

“Good night?” You asked, even though you knew damn well he had a good night. He looked ready to shoot the moon.

“Fantastic,” He answered, head tilting and cheeks splitting as he grinned wider; Jesper’s ringed fingers tapped against his dimpled cheeks, eyes watching you as they did when he was about to say something that he absolutely shouldn’t say. “How’s the boss?”

You should have expected it, really. That was the reason you were there in the first place. Your face began to turn many shades of magenta, you were sure. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you cleared your throat and stabilised yourself, sitting up straighter and doing your best to return the young man’s cheeky smile.

“I’m sure he’s fine, you would know you’ve been here all day,” You answered, leaning into the palm of your hand. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears with just the mere idea of him, his name not even having been spoken yet. Pathetic. 

 “And your eyes have been on him since the moment you practically ran through our front door,” Jesper shot back, chin jutting to where said young man had exited his office and was stepping down the small staircase that lead to the office, uneven gait leaned on his cane and he made his way to his usual perch near the bar, arm leaning against the railing with eyes locked on the floor - it was heartbreakingly charming to you, the fact he wore his usual attire of waistcoat and fancy tailored shirt, looking every part Kaz Brekker and it almost hurt to look at him. 

“Just making sure he’s alive. He’s been clumsy as of late,” You mumbled the excuse into the rim of your glass, sipping your drink but your eyes stayed on him. It wasn’t necessarily a lie but you knew it was foolish. Kaz Brekker was a criminal of the cruellest kind, had done unspeakable things to those deserving and undeserving and yet there you were, afraid to blink for fear he would disappear before your very eyes. The sole reason you choose to accept a life of crime and fix the worst kinds of people, those that didn’t always deserve to be fixed. Him included. But he deserved it. 

“He’s not going anywhere any time soon, doll. He might be as fragile, but he’s smarter than that,” Jesper nudged you with his shoulder, hands smoothing over your tensed fist on the surface of the bar and you turned to look at him, not even realising your own rigidness. You were grateful you had him to call a friend, always grounding you despite his antics. 

“I just don’t understand why I have all these… feelings,” You admitted aloud, turning your hand up in his to press your palms together. He tutted, shaking his head and tapping his fingers against your wrist, he offered the most eye opening fact you had ever heard in your many years of living;

“Love makes us into many things, sometimes better, many times worse. I know it makes him worse; a coward, a liar, sometimes a bit self absorbed, full of greed, selfish, but he could be so much worse,” Jesper offered, a kinder smile on his face as he leaned in to usher the words without prying ears.

You loved Kaz and you probably knew it. You probably thought about it every day when you woke up, when someone checked the time on their pocket watch, when someone handed you a kruge. You probably fell asleep thinking about it and yet it took a close friend to lay it out in front of you just what it was that kept you wanting to be near him, make sure he never cut his finger on a piece of parchment again, to heal his split lip and bruised knuckles. 

It was easily the most terrifying thing you had ever done: falling in love with a crime boss was not something fun, easy, or relaxing. It was that danger that you saw whenever the man smiled, the horror whenever he cast a joke or brushed his gloved fingers against your hand when he passed you, the glance he threw your way from across the busy room, the warnings that screamed at you when he leaned a little too close to you when you were mending flesh. It was the liability that caused you to keep your eyes on him at all times, making sure he was breathing. Attachment. Investment. Attraction. Commitment. All words that came to mind when you considered your relationship with Ketterdam’s, maybe even the world’s, most menacing, volatile, impatient and undoubtedly violent criminal. 

“Jesper, if I catch you flirting one more time…” The man’s voice carried weight, trailing with a silent threat and you realised that the very man tipping your world on its axis was towering over the pair of you, shoulders squared, jaw taut and eyes blazing with something unspoken.

“No, Kaz, it's okay. He wasn’t flirting he was just-” 

The man silenced you with a tilt of his head and the raising of a single dark brow. 

“Right boss, sorry boss. Should I just- Yeah let me just, yeah. Enjoy your night, I’m going to go do my job,” Jesper patted the bar, then the stool, awkwardly bowing and pointing, smile on his face and a wink thrown your way before he was spinning on his heel, arms wide as he cheered a greeting towards the door, sauntering his way to actually do what he was paid for.

Your attention was brought back to Kaz as the man slid into the very same seat he had just dismissed his friend from, cane set between the two of you and drink ordered, gloved hands folded on the surface of the bar. He didn’t turn his body towards you, but his eyes were on you, like always, a question swirling in his irises.

“You and Jesper…?” He seemed to trail off, finger tapping impatiently on his arm, gloved and tensed in his shoulders even as he swallowed thickly, mouth pulled down into a line.

“No,” You shook your head, turning your body away from him and towards the bar, sipping your drink with your heart pounding in your chest.

“You and… anyone?” He asked a little more quietly, eyes on his own drink as he swirled it in steady circles, the amber liquid sloshing at the bottom of the glass.

“No, Kaz. Just you,” You answered honestly.

Kaz Brekker remained silent, only nodding, bringing his drink to his lips and sipping it. No other words needed to be exchanged, and only you caught the ghost of a smile on the corners of his vile, cursed mouth.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker #six of crows

[earthstellar]

Warlord Ratchet: A Fascinating Concept 

“And to think, the Doctor of Doom’s mad quest for power continues...! His marauders pursued us to this planet’s orbit.” 

What gets me about Megatron telling Orion Pax that the current dilapidated condition of Cybertron was brought about by the Warlord Ratchet, Doctor of Doom (aside from the concept in and of itself) is that he also states that Ratchet has a legion of marauders who carry out his bidding 

and because marauders are raiders, and Megatron states they were “pursued by marauders” to Earth, the implication is that Ratchet is not on Earth himself--

-- which is smart on Megatron’s behalf, because this would deter Orion from potentially attempting to leave in order to confront Ratchet and instils a concern that perhaps marauders may appear at any time (at this point, Orion Pax does not yet realise that he is armed and is operating under the belief that he is still an Archivist and therefore not Warrior Class) 

but also, this gives us the incredible mental image of Ratchet milling around in some kind of rusted fortress made from the remains of several different Cybertronian buildings, quite possibly the remnants of Iacon -- maybe even the central hospital there, converted into a hive of terror 

still living on an otherwise uninhabited planet, with a loyal band of raiding troops who scavenge the remains of their world and possibly other planets as well (as we know these marauders supposedly have space capable vessels), quite possibly doing so in order to source spare parts and other various salvage -- Ratchet is a medic, who knows how he’s been having to piece together his army, repairing them from the remains of random citizens? 

and he supposedly, presumably either from his makeshift base in the shadows of Cybertron or from a war ship of some kind, commanded an army of raiders to chase Megatron and his followers as far away as Earth 

“I cannot imagine Ratchet capable of such horrors!” 

I can only guess at what Orion Pax was thinking in this moment, aside from his immediately stated disbelief: What drove Ratchet to such lengths? What happened to turn his compassionate, caring friend into a warlord capable of carrying out inconceivable destruction? How could such a thing occur, especially at the hands of a respected medic, someone he thought he knew so well? 

Would Orion Pax start to blame himself, for what was clearly the brutal decline of one of his greatest friends? I can imagine him starting to wonder if there was anything he could do, any signs of discontent, any indication that Ratchet was headed down a violent, dark path. 

And I’m sure he would be concerned about Ratchet himself, as well. How is Ratchet faring, nearly entirely alone on their planet save for his loyal bandits, as aged and worn as he ever has been, possibly accepting a lonely inevitable death on an already dead world? 

Or does Warlord Ratchet have yet more plans in store, his instruments of destruction poised to afflict themselves upon other worlds as well? 

The Doctor of Doom: How Could This Happen? 

It’s somewhat easy to dismiss the idea of Ratchet being this “Doctor of Doom”, because it so wildly opposes what we know of the character and what we know actually occurred with the war. 

But when you think about it for a little bit, an unhinged Ratchet would very much be a formidable opponent, especially with his social position in pre-war Cybertron giving him more immediate access to higher class/caste areas than many others would have been able to reach... 

...Perhaps this Warlord Ratchet was able to work his way into the Council’s good graces, possibly after attending to one of them after an injury and restoring them to health, gradually manipulating the Senate from the inside in order to secure more power, resources, allies, and ultimately the whole of Cybertron for himself-- Leading to a violent conflict which resulted in the destruction of their world? 

With his medical knowledge, even if he started out with a fairly small number of followers and whatever troops he could finesse away from the Council, he may very well have “built” some himself-- We do see in TFP that protoforms may be possible to manipulate into certain frame types, or some types of “cloning” may be possible. 

Any version of Ratchet without morals (or at the very least without any medical ethics) is a very dangerous Ratchet. 

Repairing the injured via patching them together with the remains of fallen comrades, creating a “zombie” army. Ghoulish, lumbering soldiers, marauders held together with armour designed for other frame types. Instructing his former colleagues (who would likely have at least started out with some inclination to follow him) to carry out “repairs” in such a way. 

Warlord Ratchet himself may have chosen to ingest dark energon much like Megatron actually did, perhaps out of a desire to create a new fuel source once Cybertron began to go dark and natural fuel sources began to dwindle. We already know that our actual Ratchet wasn’t afraid to test synthetic energon on himself, with similar motivations. 

His base of operations would quite possibly be Iacon’s medical centre, turned into a horrific hive-like structure, some wards actively still in use for repairs (at least for his own followers) and other areas dedicated to terrifying research, with supply basements full of experimental tech and defensive weaponry. 

Ratchet’s more support class (as opposed to warrior class) approach to things may well carry over to Warlord Ratchet’s approach to war-- An emphasis on intelligence ops, R&D, indirect and direct manipulation, initial political manoeuvring from within the existing system, and defensive systems to counter any munitions etc. that may come his way from opposing forces. 

His initial goals may well have genuinely been intended to improve Cybertron, to help people. Much like Megatron, back when he was Megatronus and wanted a more egalitarian, fair society. 

After working on lower class/caste bots who were nearly offlined from a lack of maintenance, poor to no access to healthcare prior to being dragged to him, etc. it may have been the catalyst for his decision to start using his upper class social contacts in an effort to change things from the inside out. 

Unfortunately, in this universe in which Warlord Ratchet rose to power, things may have derailed just as severely as they did with Megatronus and his initially well-intentioned efforts. 

The longer you think about it, the more plausible it could be. 

It would be easy for Megatron to build further upon this idea to manipulate Orion Pax, that Ratchet truly could have done this. 

I’m sure Orion Pax did not recharge well, his first night on the Nemesis. 

Where did things go wrong? What happened to his friend? How could he do this to their world, a world that Ratchet loved so much? 

--

IDK I just think “Warlord Ratchet” is an incredible idea, and I would have been totally fine if they did a whole season of TFP with the Orion Pax concept lmao 

also holy shit Ratchet in a built up fortress of a former hospital with a band of marauders under his command is such a powerful mental image 

[Screenshot: TFP Episode - Orion Pax, Part One] 

#tfp #transformers prime #megatronus #megatron #tfp megatron #tfp orion pax #orion pax #tf ratchet #tfp ratchet #maccadam #maccadams #warlord ratchet #me thinkin out loud again #long post

[prose-for-hire]

Evol (or, a backwards love story)

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Hey I love your spike x reader fics I was wondering if you could do one were like they both have a crush on eachother and he invites her over to his crypt but it's super fluffy and he makes it all romantic with candles and shit

Reader isn't a big fan of pink but doesn't like hate it or anything (just a heads up in case you love pink (like me) and it takes you out of the story).

Requested by: anon

A/N: Be kind please this is the first fic I've done in ages! Hope this is okay, love 💖

You had been in deep thought, your mind travelling ahead of you as your limbs tried to follow. But your wandering mind had led you down an unknown path. You had taken a strange turn somewhere and found yourself in unchartered territory.

You were at a crossroads, in almost pitch darkness. The streetlights had disappeared a couple of streets ago and you weren’t entirely sure where you were. You were fumbling through the dark now, trying to find something to hold onto, to anchor you.

You found yourself connecting with something, a figure in the shadows. You groaned, the last thing you needed tonight was to get eaten, your top was brand new. You recoiled slightly but a pair of steady hands righted you. He, of course, could see in the dark.

“What’re you doing round these parts, pet?” His voice came from the darkness, retracting his hands, a flame from his lighter ignited so that you could see.

“Got kinda turned around… I’m lost”

“Can’t have that, can we, love? If you’re not careful somethin’ nasty might eat you up” His eyes glinted with amusement, his lips curled slightly in that irresistible way he did. Even when he was being ‘evil’ he was attractive to you. You were doomed to fall for him.

“What did we talk about Spike?”

“Too much?”

“Only a little” you smiled despite yourself, now unable to look up from your feet. You were afraid that you would reveal too much, he could read you like a book. He always had, ever since you met a year ago.

It was tongues and teeth. Blood and sweat. You were backed against the wall, the vibrations from the music pulsing through you. You grasped the black t-shirt that clung to him so perfectly, the vampire you had only heard about.

You knew he and Buffy had faced each other on numerous occasions, you just happened to miss him each time. You had met them in college and had only known of the stories about William the Bloody at this point. But you always liked to judge people for yourself, anyway. And, well, you hadn’t realised how beautiful he was, you had been taken by him as soon as he stomped up to the bar and sulkily ordered a beer.

You heard voices through the crowd, through the headiness of that moment. Voices you recognised. You pulled away, your face a picture; as if you had seen a ghost. You weren’t supposed to be here,

“Go home” He had hissed, covering you as you slid away. Taking Buffy’s attention.

You should have known then he had a soft spot. Or, well, the potential for one. Usually he would have relished the awkwardness of Buffy walking in to find you kissing a vampire. Drinking with demons and beating them at kitten poker. But if he had the chance to do that again he wasn’t going to ruin it by getting the ultimate mood slayer involved, now was he.

But you hadn’t ever had any real time alone since. Sure, sometimes it felt like you were both the only people in the room but there was barely a chance to even allude to what you had done let alone reignite the moment again. Though he of course tried at every moment he got.

“Got have plans, love? My crypt’s only down the way” he spoke softly, almost tentatively if you didn’t know better.

“I’m late. I’m supposed to meet some… friends” You hesitated and you knew he caught it before you looked back into his eyes. Eyes you were slowly being lost in.

“Not those bloody losers again. You’re better than them”

“Those losers are actually my friends”

“Friends that you hide yourself from” He shrugged, not entirely able to drop it. He couldn’t hide his distaste for Buffy and the others.

Despite it all he gestured with his head, offering to take you to your friends. Even though you knew Sunnydale quite well after moving into your dorm a year ago and running around the town many times after (or often away from) demons, you still got lost a lot. It was a kind of running joke amongst the other scoobies.

He lit a cigarette as you rounded the corner, only pausing to offer you one which you declined with a soft smile. A smile that made him want to drop to his knees and declare his undying love for you. It pained him, how soft he was for you.

He shoved the other hand in the pocket of his duster, jaw tensing as he saw your friends speaking rapidly, apparently concerned about something. Willow noticed you first.

“We thought you’d been all ookified, we were worried!” She flung herself around you with a big smile of relief.

“You got lost, huh?” Buffy said with a smile, which quickly dropped when she noticed the company you were in.

“Yeah, Spike helped me get my bearings. Thanks, again” You grinned, despite Xander and Buffy’s distaste. Anya patted your head a little patronisingly at your habit of getting yourself lost.

“Anytime, pet”

“Yeah, right, evil dead is only good for being evil… and dead”

“Not that I’m not enjoying the boy’s wit, but I’ll be off now” He addressed only you, hoping to keep the barbs at his expense from the group to a minimum. Someone muttered something distasteful about Spike, which was of course in his earshot, but he didn’t turn back around.

“He’s, like, the lowest of the low.” someone agreed, shaking her head at the figure walking away.

You weren’t sure why that moment was the moment. Why you spoke something that had been so safely unspoken.

“Spike! Spike, wait-”

“Y/n, what’re you doing?!” your friends called after you, still in earshot as Spike ditched his cigarette and swung around to face you.

“Love, you go and do the friendship thing with the meddlin’ kids, okay? I’d rather stake myself than spend an evening with them”

“I know, I was wondering if the offer’s still on that is, well, I’m free tomorrow night”

He put both hands in his duster, rocking on the balls of his feet and looking down. It was as if he thought you were being cruel to him. Taking him up on his offer just to hurt him by rejecting him in the next breath with all your friends watching. He had to know you better than that, surely.

You reached for his arm, willing him to feel what you felt. Know what you knew. That you and him were meant for each other, that this chance that you were trying to take meant a lot. For someone you had kissed so passionately before it was strange how nervous you were suddenly at even grazing his skin.

“After sunset, tomorrow at your crypt?” You asked softly, though the vulnerability in your voice bled through. He saw it, he saw that your intentions were pure. There were some gasps and some vague unimpressed whispering from your friends behind you but you couldn’t bring yourself to take notice.

Instead you waited with bated breath for his answer. You knew he had offered earlier but there was always the chance he was doing it to tease you. That he had no interest in you. That he was playing with you, looking for something quick and easy. You could do that, of course you could, if it meant being close with him. But it may just break your heart beyond recognition.

This purgatory, which only lasted a second, felt like it lasted hours. Your grip on him tightened, as if you were afraid he would slip away from you.

He nodded, to anyone else it probably looked as if he wasn’t bothered. What he didn’t know was that you could read him in the way he did for you. You saw the slight upturn of his mouth before it disappeared, you noticed the way his eyes searched you with wonder for a fraction of a moment. You knew then, for sure, he felt for you as deeply as you had started to fall for him. Everything you had learned about him you held close, collecting it as the most valuable treasures.

You arrived the next night a minute after the sun set and promptly knocked on the door of Spike’s crypt. You could hear some scuffling about from behind the door and a lot of a British accent muttering ‘bloody bollocks’ every so often which made you smile softly.

You waited patiently until he swung the door open, allowing you to walk in. You gasped, he had transformed the main level of his crypt for the evening. There were candles everywhere, on every single available surface and surrounding the sofa where there was a couple of blankets piled up and a stack of VHS tapes.

There were wilted roses that had shed their petals all over the floor beside the TV set and you tried to ignore the high probability that these came from a few of the graves surrounding the crypt. Stuck haphazardly to the walls were pink and red hearts made from crepe paper and various strips hanging about.

I mean, it was a huge fire risk but you tried to ignore this fact as you appreciated his scattered decorations. You assumed that Spike was ensuring you were aware that he thought of this as a date.

“How was your night with America’s most haunted?” Spike asked, you could tell he was genuinely interested if you had a nice evening after he left you at the Bronze.

You told him everything in complete detail, you were a keen storyteller and he adored this about you. You spoke in such detail that he could picture himself there beside you as the night played out.

“Drink, pet?”

“Please”

You looked around as he started rummaging around with bottles and glasses. You read the words on some of the hearts, your brow furrowing slightly.

“EVOL? I think it’s spelt-”

“No, love, it was meant to be- they’re from the craft store. They, well, I didn’t want it to scare you off now did I?” He turned the heart around, the word was actually ‘love’. He hadn’t wanted you to think he was coming on too strong so he had hidden the word. Though the rose petals and the various pink and red crafts might well have done that if you hadn’t realised how deeply you felt for him.

You laughed, you couldn’t help it. You hadn’t been sure if he was making sure that all this romantic stuff didn’t take away from him being bad. Telling you he was ‘evil’.

He passed you a glass, different from usual where he would just drink straight from the bottle. You were surprised to note that it was your favourite drink. It was incredibly endearing that he had learned this about you, or perhaps it was his favourite and you just had that in common.

The glow of the candlelight accentuated his features, casting shadows from his cheekbones. You felt yourself leaning into him as he spoke animatedly, it was entirely involuntary. When you thought about it, you had done everything in reverse. You were tentatively courting after sharing a much more passionate moment the night you properly met. You much preferred it this way though, in some ways it cemented now just how much Spike had grown to care for you through the stolen moments you had together through the year.

Quick glances and lingering touches. The way he had thrown himself in front of a demon to ensure you would be safe. The way he always offered to walk you home, even if he was shot down every time by the slayer. He always made jokes in the hope that you would laugh.

The evening was lovely, you shared drinks and watched films together, while Spike made biting commentary on each scene. You were wrapped in a blanket while he stayed room temperature. He sat a little more rigidly than usual, seemingly unable to relax. He wanted the night to be perfect. He was concerned he might say something wrong, something a little too murderous and off-putting.

You hadn’t really been paying attention to the film. He had done everything to try and prove he was a man worthy of your love. You could sense he was holding back but you loved him for who he was, the flaws wrapped into the thread of his personality were just as important to you.

“I really like you, Spike. You don’t need to impress me, you know that right? I’m already yours, if you’d let me be” You spoke barely above a whisper. He turned to you, searching your face before a smile grew slowly on his lips. It was a smile you had only ever seen him give to you.

“You’re tellin’ me I can take all this sodding pink bollocks off my walls now then?”

“I mean, it’s a real improvement from the cobwebs but it’s not really my colour,” You grinned, pressing your lips to his quickly before pulling away.

You leaned against him as the night progressed, leaning your head into the crook of his neck. He shifted as you moved down the sofa so that you could comfortably rest against him. He inhaled, savouring your scent. It felt like home. He closed his eyes, focusing on your heartbeat thrum steadily. You were truly here, by his side.

Your body was made to fit beside his, you knew this as if it was fact. You couldn’t imagine a future where you wouldn’t hold each other. Or share moments such as this. The warmth from the candles and the care and attention that Spike continued to show you told you that his feelings at their core were clearly no act, his execution had been slightly exaggerated only because he hadn’t really dated in the usual way for a good few decades.

He slid his arm along the headrest behind you and you settled into watch the next movie. After a moment you realised his eyes were still trained on you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. When you looked at him, giving him a quizzical look, he just gestured back at the screen with his head a soft smile on his face.

If this was the first proper date, you were looking forward to the rest. In fact, as his arm snaked around you and pulled you close, you were not sure you would ever be ready to leave.

#spike btvs #spike x reader #spike x you #spike imagine #spike btvs x reader #spike btvs x you #spike btvs imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #btvs imagine #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #btvs x reader

[shittyassffblog]

I'll be home for Christmas

Noah Sebastian x Reader

I recently saw some interview where Noah said he doesn't really go home for the holidays, so I decided to insert myself into that lol.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Noah smokes a cig (cause I saw a picture of him doing that at some point and decided to include it), tell me if there's more!

Also this was written months ago but I just didn't think a Christmas fic in September was really that fitting lol

Snow was falling outside your window as you listened to Noah streaming. It was an old stream, but he was in a plane on the way back home from Europe, so you couldn't talk to him. Anxiety filled your chest thinking about not talking to him. It's not like you were completely lost without him, you just didn't want him to die in a plane crash. You used to track his flight on an app on your phone, but after all these years of being friends with him (and having a huge crush on him) and him touring you learned to not get too caught up in your anxiety. Almost.

His voice from the old stream playing on your laptop, him laughing brought you back to reality and you realised it was 1 am. You decided you might as well go to sleep since he wouldn't be landing until 7 am the next day. You were flying out to LA in a couple of days, meaning the 24th of December, and you couldn't wait to see him. He didn't know you were coming, you had made sure of that, getting the rest of the band to make sure he knew absolute nothing about it.

He wasn't going back home, he had decided to just stay in LA and work on the music while the rest of the guys went home to their families. You felt bad for Noah, not having anyone to go home to. You had offered months ago to let him come to your house but he, in his words, 'don't wanna intrude'. So you folded and planned out your surprise for him.

You got up, went to your bathroom and washed the make up off your face. As you dried your face you looked at your reflection and sighed. The anxiety wouldn't leave your body and you just knew sleep would be hard to come by tonight. You brushed your teeth and exited the bathroom, turning off the lights on the way out. Walking back into your room you paused the stream and closed your laptop and set it on the floor beside your bed, getting under the covers.

As you suspected, you wouldn't sleep for the next 2 hours, finger hovering over the app icon for the flight tracker app on the last page on your Home Screen. You decided against it, and chose to doom scroll Reddit instead, falling asleep reading about someones asshole mother in law.

--

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing on your glass nightstand, the vibrations your phone making the glass ring loudly in your ear. You grumbled and protested the sound, but to no avail, so you gave up and grabbed the phone. Looking at the screen you saw Noah's happy face smiling back at you. He was FaceTime-ing you and you accepted the call, his face showing up shortly after.

"What do you wanttttt" You said grumpily. His face was really close up to the camera and he looked goofy as hell. He pulled the phone from his face to smile at you.

"Just wanted to ease your anxiety, I know you don't do well with that." He said and you couldn't help but smile at that.

"Well I was sleeping so I wasn't anxious was i." You said in a teasing tone. He chuckled lightly.

"Should I go then? So you can sleep?" He asked, softening his voice.

"No I won't be able to sleep anymore. I'll probably sleep in an hour though." You said, pulling yourself up in a sitting position.

"Good morning sunshine!" He said and you chuckled a little.

"Had a nice flight?" You asked, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the sleep.

"it was alright, slept most of it though. Jolly went home to Sweden so he's been home for hours, wish that was me." He said laughing a little.

"What about the others, did they fly with you?" You asked, resting your head on your hand.

"No they went straight home to Virginia so I was all alone." He said. You could sense some sadness in his voice, but you knew if you mentioned it he would just deny it so you let it be.

"Well good thing you woke me up then, I can keep you company. And you me, while I make pancakes." You joked as you pulled the covers off of you and went into your kitchen.

"Oh yay." He deadpanned and you both laughed.

-

"Do you think I would look good with a neck tattoo?" You asked and Noah snorted.

"Why would you want that?" He asked.

"You have one! Multiple!" You said incredulously.

"I'm also in a metal band! and have tattoos everywhere else! You hav like, 6 tattoos and they're all stick and poke" He said and you looked at him. He had a point.

"Well just you wait until I get my hands on a tattoo machine, I'll have more tattoos than you before you even know what hit ya!" You said turning your attention back to the drawing you were working on. You heard his chuckle through the phone and it brought a smile to your face.

"Are you sure I shouldn't ask Nick if he could give you some tips? Help you start? You know he would love it, he could be your mentor!" Noah asked, eyes wide as if he had come up with the cure for cancer. You had thought about it, but you never felt like you were good enough to be an apprentice.

"No it's okay Noah. I'm not even sure if I'm good enough for that." You said, the drawing on your iPad taking shape. Without noticing you had drawn Noah from memory (and with some reference to the picture on your phone screen), and it was turning out really good.

"Of course you are! I've seen your drawings, they're really good! Better than most tattoo artists let me tell you that." He said and you both chuckled.

"Yeah well I'm still not sure." You said and he made a little 'hmpf' noise that you of course mocked. Silence fell between you as you concentrated on your drawing and he his computerscreen which had Logic booted up. He was working on new music when you had called and he told you it was good you called, since he hadn't drank any water or went to the bathroom in a few hours.

You started on his hair, the way it swooped across the top of his forehead and how it waved. Then his eyebrows, and how perfectly shaped they were with so little effort. His stubble, which was showing through right now as he sat staring at his own screen, the light from it illuminating his face with a soft glow. He was wearing glasses, so the screen was mirrored in the reflection on them. You always liked his glasses, they were very round and kind of feminine but they suited his face well. You were lost in your train of thought when a loud noise erupted from your phone and Noah was gone.

"What happened? Noah?" You asked, concern lacing your voice.

"I'm okay! Just fell off my chair." He said laughing. You started laughing too.

"This is why I tell you to not tilt on your chair!" You said between laughs.

"I know I know, I just get distracted sometimes." He said. "It really hurt though" He said, but a smile was very present on his face.

"Want me to blow on it? Kiss it better?" You said teasingly, shaking your head.

"That actually would be very nice," He said softly.

"Shame I'm so far away though." You said, knowing full well you'd see him the day after.

"Can you like, fly out here?" He asked, an expression on his face you very rarely seen. Only on occasions where he was talking about his wildest dreams had you seen such a look. It made your heart soar.

"'Fraid I can't sweet, gonna go see the family." You said, trying to keep your face as normal as possible.

"That sucks...I mean, not for you, you get to see family, but I don't get to see you." He said, looking down at his keyboard.

"Maybe if you make a Christmas wish it'll come true." You said, smiling lightly.

"Alright, cringe." He scoffed and you both laughed.

"Anyway I gotta go to bed. Hope the song turns out good." You said, smiling at him.

"Yeah yeah I won't keep you. Safe flight and text me when you land okay?" He said, reaching for the end call button.

"Yeah of course." You said. He smiled a small smile and ended the call. You felt a little bad lying to him, but you knew you'd see him in about 10 hours, even if he didn't know that. You just hoped he went to bed before that. You decided to text him to go to bed just in case he forgot.

Go to bed btw. Before you get square eyes from staring at that screen.

You put your phone down and packed the last of your stuff. After a few moments you got a text back.

Excuse me m'am but I am already in bed.

You laughed as he sent the picture and liked it.

Good boy.

You put your phone down and went to get to bed before leaving for Los Angeles in the morning.

-

"This is the final boarding call for flight 372A to Los Angeles departing from Gate 3"

You hurried along the long walkway down to your gate. You tucked your carry-on along after you and had your boarding pass in the other hand with a panicked expression on your face. You were gonna make it, your anxiety just wanted you to believe different.

"Hi I'm here I'm here!" You called as the last few passengers were boarding and the lady at the doors smiled tightly at you. You handed her your boarding pass and she looked at it and scanned it. It was 6:45 in the morning and you were so tired you had fallen asleep in an airport café and woke up to someone shaking you for your seat. You had looked at your watch and shoved the rest of your croissant in your mouth before grabbing your stuff and speeding off to catch your flight.

"There you are miss. Safe flight." The lady said and you muttered a quick 'thanks' in her general direction before hurrying into the plane. It was surprisingly empty for the 24th of December, but you still sat in your own seat in the middle of the plane by the window. It was still dark, but you couldn't wait to see the high up view of New York as your flight sailed through the sky to sunny LA. You enjoyed the view as long as you could but eventually you started yawning twice in a minute so you put in your AirPods and wrapped your blanket around you and tried to fall asleep to a Christmas jazz playlist you had downloaded. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep to the soft piano playing in your ears and before you knew it you were awoken by the flight attendant telling you that the plane was landing soon.

You packed your things again and waited until the plane was safely on the ground to turn off airplane mode and see three texts from Noah.

When were you landing again? I forgot.

I miss talking to you seriously. I'm just gonna go to bed again until you land.

Okay seriously wtf why is your plane so slow?

You chuckled at the last one and locked your phone so you could exit the plane. You decided not to answer him, deciding that knocking on his door would be the best way to tell him you landed safely.

Even though the plane was pretty empty it didn't mean the airport was. It took you easily 40 minutes to get your luggage but you decided to just be happy it was there and went to get a Christmas drink from Starbucks.

Exiting the airport you were affronted by the heat compared to New York. You took off your sweater and booked an Uber on your phone to Noahs house. Soon after, it arrived and you got into the backseat after putting your luggage in the back. You said hi to the driver and asked him if you could play some Christmas music. He smiled and obliged, wishing you a merry Christmas, which you returned with a smile. It took about 45 minuted to get to Noahs house so now it was 11:45 and you hoped Noah would wake up soon.

You arrived at the address you had given the driver, and tipped him extra for the inconvenience of driving on Christmas Eve and he thanked you profusely while emptying the trunk from your luggage. He drove off and you turned your head towards the door to Noahs house and smiled. You walked up to the door, took a deep breath and rung the doorbell.

Nothing.

You tried again.

Still nothing. Was he not home?

You tried ringing it five times in a row and soon you heard heavy footsteps trotting to the front door, Noah grumbling before opening the door.

"what in the hell- Y/N." He said, first angry but his expression softened when he saw it was you.

"Merry Christmas!" You said, smiling widely. He still didn't react.

"I'm sorry, am I still asleep and this is a dream?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Nope, I just lied a little, but I thought it was worth it." You said, hands behind your back and turning slightly to the left anf right. He started to smile, and then, before you could realise what happened, he ran out the door and grabbed you around your thighs to lift you up and swing you around.

"How did you get here? you should have told me, I would have picked you up? Oh my god I'm so happy to see you!" He said, putting you down and hugging you so tight you barely could breathe.

"Oh I can take an Uber, if it means I can get a hug like that." You said, removing some of your hair from your face. He looked down at you in adoration and you felt a tiny burst of butterflies in you stomach.

"Well what about your family?" He asked and you rolled your eyes.

"You're the only family I need." You said and he smiled even brighter. He took your luggage from your hand and then took your hand, dragging you inside the house. Harper came running to you, eager to say hi and you fell to your knees to give her a proper rub behind her ears.

"I'm not the only one who missed you." Noah said and you smiled up at him. He had this expression on his face that you hadn't seen before. It was like some sort of clarity or realisation.

"You okay?" You asked as you stood up and he nodded.

"Yeah I'm just really happy to see you. Did you have breakfast?" He asked and turned around and only now did you realise he wasn't wearing anything but underwear. You cleared your throat and sat yourself at the kitchen island.

"No I didn't wanna eat airplane food at 7 am." You said chuckling.

"Well good, cause I was gonna make pancakes." He said smiling back at you. You looked around the living room and noticed there wasn't a tree anywhere.

"Where's your tree?" You asked and he glanced back at you with a guilty expression.

"Noah Sebastian where is your goddamn tree?" You said, and he turned around.

"Look I didn't see the point in getting one when it was just gone a be me and Harper!" He said, hands up in defence.

"That's it, after we devour these pancakes, you're gonna get changed and we're gonna have a Christmas Day together." You said, slamming your hand on the marble countertop.

"Okay, and what does that entail?" He asked, pouring batter onto a pan.

"We'll get a Christmas tree, get decorations, get mulled wine-"

"I hate mulled wine"

"We're gonna get mulled wine and we're gonna get some presents to put under the tree so it'll actually feel like Christmas." You said, and he could hear from your tone that he didn't have much of a choice.

"Alright fine. But I'm not putting on a Christmas sweater." He said.

-

A few hour later you were heading out of the door, Noah and you wearing a Christmas sweater each. Noah went to open the door for you and you said a short 'why thank you sir' and it took him just a second too long to start walking to his own side of the car after he closed the door for you. You shrugged it off as nothing though.

You were driving to the nearest Christmas tree market after you got some hot chocolates. You got out of the car and Noah cam around the car to wrap his arm around your shoulder as you walked Amon the tree trying to find a good one.

"What about this one? You asked Noah. It was a beautiful 6'6" tree that was full and green.

"I can't have a tree taller than me, that's embarrassing. Also do you know how much decoration we would need to buy to fill up that tree?" He said, pointing at the tree with his hot chocolate in his hand. He took a sip and continued. "Can't have that, we gotta find something smaller." You sighed and kept walking.

"This one however," He said, walking over to a smaller but still as full tree as the one before. "This one is perfect. 6 feet even probably, that's way better." He said smiling.

"Told you you needed a tree, look how happy you are!" You said grabbing his arm. You noticed it had gotten bigger since you last saw him a few months ago.

"Well I didn't say I didn't need one, just that I didn't see a point when it was just me." he said

"And Harper." You added.

"And Harper. We need to get her a present too." He said as he waved over the guy who cuts down the trees. "We'll take this one!" He said gleefully.

"As you wish sir!" The guy said and happily took the tree to get it packaged. "This your first Christmas together?" he asked Noah.

"Yes, is it that obvious?" Noah asked laughing as he swung his arm around your shoulders again.

"Well the Christmas spirit is wild this year, so many new couples have their first Christmas together." He said laughing heartily. You blushed thinking he thought you were a couple but neither you nor Noah said anything. You held Noah cup as him and the guy got the tree fastened to the top of his car and you drove back home to drop it off before going shopping.

"Okay let's give each other 30 minutes and whatever we find in those 30 minutes are presents to each other. Then we'll find a present for Harper together." Noah said and you nodded. You went your separate ways and started hunting for presents. You decided to head to a music store, and find some new strings for Noahs guitars, some picks and a kazoo, just for fun. You then went to a few clothing stores and picked up a few pieces you knew he would love. You then wen't and got some Liquid Deaths from the kiosk. You had 5 minutes left so you decided to go to the bathroom before you had to meet Noah again.

While you were there you overheard some girls talking outside the stalls.

"Oh my god I can't believe we met Noah! Fucking Noah Sebastian." said one of them.

"Yeah! Oh my god he's so hot I can't believe it." The other said. You chuckled quietly at that.

"Like I'm actually gonna cry the day he gets married, did you see what he was buying? He definitely wasn't buying that for himself." The first one said. You wondered what he was buying that clearly was not for himself.

"Oh he for sure has a girl. She's so lucky. Just glad we didn't catch him in Victoria's Secret, my heart wouldn't have handled it." The second one said and they laughed as they exited the bathroom. You couldn't stop smiling as you washed your hands and grabbed the bag full of his presents. You felt your phone vibrate as you got out of the bathroom.

Hey you done soon? I've been waiting ages!

You laughed and sent back a text.

Alright calm your tits, I was just in the bathroom. Where are you?

You walked slowly as you waited for him to respond.

By the entrance, come on we have to get to target too.

You smiled big at that, he knew you loved Target more than any other store. You skipped along until you reached the entrance and Noah waiting just outside, smoking a cigarette. You didn't like to admit that you found it kinda hot when he did that.

"Hey, ready to go?" You asked as you came outside.

"Yeah, let's go!" He said, putting out his cigarette and throwing the bud in the trash.

You walked to his car and you noticed two girls staring at you. You smiled to yourself and wrapped an arm around Noahs waist, his arm automatically wrapping around your shoulder. You felt so safe in his arms.

Next stop was Target which took you at least another hour and a half to get through, but they had a lot of cute Christmas decorations that you had decided Noah absolutely couldn't live without. While you were there you found a cute plushie for Harper that she would no doubt devour within a week. As you got out of the store it was already getting pretty dark and you thanked yourself for buying food while you were there.

"I feel absolutely exhausted." You said as you buckled your seatbelt to drive home.

"You can just go take a bath when we get home while I get dinner ready." Noah said and smiled towards you. You nodded and smiled back at him, while putting on some music.

When you got home you tried to help Noah unpack, but he just shooed you away with your new bath soaps that he helped pick out. You started the water for the top as you went back to Noahs room to pick out the clothes you were gonna wear afterwards. You decided on a nice shirt, since it was Christmas Eve after all and long black skirt to go with it. And since you were feeling extra christmassy, that's what your underwear conveyed too.

You went back to the bathroom and turned on some music on your phone as you relaxed into the water. While you relaxed you thought about the amazing day you had with Noah and how happy you were to be here. Much better than being back home in Iowa, where your parents would have nothing else to talk abou than how boring your life was to them. You decided not to think about that, and Instead thought about how Noah would react to the presents you got him and what he might have gotten you.

You could feel yourself get happier and happier and decided to empty the bathtub and just shower normally, so you could go help Noah in the kitchen.

When you walked into the kitchen you watched as Noah hummed along to the music he had put on, while swaying his body in time with the rhythm.

"You need any help?" You asked and he yelped in shock. He turned around, clutching his heart.

"Jesus Y/N, you scared me! No I'm good, just sit your pretty butt down and I'll do the rest." He said shaking his head at you. Despite the fake-hard tone in his voice you blushed when he called you pretty.

Soon after, the dinner was ready and Noah joined you as he gave you your plate.

"Dig in, I hope it tastes good!" He said cheerfully and you obliged happily, being hungry from all the Christmas fun you'd had that day. The food was good and you sat and talked about the different things that had happened that day.

"And then I met these two girls that were fans of Bad Omens so that was cool." Noah said and you laughed a little. "What?" he asked and you finished chewing so you could tell him what happened in the bathroom.

"So now I'm really curious what you were buying that so obviously weren't for you!" You said and you both laughed.

"Well that will have to wait for tomorrow. You wanna decorate the tree now?" He asked and you nodded excitedly. He gathered your plates and yet again he waved you away when you tried to help. You decided instead to unbox all the decorations for the tree so you could start decorating. When he was done with the dishes he joined you and you put on the Christmas jazz playlist you had listened to on the way here.

"I didn't know jazz was your thing?" Noah asked and you shrugged.

"It has its good sides. Bringing Christmas vibes to a place where it doesn't snow is one of them." You said and he chuckled at that. After the tree was nicely decorated, you sat down with a beer each and admired your handiwork.

"Oh wait, forgot something." Noah said and got up. You knew what he meant when he showed you the star you had picked out earlier.

"Of course, how could we forget?" You asked as you got up as well.

"Do you wanna do it?" He asked.

"No we can do it together." You said, holding the star on the opposite side he was. You both smiled as you placed the star on the top branch. Neither of you were letting go, but your stare was directed at each other.

"Y/N, I think I have something to tell you." Noah said and you looked down at his lips. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. You decided to take a leap.

"Why don't you just show me?" You asked, looking back at his eyes. They were wide and hopeful, and you swore you could get lost in the darkness of them. He inched closer to you, so you did the same. You could feel his breath on your face and your own hitched, not sure if this was dream or reality. You lips touched and you melted into each other. You hands let go of the star in favour of holding each other, and in the glimmer of the string lights your hearts found each other at last, your lips moving together and the only thing except soft piano and the sound of your lips moving together was heard.

When you finally parted, you only moved so far apart that you could see each other.

"Was that clear enough of an answer?" You asked and you both started laughing in the glee of finally being truthful with each others feelings.

"Yeah I think that's pretty clear, but I might have to have you repeat it, just to be sure." He said and you kissed once more.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #christmas fic #holiday fic #my fics

[ciellunee]

I DON'T DESERVE LOVE

Pairing- Kento Nanami x reader

Genre- angst, smau, hurt/comfort

Synopsis- Nanami is exhausted and snaps at his girlfriend, making him question if he's even capable of her innocent love?

It was almost 11 PM, and nanami was still not home. You were lazing on the couch, waiting for him to return. Nanami has been a little too busy for the past 2-3 months. You and Nanami have been together for almost 3 years now, and the past few months haven't been the best for the two of you.

Every time you tried talking to him, he'd get really frustrated and snap back at you. You understood his anger and frustrations were due to work stress and let him be.

It's been 13 days since you and nanami held a proper conversation even though you share the mansion. You missed him, his tired face made you worry and you became anxious and depressed. You wanted him to leave the job and find another one, a job that doesn't Overwhelm him like this, but you were too scared to present your views. However, today, you finally decided to voice yourself. This relationship isn't going to doom because of a stupid job!

You knew he didn't mean it. Kento wasn't one to ever hurt you on purpose, let alone make you cry, but today..... it was different.

You want to understand kento tonight aswell, you want to be a doll for him tonight as well. You want to drag yourself to the bed and sleep again, but something just snaps inside you. Your cheeks feel hot, burning water pouring down your eyes, not even realising you're crying, you try to text him back, to tell him you're not his servant but lover, that you demand his respect and crave his love and attention but you're too exhausted to do that. So you stood there, phone in your hand, throat and eyes burning as you let your overthinking get the best of you. *Did he really think you're selfish?*

You didn't realise when you fell asleep in the living room, on the hard wooden floor, face exhausted and strained, cheeks stained by tears you let yourself cry to sleep and for what? Your lover's text? You felt pathetic, "Of course, he was right. I'm always too much to handle he's tired of me" being your exact thoughts before fatigue took over you and your eyes closed.

At around 2:30, your boyfriend entered the home looking absolutely drained. The bags under his eyes are huge. He's done with everything, just wants to be in his love's embrace while he forgets all about his job.

Entering inside, he is met with a tired looking s/o lying on the floor near the couch. His heart sinks as he moves forward to see her face hot and tear stained cheeks. He really never wanted to see you like this, that's why he worked his ass off so that you would never face any difficulties in life. His precious darling could enjoy her life without worrying about deadlines or getting consumed physically and mentally. Nanami never wished to see you like this. His hands shook as he held you close to his heart, mumbling an apology you're too asleep to hear. "It's all my fault, isn't it? I couldn't be the person you deserve. I always wished that you would never get caught in a life where you'll have to trade that glorious smile off for some money, but I did it myself. I don't even remember the last time I made you smile~ You regret choosing me, don't you?"

His eyes gave up, and the stoic jujutsu sorcerer and monotonous salary man nanami kento was bawling. His body shook half from the fatigue and tiredness and remaining from the fact that he became the person he was trying to save you from. His mind played every memory, every moment you two spent together, every time you made nanami smile. Coming home to such a loving partner was his victory in life. It was his achievement. He wanted to protect you, to save your innocent heart, but now he was in his living room crying, contemplating if he ever deserved someone like you?

The next morning, you wake up in your room, your head aching wildly, but you ignore it and search for the only person you wish to see. Did he tuck you in? When did he come home? Where was he? But you could only find a note stuck to the nightstand. "I've got to discuss something really important with my boss, I'll be home soon. Ps- there's some sandwiches and your smoothie in the kitchen. Love (your ken)"

You blushed as your fingers kept going on your Ken. For some reason, this morning felt weirdly positive. Your heart fluttered, thinking you'll finally get to spend some time with your boyfriend after weeks of him ignoring your presence.

After a few hours, your phone dings grabbing your attention, a message from kento pops up~

#jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk kento #jjk angst #jjk smau #nanami smau #jujutsu sorcerer #salaryman #jujutsu nanami #jjk drabbles

[akutasoda]

Noticed ur requested are open so I gonna the idea I had so got inspired by Genshin archon quest and I was in love furina charcter and sm wondering if u can like crossover type request if ok with u

So I was wondering if I may request a Dan heng / IL X fem Reader

Where reader is basically similar to furina maybe Reader

was tasked by hydro archon focalor maintaining the guise of an Archon; as a new "human", she had difficulty taking the role but eventually mastered it. Additionally, a curse was placed upon her, rendering her unable to die so long as Focalors lived, but also preventing her from pursuing her own happiness. Reader is Aware of the prophecy that would doom Fontaine so reader has to play the e role of Hydro Archon for 500 years . maybe the astral express landed like in new universe tevat Fontaine and trying to figure out the new world maybe Dan heng Mets Reader noticed her and like feels connect to her due to him having experience past burdens and he can tell something up with can see right through reader act. Wants to get to know her maybe reader and how to help her and

Maybe reader like has momment alone to herself crying carrying this burden not be able to show it until Dan heng shows up but reader is stubborn to show or to tell her burdens maybe she goes to trial for being fraud and the express and Dan Genf have to help reader if this makes sense

(This idea I had in mine but I hoping romantic fluff comfort fic but also lore wise I hope this makes sense again if this too difficult of request I can change it I just like hope this is ok

Aslo furina supremacy love her

a preferred outcome for a doomed prophecy

synopsis - maybe the prophecy wouldn't turn out all that bad

includes - dan heng ft express crew + neuvillette

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned howeve), reader is based on furina, fluff, angst with some comfort, maybe ooc?, wc - 1.5k

a/n: ahhh im so sorry this took so long!

the express had experienced all sorts of worlds within the galaxy, some not even taking form of planets but rather ships and such. each and every one housing a variety of colourful characters and deep history that spurred the current state it resided in. but they all had one thing in common, they all had a page in the expresses data bank.

the memories however, travelled with the trailblazer that experienced them. and after trailblazing for so long nothing seemed out of the ordinary when the express had an unexpected malfunction and needed to dock at the nearest planet - it wouldn't be the first time. however one would only need to take a step outside to realise that something indeed was different.

you were aimlessly wandering around the vast halls behind the court, looking for something to satiate your boredom. recently the lack of trials had bored you half to death and more annoyingly gave you less things to think about so, more often your mind would drift the the prophecy.

but you wanted to shake these horrid thoughts and push them to the back of your mind. and your wish was soon granted when you heard the voice of fontaine's ludex call your name from behind you. your initial reaction was to turn around with the biggest grin and address the man in front of you but he looked more somber, more serious than usual.

he kept his words short and brief and urged you to follow him to help with a situation that he claimed 'shouldn't get out of hand' or 'into public news'. and while you did follow immediately, your mind resurfaced the ideas of the prophecy and assumed the worst - maybe today was the day?

and as much as you tried to force yourself to not assume the worst, you couldn't stop the rapid pit of dread forming in your stomach.

you were your nations archon. and so it seemed only appropriate that you were the first person to greet the newcomers from beyond your world. all your boredom soon dissipated as you became rather eager and intrigued about your nations new visitors - but all questions would have to wait until you got the express members into your proper office.

and you had managed to get them there with minimum stares and whispering from your nations residents. you felt as though this issue was definitely better tackled within the confines of your private office. and based on what the lady named himeko had briefly told you, it seems you made the right call.

you had been introduced to all the members, seeing they would be staying here for quite a bit it'd only be polite - you may have additionally asked alot of questions as it wasn't everyday you met people that travelled through space. you also told them a tad about yourself and offered some background information about your lovely nation.

you welcomed them to look around and told them to not hesitate to ask for any help. in turn, himeko told you about the expresses data bank and gestured toward dan heng who you had been told compiles most of it. you expressed how you would be honoured you nation would be included.

over the next few days the express came to learn that they would not be leaving for a few weeks, but out of all the express members the one you had encountered the most was dan heng. he had gotten himself quite well acquainted with neuvillette and so you saw him often - mostly on his quest to fill out the data bank. and from your very first interaction it seemwd as though you both were doomed to get along.

over the first week, you and dan heng often conversed to the point ehere it seemed as though you had known him your entire life. neither of you could explain it but there was something there, something that made it easy for the two of you to converse - much to the expresses shock.

dan heng was quite surprised himself but he had grown accustomed to your presence in an alarmingingly short period of time, but there must've been a reason for this right?

he had a very strong, natural sense of perception - so much so that he could tell something was bothering you. no amount of happy go lucky attitude could fool him into thinking something didn't plague your mind constantly and because he had barely known you, he didn't say anything. it wasn't his place, he would tell himself.

but he could hardly ignore it when he walked in to your sobbing form. it had only been two weeks and the express was near ready to depart, so dan heng wanted to collect some final information. he had wanted to know more about the residents and who better to ask than you. he found neuvillette and asked where you were, he was told your office. when he arrived at your office he knocked, knocked again and knocked again. but each time was met with silence, normally he would've turned around and assumed he went the wrong way but he had heard sniffling on the other side of the door, so he opened it.

your head immediately whipped around upon hearing your office door creak open and you were left shocked at the sight of dan heng. you immediately swiped your eyes of any lingering tears and asked him in a meek voice that he should 'come back at a better time' and how he should 'seek out the ludex for anything at the moment'. dan heng wanted to protest, sure he wasn't the best at comforting people but it was clear that you needed some support. but he left.

and that wasn't the last time. only a few days later did he re-emerge in your office just to catch you crying as you stared aimlessly at the mirror that, for a brief moment, he swore had another reflection in eerily similar to you. now more than ever did he want to help. he had briefly heard you mumbling about some prophecy and he could immediately gather that this was some sort of burden you carried.

now, he knew a thing or two about carrying burdens, he knew how tormenting and stressful they could be - he did have frequent nightmares afterall. and even though he had know you for a mere few weeks, he wanted to help. afterall, wasn't it the trailblazers mission to help those across the galaxy?

unfortunately himeko and welt helped remind him of a painful reminder. once the express was up and running, they would leave and the likelihood of him ever seeing you would be close to none. and no matter how much he would talk about atleast trying to help now, if you didn't let anyone know what was your burden, no-one could help.

it was the last day in your nation, for the express and for you. the express were set to part and dan heng wanted to bid you farewell but only neuvillette showed to bid them farewell. neuvillette expressed how you had told him to relay your goodbye message. but even so, neuvillette also knew some of the prophecy and he encouraged them to go despite their joint insistence on thanking you - if they didn't leave soon, they too would be washed away in fontaine waters.

but the express crew knew something was up by now. and very reluctantly neuvillette told them of the prophecy after their insistence that they travelled worlds to help people and so if they could do anything they would. neuvillette expressed how nothing could be done. but dan heng wasn't so deterred.

however, it seemed as though the celestia herself had taken a form of pity. the prophecy didn't come true. and despite your trial going ahead and you being found guilty, you weren't to be executed. neuvillette still gained full control of hydro and sovereignty and forgave the sins of the residents of your nation but in turn he found a way to forgive yours aswell.

due to dan heng's insistence of helping you, it spurred the rest of the express to want to try just as much. and so neuvillette was offered with the idea of you joining the express. this way you could be free from the curse and still live out the rest of your days, and neuvillette allowed it. it was still your final decision however but you gladly accepted.

you still felt sorrow of having to leave some people behind, namely neuvillette, but he encouraged you to go - he would've of been in much pain to see you die. and your connection with dan heng seemed to pull through once more. as the instant you saw him you ran to give him the biggest hug anyone could offer in thanks for everything he did and he gladly reciprocated the action.

#x reader #x fem reader #x female reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail dan heng #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader